Chapter 15 Quinn
“Now, you’re sure you’ve got everything?” I handed Angus his backpack.
This was the part I hated most.
Saying goodbye to the kids at the ferry port.
“Aye.” Angus nodded. “All good.”
“For the millionth time, we have everything, Dad.” Heather smirked and then wound her arms around my neck.
I hugged her probably a wee bit too tightly. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
Heather pulled back, searching my face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Was it?
Since that night with Taran in the station, I’d felt like I was barely holding the pieces of my life together. “I know, flower.”
My daughter frowned. “You’ve been sad for the last few days, and I don’t think it’s just about me leaving for uni.”
The urge to protect her from my feelings was so inherent I almost shrugged off her words and told her I was fine.
But I saw the tiny frown of disappointment etch between her brows as she read me.
Angus was distracted watching the ferry crew anchor the boat, so I murmured to Heather, “I tried to talk to Taran. It didn’t go well. ”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Heather … it was bad. It was really bad.”
“If Taran can upset my very stoic father this much, then she really means something to you. She matters. So, you keep trying. Like me. Hazel got mad at me on the phone for supposedly not trusting her, but am I going to let that sit between us? No. As soon as I get off this bloody boat, I am going to find my girlfriend and fix things. Because she matters.”
“You’re smarter than me. We knew this already.”
She chuckled. “Well, learn from me, Dad. Because when I come back here, I need you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
Emotion thickened my throat at the slight wobble in her words. “I’m happy already.”
“No.” Heather studied me thoughtfully. “I know you love me and Angus, and I know we make you happy. But looking back on everything, I don’t think you’ve ever been really happy our whole lives, Dad.
And now I know why.” She gestured toward the coffee shop.
“I think your happiness is in there. You’re just going to have to work for it. ”
I was at once knocked off my feet by her observation and amused by her cheeky tone at the end. “I said it was bad, Heather … I didn’t say I was giving up.”
Her answering grin made me feel about ten feet tall. Then she smacked my arm and said, “Attaboy!”
My mock unimpressed look sent her into a fit of giggles, and the sound elicited a bittersweet ache in my chest. In September, I’d drive her to Glasgow and leave her there to start her life.
Without me. My house would no longer ring with the sound of those giggles or her shrieking at Angus over some misdemeanor or Angus yelling her name in a whine of outrage.
That time was almost past.
The ground shifted beneath my feet as if I stood on the ferry instead of onshore.
“Dad?”
“All good,” I promised her because I was determined I would be.
“Dad, you didn’t say anything about the games.” Angus came running over, a deep frown furrowing his brow.
“The games?”
“It’s the Highland Games next week. I just saw a poster.”
“I know.”
Heather made a face at her brother. “Why do you think Dad was practicing with the band last night? He’s playing the end-of-games’ ceilidh.”
“Are you not competing?” My son looked confused.
The Highland Games had an entire event dedicated to pipe bands. However, the pipe bands that traveled onto Glenvulin to perform were three times our size or bigger. There was no competing against a full pipe band. “No, not this time.”
“Well, I suppose if you’re not playing, I’m not missing anything. But I do like it when they throw the massive logs. You should do that!”
Angus referred to the caber toss. “Pretty sure there’s an art to caber tossing.”
“Fine. Guess I’ll be okay missing it.”
I experienced that wee gnaw of regret that it wasn’t in my power to make sure Angus was here for the Highland Games.
After helping my kids on board with their luggage, I hugged and kissed them goodbye and walked back down the gangplank with a clenched jaw and an anguished gut.
It didn’t matter how many times I’d done this over the last two years, it was fucking brutal.
I waited for fifteen minutes for the rest of the passengers to board and for the ferry to leave.
It had just pulled away from the harbor when I felt a nudge against my upper leg.
Glancing down, I found Akiva, Ramsay’s Alaskan malamute, rubbing her face against me.
She’d never been a particularly affectionate dog, however it seemed Tierney had not only softened Ramsay but Akiva too. I petted her furry head in thanks.
“I tried to get here before the kids left.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find Ramsay approaching.
McRae was a big guy, an inch or two taller than me, but so broad of shoulder he appeared taller.
I supposed he was intimidating with his size and pale gray eyes that seemed to cut right through you.
