What Lies Between by Charlena Miller Page B

moment my feet touched MacKinnon land, the ache . . . it softened. Makes me think I was meant to be here. Strange, huh?”
    “Not at all. There is a word in Welsh for what you describe: hiraeth , a feeling of loss and intense yearning for home, whether about a place or someone. The thing about hiraeth—it remains even in happy moments. You can have it for what you can’t even describe but you know is missing.” He turned his gaze to the rain-laden clouds hovering over the mountains. “I believe the Highlands run in the blood and even if you move away, or were born somewhere else, this land holds onto its own. A heart whose home is meant to be here will always be restless anywhere else . . . hiraeth.”
    What he said hit me in the dead center of the ache in my chest. I turned again to look at him and his expression was soft, encouraging me to relax. “You have a way of describing how I feel . . . like you hear more than the words I say. You nearly make me believe there’s something at work in this world besides a mess of human actions. I can’t argue things feel different here— I feel different here—but still . . .” My words faded away and silence fell between us once again.
    “Ellie.” He willed my downcast eyes to look up. “I believe your feelings are right, no matter how odd you think they are. I don’t know exactly how, and I don’t think it will be easy, but things can work out for you here.”
    I hoped he was right. In any case, I was beginning to like being around this guy. I tossed a grape at his head to lighten the mood and interrupt the pull drawing me toward him.
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I have a ton of work to do to get this place ready to go for its first season.”
    “About that . . . you shouldn’t . . . I can’t . . .”
    He didn’t complete his thought, and I threw another grape, hitting him square on the bridge of his nose. “Can’t what? Say it,” I demanded, grabbing a handful of grapes for ammunition. “You can’t finish your work? Because you’re running off to join the circus?” Grinning, I tossed two more at his head. “Do you even have the circus in this country?”
    Ben picked up a grape, threw it back, and hit me in the cheek. His smile quickly faded but he said nothing.
    “What?” I asked again, not sure what to make of his serious expression.
    He stuck the grapes back in his pack, folded up the bag of crisps, shook his head. “Och, no never mind.”
    “Spill it.” I pulled on his sleeve.
    He turned those pale eyes on me, his brows bunched up tight, face strained. He shrugged his pack onto his shoulders. “Ready for your driving lesson?”
    This time, it was me searching his face, trying to sort out this man who made me feel restless, who stirred me awake from a slumber I hadn’t believed I could be woken from. His nervous silence left me uneasy. “I’m not ready yet. Tell me what you were you going to say.”
    He cleared his throat but didn’t look up to meet my eyes. “I wish life hadn’t been the way it was for you. That’s all. And I’m certain it won’t be easy for you here, either.”
    Tearing off a wildflower growing amidst the weeds, I began picking its petals off one at a time. “I don’t think my childhood was meant to be hard. I’m sure my parents never imagined they would both die at the same time and hadn’t planned for what would happen to me. But that’s not all you were thinking about. You’re making me nervous.”
    “Living here can be harsh. I’m just nae sure you ken what you’re in for,” he said, pushing himself up and turning toward the path.
    I tossed the flower to the ground and jumped to my feet, grabbing his arm and positioning my body across the path, anger flaring. “Are you saying I don’t belong here or that I can’t handle it?”
    He studied my eyes for a long time. “I’m saying that taking on Glenbroch and everything that comes with it is a heavy burden. Have you