Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
IN THE PAST
Ally
Yesterday’s long night of driving—I’d been diverted and had to take the whisky delivery south into England—should have left me exhausted, but I was pinging around my house like it was a pinball machine. I’d been given the rest of the day off and had no work until Monday, but I couldn’t settle.
Too much of my life was up in the air. Scarlet was coming tomorrow, and the day after, we’d get Cait. I’d never been the type who could chill when huge events were on the horizon. It drained too much of my attention. And that was already in short supply.
Taylor and Wasp had bought a stack of books for Cait, seeing as I didn’t have any of my own, and I lined them up on the bairn’s bedroom shelf.
I forced myself to sit still and read the first one out loud, using the coping strategies I’d developed years ago.
It was a farmyard tale, with a wee yellow duck.
I wanted to be able to read to my bairn.
It was painstakingly slow, getting through the ten or twelve pages, and the words leapt about despite their size and bold colours, but she wouldn’t notice my hesitation. Not for a few years. Then we’d have to find a way to scale up to bigger books.
The lazy version of me would have already asked a relative to help with stories, but I wasn’t that guy anymore. I’d grown up and would be everything Cait needed in a father.
I stomped downstairs, my brain flitting between the various jobs that still needed doing around the cottage.
I had the third bedroom to fix up and paint, the downstairs bathroom to finish, pantry shelves to install.
Outside needed work, too, but that could wait for warmer weather next year.
Exhilaration warmed me. There would be a family living here then. My family.
A rumbling outside had me bounding to the door and swinging it wide.
A fun sight met my gaze.
Callum parked up his Land Rover and stepped out. “Morning.” He collected his new son from the passenger side and slid him into a baby carrier against his chest. Then he grinned and tipped his head at the trailer attached to his car. “Brought her.”
I boggled and stepped into my boots then darted down the path. Sitting pretty on the trailer, a rowing boat gleamed.
Wide-eyed, I ran my hand over the smooth, freshly painted wood. “Ye varnished her?”
“Aye. She’s been in the garage for two years. I worked on her with Wasp. Now, she’s all yours.”
The rowing boat had been in frequent use in teenage summers.
Scarlet, Wasp, and I had gone out in it once, and Scar had taken it out on her own multiple times.
Her busy life left little room for hobbies or exercise, but I knew she loved messing around on the water.
I wanted to use it as part of our date tomorrow.
Besides, it was better left here than at the castle. Callum had put it into storage the minute he realised his twins had an interest in setting sail down the loch—despite being tiny wee things at the time, both had adventurous souls—but had happily resurrected the old sloop for me.
Between us, we manhandled it from the trailer, Callum working at arms’ length to keep the bairn safe, and we carried it to the edge of the loch, stowing it under its tarpaulin cover.
“What’s the plan?” My brother straightened up and gazed across the water to the village.
“I’m going to take Scar sailing. It’s a surprise.”
“Not with Cait?”
I shuddered. “No! She’s not going near the water until she can swim the full length of the loch.”
My brother guffawed and rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. “If she’s anything like ye, you’ve got your work cut out.”
Aw hell. “I earned that, didn’t I?”
Together, we strolled to the house. After last weekend, my family had accepted the fact that Scar and I were now a couple. No one had directly asked, but each of us had our own concerns now. Somehow, we’d all grown up.
“That letter turned up from the court,” Callum said. “I sent back the agreement we’d signed up. Hopefully it’ll do the trick.”
He meant the court’s questioning my ownership of the loch house, for which they’d asked for multiple different pieces of evidence.
I’d tried not to let it worry me, but any chink in my armour could be used against me if Georgia Banks pressed her case.
There was no way I could afford to pay rent on a part-time salary, and I couldn’t look after Cait if I worked five or six days a week.
Equally, Callum couldn’t just give away a whole house to enable me to keep a roof over my daughter’s head.
Even if he wanted to, it had tax implications.
So between us, we’d reached an agreement for me to buy the place but with deferred payment, when I had the cash.
Callum considered it a done deal. The solicitors said it was low risk, as it was family-owned and my threat of eviction was low. Yet still, the court kept asking.
I grunted. “Thank ye for handling it.”
“That’s what kin do.”
We reached the house, and I gestured at the door with my head. “Coffee?”
“I have something else for ye first.” He drew to a halt next to the Land Rover. “Ye know how proud we all are of what you’ve done? How you’ve coped and turned your life around for wee Cait.”
Aw, man. All it took was one hint of pride from Callum to knock me out. I’d rarely done much to deserve it, but he’d always been the best brother I could imagine. I reached out and took his boy’s wee hand and stroked his fingers. “I’ve done what anyone would.”
“Don’t downplay it. We’re proud of ye, and ye need to know.” He tapped the car. “This is yours.”
I lifted my gaze. For the first time, I realised it wasn’t Callum’s Land Rover, but a very similar one. “What are ye talking about?”
“We clubbed together and bought this. Gordain worked on the engine, so it’s in good condition. Ye need a car for Cait, and Mathilda will be back on her feet soon, so we didn’t want to limit ye.”
Speechless, I clapped my hand over my mouth. Then I grabbed the huge man into a one-armed hug. “Thank ye. Don’t ye dare say that’s what kin do this time because it’s not. This is far and beyond.”
Callum slapped my back. “Dinna mention it.” We broke apart, and he placed a hand on his son’s head. “We’re both fathers now. Our bairns will grow up together.”
“Got a name for this one yet?”
“Still working on that. We’re following your example with Cait. Sometimes ye need to know a child a wee while before their name comes.”
