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‘Don’t fret yourself,’ Jeannie advised.

‘I
am
upset. Why should I have the last day of my holiday ruined by one of Mother’s ridiculous young men? Without fail, they’ve been hard-drinking, racy, moneyladen young bores. I’ve avoided most of them of late, but this fellow is ill-mannered in the extreme, to persist to such lengths.’

Donald, who had joined them and picked up the thread of the discussion, put his arm around her protectively. ‘There now, my wee girl, just you leave it all to Jeannie. She will explain it to Elspeth, and we will go to the car. No one will be troubling you while you are staying with us.’

They went out to the car, and were joined a few minutes later by Jeannie, who was having trouble controlling her laughter. ‘Elspeth has given me her word not to mention where you are staying. But she says this man has already arranged to hire a car for the day and is taking old Alex as his guide. Elspeth is Alex’s cousin. Elspeth says Alex will have a wonderfully happy day visiting from house to house seeing all his old friends, and having a
dram here and a dram there. She will tell him not to visit our end of the island so that you will be quite safe at Balephuill.’

Donald chuckled as he drove off. ‘I’m feeling it in my heart to be sorry for the rich young man. Alex can be an old devil when he sets out to enjoy himself. I can see him spending a wee while at each house, seemingly, enquiring about your whereabouts but being deliberately vague. He will manage to have the time of his life.’

‘I’m pleased that Alex will have such a fine time, and I’ll enjoy my day all the more each time I think of Morgan Grant becoming more and more tired, impatient and frustrated. It will serve him right following me up here.’

The afternoon flew by on golden wings. After lunch the children from the farm spent a delightful hour with Katriona and Donald down by the shore. They chased the waves along the smooth sandy beach, played in and out the rocks and pools, before wending their way home along the bum, which was bordered with a fantastic display of wild blue iris in bloom. The children sang their way along, their sweet young voices rising clear and true on the fine Highland air.

After returning the children to the house by the loch, Donald and Katriona walked on to Kenavarra. The sun was hot and warm on their backs, and the tiny wildflowers spread a carpet for their feet to walk on.

‘Let’s sit here for a while,’ Donald said as they stood on the grassy slope above the Caves of Kenavarra, watching the sea pounding on the rocks below.

The sky was filled with the angry wheeling gulls calling warning o£ intruders in their nesting grounds, and the cliffs from top to bottom were a glorious kaleidoscope of pink, green and white: the bright flowers of the sea pinks, the vivid green of the leaves and grasses and the snowy whiteness of the nesting gulls. The crashing of the waves on the sharp rocks below merged with the shrieking of the gulls to make a
wild sweet symphony of sound, hauntingly beautiful.

Katriona sat down by Donald, feeling washed in sunlight, music and colour.

After a long companionable silence Donald put his arm around her slim shoulders. ‘You love it here, Katriona. I love you being here. Why not say you’ll marry me and spend the rest of your life on Tiree?’

When Katriona did not answer he continued, ‘We would be very happy, I can promise you that. You are not a city girl. You always say that the children here have a wonderful life ... well, your children and mine would grow up in the same way. Say yes, my darling wee Katriona, please say yes.’

Katriona did not pull away from his caress, in fact she leaned closer towards him, her cheek resting against the roughness of his tweed jacket. ‘Oh, Donald, what can I say? You’re my friend. More than that, you’re my family, almost. I
do
love you, but... but not in the marrying way. In fact I doubt I’m the marrying kind of girl. Please, don’t take it badly. I can’t bear to think I would hurt you, when you’ve always been so very kind to me.’

‘You could not hurt me if you tried.’ Donald brushed her bright hair with his lips.

