Restoring the Castle: Restoring Faith Romances, Book One

By Joni M. Hill

Ian MacLeod and Annie Montgomery share much in common. As joyful children, although not actually related, they share a bond like brother and sister. As unhappy adults, they both suffer. Childhood summers spent together at Kilmegan Castle, Ians ancient home on the Isle of Skye in Scotland, are full of adventures. Ian and Annie feel remarkable affection for one another, hoping that one day they will embark on the ultimate adventure together: repair and restoration of the castle. Even after Ian loses his father and Annie loses her mother, life is wonderfuluntil Annie begins to see Ian differently. In time, Annie becomes a gifted pianist and a talented architect. With fondness for Kilmegan Castle undimmed, she specializes in historical preservation. But Annie is also miserable, hopelessly suffering unrequited love for Ian. Only prayer and her faith in God help Annie to rise above her longings. Meanwhile, following an argument, Ians wife dies in an accident on icy roads. Grief and guilt cause Ian to stop praying. He stops going to church. He is no longer certain that God exists. Ian feels broken. Like Kilmegan Castle, there are some good things going on inside, but mostly Ian just needs major restoration. Now, Duncan Montgomery, Annies papa, is dying. He is convinced that God will allow him enough time to perform one last task, securing his daughters happiness. Will Duncan succeed? Will Annie find love? Will Ian find restored faith?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Aug 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781490806082

Joni M. Hill

Retired after twenty-five years teaching youth Christian education, Joni Hill began writing as a way to continue witnessing her faith. Hill, who holds degrees in English, history, and library science, lives with her husband on a beautiful lake in Indiana. They are parents to two “only” children born fifteen years apart.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

With long, graceful fingers on the keys of a piano, Annie could give life to the music perpetually residing in her thoughts. Hers was a remarkable talent, a God-given gift that she cherished, but she had another interest that gave her even more satisfaction. She had acquired the knowledge and possessed the vision to restore vitality to historical buildings ravaged by time until they were little more than ruins. She could make those buildings possess beauty and function again. She once told her father, Duncan Montgomery, that architectural restoration made her feel like a unique surgeon, who repaired foundations and beams instead of organs and bones.

Now, Annie wished with all her heart that she could somehow touch her father the way she effortlessly touched the piano keys and give him life the way she gave life to the music she composed. Annie wished that she could restore her father’s health the way she restored a building. However, human life was not music or architecture, and her father’s life was in God’s hands, not hers. Today, the doctor’s report left no doubt that God would soon take Duncan home. Annie’s papa was dying.

Annie and her father had always shared a special bond, but their relationship became even closer after the death of Annie’s beloved mother, Sarah, twelve years earlier when Annie was seventeen. Then Annie and her father became inseparable, mourning their loss together, comforting one another with a mutually firm belief that Sarah still lived, and knowing that one day they also would be embraced by God in eternity.

But a twenty-nine year old Annie never imagined that her father would be embraced so soon. Duncan was only fifty-five years old, and the prospect of living without him was impossible for Annie to contemplate.

Duncan Montgomery was a wealthy, self-made Scotsman, who truly enjoyed the challenges he faced in his business career, but primarily he worked for the benefit of his family. He believed that family, next to God, is everything. Yet sometimes he needed to be reminded to slow down, because, in his desire to provide for his family, it was easy to become too focused on business.

Annie, more than a decade ago, had promised her fragile mother that Annie would always look after Duncan. And, with her father’s tendency to labor too hard at times, Annie had learned gently but firmly to bend his focus away from work when needed. Even God rested on the seventh day, Annie occasionally reminded her papa.

Duncan always laughed at those words and embraced his daughter, saying, Never compare me to our Holy Father! I’m no where near good enough.

After her mother’s death, whenever education and career allowed, Annie kept house for her father. She also served as her father’s hostess when Duncan entertained. Performed flawlessly and without complaint, the domestic responsibilities gave Annie a mature sense of having accomplished good for someone else. Indeed, from an early age, as often happens with an only child who spends a great deal of time with adults, Annie was more mature and sophisticated than her years would lead some to expect.

Annie did not perceive this fact. She considered herself far too emotional to be truly mature. Tears were her constant companion. She cried when happy and laughing as well as when hurting and sad. She cried for herself, and she cried for others. She wore her feelings and her empathy prominently, hiding visible emotion only with extreme effort.

