A Lady in Defiance by Heather Blanton

took her hand.
“Ye are…”
    “Rebecca Castleberry.” She ushered him into the little room
where Hannah and Naomi were rising to their feet to greet their guest. “These
are my sisters Naomi Miller and Hannah Frink.”
    “No, no. This willna do.” His unexpected response drew
quizzical looks from the girls. “Emilio,” he called over his shoulder. They
heard the front door open and the boy came running. “I canna work without a
table and chairs. Go to Mr. McIntyre and tell him that exactly .”
    “ Si , Senor !” The boy practically lunged for the
front door.
    Ian turned back to the girls and winked. “Tis a true pleasure
to meet ye. Now, I’ve had my breakfast…” His eyes sought Rebecca. “I could,
however, do with a wee bit more o’ coffee.”
    Rebecca smiled broadly at him, puzzled that he made her feel
so cheerful. “Coming right up.” She hurried to the back wall, rummaged through
a wooden box sitting next to the stove and came up triumphantly with another
cup. As she poured the coffee, Rebecca noticed that Naomi was watching Mr.
Donoghue intently.
    “McIntyre tells me that ye ladies have come all the way from
North Carolina−thank ye.” He took the cup from Rebecca who couldn’t help
but linger just a moment, his eyes were so jovial and such a deep shade of
blue. “I’ve only been in America three years and still dunna my geography. It’s
somewhere in the South, isn’t it?”
    Rebecca grinned. “Just above Georgia and South Carolina, if
that helps. I’ve never met anyone from Scotland. Your brogue reminds me of the
clip-clop of horses on a brick street.”
    Something akin to astonished delight illuminated Ian’s face.
“Tha’ is the most wonderful description I’ve ever heard o’ my accent. Are ye a
writer?”
    Rebecca cleared her throat and fought the heat rising to her
cheeks.
    “Dear sister Rebecca used to work at a newspaper.” Naomi
stepped up to her sister and hugged her tightly, a move that struck Rebecca as
unusually showy. “She is the writer among us.”
    “How fortunate for ye.” Mr. Donoghue’s cup was poised at his
lips, yet he hadn’t taken his first sip. Instead, he seemed keenly interested
in Rebecca.
    Uncomfortable with his fascinated scrutiny and Naomi’s
smothering embrace, Rebecca shoved her hands into her apron pockets. “Well,
that’s what it reminded me of,” she said, gently shrugging off her sister’s
arm.
    Ian cleared his throat. “The difference between the right
word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the
lightning bug. Or so states Mr. Mark Twain. I would believe, Mrs. Castleberry,
that ye could describe lightning bolts from God’s throne.”
    Rebecca couldn’t stop an awed gasp. “Thank you…do you read
much?”
    “In Defiance there are three things to occupy a man. Two of
them are immoral. Reading is not.” The joke worked, evoking a giggle from the
sisters.
    Handsome and clever, Rebecca observed. She was quite
amused by him.
    Naomi again draped her arm across Rebecca’s shoulders. “How
did you come to be in America, Mr. Donoghue?” 
    He sipped his coffee and pondered the answer. “A wandering
and restless heart.” He stared blankly into his coffee seeing...what? Rebecca
wondered if he missed the bonnie hills of Scotland and the fields of heather.
“I left Sco’land when I was twenty-seven and have never been back.” She heard
the slightest hint of regret in his voice, but Ian shook his head as if
clearing away painful memories. “I’m sorry, I’ve no desire to be maudlin. I’ve
traveled the world and seen everything from Bangladesh to Bombay, from the Taj
Mahal to Buckingham Palace.” He punctuated the confession with a wink tossed to
Rebecca. “It’s been a grand adventure.”
    His smile, though a little sad, felt like a fresh breeze
blowing dust off Rebecca’s heart. The sensation took her by surprise and she
nodded. “It sounds like it.” 
    To Rebecca’s dismay, Naomi chose that