The House on the Shore

by Victoria Howard

  A short time later, dressed in a pair of navy chinos and white V-necked top, she padded downstairs. There was still no sign of Luke, so she busied herself laying the kitchen table. She hoped he liked haggis because that was all there was for dinner.

  “Serves him right if he doesn’t,” she said, placing a jug of iced water on the table.

  “What serves me right?” A deep voice shattered her thoughts.

  “I wish you would stop creeping up on me like that!”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to freak you out. The front door was open. I didn’t think I needed to knock.”

  “You didn’t…freak me out. I just didn’t hear you come in, that’s all.”

  “Yeah. It’s a good thing you didn’t have a knife in your hand when you spun around. You might have inadvertently gutted me.”

  “I would not. I’ve made up the spare room. It’s the one on the left at the top of the stairs. Just watch your head on the ceiling, as it’s rather low. The middle door is the bathroom. You’ll find clean towels in the cupboard. If you want to take your bag up and wash your hands, dinner will be ready when you come down.”

  “Okay. See you in a minute.”

  Luke dumped his bag on the bed and looked around the room. It was miniscule, scarcely larger than his cabin. However, it was bright and welcoming, and came with a view of the loch and mountains beyond. The walls were painted a delicate shade of blue. Bordered by sapphire-coloured velvet curtains, the small dormer window faced south, and was ideally suited for keeping an eye on his yacht.

  An antique chest of drawers stood on either side of the door. Their surfaces gleamed with a patina that only came from years of polishing. The brass bed that filled the centre of the opposite wall was so large, that Luke wondered whether the room had been built around it. Two paces either side of the bed and his head came into contact with the sloping ceiling. He opened his bag, took out his sketchbook, and propped it on the chest of drawers nearest the window.

  Anna’s lilting voice floated up the staircase. “Dinner’s ready.”

  He entered the kitchen, as she placed two plates steaming plates of food on the table.

  “I’m sorry, there’s no wine.”

  “That’s all right.” Luke sniffed cautiously at his meal. The aroma of herbs and spices and something he couldn’t quite identify assuaged his senses. “What’s this?”

  “Tatties, neeps, and haggis.”

  “Could you translate that into English?”

  Anna’s knife and fork paused in mid-air.

  “Potatoes, turnip, and haggis. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Mm.” Luke replied, somewhat sceptical. “And what exactly is haggis?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “It’s a wee furry animal with only three legs, one of which is shorter than the other two so they can run round mountains. They’re the very devil to catch.”

  “Something tells me that’s the oldest joke in Scotland.” He poked his knife at the brown substance on his plate. “You do you expect me to eat this without knowing what it is I’m putting in my mouth.”

  Anna swallowed the mouthful she’d been chewing. “Lamb’s liver, onion, oatmeal, spices, suet, all cooked in a sheep’s stomach.”

  “Gross!”

  “Hardly. Just think of it as the Scots’ equivalent of a boil-in-the-bag meal,” she replied, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.

  “My God, that’s revolting.” Luke pushed his plate away.

  “Taste it. I dare you.”

  “You dare me?”

  “Yes, I do. In fact I double dare you.”

  “But not double dog dare.”

  “I haven’t heard of that one, but yes. I double dog dare you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Times infinity. Ha!”

  With a sharp intake of breath he scooped up a small amount onto his fork and tentatively took a bite. Anna watched the range of expressions on his face with glee.

  He nodded. “Not bad, even if it does look like kitty-litter. But if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll pass in future.”

  “Okay. But don’t accept an invitation to a Burns’ Night Supper, expecting to eat foie gras,” Anna warned. “Because all you’ll get is haggis and whisky.”

  “I’ll remember that. I like your friend, Morag. She’s very down to earth.”

  “Yes, she is. She reminds me of one of the hens my grandmother used to keep, always darting here and there, making sure the younger birds are safe. Even when we were young, she always wanted to nurture everyone. Her maternal instinct is very strong.”

  “Does she have children?”

  “Sadly, Morag had a number of miscarriages.”

  “That must have been tough on her and her husband.”

  “It’s one of the reasons Lachlan is insisting they buy a farm of their own. He used to work on the estate, but gave it up in favour of working on the oil rigs. Morag hates him being away, she’s terrified he’ll be hurt in some unspeakable way.”

  “When Morag asked you about having a friend stay, you mentioned something about them being busy with classes. Are you a teacher?” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a leisurely smile.

  “I’m a lecturer in media studies and creative writing, or at least I was until recently.”

  “I’m impressed. What made you quit?”

  A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face. “I never said I quit. It’s just…well, if you must know my situation became intolerable, partly through my own stupidity. What is it they say? Never mix romance with business? Unfortunately, I didn’t take my own advice. Mark and I had been seeing each other for nearly two years when a more senior post became vacant. He promised me the job, but gave it to someone else in the department.”

  “Mark? The owner the boots you let me use?”

  “Yes. But hillwalking isn’t his favourite pastime.”