Therefore, Annie scoffed at any mention of her sophistication, believing maturity and sentimentality did not exist in harmony. She mistook a passionate nature for an immature one, and more often than not she despised her tears, believing that they reflected childishness.

The relationship of protector and protected was especially strong between father and daughter, encouraged by Annie’s emotionality and Duncan’s tendency to overwork, although who was protector and who was protected often shifted. Annie relied on and trusted her father, but Duncan relied on and trusted his daughter, too. Their devotion to one another was deep and complete. They shared their triumphs and their troubles. They talked about everything important and about nothing special. They faced the world as a team—just as they were facing the reality of Duncan’s declining health together.

Hand in hand, they sought the first doctor’s advice, then the specialist’s verdict, followed by second and third opinions. But the diagnoses remained the same: Annie was going to lose her father, her champion, the object of her dedication. And even now, before the end, she felt a crushing sense of loneliness and helplessness.

Knowing from experience that it was beneficial for someone to share her grief, Annie did not want to face her coming loss alone. However, an especially close relationship with her father had crowded out normal, nurturing friendships. Consequently, Annie had many friends, but no one with whom she felt close enough to seek support—no special girlfriends and certainly no boyfriend.

She had a good relationship with the rector of her church, Father Aaron Thomas, but, although he was a fine man whose wise counsel Annie often sought, he was not the sort to wrap his arms around her. Yet a warm hug was the type of support she wanted now. Annie was a woman who needed to hold and be held.

With so few intimate friends, besides her father, Annie had only one other source of comforting human touch. She could look to Scotland. In the land of her father’s birth, their only remaining relatives resided, relatives that Annie loved with all her heart.

She knew that the family in Scotland would warmly embrace her, sharing this sorrow, providing love and support, but were they not already suffering the painful loss of a loved one? The thought of adding more to her family’s grief brought predictable tears to Annie’s eyes.

How can I burden them further? Annie silently fretted. Maybe it would be best if she just sought solitary comfort through prayer. God was not a warm human hug, but he would help her. She was certain of that.

On the other hand, her Scottish family should know better than most how to deal with loss. Perhaps Annie was being a coward, seeking excuses in an effort to distance herself from Scotland, attempting to avoid difficult choices.

Indeed, support from Scotland would be a most difficult solution to choose, not just because Annie’s family currently dealt with their own recent loss, but even more because Ian was in Scotland. Ian was the source of her cowardice—Ian, whom she both earnestly loved and diligently avoided.

The overwhelming passion that she felt for Ian was the only secret Annie never intended to share with her father. In fact, she never intended to share her secret with any living soul. No matter what the emotional cost, Annie intended that only God would ever know how much she loved Ian.

Since it always took extreme effort for Annie to conceal her transparent emotions, the necessity to hide what she felt for Ian became an immense burden over the years. How does someone manage to show the right amount of affection without revealing a deeper longing? It was a balancing act that exhausted Annie, masking her true feelings while offering a proper fondness.

Annie reasoned that if she did not see Ian, her thoughts would not dwell on him. Yet she never managed to banish him from her mind, nor was he ever out of her heart. At least, Annie thought, by avoiding Ian, she could eliminate accidental detection of her love. Therefore, only three times had she seen him in the last five years, and she had kept those encounters as brief as possible.

The third meeting, twelve weeks ago at Kate’s funeral, had been torturously bittersweet, making Annie excessively reluctant to be near Ian again. Yes, Annie would need to debate carefully and pray diligently before seeking solace from her family in Scotland.

If Annie had only taken into consideration how extremely close she and her father were, she might have realized that it was impossible to hide secret feelings from her papa, because Duncan knew his daughter far too well.

At first, all those years ago, beginning the summer after his wife’s death, Duncan had harbored a suspicion about Annie’s evolving love for Ian. When Annie began shielding her emotions, avoiding Ian, someone she had known and had openly adored most of her life, her father knew the truth.

Now, Duncan believed, if his daughter was going to share sympathy with the family in Scotland, he would need to take matters into his own hands.

Father and daughter sat in the back seat of their chauffer-driven car, heading home, holding hands. Annie’s head lay on her father’s shoulder, and Duncan felt her trembling. The consultation with a third neurological oncologist had just ended. With the details of Duncan’s malignancy irrefutably confirmed by the best specialists available, all hope for a cure had been removed.

Resigned, Duncan had refused treatments that could only slow the lethal progression of his cancer, not halt or reverse it. He had decided merely to allow modern medicine to keep him as comfortable as possible while awaiting the inevitable.

