Surprises on the Scottish Isle (Coorie Castle Crafts #1)

Chapter 16

And so it began… Maybe Tara should have paused to consider what she was doing, but as it had been pointed out, both she and Cal were young (early thirties was still young, wasn’t it?) and single. The connection they’d once had was still there. It was love on her part, and although she wasn’t sure he still loved her, he’d told her he wished he’d never let her go, so she clung to that, even though it might be foolish.

Tara also thought she must be mellowing as she grew older. What had once been black and white, now had more shades of grey than the waters of the loch on a rainy day.

And hadn’t she made enough mistakes of her own? Poor Dougie, he hadn’t deserved to have her for a wife. But the past was the past, and the future was there to be moulded into something bright and new, if only she dared.

Tara had found the courage to kiss Cal, however fleeting the kiss had been, and Cal appeared to have found the courage to ask her out.

It wasn’t a date, as such. More of an ‘I fancy taking a hike to The Old Man of Storr, would you like to join me?’ type of date.

Cal told her it was the most famous and busiest mountain on the island. Although they wouldn’t be going right to the top, because that would involve crampons, helmets and proper climbing equipment, the average walker could get to the base of it relatively easily and still enjoy fantastic views.

That had been Cal’s sales pitch.

However, if Tara had realised beforehand quite how high it was and quite how unfit she was, she mightn’t have agreed to go with him.

The day had started easily enough, although getting up at four a.m. to be on the road by four thirty hadn’t been that easy.

‘Remind me, why the ungodly hour?’ she’d asked when she climbed into the passenger seat of his car, her eyes heavy with sleep and her limbs having not yet woken up properly.

‘Because it gets really busy. It’ll be better to get there early for the parking.’

Tara yawned. ‘I need a coffee.’

‘I’ve brought a flask. And some BLTs.’

‘What time did you get up?’ Tara was impressed, even if she did think Cal was off his rocker.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he said, his eyes on the road.

‘Too excited?’ she teased.

‘Something like that.’

There wasn’t much more talk for the next half an hour or so, until Cal indicated left and drove onto the car parking area, and even then, Tara didn’t have a great deal to say. She was too busy just enjoying being with him.

They’d fallen back into the easy way they used to have with one another, an ease she’d once taken for granted, and hope flared inside her. Maybe they did have a future together after all.

But there wasn’t time to think about that now, because when they exited the car and began walking up a gravel track, Tara got her first proper look at where they were headed and groaned.

‘Are we going up there ?’ ‘Up there’ was a huge lump of bare rock turrets towering above them.

‘Not right to the top, but almost. Isn’t it magnificent!’

‘Hmm.’ It was , but Tara wasn’t sure she’d make it. They hadn’t gone far and she was already breathing heavily. The track was easy underfoot, but steep, and they were already a few hundred feet above sea level. The view behind, of Rona, Raasay and beyond, would have been enough for her. She didn’t need to see it from the top.

But neither did she want Cal to think she was a lightweight, so she kept plodding ever upwards. When the gradient ramped up so did Tara’s determination not to stop for a rest, despite her aching thighs and burning lungs.

‘We’ve picked a good day for it,’ Cal said, stopping and turning around.

Tara halted, grateful for the respite. The sky was cloudless, and the sea was painted navy, sapphire and cornflower. The horizon was grey and purple, the distant peaks reaching for the heavens. But the sunlight didn’t make the bare rocks above the path any more appealing, and she wondered how much further it would be.

‘What’s that down there?’ Tara asked, hoping to keep Cal talking for a few minutes more to enable her to catch her breath.

‘Loch Leathan. See that island in the middle? Legend has it that there was a castle on it in the mid-1600s, but there’s no evidence of it now.’

He began walking again and Tara reluctantly followed. As though sensing she was struggling, he held out a hand and she took it gratefully. After that, the hike didn’t seem quite as strenuous.

At least, not until the gravel path turned into a muddy, uneven, rocky scramble.

‘Take your time,’ Cal advised. ‘There’s no rush. We don’t want to risk a twisted ankle.’

It was like climbing up a staircase made out of large boulders set into the mountain, and Cal had to help her over more than a few. By now it wasn’t only her thighs that ached. Her ankles, calves, knees and the muscles in her behind were all shouting out for her to stop. Still Tara pushed on. Or should she say dragged , because Cal was more or less hauling her up the steep slope.

But at some point, it wasn’t the gradient that was stealing her breath, it was the sight of the vast basalt columns above them. They were so close she was convinced they were going to topple on her. And then she was amongst them, those rocky fingers reaching heavenwards, framing the stunning view.

She drank it in for a long time, awestruck and humbled, until the need for the promised coffee became too great.

Leading her a short distance from the path, Cal found a flattish rock for them to sit on and dished out their breakfast. Never had a BLT tasted so good, and she sighed with contentment as she washed the sandwich down with rich, strong coffee. What a place to eat it!

‘This even beats the view of the loch from my living room window,’ she declared, sipping the last of her coffee. ‘Thank you for bringing me.’

‘You did brilliantly.’

‘For someone who only walks to the pub and back?’

‘Exactly!’

‘I need to do more of this kind of thing. It makes you feel alive.’

‘I call it soul food. Being in nature, in the mountains, and with views like this, feeds your soul. I always feel calm and at peace afterwards.’

‘I can see why. I could stay up here all day.’

‘Me, too, but unfortunately I have to get to work.’

‘Work?’ Tara had forgotten about the studio. She’d forgotten she had commissions to fulfil and a workshop to plan. All that mattered right now was the mountain, the view, and the man she was with.

