What Lies Between (9 page)

He stared at me, and my cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment at my curt tone. He was a friend, but likely wouldn’t be for long if I didn’t chill out.

“Suit yourself,” he said flatly, then turned and strode to the top of the hill where Shayne stood waving at him. He approached her, accepted the cloth she held out to him, and they both disappeared over the rise.

Why did I feel like my own worst enemy sometimes?

I dragged the boulder underneath my chosen spot, clambered up, tied on the cloth, and whispered my wish. Now if I could only believe it might come true.

We piled into the van and Ben headed back to the main road. The rain had stopped, but trees lined the two-lane highway on both sides, shielding what lay beyond. As a curve in the road straightened, a sweeping view stretched out in front of us. Hills sloped gently upward on the distant horizon, crisscrossed in a crayon box variety of greens. A large body of water narrowed to a river as it wound inland, cleaving the base of the valley.

The van continued west, toward a skin of white mist undulating softly in the distance like a snoring jellyfish. I tuned out Shayne’s ever-present chatter and fixed my gaze on the mountains that grew taller with each mile. Ben fired up a playlist of Scottish tunes, quieting the passengers’ voices. A single fiddle worked out a mournful lament, the music conspiring with the shorn hills and the mist to lay me bare and turn me inward. The green of the valley lay behind and the moody bleak landscape surrounding us offered no solace. But this terrible magic wasn’t acting on me alone.

Shayne’s face reflected clearly in the glass on my side of the car, imposed on the scenery. A tear slipped from her eye, and I nearly exclaimed aloud. I thought I was mistaken until she wiped it away. Why did she come here of all places, and alone? Why did I care? She brushed another tear away and bit her lip in a useless attempt at checking her emotion. Another tear fell, and then another.

I didn’t want to see behind the image but couldn’t turn my eyes away. What churned and bubbled under the surface of the gleaming smile and eyes that emitted what I felt certain was a forced brightness? What was her story? I had a suspicion common ground lay in our pasts, behind the bravado. In another life I might even like her . . .

Ben pulled the van off the main road and came to a stop in a car park.

“We’ll take a quick break here at Corrieshalloch Gorge. Take your cameras, but leave the rest of your gear if you like. You have an easy five-minute walk to the bridge and the view.”

I clambered out past the second row of seats and grasped the hand offered. “Watch your step,” Todd said.

The wind blew Todd’s mass of long, sandy waves into his eyes. His face was boyish more than handsome, but chock-full of lighthearted charm and breezy attitude. Todd was probably younger than me, but I couldn’t be sure and who cared? I’d sent a message telling Chelsea about the tour, then she’d emailed back, advising I needed to loosen up and get into a vacation mood, have a fling. Todd might be a decent fling guy.

I fell in beside him and we headed toward the gate to the trail. We passed Ben, busy dropping money in a box to pay for parking, and then Shayne, biding time near the gate waiting for Ben. Her mouth curved upward as we passed, but her eyes held no expression. The woman in the van had vanished.

“You’re apprenticing?” Todd broke the silence.

I didn’t hear him at first, too busy slyly glancing back at Ben and Shayne. Her arms curled around Ben’s and her cooing voice sounded like the pigeons that roosted on the building I used to live in. My landlord would go out every day and blow an air horn to scare them off. Ben’s eyes looked glazed like he was drunk. Where was an air horn when I needed one?

“Well, not exactly an apprentice. I do sort of work with Ben, but I’m new here. I’ve come along to get familiar with the area.”

“My first time here too. My nanna left me some money, and I decided to come here and surf off the north coast.”

“The water’s got to be freezing.”

“I’ve surfed in those conditions before. It’s all in having the right kit. The waves up there are supposed to be epic. It’s always been a dream of mine to surf off Scotland since this is where my ancestors were from, and in a few days I’ll be there.”

“I understand. It’s great you’re following your dream.” I couldn’t help but smile, and it lingered on my face. Todd gave off the impression he didn’t run too deep. I envied the ability, if it was an ability, to flit through life. Or maybe he cultivated his approach. Either way, I imagined few things ruffled Todd. He was easy as vanilla ice cream—cool, smooth, uncomplicated, predictable. On the contrary, being near Ben on this trip had begun to vibrate my nerves like a tuning fork.

