The House on the Shore (17 page)

“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.
Sh
e would play fetch all day long
given the chance, whereas Rhona’s legs are black.
She wi
ll 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.”

“No, but I’d like it better if I didn’t make you nervous.”

Anna lost her grip on a plate.
It clattered onto the table.
“I beg your pardon?”

“You see what just
happened.
I do
something that shakes you up.”

“You do not!”

“I do, and I’d like you to feel more comfortable.
Ju
st think of me as a neighbour.”

Comfortable?
Slippers are comfortable, thought Anna.
Being around this man was anything but.
As casually as she
could manage, she asked, “Why?”

“Because I’ll be stuck here for a while.
Accept it.
It can’t hurt us to become friends.”

She put the salad bowl on the table.
“
I suppose not.”

“How about i
f
we start over?”
He took his place at the table
and poured her a glass of wine.

Anna scooped up a forkful of fish and thought about her answer.
Friendship?
She could handle that, couldn’t she?
She was an adult, after all.
Men and women worked together all the time; being neighbourly was no different.
It wasn’t as if he was asking her to leap into bed with him
.
Y
et she felt uneasy,
and found his presence in the small room disturbing.
There was no denying she was attracted to him, but it went deeper.
Every time he looked at her she felt a frisson of desire.
Dropping her guard and trusting this ma
n would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

“I’ll eve
n take you sailing,
”
h
e offered, turning his smile up a notch.
“
Please don’t say no
.”

“There’s no need for bribery.”

“B
ut it
’
s working, isn’t it?”
He let out a pe
a
l of laughter.

In spite of her doubts, Anna chuckled and
clinked her glass agains
t his.
“Here’s to friendship.”

“Good.
Now that we’ve drawn a truce, what do you want to talk about?”

She
smiled
.
“I
s this your first visit to Scotland
?”

“Yeah.
And I like what I’ve seen of it
.”
He gave her a killer smile, leaving her in no doubt that he wasn’t only referring to the scenery.

Anna
swallow
ed the last of her wine.

“Can I refill your glass?”

She shook her head.
“No thanks.
I have to be up early in the morning.
W
hat happens when the part for the
autopilot
arrives?
Will you stay a
little
longer
or sail home?”

“I’m not sure.
I’d like to see more of your country, but I guess I should head back to Boston.
I’ve been away for nearly two months.
For a working artist, that’s half a lifetime.”

“And there’s your lady friend.
You must miss her, of course.”

He narrowed his eyes.
“Now, Anna.
I told you it’s not serious.
Actually, I thought it was going to be serious, but I was wrong.
I’m not good
at
judging those kind of things.”

“Things being
?”

“Relationships.”

“I see.”
She looked down at her plate.
“
T
here’s a lot more to Scotland, than Loch Hourn.
You could always see about hiring a car from the garage in the village and do some exploring.
Perthshire is very beautiful, then there’s Edinburgh, and of course, every tourist has to see Loch Ness.”

“
I might do that if I have to wait any longer for the part.”
He rose from his chair.
“Well, well, will you look at the time?
As
you have to get up e
arly
,
I’d better say goodnight.”

“Are you sure?
You’re welcome to stay for coffee.”

“Thanks, but no.
I need to check
a few things
before I
turn in
.”
He walked into the hallway
and
paus
ed
by the door.
“Th
anks for dinner. I enjoyed it.”

“I should be thanking you
.
Y
ou cooked it.”

“No problem.
It was worth it for the company.”

They
looked at each other
for a long moment.
Then
Luke
caught her hands, backed her against the wall, and kissed her hard.
Her hands went to his shoulders, but instead of pushing him away, they locked round his n
eck.
A moan escaped her lips.

He let her go and stepped back.
“For the first time since I met you,” he said
, “I’m not going to apologiz
e.”

By the time
Anna
regained her breath, he was out the
door, whistling into the night.

A fine mist hung in the air as Anna drove the twelve miles down the glen to the village.
It was the evening of the tenant’s meeting, and althou
gh Anna hadn’t been invited, she ha
d decided to attend
.
A
ny plans
Alistair
had for
the estate
could easily affect her.

The car park adjacent to the village hall was packed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, including,
she
noted, a tractor.
Rather than struggle to find a space, she left her Land Rover outside Mrs
.
McCloud’s shop and walked the s
hort distance to the hall.

