The House on the Shore (11 page)

Twenty minutes later, the dogs trotted back into view, Anna trailing behind.
She paused and looked up into the sky.
At first,
Luke couldn’t see what she was searching for.
Then he saw them.
First one, then two, then four tiny black dots
came
wheeling out of the old barn at the side of the croft.
Bats!
He hadn’t seen a bat since childhood, when his uncle in Austin had taken him to Congress Bridge to see them emerge at dusk.
He certainly hadn’t expected to see them this far nort
h or in such an isolated place.

He looked at his watch—
eleven-thirty, yet felt much earlier.
The strange half-light of a Scottish summer evening confused him, despite the fact that he’d first dropped anchor in the Outer Hebrides
.

Across the loch, Anna called the dogs, her voice carrying over the water in the still evening air.
When she disappeared inside the cottage, Luke rose.
He checked the sails to make sure they were securely stowed for the night, and that the anchor was firmly set.
He picked up his artist’s materials and headed for the companionway, pausing to enjoy
the
scent of wood
smoke drifting across the loch
before going below
.

The following Monday, Anna started work at the
hotel
.
Originally built as a hunting lodge for
the
estate, the two-storey granite building had been converted into a hotel by Alistair Grant’s fa
ther some ten years previously
to prevent
it from falling into disrepair.

Set amidst spectacular scenery, it stood on a rise overlooking the village.
Bordered by rhododendrons
and extensive gardens, it retained much of its Victorian charm.
An outpost of comfort and graciousness, the hotel restaurant offered good food
,
comfortable accommodation
, and r
umour had it that Queen Victoria had once stayed there.

The fifteen letting bedrooms, each named after a clan, were decorated in its clan colours.
The Lindsay room, which doubled as the honeymoon suite
,
overlooked a small
lochan at the side of the hotel
and
had recently been
refurbished in muted shades of green and deep rose.

Although remote, and surrounded by unspoilt countryside, it remained popular with
hillwalkers, climbers
,
and fishermen who came to try their hand at trout and salmon fishing in the nearby rivers and lochs.
An impressive array of stag
’
s heads and stuffed fish hung on the walls of the bar and entrance hall.
A certificate displayed in reception proudly announced the hotel had been designated the ‘Best Sporting Hotel in Scotland
’ for three years running.

Last winter, much to the surprise of Ewan, the manager, it had been hired by a major TV production company to double for ‘the local hostelry’ in a series of programmes about the life
of a fictitious Scottish laird.

Employed as a chambermaid and girl Friday, Anna stripped and made beds, and when necess
ary, helped out in the kitchen.

“I hear there’s a yacht moored in the loch,” Morag said, as
they made up
the twin beds in room seven.

“H
ow on earth do you know that?”
replied Anna.

“Well, lass, you know how the village grapevine works.
One of the shepherds
saw it
sail into the loch
.
He told
his wife
, who mentioned it to Ewan, who then told me.
I understand it’s quite large and expensive looking, has two masts for the sails and there’s an American flag flying off the stern on a wee pole.
Oh, and it’s anch
ored opposite Tigh na Cladach.”

Anna pulled the pillowcase on a bolster, plumped it up, and placed it on the bed, avoiding her inquisitor’s gaze.

“
That’s
right, although the sight of a boat in the loch is not that unusual, even this early in the tourist season.”

“And would I also be right in saying that it belongs to the gentleman you
drove
down to the hotel the other day?”

Anna
stare
d
at her friend.
“Who told you about that?”

“Katrina saw a Land Rover
,
your
Land Rover, in the car park.
She just happened to be in the bar when a man came in
ask
ing to change a £50 note
.
”

“Just because there was a Land Rover in the car park, doesn’t mean to say it was mine.”

“No, it doesn’t.
But there were two
B
order collies
inside
, and
it
was driven by a woman with ginger hair
—
”

“It’s not ginger!”
Anna declared, mildly irritated.

“
Y
ou’re the only woman in the glen with hair that colour.
And as your house is the only one which stands on the shore of loch, he couldn’t have got a lift from anyone else.”

“H
e could have walked as far as the car park and hitched a lift with one of the hillwalkers.”

“He could have, but he didn’t.
W
hat’s he like, this American friend of yours?
And why didn’t you tell me about him the other evening?”
Morag smiled benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child.

“I woul
d hardly call him a friend.
I did him a favour, that’s all.
He has
a problem with the pump for the
autopilot
and needs a part for it.
Besides, I couldn’t very well let him walk the twelve mi
les to the phone, now could I?”

“No, lass, you could not.
You’ve been brought up to treat people better than that.
So how long will he be staying?”

