Past Imperfect

Written by Cait MacChat
 


 

Part Six

    “Thank you for helping straighten up, Duncan,” Renee said with a smile as she finished wiping down the counter by the coffeepot. “I appreciate the offer of walking me home, too. Although I know I am perfectly safe, the woods, especially at night, still make me a little nervous. Kit had lighting installed on the walkway between here and my place, but sometimes my imagination gets the better of me and I end up running home. Silly isn't it? Here, let me show you how the security system works. Please try to remember to set it when you come back. Kit and Adam sometimes host important people who insist on good security.”
    She showed him which buttons to push to activate the alarm. “I have a similar system, complete with a 'panic button' but I’ve never had to use it. Kit thought it would be a good idea in case some hikers or backpacker’s decided to investigate the grounds. The carriage house backs up to the woods, you know. Adam’s going to have a 12 foot fence installed as soon as the rainy season ends.”
    Opening the door Duncan observed, “At least it’s stopped raining for now. Smell this air - it’s incredible.”
    “Yes, isn’t it? It smells so clean and cool. The air is something else that’s taken me a while to get used to. I almost froze to death the first few winters I spent here. It’s so completely different from the islands,” Renee said as Duncan helped her with her coat. “The other seasons are wonderful though. Fall is spectacular as you can imagine. Spring and summer beautiful as well. Next year the gardens will be completed - perhaps you will come to see them?” she continued with a happy smile. “I do enjoy living here.”
    They chatted about inconsequential things as they strolled down the walkway that separated Renee’s carriage house from the main house.
    “Amazing,” Duncan said as they walked along the path. “Did Kit design this walkway for you? It’s almost like a nature trail. You’re close to the house but far enough away to have your privacy.”
    “Yes, Kit did this for me once I agreed to stay on with her. She knew I needed my own home, insisted that I have it, even though I would have cheerfully taken a suite at the house. I’m glad I didn’t argue - I love the carriage house - it’s perfect for me.”
    “So everything’s working out well for you here?"
    “Yes, it really is. At first I was concerned about what exactly my role would be. It can be awkward when friends work with, or for, one another but Kit and I haven’t had any problems. I cook and manage the kitchen. And, in a pinch - when Kit and Adam are both gone for one reason or another - I manage the guests. I have free run of the house but seldom have a reason to be in their private wing. Aside from an occasional ski trip to Colorado or Idaho, I do not travel any longer. Kit and Adam are my family. I have friends here whom I love. Riverhaven has become my home.”
    “Do you realize, in all the visits I’ve made here, I’ve never been to your place?" Duncan asked.
    “Then it’s time I gave you the tour. Unless, of course, you’re tired - there is always tomorrow,” she said in a non-committal voice.

“We’re here,” she continued as they rounded the last bend of the trail.
    “No, I’m not tired and I’d like to continue our conversation. I promise not to keep you up late,” Duncan said.
    Unlocking the door, Renee reached for the switch and turned on the lights. “Welcome to my home. Let me take your jacket.”
    Duncan’s eyes widened as he surveyed her living room. Renee had created a tropical paradise inside the turn-of-the-century carriage house.  Sturdily constructed rattan furniture was upholstered in a deep green and white striped cotton. Oversized throw pillows were scattered throughout as if inviting you to take off your shoes and make yourself comfortable. An antique wrought iron etagere held Renee’s collection of seashells. Carpeting the color of fine sand covered the floor. All around the room were pots, of all sizes, containing dozens of varieties of orchids - some in full bloom - along with numerous palm, rubber trees and other tropical plants Duncan didn’t recognize. A large watercolor depicting a sleepy Caribbean village hung over the fireplace. Renee had created her own personal paradise in the rugged Pacific Northwest.
    “This is incredible Renee,” Duncan said admiringly, “it’s almost a culture shock!”
    “Merci, I am pleased you like it,” she said, “I brought as much of my home on Terre-de-Haute with me as I could. As for the rest, Holly and Roy, our friends who managed the grounds, acquired for me - especially the orchids. If you’re ever in need of anything that grows, legally that is, they are the people to contact - nothing is too exotic for them. My friend, Marcello, had all my things packed and put in storage for me, in Florida after I left. If it weren't for him I would have lost everything. There was a hurricane the first summer I was here and my home was totally destroyed. Marcello was killed in that storm,” Renee trailed off sadly.
    Turning to Renee, he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face, “I’m sorry you lost your friend, but I’m glad you were able to save this much. It’s a hard thing to lose your home, those you love but you, eventually, heal and begin again.”
    “It is interesting you should say that. Amanda said very much the same thing to me earlier this evening,” Kit said, “but she did not mention the healing or beginning again.”
    Putting his hands on either side of her face, Duncan leaned down and kissed her softly. “Perhaps it might be a good idea for you to show me the rest of your paradise,” he murmured.
    “The kitchen is this way,” Renee said as she made a vague motion to her left. “Kit was very generous and I have a very fine kitchen,” she babbled as she attempted to slow down the sudden racing of her heart. Mon Dieu, she thought, he finally kisses me then wants a tour! Calm yourself, Renee, all will be well.

