The House on the Shore

by Victoria Howard

  Luke stood and offered his hand. He pulled her to her feet, but his hands took on a will of their own and slipped up her arms, drawing her closer. When he cupped her chin in his right hand and his mouth covered hers, Anna found herself powerless to resist. His kiss was slow, thoughtful, and as tender as the breeze.

  Her instinctive response to him was unlike anything she had experienced before. Before she knew what was happening, she was kissing him back with a hunger she didn’t know she possessed. Within the space of a second, their kiss went from simple contact to raw passion. Instinctively, her arms wrapped round his neck, her fingers burying in his thick black hair. Currents of desire swept through her, filling her with an inner excitement.

  Then her brain kicked in. She jumped backwards, pushing him away, too stunned to speak. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, let alone one with someone who wouldn’t be around for more than a week or two.

  Luke cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Wow…I don’t know what made me do that. I’m sorry I let you kiss me.”

  Flustered, Anna’s temper flared. “What? You kissed me!”

  “Well, maybe I did, but you kissed me right back,” he insisted. “I don’t normally kiss girls I don’t know, especially ones who are barely out of their teens.”

  “I’m thirty-two. That’s hardly a teenager. Please don’t try and tell me that it was destined because I won’t believe a word of it.”

  He rubbed his forehead with both hands. “Somehow I’d figured you were younger. Besides, I’m far too old to be behaving like an adolescent. Look, this conversation is getting weird very fast. I’m sorry. With you, I’m always sorry. I don’t know why, but maybe that means something too. Once the part gets here, I’ll split. You won’t be bothered with me anymore.”

  Her anger evaporated into embarrassment. “There’s no need to explain. I made a mistake too. It was just a kiss. It meant nothing. Let’s just drop it and go. The dogs are getting restless, and I have still have chores to do.” With that, she straightened her shoulders, called Ensay and Rhona, and set off towards the croft.

  She took a deep breath. What was wrong with her? She was a grown woman for goodness sake. She’d been kissed before, and not acted all prissy. It wasn’t as if they had made passionate love in the heather. It was just a kiss, but a kiss so intense it sent her hormones into overdrive. She found Luke attractive, but it was more than physical attraction. A tangible bond was forming between them. She took another steadying breath and tried to regain her equilibrium.

  “Anna! Wait! I acted like a jerk and I’ve taken up most of your afternoon. I really don’t know what made me do that and I apologize. I mean it, really.”

  She stopped and turned around. “I overreacted too. Anyway, as it’s not likely to happen again, it’s no big deal.”

  “You sure you’re not mad at me?”

  “I am. I have a strong feeling you have someone back home.”

  “I do, well sort of. She’s just someone I see sometimes. We aren’t a regular ‘thing’.”

  “How romantic, I’m glad I’m not a regular ‘thing’ with you. Now, if you don’t mind, I think we should go back.”

  The crack of a gunshot bounced off the hillside.

  Anna screamed.

  A brace of grouse called loudly and took to the air.

  Luke pulled her into the bushes and covered her body with his.

  “Keep your head down!” he hissed. “I thought you said the stag hunting season didn’t start until July.”

  “It doesn’t.” Anna whispered. Conscious of the weight of Luke’s body where it touched hers, she squirmed and wriggled against him trying to get free, finding the contact too intimate.

  “Then why in hell’s name is someone using us as target practice? And for God’s sake keep still!”

  “I don’t know. It was probably an accident. They were most likely aiming at something else. I’m more concerned about Ensay and Rhona. They hate loud noises.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’m not too fond of being shot at either! Any fool knows you don’t fire a rifle without checking to see if someone is in your line of fire!”

  Anna studied Luke’s face as he scanned the hillside. Suddenly, he seemed to know an awful lot about guns.

  “Luke, I—”

  He shifted his weight slightly, and held up a hand to silence her. “Shush! On a day like this, the slightest sound can carry a long way.”

  Anna did as she was told, but apart from the leaves rustling in the breeze, the only other sound she could hear was that of their breathing.

