‘I haven’t seen Rory for years.’
‘You had three nephews,’ Jake prodded. He wanted family interest-he wanted any interest-and he was prepared to make himself even later to get it. This had to be his top priority. To see Angus give up on life was heartbreaking, and maybe these two women could be his salvation.
‘I’d be having two brothers,’ Angus whispered, so softly that Jake had to strain to hear. ‘We left Scotland together. Dougal, the youngest, went to America. David and I came here. Dougal and I lost touch a long time ago-yes, there’s another nephew somewhere, but I’ve not met him. But David married here and had Rory and then Kenneth. They moved from Dolphin Bay but the lads came back for holidays.’
‘Were they nice kids?’ Jake murmured, encouraging him.
‘Rory loved this place,’ Angus said softly. ‘He and I would be fishing together for hours, and Deidre and I loved him like the son we could never have. But Kenneth…’
Kenneth. Jake couldn’t suppress a grimace. It had been a dumb question. Kenneth definitely couldn’t have been nice.
‘Kenneth was Rory’s younger brother.’ Angus was struggling hard to breathe. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking, but Jake didn’t intend to interrupt. There were major issues at stake here-like a ready-made family at the front door. If Kirsty really was a doctor… If he could install her here…
‘Kenneth is a troubled young man and I’m sure you can be seeing that,’ Angus managed. ‘You’ve met him. He takes after his father. Every time Rory came near there was a fuss, more and more as they got older and Kenneth realised Rory would inherit my title. As if any title matters more than family.’
He paused and fought for a few more breaths. There was an ineffable sadness in his eyes that seemingly had nothing to do with his health. ‘Kenneth was so vicious toward Rory that, once his parents died, Rory decided family angst wasn’t worth it,’ he said sadly. ‘He took off to see the world. He’s been away these past ten years, and the next thing I knew Kenneth was telling me he was dead. I was so…sorry.’
So maybe Kirsty had been telling the truth, Jake thought. Maybe she did know nothing of Angus. For a moment he regretted he’d made her angry. But then he remembered the flare of crimson in her cheeks and the flash of fire in her brown eyes and he didn’t regret it. He found he was almost smiling.
This was looking good, he thought. This was looking excellent. Angus had been fond of Rory. Rory’s widow was at the gate, and if Rory’s widow was anything like her sister…they could be a breath of fresh air in this place. A breath of life.
‘They’re outside, waiting,’ he said. ‘I told them to give me a minute and then follow.’
‘Who?’ Angus was lost in his thoughts, and was suddenly confused.
‘Rory’s widow and her sister.’
‘Rory’s widow,’ he repeated.
‘So it seems.’
‘Kenneth didn’t tell me he was married.’
‘Maybe Kenneth didn’t know.’
Angus thought about that and then nodded, understanding. ‘Aye. Maybe he wouldn’t. Rory learned early to keep things to himself where Kenneth was concerned.’
‘But you’d like to see them?’
‘I’d like to see them,’ Angus agreed.
‘Could you give them a bed for the night?’ Jake asked-diffidently-and held his breath.
The old man considered. He stared through the window down at his garden-his vegetable patch, where Jake knew he was longing to be right now.
Since his illness he’d drawn in on himself. He barely tolerated the housekeeper being here. Could he accept strangers?
How much had he loved Rory?
Jake held his breath some more.
‘Rory’s widow,’ Angus whispered at last. ‘What would she be like?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jake told him. ‘I only met the sister. Kirsty. She seems…temperamental.’
‘What does temperamental mean?’
‘I guess it means she’s cute,’ Jake admitted, and Angus gave a crack of laughter that turned into a cough. But when he recovered there was still the glimmer of a smile remaining.
‘Well, well. Signs of life. Time and enough, too. That wife of yours has been gone too long.’
‘Angus…’
‘I know. It’s none of my business. You’re saying these women are at the gate now?’
‘Yes. I’ll go and let them in if it’s OK with you.’
‘You think they should be staying here?’
‘I think they should stay.’
Angus surveyed his doctor for long moment. ‘She’s cute?’ he demanded, and he seemed almost teasing.
‘Not Rory’s wife,’ Jake said stiffly. ‘I’ve only met-’
‘I know who you’d be talking about,’ Angus said testily. ‘Rory’s wife’s sister. She’s cute?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘And if she’s staying the night…You’ll be back in the morning.’
‘Yes, but-’
‘Let’s leave the buts,’ Angus said, and his lined face creased into mischief. ‘I’ll not be flying in the face of providence. Cute, eh? Well, well. Of course they can stay.’
CHAPTER TWO
OK, SO Angus was matchmaking but that was fine by him. Anything to get him to agree to have them stay, Jake decided as he made his way down the magnificently carved staircase.
He walked out the front door and stopped.
He’d left his car blocking the castle entrance, with only just enough room for a pedestrian to squeeze past. The verge on either side was rough, corrugated by recent rains.
He’d expected Kirsty and her sister to walk along the cobblestones.
What had happened was obvious. One of the women hadn’t been able to walk.
Halfway along the walkway was a wheelchair, upturned. A woman was lying in the mud. Kirsty was bending over her.
Jake took one look and started to run.
She was Kirsty’s sister. There was no doubting it. An identical twin? Maybe. The similarities were obvious but there were major differences. The girl lying in the mud was heavily pregnant. Her face was bleached white and a fine hairline scar ran across her forehead. She lay in the mud and her eyes were bleak and hopeless. Jake had seen eyes like this before, in terminally ill patients who were alone and who had nothing left to live for. To see this expression on such a young woman was shocking.
‘Oh, Susie, I’m so sorry,’ Kirsty was saying. She was kneeling in the mud, sliding her hands under Susie’s face to lift her clear. ‘There was a rut. It was filled with water and I didn’t realise how deep it was.’
‘What’s happening?’ Jake knelt and automatically lifted the woman’s wrist. ‘You fell?’
‘You really are smart,’ Kirsty muttered, flashing him a look of fury. ‘I tipped her out of the wheelchair. Susie, what hurts? Have you wrenched your back? Don’t move.’ She sounded terrified. One hand was supporting Susie’s head; the other was holding her sister down.
Jake’s fingers had found the pulse, automatically assessing.
‘Did you hurt yourself in the fall?’ he asked, and the young woman in the mud shook her head in mute misery.
‘I’ll live.’ She put her hands out to push herself up, but Kirsty’s expression of terror had Jake helping her hold her still.
‘What do we have here?’ He held the woman’s shoulders, pressuring her not to move. ‘Can you stay still until I know the facts?’ He spoke gently but with quiet authority. ‘I don’t want you doing any more damage.’
‘She suffered a crush fracture at T7 five months ago,’ Kirsty told him in a voice that faltered with fear. ‘Incomplete paraplegia but sensation’s been returning.’
‘I can walk,’ Susie said, into the mud.
‘On crutches on smooth ground,’ Kirsty told Jake, still holding her twin still. ‘But not for long. There’s still leg weakness and some loss of sensation.’
‘Let me get my bag.’
‘I can get up,’ Susie muttered, and Jake laid a hand on her cheek. A feather touch of reassurance.