    With obvious pride, Renee proceeded to show him her home. She paused, now and then, to show off a particular sculpture, a special photograph, inviting Duncan to get to know her better through her most precious possessions. A thickly carpeted circular staircase led them up to her bedroom - a loft that overlooked the living area below. The first thing Duncan noticed was the antique island-Colonial bed opposite the doorway. Sheer, almost gossamer, mesquito netting added to the tropical ambiance Renee had created throughout her house.
    As he moved further into the room he saw Renee had arranged a chaise lounge, several nesting tables and a high-backed rattan fan chair into a sitting area. A low railing of polished teak served as a safety barrier of sorts but didn’t restrict the view. As his gaze roamed over the rest of her sanctuary he took in the bookcases on either side of French doors which led to a small balcony. A solid mahogany mantel topped the low fireplace opposite her bed. Lining the top of the mantel were candlesticks in all shapes and colors - obviously handcrafted by native Caribbean artists. A matching mahogany framed mirror hung above the mantel reflected the bed and sitting area. Scatter rugs in the same brilliant tones of the candlesticks were strategically placed on the hard wood floor.
    “I’d be hard pressed to say which room I like the best Renee,” Duncan said as he continued to inspect her bedroom. “This is magical.”
    “I’m glad you like it. I love this room the best I think. It is perfect for cold, rainy days. It may be gray and depressing outdoors, but it’s bright and cheerful here,” Renee replied with self-satisfaction. In a conspiratorial voice she continued, “Sometimes when the winter storms come and I want to indulge myself, I light my candles, put a fire in the fireplace, open a bottle of wine, then curl up in bed with a book.”
    Renee smiled at Duncan as he made an approving sound low in this throat. Her smile faded as she saw his face become serious. Looking into her eyes he approached her, drew her close and kissed her again - this time it was not the light, soft kiss he'd given her downstairs. As he broke the kiss he whispered, “I think I’d like to see for myself how you indulge yourself. I’ll take care of lighting the fire if you’ll do the honors with the candles.”
    “Duncan,” Renee began.
    “We’ve been avoiding this for a long time, Renee.” Duncan interrupted her, his voice caressing as a touch. “I think it’s time we stopped avoiding this. I won’t push you but I think you want me to stay. Am I right or no?”
    “Yes, I want you to stay. Will you stay the night?” she asked.
    “But of course, cheri. Now, where do you keep the matches? I want to get the full effect of this room,” Duncan said as he kissed her lightly.
    Duncan lit a fire as Renee began to light the candles. Finishing their tasks simultaneously, they turned and faced each other, looking deeply into the others eyes. “Are you sure, Renee?” Duncan asked as he looked at her face. The glow of the candles on the mantel added golden highlights to her eyes.
    “Mais Oui, Duncan, very sure,” she whispered back, “I’ve been wanting you for a long time. If I had known, I would have served you a chicken curry a long time ago.”
    While kissing her deeply, Duncan began to slowly unbutton her blouse. His fingers were hot against her skin and Renee felt as if she was literally melting under their heat. Returning the favor, Renee did the same for him. She couldn’t believe she was finally touching him. Running her palms across the firm muscles of his chest made her feel slightly giddy and was she amazed to find herself getting weak at the knees. Feeling her sway against him, Duncan held her closer, molding her body to his. Tugging his shirt out of his pleated wool trousers, she eased it off and let it drop to the floor. Responding to the light scratching of her nails against his back, Duncan deepened their kiss as he finished removing her blouse.
    Working together, they tenderly removed the other’s clothing, the individual pieces pooling at their feet. There was none of the usual fumbling and awkwardness that sometimes happens with first time lovers. It was if they’d choreographed the scene a thousand times in their minds. When they were down to the last vestiges of fabric that separated them, Duncan scooped Renee into his arms and carried her to the bed. Gently positioning her lengthwise, he sat at the foot of the bed admiring her in the fire and candlelight.
    “I’ve thought about you, like this, Renee. I hoped we’d be together some day, but now that we’re here, it’s almost like a dream,” he said huskily and was rewarded with a sigh from Renee.  “I must to tell you something before we continue. Adam asked me to keep an eye on you. Kit and Adam are concerned about de la Garza. I don’t like him either. But, since he’s safely tucked in for the night, I’m happy to have the “excuse” to watch over you.”
    “Did you really believe you had to have an excuse, Duncan?” Renee asked. “I think everyone, Amanda included, has been subtly encouraging us for a long time. Sometimes not so subtly I think.”
    “Then let’s nae disappoint our friends,” he replied

