Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
This was the part I hated most.
Saying goodbye to the kids at the ferry port.
“Aye.” Angus nodded. “All good.”
“For the millionth time, we have everything, Dad.” Heather smirked and then wound her arms around my neck.
I hugged her probably a wee bit too tightly. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
Heather pulled back, searching my face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Was it?
Since that night with Taran in the station, I’d felt like I was barely holding the pieces of my life together. “I know, flower.”
My daughter frowned. “You’ve been sad for the last few days, and I don’t think it’s just about me leaving for uni.”
The urge to protect her from my feelings was so inherent I almost shrugged off her words and told her I was fine. But I saw the tiny frown of disappointment etch between her brows as she read me. Angus was distracted watching the ferry crew anchor the boat, so I murmured to Heather, “I tried to talk to Taran. It didn’t go well.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Heather … it was bad. It was really bad.”
“If Taran can upset my very stoic father this much, then she really means something to you. She matters. So, you keep trying. Like me. Hazel got mad at me on the phone for supposedly not trusting her, but am I going to let that sit between us? No. As soon as I get off this bloody boat, I am going to find my girlfriend and fix things. Because she matters.”
“You’re smarter than me. We knew this already.”
She chuckled. “Well, learn from me, Dad. Because when I come back here, I need you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
Emotion thickened my throat at the slight wobble in her words. “I’m happy already.”
“No.” Heather studied me thoughtfully. “I know you love me and Angus, and I know we make you happy. But looking back on everything, I don’t think you’ve ever been really happy our whole lives, Dad. And now I know why.” She gestured toward the coffee shop. “I think your happiness is in there. You’re just going to have to work for it.”
I was at once knocked off my feet by her observation and amused by her cheeky tone at the end. “I said it was bad, Heather … I didn’t say I was giving up.”
Her answering grin made me feel about ten feet tall. Then she smacked my arm and said, “Attaboy!”
My mock unimpressed look sent her into a fit of giggles, and the sound elicited a bittersweet ache in my chest. In September, I’d drive her to Glasgow and leave her there to start her life. Without me. My house would no longer ring with the sound of those giggles or her shrieking at Angus over some misdemeanor or Angus yelling her name in a whine of outrage.
That time was almost past.
The ground shifted beneath my feet as if I stood on the ferry instead of onshore.
“Dad?”
“All good,” I promised her because I was determined I would be.
“Dad, you didn’t say anything about the games.” Angus came running over, a deep frown furrowing his brow.
“The games?”
“It’s the Highland Games next week. I just saw a poster.”
“I know.”
Heather made a face at her brother. “Why do you think Dad was practicing with the band last night? He’s playing the end-of-games’ ceilidh.”
“Are you not competing?” My son looked confused.
The Highland Games had an entire event dedicated to pipe bands. However, the pipe bands that traveled onto Glenvulin to perform were three times our size or bigger. There was no competing against a full pipe band. “No, not this time.”
“Well, I suppose if you’re not playing, I’m not missing anything. But I do like it when they throw the massive logs. You should do that!”
Angus referred to the caber toss. “Pretty sure there’s an art to caber tossing.”
“Fine. Guess I’ll be okay missing it.”
I experienced that wee gnaw of regret that it wasn’t in my power to make sure Angus was here for the Highland Games.
After helping my kids on board with their luggage, I hugged and kissed them goodbye and walked back down the gangplank with a clenched jaw and an anguished gut.
It didn’t matter how many times I’d done this over the last two years, it was fucking brutal.
I waited for fifteen minutes for the rest of the passengers to board and for the ferry to leave. It had just pulled away from the harbor when I felt a nudge against my upper leg. Glancing down, I found Akiva, Ramsay’s Alaskan malamute, rubbing her face against me. She’d never been a particularly affectionate dog, however it seemed Tierney had not only softened Ramsay but Akiva too. I petted her furry head in thanks.
“I tried to get here before the kids left.”
I glanced over my shoulder to find Ramsay approaching.