Page 46 of Return to Wildsyde

“That ye did, and in fine style, aye. Ye have the makings of a fine horseman, Jack, I am proud of ye,” he said, slapping the boy on the back in a show of approval.

The lad stared in such astonishment that Lyall wondered what he’d said. Before he could figure it out, Jack flung his arms around Lyall’s waist and held on tight. Lyall blinked, startled, and wondered if the boy’s father had ever said he was proud of him—for doing anything decent, at any rate.

Lyall gave the boy a hug and then crouched down, looking into his face, and seeing with dismay that his eyes were wet. Jack swiped at them with his sleeve.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not a crybaby usually.”

Lyall shook his head. “Of course ye aren’t. I saw ye fall on yer arse last week. Ye came down with a mighty crash and ye dinnae murmur a word. Just got up and got back on. I was proud of ye for that too, aye?”

Jack swallowed, looking as though he was struggling to keep his composure.

“Out with it,” Lyall said firmly. “I cannae help if ye dinnae tell me.”

Jack took a deep breath and then spoke in a rush. “You won’t… You won’t send us away when Luella reaches four and twenty, will you? It’s just I’ve been so happy here. I’ve never had a pony of my own, and friends and school, and Mrs Baillie cooks such lovely food and… and you… you…”

The boy’s voice wobbled and broke and he closed his mouth with a snap.

“Ach, ye daft beggar. I’m nae sending ye anywhere, Jack. This is your home.”

Jack shook his head. “But it isn’t, is it? We ought not be here. Luella knows it and she might not tell me so, but I know it too. Papa tricked you into it somehow. That’s why you were so angry when we got here. I don’t bl-blame you for it either. I know we’re… cuckoos in the nest,” he said bitterly.

It had the ring of something repeated, words someone else had thrown at him.

“Where d’ye hear that?” Lyall said, a sudden and shocking burst of anger exploding in his chest. “Who said such a thing to ye?”

Jack’s lips firmed, stubbornly mute now.

“One of the lads at school, aye?” Lyall regarded him steadily.

Jack didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to.

“They are nae giving ye trouble?”

Jack shook his head. “I have friends, good friends. It’s only one of the lads and… and I can handle him,” he said stiffly.

“I never doubted it,” Lyall said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But ye listen to me now, Jack, and ye listen good. Ye are right enough, your pa did force ye on me and I was none too pleased about it. I cannae deny it. After everything with Lilith… well, I dinnae need to explain, I reckon.”

Jack shook his head, his face the picture of misery. Lyall took the lad's arms in his hands and gave him a gentle shake.

“Look at me. Your pa forced ye on me, but I reckon it was the one decent thing he ever did for ye, aye? And I’m glad to have ye, Jack. I was suspicious of ye both, ye cannae blame me for that. But ye are decent and I like ye fine. I’m happy ye are here, and that ye make yer home here. It will always be here if ye want it. Ye ken?”

“For Luella too?” he pressed, and Lyall could not deny the fear he read in the boy’s expression.

“Aye,” he said, though with a little less enthusiasm.

The boy blinked, hope a living thing in his eyes now. “Truly?”

“Have ye ever heard me tell a lie?” Lyall demanded fiercely.

Jack shook his head, his expression solemn. “Never.”

“Well, then.”

Jack hugged him again and Lyall returned the embrace, touched more profoundly than he might have expected. Perhaps something good had come out of his recent misery after all.

His thoughts drifted to Luella, as they did far too often, to the way she had looked up at him after he’d kissed her, all soft and dazed, her sweet lips red, those stormy eyes heavy with wanting him. Lyall slammed the door on the image, refusing to consider it, though it was getting harder to do. She had been sensible at least and stayed out of his way. Now and then, their paths inevitably crossed, and they did their best to pass a few meaningless pleasantries before going their separate ways… but he always knew where she was. It was as if he could sense her, his body vibrating like a tuning fork if he heard the whisper of her voice or caught the delicate scent of her lingering perfume.

She was driving him distracted. Well, he’d not been with a woman since the debacle with Lilith, and he’d not been able to bear touching her after they’d married. So yes, it was hardly surprising he was crawling out of his skin with stifled desire. Affairs in this part of the world were not so easy to arrange if you didn’t want the whole neighbourhood talking about the woman in question. His only option was to ride into Wick and there wasn’t time to do that too often when the round trip took three hours on a good day.