by Vines, Jolie
At some point, I’d be balancing a child and a career for real. Like Lochinvar was.
I needed the practice.
* * *
The school minibus rumbled to a stop on the road beyond the cottages’ puddle-filled gravel track. I stepped outside, my big umbrella protecting me from the driving autumn rain. Una, the headteacher, exited the bus, Lochinvar’s little girl behind her.
Una was a close friend to one of my aunts and had been my teacher, too. She waved, clutching the hood of her sou’wester. “Cait, are ye okay to take Isla?”
“Aye, her da called. Ready, Isla?”
Isla peered at me, but whatever resistance she might have had dissolved in the weather. She darted across the ground then dove inside my home. Una waved again and climbed back onto the empty bus.
I followed my charge.
In the lounge, Isla waited, dripping water onto the rug. “Did you say Da called?”
“He did earlier. He’s working so isn’t home yet. Ye can wait with me until he’s back.”
“Can I speak to him?”
“It could be tricky getting through. I’m sure he won’t be long.”
Isla’s mouth turned down. Oh heck, I didn’t want her to cry.
“Let’s get you out of that wet coat then ye can help me in the kitchen until it’s time to go home. Want to tell me about your first day at school?”
I eased her soggy raincoat off and hung it on a hook next to mine. Isla removed her shoes, her white knee-length socks dark with water. No words came from the little girl.
“Socks off, too. You can borrow some from me. I have some cute and fluffy ones with owls on.”
Still nothing. I darted for my bedroom and grabbed the snug socks. On my return, Isla hadn’t moved.
“Ye must’ve liked Una, aye? She was my teacher when I was a girl.”
Isla reluctantly took the socks. She drew them on, far too big but better than being chilled, then she finally opened her mouth. “Did someone die on the mountain?”
My jaw dropped, and for a moment, I couldn’t summon an answer.
“Did the man who ran the rescue die? Is that why Da has the job?” she added.
I blew out a breath and crouched to her level. “Oh, sweetie, no. That’s my uncle, and he’s just fine. Your da will be, too. He’ll be home soon and giving ye a big hug.”
The poor girl. She had a new home, school, and life to contend with. No wonder she was worrying about her father.
Where was her mother? Maybe joining them later.
I dusted my hands together. “While we wait, we’ll get dinner started. Ye can help bake cookies for after.”
Cooking was my favourite hobby and one I practiced a lot. Where I failed as a mountain woman, I excelled with a mixing bowl. Cakes and biscuits were always welcome—I only had to shoot my brothers a text and one or the other would find a reason to drive by and help themselves.
First thing was to get Isla fed. My questions on her preferences fell short, so I took out the large tray of chicken I’d be cooking for tonight and fried her up a few pieces, mixing it in with pasta, peas, tomato sauce, and topped off with cheese.
The whole time, she only watched.
But she ate. As soon as the bowl touched the island where she sat, she launched into it. I continued with the preparation for the curry I was making for the adults, trying to hide my astonishment.
When she was done, colour returned to her cheeks. She drank her glass of water, and her eyes brightened.
She’d needed feeding, that was all. Relief warmed me.
“Does your da like curry?” I asked. “I imagine he’ll be hungry when he’s finished work. Shall we save him a bowl?”
She considered the question. “He likes home-cooked food. He says that lots. He didn’t normally have time to cook when we lived on the base. Blair used to make dinner sometimes.”
“Oh? What did she make that you liked?”
Isla raised a shoulder. “Lasagne, from frozen. I wish she could’ve come here with us.”
Blair might have been Lochinvar’s girlfriend, I guessed, as Isla didn’t call her Ma. Best to leave that stone unturned, too. I went for the other question that sprang to mind.
“On the base? Was your da in the army?” Lochinvar looked the type. Some of my relatives had been military, and I knew the process-driven, serious ways it instilled.
Isla pressed her lips together then brought her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
“I’m not meant to talk about that,” she said.
I blinked, entirely curious now. “Okay. Why don’t ye help me with the cookies instead?”
Her eyes rimmed with tears, and she pressed her hand tighter.
Something was wrong here. Badly so.
I wiped my hands in my apron and approached her, sitting on the next stool. “Ye don’t have to tell me anything. Ye haven’t done anything wrong either. You’re among friends here.”
But she’d shut down once more. I made the cookies with her only watching, and for the next hour, she didn’t make a single peep.
Nor did we hear from her da.
I knew the routine and had never worried for the safety of my family out on a rescue, even in the dark with the rain pouring. They were well-practiced. Then again, Lochinvar was new to the area. If he’d strayed from the crew…
I ceased my line of thinking and concentrated on keeping my guest happy and the dinner moving on.
It was only when my guests arrived that Isla finally perked up. She stared at Casey when I introduced her, taking in her obvious baby bump along with her pretty face and American accent.
Brodie gazed at his wife in devotion while she sat beside Isla at the kitchen island, then turned to me. “Blayne willnae be long. He texted to say he’s in the car.”
“You said you had news.” Casey steepled her hands. “Don’t make us wait.”
