The Cottage

by Michael Phillips

  Steadying herself with David’s hand, Loni jumped up beside Jimmy Joe.

  “I don’t know how many of you heard that,” she said loudly, “but my associate has examined these letters you signed. Whatever Mr. McLeod told you was probably untrue. In fact, after three months, under the terms spelled out here, your rents could be doubled or tripled or more. I happen to know that this man is definitely lying to you and has very different plans for Whales Reef than whatever he has told you.”

  “Now just hold your horses, Miss Ford,” began Jimmy Joe.

  “Stop, James McLeod—just stop! Whatever deception you are foisting on these people stops here and now. You will not bully me again, as you did so many years ago in Mrs. Schrock’s Quaker school. Nor will you bully these good people and take advantage of them. You will not tear down the mill and houses and destroy this village—” As she spoke, Loni slowly drew several large sheets from the tube in her hand.

  “—nor build your oil refinery here,” added Loni.

  The deathly quiet among the crowd was broken by gasps at her words.

  “That’s absurd. I would never—”

  “I said stop, James McLeod!” interrupted Loni. She paused and waited. The men and women were hanging on her every word.

  Jimmy Joe stared back at the woman beside him, glancing briefly to the papers in her hand. Recognition dawned. An expression of shock spread over his face, to see the gangly girl he had made fun of more than twenty years ago suddenly turning the tables on him.

  “Your lies must stop!” Loni repeated. “I have in my hand copies of your blueprints, which I have obtained, legally by the way, and which show your secret plans for Whales Reef.”

  “How did you get those?” cried Jimmy Joe.

  Ignoring the question, Loni turned to the crowd.

  “These are drawings and blueprints,” she said loudly, “showing the oil refinery that your new friend Mr. McLeod has been scheming for years to build on Whales Reef. He tried to gain control of the island when your former laird was alive. He tried to persuade me to sell the island two weeks ago. When I refused, he and Hardy broke into the Cottage, and, I assume, when they could not find what they were looking for, concocted this scheme behind my back and David’s to turn you against us. I don’t know what he told you or promised, but these are his true plans.”

  As she spoke, Loni unrolled the blueprints.

  “Come and look, all of you!” she said. “You will see these drawings are labeled Whales Reef Oil Refinery, McLeod Enterprises. You will also see that not a single house or building presently standing on this island remains. All your homes and businesses, the inn, the woolen factory—they’re all gone. Only the church, the Auld Hoose, and the Cottage remain. Everything on this island except those three buildings is slated for demolition. You will also notice that the harbor has been replaced by an oil dock.”

  Pandemonium broke out. Loni handed David the blueprints. He was swarmed by Keith and Fergus and enough of the men to validate within seconds what she had said.

  “I have tried to do my best for you, and I always will,” said Loni, now having to shout to be heard. “I will protect and preserve your property, your way of life, your livelihood, and the mill. I would never do anything to hurt a single one of you.”

  “Hardy,” she said, turning to her third cousin, “give me those petitions. I intend to burn them personally.”

  The square broke into riotous cheers for their laird. As goes the allegiance of all fickle crowds, suddenly Loni was their hero.

  73

  Falling Out

  By now the blueprints were in Keith’s hands and making their way slowly through the crowd. From where he watched, a slow smile spread over David’s face as he witnessed the new laird coming into her own.

  In the shadow of the stone monument, Jimmy Joe stepped down and was attempting to slink away, no mean feat in size fourteen boots and a huge white hat. An argument broke out as Hardy hurried after him.

  “Ye lied tae me!” he growled, latching on to the Texan’s arm.

  Jimmy Joe correctly surmised the tone of his erstwhile partner’s voice. Being foiled by a woman in front of a crowd had put him in a foul mood. He was itching for someone to take it out on.

  “I never promised you anything, Tulloch!” he shot back. “This is your fault for not keeping these yokels in line. I counted on you to hold up your end.”

  “An’ I got a’ the signatures. Ye ne’er told me ye intended tae destroy the village an’ the fishin’!”

