Page 6
Story: Under Loch and Key
“I said don’t call me that,” she grouses, which only makes me want to keep calling her that.
I point to the road stretching ahead. “The MacKay farm is just at the end of the way there.”
“Oh?” She sits up in her seat, and I catch sight of white teeth pressing against the red plush of her lower lip. “That one?”
She gestures to the sprawling white building with several smaller structures littered across the property.
“Aye,” I confirm. “That’s the one.”
She seems…nervous. More increasingly so by the second.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” she mumbles.
“A bad idea?”
“What if she won’t see me?”
I press on my brakes, turning in my seat with narrowed eyes. “Hold on. She doesn’t know you’re coming?”
“No,” Key tells me with a shake of her head. “It’s a…surprise.”
“Bloody hell,” I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Rhona doesn’t like surprises. You could have played this a lot smarter.”
“If you don’t stop insinuating that I’m stupid,” Key says with an icy tone, “then I’m going to punch you.”
“Is that right?” I can’t help the smirk that forms on my mouth. Now that I’ve met her, I can’t say that I’m all that scared of her, despite my father’s warnings.“I’d like to see that.” I poke at her arm. “These wee things could do damage, you think?”
“You’re an asshole,” she seethes. “How do you even know my grandmother doesn’t like surprises, huh? Better yet, why even offer to bring me here in the first place?”
“It was on the way,” I tell her with a shrug.
“On the way? What? Do you live nearby?”
I chuckle softly, shifting the Rover back in gear and continuing down the lane as the massive farmhouse grows nearer.
“No,” I tell her, shooting her a sly grin as I anticipate her flush and her look of shocked outrage. “I livehere.”
?I grab one of Key’s bags as we come to a stop near the front door, pulling my jacket up over my head and pulling the piece of luggage out of the Rover before she can surely protest my help. The sooner I get her out of this rain, the sooner I can stop freezing my arse off. I hear her muted protests for only a second before I shut the door, and then she’s tumbling out the other side with her other bag in hand, shivering a little under the still-steady downpour.
I ignore the fleeting urge to offer her my jacket—the awning isright thereafter all—instead ushering her toward the front door and under the covered overhang that saves us from the worst of the onslaught. I watch her shudder beneath her thin sweater, and I frowndespite myself, opening my mouth to say…something. What, I’m not sure.
The front door opens before I get the chance, and then Rhona MacKay herself is standing in the doorway, her gray braid hanging over one shoulder and her lined face offering an amused smile as she takes me in.
“There you are,” she says. “Thought you might drown in this weather. Look at you. You’re completely drookit.”
“Aye,” I offer, keeping my expression passive. “It’s a good one.” I gesture beside me at the still-shivering mess of wet red curls, watching Rhona’s gaze follow the motion. “Rhona, this is—”
Rhona sucks in a breath, and by the widening of her eyes, it’s clear she knows who Key is, although how, I can’t say. Her mouth parts in surprise as her hand reaches to press against her chest, and for a moment, there is nothing but the steady thumping of rain against the roof and all around us as no one says anything.
“Rhona,” Key tries, her voice sounding small. “I’m—”
“I know who you are,” Rhona says, her voice breathless but still carrying a slight edge. “And you shouldn’t have come.”
It’s none of my business, but I don’t miss the way Key visibly withers. In fact, it’s in my best interest to be involved with whatever is happening as little as possible, and yet…I can’t deny the fleeting urge to comfort Key as sadness colors her features.
I stamp it down quickly. She’s a MacKay, and a stranger at that.
I remind myself that Keyanna MacKay is no business of mine.
Table of Contents
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