MacDuff opened the small crock and poured several tablespoons of dried beige powder into Bryce’s palm. “Dump that into the milk and stir.”
Bryce sniffed the powder then did as he was told, muttering, “Is this some kind of plant?”
“Nay.” Hamish looked at him and winked. “’Tis the dried lining of a calf’s stomach.”
Sarah tried not to laugh as her students shouted, “Ewwwwwwww!”
As Jeremy nudged Mark and whispered, “The Lion’s joking, right?” Bryce looked at her in horror. “Miss Colbert?”
Sarah nodded, liking the boy’s moniker for MacDuff. He did look like a lion. “It’s true. And there’s no need toewwww.You’ve all eaten rennet custard at home and liked the cheese Mr MacDuff gave you yesterday. Rennet provides the acid needed to turn milk into cheese.”
Ty, looking worried, asked Hamish, “Did you kill the calf?”
“Nay, the poor wee beast died during a late spring blizzard. Nearly broke my heart finding him that morn, but there was nay undoing it, so …” He shrugged.
When several continued toewwand shuddered, Sarah reminded them, “We eat veal and lamb at home, gentlemen. The parts not suitable for the table aren’t wasted but used to make custards, gourmet cheeses, leather products like lambskin blazers – which several of you own – pet food and fertilizer. It’s simply a case of waste not, want not.”
Beside her, Jeremy muttered, “That’s it. The minute we get home I’m going vegan.”
“Miss Colbert, he’s cheating again!”
Sarah, shielding her eyes against the brilliant sunlight, laughed. Hamish had Jeremy under one arm like a sack of grain as he bobbed and weaved his way down the make-shift soccer field he’d made in the hopes of easing the boys’ melancholy after two days of solid rain. Their soccer ball, made from straw and leather, had flattened and was tucked neatly under his other arm, the game having degenerated into a free-for-all football.
As he scooped up Mark, she hollered, “Get him, Ty! Grab his belt and pull him down!”
When Ty lunged and missed, Sarah raced towards Peter, their goalie, who stood before two sticks set in the waterlogged ground. Emulating Peter’s stance, she spread her arms and legs wide and shouted, “We got you now, Highlander!”
Hamish slowed and an evil glint took shape in his eyes. He put the boys down, then, laughing, charged straight at her. As he caught her by the waist and spun, Ty and Mark caught his belt and Hamish toppled, making a great show of being brought down, as much a boy at heart as her students.
“Ooomph!”While her victorious students shouted, Sarah tried to catch her breath. MacDuff held much of his weight on his arms, but had a muscular leg nestled squarely between her thighs.
Oh my God! Is he aroused?
Grinning down at her, his blue eyes dancing with mirth, he asked, “Did I score, mistress?”
Oh yes.
She’d long imagined what a man’s heat and weight might feel like, but my, oh my, her imagination hadn’t taken flight nearly far enough. Her heart was racing, sending warmth and need sluicing through her.
“Miss Colbert, is it dinner time yet?” Peter wanted to know.
I neither know nor care, Peter.
“What are we having?” Jeremy asked.
Hamish, his hooded gaze fixed on her lips, slowly rose to his knees and cleared his throat. “Crowdie and havers,” he told them, “unless ye can garner more blackberries.”
Almost in unison they groaned.
When the boys walked off, Hamish slowly rocked to his feet and held out a large calloused hand to her. “We’d best get the rest ready. Ty alone can eat his weight in oats and honey.”
Dazed, she took his hand. “He’s … He’s grown very fond of you.”
“And I of him.”
“In ten months this is the first time I’ve seen him really smile. He’s blossomed under your attention.” And he wasn’t the only one. She too had blossomed. She laughed and pondered what might have been under Hamish MacDuff’s sometimes awkward, usually funny, and occasionally heated perusal.
Watching the boys, Hamish absently toyed with the broad brass cuffs decorating his wrists. “He longs for a father.”
