What Lies Between (17 page)

Calum sat back against the booth in surprise. “Right you are! You know your whisky.”

“No, Calum, I know
this
whisky.”

Focusing my attention on the glass, I rolled it between my hands, not wanting him to see the angry tears that had decided they could afford to fall. “Would you get me another?” I asked without looking up.

“Sure. How about some food? You didn’t eat much at the staff meeting.”

“Sounds good. Anything, whatever you think.”

I didn’t want food to dull the drunken state I was determined to bring on, but ordering it would take Calum time and give me space to pull myself together. Calum disappeared through the crowd, and I took the opportunity to find the restroom that was thankfully empty, lock myself in a stall, and bury my face in a clutch of toilet paper. My body turned itself inside out. The heaving sobs stretched my ribs, leaving them tender and aching, the sorrow barreling from some dank, subterranean place. It had festered there for far longer than a few days, and now rushed through my body with the rage of a forest fire sparked in a drought-plagued summer. This much pain and anger had to be pre-MacIver, but they had thrown a heap of gasoline on it all the same.

I cleaned up my face and headed to the bar, determined to down another drink before I went back to my table. “Could I have a double of Old Pult—”

“I ken what you’re drinking,” the barmaid interrupted. She poured the single malt, splashed it with water, and set it in front of me.

“I’ll put it on Calum’s tab. Ellie Jameson, from Glenbroch, eh?” Her tone sounded put out, bothered.

“That’s right. How did you know?”

Does she have a problem with me or is this how she is with everyone?

I didn’t need another person in my life who nursed some half-hidden grudge.

“This isn’t exactly London or New York. Word gets around, especially here at the pub.” She stuck out her hand to shake mine, a slight smile gracing her face. “Maggie MacGregor. Nice to meet you. You’ve a big job on your hands over there.”

I returned the smile. “You’re not kidding. Today I met the MacIvers.”

She might be tight with the MacIvers or be related, given the size of this community. I chose my words carefully but needn’t have worried.

Maggie leaned in, spoke in a low tone. “You would be right there. Mind you, no love lost between me and them.”

She motioned to the end of the bar, away from the others. I followed and met her at the curve in the bar top. “Angus and Helen MacKinnon were well known around these parts, and I knew Gerard from school before he left for university. Never had any trouble with him. Anyway, John MacIver is always cooking up one scheme or another to get his way over things around here. Caused me plenty of trouble over some land, and then there was . . . well, no never mind. Ended up getting my land from me. I don’t want to see John take anything else in this community.” She looked at me, sized up my skeptical expression. “What I’m saying is you can count on me to help you beat those MacIver blokes.”

Good news for a change. “I’m sorry to hear you lost land to them, but having met John MacIver it’s no surprise. I don’t know exactly what help I need yet, but it’s good to know someone here sees the MacIvers for what they are. I appreciate it.”

Proceed with caution.

Anyone with a grudge ran their own agenda. I didn’t need her revenge messing up mine.

“Why don’t you come to my house tomorrow after lunch and we can talk?” She scribbled down directions and handed me the scrap of paper.

“I can be there by three.”

“That would be fine. Nice to meet you, Ellie. The community will do well having you over at Glenbroch.”

“I hope there are others who feel like you do.”

“There will be some who are willing to stand up to the MacIvers. Others see people moving into the area as evidence the Highlands are being lost to outsiders and will side with any Scot born and raised here. But your property has been in the MacKinnon family for a long time. You’re no an outsider, Ellie. You’ve come back home, that’s all.”

Her words felt like the dose of reassurance I needed. 

I
am
home. The MacIvers won’t be taking it from me.

The warning of a brewing storm bristled the hairs on my arms and neck. Maybe fate existed, was determined to play out its hand, and what would happen here could not be avoided.

10

The early morning mist clung to my skin as I made my way to the steading to meet up with Jim. I didn’t mind the damp cold; I was just glad I was awake and on time. Dangling the keys to the Beast as I approached, I said, “I’ll drive if you give me some off-road pointers.”

