His Heart's Home by Stephanie Sterling

was a dancer.  He could watch her for hours without becoming bored.  Unfortunately that wasn’t an option today.  Ciaran had disappeared out of view, but he could remember what he had seen.
    He could remember what he had felt too the night before: holding her in his arms, crushing her generous breasts, stroking her silky skin.
    Duncan groaned and dragged his mind away from that avenue of thought - he ate his breakfast and tried to anyway.  It was hard to forget how exquisite she had been though.    Now that he knew why she had done it he shouldn’t find it all still so arousing - but he did.
    He felt guilty too. Was he betraying Aileen?  When he let himself stop and ask that question the answer seemed to be an obvious ‘yes’, which was why he tried not to stop and think about his late wife too often. 
    A very welcome distraction suddenly appeared in the form of Avery Connelly.
    “Hey lad, can you pass me my pack?” he asked, pointing to his bag.  The boy silently handed it over and Duncan got out a clean shirt and pulled it on. 
    Avery kept on staring at him without saying a word until he finally found his voice and blurted, “Ma says you’re going to look after us, are you?”
    “Well, I’m certainly going to try.”
    Avery considered this answer, and the uncertain blankness on his face slipped into a defensive frown. “We don’t need you!” he answered harshly. “We don’t need anybody but ourselves!”
    Duncan nodded slowly, not wanting to upset the child any more than he already was. “I know that,” he replied calmly, “But we can’t get it through Monsieur LaSoeur’s head.”
    “He’s wrong !” Avery insisted.
    The corner of Duncan’s mouth twitched in a playful grin. “Aye- Well, of course he is. He’s French!”
    Avery didn’t catch the humor, and his expression didn’t change. “I’ll be a man soon,” he argued doggedly. “I’m almost twelve, I can look after my brothers and Ma.”
    Duncan nodded. The boy had probably tried. He thought of the beating that Ciaran had suffered, and imagined the children had probably caught the wrong end of Sean’s temper as well. Duncan remembered how his own older brother had always looked after the rest of the MacRae children, always taking Duncan’s place in a fight, always covering for Ewan, always soothing things over with Maisie and taking blame that wasn’t his . No doubt it had been the same for Avery, but worse. Thomas had never had to defend his siblings from his father at least.
    Duncan couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, and decided to forgive the boy for his brusque manner - and to hope he could win him around. To that end, he shifted tactics.
    “Aye,” he said simply, acknowledging the boy’s claims of protection, “And that’s why I’m hoping you’ll help me out!”
    As he’d intended, Avery was taken by surprise by the declaration. “Help you?” he echoed.
    Duncan nodded again, “You’ve got a lot of brothers and sisters,” he explained, “I don’t know if I can keep up with them all myself - not unless you show me the ropes. I bet you always know if Ryan’s off getting in trouble….”  Avery nodded slowly, “Or if Aidan’s wandered off?” Another nod. “And I need someone to help me handle your mother.”
    “ Handle mother?”
    Duncan could have kicked himself as he watched the boy’s wary expression crumple back to a frown, informing him he’d just lost back all the ground he’d gained. It was a stupid choice of words.
    “Help her!” Duncan corrected quickly. “Keep her happy, I mean!”
    Avery’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
    “Because…” the Scotsman paused again. Avery was no fool - and he was nearly twelve. What’s more, his experience had been with men like Sean. It wouldn’t do to lie - but that didn’t mean that he had to confess everything either. Duncan decided on the barest truth. “Because I like your ma a lot.”
    “Aye, I know you ‘like her’!” Avery