He looked down at the circlet of flowers she held in her hands. “I suppose.”  He frowned, his gray-green eyes intense as he watched her fingers lightly gliding over the flowers.

 “Would you like one?” she asked him, a smug smile on her face. “I can make you one.”

 For one moment, he looked at her as if she was daft for suggesting such a thing.  He said, “Well...no.  Thank you anyway.”

 She frowned at him.  “Well, then what is it, then?”

 He opened his mouth, then closed it, his frown deepening.  Then, as if unable to help himself, he asked, “What did you have to go doing that for, though? Weren’t they pretty enough by themselves?”

 She dropped the circlet, propped her hands on her hips, and gave him “that look.”  He felt the hairs on his nape stand on end.  “What would you know about it?” she asked, looking down her nose at him, “you’re just a boy, and not a very tall one at that.”

 He crossed his arms over his chest, and glared up at her, unable to argue that point. Before he could think of a quick rejoinder, she’d stalked off.  He crouched down and gently lifted the circlet of flowers.  He ran his fingers lightly over the flowers, then lifted his gaze, following her path back home.

Miranda stood on the old deck, her eyes drawn out over the Loch.  How often had she played there as a child? Frolicking on the beach without a care in the world.  Every year, like clockwork, her father had brought them there.  They’d spend time with the relatives, catching up on the months apart.  Uninterested in people so much older than her, she wandered out onto the Loch, which was where she’d met him.

 They’d become fast friends, laughing and playing together on the beach.  Or laying on their backs in the meadow, their eyes on the skies above them, searching for shapes in the clouds.  She’d been fascinated by his accent, wishing she’d had one as well. A smile curved her full lips as she remembered him telling her that she did have an accent...an American one.  How she had laughed at that!

 But she hadn’t laughed much that last summer.  Her dad had been sick through much of it, and they’d finally had to go home earlier than planned. She’d always regretted not saying goodbye to her dear friend with the stormy sea eyes.

 “Tis beautiful, isn’t it?”

 She jumped, whirling on the spot.  Her jaw dropped open as she looked at him, her eyes first hitting him mid-chest before slowly traveling up and up and up into his stormy sea eyes.  “Good lord,” she breathed, “Gerry, is that you?”

 He smiled, and her breath caught in her throat.  Gerry had been a gangly youth, not very tall, and rather thin on top of that.  In the years since she’d last seen him, though, he’d filled out.  ‘And quite nicely, too,’ she thought, taking in every inch of him.  His hair was cut short, and his chin was bristly, as if he hadn’t shaved recently. He was taller than her now, and she found she didn’t mind at all having to look up at him.  His gray-green eyes twinkled, and he smiled.  “Hello, Miri,” he said softly, holding his arms out, waiting.

 She stepped into them, and fought back a groan as his arms closed around her.  Her body reacted to him instantly, the strength of him, the scent of him.  She closed her eyes, holding him close.

 “Welcome home, Miri.” His breath fanned over her ear as he spoke, and she shivered.

 She pulled back, but only as far as the length of his arms. His hands held fast to hers.  “You’ve done a bit of growing, it seems,” she said, unable to hide her smile.

 “Just a bit,” he replied, smiling gently.  “Would you come with me, Miri?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her face.  “I’ve something I’m wanting to show you.”

 She grinned up at him.  “As you wish,” she replied, effecting a small curtsy though he still held her hands captive in his own very large ones.  Dimples flashed in her cheeks as she added, “Lead on, MacDuff.”

 “We’re in the wrong neck of the woods if you’re looking for the MacDuffs,” he replied, the hint of a grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

 He led her through off the deck and through the wild flowers running rampant.  “I was sorry to hear about your da passing so unexpected like.”

 “Well,” she began, then cleared her throat, “well, he’d been sick for awhile. So it wasn’t totally unexpected.”

 They walked in companionable silence for a while. When they reached the end of the field, and where the beach began, he stopped.  He turned to face her.  One large hand rose slowly, and lightly caressed her cheek.  “I’ve missed you, Miri.”

 His voice had deepened to a purr.  Her heart hammered in her chest as she found herself lost in his stormy eyes.  “I’ve thought you of you as well,” she breathed.

 He smiled, and she shivered, fighting the urge to sway forward.  “Have you now?” he asked softly.  He stared deep into her eyes. “Close your eyes, Miri.”

 Her lids slipped obediently shut.  For one moment, his hands left hers, and she swayed.  She opened her mouth to protest, but it died silently as his one large hand steadied her.  “Ok, now, Miri, open your eyes.”