“Will do,” Jim swung his rangy body into the passenger’s seat. “Head off to the right on the main road and we’ll turn up the hill where you’ll see a gate.”

Ten minutes later, I pulled up in front of the gate and Jim jumped out, opening it for me to drive through and then closing it after I passed.

Once he’d climbed back in, I said, “Tell me the opportunities you see for Glenbroch on the sporting side, and then let’s talk food.”

“Right. Well, I brought in a contract stalker, Kenneth Taylor, a few years ago and he manages the annual cull of the deer. He also works for another estate and is over there this week. Bringing him in has freed up my time a wee bit. I can focus more on river keeping and general estate projects like the renovation. Working with Ryan will be the first thing I pass on to you. Do you have a meeting set up with him?”

“Yes, tomorrow. I meet with Maggie this afternoon to discuss marketing and I’ll do chores with Henry in the morning. Things are moving, but there’s so much to learn, to do. If not for Calum’s organization and your capable running of the estate, I would feel utterly overwhelmed.”

“Not to worry. We will keep doing what we do, and you slip right in as you learn. Henry has managed the livestock for the past few years now and will be passing the management to you with my support. No need to worry; he’s staying on through the first season. Take your time. You have plenty to be thinking about in the meantime.”

“Can we talk about food for a bit?”

“Aye, but you want to take this road to your left and go round the corrie.”

Calling it a road was generous, but at least it wasn’t steep; that was a plus. It kept us on the top of a scooped valley that looked as if a giant had taken a melon baller to the earth. I could scarcely believe I lived here and I wanted people to come and experience this part of the world. It was too wonderful to keep to myself.

“I think we should emphasize homegrown beef and lamb, fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden, and local sourcing for the rest. With a gifted, creative chef who shares those values, I think we can make Glenbroch a dining destination as well as a guesthouse.”

“Glenbroch’s cattle and sheep are hill raised and we could probably produce enough meat for the dining room. We can also offer venison and grouse sometimes, I reckon.” He glanced over at me. “Kenneth and I see deer stalking the same way—we only cull and don’t offer any trophy hunting. That was in line with Helen and Angus, and Gerard. How do you see it?”

“We’re on the same page. No matter what financial issues we face in the future, I have no desire to bring trophy hunters here.”

Jim nodded his head in approval. “I’d like to lead some walked-up grouse shooting now that you’re here to take over the general estate management. I want to focus more on land and river, and sporting activities of course, and leave the running of things to you. Take your time, though. I’m not wanting to rush you.”

“I understand that you’ve had more than your share of duties with my father’s unexpected death.”

“Aye, and I’m glad you’re here. You’ll do fine. When it comes to veg, Bethanne’s kept the gardens in good nick but you will need to discuss with her what you’re thinking of growing. She’ll ken what’s possible, what needs to be grown in polytunnels to produce a supply through the winter and so forth.”

“What are your thoughts on fruit and dairy, things we’re not producing?” I asked.

“Henry has a growing chicken and egg operation over on his croft; he would be a handy supplier. You have some fruit growers over on the Black Isle. There are some good dairy producers—one is not too far, near Kyle of Lochalsh. Supply shouldn’t be a problem. Bethanne can get you sorted.”

Studying Jim’s face, looking for reassurance, I couldn’t decide if I should say what was on my mind. But I needed someone to confide in. “I don’t get the idea Bethanne is glad I’m here,” I said, slowing the Beast as the road brought us to the base of a hill. The road wound around the side but the incline was steep enough to intimidate me.

“Change down now and keep climbing steady like. She’ll take the hill with no bother.”

The Beast didn’t strike me as a she. I bit my tongue, decided not to correct Jim by informing him the Beast was a “he,” and followed his instructions, focusing on the steep climb.

Jim remained silent as the vehicle bounced and ground up the steep slope. As we neared the top, he spoke. “Well, I don’t suppose Bethanne would be. Never was keen about Gerard coming back here. Helen and Angus treated her almost like a daughter. After Angus died, Bethanne spent more of her time on the estate helping Helen when her health began to fail. Gerard came back and started changing things. His cancer made him look at food differently, mind. Bethanne wasn’t keen on converting to organic gardening, and they had several rows about it. He came near to sacking her, but she has a contract that she’d had Helen sign, and Gerard didn’t want to deal with breaking it. It runs for another year, if I’m not mistaken.”

