by Vines, Jolie
Also long before they could realistically know they were in love.
Huh.
I listened carefully to his words.
With an upbeat tune, Leo sang about how every degree of love he felt tore into him. Shredded his insides. Broke his heart and made it new. All in stages until he’d changed so much he could never go back.
Without knowing, Leo’s words described the ache in my chest.
He continued, pressing home my realisation.
My feelings had come on gradually, until the night Lochinvar had gone missing when they became unbearable. Crippled me.
I’d thought it pain at what I couldn’t have, built of regret and unhappiness. But maybe it had been transformational.
Had I been entirely wrong?
Leo finished to a ripple of applause, then started another song, a swoony ballad.
Viola squeezed my fingers then picked her way across the stage, joining her man. I removed myself to a seat in the front row of the audience section and let the music and the events of the past few months wash over me.
To the backdrop of Leo’s romantic tune, I pondered my life.
Fact: I definitely wasn’t asexual. I loved sex with Lochie.
That was an easy assessment to make. Next, on to the feelings thing.
Aye, I had those, too. New, and bright, and all-encompassing. They scared the ever-loving hell out of me.
My natural reaction was to duck the honesty. In all other areas of my life, I demanded it, but I’d avoided strong emotion like the plague.
A person landed in the seat next to mine.
I glanced around, vaguely recognising the huge, muscled man in a black, tight t-shirt as one of Gordain’s staff. A memory popped up of him removing the crazy fan from Leo’s Inverness rehearsal. He’d thrown the woman over his shoulder, supplying me with a neat fantasy to try with Lochie.
“Craig.” He offered a hand. “Are you a friend of Leo’s missus?”
“I’m Cait, and yes, you could say that.” I shook his fingers to be polite.
“Here for long?” he asked. At my answer, he swept a subtle gaze over me, pupils dilating, then proceeded to tell me a story about the tour.
In a practised move, as he spoke, Craig slipped an arm across the back of my seat.
“Want to hang with me backstage after the gig? I’ll get you a pass.”
Amusement bubbled inside me as, for the first time, I was about to turn down an interested man because I had someone else. Not because I wasn’t interested, not because I didn’t do relationships.
Gently, I removed his wayward arm and gave a shrug. “I’m just here to see my family. Sorry, but I need to make a call. Do ye mind?”
Craig gave a rueful smile but lumbered to his feet and wandered away.
With energy flickering inside me, I found my phone and called my father. “Da, this is going to sound random, but I need to ask ye something.”
“Go for it,” he said.
“As far back as I can remember, Aunt Georgia told me I was different because of what my birth mother did, and that I needed to be aware of it so I understood myself.”
Da grumbled, but I pushed on.
“Ye know I’ve never been interested in boyfriends. Georgia said that I had problems depending on people. That the initial broken connection had affected me my entire life and caused so much damage. But what if she was wrong?”
Da burst in, his restraint failing. “Of course she’s wrong. When I first met ye, ye were a month old and so bonnie. We never had any problem bonding. Nor did ye with your ma, brothers, cousins, and everyone else ye care about. Georgia is passing on her grief at losing Kaylee to ye. She relives it every time she sees ye, and the woman is stuck. That reflects on her, not ye.”
“There could be some truth in it, though. I think I’ve been carrying around grief for Kaylee. Not just the fact I never knew her, but pity, too. She lost out on life and on knowing her baby. It’s so terribly sad.”
“It is. She was a bonnie woman. She’d have loved ye hard.”
I adored my father. He said it like it was, without trying to rationalise or minimise the emotion.
My next statement nearly choked me. “I’m pretty sure that grief meant I protected my heart.”
He paused. “I’m not convinced. I just assumed ye needed to find someone special. Is there something ye want to tell me?”
I laughed. “Don’t pretend to be surprised, but I’ve been seeing Lochinvar.”
“Scarlet told me. He suits ye well.”
Warmth spread through my veins. Da always encouraged me to be open with how I found the world, so there was little he didn’t know about me.
“Do ye really think so?”
“He’s hard-working, humble, stubborn, and a great da. Do ye plan to keep him?”
“I…”
“I’ll talk to your uncle about his job,” Da continued. “If Lochinvar’s going to stick around, he cannae remain on a temporary contract. Leave that with me.”
“What if he doesn’t want to stay?” I spluttered.
“Why don’t ye ask him? Ah, your mother wants me. Got to go.”
My father hung up, leaving me reeling.
A message appeared on my screen. My pulse sped.
Lochie: In case my yelling at ye wasn’t clear, I’m obsessed with ye, too. Please come back to me.
Oh God.
Leo’s second song ended, and a stage hand approached him with questions. Viola returned to me, her expression blissful.
“Ye look happy,” she said.
“I am. Or I could be. I’ve been doing some soul-searching.”
“What did ye discover?”
“I think I’m in love with Lochie.”
Viola’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shite. I thought you’d say ye were falling. Come here.” She hugged me, her baby bump between us.
I chuckled, buoyant, though my head still spun from the revelation. Admitting how I felt was only a tiny piece of the puzzle. “I was scared. I still am. He might leave.”