  After five minutes of lying in the heather, Luke pulled her to her feet. “Come on. I think he left. Let’s go and find those precious dogs of yours.”

  They re-joined the path and had only gone short distance when they found the prone body of one of the dogs.

  Anna screamed and dropped to her knees beside the dog, gently stroking its head and sobbing.

  “Oh, Ensay! What have they done to you?”

  Trembling, the dog raised its head and wagged her tail in response.

  Luke leant down next to Anna and ran his hands over the dog’s sleek coat. When they came away clean, he examined the dog’s legs to ensure none were broken.

  “Anna,” he said softly. “There isn’t any blood. She hasn’t been shot. She’s just winded and pretty scared. Give her a few minutes to get her breath back, okay?”

  Anna bit back her tears, and stared at his hands in disbelief. “Thank God. I hate to think of any animal in pain, but one of my dogs—”

  “I know, honey, they mean the world to you.” His hand closed over hers. “Don’t think about it. Be grateful that the jackass missed.”

  Anna nodded woodenly. She fished in her pocket for her handkerchief and blew her nose.

  “You’re right, I should be grateful. Everyone, including the ghillie on Killilan Estate, knows I will not tolerate hunting of any description on Tigh na Cladach land.”

  “Maybe one of the village kids is out shooting rabbits,” he said, “and didn’t account for the recoil.”

  Her disbelief showed in the tone of her voice. “I haven’t seen one rabbit, deer, or fox, since we left the house. Have you?”

  He put a hand her shoulder and turned her round to face him. He felt her body sag in defeat. Slowly her tears began to fall.

  “Anna, stop. I know you're upset, but nothing happened. Really. So, shush.” He gathered her into his arms and held her snugly. “The dog is fine, and I'm sure other one…Rhona, right? I’m sure she’s waiting for you at home,” he whispered against her ear. Reluctantly, he held her at arm’s length. “Come on, let's take Ensay back to the croft and let her rest. I don’t know how to make tea the Scottish way, but I’ll try. And if you're still worried, I’ll drive you to the nearest vet to get her checked out.”

  She wiped away a tear and regarded him for a moment. “You—drive me? On the wrong side of the road?”

  “I can try. Think of it this way. If I have a fender bender in that old rust bucket you call a Land Rover, who the hell will ever be able to tell?”

  Chapter Nine

  Luke made sure Anna and the dogs were safely settled in the croft before he left. Once out of sight of the house, he took the path up the hill rather than returning to his yacht. Despite what he told her about the shooting incident being an accident, he didn’t like the fact that some jerk who couldn’t shoot worth a damn was roaming the hills with a loaded shotgun.

  He trudged on until he reached the point where they had been standing, and tried to work out the direction the shot came from. The sun had been on his right, so he knew he must have been facing southwest. He reckoned that whoever had fired the gun had been standing more than thirty or forty yards away. The problem was, there were so many boulders and short stubby bushes littering the hillside that it was difficult to be sure which clump they had sheltered in.

  He walked up and down, examining the view from every angle, until he was certain he was in th
e right spot. He dropped to his knees and slowly inched forward, searching every clump of heather, every thicket of bracken, with his fingertips.

  For a moment, his attention shifted to Kate. He hadn’t called her, and she probably thought he’d died at sea. She might not even be at home. If she could find some place to surf or buy designer shoes, she could easily forget all about him for weeks at a time. Before he left, he wondered if he’d been in love with her. Then he met the redhead.

  Keep checking the ground. Got to keep checking…

  His fingers wrapped around a spent brass shell. Then another.

  The jerk had been using a rifle.

  Sitting back on his heels, he tossed the shells up and down in his hand. He didn’t need a ballistics expert to tell him the make, he recognized them instantly. Lynx Game King. Originally made for shooting gazelles and deer, they were mainly sold in Africa. He hadn’t seen that make in years, not since…he shuddered. The shells were powerful enough to bring down a large animal. In the wrong hands they could easily maim or kill a man, or a woman. How in God’s name had someone in Scotland managed to get hold of that particular brand?

