Susie had almost lost her life here, he remembered. And he hadn’t been here to help her.
She wouldn’t have let him near even if he had been here.
Hell.
He looked back to shore. A sea-eagle was cruising lazily over the headland. As he watched it stilled, did a long, slow loop, focussing on something below, and glided across the rocks just by him.
There was something there-a dead fish maybe-but Hamish’s presence distracted the bird. For a moment he thought the bird would plunge down, and suddenly he splashed out and yelled at it.
The bird focussed on him and started circling again. Slowly.
Still watching whatever it was on the rocks.
It’d be a dead fish, Hamish told himself. Nothing but a dead fish.
He struck out for the rocks, surfacing at every stroke to make sure the bird wasn’t coming down. Twelve, fourteen strokes, and he reached the first of the rocks. They were sharp and unwelcoming. He’d cut his feet trying to get across them.
It’d be a dead fish.
But the thought wouldn’t go away. He looked skyward and the bird was focussed just in front of him. Two or three yards across the rocks.
He hauled himself out of the water. Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
A dead fish…
It wasn’t a dead fish. It was Taffy, curled into a limp and sodden ball, half in and half out of a rock pool.
He thought she was dead. For a long moment he stared down at the sodden mat of fur, at the tail splayed out in the water, half floating. At the little head, just out of the water.
And then she moved. Just a little, as if she was finding the strength to drag herself out of the water an inch at a time.
The rocks were forgotten. His feet were forgotten. He was kneeling over her, lifting her out of the water, unable to believe she’d still be alive.
‘Taffy,’ he whispered, and her eyes opened a little. And unbelievably the disreputable tail gave the tiniest hint of a wag.
‘Taf.’ He held her close, cradling her in his arms, taking in the enormity of what had happened.
What had happened?
He looked up and the eagle was still circling. There was another bird now, swooping past, as if the two birds were disputing about who was to get lunch.
Two birds…
He looked down at Taffy and saw lacerations in her side. Deep slices. Something had picked her up…
And carried her out over the sea? And then maybe got into an argument with another bird, and the prey had been dropped.
If she’d been dropped into the white water around the rocks then maybe the birds had lost her. Maybe she’d have been left struggling in the water, to finally drag herself up here.
Only to expose herself again to the birds of prey who’d dumped her here in the first place.
Hamish was crying. Hell, he was crouched on the rock and blubbing like a baby. Taffy.
‘We’ll get you warm,’ he told the pup. ‘We’ll get you to a vet.’
But to walk over the rocks in bare feet was impossible. He was two hundred yards from the beach.
He’d have to swim.
He backed into the water, dropped down into the depths and felt Taffy’s alarm as she was immersed again. He was on his back, cradling the pup against his chest. He’d get back to the beach using a form of backstroke-backstroke with no arms? But if the pup struggled…
‘Trust me, Taf,’ she said softly, and it seemed she did. The little body went limp.
‘Don’t you dare die on me,’ Hamish told her. ‘I have such plans for us. My God, how can I have been so stupid?’
The doors closed behind her.
It was over. Susie walked past the duty-free shops and the huddles of excited travellers and she didn’t see them. Her mind was blank.
‘I’m not going to let myself get depressed again,’ she told Rosie, hugging her almost fiercely. ‘I’ve been down that road and never again. If I’d let Hamish have his way…no, I’ve fought too hard for independence to risk it all over again.’
That was the crux of the matter. Maybe she could change him. Maybe she could teach him what it was to really love.
‘Oh, but if I failed…’ she told Rose. ‘I have you to think about now, sweetheart, and I’m just not brave enough to risk everything again.’
The vet was stunned. And beaming.
‘Two deep lacerations on the right side but only scratches on the other-the bird couldn’t have got a decent grip. But there’s nothing vital damaged. We’ll run an IV line for twenty-four hours just to be on the safe side but you’ve got her warmed and dry. I see no reason why she shouldn’t live to a ripe old age.’