  “So, you felt you had to leave.”

  “It was bad enough that he’d been two-timing me, but when he gave his new girlfriend the job you can imagine how I felt, especially as I’m better qualified. Her experience obviously lies in other directions.”

  “Mark sounds like a genuine bastard. I think anyone in your position would have done the same thing. Would you pass the salt, please?”

  Anna handed Luke the cruet. “Perhaps, but when I gave up my job, I also gave up my apartment, too.”

  “Oh? Why was that?”

  “The rent was extortionate. If I’d stayed, my savings would have been gone within a few months. Fortunately, I had this place to fall back on.”

  “But you could have found another job.”

  “I could have, but I have this rather naïve idea of becoming a writer.”

  “And are you writing a book?”

  “My life is simpler now, so I can.”

  “Except for crazed intruders who wreck your house at night.”

  She frowned at him. “Except for recent events, things are good for me here. I only work mornings, which leaves me free to write all afternoon. The dogs are happier because I’m home more.” She began to clear the table. “Would you like some fruit or cheese?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “How about some coffee?”

  “Please. I like solitude too, especially when I’m painting. My house overlooks the Atlantic, but it’s nowhere near as isolated as this place.”

  Anna put a cafetière of coffee on a tray. “It sounds fantastic. Do you take milk and sugar?”

  “No to both. Here, let take that.” He took the tray from her hands and carried it into the sitting room.

  Anna poured two cups and passed one to Luke. She settled back into the sofa, tucking her legs beneath her.

  Luke took a sip. “You said your parents are in China. Are they on vacation?”

  “My father is a diplomat.”

  “I see. Could you have gone to stay with them for a while? Why the big hurry to move out here?”

  “It’s complicate
d.” Anna looked away lest he see the sadness in her eyes. “I was sent to boarding school when I was seven. Unlike other children who went home for holidays, I spent the term breaks in the dorm being looked after by the teachers. The only exception was the summer holiday when I joined my parents in whichever country they happened to be in at the time. The airline tickets stopped arriving on my fourteenth birthday. I came here to the croft, instead. The last time I saw my parents was at my university graduation.”

  “Don’t you miss your friends in Edinburgh?”

  “I enjoy socializing like everyone else, but I’m also comfortable with my own company. I think my childhood at boarding school prepared me for that. I also believe it’s one of the reasons my grandmother left the croft to me, she knew I would use it and appreciate its surroundings.”

  “My childhood couldn’t have been more different. My brother Jack and I grew up in a small town in Vermont. Dad taught art at the local high school, and Mom is what we used to call a housewife. I guess the new term is ‘stay-at-home-mom.’ Anyway, we spent our summer vacation at the beach having picnics in the dunes. We skied in Colorado almost every winter. Even now, Jack and I still go home for every Thanksgiving, Christmas and birthday. Jack’s quite a guy. You’d like him.”

  “Is he anything like you?”

  “He’s darker. Taller. Meaner. Seriously, he’s the funny one in the family. Owns a garage. Builds race cars in his spare time. Every now and again he wins something.”

  “Any races I’d know about?”

  “Doubtful. All I know is that he keeps my old MG roadworthy. Growing up with him was great, although I didn’t appreciate him at the time. All I wanted to do was kill him. And with all the BB’s I shot at him, I’m still surprised I didn’t!”

  “And he shot at you?”

  “Of course. That’s how I came by this.” He fingered the faint scar on his right cheek. “We were both armed and dangerous with our air rifles. He was fourteen. I was eleven, and sometimes we were downright determined to take each other out.”

  “Which is why you know so much about firearms.”

  He looked at her with an expression she could not define. A long moment passed. She grew uncomfortable in the strained silence.

  “I’ve a fair picture of your childhood. Tell me about your home on Cape Cod.”

  A half smile crossed Luke’s face. “It’s a three-storey—four if you include the watchtower—old wooden Coastguard station. It was built back in the 1930s and stands on the dunes overlooking one of the best beaches on the Cape. My studio is in the tower and has windows on every side. The light is perfect for painting watercolours and watching the whales. I love it best in the fall and in winter when the tourists have left, and the Atlantic rollers come thundering ashore. The beach is pretty deserted then.”

  “It sounds idyllic.”

  “It is. There are times when the house feels empty. It should be a family home, not a bachelor pad.”

  “So why isn’t it?”

  Luke was silent for the space of a heartbeat. He fumbled with his Rolex.

  “Nicole, my fiancée, died a week before our wedding. She went to get her wedding dress altered and was crossing the road when a car ran a red light. She didn’t even have a chance to see it. She died in the hospital three hours later.”

  “My God. How dreadful for you. I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago. See this watch? Nicole had just given it to me. She called it an early wedding present. Funny thing. She always said there was no reason to rush a wedding. She said we had all the time in the world. Turns out we didn’t.”

  Anna looked at the watch. Sleek, masculine, elegant, a perfect complement to its owner. “You must have been in great pain, but you kept the house. I’m surprised.”