Although the car was warm, the heater on high this late February morning, Annie shivered as if she had been immersed in the Sea of the Hebrides, frigid in winter. She supposed she was experiencing something akin to shock. Acceptance of her father’s terminal condition required bravery that Annie was currently incapable of summoning. Plagued by her blatantly visible and spontaneous emotions, Annie was equally beset by an inability to rally speedy, calm control. To achieve tranquil courage, she needed both time and prayer.

An avid believer in the power and comfort of prayer, Annie spoke with God almost as much as she spoke with her fellow human beings: formally on a regular basis but just as often personally, informally, frequently. However, at the moment, she was unwilling to pray, because she was disappointed that God’s response to her request for healing was not what she had hoped.

Annie was aware that she needed to change her divine petition and look to her father’s needs rather than her own hopes and desires, but, with despair weighing heavily, she was afraid that her words in prayer would be less than humble. Right now, she wanted to rail at God for not sparing her father’s life, placing the blame at God’s door for this awful heartache. But, since she would not speak with God in anger, she believed that she needed to wait to pray until her disappointment was under control.

She did not like being out of harmony with God, but Annie understood that she was human and flawed as much as anyone else. She knew her anger and disappointment would ease, and she had no intention of turning her back on the Lord. She just needed time for a short detour. She needed time to accept the inevitable.

For his part, Duncan had already reached acceptance before visiting this last oncologist. He had not expected the most recent brain scans would reveal anything new. He had kept the appointment mostly to humor his daughter.

Unlike Annie, Duncan felt no need to postpone prayer to work through disappointment. He had been praying fervently and constantly for the past several weeks, but he had not been praying for miraculous healing, so he felt no disappointment. He had other things to discuss in his conversations with the Lord. After placing his humble confession and heart-felt repentance before God, Duncan prayed about Annie.

Faced with his own mortality, Duncan found that he was not afraid to die. Of course, he did not look forward to walking the path he expected to traverse before arriving on death’s threshold. Surely, no sane man could embrace pain and suffering without some fear and trepidation. However, Duncan also had a curiosity about death and eternity that craved answers. Although he was relatively young, he felt blessed with a good and full life, and he was ready to see what came next.

He could be completely content, Duncan mused, if he was not concerned for Annie, concerned about the effect that his death would have on his emotional daughter.

Annie’s entire world currently consisted of her faith, her father, her old buildings, and her music—important things that unfortunately prompted her to be too often alone. However, although Annie was overly solitary, she was also selfless and caring. She liked people, and she constantly sought to inspire happiness in others.

Duncan wanted Annie to find the same joy that she inspired. He believed that it was past time for Annie’s world to expand. Certainly, he reasoned, God would understand a loving, father’s desire for his daughter’s happiness, so Duncan prayed for guidance.

Consequently, whether the plan that had been taking shape in his mind was his own composition or divine inspiration did not matter to Duncan. Upon prayerful reflection, he became convinced that God would allow him the time to complete one last task for Annie’s benefit.

Perhaps his plan had a few ethical gray areas. Even so it was meant for the greater good. Surely, God would forgive a little manipulation for a selfless purpose. Duncan did not expect to break any of the Ten Commandments or to harm anyone. He just planned to exert a little pressure. The protector in him intended to protect. And, after this last, doctor’s report, he was convinced that it was time to set his plan in motion.

Duncan drew a deep breath and let it out with resignation and intent. As he squeezed Annie’s hand, he said, I think we should go to Kilmegan while I can still manage it.

Duncan’s words were quietly spoken, but Annie heard his voice shatter the silence as if a massive sheet of plate glass was breaking. She flinched but remained silent, listening.

I want to spend my final days at the castle with you, Barbara, and the lads. I have the luxury of choice, and I choose to die where my life began—back home in Scotland—surrounded by my loved ones.

So, Annie thought, I won’t need to decide about Scotland after all. Papa made the decision for me.

She felt torn between wanting to please her father and wanting to avoid the longings that awaited her in Scotland. Annie shook her head in desperation but kept the motion restricted, unnoticeable. Inevitable tears welled up in her eyes. She wondered how she could manage to be near Ian again. But how could she deny her father’s last wishes? She had to go.

Besides, Annie desperately needed her Aunt Barbara right now, and Barbara would need her. A single, salty droplet rolled down the side of Annie’s nose and dripped off the corner of her upper lip. She forced one meager, conflicted protest through a painfully tight throat. Are you sure that’s best? Your doctors are here.

