by Kam McKellar
"Aye. She is." Ross tossed the ax onto the grass, grabbed a water bottle, bent over, and dumped the contents over his head to wash away the sweat and grit. He picked up a towel and wiped his face dry.
"Who is she?" Hamish snagged a water bottle for himself and took a long drink.
"A mistake. Ye want me to help unload?"
"Dev will be there ta help me." Hamish glanced at his watch. "Will get back earlier than I told him." He sat on the massive trunk of the felled tree. "Ye'll pay for that later." He gestured to the pile of wood in the truck. "Must pace yerself, Ross. Never seen a lad cut so fast..." He paused to take another gulp. "She's American."
"Aye, Hamish." Ross sat down with a sigh. When Hamish wanted to talk, there was no evading the conversation. The only thing he could do was get it over with. Of course, he could just walk away or tell the old man it was none of his bloody business, but Ross didn't have it in him. Not where Hamish was concerned. That old man loved him like a son. Ever since Ross' father had died, Hamish and his wife Fran had done all that they could to help him and his family.
"Ye met her when yer mum took ye and Liam away."
Ross nodded, rested his elbow on his knees, and prepared to go back in time. And he was going to make it the shortest trip in history, if he could help it. "Aye. When mum fell for Whitney Dean. Harper . . . She's his daughter."
Hamish blinked in surprise, immediately seeing the drama in that statement. "Ye were what? Eighteen?"
"Turned eighteen a few days after we got to Kentucky. Harper was a year younger."
"I see. And now she's back. What'd ye figure she wants from ye?"
"Have no idea. It ended . . . badly."
"Aye, I remember when ye came back here angry and sullen. Ye've been brooding ever since."
Ross let out a snort.
"Tis true."
"I grew up, Hamish. That's all. And I'm done with Harper Dean. I was done with her twelve years ago." Hamish lifted a bushy red eyebrow, telling Ross he thought otherwise.
"Ye were awfully rude to the lass."
That statement hung in the air, making Ross feel more of an ass than ever. He couldn't deny it. All he could do was nod.
"Curious thing..." Hamish drifted off, leaving the rest of his thoughts unsaid, wanting Ross to ask.
"What, Hamish?"
"I'm not so sure she knows she hurt ye back then, Ross. Lass seemed surprised, shocked even, by yer words and welcome."
"Don't let her fool you. She's a brat who takes what she wants without regard to anyone else but herself."
Hamish said nothing to that, just hummed under his breath as though considering. He drained the rest of the water from his bottle and stood. "Thanks for yer help, lad. Ye'll be coming ta Jamie and Riley's engagement party tonight?"
Ross stretched. Already his muscle were tightening up. "Aye. Someone will have to keep an eye on my brother."
Hamish let out a low chuckle. "Riley's friends arrived from the States. They're staying in the cottage behind the castle. Lad's in heaven. Been loitering around so much, doing odd jobs for me and Fran, just ta get a look at them. Never seen the lad work so hard in me life."
Typical Liam.
Ross said goodbye to Hamish and waited until he was in his truck and driving down the driveway before heading into the house, wiping his face with the end of his shirt as he walked.
It was a long time ago, what happened with Harper. He'd been a lad. Young. Foolish. Believing there could be a happy ending. Believing in her. As a grown man, he should put it behind him, stop holding a grudge. Act like he didn't care.
It burned that he cared at all, that after all this time Harper could still make him crazy.
Ross let the back door slam and headed for the shower, forcing all thoughts of Harper in her tight shirt from his mind.
CHAPTER THREE
Harper stood by the window in her room and watched Hamish's beat up old truck pull around to a shed. Ian, Lucy's husband, and another man strode across the lawn to help Hamish unload the wood.
She sighed. Today had been a total disaster.
Harper moved away from the window and laid on the bed, wondering why the hell she ever thought Ross would listen, much less agree to her proposal. She stared at the ceiling, offering a silent apology to her father.
