Ruth Morren - Hearts In The Highlands

He spotted Miss Norton first, barely visible under an apple tree’s bower of blossoms. Her hands were upraised and she appeared to be calling out to the children. He didn’t see any of them at first, then one by one he saw them all up in the tree. His lips twitched in a smile until he discerned that Miss Norton was trying to get them to come down and not having an easy time of it.

Remembering the unmannerly behavior of the children the short time they’d been in the parlor, he set his teacup down on the tea tray and headed toward the door.

Vera broke off in midsentence. “Where are you going, Reid? We haven’t decided on the guest list for the musicale.”

He was already halfway across the room. “You and Aunt Millicent take care of it. Just let me know the date and time, and I’ll show up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll only be a moment.”

Before Vera could ask him anything more, he shut the door behind him.

When he reached the garden, he heard the children’s shouts and laughter.

“You can’t get us unless you climb up.”

“You must get down immediately, Harry, and you, too, Timmy. Your sister might hurt herself. Where are you, Lisbeth?”

The six-year-old girl only giggled in glee.

“You know your aunt won’t like it that you’re in her apple tree. It’s her best orange pippin.”

“We won’t come down till you come up!”

“You aren’t playing by the rules. Now come down, Timmy.”

In reply, the boy shook the tree branch at her and a shower of blossoms littered the ground. “It looks like it’s snowing!”

“Oh, you mustn’t do that. Your aunt won’t have any fruit in the autumn if you knock the blossoms off now.”

Reid reached the tree and spied Lisbeth first on a lower branch. “Whoever thinks he can beat me in a race around the square gets a half crown.” He turned away from the tree, calling out over his shoulder, “Last one down’s a rotten egg.”

As he walked toward the garden gate, he heard scrambling and shouts as three small bodies shimmied down the tree.

“Lisbeth’s a rotten egg!” The boys called over their shoulders as they caught up to Reid. Lisbeth began to cry.

Miss Norton removed her blindfold and smoothed her hair before going to crouch by the weeping child.

“There, Lisbeth, why don’t you come along with me, and we’ll show those boys you can beat them in the race?”

Reid’s niece sniffed.

“Where’s your handkerchief, honey?”

Leaving the child with Miss Norton, Reid herded the boys into the mews. They ran down the alley until they reached Belgrave Square. Reid took them to the nearest tree and marked out the starting place. “You’ll run inside the square, all around and end back here.”

Harry’s chest puffed out. “That’s easy.”

“We’ll see. Now, let’s wait for your sister and then when I say ‘go,’ run with all your speed. Watch that you don’t cheat by cutting the corners or you’ll be disqualified.”

As Miss Norton crossed the street and approached them, holding his niece by the hand, he smiled. “I thought you could use some reinforcements.”

“Indeed, thank you.” She shaded her eyes and looked across the large, tree-studded square. “Are you sure it’s not too far for the children?”

“They needn’t complete the course. I’m only hoping to rid them of some of their excess energy.”

“Yes, I see.” Her eyes twinkled, and he noticed again how exactly her eye and hair color matched, a rich, caramel color like the toffees he used to enjoy as a boy.

He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the boys. “All right, on your mark.” They lined up at the spot he indicated. “Go!”

He jogged alongside them, making sure not to overtake them. Lisbeth soon trailed behind and began to cry. By the second corner of the square, he glimpsed Miss Norton, who’d once again taken the girl by the hand and walked along beside her, encouraging her. Harry ran ahead of Timmy by a good lead, but as the older brother rounded the third corner, his foot tripped on a tree root, and he went flying headlong.

Reid ran up to him, the boy’s sobs reaching across the large square. The fall hadn’t looked serious enough to merit the boy’s wails. Reid knelt by him.

His nephew clutched one knee in both hands. “I…th-think it’s br-broken…!”

The trouser leg was torn and the knee scraped. Reid probed the area around it gently, but determined that no further damage had been done. Timmy leaned over his brother, panting heavily. “Does this mean I won the race, Uncle Reid?”

This only made Harry sob the louder. “You didn’t win! That’s not fair! Tell him he didn’t win, Uncle Reid! I was ahead. You saw me!”

Reid smiled at Timmy. “I think it means there’ll be a rematch once your brother’s fully recovered. What do you think, Harry? Does that sound fair?”

He swiped a sleeve across his runny nose. “I would’ve won fair and square if that tree root hadn’t been in my way.” He glared at his younger brother. “I would’ve beat you today, just like I’ll beat you by a furlong anytime we race!”

“I wasn’t the one who fell on my face and then cried like a girl!” Timmy began hopping on one foot and then the other. “Waaa!” he bawled in imitation.

Miss Norton and Lisbeth reached them. Miss Norton knelt on Harry’s other side. “Is he badly hurt?”

“Nothing more than you see. Come on, champ, let’s see if you can stand.” He held out a hand to his nephew. “’Attaboy.”

Harry wiped his nose again. “It hurts something awful, Uncle Reid.”

“Skinned knees always hurt. The trick is not to let on to the ladies.” He winked in their direction. “Come on, let’s show the others what a brave fellow you are.” Draping an arm around the boy’s shoulders, Reid urged his nephew forward. He turned to Miss Norton. “I’ll take him to the kitchen and get him cleaned up if you take charge of the other two.”

“Of course, thank you. Come along, Timmy, Lisbeth.” She took them each by the hand and directed them back to the house.

Timmy resisted. “I don’t want to go back yet.”

She pulled him gently forward. “Your mother might be getting ready to leave.”

Lisbeth tugged on her other hand. “I want to stay outside, too.” Timmy took advantage of Miss Norton’s inattention to break away from her and dart toward the middle of the square.

“Timmy!” The single word stopped the boy in his tracks. Timmy stared round eyed at Reid’s sharp tone. “Take hold of Miss Norton’s hand if you don’t want to feel the palm of mine on your backside.”

Timmy debated for only an instant. He dragged his toes in the dusty path but he didn’t disobey. As soon as he was at Miss Norton’s side, he gave her his hand and put the thumb of the other in his mouth, staring at his uncle as if he’d suddenly sprouted horns.

As they walked toward the house, Reid said to Miss Norton, “Don’t let them forget who’s in charge.”

She gave him a quick look. But she said nothing, only pressed her lips together and looked down at the ground. “Yes, sir.”

Wondering if he’d said something wrong, he walked alongside her and the children in silence to his aunt’s house. He’d been only trying to help. Had he offended Miss Norton in some way?

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