Camille Cannon (Eide)
EXTREME KEYBOARDING (This is an excerpt from the middle of the book. We saw an early chapter here.)
No letters were exchanged in the weeks that followed. Maggie didn’t have time. Kirkhaven’s annual summer festival, held in early July this year, was about to take place and she was in a flap to get ready.
Claire, Davy, Jack, Douglas, Callie, and Hannah all arrived Friday before the festival to attend the evening events, which were mainly a barbeque and field games in the village. Claire stayed with Maggie to put the finishing touches on her berry concoctions to sell at the farm stand on Saturday. Callie and Hannah squabbled over who would win first prize in the fancy dress contest.
With a steady summer rain making a mess of the football field, the Friday night games were canceled, bringing Davy and the boys back to the farm with nothing else to do but help pack pies and jam jars into crates. Ian thought Davy was even more disappointed than the boys were. [Establish POV sooner. Although maybe it wouldn’t be an issue if I was more familiar with the characters.]
He was a different man, his brother in law. Ian had spoken to him a number of times since the spring, since he returned home to his family in Glasgow, and each time he thought Davy seemed more at peace, more attentive to his family, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t found steady work for the first several months. Whatever caused Davy’s new outlook, it didn’t seem to be just a passing phase. Ian hoped to get a chance to talk with him at length while he was here.
Saturday morning, the smell of breakfast cooking met Ian as he climbed the drive to the main house. He spent the night at the cottage, giving up his room to Claire and Davy. Maggie’s voice carried above the clamor as he entered the kitchen, calling for someone to find another girdle for her scones. She was nearly bursting, never happier than when she had a houseful to feed.
Ian groaned at the staggering pile of kippers on the table, fried in butter until crisp, and rashers of bacon mounded in another heap on the bunker. Claire stood over a bubbling pot of porridge, stirring with Maggie’s old, blackened spurtle.
“Ian, here—take this over to the bunker. Don’t drop it.” Claire smiled.
He heaved the gurgling pot across the kitchen with a loud groan. “What’s in here, stones? It weighs more than you do. No wonder you can’t lift it.”
“Funny. I wonder where you’d get an idea like that. No, it’s just oats and water this time. Don’t fash yourself; I’ve kept a sharp eye on it.”
Ian chuckled.
Davy sauntered in, hooked an arm around Claire and kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him with a playful frown, then smiled and slipped an arm around his waist. It was good to see that.
Ian turned away. The simple endearment implied an intimacy that tugged at his chest, tugged hard. Without warning, Jamie’s warm eyes and tender smile came to mind.
[I think I’d skip the line “It was good to see that.” To me, it sort of contradicts his turning away. “It was good to see that” leaves a warm, cozy feeling. Then he turns away and the affectionate gesture is tugging hard at his heart. That’s a switch of emotion. Leave it more to the reader to interpret how he felt by his reaction.]
“Ian!” He turned and Davy tossed him the truck keys. “The truck is parked out back, mon. All ready for Maggie’s . . . uh . . .” Davy held up a jar and frowned at the clotted contents, then turned to Ian and mouthed, “What is this stuff?”
Ian grinned. “Jam, I’m almost certain. Let’s load it up then.”
“What’s that?” Maggie whirled around and glared in Davy’s general direction. “No! Not ‘til ye’ve had breakfast. Drop that crate, David Kendal—did ye not hear me?”
How Maggie knew Davy had a crate in his hands was anyone’s guess.
Maggie continued scolding as she scooped the girdle scones into a basket. Only two landed on the floor. Not bad.
Footsteps thundered from the stairs in the hall, growing louder until Jack and Douglas burst in, squeezing through the narrow kitchen doorway at the same time. Jack shouldered his younger brother aside with a laugh and bolted for the bunker where Maggie had a stack of plates waiting. Douglas lunged at Jack, but Claire stepped in and raised the black gooey spoon at Douglas in warning.
“It’s just a joke, ma.” Jack grinned at his scowling brother. “Dougie knows I’m first.”
“Pish! There’s plenty, no need for all that. Eat now, laddies—ye’ve loads to do!”
Claire left to round up the girls. Ian dished up a plate and edged himself in at the table next to his oldest nephew. Jack spied the truck key the moment Ian laid it down and turned to Maggie.
“I’ll drive the truck to the village for you, Grannie,” Jack said around a mouthful of food.
“Och, will ye now?”
Maggie was surprisingly fast for a nearly blind old woman. From the corner of his eye, Ian saw her hand reaching for the key, but another, smaller hand coming from behind him was quicker. The sound of giggling brought Ian spinning around in his seat. The giggling was coming from behind Claire, who dangled the truck key above Ian’s head. Smart woman; she’d learned quickly while Ian was away.
“Ian and Davy can take the truck and Jack and Douglas will ride in the back. Maggie, you and the girls can come with me in the station wagon.”
