“This must be the daftest idea we’ve ever had,” Katya hissed at him as they made their way to the two empty seats Brodie’s brothers had saved for them right in the middle of the hall.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Brodie said. “And that’s saying a lot. Remember the time we freewheeled down a mountain on our bikes? That seemed like such a great idea when we were eight. We’re lucky we didn’t die.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it.” No, their journey toward the loch at breakneck speed had been slowed by fields of heather and several large bramble bushes. When they’d eventually limped home, they’d been scratched to hell and bleeding everywhere.
Spotting her mother sitting in a seat that put her directly under one of the overhead spotlights, Katya shook her head. Even in the middle of a crowd, Delia managed to find a way to shine.
Brodie waved at her mum. “Do you think she seeks out the dramatic spots, or do they find her?”
“Oh, she looks for them.” In her Streetcar Named Desire look—fifties dress, pearls, perfectly coiffed hair, silk gloves, and a lace fan—Delia was dressed for drama tonight. “It’s nice to see Dad finally out of mourning dress, though.” Wearing green and yellow tartan, Fraser sat at his wife’s side.
Smiling at Brodie’s parents—positioned in the front row next to the women of Knit or Die, who had their knitting out—Katya took a seat beside Darach.
She bumped his arm with her shoulder. “How’s it hanging?”
“I’m not talking to you.” He continued to stare straight ahead, arms folded and a scowl on his face.
“Aw, come on, Darach, this isn’t my fault.” Mostly.
He glared down at her. “Of course, it’s your fault. It’s always your fault when you two are together. He’s just the muscle for your master plans.”
“To be fair,” Katya felt the need to point out, “half the time, he comes up with ideas on his own.”
“You’re as bad as each other.” Darach turned his grumpy face back to the front of the hall, where Dougal—the town’s unofficial mayor—had his head together with the council secretary.
“Would it help if I promised to make it up to you?” She batted her lashes as he gave her the side-eye.
“How?”
“I’m working on that part,” she said honestly.
“Aye, well, you can get back to me when you’re done. Then we’ll talk.”
Bain leaned forward to look around Darach. The fool was grinning. “If it’s any consolation, I completely forgive you, and I have no problem with talking to you.”
“Sit your arse back,” Darach snapped. “She’s not going to put in a good word for you with Denise. That girl doesn’t want you. Let it go.”
“And another dream cruelly destroyed by my uncaring brothers,” Bain said woefully as he leaned back into his seat.
Giving up on both of them, she glanced past Brodie to Conall and Kade. They smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, which made her laugh. Seemed she’d managed to upset only one brother this time.
A tap on her shoulder had Katya turning to find Denise. “Are you sure about this?”
Katya nodded. “I don’t see any other option.”
“Nor do I,” Denise said softly.
“Order, order!” Dougal bellowed from the front of the hall, making Katya turn back around.
Brodie’s hand immediately found hers and squeezed tight. When she smiled up at him, he pointed to the chairs near the far wall. Catherine Baxter sat next to her farm manager, looking most pleased with herself.
A sick, falling sensation had Katya rubbing her stomach, the urge to vomit strong. Fortunately, it passed. The woman mystified her. How could anyone allow themselves to become that bitter and twisted? Why would you want to live like that? And then it occurred to her—sometimes the only thing people had to hold on to was their hatred and anger. Sometimes they were too afraid of what they’d have without it that they never let it go.
Katya really didn’t want to be like that. “I forgive you for everything that happened with us,” she whispered to Brodie. “There’s no need for penance. As far as I’m concerned it’s done and forgotten.”
“Tell you what”—his eyes sparkled with mischief—“throw in forgiveness for every stupid thing I’ll do in the future, and we have a deal.”
“Not on your life.” Bloody chancer.
“Order!” Dougal boomed as he pounded the lectern with the wooden gavel, making the new young vicar beside him wince.
Behind him, Caroline McInnes—the town’s unofficial secretary and the most organized woman Katya had ever met—got to her feet. She walked over to the lectern, took the gavel from Dougal, and leaned into the microphone. “The meeting is about to begin. Please be quiet.”
There was immediate silence, which had Dougal glaring at the crowd.
“I’m not sure I can wait for the ‘any more business’ part of the agenda,” Katya confessed. “My stomach’s already doing somersaults.”
“If it gets too bad, we’ll interrupt and do our bit early,” he whispered back.
Oh, Dougal would not like that. “Only if we have to.”
“First item on the agenda,” Dougal held up a piece of paper and read from it. “Kit—sorry, Catherine Baxter would like to discuss the condition of the road leading up to Baxter Farm. Catherine, the floor is yours.” Dougal gestured to the microphone, set up on a stand facing the platform.
As Catherine strode over to the mic, Dougal took an old-fashioned stopwatch out of the pocket of his lime-green Harris Tweed waistcoat—which, for some reason, he’d teamed with a pink shirt. “I will be timing you,” he told Catherine. “Please do not go over your allotted time.”