She couldn't help but hear his voice in her head near the end, telling her of his time with Mary MacLaren, things Harper had never known about. Like working with Mary to formulate a new yeast recipe based upon their shared knowledge. He'd claimed it would revolutionize Dean's, take them to a whole new stratosphere...
Then he and Mary had parted ways. Harper still wasn't sure what happened to break them up. But it had been sudden and quick. Mary, Liam, and Ross were gone. Four years later, word had reached them that Mary had passed away.
And exactly four months ago, Whitney Dean also passed away. Her father, the only immediate family she had left, was gone. Before he died, he'd told her that when Mary left him, she'd taken all their notes and the yeast recipe with her. He wanted Harper to find it. And while she wanted to help, she'd been honest with her dad. No matter if she found the notebook with the recipe, it likely wouldn't matter. By the time she had the whisky made, not to mention the aging process, it'd be years.
Dean's didn't have years. The company would be long gone by then. But her father had insisted. He'd had such hope, such belief... said even if Dean's went under, it would serve her in the future, allow her to start fresh.
So she'd promised him. And Deans kept their promises.
Obviously, Ross hadn't used the recipe. God only knew what exactly he was doing for income, but it sure as hell wasn't brewing. The recipe was probably gathering dust in the attic. And he had no right to keep her from it. It was part of her father's work as well.
For Harper, this had become a mission to do one last thing for her father, to save something important to him, to have one last thing of his to remember him by.
Her determination returning, she rolled off the bed and got ready for the party Hamish had invited her to. Fran had also extended an invite, as well as Riley, whom she met in the conservatory as Riley, Lucy, and their cousin, Kate, were busy decorating for Riley's engagement party. Harper had declined, but then they'd told her all the guests at the estate were invited—a casual party, it was, so she'd said she'd agree to go for a bit.
It'd be a good time to chat with Hamish, as difficult as it was to understand his thick Scottish brogue. The more she could find out about Ross the better. Apparently, the annoying Scot held her accountable for what happened between them, and that was something Harper was determined to rectify. Hell if she'd take the blame for his leaving her.
Maybe once she got what she was after, she'd actually enjoy the castle, the history of it all, the amazing landscape, and the gorgeous loch. But right now, all she wanted was the recipe.
After a quick shower and change, she let her hair air dry, chose a pretty summer dress with a fitted taupe lining and an over layer of white lace. It hugged her body down to her waist and then flowed freely to just above her knee. She loved the dress. It was understated and sexy and romantic all at the same time, and went well with her coloring.
Once her hair was dry, she left it wavy and loose, then applied her usual make-up, did a quick check in the mirror, and headed downstairs. With each step down she regrouped, focusing on the job at hand and how she was going to get Ross to cooperate. She was so focused, that she nearly collided with someone at the bottom of the stairs.
"Whoa. Careful there, lass," a deep voice said as hands came around her arms to steady her.
Harper tossed her hair from her eyes and apologized, her jaw going slack. "Oh my God. Liam?"
A confused look crossed his handsome face, then light dawned in his blue eyes. "Bloody hell. Harper?"
A laugh flew from her lips. "You were... And now you're," her eyes traveled the length of him and then met those sparkling eyes once again. "Wow. All grown up."
One corner of his mouth lifted into a smug, all-male grin. He spun around slowly so she could see all of him and Harper laughed, rolling her eyes. "You always were a goofball."
Liam grabbed his heart and winced. "I always had potential, you mean. Great," he wiggled his eyebrows at her, "great potential."
"Uh huh." Liam had been fourteen years old the last time she saw him. Now he was a man of twenty-six. A glorious man, she had to admit. No wonder he was full of himself. But, man was it good to see him. She felt it all the way to her toes. And what really got to her was that he seemed as genuinely happy to see her as she was to see him. Tears rose to her eyes.
Liam shook his head and pulled her into his arms. "Why is it I always make the lasses cry?"
She laughed against his shoulder. "It's good to see you, Liam." She drew back as he linked his fingers behind her back, not letting her go.
"You know, I always fancied you, Harper. Even as a lad. All that wavy hair, like a halo around your head, like an angel you were. Now look at you." He took his turn taking her in and let out a soft breath of appreciation.
