The House on the Shore (6 page)

Luke
close
d the door and
strod
e round to the passenger side.

The air in the confined space positively crackled with tension as they
drove back
to the croft.
Luke wondered just what he’d got himself into.
Anna
might be beautiful, but she was as unpredictable as a summer storm blowing in off the ocean.
He shifted in his seat, felt the warm breath from one of the dogs on t
he back of his neck, and froze.

Anna looked in the rear-view mir
ror.
“Ensay, no!”

The dog backed up, and lay down on the seat next to its companion.
Luke glanced over his shoulder and slowl
y let the air out of his lungs.

“Thanks for calling him off.”

“Her.
They’re bitches.”

“That figures.
”

“The dogs aren’t normally aggressive to people who appear friendly.
L
et that be a warning to you.
They a
re trained to protect
and will attack if they think I’m in danger.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty evident.
Hey, I’m sorry.
I just met
you
and you’re doing me this huge favour.
I should be appreciative,
b
ut we seem to be
at each other’s throats.
Why?”

When she didn’t answer, he turned and studied her.
Wild Titian curls framed her delicate, slightly tanned oval face.
Her green eyes were peppered with tiny flecks of gold.
Her fingers, he noted, where long and slender, and devoid of polish and rings.

The check work-shirt she wore casually tucked into her black denim jeans was open at the neck, and when she shifted in her seat, he caught a glimpse of creamy skin and black lace.
D
espite her antagonism, Luke
found himself
strongly
attracted to her.

He turned away
and stared out of the window.
A bank of clouds covered the
mountaintops
.
In the distance, the dark waters of the
loch were still and glistening.

Anna couldn’t stand the silence any more.
“Are you staying on the boat or
will you move into the hotel?”

“I’ll stay on Sandpiper.
Until I get the pump on the
autopilot
fixed, I can’t think about
returning
to Cape Cod.
I’ve got
plenty
of food on board.
The generator’s
working, so
I hav
e power for heat and hot water.
I’ll get by.
If I get bored, I can always take your advice and go for a hike.”

“Well, if you do, make sure you
wear sensible shoes
and take a waterproof jacket.”
Anna briefly transferred her gaze from the road to Luke, only to find him watching her.
He had the most intense brown eyes and every time his gaze met hers, her heart turned over in response.
Not for the first time since meeting him, did she
feel
herself blushing
.

“
The weather can change suddenly,
” she continued, “
and people have been known to get lost or disorientated, even in summer.
The nearest mountain rescue team is fifty miles away.
If you’re planning on exploring, let me know, I’ll lend you a map.”

Luke turned his smile up a notch.
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.
After being
on-board
for the last three weeks, it’ll be good to get my land legs back.”
The old Land Rover jerked to a halt.
“I know I’ve been an idiot.
I’m sorry.
And thanks for the lift.
Maybe you’ll let me buy you a drink sometime to make up for me being so stupid?”

Anna shook her head.
“
There’s no need.
Besides,
I don’
t drink with men I don’t know.”

“W
e could get to know each other first
.
”

She rubbed her forehead.
“If you need anything from the village or want a lif
t that far, just come and ask.”

He
climbed
out of the Land Rover an
d waited for Anna and the dogs.

***

From his vantage point high on the hill behind the croft, a man lifted a
pair of binoculars to his eyes
and studied the scene below.
Two people, not one, as he’d anticipated, emerged from the
vehicle
.
He focused on the figures, and wondered what they were talking about.
He didn’t need the binoculars to see that the smaller of the two was the MacDonald woman.
Even from this distance, t
he
flaming red
hair was a dead giveaway.
The other
figure
faced away from him, and although he couldn’t be
sure, he thought it was a man.

The woman remained at the croft, while the second figure strode across the grass
and
climbed
into a small inflatable dinghy. They
inserted the oars in the rowlocks, and pushed off.
He inhaled sharply as he caught a glimpse of the face.
It was unmistakably male.
Damn it!
Well, whoever he was, he wasn’t from the glen, that much was for sure.
None of the inhabitants were rich enough to own a boat like that.

He threw the binoculars to the ground in disgust, hastily snatching them up again as the man rowed steadily towards the sleek yacht.
With any luck,
it would be gone by morning, but he somehow doubted it.

The woman should have been alone.
He’d been watching her ever since she’d arrived at the croft, and her routine hardly ever varied.
He swore heartily.
Another afternoon spent lying in the heather and what had he got to show for it?
Nothing, absolutely nothing!

