Page 45 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

Tara said, ‘I saw you on the loch the other day.’ Her voice was low.

Cal turned to look at her, his eyes as dark and unfathomable as the water. ‘You were up early.’

‘Yes.’

‘I was fishing.’

‘I guessed as much. Did you catch anything?’

‘Three, but I put them back.’

The ease of earlier was no longer there. This conversation was stilted and tense.

It was time to leave. Tara had enjoyed the evening – far too much, if she was honest. Best to go now, before it was ruined.

‘Would you like to go out on the loch sometime?’ His question took her by surprise. ‘I could take you,’ he added.

‘Maybe.’ She imagined the view from the other side, looking back at the boathouse and the castle. She imagined being alone with Cal in that boat, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling as he rowed. ‘I’d like that.’ She got to her feet. ‘Thanks for a lovely evening.’

Cal also stood. ‘You’re welcome. Take care, Tara.’

For a moment, she thought he was about to kiss her, but then he shoved his hands into his pockets.

‘Bye, Cal.’

She stepped off the deck and onto the path leading to the loch. It was just about light enough to enable her to pick her way along the shoreline to the boathouse. Only once did she look back. She couldn’t see him, but the light from the candle flickered in the distance.

Was he still on the deck?

When she reached the boathouse, she turned to look again, but Cal’s cottage was now in darkness.

It was a long time before Tara went to bed, and even longer before she fell asleep.

There was a lighter area in the sky above the village, the streetlights casting a glow into the heavens, but it was faint and not enough to drown out the myriad of stars overhead.

After Tara left, Cal blew out the candle and tracked her progress across the white sand to the boathouse. Only when he was satisfied she was home safe did he relax and sit back in his chair to enjoy the night and reflect.

He’d been shocked when he’d answered the door to find her standing there, as beautiful and as bewitching as ever, and had felt a jolt of longing so acute it had shaken him to his core. It had taken him a moment to understand that she wasn’t here to seehim, but to query whether he wanted her to go ahead with commissioning the doll’s house for Bonnie, in light of the photos she’d taken earlier.

Until Tara had brought it to his attention, Cal hadn’t considered how other people might view Yvaine’s home. She’d always been intensely houseproud, wanting everything just so, and she used to study glossy magazines and follow various influencers online to try to emulate what she saw on their social media posts. On reflection, their home near Inverness had been just as sterile, but he hadn’t noticed at the time.

He smirked as he thought of the photos Tara had shown him of Bonnie’s bedroom. He would bet any amount of money that his daughter had waited until Yvaine was about to usher her out of the door for school to pretend she’d forgotten something so she could dash upstairs to trash her room. He wondered whether Bonnie had managed to tidy up the mess before her mother saw it, or whether she’d had a telling off. He hoped it was the former, both for his daughter’s sake and because he derived childish satisfaction from someone getting one up on his ex-wife. He supposed he should be more mature, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to act like an adult since seeing Tara had catapulted him back a decade.

Chatting for hours about their uni days this evening hadn’t helped, but he’d enjoyed it so much that for a while he’d felt like a student again, when he’d been young and in love.

Cal let his breath out in a huff. Thirty-three wasn’t old, but he felt the weight of every one of those years. They pressed down on him, reminding him that he was a father, and he had responsibilities which went beyond himself and his own wants and desires. And that was why he should never have invited Tara to share his evening meal. He couldn’t afford to let her slip into his heart again, not when she no longer thought of him that way.

Again?Ha! She’d never left it. And that was why he should keep his distance, and not suggest taking her out on the loch in his skiff. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking, but whatever it was, he hadn’t been using his head – he had been using his heart.

And that was a very dangerous thing to do.

Chapter 14

Tara rescued the piece of paper before the printer spat it onto the floor and examined it closely, turning it this way and that as she held it up to the light. The pattern had come out quite well she decided, as she compared it to the photo that had been emailed to her by the sister of the woman who owned the funeral parlour. With the construction of the building itself complete, Tara was now turning her attention to the part she liked the best, the interior decorating. She always began with the ceilings, then the walls and finally the floor covering, before installing any furniture, fixtures or fittings.

Today she was wallpapering. Using the photograph of the white and gold paper on the walls of the reception area, Tara had reproduced the image on the computer, shrunk it down, and printed it out. She was about to cut it to the right size when the studio door opened and Bonnie bounded in.

‘What are you doing?’ the girl asked.

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