The Heartbreak of the Glen -- PREVIEW

Meeting Gavin

"Ellen!" Gavin MacLeod hollered, his voice hoarse from calling out to her for most of the day.

She had promised to meet him under the mature blooming rowan at the edge of the heather moorland, itself an explosion of brilliant colors. Ellen had claimed it for her own fairy land, and their meeting at the rowan tree would not be their first. Or the second. Or, Gavin hoped, their last.

The heathered land was a grand sea of purples, whites, and greens, pock-marked by rocks as the moorland thinned near the bottom of the rise. With the sun high in the sky, 'twas bright even for a late Highland day. His boots didn't sink into the ground much, not that they would have anyway, what with the pace he was running.

"Ellen!" His voice carried over the moors and to the hills.

When she didn't arrive to meet him at their chosen time for their secret tryst, he didn't worry. Either one of them were oft delayed when trying to sneak away. The rowan and heather served as a cover for their interludes, lifting skirts and kilts to join quickly and passionately, then returning to the market separately, and no one was the wiser.

At least, that's what they thought.

Gavin had waited for nearly an hour, by his estimation, until the sun moved significantly across the sky. Then he retreated to the market, looking for his red-haired lass.

Ellen was a friend from childhood, and once they were of age, Gavin assumed he would be the one to wed her. Their first night together was under that same rowan tree, wrapped in his plaids to ward off the chill of the fall air. Winter put a damper on their secret meetings, necessitating finding hidden spaces in the MacLeod keep, or sneaking off to Gavin's small croft. But once the snow melted, they resumed their rendezvous in the moorland, far out of sight of any prying eyes.

Where was she?

After surreptitiously searching the keep, then returning to the market under the guise of an errand for his father, he'd still not seen hide or hair of Ellen. Was she yet at home, in the sturdy cottage near the edge of the market, helping her father?

He risked a visit, keeping his distance so as not to be seen. Ellen's father didn't care for Gavin, most likely due to his long friendship with the rakish son of Laird MacLeod. Was it Gavin's fault they'd been friends since birth and Gavin was practically raised at the keep?

The cottage looked empty. Huffing his ire out in a heavy breath, he turned and resumed running, heading back to the rowan tree. Perchance she was considerably delayed and was now waiting on him.