  Those near enough recognized the look on Hardy’s face. Everyone on the island knew to stand clear when his eyes flashed and his fists twitched. But Jimmy Joe McLeod stood at least two inches taller and probably outweighed Hardy by twenty pounds. Whether Hardy Tulloch was capable of fearing another man is doubtful. But the reputation of Texas was sufficiently ingrained in his image of the Wild West to make him wary of starting anything he wasn’t sure of being able to finish. He had heard stories of large knives and small pistols hidden in tall leather boots. He thus limited himself to threats.

  “What did you expect?” said Jimmy Joe. “I would have made you a rich man. You’d never have had to fish again in your life. Oil’s where the money is.”

  “My mum an’ my brithers has got hooses here, no tae mention my livelihood—ye was plannin’ tae level it a’ wi’ oot tellin’ me, ye bounder!”

  “What did you think I was going to do? Looks like you’re just as big a fool as the rest of them!”

  “Who are ye callin’ a fool!”

  “I’m saying it to your face, Tulloch—you big lout!”

  Jimmy Joe shoved Hardy aside and clomped through the crowd.

  The shock of being manhandled, along with the Texan’s surprising strength, left Hardy briefly speechless. A moment later he came to himself. He ran after Jimmy Joe in a rage.

  “Wait jist a minute, ye blackguard!” cried Hardy. “I’ll kill ye for that! Nobody talks tae Hardy Tulloch that way.”

  The crowd scrambled away to make room for the two angry men. Seconds later, Jimmy Joe’s Range Rover roared to life. Its huge tires spun on the smooth cobbles and skidded away, Hardy shrieking obscenities after it and waving his fist in the air.

  The sound of the racing engine sped toward the ferry landing, with Hardy galloping after it. Silence settled over the crowd.

  A few glanced at their wrists or pulled out pocket watches. The next ferry wasn’t scheduled for at least twenty minutes. Even slowing to a walk, Hardy would reach the landing in less than ten. A few of the men, anticipating a deliciously diverting brawl, began edging their way toward the street. It promised to be a rare entertainment, with the tantalizing possibility of seeing Hardy get whipped. A few also cast glances over the sea southward. Black clouds had been gathering on the horizon for several hours. The fishermen knew the signs and could smell rather than feel the wind about to kick up. They were mentally weighing the attraction of fisticuffs at the landing with a good chance of being caught in a deluge.

  Gradually a few of the men started toward the landing. More followed, until a good-sized group of men was hurrying along the main street out of the village.

  ———

  Watching the stormy departure of the two men, with a good many men on their heels, still standing on the bench where she had delivered her short but impassioned speech, Loni was overcome with exhaustion. She had been running on adrenaline for days. She and David and Maddy had rushed north frantically from London, driven across southern Shetland at breakneck speed, then had walked into the middle of a hornet’s nest.

  Confronting her childhood nemesis, the bully James McLeod, whose family had left the Fellowship when Loni was eleven, had sapped the last ounce of her emotional reserve. Fatigue rushed over her like a wave. She stepped down. From where he stood, David saw the sudden pallor come over Loni’s face. He hurried quickly forward and offered his arm. Loni took it, and they walked slowly through the stupefied crowd.

  The noise and
din resumed. Everyone closed around them, asking a million questions at once with happy expressions of gratitude and handshakes.

  David returned the greetings from his friends with characteristic good cheer.

  “We will visit with you all very soon, I promise!” he said loudly. “Right now your laird and your chief need to get to our respective homes to shake the dust of travel from our feet. Perhaps I shall see you at the inn this evening.”

  Enthusiastic jubilation followed as they walked to the car, David carrying the documents and petitions and blueprints. Maddy stood waiting.

  “Quite a performance, girl!” she exclaimed. “You told that big lummox where to get off.”

  “I guess I did at that,” said Loni. “The information you gave me helped. Were the documents really so devious as all that?”

  “Worse. If you care to go over the details, the fine print was like nothing I have ever seen.”

