Chapter 5 Taran
July, This Year
Istared at Quinn’s daughter, Heather, trying to figure out how to answer her question.
Did I miss Glasgow?
I missed my job and my coworkers. But Glasgow had never felt like home.
Not like here. I couldn’t have borne my grief back in Glasgow. Being here made me feel closer to Mum. And I’d forgotten how much the sea at my door strangely grounded me.
“No, I don’t,” I finally answered.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Quinn stiffen at my answer. Felt his attention intensify.
It was difficult to be here with him and his children, but I found it hard to say no to his daughter’s invitation. Heather’s curiosity made me wonder if she knew more than she let on about my and her dad’s history. If Quinn hadn’t told her, had Kiera? She looked so much like her mother.
And Angus … goodness, when he smiled, it was like revisiting a memory. He was so much like Quinn at that age. It hurt. It hurt so badly because when I was Heather’s age, I thought I’d be sitting here on this beach that meant so much to us … but with our children.
Why did it still hurt so much?
Heather cocked her head in thought, as if she could see everything I felt, but I kept my face perfectly blank. “Really?”
“Aye, really.”
“I’m off to Glasgow for uni and I can’t wait.”
I glanced at Quinn, unable to help myself. He stared at the sandwich in his hand as if he couldn’t bear to take another bite. This time, the sharp sensation in my chest was for him. Heather leaving for school had to be hard. Maybe even a familiar pain.
“You should go out and see what’s beyond the island,” I told his daughter.
“And maybe you’ll prefer life in the lowlands.
Maybe you’ll travel beyond even those borders.
But it might surprise you how much you’ll miss the sea air.
The community. In Glasgow, if my heating was on the blink, I had to wait for days for someone to come out and fix it.
Here, there’s always someone to help you.
Even if it’s just to offer you a warm place to stay. ”
I could feel Quinn staring at me again.
Heather narrowed her eyes. “Is that what you really believe?”
“Aye.”
“Then how come this is the first time you’ve been home since you left?”
“Heather,” Quinn clipped out.
She blanched at his disapproving tone, but I waved my hand. “It’s fine. I … uh … I had a job I loved there,” I hedged.
“I miss it here,” Angus announced after swallowing a massive bite of food.
His sister scowled. “That’s not what you said yesterday.”
“Yesterday I was missing hockey practice with my friends.”
It was then I remembered Quinn’s children no longer lived on the island with him. According to Tierney, they lived with Kiera on the mainland.
I would be lying if I didn’t admit I was rabidly curious to know why their marriage broke down, but it was none of my business.
“Missing one practice isn’t going to ruin you.” Quinn held out another sandwich to his son.
Angus took it with a “Nuh-uh.”
“Oban isn’t exactly the big city, but at least our friends are there. Well, mine are in Paris.” Heather shot her dad a look that could kill.
I instantly surmised she wanted to be in Paris with her friends and not on Glenvulin with her dad.
Poor Quinn.
“I have friends here still.”
“Like who?” his sister practically snarled at her brother.
Oof. Clearly, I’d gotten Heather’s good side. Why were her brother and father getting her bad mood?
“Like Finn.” Angus shrugged. “We’re going to hang out while I’m here. After he gets back from a fishing thing with his dad and Aird.”
“My Finn?” I hadn’t realized my nephew was friends with Angus.
“Oh, aye, right.” Quinn’s son nodded. “Forgot you were his aunt.”
Well, shit. Didn’t that sting?
“You’re just sucking up to Dad now.” Heather huffed. “Yesterday you hated it here. There’s nothing to do.”
“You could help me volunteer at the LSLS.” Quinn gave his daughter a pointed warning look. “Give back a little before you venture off to uni.”
LSLS. The Leth Sholas Lifeboat Service? “Are you volunteering at night?” I asked before Heather could respond. Annie was the full-time volunteer station manager during the day. The community chipped in, taking turns to run the station at night.
Quinn looked at me, his blue eyes intense as he searched my face.
When we were younger, his cheeks had been smooth.
Before we broke up, he’d stopped shaving, but he’d never gotten to a full beard.
Not like now. Between his fairly well-groomed beard and the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, his boyish handsomeness had roughened into a rugged sexiness that bothered me on multiple levels.
“Any time they need me,” he said. “Annie is retiring. And we can’t afford to hire anyone, so we’re struggling to keep it going, to be honest.”
That piqued my interest and my dismay. “There’s no funding?”
“Not enough. The shop owners have started adding the choice to donate to the LSLS to their pay machines, but it isn’t enough. Priority goes to the volunteer ambulance service. We might lose the LSLS, which would be a damn shame, considering how many rescues it makes in the year.”
Well, that just wouldn’t do at all. My heartbeat picked up in anticipation as I asked, “Who is in charge of the funding?”
“Aodhan.” He referred to the owner of the Fisherman’s Lantern and many a rental property on the island. He was also on the community council.
Irritation thrummed through me. “So, what you’re saying is that Leth Sholas has rented an entire building to a global charity that funds overseas social issues, but there’s no store for its local charity so we can raise the funds to keep it running?”
A familiar gleam entered Quinn’s eyes. “I didn’t say that, but aye, that’s the right of it. I sense Aodhan’s about to hear a little something about it too.”
A sharp flare burned under my sternum.
Because even after all this time, Quinn still knew some things about me.
“You’d be right.” Despite my annoyance, a weight lifted off my chest.
I realized it was my lack of purpose. It drifted off into the sky, leaving me on the beach having a picnic with my ex and his children.
A scenario that would have filled me with dread just a few days ago.
But now I itched with purpose, a plan forming in my mind as Heather let go of her bad mood long enough to engage in conversation with me about Glasgow and books and music. She seemed so desperate to be grown up.
I wanted to tell her to slow down.
To enjoy what she had now.
Because before you knew it … time would come to take it all away.