Here With Me (Adair Family 1)

Not too long later, it was Jock himself who came out to escort Mac.

“I feel like a bloody child,” Mac grumbled.

No, just someone Lachlan would do anything to protect. Someone he wouldn’t lose.

As he marched inside to return to work, he saw the leaflet for the village ceilidh someone had left on the coffee table in the main reception. The ceilidh was held at the Gloaming a few weeks after Easter to celebrate Ardnoch’s anniversary. Although the town dated back a thousand years, it became a royal burgh in 1630. That was the date the villagers used to celebrate. This year they were celebrating its 391st anniversary as a royal burgh.

Lachlan stared down at the leaflet. He attended the ceilidh every year because it was his duty to represent Ardnoch Castle and the Adairs. Arrochar also attended, and Thane if he could get a babysitter. Even some of his members attended when they felt like it.

Thinking it a fine excuse for a distraction from a certain American, Lachlan pulled out his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t thought he’d be dialing again anytime soon.

After four rings, she picked up. “Hello, stranger.”

Lachlan smiled at the teasing tone of Leighanne’s voice. Good. She wasn’t pissed off with him, then. “How are you?”

“I’m well. Busy.”

He frowned. “Too busy to visit Ardnoch?”

She hesitated. “Visit Ardnoch?”

“I don’t know about you, but I could do with some stress relief this weekend.”

She laughed. “I see.”

“And there’s a ceilidh here on Saturday. Why don’t you come as my date? It’s all good fun. Free food and booze and then great sex afterward.”

“You are a cocky one,” Leighanne said, chuckling. “I’m sold. What time do you want me there?”

* * *

ROBYN

Exhaustion weighed my limbs down, but I got to Ardnoch without driving the SUV off the road. This time, I drove to the mews, and Fergus came out to greet me.

In no mood for small talk, I did my best because he was such a jolly, friendly guy. We’d only spoken a few times, but every single time meant I pushed him further down my suspect list. He seemed devoted to the Adairs, appreciative of his job, which he loved, and that put a great big dent in his possible motive.

Unlike someone else.

“You look tired,” Fergus said, brows pinched. “You all right?”

“Fine. Just a long night in a trailer during a storm.”

He winced sympathetically. “I lived in a caravan for a while. It’s not so nice during bad weather. You should find somewhere else to stay. Somewhere safer in storms. That is … if you’re going to be here a while?”

I shrugged a non-answer, thanked him, and walked out of the mews and down the gravel drive. It hadn’t been just the weather that kept me awake all night. I hated to admit it, but I was too unnerved to sleep. Keeping the lights blazing through the trailer to ward off anyone who thought they could get the jump on me, I’d sat at the dining table instead. And I pored over the contents of the box I’d retrieved from Mac’s.

Once I started reading the letters, I couldn’t have slept if I’d wanted to. Most of the letters were short updates on his life. He told me about the places he visited with Lachlan; he shared funny stories about famous people but changed their names so I wouldn’t know who he was talking about. Just like when I was a little girl, I found myself charmed by his stories. A true Scotsman, my father was a born storyteller.

As I read the letters, I could hear his deep voice narrating in my head.

He’d asked questions about my life; some of them my mom answered in the letters she sent him. She was terse but reassuring in her words—she basically made the point over and over that I was fine without him.

A low anger simmered inside me.

One day it would boil over if I didn’t confront my mom about the part she’d played in separating me from Mac.

But she wasn’t completely to blame. Mac had said so and reading his letters I concluded he was right. My dad had a wonderful life with Lachlan, and if he’d wanted to, he could have fought harder for me. It would’ve meant sacrificing his career, and ultimately he hadn’t chosen to do so. He hadn’t chosen me.

While I wanted to believe he’d come to regret that over the years, the pain was still there. Still fresh.

Yet, I had something new I hadn’t had before.

In his letters, I found truth in his love for me.

Mac did love me.

I believed that.

Now I just had to decide whether that meant I forgave him enough to move on.

First, however, I wanted to speak to Sarah McCulloch. And it wasn’t a delay tactic so I could put off speaking to Mac.