Page 24 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

Chapter Ten

Seconds froze as the older man realised I’d spotted him.

With a look of horror gripping his face, he took a few stumbling steps backwards in his hurry to get away.

Bronte careered towards the front door, her body tense and her barking frantic.

I hurried after her, my heart pumping. What on earth did he think he was doing, peering in like that? Who was he and what did he want?

Despite my insides twisting with shock and fear, I yanked the door open to peer up and down to see where he’d gone.

There was no sign of him.

Bronte appeared by my leg and shot out in a blur of ears, tail and curls. ‘Bronte! Stop! Here! Come back!’

But she was gone, leaping over the little picket fence and to the right, down towards the path that led to the bay and its modest strip of sand. She seemed to be on a mission to find whoever frightened me.

‘Shit!’ I gulped, whirling around and flapping about on the step, feeling helpless. What if she got lost or got into trouble in the water? I couldn’t lose her. I’d lost enough.

I dived back inside the cottage for my coat, boots and scarf. I shoved them on and snatched up my front door key and mobile. I raced out the door, slammed it behind me and locked it. ‘Bronte!’ I screamed into the biting wind. I let out a few fierce whistles in the hope of attracting her attention, but there was no sign of her.

I raced down the garden path, not bothering to close the gate behind me. I called her name again, whipping my head in all directions as I searched for her.

‘Excuse me? You, okay?’

Flustered, I jerked my head round.

It was Mitch. Kane was by his side, sniffing the air.

My voice was all wobbly. ‘No, I’m not. I just had a prowler staring in through the sitting room window, and now Bronte’s chasing after him.’

Mitch pulled a sceptical face. ‘A prowler? Around here? Are you sure? Maybe it was a salesperson or a cold caller?’

I glowered up at him, in a mixture of panic and frustration. I could feel myself prickling under his turquoise stare. ‘Oh, is this a new thing? Cold calling by gawping in people’s windows rather than knocking on the front door? I must’ve missed that.’

Mitch gave me a measured look from under his dark brows. ‘Or perhaps it was someone who was lost?’

I started to pick up even more speed towards the path. My voice was cracking. ‘Sorry, but I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to find her.’

Mitch’s voice kept on behind me. ‘What I mean is, he could’ve been a tourist, looking for directions, maybe?’

I peered down at the bay and then nodded my head so hard. I was in danger of snapping my neck. I couldn’t see Bronte anywhere. ‘Yep. You’re right. Of course. Someone would be looking for directions by staring into my sitting room. He wouldn’t have knocked and asked the way, would he? That would be too normal.’

I could see my sarcastic comebacks were making Mitch’s teeth grind, but I didn’t care. I cared about very little at the moment. All I wanted was Bronte to come barrelling towards me, with her tongue flapping out of her mouth.

‘What I’m saying to you, Ms Winters, is are you certain it was a prowler?’

‘No, I just made it up. I’ve lost everyone and everything I’ve ever loved and I’m bored so I decided I needed to…’

One of his dark brows shot up to his hairline. He gave me a long look. ‘I’m sorry.’

My cheeks blanched. I was struggling to look at him.

‘About your husband.’

I drew up at the top of the path. Hurt rippled inside me. ‘Well, the broadcasting service around here has been busy.’

Mitch looked at me.