"Are you hitting on me Liam MacLaren?" she asked, unable to hide her grin.
"Oh, never ye mind him," Fran quipped, walking past with a tray of drinks. "He hits on everything,"
Liam released her. "I get no respect." He held out his arm and Harper took it, letting him lead her to the conservatory. "So I'm assuming you saw Ross. How did it go?"
Where to start? "Well, he's got a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. He blames me for something—who knows what. And, no offense, but he's the most frustrating, jerk of man I've ever known."
They rounded the corner only to come face to face with said jerk.
Harper's stomach flipped, her knees going weak. Liam kept a tight hold on her arm. "Speak of the ... jerk," Liam said with a full on grin. "And out of his dark hole of misery, too. How goes it, bro?"
A flat look crossed Ross' face. "Funny."
"I try." He glanced down at Harper. "Look who I found. Our beautiful, all grown up, Harper."
"Our Harper," Ross repeated dryly.
"Hmm. You're right. My Harper is better. I'm already half in love with her." He smiled at her, his eyes going to the cleavage she was sporting. It was nice cleavage, too, if she did say so herself. Harper lifted a brow. He winked. "Come along my dear. I'll be your personal tour guide for the night. Won't leave your side for a second."
Liam walked her away. Once they were out of ear shot, Harper said, "You're terrible, Liam." The dark, irritating expression that had come over Ross' face at Liam's antics was incredibly gratifying. "I approve."
"Love tormenting the poor bastard."
"Well, dangling me in front of him is pretty useless; he could care less, you know."
"Oh, I don't know... You were the one who got away, the one who broke his heart—not happy with you for hurting him, by the way," he added with a frown as though suddenly remembering he was supposed to be on Ross' side.
Harper stopped. "Wait a dang minute. He broke my heart. He used me and left me, Liam. He is not the poor bastard in this scenario."
Liam's brows drew together in a genuine frown. His smile died. "I'm all ears, but how about a drink first?"
Once he secured drinks, they moved to a corner to watch the festivities. It was a nice gathering. Music, drink, food, laughter. Very casual, just as Riley had said it'd be. Riley's soon-to-be hubby Jamie was yet another prime example of MacLaren hotness. Truly, had to be something in the Highland water, she thought as her gaze drifted from Jamie to a man with a baby snuggled against his chest. He swayed to the music and patted the baby's bottom. Her chest went all funny. It was the cutest thing. The guy was hot already, but that just launched him into another stratosphere. She was pretty sure, due to the resemblance, that she was ogling Devin, the third MacLaren brother/owner of Balmorie Estate. Kate came up to him, put her hand on his hip and kissed the baby's head. Yeah, Kate was a lucky woman.
And since when did she go all weak in the knees for men with kids anyway?
"Harper?"
"What?"
"I was asking about this misunderstanding between you and my brother."
"Oh right." While she didn't want to go into intimate details of what occurred with Ross, she quickly told Liam about the sudden departure and the fact that Ross never even said goodbye. "I didn't even know my dad and your mother split up. One night Ross is telling me—" the words stuck in her throat. "Anyway, the next you all are gone. No goodbye, no note, no sorry for..."
Harper took a drink to steady her emotions. Just talking about it was hard, but if he could see her side of things maybe he could help her. In fact, Liam might be the answer to her prayers. "Can we go some place more private to talk?" she asked as his brow lifted slowly and a grin grew. "Oh geez, Liam. Get your mind out of the gutter. I just want to talk."
A disappointed sigh escaped his lips. "Fine."
They went through the conservatory and onto to the stone patio. It was a warm evening, the sun nearly gone over the green hills that framed one side of the loch. Harper breathed in deeply, loving the country air. Missing home, but finding Scotland was more beautiful than she remembered. A small part of her had dreamed of coming here with Ross, that they'd somehow overcome their parents' marriage, run away together... Silly dreams.