    Miguel de la Garza was a patient man. It had taken three years to track his prey and he knew he was too close to let his emotions get in the way. "Finally," he thought, "I will be avenged." It gave him great pleasure to know he would not only dispose of the last of the de Santos, he would also have his revenge on Connor MacLeod. Killing Duncan MacLeod would be a bonus.
    De La Garza allowed his thoughts to wander as he waited for the others to retire for the night. He remembered, with bitterness, receiving the news that Renee had slipped through his grasp once again. He had sent his most trusted lieutenant to the Caribbean to track down a vague rumor that she’d found refuge on one of the smaller, more obscure islands. He’d flown to Guadeloupe to personally ensure there would be no mistakes if the rumor became a reality.
    “Mi Padrone, I regret to inform you that de Santos has slipped away once again,” Paco said with both fear and regret. “She was there, on Terre-de-Haute - we missed her by only a few days.”
    “What happened?” de la Garza demanded in a voice of deadly calm.
    “She, and two others, took a ferry to Guadeloupe. The next day they flew out, stopped briefly in St. Kitt’s then flew Air Florida to the mainland. I regret to report that we lost their trail in Miami. Our sources at Miami International tell us there were six different flights to six different destinations booked in their names. We are tracing those flights as we speak, Padrone.”
 “What else,” de la Garza demanded.
 “The report was accurate. We found the house of her parents. The house was closed and empty. I personally spoke with the real estate agent in the village. She referred me to a friend of de Santos - Marcello Cipriani. He told me she had gone on an extended holiday, with friends, and asked if I was interested in renting the house. I explained that I was looking for a suitable winter lease for an American executive.”
 “Who are her ‘friends’ Paco?”
 “Cipriani did not know the woman, but the man,” de la Garzas lieutenant paused dramatically, “was Connor MacLeod.”
 “Madre de Dios,” de la Garza swore violently. “I will take the greatest of pleasure in destroying that bastard.” To make his point, de la Garza spat on the floor. “The Scots are well known for their cunning. We shall see if their courage is equally as noteworthy.”
 De la Garza felt anger building inside him as he recalled the loss of many comrades to Connor MacLeod - de la Garza’s own brother not among the least of his losses. A knock on his bedroom door brought him back to the present.
    “Miguel? Are you awake?” Amanda called softly. “Miguel?”
    Feigning sleep, he produced an obnoxious rumbling snore. After a few minutes he saw the lights of the sitting area go out through the crack in underneath his bedroom door. Listening closely he heard Amanda close the door into her room.
    Sitting up slowly, careful not to make a sound, he reached into his open carry-on. Even in the darkness of the room his hand had no problem locating the can of hairspray tucked into a side compartment. Unscrewing the false bottom, he withdrew a long, gray cylinder - the silencer that was only waiting to couple with the other disassembled parts of his gun. American's are such fools, he thought to himself, with their pitiful attempts at gun control. The remainder of the components had been distributed throughout his luggage - assembled, he would never have been able to pass through the metal detectors of the various airports. Separately, they were incongruous and easily passed inspection..
    Silently thanking the American’s ‘need to know’ attitude, he mentally reviewed the layout of Riverhaven and Renee’s carriage house. It had been a simple matter to have copies of the blueprints of both buildings faxed to him in Barcelona.  De la Garza was confident he could maneuver his way out of Riverhaven and into the carriage house. Chuckling to himself, he sent malicious thanks to Kit for lighting his way from the main house to his quarry.