“He might not.”
Excitement fizzed.
Gordain strode to us, his eyebrows joined in a frown and his lips pressed together. “Your da,” he pointed at me, “just told me my management of the rescue service is terrible and the entire crew will quit if I take over again.”
I burst out laughing.
“I take it this is an unsubtle hint for me to extend Lochinvar’s term?”
My mirth sobered. “Is that possible?”
His frown only deepened. “I’ve already considered it. There’ll be more tours, and I cannae commit the time the mountain rescue service needs. I’m naw sure he wanted anything permanent, though, so we havenae discussed it.”
I grabbed my uncle’s hand. “Ask him. Please.”
He tilted his head, assessing me in the same way he did a particularly rowdy crowd. Then he nodded once and took up his phone and placed a call.
“Answerphone,” he said to us, then cleared his throat. “Lochinvar, I need to talk to ye. If you’re willing, I’d like ye to keep the management of the mountain rescue service. Call me back and let’s make it permanent.”
Taking up my own phone, I tapped out a reply to Lochie myself.
Caitriona: I’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll talk then. You were right about everything.
I hugged myself, wading through a mire with one side happiness and the other anxious despair. All I could do now was wait.
29
Lochie
Across the utilitarian prison visiting room, my ex-wife advanced. Gaunt, she winced as she lowered herself to sitting.
Her gaze stuck to the table.
I’d last seen her several years ago, when she’d only been inside a short time. The difference between my energetic friend and this lass startled me, and I could only stare. Prison had ravaged Liv. I barely recognised her.
“Do ye have any money?” she asked. “You’re allowed to give me twenty quid.”
“A
lready organised with the office,” I murmured. “It’s good to see ye.”
She bobbed her head, still not looking at me. “I’m in on my own now.”
It took a second for me to work out what she meant. The mindset of being jailed was entirely alien, though I’d thought about it from time to time. “Your own cell? That’s good.”
Liv raised a shoulder.
“Our lass is thriving,” I said fast, because I knew this would hurt.
I hadn’t told Caitriona, but Liv had rejected Isla at birth, refusing to hold her. At the time, I’d hated it, but I understood, too.
Life had been a tragedy for Liv from beginning to present day. Isla was just another part of that. I’d sent pictures and updates, but Liv had never asked a single question.
It gave me greater reason to love Isla, as no one else did.
She didn’t respond, so I pressed on.
“Your brothers are out of jail. I need to know if they’ll come after us.”
Finally, Liv raised her head. “They havenae been here. Even if they tried, I wouldnae see them.”
“I need to know how much of a threat they are to Isla.”
Liv frowned, then jerked a thin shoulder. “I cannae say.”
“Do they write to ye? Email? Telephone?”
“No.”
“What about her birth father?”
“You’re her da. No one else wanted her but ye.”
Exasperated, I dug my fingers into my hair. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. At least I knew Liv hadn’t been contacted, but that didn’t help me understand if they were hunting us.
“When ye came to me, pregnant and scared, ye said they’d take the bairn. Ye put the fear of God into me over her safety.”
A smile curved Liv’s mouth. “I bet you’ve moved mountains to look after her. No man would have done more. Do ye have a wife? A mother for her?”
“No.” To say I wanted a specific woman for that role would be unkind.
“Get one. Settle down and stop this panic. Ye always took things to an extreme.” She stood, her hands on the table. “I’m tired. I have things to do. Are ye sure ye left that money?”
I jumped up. “I did. Wait.”
She kept moving through the seats. “Dinna come back here.”
A guard buzzed the door to let her out. I could do nothing but watch her go.
Outside, I retrieved my phone and keys from the prison locker. A text message waited from Caitriona. Ah Christ, even the sight of her name boosted me from the low of the visit. Then her words warmed me further. She said I was right about everything, and she’d be back tomorrow. Fuck, that couldn’t come soon enough.
A missed call and voicemail also waited, from Gordain.
I listened to it as I returned to the car.
He offered me the job as head of the rescue service permanently.
Killing the call, I slid into my seat and stared into space. I’d gone from extreme worry about Liv’s family to…what? Confusion, as a minimum.
Had she used my protective instincts to safeguard her bairn?
Had she even been at risk, or just playing me in the way she knew how? My mother’s flight from Da when we were kids was no secret. My protector status had been prominent even at school.
Liv had loved me as a teenager. She hadn’t said as much, but I knew the moment I told her I was signing up to the RAF. She went missing not long after.
Now, she still faced extensive prison time. I’d asked after her sentence, and she had years to serve.
I pieced through all I knew. I’d taken Liv in without hesitation. Married her to give the bairn my name and protection. I’d raised Isla on a military base then moved her on the moment I feared for her safety.
Had it all been for nothing?
No. I’d never regret anything to do with Isla.
If no one was chasing us… That meant so much. But I couldn’t be sure of anything until I’d had those words from Liv’s family.
I drove an hour north then, in a lay-by, grabbed the burner phone and readied it to send an email to Blair.
One from her loaded as I started to type.
Lochie, someone has been sniffing around your old base. Unknown male. Be aware.