But I’d felt a kinship with him, and for whatever reason, he trusted me when he didn’t trust a soul.
I was the only person on Glenvulin, other than Tierney, who knew Ramsay was an ex-operative for MI6.
It was difficult to wrap my head around the fact that one of my best friends was once an agent who’d gathered intelligence for the British Secret Service for fourteen years.
He had some very scary enemies, which was why we didn’t share any photographs or footage of our pipe band.
And any footage that showed up online “mysteriously” disappeared.
Cammie had grown more and more suspicious about it, but Tierney had become good at deflecting the conversation anytime it came up.
Some might say he was being overly cautious, but then most people didn’t know a man from his past and a small group of mercenaries landed on his island last year with the intention of killing him and Tierney.
He, and to my shock, Tierney, who was a crack shot, took care of the problem, but it brought it home to me that Ramsay was not being paranoid.
There was a real reason he’d changed his name and moved to the middle of nowhere.
I was more honored than ever knowing he trusted me with the truth.
Ramsay clapped my back as he approached. “Wanted to be here for you.”
“Better you weren’t.” I turned back to watch the ferry move farther away. “It’s embarrassing to watch a grown man cry.”
My friend grunted at my joke. “Cry all you want, mate.”
“It’s totally and utterly shite.”
“I know.” Ramsay crossed his arms over his chest. “But you don’t know what the future holds. One day they might come back forever.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“How were things with Heather?”
“Good. It turns out she’s gay.” I knew I could trust Ramsay with that information, and it wouldn’t make its way around Leth Sholas. His expression registered no shock or surprise or anything, really. “All she wanted was to be able to talk to me about it.”
“And now you’re good.”
“And now we’re good.” I scrubbed a hand over my beard. “Heather knows about Taran. She wants me to try harder with her.”
“Aye, well, I haven’t forgotten the promise you made me. We had a deal.”
He referred to the deal we’d made last year when Ramsay had fucked up with Tierney. He’d made me promise that if he fixed things with Tierney, I’d try to fix things with Taran.
“I did try.” I glanced mournfully over my shoulder at Macbeth’s Pages & Perks.
“She … I fucked up even bigger than I ever knew. I ruined her life.” I forced myself to meet Ramsay’s gaze and nodded, barely holding back my emotion.
“I ruined her fucking life, McRae, and … I don’t know how to fix that. ”
“How did you ruin her life? What did she say?”
Checking to make sure there were no ears too close to overhear, I faced him.
“It wasn’t getting Kiera pregnant that hurt her.
It was me just … I told her I was marrying Kiera.
No discussion. No Let’s talk about it. I didn’t even fucking consider choosing her and Heather.
She said I couldn’t possibly love her the way she loved me.
That’s why she hates me. She eviscerated me the other night. And I don’t blame her.”
My stomach felt sick thinking about the look on her face in the lifeboat station. “Maybe I’m just a selfish bastard who made his bed and needs to lie in it.”
Ramsay exhaled heavily. “Problem is … no one is still that angry and hurt over someone who doesn’t matter to them.
If she’s mad at you for choosing to stay with Kiera, then maybe she doesn’t understand where your head was at back then.
Does she know you spent your entire marriage missing her?
That you regret marrying Kiera? That the ghost of Taran Macbeth ruined your fucking marriage, your life? ”
I bit out a curse, shaking my head as I stared back out at the water. “No. I’ve never told her that. I’ve only just recently realized I am very bad at letting people know what I’m thinking.”
“Bullshit. You were full of opinions when Tierney and I were dancing around each other.”
“Aye, I mean, what I’m, like, you know … feeling.”
Ramsay’s lips twitched at my discomfort. “Ah. Aye, you are quite buttoned up when it comes to yourself. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I’ve always liked you.” He slapped me good-naturedly on the back.
A smile curled the corners of my mouth. “Fuck off, you prick.”
“Maybe Taran needs to know all of the truth.”
“I don’t know if she’ll believe me.”
“You know I’m not the best at talking about feelings, but it sounds like Taran deserves to know the decision wasn’t easy for you, even if you’re scared she doesn’t believe you. She deserves to know why you made that decision.”
“I told her why back then. I told her I didn’t want to be my dad.”
“And she knew how badly your dad leaving affected you?”
