Highlander's Beloved 02 - A Highlander's Passion Read Free

of spray. “Please say tomorrow. I really do need a companion. Someone to talk to and laugh with.”
    “You’re hiring me?” Could she be so lucky?
    “I am.” Effie beamed a smile. “I have.” She continued cleaning and treating Kenzie’s skinned elbows and hands, tsking in a soothing manner as she ministered. “A hot bath will do wonders for these injuries, I think. I call my granddaughter Sweet Pea. May I call you Sparrow? I’m rather fond of nicknames.” She sprayed stinging stuff over the abraded skin. “Another one of my quirks, I suppose.”
    Isobel carried in a tray of tea and biscuits, setting it on the table. “Shall I pour, ma’am?”
    “No, I’ll serve my new assistant today. Tomorrow, if her hands are up to it, she can serve me. You may take the bowl of water, after you’ve wiped what you spilled. Thank you. That will be all, Isobel.” Once they were alone again, Effie poured tea. “Will your skinned knees wait while we talk over a cup of tea and some of Mary Kate’s fabulous biscuits?” She picked one up and turned it over as if inspecting it. “In the States, we call them cookies.”
    “I’d love some tea…and cookies.” Surely there’d be no harm in picking up some American terms if she were working fer someone from the United States. She accepted the cup Effie offered and relaxed fer the first time that day. Relaxed and allowed her newfound powers to surface so she could observe. While Effie’s colorful aura was clear, bright, and honest, a smoky vapor swirled low to the floor, behind her. Was this why she felt the need fer an ally? Was the auld woman in danger?
    Kenzie’s gaze drifted to Effie’s hair. How did it get pink? “Is yer hair color a family trait?”
    Effie laughed and patted her curls. “Why, yes. Yes, it is. Miss Clairol and I are close relatives, of a sort. I buy a box every month.”
    “Oh, ye mean hair dye? The product comes in colors like pinks?” Imagine the oddity of that?
    “My natural hair turned pure white about eight years ago, after some health issues, which didn’t go at all with my youthful nature, so I dyed it. I used to use a warm brown tone. ‘Medium Mocha,’ I think it was. But the night before our trip here I thought I’d choose a deep red like it was when I was a young girl. I never realized white hair didn’t take the full color of brighter dye, so instead of getting ‘Ravishing Ruby,’ I got this bright pink.” She brushed a curl from her forehead. “But I love it. Pink’s always been my favorite color. Just to be sure I never run out, I order it in by the caseload.”
    Purple was Kenzie’s favorite color, but there was no way she’d tell this woman that: Effie was liable to dye it while Kenzie was asleep. There were a lot of strange stories circulating around Mathe Bay about this American.
    “Tell me about Bryce, Sparrow.” Effie bit into a cookie and aimed blue eyes her way.
    She shrugged. “What’s to tell? He’s the youngest of the Matheson brothers, but then maybe ye ken that since yer granddaughter is married to the eldest.”
    “No. Tell me about your relationship with him and how you ended up with his muddy handprints on your boobs. I’m betting that story is a barn burner.” The corners of her lips quivered as if she wanted to laugh.
    Kenzie yanked on the hem of her blouse, pulling it away from her body to get a better view. Sure enough, there were huge handprints. “I will murder the feckin’ bastard. He knew I was on me way here for a job interview. How could he humiliate me like this?”
    Effie snorted. “He’s a man. Who knows how they think. Or even
if
they think. But don’t they have their fine points?”
    “Where he’s concerned, I can’t think of a one.” She sipped the chamomile, its soothing properties seeping into her system. Effie was right: She did need it strong today. “I dinna wanna talk about the man—about any man fer that matter.” There was just too much pain. Too many memories she