  Any good sportsman always ensured he took away the ejected shells. The moron was careless, a rank amateur, or something darker. Luke closed his eyes and remembered the time he and his partner had cornered a guy suspected of counterfeiting. He’d been holed up in his granddaddy’s shack in the wilds of Kentucky and had taken pot shots at them with a twelve bore. He’d kept them pinned down for the best part of an hour, before finally running out of shells and giving himself up.

  Luke shook his head. He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were taking. He stood, and pocketed the shells. One thing was certain, when he caught up with the owner of the cartridges, he wouldn’t be polite when he asked his questions.

  ***

  While Luke scoured the hillside, Anna put a match to the fire, and sat on the floor next to Ensay, stroking the black and white head. Every now and again the dog whimpered, its body trembling under her hand. She swore silently. How could anyone hurt such a loving creature? Despite what Luke said, there was no way she was going to let the incident go. She’d find out who was responsible and see them punished. As the dog drifted off into a fitful sleep, Anna eased her hand away and tiptoed into the kitchen.

  She listened to the news on the old radio while she sat down at the table with a cup of coffee. The events of the afternoon would have to find some other place to go. She banished them from her thoughts, opened her laptop, and concentrated on the next chapter.

  Two days after the stranger’s visit, Coll, my youngest brother, came to me with a message from our mother - I was to return home immediately. When I entered the croft, mother greeted me with tears in her eyes. Fear gripped me. I felt the ‘Sight,’ my future suddenly vague and shadowy. I stared into her dark, unfathomable eyes, but saw nothing except emptiness and pain. She wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair as she had often done when I was a small child. I was told to bathe, put on the clothes she had laid out on the box bed. I looked at mother questioningly. Where had such finery come from? She did not answer, but merely handed me a small cup of uisage beatha, the water of life, or whisky as the Sassenachs call it. It made my eyes water, burnt my throat, and put fire in my belly, but I felt stronger for it.

  Then, in an instant, I knew. This was something to do with the stranger’s visit and the evictions, the violence and cruelty that was clearing folk from their homes in the glens to make way for sheep. My mother recognized my understanding and nodded. The sadness I saw in her eyes was beyond my comprehension.

  I knew if I disobeyed, the fate that had befallen other families would be ours too. With a heavy heart, I bathed and washed my hair. When it was dry, mother braided and pinned it into a coil at the nape of my neck. The clothes were new, fine lawn under-garments, and a corset, the first I had worn. When tightly laced, it pulled at my waist, making it difficult for me to breathe. When I begged to take it off, mother refused, saying it was necessary. My breasts were barely contained by the stiff fabric, and rose and fell with every breath I took. I felt myself blushing at their exposure, and wrapped my arms around my chest to cover my embarrassment.

  Finally, mother helped me put on the riding habit. It was similar to those I’d seen worn by the Laird’s daughter. The skirt was full, the jade green velvet falling in heavy folds at my feet. The narrow waist and tight bodice, with its tiny pearl buttons, would not have fastened but for the corset. The neck was low cut and trimmed with delicate lace, the sleeves long, tapered at my wrist and fastened with pearl buttons, like those on the bodice. I felt strangely excited, yet vulnerable. My breath came in shallow, quick gasps, a shiver of panic knotting my stomach.

  There came a quiet cough at the door, and then my father entered. He nodded his head in approval when he saw me, took my hands in his, kissed them, and gave me his blessing. A tense silence enveloped us. Minutes later the door opened, and the man who’d visited my parents but two days earlier entered. My small hand was placed in his, and the ferocity of the passion I observed in his eyes made me shake, as fearful images built in my mind.

  Anna stretched and rolled her head from side to side, trying to ease the knot that had settled in her neck. She studied the screen. It had taken her two hours to write three pages. If this had been a student’s work, she would have said it was stilted and forced, but she was no longer a student, and knew she could do better.