Yes, lass, I’ve considered carefully, and it is for the best. Duncan lifted his arm to surround Annie’s shoulders. His hand began a slow, comforting rhythm, stroking her arm from shoulder to elbow, repeating the motion over and over. With his caress, he hoped to share his tranquility and warmth. I don’t want you to be alone now, and Michael will help with my medical needs, he explained.

Tears continued to fall slowly as Annie observed despondently, They’re already mourning, Papa. How can we ask them to take on more?

Ah, Annie, you know they’ll take it on whether we’re at Kilmegan or here in Boston. There is no way to prevent that. They love us as much as we love them. We need to go. I need to know that you’ll be with those who love you, and I need to be with them, too.

Annie thought, Oh, Papa! You don’t know. You don’t understand. It will be so hard being with Ian again! But she said, hauling in a deep, sniffling breath, If it’s what you want, we’ll go. Of course we’ll go.

Isn’t it what you want? Don’t you want to be with the family? Duncan wondered if Annie would finally reveal her secret love for Ian, but he did not harbor much hope that she would, and he was not prepared to confront his daughter with what he already knew—not yet.

Annie avoided her father’s question. It’s impossible to think right now, Papa, she said. She added with an explosive sob, I don’t want this to be happening!

Annie’s weeping erupted in geysers of bitter, uncontrollable tears.

His heart breaking over Annie’s despair, Duncan sighed. Moisture also gathered in his eyes, but Annie would not become calm if he let his own tears fall. Instead, he offered the help he knew she needed.

Speaking slowly and serenely, he said, It is not for us to question God’s will, Annie. He gave his words a moment to sink deep and continued, We’ll take it one step at a time. We’ll be home soon. I’ll call Barbara, give her the latest report, and let her know we’re coming. We’ll need a few days to get our affairs in order and see to the packing. Then we’ll head to Skye. You know it’s for the best. Your aunt will need you as much as you’ll need her. Being with the family will bring you comfort.

Annie thought, Being with Ian is no comfort! But it was not possible for Annie to wallow long in self pity. Her mind and her heart turned unfailingly toward others. She said around her sobs, Don’t talk to Aunt Barbara if she’s alone, Papa. Make sure that Ian or Michael is with her. Make sure she’s not alone! This news will be hard for her to hear. We were praying for a miracle.

I’ll see to it. Don’t worry! I think I’ll want to talk to Michael first anyway. We’ll need his medical knowledge. Then we’ll all face this together—just as we all faced Kate’s death together. At least we’ll have a chance to say our good byes this time. Kate’s accident was very sudden.

Annie pushed agonized words out in a quiet wail, What will Ian feel? He loves you like a father. He lost his wife, and now he’ll lose you, too! Oh, Papa! Why is God doing this?

Duncan stared at the top of his daughter’s head for a moment. Then he placed his cheek upon the golden brown strands of her hair. You don’t really believe God is doing this, he quietly declared. I know you don’t. A brain tumor is doing this. God is watching, ready to help us cope. Don’t you remember? Jesus said at the Sermon on the Mount that blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted. I’m not afraid to die, Annie. I look forward to being with Jesus. I’ll be with your mother again. Dry your tears, lass! We’ll think about what needs to be done, and we’ll do it. The Lord will help us if we ask him.

Father and daughter did not speak again on the ride home. Duncan was pensive. His thoughts were aimed an ocean away at Kilmegan Castle. His remaining time would be short, and he still had much to accomplish there. He continued a slow, comforting caress, lovingly stroking Annie’s arm while he contemplated the days ahead.

Annie concentrated on ceasing her crying. She forced herself to take a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly. Then she took another deliberate breath. A fervent prayer was finally forming. She was not sure whether she was reaching out to God or God was reaching out to her, but she welcomed the bond.

Lord God, Holy Jesus, please forgive my silence, my disappointment, and my distance! Help my papa and me. Please, Lord, we need your strength and comfort!

Annie released her heartbreak into God’s hands with each expelled breath. Her ears heard loud and jarring sounds: traffic outside the car, the heater fan inside, the ragged sound of her breath as she struggled to move air through her lungs, even her father’s hand as he caressed her arm under the fabric of her coat sleeve. Another breath—deep in, slowly out. In. Out. After a few more cleansing inhalations and exhalations, the loud sounds began fading. Her heartbeat slowed and calm spread warmly from her core to her extremities. Her shivers ceased. She closed her eyes.