I raised a shoulder, sliding a glance at Isla. I guessed it wouldn’t matter if she heard. “I registered with a clinic. I’m going ahead with having my own bairn.”
Casey’s eyes lit. “Oh my God! That’s the best news. How long do you have to wait?”
Excitement fizzed in me. “They have to do several tests before we agree to the mechanics of it, and they did warn me it could be a while until they have availability for my first appointment.”
Isla wrinkled her nose. “Are you married?”
“Nope. I’ll be a single mother, like you have a single father.”
“My baby will have a mom and two dads,” Casey added. “There are plenty of ways to make a happy family. Each is as good as the others.”
The little girl blinked but didn’t offer anything more. I served up dinner and put the TV on for her, but she chose to remain in the kitchen, snacking on cookies.
We’d finished our meal when an engine roared outside.
“Da!” Isla leapt down and ran for the door.
I followed, peering into the calmer evening.
Blayne climbed from his car, and Isla visibly wilted. It was past seven now, and I’d begun wondering about putting up a bed for her in the living room.
On instinct, I placed a hand on her head to reassure her. She drooped on me for a moment then returned inside. I waited for my cousin, and the huge man gave me a hug in the doorway.
But before I could invite him in, another vehicle arrived, spitting gravel under its tyres. The driver launched from the car, glowering at Blayne, his focus on my cousin’s arm over my shoulder.
Lochinvar was home, and once again, the man was furious.
5
Lochinvar
Cold to the bone, I stalked to Cait’s cottage, glaring at the man who I suspected to be her arsehole boyfriend.
“Was it ye with the paint?” I barked.
The man, several inches taller than my six-three, tilted his head. “What?”
I prided myself on being a rational man, but the events of the afternoon and evening had set me on edge. The rescue had gone fine, at f
irst. But the idiot husband of the casualty had taken it upon himself to walk to find help. He’d assumed we wouldn’t be able to find them.
He’d left their one phone with his injured wife. Then the guy had slipped and broken his leg. Worse, he’d fallen into a rocky gulley and been unable to haul himself up to a visible position.
Our easy recovery had turned into a full-service five-hour search and rescue. Cameron, the young second-in-command I’d doubted, had a dog brought in, and his team eventually located the man. With night falling, it had been the dog’s eager nose that picked up the scent. Otherwise we’d still be out there.
I was satisfied with how my first two call-outs had gone but deeply upset with myself for not being home for Isla on her first day from school. It wasn’t like me to be unprepared, yet I hadn’t been inside Cait’s home with Isla, or had the chance to make my daughter comfortable with the possibility of spending hours there while I worked.
Unwarranted annoyance broke from my control.
“You’re the boyfriend, aye? Did ye feel like the big man painting shite like that on the lass’s door? Who the fuck do ye think ye are behaving like that?”
Cait palmed the back of her neck. “No. Lochinvar, stop.”
“Why? Men dinna act like that. Boys do.” I switched my gaze to Cait. “I hope ye aren’t letting him inside with Isla in there.”
Her jaw worked, but Cait seemed lost for words. Her eyes, however, glittered with irritation.
The tall man frowned at Cait. “Did someone paint on your door? What did they write?”
I pulled up short, my anger stalling.
“Da!” Isla pushed between the two people.
I caught her in a hug, lifting her to my arms like I did when she was tiny.
“You’re cold. Are you okay?” she muttered into my neck.
“Were ye worried? Ye know I always come back.” I held her close.
Cait loomed in my vision, Isla’s coat and school bag in her extended hand. “You’re welcome, Lochinvar. Perhaps next time I babysit for ye, for free, you’ll have the good manners to thank me for it. And to not abuse my guests. Goodnight.”
She dragged the man inside and slammed the door. A moment later, as I was twisting the key in our lock, another lass poked her head out, a covered bowl in her hand. She handed it to me.
“Cait made extra for you,” she said in an American accent. “Maybe return the bowl another day when she isn’t spitting feathers about you?”
She closed the door, and I ushered Isla inside.
We set about our evening routine, and the scent from the bowl left on the kitchen table punched hunger through me. I’d snatched provisions on the hill, but a real dinner had been on my mind ever since the rescue had been concluded. I’d anticipated a frozen meal cooked in the microwave, but this had to be a thousand times better.
“Who was that other woman?” I asked Isla, poking my head into her room to find her rummaging around for pyjamas.
“That’s Casey. She’s having a baby, and the baby has two dads. One is Cait’s cousin. We made cookies. Did Cait give you one of those?”
She hadn’t, but no wonder. I dropped a heavy shoulder onto the doorframe, realisation dawning as my exhaustion set in.
I’d made an idiot of myself, jumping to conclusions.
Isla appeared by my side and peeked up at me. Our single-storey cottage was warm already, and my daughter smiled, relaxed and happy. Really, she should go straight to bed, but I sent her to the sofa while I took a two-minute shower.
When I’d dressed, hunger drove me to the kitchen. I found a spoon and took the cover off my bowl of food, exposing a still-warm chicken and vegetable curry with egg fried rice. I carried it to the sofa then tucked in.