I needed to call Calum and get a copy of that contract but right now I was more interested in hearing about my father. “The attorneys didn’t tell me much at all about his cancer or what happened.” Part of me didn’t want to hear about how sick my father had become and the other part wanted to know everything. For now, I’d settle for whatever Jim decided to tell me.

“I’d come on to work at Glenbroch by then, after Angus died. Helen worried about Gerard. We all thought he had beaten it. Helen never knew the cancer had come back before she died. A small mercy.”

My grandparents’ influence echoed in the gardens, the antiques, the empty spots at the dining room table, the unfilled chairs by the fire. Their absence left an ache in me. I did have a past. All of this place and these people formed part of my history . . . part of me. But my own connection to the past had been broken and I longed to find the scattered pieces to bridge the distance between the MacKinnons and me. 

For now, I couldn’t get across the disconnected space to where my past lived, to a genuine sense of heritage. This came from being adopted, at least for me—the sense of being cut off from history, from what had been before. It felt as if I had fallen to earth from nowhere.

But I hadn’t. Although a MacKinnon family history would never live in my memory, it formed me along with everything since—all of the parents and caretakers, experiences, loves and losses that had come in the past thirty-four years. 

Some people say not having a family could be a good thing. Grass is greener I suppose, but I didn’t know much about that. I’d had to learn how to develop permaculture a long time ago. Relatively little was needed for my heart to sustain just enough hope not to go numb or mad, or thrash other people, but I absolutely needed that small bit of hope or who knew . . .

“I wish I had met Helen, and Angus.”

“Helen knew about you.” Jim waited until I looked at him and acknowledged by a faint nod that I’d heard.

She had known I existed? Why hadn’t she tried to contact me?

“I don’t know exactly when Gerard told her, but it must have been after he got cancer the first time. Don’t know what happened over in the States between your mother and Gerard and how you ended up growing up with other parents. When Helen found out, she was none too happy. Don’t think she knew I’d heard her and Gerard. They had a terrible row over it. Didn’t speak for a good while. I believed then Helen intended to leave Glenbroch to John MacIver. That man held a special place in her heart. And I think the same held true for him. In the end, Gerard inherited. And now you, a MacKinnon; it’s as it should be. Though it’s surprising he borrowed money from John.”

“Did Helen have anything to do with Gerard leaving me Glenbroch? Did that play into her decision not to give it to John?”

“I can’t say for certain. I do know if Gerard hadn’t come back, I don’t know what your grandmother would have done with Glenbroch. She might have had you in mind. Calum would know if anyone does.”

“My grandmother thought highly of John MacIver?” How could a blood relation to me care about someone like John?

Jim smiled but said nothing. His calm demeanor reminded me of my parents. At least that’s how I remembered them, forever as they were in my five-year-old eyes. How different life would be if they had never died. My parents would be in their seventies now if still alive. I imagined Jim was in his late fifties—a bit older than Gerard and John MacIver. Being around Jim stirred a faint memory of being near my dad, Patrick. They both had a steady, quiet way that made me believe things would be all right.

Talking subsided and we bumped along the rutted road that ran around the side of the hill, with only the patter of soft rain to break the silence. Soon the rain turned into mist, which began to settle thick and low in the glen. I gripped the wheel and leaned forward, as if this would help me see.

“Relax and take your time. You’ll get used to driving in this weather. You’re in the West Highlands and the ground is always wet for a reason. Pull up next to the river, just there, and we’ll get out for a few minutes.”

The river ran shallow and narrow in the spot where we stopped. I had half expected a wide, rushing river and said so.

“When the river is in spate, salmon fishing is possible here. When the level of Loch Moran rises, it brings them in here—the river only runs strong a few months out of the year. We’ll have to make the most of it,” Jim said. “Meant to tell you, I got a call earlier from Henry. He’s not able to help out today with the weaning. We’ll head over there and see what we can get done.”