I accept your will, Lord. But, if it be your will, don’t let my papa suffer. Let his passing be peaceful. Guide Michael to ease Papa’s pain. Comfort my Aunt Barbara and the family, especially Ian. And help me to endure seeing him again!

CHAPTER 2

Duncan Montgomery and his twin sister, Barbara, grew up in the village of Kilmegan on the rocky, western seashore of the Isle of Skye, Scotland. After a university education, Barbara returned to the village to teach music, and she eventually married a wealthy widower with two young sons. But Duncan headed down a different path. With a business degree in hand, he took advantage of profitable opportunities and sought his fortune in the United States, although it was impossible to erase his homeland from his heart.

In Boston, Duncan met Sarah, his one, true love. They married and proceeded to build a life together. They longed to have a child, but pregnancy was a great health risk for Sarah. Her heart was not strong. Even so, after several months of discussion and prayer, the young couple decided to place their future totally in God’s hands. And Sarah eventually conceived, successfully presenting Duncan with one daughter, Annie Faith Montgomery.

Thanking God daily for their beautiful child, the young parents were joyful. And Duncan was especially happy when Annie grew to revere Scotland as much as he did. He shared the history and lore of the Highlands with his daughter, thrilling her with his stories. Duncan was delighted when, at the age of two, Annie could easily recognize her tartan as well as those of many other clans. He was filled with pride when, by the age of four, his daughter could flawlessly recite the genealogy of their Montgomery family.

If anyone listened carefully, they could detect a slight Scottish burr in Annie’s speech, earned by learning to talk at her doting father’s knee. The pleasing, faint brogue always intensified during the family’s annual summer visits to Kilmegan.

Barbara’s husband, Charles Ian MacLeod or Charlie to friends and family, was a wealthy investor, not as wealthy as Duncan became over the years but certainly more than comfortable. Before Barbara met Charlie, he had purchased a massive, ancient castle in need of extensive repair. Surrounded by several unkempt acres, the castle was located high on a cliff above the coastline near Kilmegan.

Charlie had a romantic soul. He confided to friends that he was intrigued by living where history surrounded a man like warm, woolen mittens on a bone-chilling, Highland night. Consequently, he was determined to make his castle livable, and he wanted the castle to be entirely restored eventually. But complete restoration was an impossibly naive and expensive dream—a dream he was not destined to complete. However, Charlie did take up residence once his ancient stronghold was habitable. And he was thrilled to bring Dorothia, his young bride, to live at Kilmegan Castle.

Unfortunately, Dorothia foolishly envisioned that her wealthy husband was taking her to live in something resembling a royal palace. She discovered instead that Charlie expected her to live in a secluded, cold, dark, damp pile of stone. Offended, she ceaselessly complained and routinely escaped to Edinburgh, Paris, or London where she could enjoy shopping and a sophisticated social life away from the castle that she despised.

Early in their marriage, despite their differences, Dorothia bore Charlie two sons, Ian and Michael. But she found motherhood interfered with her preferred lifestyle. More and more, she spent as little time as possible with her tiresome offspring and her boring husband.

Dejected and greatly disappointed, Charlie wondered why he had ever been attracted to the woman, and, gradually, he began to prefer the peace and quiet when Dorothia was gone. Meanwhile, he tried hard to lavish love on his sons to compensate for his wife’s failings. Sometimes, it was enough.

Finally, Dorothia drank too much at a party one night, crashed her car on a busy street in Edinburgh, and was killed along with the elderly couple whose vehicle she had rammed.

Ian was eight when his mother died. Michael was seven. Charlie never told the boys the details of their mother’s death, but the precocious lads discovered a newspaper account. Michael cried, but Ian stoically hid the grief he felt. Dorothia had been more a stranger than a mother, but the boys had longed for her affection.

Charlie wanted to marry again speedily, although he was not interested in seeking love this time. Dorothia had soured him on that aspect of marriage. For his second wife, he simply wanted a pleasing helpmate, someone to be a caring mother for his sons. That was when he began to consider Barbara Montgomery, who lived in Kilmegan and attended Charlie’s church in the nearby, larger town of Portree.

It was obvious that Barbara liked children. She was often surrounded by them. She was attractive, intelligent, thoughtful, and kind. She was highly regarded by the villagers in Kilmegan, and Charlie’s boys seemed fond of her.

Charlie decided that Barbara would be the perfect mother for his sons, so he set out to court her.