Highland Fire: captivating romantic suspense full of twists

by Abigail Clements

  In anger I found the nerve to face him. ‘No,’ I said calmly. ‘I won’t. And you can’t make me, either. If you want to fire me, that’s fine. But you can’t make me go home. I’ll take Caitlin and go and live at Achbuie with the Inneses. They’d give me a room. I’ll find a job in Ullapool and stay here until I can hand her over to a proper foster home. I don’t need you for that, Dominic.’

  He released my hands and leaned back in his chair, regarding me with what appeared to be a guarded respect.

  ‘You’d be surprised what you might need me for, Carrie,’ he said eventually with a slight smile. Then after a pause, he said, ‘You mean that, don’t you? About staying.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He sat silent, looking out the window, where the morning was getting bright and full. Finally he said, ‘I’ve warned you, Carrie, the danger is very real.’

  ‘I’m staying.’

  ‘I know,’ he said with that same gently respectful smile. ‘Carrie, I will do everything I can to protect you. I don’t know if it will be enough.’

  ‘That’s my problem, Dominic, not yours.’

  ‘Oh no,’ he said softly. ‘I got you into this.’

  ‘Well, I’m staying here by my own choice, and my own risk. You needn’t worry about me.’

  ‘Carrie, how can you say that?’

  ‘I mean it.’

  ‘But how can I help but worry about you?’ he said. ‘I love you.’

  I sat silent and stunned, but he rose and went out into the sunny garden before I could speak. It was neither the time nor the circumstance for such words, but I could not help the sudden joy they gave me.

  I almost followed him. I leaned to rise from my chair. But then I caught sight of him, through the window, standing still in the fragile arch of the old rose trellis. Just standing and looking out over Loch Broom. I sat back again, watching. The brambles blew and shuddered on the arch, sending shadow and sun shifting uneasily over his hair. I watched his hands, quiet now on the faded wood of the trellis. How gentle they had been on my face, and how harsh on the thin bones of my shoulder.

  He loved me. What did he mean by love? What did he know of love? I didn’t know. I didn’t know if he knew. I looked out, over his dark head, at the moving waters of the loch, dark blue and shifting and full of sudden shadows. Could I live with his love? I turned from him, retreating from that uncertainty.

  I got up and began washing the tea things, listening for Caitlin to wake. I heard her thump out of bed above me and pad down the stairs. I went to get her, but met Dominic in the doorway carrying her in his arms.

  ‘Do I still work here, or do I go to the Inneses’?’ I asked awkwardly.

  ‘Of course you still work here,’ he said, almost reproachfully. ‘At least I’ll know where you are then. Besides,’ he added, setting Caitlin down on her chair, ‘I want my breakfast.’ I laughed and went toward the kitchen, but he caught me lightly, by the hair at the nape of my neck, and said, ‘Carrie, I meant that, before.’

  I didn’t turn to face him. In a moment he let me go and said no more about it.

  I made breakfast and we sat and ate together, as on every other day, as if that whole strange interlude had never occurred in the pale early morning.

  But afterwards while I was washing dishes and Caitlin, still in pyjamas, was making a long road out of books from the shelf, Dominic came quietly to the kitchen door.

  ‘Carrie, I have to ask you something.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, uneasy at his tone.

  ‘Now, I want you to listen and think very carefully. The night you came here, and went out to the phone and met Shona Anderson …’

  ‘What about it?’ I asked, curious. I had thought that whole sad event completely finished.

  ‘Did you see anything, or anyone, on the road that night? Anything at all?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I told you not, before.’

  ‘Are you sure? You haven’t kept anything back?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I answered quickly. ‘Why should I? Anyhow, I told the police the same thing I told you. I wouldn’t lie to them, would I?’

  His mouth tightened the slightest, and he said, ‘No. I don’t suppose you would.’

  ‘What’s this all about, Dominic?’ I said. He brushed my question off with a vague impatient wave of his hand and went out.

  I went upstairs, with Caitlin padding after me. I dressed her and made beds and dusted and swept floors. Caitlin followed behind, mimicking me. After that visit to Achbuie, she had taken to trying to call me Mommy. She got that from Toby and Tammy. I corrected her each time, gently. ‘Not Mommy, just Carrie.’ I knew I had to give her up one day, and I didn’t want to make it any harder for either of us.