  “It is enough for now to have exposed the scheme for what it was.”

  They climbed into David’s car.

  “So . . . this is Whales Reef,” said Maddy as they made their way along. “Is it always like this?”

  “Hardly,” laughed David. “You happen to have come during tumultuous times. I think you will find our island generally quiet and peaceful once this hubbub settles down. But now,” he added, glancing toward Loni, then over his shoulder at Maddy, “I think it’s time to get you ladies home.”

  Loni smiled. “Home . . . hmm, that does have a certain ring to it.”

  74

  The Cliffs

  During Jimmy Joe’s reckless drive to the ferry, the same inconvenient reality occurred to him as had suggested itself to some of the village men, that he would likely have a longer-than-pleasant wait before he could get off this ridiculous rock.

  He arrived at the landing, slowed, and looked out across the empty sound. He neither saw nor heard any sign of the rusting tub.

  He was not a man who enjoyed the feeling of powerlessness. If he thought it would do any good he would probably have tried to swim the isthmus. The idea of spending another minute on the island only intensified his rage.

  But he didn’t have to sit doing nothing. He threw the SUV into reverse, half skidded off the wooden landing, then jammed his foot on the accelerator and sped off northward along the narrow western road. Might as well see where it went, he thought. He would keep an ear cocked for the boat’s engine.

  In less than a minute he found himself driving along a dirt track barely wide enough for the Range Rover. It was unlikely anything so large had ever been on this road that headed toward the isolated northwest part of the island. A small sign warned, Extreme Danger, Peat Bogs Ahead. He had no idea what a peat bog was, but he had the good sense to slow down.

  The road soon came to an end. Jimmy Joe stopped and got out. He glanced back to where he could see the blue of the ocean in the distance and listened.

  Still no sign of the ferry.

  Looking around, he thought he had never seen a more desolate place in all his life, unless it was the desert of West Texas near Amarillo. He set off walking absently along the path leading away from the dirt road. Without knowing it, he was soon approaching the high cliffs that defined most of the northern extremity of the island. Five minutes later, he stood on a high bluff overlooking the sea.

  Behind him, coming from the south, black clouds were approaching rapidly. Huge drops had already begun to fall on the town. By the time the curious men on their way to the landing reached the edge of the village, they found themselves under a downpour. All but one turned back. He eased his car through the villagers as they sprinted for their homes, along with those caught out in the town square.

  Standing on the treacherous bluff, a gust of wind brought Jimmy Joe to himself. He was just thinking that it was time he returned to the landing when he heard a noise behind him. He turned.

  “What the—?” he said irritably. “What in the heck are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to ask you about these plans,” said the other, holding up a sheaf of papers.

  “How did you get those?” snarled Jimmy Joe.

  “Never mind how I got them. You made promises, and it is clear you planned to cut me out.”

  “What . . . those? That proves nothing.”

  “I know what you planted against me. I won’t go to jail for this.”

  “You’ve got no proof.”

  “I’ll take you down with me.”

  “You’ll do no such thing, boy! I’m still running this show. Now get out of my way. I’m through with this tomfool place!”

  As the words left his mouth, a bolt of lightning flashed offshore. Unconsciously Jimmy Joe glanced toward it.

  A deafening crash of thunder followed. Instantly rain began to pour down over the north end of the island.

  75

  Guest at the Cottage

  David carried Loni’s and Maddy’s bags into the Cottage just as the rainstorm hit. They all hurried inside.

  “You warned me about the rain!” laughed Maddy as they bustled into the entryway. “Whoa!” she said, gazing about at the high ceiling, oak paneling, and circular stairway swooping down from the landing above into the center of the foyer. “Look at this place. Hey, girl—it’s a mansion!”

  The house was chilly. David quickly had a fire going and the central heat turned up. As they suspected, they found evidence of mischief in Ernest’s study, though nothing appeared seriously amiss. Loni vowed to talk to Hardy, and sternly, to make sure nothing had been taken, or if it had, to get it back.

