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“You could ask Jack for the loan,” I say stubbornly.
“No,” he replies, equally stubborn. “No, I cannae. Because I could never pay him back. We’re mortgaged up to the hilt as it is. If I dinnae sell the place, the bank will. So I willnae be asking the Laird for any money. And I dinnae want you to do it, either.”
I shift uncomfortably on the step, wondering how he managed to read my mind.
“I’m warnin’ ye, Emerald,” he says in a stern tone I’ve never heard from him before. “This is my business. Dinnae go meddlin’ in it. Promise me.”
“Fine, I promise,” I mutter grudgingly, wishing he’d stop making me promise not to help him.
Why do some people have to be so bloody stubborn?
“Look, I’m sorry, McTavish, but I should really be going,” I say, looking at my watch. “Rose has planned some kind of date for Jack and I. She says it’s going to be super-romantic. But I could cancel, if you want me to hang around for a bit? We could do some brainstorming; see if we can come up with some ideas to save the place? Like a Kickstarter, maybe? Or, I don’t know, a jumble sale, maybe?”
I imagine myself at the front of a crowd of people, all carrying banners with McTavish’s face on them, and chantingSave Our Farm. For some reason, I’m wearing dungarees in this vision. I shake my head quickly to get rid of it.
“Go and enjoy your date, Emerald,” McTavish says, smiling for the first time since I arrived. “And tell Jack I was asking after him, will ye?”
I stand up slowly, reluctant to leave him when he’s feeling so down.
“Go,” he says firmly, reading my mind again. “There’s nothing ye can do here. There’s plenty for me to be gettin’ on with, though,” he adds, getting to his feet. “Cannae sit around here feelin’ miserable all day when there’s still work that needs done.”
“As long as you’re sure?” I say, wondering if I should call Frankie and get her to come over while I’m gone.
But McTavish just nods, the conversation clearly at a end. I turn and walk back across the overgrown yard and into the narrow lane outside it.
I really wish there was something I could do. It doesn’t seem fair that Jack and I have so much — or he does, at least — while McTavish is about to lose everything.
“Jack is lying to McTavish.”
The line from the second mystery message plays on a loop in my head all the way back to town, where it’s joined by the one about the land being rightfully McTavishes. And, by the time I get home, I’ve listened to them so many times that I’m starting to wonder if they’re true.
Chapter 16
Ihead down to the boat dock on the dot of six, wearing a vintage tulle dress I got from Bella McGowan a couple of years ago, and feeling like I’m about to go on a first date.
In a way, I suppose it’s a good thing to be feeling like this. Brian would say that when you love someone as much as I love Jack — and he loves me — theneverydate should feel like your first. Briandidsay that, in fact, as he put me through a strength workout earlier today, which almost made me cry.
“But Jack and I had a terrible first date,” I reminded him through gritted teeth as I tried to maintain the side plank Brian said I couldn’t get out of until he said so. “I spat my drink over him and pretended to be someone else.”
“Aye, but that was when you both fell in love,” says Brian, who has no idea when Jack and I fell in love, but who happens to be right, anyway. I’m not sure I believe in love at first sight, but for me, meeting Jack was… well, it was very intenselikeat first sight, I guess. And he went home and immediately started plotting how he could see me again — or so he says, anyway — so he obviously wasn’ttooput off by me.
Let’s just hope he feels the same afterthisdate.
As I make my way down the hill that leads from the house to the loch, though, I’m pretty sure the nerves I’m feeling right now arerealnerves, notexcitednerves. My body isn’t tingling with nervous anticipation, like in a romance novel. My lips aren’t parted with breathless excitement like in a … worse romance novel. Instead, my stomach is churning like Mum’s washing machine when she forgot to check Dad’s pockets last month and ended up putting the pocket knife he takes fishing through a spin cycle. And it’s not because I’m excited to be going on a date with Jack; it’s because I’m terrified that we’re going to bring the strained atmosphere that’s been following us around along with us.
I make it down to the little beach that lines the shore of the loch, and turn to walk along to the boat dock, where Rose told us to meet her. The loch is looking particularly beautiful tonight. It’s the start of summer, so the sun is still high in the sky, and it makes the surface of the water shimmer like liquid gold in its rays. In the center, the ruined castle sits on its little island, as if it’s standing guard over the loch, and, at the dock, Jack’s motorboat, theDauntless, bobs gently on the waves. It’s the perfect setting for a romantic meal for two; and, for the first time since Rose mentioned this plan, I allow myself to feel just a little bit excited.
Then I get closer to the dock and see Rose standing beside it, with… is that myDad?
“Hiya, Emerald,” he shouts as soon as I’m within earshot. “Looking braw, lass!”
“Er, thanks,” I say, giving him a hug. “But what are you doing here?”
“Well, he’s here to drive the boat, of course,” says Rose, looking pleased with herself. “So you and Jack can relax and enjoy your date.”
I blink rapidly. Jack’s boat is reasonably large for a motorboat, but it’s not a yacht — and I’m not quite sure how we’re supposed to have the “super-romantic” date Rose promised us with my dad sitting right next to us on it.
“It’s all right, I’m no’ joinin’ ye for dinner,” says Dad, reading my mind. “Yer mam made me a piece on jam to bring.”