“Where in Scotland was your family from?” I asked.

“Well, my great-grandma was a MacLeod from the Isle of Skye. It’s way cool this tour goes to Dunvegan Castle. I can’t wait to take a squiz at the fairy flag. It has magical powers.” Todd’s eyes sparkled with the conviction of his words. “It’s true.”

“Really? Huh,” I said, not having a clue what he was talking about and pretty sure I didn’t want to get one.

“What brought you to Scotland, and where are you from in the States?” Todd asked.

I decided to try on a flirty style. “That’s a story to tell over a pint, later.”

Hardly skilled but not too bad.

“You’re on. I’m buying. I’ll have the bartender make up the most amazing drink you’ve ever had. I’m serious.”

“You just tossed out a big promise. How do you know the bartender wherever we’re going will be able to make this drink?”

“The ingredients are common but the blend is uncommon. Trust me; you’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven. And that is exactly how it got its name.”

“Well, with this buildup how could I say no?”

“Tonight you’ll experience heaven-in-a-glass.” His tone suggested there was more heaven to experience with him than what I would find in a glass.

“I could use it,” I said, turning toward him to flash my version of sultry eyes until I promptly stumbled over a clutch of rocks. He caught my arm and my hand flew to his chest for leverage. I glanced back. Ben’s face was unreadable but his eyes bored into Todd and me. I patted Todd’s chest for effect. An athlete’s body—not exactly a sacrifice to let my hand linger.

“Watch yourself, hon,” Shayne called out. “You know, ballet lessons help with clumsiness. Maybe you should get yourself signed up.”

She was asking for trouble with that condescending tone, no question, and it brought out the combative adolescent in me. I couldn’t help myself, nor did I want to. On most days I had decent confidence and could hold my own, but Shayne’s rear end could send a monkey to the moon if you bounced the creature off one of her cheeks. Not to mention her Amazonian height had her perky Barbie boobs practically slapping me in the face.

“Todd promised to do something amazing for me. In fact, he swore I’d think I’d died and gone to heaven. Careful won’t save me.” I flashed Todd my highest wattage smile, intending for Ben to interpret what I said in every way possible.

My dark, twisty payoff arrived right on cue. Ben’s brows scrunched tight, and lightning turned those pale eyes nearly white. Was that a clash of thunder?

It did briefly occur to me I should step back and treat this whole experience like the market research I had intended it to be, but when emotions possessed my brain, the best-laid plans didn’t have a chance.

Happy to leave the gorge, which nearly sent my vertigo spinning off into space, I was ready for our lunch in the fishing village of Ullapool. I held my piece of fish, caught a few hours earlier, in front of my face for a photo. The fish nearly blocked my entire head. Good as it was, I couldn’t finish it.

Ben headed the van farther down the west coast, identifying the dramatically shadowed and lit hills we passed through as part of a rugged area called Torridon. Losing myself in the stunning landscape helped calm my simmering annoyance with Shayne, and Ben for not being equally annoyed with her. I simply had to choose not to dwell on the implications of the irrational possessiveness he brought out in me.

Soon, Ben stopped at a café on the shores of Lochcarron. After a fresh, homemade scone and tea, I had nearly forgotten Shayne. Maybe that’s why people here consumed so much of both. They seemed to be the perfect antidote for a terrible mood. I browsed the gift shop and bought a tin of dark chocolate lip balm to ward off the biting wind spraying the sea loch into the air.

Winding up and over a mountain range, we soon came to yet another sea loch—this one was familiar. I looked up at the rearview mirror and Ben caught my glance, a smile lighting his eyes. Yes, I was right. I was near home. This was the loch joining up to Glenbroch’s Loch Moran; it was the loch starting at the pinched point, visible from the hilltop that first day.

A heady feeling swept over me as I took in the beauty surrounding the estate. No wonder my father wanted to return and welcome travelers here. I was beginning to understand the attraction Glenbroch could have. Maybe booking guests would be the easiest part of my job.

The van passed through a small village and began the ascent over a high, arched bridge.

