The House on the Shore

by Victoria Howard

  Only a few intrepid sailors ventured this far down the loch. The channel was narrow, twisting, and sheltered by steep, rugged mountains, with few places to land. If the crew were looking for hot showers and breakfast, they were way off course and should have sailed west to the Isle of Skye instead.

  Two hours later, hot, tired and thirsty, she finished unpacking and helped herself to a can of soda from the fridge. She sat down at the kitchen table and picked up the solicitor’s letter from where it rested against the pepper pot. While it was common to receive offers on a property following a death, she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to buy the croft when it was so far from the modern conveniences of life.

  The money being offered for Tigh na Cladach far exceeded its true market value. And would certainly be sufficient for a deposit on a small house in Edinburgh, but she couldn’t understand why anyone would want to pay that much for a piece of infertile land and a tumbledown cottage.

  The croft had been in her family for years, and Anna had no intention of selling it. She switched on her laptop and started to draft a suitable reply. Her concentration was broken by the shriek of frantic barking. She tore her gaze away from the screen and looked out of the kitchen window. A tall, dark-haired man was making his way up the crescent-shaped beach. He was doing a weird twisting dance, holding his right arm above his head. With his left, he pushed off the two boisterous, snapping Border collies.

  “Oh hell,” Anna groaned. She threw open the door and shouted. “Ensay! Rhona! Heel!”

  The dogs instantly stopped snapping at the stranger’s ankles and ran to their mistress. Anna leaned against the doorframe and waited while the figure strode confidently across the grass towards her, his well-muscled body covering the rough ground with long, purposeful strides. His jet-black hair showed a little grey at the temples, the cut slightly longer than was considered acceptable for a man she judged to be in his forties, but it suited him.

  He stopped a foot from her door, close enough for her to smell the lemon spice of his cologne. Now that she could see him more clearly, she noticed the laughter lines around his eyes and mouth, hinting at a softer side to his character. His body was lean, the outline of his muscles visible through the T-shirt he wore. A faint white scar creased his right cheek, and she thought it gave his face a handsome, rugged look. He gazed at her with dark brown eyes and smiled, slow and warm, and for some reason her breathing quickened.

  With just one look she knew he was trouble.

  “Hi, there. I know I’m trespassing, but could you ask your dogs not to rip off my thigh?”

  Anna drew herself up to her full height. “They’re guard dogs and only doing their duty,” she said stiffly. The dogs sat at her silent signal, but their eyes remained fixed on the stranger.

  “I’m sorry to intrude. I’m having engine trouble and I can’t get a signal.” He indicated his mobile phone.

  “That’s because there are no transmitters.”

  “Oh, then could I use your phone? I need to contact the nearest boatyard for some advice.”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I haven’t slept for twenty-four hours and I’m beat. Sandpiper, that’s my yacht, developed a problem soon after I left Stornaway.” He paused as her words registered. “Did I hear right? You don’t have a phone?”

  “No, I don’t, so I’m afraid I can’t help you. I suggest you weigh anchor, turn your boat around, and head west out of the loch.”

  “Perhaps I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Luke Tallantyre, from Cape Cod, Massachusetts.” He offered his hand. She didn’t take it.

  “Anna, Anna MacDonald. Yachts often stray into the loch at this time of year. Their crews seem to think this is some sort of hostel. It’s not, and I still don’t have a phone.”

  “So where do I catch the bus to town?” His eyes lingered on her face. “Oh, no. You're about to tell me there isn't a bus either. Aren't you?”

  Anna nodded. The motion sent sunlight gliding through her auburn hair. “That’s right. Welcome to Loch Hourn, otherwise known as the Loch of Hell.”

  “The name fits,” muttered Luke. “What sort of place doesn’t have a phone or a bus service in this day and age?”