Hamish stood and stared at the little dog on the table and felt his knees go weak. He’d run up the cliff, wanting help, wanting to shout to the world that he’d found her. The castle had been empty.
He’d opened the oven door, lined the warm interior with towels and laid the pup in there while he’d pulled on some clothes. Then he’d offered her a little warm milk, and had been stunned when Taffy had hauled herself onto shaky legs, shrugged off her towels and scoffed the lot.
Then he’d thought that maybe he’d done the wrong thing in giving her milk-maybe she’d go into shock or something-so he’d bundled her off to the vet. To be given the good news.
‘She’s as strong as a little horse,’ Mandy, the vet, was saying. ‘Susie will be so pleased. I can go about sorting out the quarantine requirements again.’
Taffy would leave, Hamish thought blankly. Of course. Taffy was Susie’s dog.
She didn’t feel like Susie’s dog. She felt like family.
‘Can I take her home?’ he asked.
‘Back to the castle? Can you keep her still so the IV line stays in place?’
‘Sure.’
He carried her out into the morning sunshine and shook his head, trying to figure where he was.
Things had shifted. Important things.
What plane was Susie on?
He started doing arithmetic in his head. The new rules for international flights meant you had to be there three hours ahead of departure. Kirsty and Jake’s car had been overloaded, and they’d left leeway, expecting delays. If he left now…
Taffy was in a box in his hands, the IV line hooked to a bag slung over his shoulder. He’d have to rig it up carefully in the car to get her back to the castle.
He didn’t want to go back to the castle.
He’d have to find someone to care for Taffy.
He didn’t want someone else to care for Taffy. At least…not completely.
‘You haven’t found the puppy?’ It was Harriet, Dolphin Bay’s postmistress, emerging from the post office and carefully adjusting a sign on the door to read ‘Back in Five Minutes’. ‘Oh, my lord…’
‘I’m not my lord,’ he said absently. ‘I’m Hamish.’
‘You’re my lord to me,’ she said, resolute. ‘Ever since I saw you in that kilt.’ She peered into the box and her mouth dropped open in shock. ‘You’ve found her,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, my lord. Where was she?’
‘An eagle had her,’ he said, but he was moving forward. ‘Harriet, see that sign?’
‘The sign?’ She turned back to where she’d written Back in Five Minutes. ‘Yes?’
‘Can you make it five hours?’
She looked at him as if he was crazy. ‘Of course I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he said encouragingly. ‘I’m your liege lord. You just said it. My wish is your command. Harriet, I command you to change the sign, hop into the front of the car and cuddle Taffy.’
‘Why?’
‘Your liege lord needs his fair lady.’
‘Flight 249 to Los Angeles is delayed by sixty minutes. We wish to apologise for…’
‘Fine,’ Susie said to Rose, and glowered at the screen. ‘Let’s go buy some duty-free perfume. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?’
‘No,’ said Rose.
‘What do you mean, s
he can’t come in?’
‘Sorry, mate, dogs are forbidden in airport premises.’ Hamish had parked the car in the multi-storey car park and they were now at the airport doors. Hamish was carrying Taffy’s box and Harriet was carrying the IV line.
‘You can’t go any further,’ the man said, and Harriet sniffed, knowing what was coming.
‘Harriet…’
‘You’re going to ask me to sit in the car with Taffy,’ she said darkly. ‘Just when it gets interesting.’
‘Harriet…’
‘Don’t mind me.’ She sighed, her bosom heaving with virtuous indignation. ‘I’m just the peasantry.’ Then she grinned. ‘Go on with you,’ she told him. ‘But I’m not staying in the car. I’ll just sit on the doorstep here and watch the comings and goings. Taffy and me will like that.’
‘You can’t stay here,’ the security officer told her, and she puffed up like an indignant rooster ready to crow.
‘There’s a sign saying I can’t come in with dog,’ she said. ‘But there’s no sign saying I can’t look in with dog. That’s just what I’m doing.’