Catherine hadn’t changed out of her twinset and pearls, and the sight made Katya’s blood boil. It took every ounce of strength she possessed not to erupt with rage at the woman who’d made it her mission to ruin Katya’s life. Instead, she tried to concentrate on what Catherine was saying.
“As you’re aware”—Catherine’s sharp voice came over the speakers—“the private road up to Baxter Farm is owned by my family. In recent years, there has been a dramatic increase in traffic along that road—especially seeing as it now links up to the main road. The road wasn’t designed for that much use and has become littered with potholes and debris. I would like to file a motion asking that council funds be used for repairs. I fail to see why I should foot the bill for what is now essentially a public road.”
“I object!” Katya was on her feet before she’d even realized she intended to stand.
Catherine turned and smirked at her. “Well, you are quite objectionable.”
In a panic, Katya glanced down at Brodie. “I couldn’t wait,” she hissed. “She annoys me.”
“Fine.” With a sigh, he stood beside her, holding her hand. He raised his voice and said, “Apparently, Katya objects.”
There was a ripple of laughter from everyone but the American singer Josh McInnes, who was wolfing down popcorn and staring at them as though they were his own personal reality TV show.
Dougal leaned into the mic, which he didn’t need in the first place because they could hear his voice in Glasgow on a normal day. “This isn’t the way we do things. If you object to Catherine’s proposal, file it with the council to be considered before the next meeting.”
“That isn’t what I object to,” Katya said loudly.
“Then, for goodness’ sake, what do you object to?” Judging by the purple hue of his face, Dougal was fast losing patience.
“I object to Kitty Baxter as a whole.”
This caused raucous laughter.
“Settle down, settle down,” Dougal called but was ignored. He grabbed the gavel again and smacked it on the lectern. “I said order!” The gavel broke in two, and a piece flew past Caroline’s head.
“Sorry, Vicar,” Dougal said. “I’ll replace it.”
“I hope you’re going to apologize to Caroline too,” Josh McInnes said. “And FYI, my wife isn’
t as easy to replace, so maybe watch where you’re throwing things in future.”
“Sorry, Caroline,” Dougal muttered.
“That’s the third one this year,” somebody commented from the crowd as the room started to quieten.
“You can’t object to a person,” Dougal told Katya. “Now, sit down and stop interrupting council business.”
“Actually,” Brodie piped up, “we have something to say to everyone, and we might as well do it now, seeing as Katya’s stolen the floor anyway.”
“This is ridiculous,” Catherine said into the microphone. “My issue has been on this agenda for a month. Are you really going to let someone disrupt the order of things purely because they have ‘something to say’? Are we going to pander to every child who needs attention?”
“I need my own microphone,” Katya grumbled.
Like an answer to her prayer, a little old woman zoomed down the aisle on a mobility scooter. She wore a tartan muumuu, and a hairnet covered her practically bald hair.
“Here”—she thrust a mic at Katya—“you can use mine. I always bring my own because Dougal hogs the bloody thing.”
Katya gaped as she took the mic from Betty McLeod’s outstretched hand. “I thought you were dead.”
“People keep saying that to me,” the old woman grumbled. “There’s plenty of life in this old duck yet.” Then she zoomed away again, giving Catherine a one-fingered salute as she passed.
“I object,” Catherine snapped. “I have the floor, and she can’t have a microphone purely because she wants one.”
The mayor threw up his hands. “You object, she objects, everybody objects.”
“Dougal?” Katya called. “This will only take a minute, and then we’ll leave the building, and you can get on with things.” She took a deep breath. “Brodie and I are renewing our vows two weeks on Saturday at the Catholic church—sorry, Vicar—and everyone in town is invited.”
There was a mixed reaction to her announcement. The people who knew they were in a fake relationship appeared confused. Those who didn’t were excited. And Catherine Baxter looked disgusted.
Catherine grabbed the microphone off the stand and turned to face Katya. “If you think a fake ceremony will help your case with the judge, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Brodie took the mic from Katya’s hand. Which was probably a good thing, as she was about to swear at Catherine. Over the PA system of a Presbyterian church.
“There are one or two things we need to clear up,” Brodie said. “Some of you were told that Katya and I were faking our reunion to try to stop Kitty Baxter from taking back the land Ben gave us. That was true—the emphasis being on was. We’re now genuinely together and would like you all to celebrate with us during another wedding ceremony.” He flashed a boyish grin. “Seeing as we eloped last time, we feel we owe you a wedding anyway. Oh, and as the icing on the cake, you don’t need to bring us any presents.”
“This is ridiculous,” Catherine said. “I’m telling you, this won’t work. Look around you. Nobody believes you. You’re only making fools of yourselves. And truthfully, it doesn’t matter how far you take this, you don’t have a hope in hell of keeping my land.” Her smile was spiteful.
“We know,” Brodie said, causing gasps from the crowd. “That’s why we’re returning the deed.” He nodded to Conall, on the end of the row, who got up and took the piece of paper Brodie had passed down to him over to Catherine.
For once, Catherine Baxter had nothing to say.