  “How about the remotest glen in the Highlands? Up here, one man and his dog constitute a crowd. Before you ask, there are no shops either, unless you count Mrs. McCloud in the village, but she only opens on alternate days. The butcher’s van calls every Thursday afternoon, and the library service visits once a month. I think that about covers all the local amenities. Oh yes, there’s a mobile bank too, but that only comes once a fortnight. The school closed last year. But you’re in luck…there is a hotel and it has a phone.”

  “So there is a God after all.”

  “However, its twelve miles down the road in that direction,” she replied, pointing vaguely to some distant place.

  The line of Luke’s mouth tightened a fraction. “How do I get there? Walk?”

  “Well, you could, but it might rain, and then again it might not. You can never tell for sure. The glen has its own eco-system because the mountains are high, and the valley floor is narrow or something like that. I don’t fully understand the reasoning behind it—” Anna’s words trailed off. She felt herself blush. What on earth was she rambling on about? The guy didn’t need a science lesson, especially from her, but he was so good-looking that every time he gazed at her with those compelling brown eyes, she lost control of her tongue.

  Distractions of his type she could do without, especially after her disastrous affair. Still, the way he looked at her made her feel uneasy in a pleasant sort of way.

  “I suppose I could offer to take you.”

  “You don’t have to. You’ve been kind enough. I’ll just walk.”

  “You could do as I suggested and sail to Skye or Fort William, where there are boatyards with facilities for visiting yachts and their crews.”

  “Which I could call if I had a phone. Thanks again,” he said turning to leave.

  She shifted her feet. She wasn’t normally unhelpful, but there was something about his attitude that put her on the defensive.

  “Wait!"

  He stopped in midstride and turned. The dogs looked at him, then at their mistress, as if waiting for some clue as to what they should do with this stranger who was invading their space.

  Chapter Two

  “I’ll give you a lift,” Anna said, making a snap decision. “While you make your phone call, I can visit a friend. Do you need anything off your boat? If so, can you be back here within twenty minutes?”

  Luke’s face split into a wide grin. “Yes ma’am, I can.”

  Before she could say anything more, he turned and ran across the grass towards his small inflatable dinghy. As she watched him row back across the loch, she wasn’t sure she had made the right decision, but something told her Luke was used to getting his own way. She sighed. So much for replying to the solicitor’s letter, she thought, as she switched off her laptop.

  She ran a brush through her hair then plucked the keys to the Land Rover off the hall table. It took several attempts before the elderly, asthmatic engine coughed into life, and several more for her to get it into reverse gear. By the time she drove round to the front of the croft, Luke was leaning against the wall waiting for her, a small canvas bag at his feet. She threw open the passenger door, the rusty hinges screeching in protest.

  Before Luke had chance to slide his backside onto the worn leather seat, the two dogs had pushed past him and jumped into the vehicle. Anna waited while he snapped his seat belt into place, before releasing the handbrake and driving off. Neither she nor her dogs appeared to notice the almost total lack of suspension as the old Land Rover bounced over the pot-holed ground. They rounded a corner on the steep, single-track road, with only inches to spare.

  Luke cleared his throat. “Is the phone company about to disconnect the service? Is that why we’re trying
to break the land-speed record?”

  Her head snapped round. “Disconnect? No, why should it? It’s a public phone. Anyway why that look? I’m only doing thirty miles an hour, that’s not speeding.”

  “Thirty, huh?” Luke replied, his eyes wide as a dry stone wall almost took the rust and paint off the passenger door. “It feels more like fifty. Isn’t that a little too fast for this kind of surface? What if we meet another car coming the other way?”

  “We won’t. The only people who venture this far down the glen are walkers. There’s a car park at the head of the loch where they must leave their cars. The track to the croft is private. It doesn’t join the public road for another couple of miles.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying, it’s an odd place for someone like you to live.”

  Anna’s foot lifted off the gas and hovered over the brake pedal, but she resisted the temptation to slam her foot down.

  “Actually, I do mind. As it happens, Tigh na Cladach—the croft is very important to me.”