“I don’t know.
It depends when the part arrives.
That might not be until sometime next week, or possibly the week after.
H
e said it’s unsafe for him to return to the States until he’s made the repair, and even then he might have to take the yacht into the boatyard in Fort William
to be checked over.”

“I see.
Where exactly in America did you say he comes from?”

Anna tucked the top sheet under the mattress.
“I didn’t.
And since when are you an expert on American geography?”

“I’m not.
It’s just a point of curiosity, that’s all.”

“My goodness Morag, you woul
d
make
an excellent police interrogator.
I only gave him a lift to the hotel.
He said Massachusetts, but for all I know that’s next door to Seattle or Coney Island.
If you’re that curious, why don’t you swim out to his yacht and ask him yourself?”

Morag nodded slowly.
“I could, but I doubt my Lachlan would sanction the activity.
So tell me
,
what does your errant American look like?
Is he young, or old?
Is he alone
,
or does he have a companion, a woman friend perhaps?”

“He was rude, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“
Then your eyesight must be failing.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to borrow my glasses?
Because I can’t believe you could spend an hour in a man’s company and not
remember what he looked like.”

Anna had seen that look before and knew its meaning well.
“All right.
He’s tall, dark-haired, greying at the temples, tanned, and if you like mature men, good-looking.
His voice is deep, sensual, and positively oozes sex appeal.
I’d say he’s about forty, or maybe even a little older.
You
already know he’s an American.”

“That’s
what
Katrina said.”

“The
n why bother asking me if you
already
have
all the answers?
Really, Morag, you know I hate gossiping as much as I hate being the subject of curiosity and chitchat.”

“Aye, lass, I do
, a
nd in that respect, I should be apologi
z
ing.
Y
ou can’t blame an old married woman like me for being curious.
I only have your best interest at heart now that your grandmother has gone.
If he’s as good-looking as you say, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked a pretty girl like you out.”

Anna blushed.
“What makes you think he hasn’t already done so?”

“Well if he had, you’d have told me, now wouldn’t you?
Anyhow, you don’t want to be jumping into another relationship so soon after Mar
k.
It will only end in tears.”

“Credit me with some sense.
Luke’s only here for a few days.
I’m not the type to leap into bed with the first man who comes along.
Besides
, he could be married.”

“I’m sure he’s not.
If he
were
, he wouldn’t be sailing across the Atlantic searching for a past he doesn’t know he has.
You need to be watchful of that man.”

Anna rolled her eyes.
“
That’s ridiculous
,
Morag!
He’s just a sailor who has a problem with his yacht.
It was pure chance that
made him sail into Loch Hourn.”

Morag’s eyes grew dark and unfathomable.
“That’s what you think
,
lass.
I’m telling you different. You should be careful. T
here is danger in the glen.
I see it around you.”

Anna shivered.
“This isn’t the time or the place for one of your premonitions
, Morag
.
W
hat’s more, you know I don’t believe in the ‘
S
econd
S
ight.’
There’s no scientific proof.
At best, it’s a matter of coincidence, and at
worst it’s a load of rubbish.”

Morag blinked and focused her gaze on Anna’s face.
“Scottish history tells it differently, as you well know, but I’ll not argue with you.
You are entitled to your opinion, as I am.
You may not believe what I say at the moment, lass, but you will.
Something evil is going on.
I can feel it.”

“Oh, please!
”
Anna snapped
.
“
Your imagin
ation is running away with you.
You’ve watch
ed
too many late night horror films on television.
They always give you nightmares when you’re alone.
Speaking of you being alone, when does Lachlan
get back?”

Morag wouldn’t be
sidetracked
.
“Have it your own way, lass.
You’ve known me long enough to know that the Sight has never let me down.
I can see that my warning isn’t what you want to hear just now, so I’ll say no more.
Shall we get on?
We’ve still got another three bedrooms to tidy and lunch to prepare.”

Anna bit down on her temper.
“Yes, let’s
.
In fact, w
hy
don’t you go and start lunch?
I’ll finish off up here.
When I’m through, I’ll come to the kitchen and give you a hand.”

“Of course, dear,” Morag smiled.
She turned, and started down the s
tairs, but paused halfway down.

Anna leaned over the banister, wondering what the problem was
.
A family with two young children and a baby were checking in at reception.
She
saw the look of
indescribable
sadness
on
Morag’s
face.
She ha
d shared Morag’s delight at being told she was pregnant, but couldn’t begin to understand the pain and disappointment she and Lachlan must have experien
ced
when
Morag miscarried.
She
wanted to reach out and give her friend a hug, and was about to tell her that there was plenty of time for her to have a family
, when Morag broke the silence.