Elaine Coffman - [Mackinnons 06] Read Online Free Page B

on a day you were here, drawing water.”
    Her violet eyes questioned him, as if she did not understand
what he was saying. God, are there really people this innocent? She
looked down at her feet again, and he could not help noticing that her cheeks
had colored. So she was a shy lass, and not very talkative—something that would
have sent him on his way, had she not been so fair.
    But she was fair.
    And he was intrigued with her, this shy lass with skin as
pure and undefiled as he knew she was.
    “What is your name?”
    “Cathleen,” she said softly. “Mary Cathleen Lindsay.”
    He forced the conversation a bit longer, making an even
bigger fool of himself than he had done before, until she picked up her jug of
water. Out of sheer boredom, more than likely.
    “I must go now,” she said. “The workers grow thirsty.”
    Not moving, he sat there for a moment, just looking at her,
something about the scene familiar to him. “The woman at the well,” he said,
wondering why he thought of that biblical reference, since his thoughts were
far from pure just now.
    “Aye, ‘ Everyone who drinks of this water shall thirst
again ’,” she said. “John.” She turned away then and walked off, balancing
the jug on her shoulder.
    He watched her go, then started to turn and ride away when
he noticed a white cloth lying next to the bucket. He urged his horse closer
and, leaning down, picked it up.
    It was a woman’s kerchief, the kind the women in the field
wore in their hair. He rubbed it with his thumb. The fabric was coarse and not
expensive, but it was delicately made and edged with intricate embroidery.
    Somehow he knew it belonged to her, that those hands that
drew the water had crafted it, that it was she who had toiled for hours over
this coarse piece of cloth to lovingly embroider it and turn it into a work of
art.
    He looked toward her, wondering if she was as inexplicably
drawn to him as he was to her.
    If she turns around. If she looks back at me. She is!
    She turned her head, nothing more than a quick glance, but
it was enough.
    Ahhhh, sweetheart, do you know what you’ve done!
    He smiled at her and lifted the kerchief like a salute, then
brought it to his nose. He inhaled her fragrance, which smelled of summer rain
and fresh-cut hay, a scent as fresh and natural as he found her to be. With a
light kiss, he tucked it into his pocket.
    She turned around suddenly and ran across the field, not
stopping until she disappeared behind a group of thirsty workers.
    Without another look, he turned his horse and rode back the
way he had come. He wished he had asked more about where she lived. He reminded
himself that in any case, such a beauty would not be hard to find again. And
then he thought that perhaps it was a good thing he had met her, for now he had
two reasons to come back. One for business and one for pleasure. He couldn’t
have asked for more.
     
    As she walked home, Cathleen Lindsay tried to think about
what she would serve for dinner, but all she could think about was her
encounter with the man at the well.
    The American with the strange ways and the odd speech.
    Images of his deep blue eyes and smiling mouth, his teasing
words, kept haunting her, and she was reminded of the nights she would lie in
bed, hugging herself and weeping, overcome with loneliness, wanting so
desperately to be loved, knowing she never would be.
    She chastised herself for allowing herself even to think
about a loving relationship. Such notions were not for her, nor would they ever
be. A long time ago she had made her peace with her lot in life. She was
satisfied with her existence; she had cultivated sadness as a product of her
suffering, and she had become used to its occurrence and predictability. She
was the product of her past, resolute and obstinate. She wanted this man out of
her thoughts, and she willed it to be so.
    In an effort to distract herself, she reached up to take her
kerchief from her head in order to wipe the