Page 131 of For One Night

“He is.” She nods.

I kiss her on the head as I pass. “I’m going to see him and then, maybe go for a ride.”

“It’s going to rain later.”

I chuckle. “It’s Scotland, of course it’s going to rain.”

Traipsing through the house, I wonder around looking at everything we had as a child. I really want to bring my children here one day. There’s so much for them to do.

I find my way to my father’s room. He’s in bed, watching television. “What’s on, ol’ man.”

“Come here, let me get a look at you, mac.”

My parents are the perfect blend between old and new. You never know when you’ll be called something in English or Gaelic. I crash onto the bed with him, his hand in my hair, just like when I was little.

I lay beside my father, saying nothing, just listening to him breathe. I miss them. I hate I’m always letting them down. Most of all, I hate who I am.

“Are you ever going to talk?” He pats my head.

I shrug. “I have nothing good to say.”

“Lennox, you don’t have to keep the bad because you have nothing good.” A heaviness fills my chest, his words, so profound.

“I feel like a child, complaining about how wrong life has done me, knowing I had a hand in it.” I wipe my jaw on my shirt.

“Everyone has something. If you don’t like it, do something about it.” He pats my head a little harder.

I peer up at him. “Are you hoping the harder you hit, the better chance for it to sink in?”

He laughs, a hearty and throaty chuckle. “You are one of a kind, lad.”

I stare at him, shocked at his words. “I am?”

“Yer certainly not yer brother, Lachlan.” He snickers. “He was sneaky, but we were never surprised with you; you didn’t hide.”

“You can say that again.”

“You’ve always been different, since birth. It was odd at first, to have you both look so eerily the same, but once your personalities came on, you were different. Good, the same, but different.”

“Thanks, Athair.” I scoot from the bed. “I’m going to go riding before the rain starts, get some fresh air.”

I take a walk along the property line, looking things over and deciding a good place to start on some projects. The stable looks exactly as it did when we came here as children.

I open the stall, stepping in to see my favorite horse we’ve ever owned. Our father keeps the best Clydesdales in the county. We’ve raised several breeds, but this is our favorite.

“Hey, Clyde.” I run my hand down his side, patting him. Walking him out, I saddle him and tell him to go. “Let’s get lost.”

I ride for hours, taking back trails and roadways. It sprinkles, drizzles, and pours rain the entire time, but I’ve never felt so free. My heart is still heavy, and every thought is about her; I can’t get her out of my head.

I’m on my way back, taking an old back road. Clyde isn’t in a hurry, and neither am I. As we come around a blind spot, I hear a scream, followed by an American accent.

“For the love of all that’s holy!”

I tap Clyde’s sides, and he trots with my command. The car is stuck on the side of the road in mud with someone behind it, like they’re pushing it or trying to at least.

“You’ve got to freaking be kidding me!”

I scratch my ear, pretending they’re annoying me. I smirk, deciding to give them a good Scottish man to help. “Yer car’s stuck, lass?”