Page 123 of A Scottish Island Summer

Logan drew closer. ‘Darcie? Please, will you hear me out? Then, if you still want to head back to London, I’ll accept it.’

The driver opened his mouth to protest, but there were sighs and small smiles from the other passengers.

‘Come on. Let them talk,’ urged the elderly lady with the crossword opposite me. ‘Five minutes isn’t going to cause us any trouble, is it, Clive?’ Her husband rolled his eyes, but didn’t disagree. I think he knew better.

The driver tapped at his wristwatch. ‘You get five minutes, young man, and then that’s it.’

Logan heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Aye. Well, clock’s ticking, so you better get on with it.’

Logan turned his anxious face to me again. ‘Please, Darcie. I can’t let you go without talking to you. Will you please come off the bus for a moment?’

There were grumbles from the passengers, presumably because they wouldn’t now be able to listen in to what we were saying.

‘You don’t have to go anywhere,’ piped up the lady opposite again. ‘You can talk here.’

Her husband gave her a stern look. ‘Och, Jean, leave the pair of youngsters alone and stop being so damned nosey!’

Jean tutted and glowered back at him.

I found myself gazing up at Logan, thoughts swirling in my head. What was going on? Did he just want to say goodbye? Did he want me to apologise again, because I would. Gladly. It would be painful closure, but welcome all the same. At least I could leave Logan and Skye knowing I’d explained how stupid I’d been and how I’d always regret it. ‘Alright.’ I edged out of my seat.

Logan extended one hand and took mine.

I gazed down at his fingers furled around my hand as he guided me down the aisle, off the coach and onto the side of the road, where there was a bank of damp grass. His truck was parked in a haphazard fashion across the road, blocking the coach.

The sun was now pushing shafts of watery light through the muddy grey clouds.

‘Your video,’ he blurted, still holding my hand in his. ‘I’d no idea you’d made that.’

I glanced down at my boots and then back up at him. ‘It felt the right thing to do. It still does.’

Logan looked like he was struggling to find the right words. It wasn’t like him. ‘You know I went to Rum, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s beautiful but so remote, and the internet connection there isn’t good at the best of times. I was only receiving sporadic texts and emails. That’s why I only saw the video you made last night. And when I did…’ His voice tailed off. ‘You put your reputation on the line to protect the island, Campbell, me, the Skye Lovers’ Cross…’

I shrugged. ‘I still made a mess of things and told Justine when I shouldn’t have.’

‘Yeah. OK. You did do that, but then you immediately tried to put it right. You even risked your career.’

I couldn’t make myself look up at Logan, for fear of dissolving into a puddle in front of him. ‘I had to do what I had to do.’

‘But why?’ implored Logan. ‘Why do that? Why risk everything? I know how much your career means to you.’

‘Because I couldn’t leave here without trying to make things right.’

His chest sunk under his black waterproof jacket. ‘I knew how I felt about you and I suspected you liked me too.’ Logan’s eyes stayed focused on me. ‘But then when that blog appeared, I thought you’d used me.’

The thought stung me. ‘Why would I do something like that?’

Logan shrugged. ‘Publicity, a way of advancing your career or increasing advance orders for your book.’

Tears bunched in the corners of my eyes. ‘I would never do that, Logan. I would never use you that way.’

He nodded. ‘I know that now. But that was why I decided to get away. But I kept seeing you and thinking about you.’ He sighed. ‘Campbell texted me last night to say you were heading home today. What with that and then seeing the video, I panicked.’