    “What did Duncan have to say when you spoke to him about de la Garza?” Kit asked as they prepared for bed.
    “Mfrumph,” Adam replied.
    “Excuse me?” Kit said as she turned her head towards to bathroom.
    “Sorry, you caught me with a mouth full of toothpaste!” Methos replied with a grin as he peeked around the door brandishing his toothbrush. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”
    Kit laughed and thought how comfortable it was to be with him like this at the end of an evening. As she brushed her hair, she realized she how contented she felt having him share the nighttime rituals.
    “Give me a kiss!” Adam demanded. His mouth tasted minty and fresh. As Kit tried to deepen the kiss, Adam pulled back. “Naughty girl! Talk first, kiss later,” he said with a smile in his voice as he walked to the bed, plopped himself down and began to arrange the pillows against the headboard.
    After making himself comfortable he continued, “Actually it didn’t take much persuasion on my part. He pretended reluctance but we both know he’d just been waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. He’s been rather restrained if you ask me. Actually, I don’t blame him for being cautious after Anne. What I don’t understand is why Amanda’s being so, how shall I put this, generous? She practically gave her approval this evening - that’s not like her at all where MacLeod’s concerned.”
    “You aren’t going to believe this, but she’s been worried about him for a long time,” Kit began to explain. “Between losing Tessa, Anne not being able to accept him, accept us, losing Richie and everything that came afterward, Amanda realized that she wasn’t enough. You know Duncan’s at his best when he’s involved with someone and Amanda’s too much of a free spirit. They’ll always love each other but it’s just not in the cards for them in a long-term kind of way.”
    “Not for lack of trying on her part,” Adam said dryly.
    “Now, now, Adam,” Kit chided. “Be nice.”
    “Oh, I’ll admit Amanda’s not all bad. I actually enjoyed her company this evening.” Adam conceded. “But she still rubs me the wrong way from time to time.”
    “Back to what you and Duncan talked about. What did he say about de la Garza and my feeling about him?” Kit asked bring him back to the original conversation.
    “The good news is Duncan doesn’t like him either. He told me he didn’t trust him from the moment they met in Paris. He’s been suspicious of him from the get-go but has left it alone since Amanda seems so infatuated with him. Infatuated with his money’s more like it.”
    “Adam, don’t digress,” Kit said sternly. “Tell me what else he said.”
    “My you’re demanding tonight, Kit!” Adam teased. “If you insist. Being his thorough self, MacLeod checked him out. He said there’s nothing he could put his finger on although he’s sure something’s not quite right about this guy. He’s independently wealthy, originally through inheritance, and has multiplied his assets through investments. He’s on the level about checking us out, vis-à-vis wanting to investigate the potential of a resort or B & B. Speaking of him being here, what’s the situation with them sleeping in separate beds? That’s not like the Amanda we all know and love.”
    “Why does this conversation keep returning to Amanda?" Kit asked, impatience coloring the voice. “For your information, de la Garza doesn’t travel well. - especially halfway around the world almost non-stop. She told me it’s a usual thing for him to crap out after a long trip and it’s no big deal to her. Back to Duncan if you don’t mind.” she prompted.
    “Why are you insisting on turning the conversation back to MacLeod?" Adam echoed, ducking as Kit threw her hairbrush at him. “Testy aren’t we?” continued with a smile. “All right, but there’s really not much more to tell. He agreed to walk Renee home, make sure she locked up and that was it. I do have something of a sneaky suspicion that he’ll stick around to tuck her in.”
    “I hope so,” Kit replied. “I’d love it if they got together.”
    “Aren’t you the little match-maker?” Adam teased.
    “I can’t help it,” Kit replied a little sheepishly. “I want Renee to be happy. I want Duncan to be happy. I want them to be happy together. God knows they’ve been flirting with the possibility long enough!”
    “And Amanda? What about her?” Adam said just to tweak her.
    “Of course, Amanda, too! Just not with de la Garza. I don’t like him, you don’t like him, Duncan doesn’t like him and he gives Renee the willies. That’s one vote for and four against,” Kit said firmly as if the issue had been decided. “All we have to do is convince her we’re right.”
    “Speaking of the best-laid plans, sweet Kit, looks like yours have gone a’glee,” Adam said as he gestured to the bedroom’s control panel for the alarm system. The light that signaled an open door was flashing. It indicated the kitchen door had opened and closed. “Oh well. Better luck next time.”
    “That’s funny, the alarm’s not been set. You don’t think Renee would have forgotten to tell Duncan to set it, do you?” Kit asked.
    “Not likely, she knows how we feel about securing our little fortress,” Adam replied. “I’ll pop down and set it. Perhaps MacLeod’s a bit preoccupied mulling over his rejection. He’s not been gone long enough to have conquered - he’s much too thorough for a hit ‘n run.”
    “You’re such a bad boy, Adam. Be nice. You know how touchy our Duncan can be when he doesn’t have his way,” Kit shot back just as the phone began to ring. “That’s odd. Who in the world would be calling this late? I’ll get it, you go on. It’s probably a wrong number anyway.”
    “Riverhaven, Kathryn....” she began.......

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