He pulled off his deerstalker and scratched his bald head.
He wasn’t happy about the sudden appearance of the man with the yacht.
He picked up his shotgun, slung the binoculars round his neck and slithered backwards over the heather.
Once out of sight of the croft, and using some gorse bushes for cover, he began walking slowly downhill t
o where he’d parked his pickup.

Morag’s cottage was the last in a row of
twenty
,
single-storey, brightly painted, stone cottages
that
bordered the only road through the village.
It was small and
comfortable, and Anna couldn’t envis
age Morag living anywhere else,
yet she knew that if Lachlan got his way, Morag would move to Perthshire, many miles away.
The very idea her friend would one day be gone from this wild and magical place saddened her.
Consciously tucking the thought away, she swirled a glass of red wine and watched the flames lic
k around the logs in the grate.

“Have you made a start on your book yet?”
Morag asked, breaking the silence with her soft Highland burr.

“
I
’ve done
all the research
and
had planned to write the opening
chapter
this afternoon, but I got distracted.
I’ve decided to be disciplined and set time aside each day to work on it.
But tell me, what’s been happening in the glen while I’ve been away?”

“The Laird has moved to London.
You know he owns a house there
,
too.
He’s no
w a full-time absentee landlord, a
nd I don’t need to tell you
how the Scots feel about them!”

“But I thought he came for the fishing and shooting seasons
,
and then aga
in for Christmas and New Year.”

A frown settled on Morag’s brow.
“I
t would seem that the poor man has Alzheimer’s.
Can’t even remember his name or how to tie his
bootlaces
,
or
so we’ve been told.
Rumour has it he’s living in a nursing home.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry for the Laird, it must be a terrible affliction, but the changes have us all worried.
The big house has been closed up since the ghillies’ ball last autumn.
His daughter has no involvement in the estate, not since her marriage to
some big
hotshot
banker.
She lives
in Hong Kong now, and has no intention of returning.
A
s for
Mr
.
Alistair, the son and heir
,
he’s just a playboy with his fancy cars and expensive boats.
He spends all his time in the South of France squandering the profits from the estate.
He wants nothing to do with its daily running.
You mark my words, when the old Laird dies it will be sold off to fund the son’s expensive habits.”

“So who’s managing the estate now?
What will become of the tenants if it’s sold?”

“There’s a new ghillie, or should I say
factor.
Ugly little weasel of a man who struts about as if he owns the place.
He’d have us all doffing our caps to him, given half a chance.
I can’t stand the man.
He’s always sneaking around, turning up in places you least expect.
I wouldn’t trust him to cook a kipper, let alone manage
ninety thousand
acres.
I have a feeling on me that he’s up to no good.”

Anna wanted to chuckle but fought the urge.
Something in her friend’s expression warned
her
that the situation was anything but amusing.
Besides, Morag’s feelings were famous throughout the glen, a
nd were taken seriously by the villagers
.
Like many Highlanders, Morag believed in the gift of
Dha Shealladh
, the second sight, which passed from generation to generation.
Her great-grandmother had been known as a
taibhsear
, or seer, and Morag had inherited the gift, if it could be called that, from her
.

Anna remained sceptical, but was forced to admit that Morag’s uncanny premonitions often forew
arned of some unpleasant event.

“What happened to Sandy?
I drove past his cottage, but it looked empty.
I was so looking forward to seeing him again.”

Morag’s expression grew hard and resentful.
“Oh, it was such a terrible thing.
Within a fortnight of the factor’s arrival, Sandy had handed in his notice.
One day he was here, the next he’d disappeared.
He’s worked on the estate for nigh on thirty-five years, ever since he left school.
He’s given good service to the Laird and his family.
No one knows the hill and the estate better than he does.
He not only deserves to be head ghillie, he’s earned the right.”

Anna reached for the bottle of wine and poured
Morag another glass.

“W
here
is he now?
Does anyone know?”

“Well, Anna, there’s the mystery.
Ever
yone assumed he ha
d gone to his daughter’s farm in the Borders.
Lachlan telephoned
Aileen
, but she hadn’t heard from him.
In fact, she didn’t even know her father had left his job.
That really upset me.
She obviously doesn’t speak to him very often.
I don’t know what the world’s coming to when a man’s own daughter can’t be bothered to keep in touch.
It’s wrong, I tell you.
Anyhow, before he left for the rig, Lachlan went to the cattle market in Fort William, just in case Sandy had been seen there.
He asked around, but no one had set eyes on him.
I’m worried for the man.
He has so many friends here in the glen, it’s unlike him to go off and not say a word to anyone.”

Anna stared into the fire.
The old man had been like an uncle to her.
She hated to think of him being treated badly.
When she spoke her
voice was tinged with sadness.