“True.” Kieran’s laugh sounded forced. “Sorry, I’ll try to remain calm. We can only trust God and wait.”
“I’ll gather the men before they leave.” Angus glanced toward the late afternoon sun, which slanted through the windows and headed for the door. “Maybe we’ll catch him. Caithness could be a lie to throw us off the track.”
Hamish rose to shake the hand of his old friend. “Aye, you’re right. The more watchful eyes, the better.”
“Kieran, I don’t think you should go out alone for a while. A crazy man stalking you to make good his failed attack scares me.” Bonny’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Please be careful.”
“I agree,” Maggie spoke up. “You can’t risk it.”
“We won’t live in fear.” Kieran pounded his fist on his knee. “He won’t control us.”
“It’s not cowardice to take common-sense precautions.” Maggie crossed the room and began to gather cups and plates. “Be considerate of your wife, mo mhac. The entire situation is far from ordinary.”
Hamish rose, put his arm around Maggie, and motioned Bonny to his side. They crossed the room to where the map of Stonehaven Farm and Glen Garry hung above an ancient writing desk. “Your great, great granda gave all he had for this land. We won’t lose it by your blood, Kieran. Keep one of the farmhands with you at all times. And watch your back.”
Chapter Four
The girl looked about fifteen, huddled in the corner of the couch with head tucked. Dark blonde hair partially covered her freckled face and heavy eye makeup. He cringed inwardly at the noticeable bulge under her blue shirt.
Really, Lord, now? And on my first day?
“Emily? I’m Pastor Kieran MacDonell. You can come back now.”
Shyness, hopelessness perhaps, appeared to drag the girl down when she stood. With a pretty but blemish-marked face and guarded eyes far too old for her years, she shuffled across the small lobby and offered a limp handshake. Once seated in the office, she stared at child-size hands clenched tight in her lap.
Kieran took the chair across from her, unwilling to place a desk between them. “What can I help you with, Emily?”
“I … I’m pregnant. My mum’s raising my sister’s three kids. Can you find a family for my baby?” Mascara streaked down her cheeks and dropped onto her jeans.
“We’ll do our best. How old are you, and when is your baby due?” Why did young girls, still in school, have babies when he and Bonny couldn’t?
She accepted a tissue and scrubbed her face. “I’m seventeen. The baby’s due in three months. Mum raised me right. My boyfriend and I used precautions. We didn’t mean it to happen, but I won’t have an abortion.”
“You came to the right place but it’s an area where I have little experience. Can you give me a few days to look into the possibilities?” Bonny would want this baby.
She stared at her hands. “How long?”
If only he could offer a family now and send her off with the knowledge her child had a home. Helplessness and long-held objections weighed him down like the 175-pound cabers he used to toss in the Highland Games. “I’ll have options for you on Friday afternoon. Can you come back then?”
“Yeah, sure.” She stood. “If you don’t, my boyfriend will make me have an abortion. I can’t …” The streams of mascara began again.
Kieran stood and opened the door. “Next Friday then. Same time.”
Her feet dragged across the waiting room.
“There are answers. I won’t let you down.”
She stepped into the hall. Kieran closed the door and sank into his chair, head in his hands. Lord, why send her to me now? Others are much better equipped.
But who? The interim pastor at Faith Chapel was from Edinburgh and unfamiliar with resources in the Highlands. Graeme wasn’t familiar with options either. The research was up to him, and Bonny would sense his weighty concern when he walked through the door. Whether he wanted to or not, mentioning Emily would force an adoption discussion.
Rival emotions battled all the way home, but he needed Bonny’s help. She was researching adoption agencies. The brochures covered her desk.
I’m not ready.
Young, pretty, her whole life in front of her, Emily tugged at his heart.
Too young to be a parent.
Too heartrending to keep to himself.
He swiped at his face, unable to erase the anger, frustration, helplessness, and longing.
Bonny would read the expression in his eyes.
The answer would hurt her.
***
Dreich and drookit. Days of dark, damp clouds when rain dripped from the gutters and slid down the windows seeped into her soul. Would she ever get used to weeks of wet and fog? Too much time alone allowed Bonny to dwell on the small stone Kieran placed in the Fort William kirkyard with Baby MacDonell engraved above a lamb.
Hearing the Land Rover splash through puddles in the drive, her spirits lifted like New Mexico clouds. At the creak of the garage door springs, she ran for the comfort of his arms—anxious thoughts distracted with him home. When he dragged his briefcase from the car, it appeared to weigh two tons. Steps lagging, he forced a smile and crushed her against him with a hug that muffled his hello in a sob.
“What’s wrong?” She drew back, staring into eyes grayer than the clouds.
He followed her into the kitchen in silence. “You’re a much better counselor than I am.” He sank into a chair and reached for the teapot. “Hot?”
“Yes. What happened?” He waved away the biscuits she offered. Pouring her own cup, she sat down, hand on his shoulder.
“A young girl came in today. She needs help fast.” The story poured forth like water over a broken dam. “You’re researching adoption agencies. I need your help. Where can I send her?”
Bonny’s breath caught. Don’t cry. It’s ministry work. God will open his eyes when the time is right. She climbed the stairs to the office for the information. Thank you for bringing Emily to the office on Kieran’s day, Lord.
When she reentered the kitchen, he sipped his tea and stared out at the rain. She laid the information in front of him. “There’s one called Forever Family. It’s London-based, but there are churches in Aberdeen, Perth, and Glasgow who collaborate with them. It’s a growing movement to find foster and adoptive homes for children in the UK. It might be what Emily needs. Maybe Faith Chapel and Hope Chapel could become involved.”
“Glasgow’s not bad. What’s closest?”
“There’s not much in the Highlands, though Inverness and Aberdeen have agencies offering foster care and adoption. Inverness is closest for appointments.”
“First thing in the morning, I’ll call.” He continued to stare out the window.
“Emily wanted help from a church. We could—”
“No.”
She scooted her chair out, picked up the dishes, and headed for the sink. His hands came to rest on her shoulders, insistent, begging. She turned, unwilling to meet his eyes.
“Come sit with me in the library. I can’t discuss us now. Can you understand?”
Bonny accepted the handkerchief he offered but refused to look up. “No, I don’t. Emily could have gone to another church any day of the week, but a pregnant girl came to our church today when you were there. If God wants us to adopt a baby, he’ll show us. Will you at least pray about it?”