Seeing their deed in Catherine’s hand made Katya want to howl in pain at the injustice of it all. That land didn’t belong to the Baxters—Ben had intended it for her and Brodie. He would have been disgusted at his daughter’s behavior and what she’d turned into. Swallowing down her anger, Katya fought to let it go, knowing it would only eat her alive. And then she’d end up like Kitty.
“What about your plane?” Dougal asked. “And the tourist flights?”
Brodie returned the mic to Katya and let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.
“We still plan to do that, but first…” She looked at Brodie, who nodded. “We’re going away together after the wedding. There’s a seven-seater World War Two seaplane we’d like to buy. Once we have that, we’ll find a place for the museum and set up flying tours from the loch itself.”
Brodie took the mic back. “We need the seaplane because Katya’s finally realized that taking only one tourist up at a time isn’t going to make us rich.”
The crowd burst out laughing, and Katya gave Brodie a look that she hoped made it clear payback was in his very near future.
“So that’s it,” Katya said as the laughter died down. “The land belongs to the Baxters again, we’re getting married again, and we’re off hunting planes…again.”
“No,” Brodie said, only for her ears. “Not again. This is our first time hunting together. And I have a feeling it won’t be our last.”
A warm feeling, originating from her heart, spread throughout her body and pushed out the resentment she felt toward Catherine. She might not know what the future held, but she knew it was going to be wonderful, because Brodie was by her side.
“Dougal,” Katya said into the mic. “That was all we had to say. We’re sorry for the interruption, and…eh…carry on.”
A roar filled with laughter, shouting, and chatter filled the hall as Katya and Brodie squeezed out of their row and headed for the exit. As they left, Brodie signaled to Conall that it was time to hand over the other piece of paper they’d asked him to give Catherine. Conall nodded while Katya pushed through the doors and out into the warm summer evening.
As they stood in the street in front of the church, someone called out their names, and when they turned, they weren’t at all surprised to find Catherine bearing down on them.
“Is it real?” She held up the document.
“Very,” Brodie said. “We found it tucked in with Natasha’s things.”
“You should also know,” Katya added, “that Ben and Natasha were never in love with each other and never had an affair. Ben was distant with his family because he was still dealing with the trauma he suffered in the war. That’s why he spent time with Natasha. They spoke about the war and it helped him. He loved your mother.”
Catherine gasped, clutching the divorce certificate to her chest.
Brodie tugged Katya into his body as if to shelter her. “We have boxes of letters, notebooks, and other information Katya’s collected over the years. They detail what your father went through during the war and how he coped with the lingering trauma afterward.”
Catherine swallowed hard. “May I…may I see those?”
“Sure,” Brodie drawled. “They’ll be in the museum when it opens.”
Catherine blinked, looking confused. “When will that be?”
“Hard to tell.” Katya shrugged. “We lost the land we planned to build it on, so I guess we’ll just have to see what we can find when we return from plane hunting.”
Catherine’s mouth pursed. “I see. This is punishment for being mistaken about our families?”
“No.” Katya felt suddenly weary. “Your punishment is knowing you made a woman’s family suffer for decades when all she did was help your father deal with his PTSD. Now, if you don’t mind, we have a wedding and a trip to plan.”
They turned their backs on Catherine and started down the street toward the loch.
“I’ll return the land,” Catherine shouted after them.
“No, thanks,” Brodie and Katya answered at the same time as they walked away.
At the bottom of the street, the water glistened in the evening sun.
“Do you think I could learn to fly?” Brodie asked as they walked hand in hand.
“I don’t see why not.” Katya grinned at him. “After all, they sent a monkey into space.”
“Oh, you’ll pay for that.” Brodie tugged her to him.
She jerked out of his hold and was running before h
e could catch her. “Last one to the loch has to buy dinner,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“You won’t win this time,” he called after her.
But Katya felt like she already had.
Preorder Invertary Too, book 2, now!
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A demolitions expert. A fixer for hire. And an explosive attraction they might not survive.
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Veronica Ross is the person you call when you have a problem you just can't fix. She's smart, she's sassy, and she doesn't take no for an answer.
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Her latest client's problem is right in the middle of the Scottish Highlands. Which works out great, because there's a building that needs blown up and it just so happens that the best demolitions expert in the country lives in a small Highland town. Bain MacGregor might be retired from his...um...extra-curricular activities to work with his brothers’ building company, but Veronica can be very persuasive when she's on a job. Which means, either Bain comes out of retirement to help her, or she'll make his life a living hell until he does.
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Bain doesn’t stand a chance against Veronica and her…er…charms…
If you enjoyed reading Come Fly With Me, you’ll love reading the first Invertary series. And the best place to start with that is book 1 - Lingerie Wars! Read on for an excerpt.
Lingerie Wars - Invertary Book 1
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Lingerie Wars, Invertary Book 1
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CHAPTER ONE
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Lake Benson’s midlife crisis lasted exactly twenty-four hours. In that time he quit his career with the army and bought a lingerie shop. All things considered, he was glad the crisis hadn’t lasted longer.
“I told you,” whined his little sister. “I can do this myself. I have a business plan. You’re only interfering because you’re bored and don’t know what to do with yourself.”
Come Fly With Me Page 29