The House on the Shore (14 page)

Anna met his accusing eyes without flinching.
How dare he question her lifestyle, her character, and above all, her motive for staying in the
glen?
She
felt
even more annoyed with herself
for allowing him to goad her.

“Do you think I’m some sort of criminal?
Because if you do,
I’ve a good mind to leave you here and let you find your own way!”
She
stomped
off up the path.

Luke caught up with her.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there, girl.
I got way out of line.
I don’t why, but I just got sorta
-
I don’t know
-
concerned about you being out here on your own.”

Anna took a steadying breath.
“I don’t understand why you feel the need to be concerned for my welfare.
I’m quite capable of looking after myself.
I’ve been coming here for years.
I know these hills intimately.
Come on.
There’s a stunning view
of the islands
a little further on.”

Without waiting to see if he was following, she walked on until she reached the viewpoint.
She sat down with her back to a large
, rough granite boulder
and
drank in the view she’d loved since childhood.
Ensay and Rhona lay panting at her feet.

Anna
freed
her hair
from its braid
and
allo
wed it to tumble down her back.
She closed her eyes
, and wondered why s
he
felt so
short-tempered, tired and unhappy.
Perhaps coming to the croft hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
Her break-
up with Mark, the continued lack of sleep, the unexpected letter from the solicitor, and now Luke’s odd behaviour had just about ruined her
visit
.
She wasn’t sur
e how much more she could take.

Luke sat down next to her, his thigh warm and hard against hers.
Every breath she drew in smelled
of citrus and sandalwood
,
and something indefinably male.
She opened her eyes to see him watching her.
Sigh
ing
,
she
smiled with no
trace of her former animosity.

“
I didn’t get much sleep last night
,” she said by way of apology
.
“
I’m a bit touchy when strangers start asking me about my life.”

“That’s
o
kay
.
I understand
.
We all have bad days.
As for strangers, I thought we were past introductions.”
His hus
ky voice held a faint challenge.
H
is gaze travelled over her face
and
search
ed
her eyes.

“Wel
l…I…”

“I’ll take that as a ‘
yes
,
’ then.
Do you have a boyfriend, a significant other?”

Heat burned her cheeks.
She gave him a chilling look.
“I’d prefer not to
answer
that, if you don’t mind.”

“
I've overstepped my bounds, have I?
”

“
By a foot or two.
”

“
Any way to back out of this gracefully?
”

“
Not in the slightest,
”
s
he grinned
,
forgiving his faux pas
.
“
T
hat’s the Isle of Skye
,
the Misty Isle, as it’s sometimes called,
” she said pointing to the islands
in the distance.
“
And the
jagged
mountains y
ou see are the famous Cuillin.”

“Wow!”
His tawny brown eyes crinkled at the corners.
“What a view.
It must be even more spectacular at sunrise or sunset.
How far are we from the top?”

“It’s another thousand feet to the summit.
I often come up here to watch the sunset.
Under the right conditions it can be quite spectacular.
But I like it best after a storm, when the sky is dark and moody, yet the visibility can be as good as it is today.”

“It’s like that on the Cape.
My studio faces the ocean.
The light after a storm is amazing, but hard to capture on canvas.
I should have brought my sketchbook.
This would make a great watercolour.
Do you get many days like this?”

“
You
never can predict a Scottish summer.
Do y
ou paint often?”

Luke’s smile deepened into laughter
.
“Now who’s asking questions?”

Anna felt herself flush.
“
You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll answer your question.
I’m an artist.
I paint for a living.”

Anna’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Really?
When you first appeared at my door, I had you down as some sort of rich company executive playing with one of his toys.
From what I understand
,
yachting is a very expensive hobby.
Look, I didn’t mean to imply...your financial status is none of my business,” she said
,
colouring fiercely.
“Oh dear, that didn’t come out right at all.
What exactly do you paint?”

“Mainly land and seascapes.
I’ve had some showings in New York and Boston.
I’ve been pretty successful
,
so far.
But tastes change, and what’s considered hot today might be considered not-so-hot tomorrow.”

“Would I
recognize
your work?”
Her mind rolled back to
Saturday afternoon
s
when she and Mark visited art exhibitions and museums.
“That didn’t come out right either.
Are your paintings hung in any of the galleries over here
,
perhaps in Edinburgh
?”