Then my personal phone blared with an incoming call.
Isla’s school.
My heart pounded, and I snatched the phone, answering it.
“Mr Ross,” the kindly voice said. “I’m calling to check the collection arrangements for Isla today. We have a person waiting to take her home, but they aren’t on your list.”
I rubbed my eyes. “They should be. Mathilda McRae, aye?”
“This is a gentleman, hence the call. Ye only have Cait and Mathilda preapproved. He doesnae have the password.”
My blood chilled. “Who?”
“A Mr McRae. I must admit, I dinna know this young man, and there I was thinking I knew all the McRae boys.”
A warning sounded in my mind, and sickness shrank my stomach. “First name?”
The school receptionist put her hand over the receiver and asked the question.
The man’s faint voice made it to me. He had a Scottish accent, but something wasn’t quite right.
“He says he’s Ed McRae,” the woman replied.
Ice slunk into my veins. There was no one of that name on the estate. Caitriona had gone through all her relatives. No Ed or Edward came up.
“What does he look like?”
“Early twenties, fair. Excuse me? Hold up a moment.” She switched to addressing the stranger.
A thump sounded. Then a yell.
Fear spiked, and I smacked the steering wheel with the flat of my hand. “Do not let her go with him. Whatever ye do, Isla cannae leave with this person.”
After a moment, the woman came back on the line. Her voice quivered. “He forced the door.”
“What? Go after him.”
“No, no. It held. He’s gone, taken off at a run. Who is he? What shall I do?”
Gone didn’t mean fled. He could be checking the other exits, or for a window to smash. Fuck! “Call the police. Keep Isla safe. I’ll make arrangements and call ye back.”
I hung up, panicked, and searched my mind for a solution. A stranger was at my daughter’s school. They’d used a fake name.
I dialled Cameron, speaking before he’d even greeted me. “I need your help. Isla’s in danger.”
“Tell me what to do.”
I explained the situation, my fucking voice shaking. “I need ye to go with Mathilda to the school to pick up my daughter, then take her to the castle and stay with her until I get there. I’m hours away but I’m coming.”
“On it. Hang on, I’m with Ally.” Cameron stated the issue in short sentences then came back on the line. “Ally’s calling Mathilda now. Callum is home. He’ll take her there, and we’ll meet her. Leave this with us.”
Relief permeated my fear, but what a time to rely on my new friends.
I’d been complacent five minutes ago, but now could only see a potential abduction attempt.
My phone buzzed as I gunned the engine, and I answered the call on loudspeaker, pulling out of the lay-by.
Gordain’s voice came down the line. “Lochinvar. Did ye get my message?”
“I cannae talk now,” I barked.
“Fine man, call me back and let me know if ye want the job.”
Fuck. I couldn’t. Not with a direct attack underway. Like stretched elastic, I snapped straight back to my original plan.
“I cannae. I need to take my daughter and leave tonight. I’ll talk to ye about my replacement later.”
“Lochinvar,” he started.
I killed the call, all my concentration on getting home.
We had no choice now. The moment I got back and had Isla in my protection, we had to go.
30
Caitriona
On the plane, I frayed the hem of my skirt, the flight endless and my patience at breaking point.
Someone h
ad tried to take Isla.
Lochie, not that he’d answered my calls, must be distraught.
I flexed my fingers, interlacing them and testing my strength. My only hope was that he wouldn’t have left before I got home. Please, Lochie. Wait for me.
We touched down, and I panicked all the way through arrivals until I got back to my car in the isolated car park. Then I sped into the pitch-black night, out into the Inverness countryside, heading home.
At the cottages, Lochie’s car had gone.
No one answered the door.
“Shite.” I grabbed my phone and called him, though with little hope of getting an answer.
Around, the yawning hillside and glen stared back at me. I had the acute sensation of being watched.
Then the call connected.
“Caitriona.” Lochie’s deep voice was pitched so low, stress plain.
“Where are ye?” I breathed.
“Castle McRae. Where are ye?”
I flew back to the car. “Be there in ten.”
I drove badly, skidding on the ice that had formed under the snow. Finally, I reached the castle.
My uncle generally locked the huge entrance door overnight. Not for fear of anyone coming in, but for good practice. I stood outside and hesitated before knocking.
Almost silently, it opened.
Lochie waited on the other side. Outlined by orange light from the great hall’s huge always-burning fire, he gazed down at me, his eyes dark and his expression unreadable. Then he gestured with his head for me to come inside.
I did, hugging my arms to myself for want of being able to throw myself at this man. For all I knew, he was packed and ready to leave in the morning.
I’d pushed him away. I only had myself to blame.
Lochie secured the door then made for the stairs, a glance back indicating I should follow him. We crept through the silent castle, up the first flight of stairs and to a guest room.
Lochie entered, and I trailed in after.
On a bed, Isla slept, her golden curls spread out across the pillow. I clasped my hands to my mouth to hide my sob and, without thinking, went straight to her, climbing onto the mattress. She turned into my body, and I hugged the small girl to me.
I stroked her hair and whispered to her sleeping form that I was home.