  Each reprieve, like today’s, was a blessing. I didn’t think much about the future that summer.

  Some things, though, I couldn’t avoid thinking about. One was that someone, whose identity I could not guess at and for reasons I could not imagine, had apparently tried to kill me yesterday, and Dominic seemed to be telling me that he would try again.

  I felt hunted, and it was a terrible feeling. And there was nowhere to run. Dominic, whom I trusted, doubted himself as my protector. The natural protection of the law was suddenly forbidden.

  That was the hardest to take. I had grown up with an inbred respect for the law, and to turn to the police was not only my desire, but also what I felt to be my duty.

  But I could not. The instant I had mentioned the police to Dominic and he had turned on me so fiercely, I knew he was in trouble with the law. I could not bring myself to imagine what trouble. He had no reason to be. He ran what appeared to be a legitimate business. He was a wealthy man by any standards. He had no need to break the law, even if he had the inclination.

  Still, I was very aware that my own precarious situation was somehow connected to his. In some way or other he was just as threatened as I was.

  I realize now I could have gone to the police anyhow; perhaps I should have. I would have received their protection ‒ even from Dominic if need be. That had occurred to me. I didn’t really know what he’d have done had I betrayed him.

  But he had thought of my safety first. He gave me the chance to get away and I didn’t take it. That was my own doing and I knew I must now take the consequences, and one of them was to fend for myself without the protection of the law.

  I would stay until Caitlin had a family of her own. Then I could freely say goodbye to Sron Ban and Dominic O’Brady and whatever risky game he was playing forever.

  I asked myself often, later, had I known then the true and deadly nature of that game, would I have done any different?

  I was in the kitchen that afternoon, leaning over the deep double sink, washing clothes, my hair straggling annoyingly down from its clip. It was finally summer at Sron Ban, and the air was close and sticky in the dark little room. Outside the tiny window I could see the grey-black cows, flicking muddy tails at circling flies.

  Caitlin, scruffy with dirt from the garden and ill-tempered from the heat, was fractiously banging pot covers in the front room. I heard the low knock at the door over that sound, and for an instant gripped the ceramic side of the sink with fear.

  Who? I straightened and wiped my hands against my jeans, trying to convince myself that here, in the house, near the road and near Grisel MacLeod’s, I was safe enough.

  Still, I was trembling slightly as I walked quietly to the front window and peered out sideways for a glimpse of whoever stood at the door. I could see just his shoulder, and the smooth sunlit blond hair falling over the denim shirt: Seumas Cameron. I remembered the way he had walked, backward away from me, waving his arm with silly and gallant flattery.

  I went, laughing, to the door. He was standing there with that same open, beautiful smile and a bunch of dog daisies in each hand.

  ‘Ah,’ he said in a soft stage whisper, ‘madonna of the mountains, fair lady, I have longed to see you.’ He handed me both heaps of flowers.

>   ‘Cut it out, Seumas,’ I said, laughing, feeling as if I had known him forever.

  ‘You know my name?’ he said, with only half-mock surprise.

  ‘Rebecca told me.’

  ‘She told me yours, too, actually,’ he said. ‘So did Kevin and so did everyone else. I asked everybody, just to be sure.’

  ‘I’m flattered,’ I said. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Marry me,’ he said happily.

  ‘Not today, I haven’t finished the washing. Is there anything else?’

  ‘Well, actually,’ he said dejectedly, ‘I’ve really come to see Dominic. Is he here?’

  I shook my head. I was curious. I had not heard Dominic mention Seumas since his arrival. I didn’t know they knew each other.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, and then added, ‘Well, if you won’t marry me, will you maybe just make me a cup of coffee before I go away and throw myself in the loch?’

  ‘A last request,’ I said sadly. ‘Ah, well, I guess I can’t refuse that. Would you like to come in?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said gleefully, bounding happily into the room, turning around once and flopping down on the floor beside Caitlin. He made me think of a great yellow dog, a Labrador or a golden retriever.