And she sat on the rack holding the luggage carts in place. She slung the IV bag over her shoulder, she took Taffy’s box into her arms and she smiled.
‘What are you waiting for?’ she demanded. ‘Go fetch who you need to fetch.’
Her flight had been delayed. Oh, thank God, there was sixty minutes’ grace. But even then it wasn’t easy. There was the little matter of the metal doors at passport control.
‘You can’t come through,’ he was told. ‘Not unless you’re a traveller.’
‘I’m a traveller.’ He hauled his passport from his wallet and displayed it. ‘I’m from the US.’
‘You need to be booked on a plane today. You need seat allocation before you can get through.’
They were adamant.
‘We can get a message to whoever you want to see,’ he was told. ‘But if they come out they’ll have to go through security again. No one will be happy.’
Maybe she wouldn’t come out, he thought. Maybe a message wouldn’t work.
He took his wallet over to American Airlines. ‘I have a ticket two days from now,’ he told them. ‘Any chance of swapping it for today?’
‘The flight’s fully booked,’ he was told. The girl behind the counter eyed him dubiously, and he thought that even if he had been booked there might be trouble. He’d dragged on jeans, a windcheater and trainers but he hadn’t shaved that morning and he’d come straight from the beach.
And he knew he looked desperate.
Hell.
The gates stayed shut. She’d be through there, sitting, miserable, maybe crying…
He stared at the screen. There was Susie’s flight, leaving in forty-five minutes. Any minute now they’d start boarding.
The flight straight after that was to New Zealand.
Susie’s flight was from Gate 10.
The New Zealand flight was from Gate 11.
Act cool, he told himself, trying frantically to be sensible. If you launch yourself at the counter and act desperate, they’ll drag you off as a security risk.
So he sped into the washroom, washed his face, bought a comb and a razor from the dispenser and spent precious minutes transforming himself from a beach bum with hair full of sand to someone who might board an international flight with business in mind. Casual but cool.
He stared at himself in the mirror. What was missing?
Ha! Five more precious minutes were spent buying a briefcase and a couple of books to bulk it up.
Then a walk briskly to the Air New Zealand counter, feeling sick with tension and with the effort not to show it. ‘Any chance of getting onto the flight this afternoon? I only have hand luggage. I’m booked for a US flight in two days but I’ve finished what I need to do here and could usefully see some of my people in Auckland.’
His authoritative tone worked. The girl looked him up and down-and smiled. ‘Do you have a visa?’
He did. The work he did required travel at a moment’s notice and he always had documentation.
‘There’s only economy available,’ she said, and he almost grinned. What value a comb?
‘Thank you.’
Which way was New Zealand?
Why would she want to buy perfume?
‘Let’s have a look at duty-free cigarettes.’
‘You don’t smoke,’ she told herself.
‘I might. If I get desperate enough.’
‘Are you all right, madam?’ an assistant asked, and she blushed.
‘Um…yes. Just telling my daughter about the evils of smoking.’
Hell, why was security taking so long? The line stretched forever.
‘Passengers for Air New Zealand, please come through the priority line.’
Thank God for that. But when he was through…
‘They’re boarding already. If you’d like to board the cart we’ll get you straight to the boarding gate.’
Fine. But he was jumping off early.
She wasn’t in the departure lounge.
Where was she?
‘This is the final boarding call for Flight 723 to Auckland…’
Where was she?
‘Pardon me, sir, your flight is ready for boarding. You need to come this way.’
‘Not until I find who I’m looking for!’
There was a commotion down near her boarding gate. Shouting. Beefy security men, running.
Then a couple of burly giants escorting someone back toward the entrance area.
Susie glanced up from her rows of Havana cigars…
Hamish.
‘Excuse me,’ she said faintly, stepping out into their path. ‘Where are you taking him?’