  “A croft? Is that another word for a cottage?”

  “A croft isn’t a building, but a smallholding or a piece of land.”

  “I see, and Tie na…”

  “Tigh na Cladach. It’s Gaelic for the house on the shore.”

  “It’s a pretty God forsaken place for a young woman to live by herself.”

  Anna briefly took her eyes off the road and glared at Luke. “I don’t recall saying I live alone.”

  “Well, no, you didn’t,” he conceded. “But if I was your husband, I wouldn’t leave you alone for one minute in that…what did you call it…croft? Let’s see, you don’t have a phone, or neighbours. I didn’t notice a satellite dish for TV, so my guess is that you don’t have one of those either.” A smile ruffled the corner of his mouth. “I’m curious, do you have running water, or do you have to wade out into the loch for a bath?”

  Anna laughed. “Now you’re being stupid.”

  “Okay, I shouldn’t have asked you where you bathe.”

  “Thanks for so deftly dropping the subject.”

  “Whoops, point taken. What if you had an accident or someone was prowling around? What if I was an axe murderer?”

  Anna raised an eyebrow, and for a second longer than necessary, her gaze held his.

  “Are you?”

  “Hell no!”

  “Well, it doesn’t enter the equation, does it? Now, if you’ve quite finished dissecting my lifestyle, would you mind hopping out and opening the gate? And please close it again after I’ve driven through.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m being too personal,” Luke said, as the vehicle rattled over another cattle grid. “I’m just curious. You look as if you belong in the city, rather than out here in cow-pie land. You’re either eccentric or plain crazy. I just can’t figure out which. What do you do for a job?”

  Anna pulled away from the gentle pressure of his arm where it rested on the back of her seat, and concentrated on negotiating the narrow, twisting road instead.

  “My you are inquisitive. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have no intention of answering any more of your questions. How I choose to live my life is no concern of yours.”

  Luke held up a hand in self-defence. “You’re right, but take a word of advice from a well-travelled and good intentioned stranger. An attractive young woman on her own in some isolated Scottish glen is asking for trouble, and if your boyfriend, husband or whoever can’t see that, he needs a whole new brain.”

  Anna took a deep breath and held on to her temper. “Look, Mr. Tallan…”

  “It’s Luke.”

  “Luke,” she said, bringing the Land Rover to a halt in front of the hotel. “You’ll find the phone in the lobby. If you don’t know how to use it, I’m sure Katrina, the receptionist, will show you how. While you make your call, I’ll go and see my friend. I’ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay. I’ll be as quick as I can.” Luke picked up his canvas bag and climbed out.

  Anna watched as he sprinted in the direction of the hotel entrance. What the hell was the matter with her? This wasn’t the first time she had stayed at the croft and been disturbed by lost mariners, but she’d not behaved like this. What if he had a smile that would make the most committed spinster run for the preacher? Her brain said she wasn’t interested. Her hormones had other ideas.

  A knock on the partly open driver’s window brought her back to reality.

  Luke looked at her sheepishly. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but here goes; the phone doesn’t take credit cards, and the smallest thing I have is a £50 bill. The hotel people won’t break it, so…I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare change?”

  Anna bit her lip. She laughed as she stepped out from behind the steering wheel. God save her from tourists and this one in particular. It was only the beginning of June. She had another three months before the summer trade died down. She dug into the pocket of her jeans and brought out a crumpled £5 note.

  “Here. I’m sure they’ll change this for some coins. There’s ample to make a call to Fort William.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” he smiled. Only this time his smile reached his eyes, softening his features. Despite her attempts not to, Anna found herself responding. She shook her head. She sensed that few women resisted Luke’s charming, easy smile, and his deep seductive voice.

  While Luke made his phone call, Anna sought out Morag. She found her friend in the hotel kitchen, busy preparing lunch.

  “Hi, Morag. Have you got a minute for a chat, or is this a bad time?”