My phone blared in my pocket, and I fished it out. A message from Scar and a missed call from a withheld number waited on the screen. The social worker’s office always withheld their numbers. A voicemail dinged, and I hit play immediately.
“Mr McRae, it’s Rena Smith. We have the information you requested. I’ve left the file at the reception in our office. Thank you.” The social worker’s message ended.
I furrowed my brow.
Callum pointed at the phone. “What did ye ask for?”
“So many things. Birth records, Cait’s medical report, all the information they had on Kaylee, endless stuff I’ve never been given.” I swallowed. “But most recently, I rang them demanding to know about this relative of Kaylee’s.”
My brother glowered, and I did, too. My whole family were endlessly frustrated by the lack of news from the solicitors or movement on my case.
“We’ll have a coffee another time. Go find out what they have for ye,” Callum advised.
“Exactly what I was about to suggest.” I switched my gaze to the Land Rover. “Shite, you couldn’t have timed this better.”
Callum blew out a breath and strode back to the car—my new car, I still hadn’t quite got over the shock of what my brothers had done—fixing his boy into his seat once more. “Drop me back at the castle, and we’ll unhitch the trailer and off ye go.”
Three quarters of an hour later, I parked at the social worker’s office and strode into the reception.
“I’m Alasdair McRae. Is Rena Smith here?” I enquired.
The receptionist did a double-take. Strangers always did when they clocked the scars. She forced a smile. “Sorry, no.”
“I think there’s a letter for me?”
The woman paged through a file. “You’re right, here you go.” She extracted a brown envelope and handed it over. Who knew what bombshell this information contained.
I stared at it for a second, debating asking the woman to read it to me, but instead, I returned to the car and tore into the packet, spilling a single sheet of paper on my lap.
Words danced across the page in front of my eyes. I stilled my frustration and took out my phone, snapping a pic and opening the app that could read it back to me.
Burial record. Kathleen Reid, it read.
I blew out a heavy breath.
Below, it listed details of an Inverness cemetery and a plot number. I’d wanted this information, for Cait’s sake, at least. But it dented the happy feeling I’d been carrying around.
Still, I needed to do this.
With a heavy heart, I set tracks for my bairn’s mother’s resting place.
High hills and open blue skies marked the cemetery site. I wandered through until I found the right row, and stopped for a wee minute, catching my breath.
Aside from a man tending the grass, I was the only person around, and my discomfort grew.
I’d been on a roller coaster with my emotions about Kaylee, but I needed to settle that and move on.
A polished black headstone marked her grave.
I could just about make out her name and a jumble of numbers that must be her birth and death dates.
A bunch of flowers had been propped against the stone, and I was a jerk for not bringing any myself.
I squinted to make out the message on the card, but it was no good.
The writing was in a scrawl I had no chance of deciphering.
So I sat cross-legged on the damp ground and addressed the lass I’d come to visit.
“Hey, Kaylee,” I said, feeling like a fool. “It’s Ally. Alasdair McRae. I want ye to know…”
Fuck. What?
I rolled my hands to prompt my brain to move on.
“I know about our bairn. Claimed her, in fact. I’ve named her Caitriona.
Cait and Kaylee sound alike, so I thought it worked.
” In my bed at night, I’d gone over this endlessly—what I would say to Kaylee if I could.
But none of it made sense talking to a grave.
Kaylee was at rest, and I had to be good with that.
“I’ll make sure she knows all about her ma. I’m working on remembering the things you told me. A friend said to write them down, so I will.”
The breeze cooled my skin, and a fresh slew of memories flooded my mind, ones I hadn’t been able to reach before. Probably because I’d had so much else to think about.
“Ah Christ, I’m remembering things. I know ye loved old dance music,” I told the grass just below the headstone.
“ABBA, aye? I remember ye suggesting I put one of their songs as the background to a video. And ye were a shy thing, but there was fire in ye, like when you told me how upset ye were with the world. I wish I’d asked ye more and been a better friend. ”
Then came the hardest part. “I’m so sorry ye died. Ye would’ve loved our lass. She’s the prettiest wee thing. I swear I’ll raise her right. One day, I’ll bring her here so she knows where ye sleep. Thank ye for giving her to me.”
Tears clogged my throat, and I leapt to my feet, turned, and descended the hill.
Kaylee might never have been my love, but she was a friend.
I couldn’t be angry anymore about her creating and hiding the pregnancy.
I could only imagine how badly she wanted someone to love.
That had made my daughter, and I could never regret it.
A new peace settled over me, and I clambered into the car and found my phone. Scarlet’s single word message from earlier, an enigmatic “Hey” had been followed up with several more.
I’m coming today. I need to see you.
Oh God, this is really short notice. You’re home, right?
I’m being stupidly impulsive, but I miss you. I… Well, I’m at the airport, about to get on a plane.
My breathing stuttered. Scarlet was coming for me? Oh, hell yes. I’d never needed her so badly. I played the last message again to hear the time, then squinted at my phone, taking too long to calculate the difference. It had been around thirty minutes ago.
The Land Rover’s engine roared. I had a new direction and a fresh perspective in mind.
Life was short. Kaylee taught me that.
I was a man in love. With a tiny bairn, with the actions of a friend in the past, and very much with a redheaded lass who was on her way to my arms.
The airport soon loomed ahead, Scarlet’s flight landing imminently. My epic date plans had rapidly expanded to cover the additional time we’d have together, and my insides quaked with anticipation.
I loved this lass. More than I could ever imagine.
Needed her.
Now I’d get to show her exactly what that meant.