  “It was semi-derelict when I first saw it. I spent a couple of years restoring it before I met Nicole. She was a curator of a museum in San Francisco. I’d been hired to investigate a case of art fraud. You know the drill; boy meets girl, love blossoms, etc, etc. I convinced her that San Francisco wasn’t nearly as wonderful as my digs, and she moved in with me. She left her whole world behind. After our wedding, we planned on using the house as a gallery and studio. Keeping it seemed the right thing to do.”

  “And you’ve never met anyone else you wanted to marry?”

  His eyes glistened in the half-light. “Let’s change the subject, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask about your accent. You don’t have much of what we Americans call a Scottish lilt. Is that because of boarding school?”

  Surprised by his question, Anna took a moment or two to reply. “I presume so. I went to school in England. Any child who didn’t speak the Queen’s English was given elocution lessons, so my accent was tempered to what you hear now. However, when Morag and I get together for any length of time, it does revert somewhat.”

  “I like it. It’s a soft round sound. Kinda sexy.”

  Anna smiled but didn’t answer. She was thinking exactly the same thing about his voice.

  “It’s not at all like Morag’s or the people I met in Stornaway. I couldn’t understand any of them.”

  “You’re not alone. There are certain dialects I have difficulty comprehending, and I’m a native. You only have to drive from Edinburgh to Aberdeen to notice the difference, and of course, Gaelic is still spoken in the islands.”

  Luke stretched out his long legs, careful not to kick the dogs lying on the rug in front of the fire.

  “What do you do at nights, besides work on your book?”

  “I have a radio and my CD collection. Unfortunately, there’s no TV reception unless you install a satellite dish, and that’s an expense I can do without. Sometimes I visit Morag or she comes here, and we share a bottle of wine. Now that the tourist season is picking up, the hotel hires a band at weekends to entertain the guests. Twice a year the estate holds a Ceilidh—a dance. In fact, there’s one in a couple of weeks’ time, so there are things to do.” Anna stifled a yawn.

  Luke glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “It’s late. You must be exhausted. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll take the dogs out and look around before I lock up.”

  “Well, if you’re sure—”

  “I’m sure. Besides, you look worn out.” The hand that took hers was strong, firm and protective.

  She lowered her gaze. “I couldn’t have made it through the day without your help.” Standing on tiptoe, she dropped a kiss on his cheek and began to climb the stairs.

  “Anna?”

  She paused, and her hand rested on the banister. “Yes?”

  “Don’t worry, everything will be all right. I’ll make sure no one hurts you, sweetheart.”

  For a long moment she looked back at him. An emotion without a name flickered through her heart. She nodded and climbed the rest of the stairs to her bedroom.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You don’t look as if you got much sleep,” Luke said, placing a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Anna. “Why don’t you take the day off?”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip. It was hot and strong, just as she liked it. “I can’t. The hotel is full this week, and what’s more, Morag is expecting me.”

  Luke’s dark brows drew together in a frown. “The hotel ran just fine before you ever started working there. Besides, Morag’s not stupid. She knows you need time to recover.”

  “I need this job,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  “I know you do, but I’m sure when everyone hears what happened they’ll be sympathetic.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think you appreciate how difficult it is to find work in the countryside.”

  Luke took a grip on his temper. “You’re right, maybe I don’t. I can also see that arguing with you is pointless. Since you’re so determined to go, I’ll drive you.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “Boy, are you wrong. Don’t thi
nk I didn’t notice your hand shaking when you lifted the coffee pot—”

  “It was not!”

  Luke’s expression contradicted her. “You’ve got black circles under your eyes, and your face has no colour at all.”

  “If you can’t find anything positive to say about my appearance, shut up.”

  “Temper, temper,” he said sweetly. “That’s no way to talk to your knight in shining armour.”

  “I thought knights were always young and virile. Aren’t you a bit old to be rescuing damsels in distress?” Anna smiled sweetly. She picked up her knife and fork and took another bite.

  “I didn’t hear you complaining yesterday. What happened this morning, Cinderella? Did you wake up and realize life isn’t one long fairy tale?”

  Anna ignored him.

  “What you need,” he continued, “is a day away from the croft, and I’ve got the perfect solution.”

  Anna sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re not going to drop the subject are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “All right, let’s hear this solution of yours.”

  He passed her the plate of toast. “I’ll take you sailing. It’s warm and sunny, and there’s just a light breeze. A day on the water will help you relax and feel better.”

  “I thought it wasn’t safe to take your yacht into open water.”

  “Sandpiper is safe. Maybe I didn’t explain it well enough. The pump on the autopilot is what’s screwed up. When you’re sailing single-handed, you use the autopilot to steer the boat so that you can eat and sleep. I don’t need it since I’m only planning on going as far as that little island at the mouth of the loch.”

  “You mean Sandaig Island?”

  “If that’s what it’s called, yes. Hey, what’s that dirty look? If you’re that concerned about letting Morag down, I’ll use my considerable American charm to placate her.”