Liam rested his hip against the stone wall that wrapped around the patio. "So. What really brings you to Balmorie, Harper? Please don't tell me you have a love child by my brother." His face went serious. "Oh hell. Do you? Shite. Because if you do it's bloody brilliant. I love kids. Always wanted to be an uncle—"
Harper turned from the view and gave him an flat look.
"Right."
"I'm sorry about your mother," she said. "I know it was a while ago, but I wanted you to know. She was a nice woman and always very kind to me."
Liam nodded his thanks. "So what's this all about?"
"When you all lived in Kentucky with us, your mom and my dad were working on a new yeast recipe to use at Dean's. They did the work together, kept their findings and experiments in a green leather notebook with thistles impressed at the corners. I came here to find that notebook." At Liam's frown, she could tell he had no clue what she was talking about. "Neither one of you is brewing. The recipe is gathering dust somewhere. But I am. I'm working to save my family's company. I don't even need the notebook—I realize you might want to keep it since it's part of your mother. I can copy what's in it. My dad's writing is in there too. All we need to do is find it for me to prove it."
"Forget it."
Harper spun around. Ross stood there with his arms crossed, his eyes narrow, and his jaw tight. Great. "I have every right to see that notebook, just as you do. It wasn't a gift to her. They shared it. I don't know why she took it when she left. Someone had to have it I guess. But it's as much mine as it is yours."
"If it's his, he can come get it."
The breath went out of Harper. She felt for the wall for support, her grief momentarily disabling. Damn you, Ross. Using the anger she felt towards him, she straightened her shoulders and glared at him, her voice tight when she spoke. "That would be a little hard for him to do, seeing as how he died a couple months ago."
Liam let out a heavy breath. "Harper..." he said softly.
Ross didn't even flinch, the bastard. There was nothing behind those cool steely blue eyes. Deep down, it stung. But it also pissed her off and confirmed everything she'd thought about him for the last twelve years.
"He asked me to find it, said it was our hope at reviving the business. Whatever you think I've done, whatever you hate me for—" damn it, her eyes were starting to burn. "Look, we can figure it out. All three of us. We're the last of our parents. And that notebook belongs to all of us."
"Couldn't hurt to look for it," Liam said, looking over her shoulder at Ross. "Do you know of it?"
"No. It's most likely in a box in the attic."
Relief flowed through her, but she didn't let it s
how. And she sure as hell didn't let her hopes get too high. "So you'll find it."
"When I'm damn good and ready to." With that Ross strode away.
The rage started slowly, filtering through Harper like a quietly gathering storm until it pushed at her insides, wanting to explode out of her with the force of a lightning bolt. Her fists clenched at her sides. "I'm going to kill him."
Liam let out a small laugh. "Be my guest." He didn't seem pleased by Ross' behavior, but he hadn't exactly stood up for her either. "I'll try to find it for you, Harper, provided my brother doesn't get in my way. What he fails to remember is that Mother's things belong to me too, and I'm fine with you copying whatever you need from them."
"Thank you."
"Ross won't bend until you two come to some sort of peace."
"Like that's going to happen."
"Then make it happen. You came all this way. Crossed an ocean." His eyes went narrow and his jaw went tight. It was the most serious she'd seen him so far, and he reminded her very much of Ross in that moment. "Give my brother hell, Harper. He needs it."
With that, Liam strode across the patio and disappeared inside.
CHAPTER FOUR
Liam was right. She hadn't come all this way just to let a bad attitude deter her. Standing by the wall, Harper scanned the crowd on the patio. The doors to the conservatory were open and through it, she could see Ross' wide shoulders as he talked to a group of men, some of whom she'd been ogling earlier. Through the windows, she watched dancers clap as one song ended and another begin.
As she moved forward, making a beeline for Ross, a group of women appeared and pulled the men farther inside the conservatory and into the dance. Crap. She paused in the doorway. It was crowded and loud, and would've seemed like a lot of fun—if she hadn't been madder than a hornet.
The dance was very similar to square dancing. There was even a person calling out steps. Liam caught her eye, spun a partner around, and then snagged Harper's wrist. "Gotcha."