  I followed him into the room with my armful of bedraggled daisies. In the kitchen I set the coffee pot on the gas, filled an empty blue-and-white milk jug with water, and stuffed the flowers into it.

  When I went back to the front room with the jug, Seumas was on hands and knees giving Caitlin a horse ride. The horse bowed to me elaborately as I passed, and Caitlin almost fell over his head. She clutched at his yellow hair and I said, ‘Hey, watch it, she’s breakable.’

  I poured the coffee while the horse made careful chastised circles around the front room.

  I carried the cups back and set them on the table. Then I lifted Caitlin off Seumas’s back, explaining, ‘Horse wants his coffee.’ She howled and kicked and Seumas apologized.

  ‘I’m sorry, I guess I started something.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said, sitting with Caitlin on my knee by the table. ‘She’s in that kind of a mood. It’s the weather.’

  He sat down, too, and sipped at the coffee. ‘Oh, beautiful,’ he said with feeling. ‘Coffee at Achbuie doesn’t bear thinking about. Diana makes the worst coffee in the Western world.’

  ‘What about Mary?’ I said perversely, because her name hung uneasy on my tongue.

  ‘Mary makes tea.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. He sat watching me, his chin on his hand, studying my face. Nervous, I said, ‘I saw your drawing of Tammy. It was lovely.’ He smiled.

  ‘I love doing children, the lines are so beautiful.’ He looked around the room and said, ‘Have you any paper?’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘Plain. Just paper. Thick, if you’ve got it.’

  ‘There might be some in the office,’ I said absently, trying to rearrange Caitlin, who was falling asleep on my lap, into a more comfortable position. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ he said, jumping up, striding easily out into the hall.

  ‘Hey, wait,’ I said, uneasy and a bit annoyed with the casual liberty he took about the house.

  ‘I’ll just be a moment,’ he called cheerily from the office. He was more than a moment and my annoyance grew. I realized that he had no business in Dominic’s office, stranger that he was, and I should have stopped him. But that would have been difficult without appearing rude and distrustful. He was such a happy, gentle soul, I didn’t want to insult him. Also Caitlin had finally settled down, after a long grumpy afternoon, and slept now, astride my knees, her arms loose around my neck and her head on my shoulder. I was exhausted by the afternoon and very reluctant to disturb her.

  Eventually Seumas returned with a few pieces of the soft manila paper that Dominic had gotten for Caitlin to crayon on. ‘Thanks,’ he said calmly, as he settled back with his coffee and picked up a pencil.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I said.

  ‘Nothing,’ he answered, lightly sketching.

  ‘If you’re drawing me, stop,’ I said sharply. ‘It makes me self-conscious.’

  ‘Then I’ll draw you self-conscious,’ he said, smiling, and stopping to sip from his cup. He continued with it, his eyes on me more than the paper, his hands appearing to go about their own purpose entirely.

  As he drew, he talked, mostly questions. Mostly about me. He asked about Dominic, too, casually, but with a steady persistence. Perhaps he was trying to ascertain the depth of our relationship. If he was, he didn’t learn much. I didn’t really have the answer to that question, and if I had, I wouldn’t have told Seumas Cameron.

  Still, there was nothing he said that I could call prying; only the genuine curiosity of a man who was interested in people. And that was Seumas. He had a beautiful enthusiasm for people, a wide, open willingness to understand them.

  I knew he was interested in me; he made no secret of that. But for all that, whatever he thought of Dominic and me, there was no trace of resentment, or jealousy, or disapproval. He would take us as he found us; or leave us be.

  I was grateful. I found him a receptive listener and I needed someone to talk to. Of course, I said nothing about what really worried me; my conversation that morning with Dominic was hardly the sort to share with strangers.

  Still, Seumas was sensitive and curious, and being that, he could not have left me that afternoon without realizing that something was not right at Sron Ban.

  He laid his pencil down on the table, beside his empty cup, and stood up. I shifted Caitlin, who sniffled but didn’t wake, and got up, too, saying, ‘Okay, let me see, now you’ve done it.’

  He set the paper on the table and turned it so I could see. He had called me a madonna; now he had drawn me as a madonna, with wide solemn eyes and the child’s head on my shoulder.