So she kissed him again.

This time it started slow and light, a mere meeting of the lips, the warmth of his mouth, the lingering but not unpleasant taste of coffee, then his arms came around her, crushing her to him and the kiss deepened.

Instantly Tara was transported back in time and place. She was twenty again, madly in love and the future held so much promise.

It could again , her inner voice whispered as his tongue found hers, and she thought she would like that very much.

It seemed to be a day for being breathless, because when the kiss finally ended, she was breathing almost as hard as she had on the hike up. Her heart pounded just as much and her legs felt equally as weak, she discovered, when she tried to stand. Cal had to steady her, which resulted in another kiss. It was lucky it was still early, and few people were on the mountain to witness it.

‘We’d better start making our way down,’ Cal said, ending the kiss far too soon for Tara’s liking. ‘We should be back at Duncoorie by nine thirty at the latest – just in time for you to open up. If that’s what you’re planning on doing today.’

Tara hadn’t planned on doing anything in particular after the hike, even though Cal had advised her that they would only be out for part of the morning. The thought of sitting at her bench making tiny sofas didn’t appeal when all she could think about was Cal.

‘I don’t want to go back either,’ he said, as though reading her mind. ‘I would love nothing better than to spend the rest of the day with you.’

‘Doing what?’

His russet eyes darkened. ‘Whatever you like.’

Tara licked her lips. Her pulse pounded and her tummy fluttered. She knew exactly what she’d like to do, but kissing was one thing, making love was another thing entirely. A glorious, wonderful thing, that used to make her heart sing and her soul cry out with joy.

One day, she hoped to feel that again. And from the look in Cal’s eyes, Tara thought he might, too.

Cal was still feeling invigorated from his walk when he called in to

see Mhairi later that morning. She was in her parlour, which also

doubled as an office, and when she saw him, she informed him that she

would like to do a walk-through of the estate. Not all the castle’s

grounds, obviously, because Mhairi, although fit and active for her age,

was nevertheless an eighty-something lady who would probably struggle on

the more rugged areas. For others, such as the maze and the woodland

trail, she would use the golf buggy, which Cal drove.

Driving it was fun, although he didn’t do it often. ‘Where do you want to start?’ he asked.

Mhairi was dressed in a tweed hat, a Barbour jacket, corduroy trousers and a pair of smart Wellington boots without the slightest hint of mud on them. Her outfit was appropriate for a misty, drab day. However, the morning was bright and warm, and Cal hoped she wouldn’t bake.

He handed her into the golf buggy as she said, ‘The duck pond first, then the children’s play area. I don’t think we need to go through the maze, do you?’

Cal shook his head. Paul had trimmed all the hedges last week, so he knew the maze was in good condition.

‘Then I’d like to see how the rewilding is going,’ she added.

One of the first things Mhairi’s father did when he bought the estate was to plant native trees, and the woodland was now fairly well established. However, it would take many generations to restore it to its former state, before Skye’s trees had been felled for wood, fuel and timber and to create open land for cattle and sheep to graze.

The castle’s wooded area wasn’t particularly large, but Cal adhered to Mhairi’s planting programme, and the area was carefully managed.

By the time Cal had driven Mhairi around the more accessible parts of her property, they were ready for some refreshment.

‘I think we’ll stop at the cafe,’ Mhairi announced. ‘I haven’t seen Gillian for a while. Then I want to visit the gift shop and the studios.’

After the drinks were ordered – coffee for Cal, Earl Grey for Mhairi – Cal took out his tablet and made a note that one of the lights in the kitchen area needed replacing. The note joined all the others that Cal had jotted down this morning. Maintenance and repairs were an ongoing fact of life for an estate manager, and the job list never seemed to shrink.

Mhairi blew on her tea, saying, ‘How is Tara settling in? I see she sold a doll’s house recently.’

It never ceased to amaze Cal how well-informed Mhairi was. Nothing escaped her notice, and she had all eight fingers and both thumbs firmly on the castle’s pulse.

‘She’s very skilled,’ Cal said. ‘Her work is top-notch.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’ Mhairi peered over the rim of her bone china cup.

‘I think she’s finding her feet.’

‘With your help?’

‘Of course; that’s my job.’

‘It’s not your job to kiss her.’

Cal was mortified. ‘I assure you my relationship with Tara won’t affect my work.’

‘I didn’t think it would for one minute. I’m pleased to see that you’ve reconnected. Bonnie likes her. She can’t stop talking about her. When is Yvaine moving?’

Relieved that Mhairi was no longer focusing on him, Cal said, ‘Sometime before the start of next term. She’s having Lenn’s house remodelled over the summer.’

‘Like a cat marking its territory,’ Mhairi said. ‘I’m not surprised that she wants to make some changes. Didn’t Lenn used to live there with his ex-wife?’

‘I believe so.’

‘It’s not easy being second,’ Mhairi observed, her gaze keen, and Cal winced.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered so much that Yvaine had also been Cal’s second if he’d been honest with her from the start, but Cal’s mum telling him that Yvaine probably knew he hadn’t loved her the way a man should love his wife – with all his heart – had made him re-evaluate their relationship.

And now here she was, second again, Lenn’s ex-wife having taken the number one slot.

But Lenn was in his mid-thirties, so it was inevitable there would have been other women before Yvaine.

His inner voice piped up, There wasn’t another woman before Tara.

Then it occurred to him that Mhairi asking him about Yvaine’s move to Portree wasn’t changing the subject at all. The conversation was still about him and Tara.

He had a feeling that the conversation, for him at least, would always be about him and Tara, because it always had been.