Katriona thought she would choke on the hard lump in her throat, yet she had to explain her answer to him a little more. She owed him that much. ‘Thank you, Donald. You see, I don’t know how much I’m like my mother... perhaps more than I care to think. I’ve seen her marry three times, and each time she’s convinced it’s the only time she’s ever loved, and that it will last a lifetime, then after a year or two it all comes apart. How do I know that I haven’t inherited her nature, that I wouldn’t be as fickle and inconsistent as her, that I wouldn’t end up hurting anyone who loved me, that I wouldn’t be careless with my children? I wouldn’t want to take that chance. I’ve thought it all through and marriage is not for me. Please accept that as the truth.’ Donald hugged her close for a moment, then got to his feet and held his hands out to her, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. ‘Your pretty blue eyes are filled with tears, my wee girl. You must not cry for me, darling. You haven’t hurt me ... I am disappointed, naturally, but I felt all along that your answer would be no. But we can still be friends. As for that rubbish about taking after your mother, forget it all. Your mother is a
vain, shallow, spoiled woman, and you do not favour her in any way. As you grow older you will get more confidence in yourself, and I have no doubt that when you love a
man enough to marry him you will remain through the years a loyal and loving wife and a
fine example to your children.’

Katriona abandoned any attempt to hold back her tears. It was just so like Donald to be thinking of her and trying to comfort her, instead of feeling put down and sorry for himself. ‘Oh, Donald I do
love
you! I feel so wretched.’

‘But not wretched enough to marry me?’ His smile was a little askew. ‘Not to worry, I’ll settle for next best place, that of a loved and trusted friend. Now we must away home to Jeannie or she will be thinking we’ve fallen over the cliffs.’

Catching hold of her hand, he raced her crazily down the hill so they arrived breathless and laughing at the track which led homeward across the
marrah,
the common land shared by the crofters.

When they arrived back at the croft there was a note on the table saying Jeannie had gone across to Balemartin to visit with friends, and would Donald please collect her.

‘Will you drive with me, Katriona?’ Donald asked as he prepared to take the car out.

'No. If you don’t mind I’ll stay here for a
spell, but I’ll open the yard gate for you.’

She ran lightly ahead of him and swung the gate wide, then waved as he drove through. He would only be away about half an hour, so she fastened the gate and climbed up on it to wait for their return.

Suddenly her interest was caught by a figure of a man striding across the front pasture from the direction of the neighbours’ house. Katriona idly tried to guess his identity. She knew most of the local people, but she did not recognise him. As he drew closer she could see he was dark and very tall, a lean but broad-built fellow. He was coming at a
terrific pace. He would be upset to find Donald not at home. She was almost tempted to call out to him to save his energy.

It was not until he cleared the last fence impatiently and was striding towards her that a horrible premonition hit her. It struck her like an electric shock, making her paralysed for an instant, her fingers and toes tingling with pins and needles of fear. She swung her leg over the other side of the gate in preparation for leaping down and running for the croft, when her arm was caught in a
grip of iron.

‘Oh, no you don’t, my girl. You
are
Katriona Carmichael, don’t bother denying it! ’

‘Why should I deny it? Let me go!’ Katriona shouted. Take your hands off me!’ She glared up at the man now astride the gate. He was not only angry, he was boiling mad.

‘Let you go? You must be joking. What a good laugh you must have had knowing
I
was being given a
fine old runaround by your friend Alex. The artful old dodger had me completely foxed most of the day. What a
dance he’s led me!’ He gave Katriona a vigorous shake as he landed on the ground beside her. ‘Well, what have you got to say for yourself?’

Katriona laughed up into his face, taunting him. ‘I’m delighted you had such a bad day.’ She twisted her wrist trying to make him release the grip of his strong brown hand. ‘Let me go!’

'Not likely. You knew I had to speak to you. I told you, when I was speaking to you on the phone in Edinburgh, that it was important. You could have given me five minutes of your precious time instead of haring away up here to this godforsaken island where most of the inhabitants can’t speak English.’

Katriona laughed nastily. ‘Huh! That was only for your benefit. They’re friends of mine. They can all speak and understand English perfectly well. In fact they speak it beautifully, far better than a Colonial like you.’

‘I suspected as much.’ The flashing grey eyes lost none of their fury. ‘Well, you can stand shouting here at me till the cows come home for all I care. Or you can get a little sense and take me back up to the house, where I’ll speak my piece. Then I’ll be only too happy to let you go your way and I’ll go mine.’

