to leave because of me. I was just taking a walk. It’s too warm in the house, and I enjoy a bit of quiet after the children go to sleep.”
“Aye, the bairns are a handful, they are,” he said, smiling, “but I do love seeing them running about. They remind me of home.”
“Where is your home?” Genevieve asked, sitting down on the opposite side of the bench and looking at Cameron from under her lashes. He was in his mid-twenties, tall and broad, with a strong muscled body that spoke of years of hard work. Most of the men wore a beard, mostly because they were too tired and lazy to shave, but Cameron was smoothly-shaven, his face lean and tanned to a golden brown from hours of being in the sun.
“My home is near Glasgow, on the West Coast o’ Scotland.” He seemed sad as he answered, his eyes full of nostalgia for his homeland. Genevieve didn’t mean to pry, but she just had to ask. “How did you come to be here?”
“Oh, tis a long story, lass, one for another night. I must find my bed if I’m to do an honest day’s work tomorrow. Good night to ye, Miss Genevieve.” He gave her a warm smile before heading toward the barracks, his wet shirt stuck to his back and his damp hair framing his face. Genevieve sat for a little while longer, curious about this man who seemed so different from all the rest. Most of the men either sold themselves into servitude or were sent down as punishment for a crime, but Genevieve couldn’t imagine that Cameron fitted into either category, unless he just wanted to come to the New World and start a new life, but had no means of doing it. He probably hadn’t realized that the men were worked to the bone, their spirit broken, and their health destroyed before they could finally work off their contract and strike out on their own. She hoped to find out in time, eager to learn anything she could about the reticent man who drew her eye every time he was in the vicinity.
She wasn’t sure if they met by accident or if Cameron timed his baths with her walks, but they ran into each other a few more times before he became more forthcoming. He told her of his home, of how the sky was so vast and blue; blending with the sea in the distance, so it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. He spoke of great mountains rising out of fertile valleys where the land was green as far as the eye could see, except when heather bloomed, and then it was like a carpet of purple, rippling in the wind and beckoning the young girls to abandon their chores and go wading through that endless sea, running their fingers over the little flowers and putting sprigs in their hair. Cameron never spoke of what happened to make him leave his home and become an indentured servant, and Genevieve didn’t ask. He’d tell her in time. For now, he seemed happy just to have someone to talk to.
It seemed very natural when he cupped her cheek with his work-roughened hand and kissed her softly on the lips, sending shivers up her spine. His kisses were chaste, but the warmth that pooled between Genevieve’s thighs was anything but, her body craving that which she had denied it for so many years. He must have sensed it, for he pulled away, rising to his feet abruptly and bidding her a good night. He was an honorable man, despite his status, and he would do nothing to cause her any distress or compromise her reputation.
**
Genevieve ran down to the pond, hoping she wasn’t too late. If only Evie hadn’t heard her coming out of her room, but if Cameron wanted to see her, he would wait. He was bound to be there after the kiss they shared last night. He might have bolted, but he must have thought about it during the day, as eager to see her as she was to see him. She imagined his face, alight with yearning, his eyes smiling in that special way that was reserved only for her, and she blushed in the darkness, ashamed to be so eager for more kisses.
B