Page 86 of Surprises on the Scottish Isle

‘There is, and it’s nearly here.’ He lowered the binoculars, grabbed his daughter’s hand and began to run. ‘We’ve got to go.’

‘Where?’ Bonnie panted, as she hurried to keep up.

‘You are going to the castle. I’m going to see Mack.’

‘Why? What’s—?’

‘I haven’t got time to answer questions,’ he replied, barging into the cottage and grabbing his waterproofs, phone and the car keys. ‘Get your coat,’ he instructed, dialling Mhairi’s number as he charged outside again, Bonnie hot on his heels.

Mhairi answered on the second ring.

‘Call the coast guard,’ he yelled, the strengthening wind snatching at his words. ‘Tara has takenMisty Ladyout.’

Mhairi didn’t argue. She knew as well as he did what that could mean. ‘Will do.’

‘I’m going to Mack’s. Can you have Bonnie?’

‘Drop her off on your way.’ She hung up, and Cal made another call. ‘Mack? It’s Cal. I need your help.’

Tara’s teeth chattered as she fought with the rudder. Although she was aiming the boat in the right direction, the waves wanted to take it in another. She also suspected that the tide was going out, and slowly but surely the little boat was being pulled out of the relative shelter of the loch and towards the open sea.

‘Relative shelter’ was a relative term, because the waves were higher than she thought possible, whipped into white angry peaks by the worsening wind. The troughs between them were even worse as the distant shoreline disappeared from view each time the boat sank into one. And every time it did, she feared she was about to be swamped.

The boat was slowly filling up as waves sloshed over the side. Driving rain didn’t help either, and with each minute that passed, Tara grew ever more fearful that she wouldn’t come out of this alive.

If she’d realised there was a storm on the way, she never would have taken the boat out. But it had been so calm and so peaceful. The calm before the storm. She knew now where the phrase came from.

Tara had been psyching herself up to go back to the boathouse, having cried herself into a strange surreal calm of her own, when she’d noticed that the sea had become choppy, the boat bobbing more than it had previously. The wind had picked up, and when she’d glanced at the sky, a darkness above the mountains had struck a chord of worry. It was only then did she appreciate that the weather on Skye truly could turn in an instant. And it was at that point she started to become scared.

It had taken her several tries to get the outboard going, but once she did some of the tension eased a fraction. She had power therefore she could get back to safety. She hoped. But chugging across a millpond was vastly different to battling waves higher than her head, and she was worryingly sure she wasn’t making much headway in the direction she wanted to go.

However, that wasn’t the worst. In her eagerness to deliver Bonnie’s doll’s house, Tara had forgotten her mobile phone. She couldn’t call for help, and no one knew she was out here. There was a very real possibility she might die if she was swept out to sea.

When the engine spluttered and cut out and she failed to get it going again, the possibility became a certainty.

Terrified, freezing, soaking wet and filled with despair, Tara began to shout.

But it wasn’t ‘Help’ she shouted. It was Cal’s name.

The Range Rover slid to a halt in a scatter of gravel, and Cal was out of the door and reaching for his waterproof jacket a split second later. He’d made the short trip from Duncoorie to Mack’s place in record time, but despite only speaking to Mack mere minutes ago, the man was already there, readying the boat.

Cal waved and Mack held up his hand, so Cal hung back, not getting on board just yet.

When Mack gave him a thumbs up, Cal released the boat’s two mooring ropes and jumped down onto the deck. Mack was already in the cockpit with the engine running as Cal joined him at the helm, and when the boat moved away from the quay Mack pulled back on the throttle and engaged the thrusters.

In less than a minute, the quay was behind them, obscured by the driving rain. The boat’s navigation lights were lit, and as soon as it reached open water, Mack also flicked the searchlight on.

‘I don’t get to use this very often,’ he said, his eyes on the radar screen.

As well as radar, the boat was equipped with sonar and GPS, but Cal knew it wouldn’t be easy to detect a small wooden boat in heavy rain. What he was depending on was Mack’s expert knowledge of the winds and the tides in the loch. If anyone could findMisty Ladyand her precious cargo, it was Mack. He hadn’t needed an explanation. His friend knew the danger that Tara was in better than anyone.

Cal clapped a hand on Mack’s shoulder and shouted to make himself heard over the engine and the howling wind. ‘Thanks, mate.’

‘We haven’t found her yet.’

‘We will,’ Cal was certain of it. To think otherwise was, well… unthinkable. He had to believe they would find Tara safe and well.He had to.

‘Where do you think her starting point would have been?’ Mack asked.

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