‘Security,’ one of the guards said brusquely. ‘Step aside, ma’am.’
She was holding a box of Havana cigars in one hand, Rose in the other. She dropped the cigars.
With huge difficulty she managed to hold on to Rose.
‘You can’t take him away,’ she said faintly. ‘He’s mine.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘SO YOU see, you need to come home.’
They weren’t going anywhere right now. The chief of airport security had raised his eyebrows, shrugged and shown Hamish, Susie and Rose into his office, closing the door on three trouble-makers.
‘Take her baggage off the plane,’ he growled to his staff as he left them to it. ‘American Airlines is already boarding. She’s officially missed the plane and if she objects I’ll have them booked for nuisance. Or something.’
But there was no way she’d object. The security head was smiling as he closed the office door behind them-and he just happened to nudge a wastepaper bin full of crumpled paper in Rose’s direction. He had kids himself and he knew what was needed here was a bit of distraction so the adults of the party could sort themselves out.
Rose obliged. She immediately started emptying the trash, paper by paper, perusing the security memos of the day with all seriousness, then ripping them into tatters, more thoroughly than any shredder.
Hamish wasn’t reading anything. He was holding every part of Susie he could reach.
‘But I still don’t understand,’ she whispered when she could finally find room to speak. She’d just been very thoroughly kissed. She was snuggled against him and he smelt of the sea. He tasted of the sea. Her Hamish. ‘Just because you found Taffy…’
‘I cried when I found Taffy,’ he told her. ‘It felt right. And then the thought of sending Taffy to you in America felt wrong.’
‘So you’re saying…?’
‘I want to marry you. I want to marry you more than anything else in the world.’ Then he hesitated. ‘No. That needs improvement. I already asked you to marry me and you very rightly threw it back in my face. But it’s different this time. It’s more than just the love thing. Susie, I want us to be a family more than anything else in the world.
‘Which means?’
‘Reorganisin
g,’ he said bluntly. ‘Not taking you back to my life. Not being part of your life. Making a new life for all of us where all the pieces fit in a new whole. Where all of us are a part of it.’
‘Just because of Taffy,’ she whispered, awed.
‘Just because of you,’ he told her. ‘When I found Taffy, I thought how fantastic it was that I’d found her, and then I thought that I’d found our dog but I’d lost the most important person in the world. Here I was, crying about a pup when my life was gone. And I suddenly realised why you cried-and why you stopped crying. You must love me. You must. Please, Susie…’
‘Of course I love you,’ she said, and tried to smile. ‘How could I not love those knees?’
‘A woman with taste.’
She silenced him with a kiss, and the kiss lasted deeply and satisfactorily through the shredding of at least ten more security memos.
It was a kiss where all questions were answered. Where there was no need for words.
It was a kiss where two people found their home.
‘The first time I asked you to marry me I was dumb,’ Hamish whispered at last, when he could finally find the space to get the words out. She was cradled on his knees and he was holding her as if he’d never let her go. ‘But, Susie, I swear this is different.’
‘I know it’s different,’ she said scornfully. ‘You think I’m dumb?’
‘I’d never think you’re dumb.’
‘You don’t mind that I’ve been married before?’
He answered that with another kiss. ‘You don’t mind that I almost married Marcia?’
‘No, but this is different, too,’ she said, trying to be serious. ‘Marcia and you…you weren’t really engaged. But I did love Rory. I never thought I could love again, but his love, this love…it’s just…’
‘This is a love for who you are now,’ he said, hugging her tight while the world steadied on its axis. ‘Are you worried that I’ll be jealous of Rory? That I’ll make you put away his photographs? Hell, Susie, Rory’s part of my family and I need all the family I can get.’
‘No, but-’
‘Rory is part of who you are,’ he told her, refusing to be interrupted. ‘He loved you and he cared for you and how can I ever be anything but grateful that he found you out in the wide world and brought you into the Douglas clan?’
The Heir’s Chosen Bride Page 18