I opened my mouth to say yes and then stopped. Truthfully, I hadn’t ever expressed that to her. Taran had accused me of never opening up to her when we were kids.
Fuck.
Ramsay seemed to read my thoughts. “You need to tell her your side of the story. Pride be damned.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. That didn’t mean I wasn’t apprehensive about facing Taran after our last devastating encounter.
“How are the Keatons?” I changed the subject, enquiring after the house we were building for an English couple who’d bought a plot on the west coast of the island for their holiday home.
We’d won the bid for the build and were nearing completion.
I’d been off-site for most of the two weeks of Heather and Angus’s visit.
“Aye, we’re on schedule. How did the bid go on the development?
” Ramsay referred to a project that had come up on the other side of the island.
A developer bought a parcel of land and gained planning permission for five homes to be built, and the contract had come up for tender—for bid. I’d put in my application a week ago.
“Not heard yet. The work won’t start until next March, anyway.”
“There might be something in the pipeline sooner, but no guarantees.”
“Oh?”
Ramsay gestured out to the water. “Isle of Scaris. Word has it the Montrose brothers are in dispute with their contractors. They might be on the lookout for a new company to finish the project.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s left to do?”
“By the sounds of it, fix their shoddy workmanship and finish the hotel.”
“How do you know about this?”
“One of the brothers was in the Lantern at the weekend, bemoaning the mess they’ve made.”
“Okay. Keep your ear out.” It would be a hassle to travel back and forth to Scaris, but if the money was good, it could keep us all going until the development project in spring. If we won the bid.
“Where you off to now?”
“Aodhan wanted to talk to me about something, so the Lantern. You?”
Ramsay looked upward toward Leth Sholas Guest House. “Think I’ll see if my woman needs help with anything. We still on for band practice tomorrow?”
“Aye. We need a few more practices in.” At the end of the weeklong event, the council hosted a ceilidh—a social event of traditional Scottish dancing and folk music, like our pipe band—to celebrate the end of the games.
“Tierney’s trying to convince me she should participate in the hammer throw.” Ramsay snorted. “Last time she threw a hammer she nearly took down a wall.”
Confused, I raised an eyebrow. “When?”
His eyes danced with laughter and he shook his head. “Never mind. On that note, I’m going to see what mischief my woman is currently up to.”
A prickle of envy flickered over me before it disappeared entirely. If anyone deserved to find their person, it was Ramsay McRae. “I’ll text you later.”
“Or not,” he called back over his shoulder as he and Akiva crossed the street.
I chuckled under my breath because Ramsay hated phones. He basically hated any way for someone to communicate with him without his permission. Unfortunately for him, we ran a company together, so I needed to be able to contact him.
A few minutes later, I found Aodhan behind the bar in the Lantern. “You wanted to talk?”
“Say goodbye to the bairns, then?” he asked instead as he came out from behind the bar, accompanied by the clickety-clack of Shakespeare’s claws on the hardwood.
I wasn’t surprised Aodhan knew my children had left for Oban. The man’s knowledge of the comings and goings on the island was practically occult. “Aye.”
“Aye, well, I’ve got a distraction for you.
” He gestured for me to follow him out of the pub and onto Main Street.
“Do you see that empty piece of land?” Aodhan pointed down the street to the gap between the last row of terraced buildings opposite Glenvulin Whisky Distillery.
The distillery sat by the water, owned by a family who had grown so wealthy off the operation they’d inherited they no longer even lived on the island.
“What about it?”
“How quick do you think you could order and assemble a kit-built structure for a shop?”
“It depends how big and when you want it.”
“I think my question makes that fairly obvious.”
I raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm. “Being sweet to me like that isn’t going to make me answer any faster.”
The older man snorted. “Fair enough. But maybe this will. The building is for a charity shop to fund the Leth Sholas Lifeboat Service.” Aodhan looked me in the eyes and dealt his trump card. “And Taran Macbeth is the director of the charity.”
My gaze flew to Pages & Perks and then to the lot of land. “If it’s a fairly straightforward design, I have a contact with a kit company who could prioritize me.”
Aodhan held out his hand, wearing a smug smirk. “Then I believe you just won the bid to build the store.”
I shook my head, fighting back a smile.
Because the old bastard knew he’d given me more than a paycheck.
He’d given me a chance to be close to Taran.