It was all I could do to stop myself from groaning at the sheer deliciousness. My neighbour knew how to cook, and I owed her one huge apology.
Isla cuddled into my side, her gaze on the cartoon she’d lined up on the TV.
Her eyelids drooped, but I needed this moment with her, to make sure she was okay and to remind myself of the reason I’d turned our lives upside down.
“I’m sorry about today,” I told her.
My daughter yawned. “It was such fun. Brodie, one of the dads, taught me a card game. I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”
“One of the dads?” She’d said as much earlier, but it hadn’t registered.
“Two dads and one mum. When Cait has her baby, she’ll be just one mum, like I have only you.”
“Cait’s having a bairn?” Why didn’t she mention that? Or my boss, for that matter. He’d told me about his daughter, so I would’ve expected his niece to come up in the conversation, too.
It made sense that Cait was the go-to babysitting service.
But Isla’s eyes shuttered closed. I finished my last bites of the mouth-wateringly good meal and scooped up my bairn, her head lolling on my shoulder.
She needed her bed, but after all the events of the day, I didn’t think I’d rest so easily.
* * *
The following morning, I delivered Isla to school then jumped into my car. I had a later start today so would use the time to check our tracks.
I drove south for an hour, far from home if anyone could somehow trace me. In a supermarket, I picked up a cheap phone and SIM card, paying with cash. In the car park, I set it up and called a number I had long ago memorised.
After a couple of rings, a female voice answered. “Yes?”
“It’s me,” I said.
“Lochie! Finally.”
I almost sagged against the seat, the relief of hearing a familiar voice, and a much-loved one, unsettling me yet again.
“Aye, well, I couldnae get away to do this. Give me an update.”
“Little to report. A few people have asked where the two of ye have gone, but I’ve given each a different answer.”
“Who?”
Blair gave me a list of names—all parents of school friends of Isla’s. No one I’d specifically worry about.
I grunted appreciation. “Good. Thank ye.”
“Do ye have troubles in your new life?” my sister asked. Like me, she had a blunt tone, one inherited from our long-dead ma.
I briefly recalled using that voice on my gentle neighbour. The few times I’d spoken to Cait, even in her irritation, she’d been soft-edged and warm.
I didn’t know anyone like that.
Plus, she was pregnant, too, according to Isla. All the more reason to make good my apology.
Ahead, the supermarket entrance boasted bouquets of flowers in a display. Aye, that might help my case.
“Nothing worth mentioning. I’m hopeful we’ll get to see out the six-month contract.”
“And after that?”
“Somewhere else.” I’d keep moving for as long as it took.
“Ye keep that little lass safe, Lochinvar,” Blair ordered.
“I will. When do ye ship out?”
“Tomorrow. It’s going to be a long time before I see ye both again.”
“Email when ye can. I put a picture of ye in Isla’s room. She willnae forget her only family.”
“Not her only family, more’s the pity.”
“She’ll never know those fuckers,” I swore. “Not if it kills me to protect her from them.”
“I know. When I come back from deployment, I’ll be able to help again.”
My sister had already done enough. Between the two of us, we’d raised Isla, both holding service positions. Blair was made for action, like me. She’d watched her buddies be deployed while she took a base job, sharing parenting time with me.
With the fresh threat to Isla, it had only made sense for us to leave, freeing Blair to advance her career.
Isla mourned her aunt, I knew that, though at the same time, Blair had never tried to be her ma. My sister didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, as much as she loved her niece.
Maybe one day, we’d be safe and could settle. Perhaps I’d find someone
who wanted the mother role. Who’d put up with my sorry arse.
My chest ached with a flutter of regret. Never once had I been in love, aside from the instant devotion I had to Isla when she’d been born. I couldn’t regret a minute of the past six years, though. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
Everything my wife had asked.
“Stay safe,” I said to Blair.
“Exactly what I was going to say to you, brother. Kiss Isla from me, and see ye on the other side.”
* * *
Back at the cottages, Cait’s car was gone, so I left the bouquet by her door and headed off to work. Today, I was going over the training schedules before picking up Isla at four—a short day to make up for the long call-out last night.
I’d talk to my neighbour later.
One way or another, I’d make things right.
6
Cait
Along the dim interior corridor of Patterson House, a decaying college building in Inverness, I walked, my arms full of paperwork and my tablet. Rupert, my boss, had changed the location of our meeting to his private office and, despite it being mid-afternoon, disquiet hung over me.
Work was where multiple odd events had happened from the increasingly long list. My stolen coat bugged me the most. My mother had bought it for me, and it was perfectly tailored and a stunning deep purple. No one could wear that without me noticing.
Other, lesser happenings, like my lunch being taken, bothered me less. Maybe someone had made a mistake. My emails being opened before I’d had a chance to read them could’ve been a technology glitch.
Or it could be a pattern.
My nerves zipped with energy where I was giving myself the creeps. I blew out a breath and strode on.
Behind me, a clunk sounded. The windowless corridor plunged into darkness at my back. This part of the building was empty with the students away, but the motion sensors should keep the lights on.
A footstep thudded.
A glance over my shoulder revealed nothing, yet my pulse jumped.