Maggie planted her fists on her hips. “I’ll go where I fancy. It’s my truck.”
More giggling erupted from Claire’s backside.
Ian winked at his sister and cleared his throat. “I heard there’s some very serious competition at the fancy dress contest this year. It’s a shame there won’t be any faeries.”
Callie slipped out from hiding behind her mom with a giggle and scurried away to get her breakfast, but Hannah emerged in a heartbeat and darted over to Ian. “No, look—I’m a faerie princess, Uncle Ian. Look at me, see?” She twirled in her gown to prove it.
Douglas snorted, and Hannah turned to her brother. “I am a faerie.”
He snickered. “You’re just a wee a lass in a purple frock. What happened to your wings, princess?”
Hannah’s mouth fell open and she turned pleading eyes to Ian. He lifted her to his knee and turned to Douglas. “Where’s your imagination, mon? Now then, I see a bonny faerie princess here who doesn’t need wings. All she needs is some faerie dust—right here and here.” Ian smiled as he drew a circle on each of her round cheeks with his finger.
“Do you have faerie dust, Uncle Ian?” Hannah asked, eyes growing wide.
Jack and Douglas hooted.
“No, but I know where you can get some. They have some very special faerie dust at the face painting booth, just for you.”
Claire, who had been watching this exchange with a smile, cocked her head at Ian.
“Is it purple and sparkly?” Hannah asked.
“Aye, extra sparkly.” he said with a chuckle. Above his niece’s head, Claire’s eyes glistened.
“Well I’ll get my face painted too then,” Callie chimed in. “But no sparkles—I’m a pirate.”
[Some cute moments there. But I have to ask, does this scene move the story forward? You can answer better than me. It’s hard to judge, cutting into the middle. But it seems like a few incidents without much focus.]
The entire family helped get Maggie’s booth set up and ready for business, then they found a spot near the fountain in the center of the village and watched the parade together. The girls waved and giggled. Their excitement was contagious and Ian wondered how Jamie would like this. He’d watched her with her students, and knew she would have as much fun seeing the awe and delight bubbling out of these girls as he did.
The girls would adore her. They all would, actually.
After the parade, Jack and Douglas checked out all the food booths while they waited for the next round of field games to begin. Ian joined Claire and Davy as they took the girls around to the different game booths in the school yard. Claire let Hannah and Callie talk her into getting her face painted along with them.
As he and Davy waited for the girls, Ian’s thoughts returned to Jamie. It was so easy to picture her here, a part of this quirky, loving family. It was also easy to imagine her with kids of her own.
Their own.
He tried to listen to what Davy was saying, but the stirring image wouldn’t leave, suddenly wouldn’t let him breathe.
That’s what I want. To share a life with Jamie. To give her the family and everything else her heart desires. That’s all I want, Lord. She’s all I want.
What did Jamie want? What were her feelings for him? There had been a number of times when a hint, a promise of something very tender in Jamie’s eyes gripped his heart and held him fast.
At that moment, he’d give anything to see that look again. Just once.
“Hey! Didn’t you hear me?” Davy grinned at him. “You’re somewhere else. Aye—I know the look.”
Ian frowned. “What?” He glanced at his watch. It was 4:00am in Oregon.
Davy chuckled. “You’re trolling across Loch Lomond, or casting off the banks of the Forth.” He leaned back against a tree. “Whenever you want to go fishing, just say the word. I’ll go with you. The boys too.”
“The boys go fishing with you now?” Ian asked.
“Aye. Every time.”
Ian nodded.
Davy leaned closer and spoke low. “Neither of them catches much. I don’t know why they keep wanting to go.”
“Don’t you now? I think maybe you do.” Ian turned his gaze to the booth where Claire, Callie and Hannah were. They were all giggling at Claire’s new tiger face, which she was viewing through a small mirror.
Davy turned and studied at Ian’s face for a moment, and then said, “Aye, all right, I suppose I do. You were right about that.” He shook his head. “Kids—they don’t care what their da brings home; they only care that he comes home.” He turned to watch his wife and daughters and his voice dropped, low and strained. “That was hard, at first. Without a job, I hated to look them in the eye.” He squirmed, shifted his position against the tree. “I didn’t think they needed me. But I realized I was wrong, that was selfish. I was wrong, mon, about a lot of things.”
“Wrong about what? You finally figured out what a tiger you married then?” Claire asked as she and the girls joined them. She snarled, wrinkled her little black nose and whiskers, and planted a full nose-to-nose kiss on her husband.
The girls giggled.
[Again, I enjoyed what I read, but I can't see what it's doing to move the story along. Just some thoughts of the love interest. The structure isn't very much like a scene. Nothing really happens--it's over before it begins. No hook to the next scene. It needs to continue so it can tie into something bigger.]