Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I see them all the time!” Morwenna slipped off the stool. “I don’t want to go.”
“You’re going and you’re wearing the dress I put out for you.”
“I don’t want to wear a dress!”
My eyebrows shot up. Somehow, I’d missed Morwenna hitting the crabby teenager age. Eilidh went through hers around the same time, whereas I was a year or two older before it hit. Dating Callie had pulled my broody head out of my arse, though.
As it would again.
Hopefully.
Mum sighed heavily. “I’m asking you to attend this party because Sarah would do it for you.”
“Sarah?” I asked.
“Cavendish,” Mum explained. She was a famous local author who married an English film writer and producer. They were in my parents’ friend circle and close to Callie’s family because Sarah was Callie’s Aunt Ally’s cousin-in-law. “Their daughter Rose is four. They bought one of the houses Allegra built so they could spend their summers here instead of in London. We’re going there today if you’d like to join us.”
I thought of Callie. “Will she be there?”
Mum knew whom I meant. “Sloane said no.”
“Perfect opportunity to go see her, then, while everyone is out.”
She gave me a knowing smile. “Very true.”
“Oh, so Lewis doesn’t have to go but I do?” Morwenna threw her arms up before crossing them over her chest. “That’s so unfair.”
“Lewis is a grown-up, but when he was your age, he attended all our family events without complaint because he understands the importance of family.”
Morwenna scoffed. “Then why has he been gone for seven years! Eilidh too! They left and now I have to put up with you smothering me because of it!”
“Morwenna,” I clipped out, sounding so much like my father, I pinched my lips shut in surprise.
My sister’s face crumpled at my angry tone. “I’m not going!” She turned and hurried upstairs.
I looked wide-eyed back at Mum. “What was that?”
She heaved a beleaguered sigh. “I’m hoping just hormones. She says it’s nothing else. We’ve checked in at school and she seems fine there. She has friends. So I’ve attempted to reassure your father that it is stupid, horrible, teenage hormones. I’d forgotten what it was like to be thirteen and a girl.”
I’d only been home a few days, but since my return, Mor had been fairly quiet and spent a lot of time in her room reading. “You said she has friends?”
Mum nodded. “Sometimes she’s happy to spend time with them, but other times she wants to be alone to read. I’m worried about her, but Ery and the others have assured me it’s a phase. And when I give her a gentle prod to be social when she’s not in the mood …” She gestured toward the stairs. “This happens. So I don’t know.”
“Want me to talk to her?” I blanched, remembering her gripe about my absence. “Or maybe not.”
“She’s not angry at you.” Mum rounded the island. “She’s mad at the world because all these hormones are flying around in her body, confusing her, but she doesn’t understand why she’s mad at the world, which is incredibly scary and lonely, and I hate it, but all she can do is go through it. All we can do is remind her we’re here. And while I understand that reading is an escape from it, I don’t want her to shut everyone out. Family or friends. So I need to push a bit, I think.”
I stared upstairs, hating that my sister was feeling that way. “I’ve thought over the years that being a girl is shit sometimes, but never more so than now.”
“Wait until you have a daughter of your own. They’re so cute for the first eleven years.” She teased and patted my shoulder. “Now, off you go. Go see the girl you came here for.”
At the weariness in the back of Mum’s eyes, I took her hand from my shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of it. “Always remember, you are the best mother a child could ask for. Mor is lucky to have you. We’re all lucky to have you.”
Tears brightened her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home, sweetie.”
“Me too.”
As I drew my motorbike to a stop outside Callie’s front door, my stomach dropped. The Volvo SUV in the driveway was her stepfather’s. There was no sign of any other vehicle.
But he’d have heard me pull up because now that I was back in the Highlands, I was riding my Harley-Davidson Fat Boy. It was my pride and joy with its sharkskin blue and chrome detailing, and its 114 engine that rumbled like only a Harley could.
That rumble, however, was my undoing as I saw Walker appear in the large front window of their bungalow.
Switching off the engine, I removed my helmet and left it on the bike. Very few people would dare to steal from me, especially outside Walker Ironside’s house.