  ‘Oh, Seumas,’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t have done that. I’m not like that.’

  ‘I see you like that.’

  I smiled and shook my head. ‘No, it’s not right. But,’ I added softly, ‘it’s so beautiful.’

  ‘The beauty is here,’ he said, touching my face. Then he said goodbye and went out into the sunshine, shaking his hair back, like the mane of a lion.

  I stood at the window, watching him walk, happy and jaunty, down the road. I had learned that afternoon that there was more to Seumas Cameron than hippie clown, but I still had no idea how very much more, indeed.

  I set the drawing on the table, leaning it against the jug of flowers. Then I carried Caitlin upstairs and put her down, still sleeping, on her bed.

  I heard a car drive up and the slamming of doors. There were quick footsteps on the gravel walk, the door opened, and Dominic called, oddly harshly, ‘Caroline, are you there?’

  I shut Caitlin’s door behind me and stepped out onto the landing. Dominic stood in the doorway, and Kevin McGuire was with him.

  They both watched me bleakly and silently as I came down the narrow stairs.

  ‘What is it?’ I said.

  ‘Was Seumas Cameron here just now?’ Dominic demanded. ‘We saw him down the road.’

  I was aware that not only he but McGuire also was watching me intently for my answer. I stopped, my hand still on the curve of the wooden banister.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, puzzled, ‘he was here.’

  Kevin McGuire swore and started to speak, but Dominic waved him silent with one hand.

  ‘What did he want?’ Dominic asked carefully.

  ‘He wanted to see you.’

  He glanced through the open door, taking in the table, with the empty cups and the jug of flowers. Turning quickly back to me, he said, ‘Was he in here?’

  ‘In the house?’ I asked. ‘Of course he was.’

  ‘Why?’ he demanded.

  ‘I asked him in,’ I said simply. ‘I asked him in for coffee.’

  Kevin McGuire laughed shortly, a sarcastic unpleasant sound.

  ‘Damn it, woman,’ Domin
ic said, ‘what right had you to let him in here?’

  I gripped the banister hard, angry that he would speak this way to me with Kevin McGuire snickering there behind him. I said as calmly as I could, ‘I didn’t think you’d have any objection.’

  ‘Do you just let anyone in here?’ he demanded fiercely. ‘This is my house, woman, not yours.’

  ‘He said he wanted to see you,’ I said, defending myself. ‘I assumed he was a friend of yours.’

  Suddenly Kevin McGuire stopped laughing to himself and got very serious. He stepped between me and Dominic, and with his back to me said, ‘Look, he asked me this morning where you’d be and I told him you’d be at the distillery. So why does he come looking for you here?’

  Dominic shook his head, thinking. ‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ he said to McGuire. ‘Maybe he thought he’d meet me coming back. He almost did, after all.’

  Kevin McGuire laughed again. ‘You’re too bloody trusting,’ he said coldly. I got the feeling they had completely dismissed me.

  ‘Stephen knows him,’ Dominic returned.

  ‘Stephen knew him a long time ago. And even then, he was bolshie. A lot bolshier than the rest of them.’

  ‘Well,’ Dominic said grimly, ‘isn’t that just what you want?’

  ‘The others are sheep,’ Kevin growled. ‘I can handle sheep. Seumas Cameron thinks too much. He isn’t quite the happy flower child you think he is.’

  It didn’t mean anything to me. I suppose that’s why they spoke so freely in front of me; in riddles that I didn’t understand.

  The only thing I did understand was that somehow asking Seumas Cameron in for coffee was about the worst thing I could have done, in both their eyes.

  ‘All right,’ Dominic said finally, ‘we’ll talk later. I’ll give you those papers tomorrow.’ It was a brief dismissal.

  ‘Sure,’ said Kevin, ‘sure. And in the meantime, you see if you can persuade your woman to stop entertaining strange men at Sron Ban.’

  ‘Damn you,’ Dominic shouted, catching Kevin by one arm and slamming him against the door. Upstairs Caitlin woke to the sound and wailed.

  ‘Will you stop it,’ I shouted shrilly. ‘Please.’ Caitlin’s wail rose louder and I said, furious, ‘Now you’ve woken her up, as well.’