“We’re crossing over the sea to Skye,” Ben announced over the speaker. “The island used to be accessible only by ferry. Since we have a MacKinnon in the van I’ll tell you a wee story about Skye. A Norse princess, Mary, wed a Scot, the MacKinnon clan chief no less. She strung a heavy chain across the kyle here, forcing boats to pay a fee to have the chain dropped if they wanted to pass through. Mary gave more than passage for their fee. Legend says she flashed them her breasts in thanks. Boat captains came not to mind the fee, and in fact many found a reason to cross the kyle. People began to refer to her as Saucy Mary, and her legend endures to this day.”

He caught my eye in the rearview mirror and shot me a wicked grin. “I wonder if any of the MacKinnon descendants are so inclined.”

I responded with a pointed
you wish
expression and turned my attention to the sea and the curving line of the island. Visibility stretched for miles due to the clear afternoon sky; a calm sea flowed between Skye and the neighboring island of Raasay. The road followed the water’s edge for several miles before breaking away from the shoreline.

And then there they were, rising across the western sky. Rough, serrated teeth cut into the hazy blue. Desolate slopes bided their time, waiting, patient.

They know I will come.

The Black Cuillin and I would have to get much closer to each other if I was to fulfill my father’s last request.

Winding farther along the island’s edge, Ben pulled into the village of Portree, our home for the next two nights. We piled out and unloaded our luggage—I didn’t look at Shayne nor fetch her bags. Constantly being on the move since arriving in Scotland had depleted my energy. Once Ben settled the others into their accommodations and led me to our B&B, I made for my room and the shower without a single word.

Ready to head to the pub after a quick nap, I knocked on Ben’s door. No answer. Unable to remember the name of the pub where we were all meeting up, I rang the bell on the private quarters’ door. The woman who ran the guesthouse told me Ben would surely have gone to the same pub that Ewan’s tours usually visited, and wrote down the name and directions. I stuffed the hand-drawn map in the pocket of my jeans and headed out across the village square.

Golden light and fiddle music poured from inside the pub, nudging me into a cheery vacation mood. Todd spotted me before I shut the pub’s door, shouted a greeting, and guided me to the bar. I glanced in Ben’s direction, but his expression was inscrutable.

Todd’s heaven-in-a-glass was worthy of the hype. Light, fizzy, and loaded with spicy ginger, the alcohol unnoticeable, I downed it quick and easy. He happily bought me another and one more for good measure. I must say I was feeling fine when I pulled Todd along and brashly challenged Ben and Shayne, who had snuggled up beside him, to billiards. My form of a duel, I suppose.

“Now hon, my daddy had a pool room in our house in Texas and I’ve played since I could point a cue.” Shayne sashayed over, picked up a cue, and then another, and rolled each across the felt before choosing her weapon. “Do you want to break or should I?” she asked.

“You’re the pro. It makes sense you should break,” I said, stepping back.

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t break, you may not ever get a chance to take aim at one of these balls.”

I leaned in close. “I’ll take the risk.”

Shayne wiggled her bottom as she lined up her shot. “Watch out back there, boys.”

I snuck a look at Ben. His eyes were focused on Shayne. Everyone’s eyes were focused on Shayne. This chick pushed my buttons, and the heaven-in-a-glass had knocked my judgment off its legs. I needed my edge back in full working order. I needed to be in dead cold control—for Glenbroch, for myself, and to win this stupid game.

The cue ball hit with a
crack
and the balls exploded in slow motion—at least it seemed slow to me—across the table. One bumped against the side, slammed into another. A ball hit the edge of the corner pocket and blocked the entrance of another headed straight in. When they all settled down, every single one remained on the table.

Maybe if I faked self-control I could get it back. Sounded like a good idea. “Look at that, would you? Amazing, isn’t it?”

Her eyes stormed with what I was sure were all kinds of uncivilized thoughts.

If this were the Highlands of a few hundred years ago, I would—what would I do? I had no idea how conflicts were dealt with back then. Settling things surely would have been more exciting than a game of pool, but it would have to do.

My best shot was from where Ben stood. I caught his eyes and pointed my cue to serve notice he needed to move. In an instant, the raucous noise of clinking glasses and loud voices disappeared. Something—I don’t know what—passed through our locked gaze, from me to him, him to me. Whatever this was pinged back and forth, slamming into my heart, exploding, running to him and back again.