“I didn’t know what else to do. I needed time to think about what I wanted.” All the fight has drained out of her, but the tears keep flowing.
I need to lay it all on the line.
“Right. Well, I came all the way here. To fucking Scotland. In winter. To find you.” I dig around in my pocket, find the velvet box and hold it up. “I came here to get you back. To ask you to marry me. To take you home.”
She stares at the box but makes no move to take it. Or speak. Or look at me. My heart breaks.
“I see. I guess I wasted a trip. Because it seems like whatever you do want, it’s not me.” I throw the box on the kitchen table, along with my broken and bleeding heart. Taking the steps two at a time, I make it out to my car. I’m about to climb in when Lulu appears on the front steps.
“Nick …”
I glare at her across the roof of the rental car, feeling hollowed out and cold. “You know what? The ball is in your court, Lulu. I love you. But there’s no point if I’m the only one in it. If you don’t love me back.”
Gravel spits from under the wheels as I speed up the drive. The sheep I had approached so cautiously on my way down scatter, and I nearly collect the sweet old lady who helped me as she walks down the drive, basket in hand. But I’m too worked up to care.
When I make it onto the road, I hit the accelerator, desperate to put some space between me and the pain of the past few minutes. What I don’t expect as I careen around the hairpin corner is a herd of massive, shaggy red cows. All over the road.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lulu
Iloveyou.Butthere’s no point if I’m the only one in it. If you don’t love me back.
And then he gets in his car and screeches away. The velvet box is warm and firm in my hands. I’m shaking as I flip the lid, opening it up to the most beautiful ring I have ever seen in my life. It’s then the silent tears turn to sobs.
“Come inside,mo chridhe.” Dad appears from nowhere and, with a gentle hand on my shoulder, guides me into the parlour and onto the sofa. “There now. All this sobbing is not good for the bairn, hen.”
But I can’t stop. Hours, weeks, months go by before I can get myself under control.
“He didn’t even let me explain,” I wail.
“Hmm. Seems to be a recurring theme, no?” he says dryly.
“What? I … you … Oh, Da.” He’s right. Nick might not have given me much chance to explain, but he certainly gave me more than I gave him. And he came. All this way. With a ring. It suddenly occurs to me to wonder how he found me. Dad has always kept his private life private. Only a small handful of people know where Duncan MacLeod lives. So, Nick must have gone to considerable trouble to find me.
The front door bangs, and I leap from the sofa—he’s back. But it’s Morag’s curly grey head that appears around the door, and my heart plummets.
“What happened here, hen? I just passed the lad, tearing up the driveway like a bat out of hell. The bairn’s father, I’m thinking?”
I can feel Dad nodding, his cheek resting on the top of my head.
“Good-looking lad. Lovely manners. But from the looks of you, I’m guessing things didn’t go well?”
“He was unhappy I kept the baby news from him, Morag.”
“Oh, aye. Well, he would be, I daresay. But no doubt he’ll cool off and come back.” She puts her basket on the floor by the door and sits in the chair opposite us.
“I don’t think so. He said he couldn’t do this.”
Dad clears his throat. “No, hen, that’s no’ what he said.”
I give him the side eye.
“Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t eavesdropping. Everyone in a ten-mile radius must’ve heard you both yelling. What he said was, he couldn’t do it if he was the only one in it, if you didn’t love him back. That’s no’ quite the same thing, is it?”
And like a bolt from the blue, I realise Nick still doesn’t have any idea how I feel about him. I’ve completely bollixed this up.
Morag makes a typically Scottish tsking noise and turns to go as I leap off the sofa.