  Her determination to make it as a writer faltered. Perhaps Mark had been right all along and she should have stuck to teaching, but the mere thought of him made her defiant. She would finish her book and sell her novel if only to prove him wrong.

  She highlighted the offending section, hit the delete button, and watched the words vanish into the ether. She tried to re-draft the paragraph, but it was no use.

  What was the matter with her? She had been planning this chapter for days. She even had pages of notes filled with snippets of dialogue, yet the words refused to flow. She didn’t have writers’ block, but something was stifling her progress, and that something was six feet of dark-haired, brown-eyed American male.

  Chastising herself, she saved the file and switched off the laptop. There was no point in trying to write, not when she couldn’t concentrate. She glanced at her watch, seven in the evening, still early enough to drive to Morag’s house, but somehow listening to her friend drone on about Lachlan or question her about Luke, held no appeal. Worse still, she feared what she would say if Morag asked how the book was going.

  Selecting a CD from the rack in the sitting room, she slotted it into the player, and turned up the volume. The sound of a jazz guitar filled the air. She settled back into the cushions of the sofa, but was startled by a knock at the door. Her heart hammered in her chest as she felt her nerves tense. She wasn’t expecting visitors. She went into the hall, but didn’t open the door.

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “Luke Tallantyre. Remember me? The brilliant sailor who can’t get out of the loch?”

  She drew back the bolt, opened the door, and offered him a welcoming smile.

  He held out a carrier bag and grinned broadly. “Hey. Had dinner yet?”

  “I haven’t eaten since I had a salad sandwich at work. Why?”

  “Do you like sea trout?”

  “Do mice like cheese?”

  He grinned and reached into the bag and pulled out two fish. “I guess that means yes. I caught these two beauties this morning. I thought I’d cook you dinner. What do you say?”

  Anna hesitated, but his smile had a way of making her forget she didn’t really want him here. “It’s very kind of you, but really, there’s no need.”

  “I know I’ve been a general pain in the butt, but after all the excitement this afternoon, I wanted to make sure you and the dogs were okay.”

  “I’m fine. Ensay and Rhona are asleep on the rug in front of the fire.” She paused for a moment. “Do…do you think this aftern
oon was just an accident?”

  “Yes,” he said smoothly. “Now, are we going to stand here until these fish rot, or can I come in and make the best dinner you’ve had in years?”

  Anna stepped aside to let him pass. “The kitchen is on the left, but you already know that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Yeah, you can tell me where you keep the frying pan, and you could make a salad. You got any bread? Oh, and how about a lemon?”

  “Coming right up. Would you like some wine to go with the fish?” she asked, and passed him the skillet.

  “Sure, why not? Wait a minute; I think I recognize this CD. Is that Chris Camozzi?”

  “Yes, his ‘Windows of the Soul’ album. Do you like jazz guitar?”

  “Yeah, and sax. I like classical too, and opera, but only in small doses.”

  “Something we have in common, then.” She leaned against the dresser and watched him squeeze the lemon, and season the fish in the pan. He looked at ease in the kitchen, and she wondered why that woman back home hadn’t taken off his shoes and socks, and chained him to her stove.

  “Ensay and Rhona are pretty unusual names for dogs.” He said, breaking into her thoughts. “How did you come up with them?”

  Anna hadn’t been paying attention. She blinked and tried to recall what he’d said. When she couldn’t, she pulled open the cutlery drawer and started to lay the table in an effort to hide her embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.

  He winked at her. “You were a thousand miles away. What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing important. You were saying?”

  “Ensay and Rhona…not the usual names people give their dogs.”

  “They are out here. Sandy, the ghillie on the estate who gave them to me, named them after Hebridean Islands.”

  “How do you tell them apart? They look the same to me.”

  “That’s easy. Ensay is smaller and has black spots on her white front legs. She would play fetch all day long given the chance, whereas Rhona’s legs are black. She will herd anything that walks by—hens, goats, sheep, and children, even the odd stray yachtsman. Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about my dogs.”