  “I’ll run home while you get settled,” said David. “Do you think you would at last like to have Isobel and Saxe take up their apartments here? With two ladies to cook for, Isobel would be in heaven. I think she’s sick of men.”

  Loni laughed. Maddy had a puzzled expression on her face.

  “My housekeeper and butler,” explained Loni. “I told you about them.”

  “Oh yeah—I am dying to see a real butler!”

  “I’m afraid you might be in for a disappointment,” said David. “He was more a handyman and valet to my late cousin. I’m afraid he is feeling out of sorts that I won’t allow him to wait on me.”

  “He can come over and wait on me,” said Maddy. “I’m on vacation!”

  “Perhaps that can be arranged. What do you think, Alonnah?”

  “It might be a good time for them to return,” she replied. “There is still so much uncertainty about the future, but for now . . . yes.”

  “And didn’t I hear something about a gamekeeper?” asked Maddy.

  “Yes, Dougal Erskine,” said David. “He’s already moved back here to the Cottage—out in the barn, that is.”

  “You make him stay in the barn?”

  “He has a small apartment attached to the barn. It’s quite nice, actually. Uncle Gregor took good care of the three of them. Well . . . I guess I will see you later,” David said, turning to Loni, then hesitated. “We’ve been together almost constantly recently. Seems a little strange to just say good-bye and walk out.”

  “Especially in that rain!” said Loni. “Listen to it—it sounds like hail.”

  “That could be. I’ve seen hail here when the temperature is seventy degrees, a rarity in itself even without the hail.”

  “Are you sure you want to go out there right now? How about a cup of tea first?”

  “I ought to get home and check in with Isobel and Saxe. But how about you two coming for supper tonight at the Auld Hoose?”

  “Something simple,” replied Loni. “No big deal that will set the village talking.”

  “I’ll just have something here,” said Maddy. “You two—”

  “Nonsense,” interrupted David. “The three of us are a team, right? I’ll have Isobel whip up—no, wait, I’ve got it. Let’s go to the inn for fish and chips. That may set people talking even more, but we need to be seen right now.”

  “Perfect,” rejoined Loni. “Fish and chips s
ounds great. You will love it, Maddy—a genuine old-fashioned Scottish pub with fish and chips you have to eat with your fingers.”

  “If you’re sure the two of you don’t mind my tagging along.”

  “You’re my honored guest,” said Loni. “But first I would like to get you settled. We’ll take showers and sit down in front of this nice fire with cups of tea to settle our stomachs—at least for me. I won’t force the tea on you quite yet, Maddy.”

  Loni turned and looked deep into David’s eyes.

  “Thank you, David . . . thank you for coming to find me. We got back in the nick of time. I still don’t know how all this is going to work out.” She paused and glanced about the Great Room. “But you’re right in what you said. This does feel like home. So shall we meet you at the inn?”

  “I will head over there after swinging by the Auld Hoose. People will have a lot of questions about what happened in the square. I need to be there. I’ll walk the village, greet everyone again.”

  “In this rain!”

  “I’ll wait till the squall passes. But I need to assure everyone that life is back to normal.”

  “Spoken like a true chief.”

  “Why don’t I come back for the two of you around six? By the way, Maddy,” he added, “on behalf of this chief and his people . . . welcome to Whales Reef!”

  “Thank you, kind sir!” replied Maddy with a nod and curtsey.

  David turned and left the Cottage.

  ———

  Loni had scarcely sipped at her tea before she was sound asleep in her favorite chair in the Great Room. In her guest quarters upstairs in the East Wing, notwithstanding the danger of napping so late in the day, Maddy flopped onto the bed and was likewise asleep within minutes. Her introduction to tea would have to wait.

  With an energy boost from an hour’s sleep, the evening at the Whales Fin Inn was more enjoyable for the two women than it might have been otherwise. Though the front of the storm passed, the rain lingered, coming down hard at times, yet did not prevent a steady stream of villagers dropping in, desiring, as they said, to pay their respects to the chief and the laird.