Leaving
her umbrella in the porch,
she
pushe
d open the huge wooden door, and slipped inside.
About seventy people were crowded into the low-raftered building.
Any gathering in the glen was always well attended as it was a change from routine, and every crofter
and tenant made the most of it.

Just inside the door, a group of older women were busily handing out cups of tea and biscuits.
Anna took the proffered cup,
but
declined the shortbread biscuit. E
very chair was taken, and rather t
han look for Morag, who she knew
would be
sat
at the front somewhere near the stage,
she
leaned against the rear wall for support.
At least she could slip away unnoticed if the meeting
became too heated or protracted.

Alistair Grant
sat at a table in the centre of the stage.
D
ressed in tweeds,
check
shirt and yellow waistcoat
, h
e looked very much the part of
l
aird.
A thin, bald
headed man, wh
om Anna did not
recognize
, sat on his left.
Reverend Cameron, t
he l
ocal minister
,
sat on his right.

The sound of voices filled the air
as
people settled themselves in their seats.
Anna could hear snatches of conversation, but as some of it was in Gaelic, she could onl
y guess at what was being said.

The bald man stood, banged his fist on the table
, and called the meeting to order
.
“Quiet!
Quiet, please!” he shouted.
“Let the Laird speak!”

A hush went round the room.

Alistair cleared his throat and got to his feet.
“Thank you for coming here this evening, ladies and gentlemen.
I shall try to be brief.
As you know, my father is no longer able to perform
his duties, and as his only son
that task now falls to me.
Sadly, as a result of his illness, management of the estate has not been what it should be.
I plan to rectify that.”

“Aye, the old Laird was a good man,” shouted MacIver, the estate carpenter.

“He was,” added Mrs
.
McCloud, adjusting her hat.
“We’ll not see his like again!”

Alistair nodded in acknowledgement.
“In the past, Killilan Estate was one of, if not the finest
,
sporting estate on the west coast of Scotland.
Under my management it will become so again.
However, there
will
need
to be changes.
I
’ve
already spoken to Ewan about opening the hotel all year round.
I
plan
to turn the dowager house into an adventure centre, offering among other things, mountaineering holidays for school children.”

“Is that so
?
” called a sour voice from the back of the hall.
“Ye’ll get all the money and we’ll get all the hooligans.
None o
f us will be safe in our beds!”

“Hush your noise, Malcolm Fraser.
You can talk!
Weren’t your twins a right pair of scallywags, always causing havoc in the village when they were young?
Why, I boxed their ears more than once.”

“
Aye
,
that
you did Morag McInnes, a
nd I’m grateful to you.
No doubt the experience you gained will stand you in good stead when the Laird opens his doors to these delinquents!”

The gathered throng erupted into laughter.
Alistai
r held up his hand for silence.

“I shall also be working closely with the Highland Council to see what businesses we can attract to the area.
There are grants available from both the English Government and European
Union that
will assist us in making this village the thriving community it once was.
I assure you these changes will benefit you all.”
He waved a bunch of papers in the air.

“What businesses?”
Mrs
.
McCloud shouted.
“I don’t want some foreigner coming in and stealing my trade and profit.
There’s no room for another shop, I’m telling you.”

Muted protestations from all around th
e hall rose to a small uproar.

Alistair thought quickly.
“I wasn’t talking about another shop, Mrs
.
McCloud.
I was thinking in terms of something more enterprising and productive.”

Morag got to her feet
.
“Such as what, Mr
.
Alistair?”

“Well
,
there’s forestry.
In the past
,
my father limited the amount of land put into forestry.
That could be extended.
Timber products, such as wood floors, are in great demand.
I don’t see why the estate couldn’t produce these.
The women could start a weaving enterprise, and we could develop the loch…for…for…salmon farming.
Many communities such as ours have profitable salmon farms.”

A ruddy
-faced
young man Anna
recognize
d by sight, but not by name, leapt up in protest.

“That’s as may be.
T
he mar
ket is awash with farmed salmon, a
nd then there’s the problem with sea lice infestation.
The papers are full of articles about farms having to destroy their stock.
Besides, fish farms only employ two
or three
men at most.
What about the rest of us?”