Free Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WayWard Wind by Unknown

“Girl has a right to know why you ....”
    “Just shut up,” Harper snapped. “You talk too much.”
    Peyton brought the second omelet over and divided it between them.
    “When are you going to eat?” Harper asked her.
    “I’m making mine now,” she said. “I like my eggs scrambled.”
    He chewed thoughtfully for a moment then took up his cup to take a sip of the coffee. When he set the cup down, he told her they’d be leaving for the closest village right after breakfast.
    Peyton had been about to sit down and her gaze fell on her dirty dress. He saw her lips purse.
    “You don’t have to worry about that, wench. I’ll get you something decent to wear before we go see the priest,” he said.
    Reminded of her upcoming nuptial, Peyton felt her heart speed up. The eggs no longer looked palatable. She wasn’t sure she could force them down. She took up her fork and scooped up some egg then just pushed it around on her plate.
    “You get her some clothes for wearing around here, too, boy,” Snake said. “You got money or you need some?”
    Peyton couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at her lips. Though she’d never known her own grandparents, she had often been around her childhood friends’. It seemed offering money to a grandchild was something all grandmothers did.
    “I’ve got enough,” he replied.
    “You sure?”
    “Aye, I’m sure!” he barked.
    Snake made a rude sound with her lips. “If’n he was back in Scotland, he’d have all the ....”
    “Didn’t I tell you you talk too much?” Harper growled, slanting the old woman a warning look.
    “Screw you, boy,” Snake groused. “If the girl is to be your wife and bear you a child, least you can do is share some of who you are with her!”
    “She’s not interested in who I am,” Harper grated.
    “Yes, I am,” Peyton said, but when he turned that fierce glare on her, she shrank back in her chair.
    “Leave--it--be--wench,” he said slowly and distinctly.
    Peyton shoved a forkful of egg into her mouth and chewed quickly.
    When the meal was finished, Snake shooed them off, informing them she’d clean up. Harper went outside to saddle his horse, replying to his grandmother that they wouldn’t need her horse she’d offered for Peyton wasn’t much of a rider.
    “Better teach her, then,” Snake grumbled.
    The ride into the bustling village took less than an hour and by the time Harper found a store with clothing he considered fit for his bride-to-be, the sun was high overhead and the inhabitants scurrying for their afternoon siesta. There would be a few hours wait for the priest to perform the ceremony so Harper and Peyton sat under the shade of a cantina roof and looked out across the pretty town square with its bubbling fountain.
    “So how rich are you?” she asked after awhile, giving him a saucy grin that said she expected at answer.
    Harper growled low in his throat. “That old woman’s mouth is going to get her in deep shit one of these days.”
    “I take it the money is in Scotland?”
    He nodded. “Along with the land my grandfather left me.” He glanced down at his right hand and wiggled his thumb. “I can’t touch any of it unless I go back there.”
    Peyton took a sip of the cool lemonade the cantina owner had poured for them before heading for his nap. “Have you ever thought about doing that?” she asked over the rim of the glass.
    She didn’t think he’d answer as he gently massaged his thumb. “I thought about it this morning while I was bathing,” he answered in a soft voice.
    “Is your thumb hurting very badly today?” she asked.
    He looked up at her. “Did she tell you about that, too?” he asked, his brogue thick. He stopped rubbing his thumb.
    Peyton smiled gently at him. “There’s no shame in me knowing, is there?”
    A mutinous look shifted over his face for a moment then moved on. “I suppose not,” he said in a grudging voice.
    They were quiet for awhile then he turned to give her a steady