'I have nothing to say to you,’ Katriona spat the words out. ‘How did you find me?’

‘I purchased a map of the island before I came, and marked the roads Alex took me, and each time I suggested this area he came all over coy and pretended he had definite ... or almost definite ... news of your visiting a home in the opposite direction. As the afternoon wore on and he partook more and more freely of the grand hospitality which we were offered, he became a trifle careless. If you want to see him he’s over next door, feeling considerably chastened at his failure to complete the job.’ Morgan Grant jerked her arm. ‘Now come along up to the house.’

‘It’s not your house! ’ Katriona’s eyes flashed.

‘No, it’s not my house. And it’s not your house ... yet. But we’re going-to use it.
Move!’

‘No!’ Katriona planted her two feet firmly apart and scowled ferociously up at her captor. ‘You may be able to intimidate an old man, but you can’t frighten me.’

1 wouldn’t count on it. My name is Morgan Grant. I’ve had a very long and tiring day. I’m very nearly at the end of my patience. I’ve wasted more than enough time on you already, but come hell or high water I will deliver a message I brought from Ian Carmichael, and I will do it in a civilised fashion up there in that house. Now, you may not know me very well, but folks back home could tell you I’m not a man to be scared by an ill-tempered, ill-mannered, pint-sized redhead. So either get walking or on the count of three I’ll pick you up and sling you over my shoulder, and ... One ... two ..

Katriona started for the croft, her soft young mouth set in a grim straight line. She would not admit she was scared, but the way his voice had got quieter and quieter as he was speaking made her more nervous than if he had yelled at her. She opened the door and said through gritted teeth, ‘Do come in.’

‘Thank you very much.’ Morgan Grant released her wrist and walked over and sat down in Donald’s comfortable chair by the fireplace. ‘Sit down, this won’t take long.’

'I prefer to stand,’ Katriona returned icily. His confidence and easy air of assurance as he walked in and took over Donald’s house and Donald’s chair infuriated her.

‘Sit down!'
Morgan Grant thundered, and made to rise from his chair.

Katriona hastily chose a nearby chair. 'Don’t get too comfortable. Donald will be back soon and he’ll throw you off his land when I tell him how outrageously you’ve behaved towards me.’

Morgan Grant laughed sarcastically. ‘Oh, yes, he’s the poor chap who wants to marry you—I picked up an endless amount of useless information as I visited around today. Do I offer him my congratulations or my condolences when we meet?’

Katriona wanted to scream and hit out at him, even throw Jeannie’s favourite vase at him. She could not ever remember being so angry or so humiliated. ‘And Elspeth said you had
lovely
manners! ’

His eyes narrowed. ‘And when was this?’

‘At church this morning,’ Katriona stammered, realising that in her temper she had given away more than she meant to.

His grey eyes flashed fire and Katriona’s heart skipped a nervous beat. ‘So you did know I was here. I’d given old Alex the benefit of the doubt. Well, we’ll soon clear up our business, and I can go back to ...’

‘Our business?’ Katriona interrupted sharply. 'I have no business to share with you. And before you start, allow me to inform you that I’m not interested in any message that you may have to deliver to me from my mother.’

‘I haven’t come from, your mother,’ Grant told her bluntly. ‘Now if you’d keep quiet for a few minutes ... No, better still, if you’d answer a few direct questions clearly and precisely, I’ll be on my way within five minutes. First, do you recognise the name Ross Carmichael?’

‘No.’

‘Think carefully. Have you ever heard it mentioned, say, when you were a child?’

‘No.’ Katriona snapped out the answer each time. Morgan Grant drew a deep breath as if barely able to control his temper. ‘Then perhaps we can attack this problem from a different angle.’

‘I haven’t got a problem,’ Katriona informed him with a toss of her red curls. 'You have a problem.’

He ignored her interjection. ‘Could you please tell me the name of your father?’

Katriona gasped, the colour rushed to her cheeks, then receded, leaving her face starkly pale. Her eyes, huge and darkly blue with shock, stared back at him for an instant, then her long lashes fanned her cheeks and her reaction was hidden from him.