  “Well, well, if it isn’t yourself,” Morag replied, her face breaking into a welcoming smile. She hugged Anna. “I wondered when you would find time to pay me a visit. The ghillie said he’d seen a Land Rover parked outside the croft, so I knew you had arrived safely. Now lass, you know I’ve always got time for you. So long as you don’t mind me carrying on with this,” she said, adding a potato to the vegetables in the pot, “we can talk.”

  Anna smiled and shook her head. Morag never changed. She always knew the latest village gossip.

  “I came to thank you for airing the house and making up the bed.”

  “You’re welcome. I didn’t light the old range, though. I wasn’t sure you’d need it in this warm weather.”

  “You mean the Aga? That’s okay. I used the immersion heater this morning, but the Aga is more economical. The weather is set to change soon, so I’ll light it then. You mentioned the ghillie - I assume you mean Sandy? How is he?”

  Morag’s smile faded. “There have been a lot of changes on the estate since your last visit, and not just your grandma’s passing. We were all sorry to hear of your loss, by the way. Such a nice old lady, she will be sorely missed. It’s good to have you back. Are you staying long? And your intended, is he with you?”

  “It’s good to be back. I’m here for the summer, and if you mean Mark, then no, he isn’t with me. We’re no longer together. It’s just me and the dogs.”

  Morag’s potato peeler paused in mid air. “I’m sorry to hear that, lass, you looked so well together. I daresay you know your own mind best. Now pass me those carrots will you? I’m all behind this morning. There was a mix-up with the bookings. We’ve six new guests arrived, and I haven’t even got lunch on yet.”

  “I can see you’re busy. I’ll come back another time.”

  “No, no, lass. You’re always welcome you know that. It’s just that we’re short-handed, and there’s only me to cook and serve lunch, not to mention prepare the vegetables for dinner as well. Lachlan is away on the rig, so it’s just me and the television for company this evening. Why don’t you come round after tea, and we can have a real good blether?”

  Anna smiled. “I’d like that. I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

  “But I’ve got a few minutes now. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  “I wondered if there was any work going here at the hotel, now that the tourist season has
started.”

  Morag brushed a stray lock of brown curly hair back under her cook’s hat and looked solemnly at her friend. “But what about your teaching job in Edinburgh? I thought you were due a big promotion.”

  “I was,” Anna replied, straining to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “But a long-legged blonde called Stella started work in our department. Mark was smitten. He gave her my promotion, so I gave him back my job.”

  “Mark didn’t know what he had in you, my girl. You’re smart and gorgeous. Just look at you - you’ve got hair halfway down your back the colour of a new penny and a lovely figure.” Anna blushed. “By contrast,” Morag continued, “I’m as tall as any man in the village, skinny as this wooden spoon, with hair so kinky I’ve no hope of running a brush through it. I’m still amazed that my Lachlan even noticed me.”

  “Lachlan loves you, Morag, that’s all that matters. Mark, well, I don’t think he’s capable of loving anyone except himself.”

  Morag chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right. That man is too good looking, and he knows it. I daresay this Stella woman won’t be the first, or last, to tempt him to wander. He’s a right patter merchant. He’d talk the knickers off you, and sell them back at twice the price! Besides, you should never trust a Sassenach.”

  Anna laughed. “Sassenach. I haven’t heard that word used in years.”

  “Sassenach—English—we’d all be better off without them, Anna, yours in particular, or so it would seem.”

  “He isn’t mine, Morag. Not anymore, and to be honest, I was getting fed up with him, always sprawling on my sofa expecting to be waited on hand and foot, and discovering his dirty underwear in my laundry basket. And his snoring. Do you know the man roared all night like a warthog?”

  “Is that so?”

  “And that’s not all. His idea of going out for dinner always included staying for breakfast too.”

  “It sounds to me as if you’re well rid of him. You’ll get over him soon enough. Besides, what you need is a true Highlander. Scottish men know how to treat a women.”