“Not that I know of, although six months ago I did get commissioned by a Boston lawyer who eventually moved to London.”

“I’m impressed.
So
why did you stop painting
?”

Luke sighed, his eyes fixed on something at the far edge of the sea.
“My work lost its edge.
I feel like I’m churning out the same painting over and over again.
I was having lunch with this
client
when
I finally realized
that I needed to get away
,
that maybe a vacation
would fix things.
I drove home, stocked the yacht, and sailed up the coast to Maine.”

Anna’s mouth twitched in amusement.
“What d
id you do, take a wrong turn?”

He threw back his head and laughed.
“
D
espite what you might think, I really can read a chart.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“
It can’t be easy
to sail
single-handed
.”

“It’s damned hard work.
Not to mention lonely and sometimes scary.
One night the
re was a particularly bad storm. T
he waves were huge
,
at least twenty feet high.
Sandpiper was pitching and yawing so much I thought she’d capsize.
I started to wonder if I was up to the task.
I even thought about turning back
, b
ut I guess I was just too stubborn to give in.”

“I’ve seen hints of stubbornness in you a couple of times.
K
eep talking.
What is it about sailing that dr
aws you?
What started it all?”

“I crewed for a friend once.
He entered his yacht in the America’s Cup.
There were twelve of us onboard, working the winches.”

“Did you win?”

“No.
We finished.
Alive.
That was all that mattered.
I thought that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done
,
up until this trip.
I had nightmares about running into another vessel in the dark, especially in high seas.
Or worse, that I’d end up like Jonah in the belly of some God forsaken whale.”

Anna chuckled.
“But you didn’t.”

He smiled.
“No, thank God.”

“How do you manage to
sleep?”

“I slept an hour or so at a time.
The yacht has the lates
t navigational aids and an auto
pilot
, when it works,
which allows you to take cat-naps.”

“An artist.
A yachtsman.
You’re a regular Renaissance man, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I do a lot of different things.”

“
W
hy come to Scotland?”

“Funny story.
I was originally going to sail up the u
p the coast to Nova Scotia.
I took a break in Bar Harbor.
I found this little oil painting
,
a landscape.
This is going to sound really stupid
,
but s
omething about it just plain fascinated me.
I asked the owner about the artist, but all he knew was that it came from an old lady whose family came to America from Scotland some
time in the 1800s.
I bought it
and hung it in my cabin.
I couldn’t get the image out of my mind.
The following morning I set sail, and the next thing I knew, I was headed east across the Atlantic.
Does that sound romantic and foolish or more like a load of bullshit?”

“Definitely the latter.
Morag would
have great fun talking to you!”

Luke studied her face.
“Is she a psychologist?”

Anna laughed so hard tears ran down her cheeks.
She pulled her handkerchief from
her pocket
and wiped her eyes.

“No, no
, n
ot at all.
Morag is a…a strong believer in Highland folklore.
She says she’s got the Sight.”

“What’s that?
Some kind of night vision or something?”

Anna suppressed another giggle.
“
Physically, she can’t see any better than you or
me.
She thinks she’s a kind of
psychic.
She’d say that your actions were predestined
,
that your ancestors had decreed that you would find the painting at that particular moment in time, or some other such mumbo-jumbo.”

“And yo
u don’t believe in that stuff?”

“No way!
Very few modern Scots do.”

He raised an eyebrow.
“What about provid
ence?
Do you believe in that?”

“In what context?”

“
I don’t know.
Do you think you and I were destined to meet?”

Anna thought for a moment then
shook her head.
“
There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for us meeting.
You sailed into the loch b
ecause your yacht had a problem and
you
ne
eded to use a phone. You
saw the croft and knocked at my door.
It’s nothing more complicated than that.”

“What if I said I wasn’t so sure?
I don’t deny the
autopilot
is pretty messed up,
b
ut that happened after I left Stornaway.
I could have turned back, but I didn’t.
I sailed south until I ended up in Loch Hourn.
Why?
And what made me drop anchor here, when I could have limped along to another harbour?”

“I don’t know.
I’m not clairvoyant.”