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‘A fine morning to you, Katriona Carmichael,’ Donald greeted her as she caught up with him on his way back with the cows.

‘And to you, Donald Macdonald,’ Katriona returned with a happy smile, stopping to pat the old white cow. ‘Fancy calling her the young one, she must feel flattered as she’s nearly thirteen years old.’

‘It does no harm to flatter the ladies,’ Donald told her, his brown eyes laughing down at her. ‘No harm at all, at all.’

‘You’re an awful man, Donald. It’s no wonder half the girls on the island would be happy to give Jeannie a rest from housekeeping for you.’

‘So they would, no doubt,’ Donald grinned at her. ‘The trouble being, of course, that I have given my heart to a feckless lassie who lives over the water.’

‘Oh, if she’s all that feckless,’ Katriona retorted, 'I'd give her a miss and settle for someone nearer home.’

Donald held the door open for her. ‘I have thought of it, but I’m a patient man and I’m prepared to wait a while longer. She’s a bonnie lassie with hair as red as fire and a temper to match, and her eyes are as blue as the bluebells, but not very bright, if you follow me. Sure, she will realise soon what a fine bargain she’s missing, and snap me up ...’

Katriona whirled past him to speak to Jeannie. ‘You’ve got an awfully conceited brother, did you know that, Jeannie?’

Jeannie laughed merrily. ‘Of course. How could he be anything else when all the women spoil him so? Now, stop your sparring and wash up. The porridge is ready on the table. I saw you come flying down the hill.’

Later, seated at the table enjoying her breakfast, Katriona felt relaxed and happy. The sun streamed in through the kitchen window and the open door, and borne on the wind was the lilting skirl of the pipes from the croft over the field. ‘Young Helen really puts her heart into those pipes.’

‘Indeed she does,’ Jeannie agreed. ‘And she’s being taught by Angus himself, who has won more cups than I would care to mention. But it is not your heart or mine that she is hoping to steal away with her piping.’ Jeannie slanted a teasing glance at her brother.

Donald rose and pushed back his chair, ‘Oh, she knows a fine braw man when she sees one. You’ll be coming to church with us, Katriona?’

‘Yes, I will.’ Katriona laughed impishly. 'I can’t resist the thoroughly un-Christian looks I get from the local girls when I walk in on your arm, Donald my love!’

Donald’s brown eyes were unusually serious although he spoke lightly. ‘Any day that you are willing we will walk down that aisle together, and you can have the permanent satisfaction of knowing you are married to the finest man on the island.’

Catching the troubled expression in Katriona’s eyes, Jeannie spoke sharply. ‘Away with you, Donald. You’re an awful tease. Leave us women to have some talk together.’ As they cleared the dishes and washed them, Jeannie said, 'I wish you were not going away so soon. Your holiday has simply flown by.’

'I know it has,’ Katriona agreed sadly. 'I love it here. I do hate to go back to the city. But yourself, Jeannie—aren’t you getting impatient to go back to Glasgow? I know you had no choice when Ena died. You had to come home and see to Donald and the house. But that was almost two years ago. Is Bruce not getting angry at all the waiting before you can marry?’

Jeannie had a lovely smile. ‘Impatient, yes, you could say that. But he knows I would not be happy if I left Donald to fend for himself. Bruce and I don’t have to snatch at our happiness at someone else’s cost. We
are
content to wait.

Although it troubles Donald. He has mentioned several times lately that he should get a housekeeper. I know it worries him more than it worries us.’

There was a long silence between them as they tidied up and then sat in the sunshine on the doorstep together.

At last Katriona spoke. ‘I can’t marry him, Jeannie. I love Donald dearly, but it’s the same way that I love you. I’m closer to you two than anyone else on earth, you’re almost family. I know we’re only distantly related, and that my mother had a distinct nerve dropping me on Ena, when she couldn’t be bothered with me herself.’

‘Hush now, don’t be upsetting yourself. You know full well Ena loved having you.’

'I can’t marry Donald. I don’t think I’ll ever marry. The way my mother lived was enough to put me off marriage for life. She’s working on her fifth husband now. The last time I saw her she was wearing all her previous wedding and engagement rings. It was rather horrible, somewhat like an Indian brave wearing his scalps on his belt to show how many men he’d destroyed. I hated that way of life. I know I shouldn’t keep coming back here for my holidays. It’s not fair to Donald, but this place is the nearest thing to home that I’ve ever known.’

‘Don’t sound so forlorn, my pet.’ Jeannie put her arm round the younger girl and gave her a hug. ‘Of course this is your home, the same as it is mine and it is Donald’s. Don’t you dare stay away because that foolish lump of a
brother has fallen in love with you. He’ll get over it just fine.’

‘Do you really believe that?’ Katriona asked hopefully.

‘Of course I believe it,’ Jeannie replied briskly. ‘Or at least he’ll come to terms with it, which is the same thing. He’s a born romantic, that brother of mine ... he’ll stay a little in love with you always. But he’ll settle for that and quite sensibly marry some sweet little lass from the Island. He will be very happy with her and she with him, and they will rear a fine clutch of children. And that’s the truth.’

Katriona giggled. ‘I’m so relieved. I’ve been feeling quite wretched about the whole thing. I know he’s going to propose and I’ve been dreading the day. It seems such, a scurvy way to treat you both when you’ve been so kind to me.’

‘Fiddlesticks! You’ve never been less than honest with Donald, and you can’t fall in love to suit your friends. But about yourself, Katriona ...’ Jeannie hesitated before going on. ‘I never met your mother, but I’ve heard a great deal about her from you and from Ena. I am of the opinion that she is a very immature person, insecure too, always needing a new man to love her. You must not judge all men by the behaviour of your mother’s companions, nor on her experience of marriage. Why, if you feel like that, are you so happy for Bruce and me?’

‘But you and Bruce are made for each other,’ Katriona protested.

Jeannie laughed gaily. ‘That’s true. So why not believe that somewhere there is a man who is made only for you?’

‘I hope not,’ Katriona answered vehemently. ‘He’ll have a very lonely life if he’s waiting for me. It’s right for some, but not for me. I despise most men. Not Donald nor Bruce, nor Mr Drummond, but in general they’re not up to much. You see, I saw too much of love when I was small. My mother could twist most men around her little finger. She could praise them and flatter them and make them feel like kings, and they would be crazy about her. That would satisfy her for a wee while, then she would treat them like dirt, and they would grovel. It was humiliating, it was degrading ... great big grown men. I couldn’t understand it when I was a child and I still can’t understand it. Those men, they were much more intelligent than she was, much stronger than she was, some of them very wealthy and holding important public positions, yet she could reduce them to miserable lapdogs.’

‘Poor fellows,’ Jeannie said softly. ‘They must have loved your mother very much, and what an ugly, painful experience it must have been for them. And for you too, Katriona. You say you have seen too much of love when you were small. I do not think you saw much real love at all. Lust, maybe, greed, pride, vanity, you saw, but not genuine honest love. I think you have grown up with a
worm’s eye view of the world and of people, and I find it sad ...’

Katriona stood up abruptly. ‘I don’t think it’s sad, I think I’ve been exceedingly fortunate. I don’t walk through life waiting for some dimwitted Prince Charming to come and rescue me, the way some stupid girls dream. I go to work happily, and I’m good at my work, because I know that’s where my security lies. I don’t have to be beholden to my mother for favours. I don’t have to wait for her to call me to her side when she’s having one of her rare maternal spells, or wait for the odd moment when she’s feeling generous to throw some money my way. I can support myself, thank God, and I have no intention of cluttering up my life for any man.’

Jeannie got to her feet slowly, and chuckled, 'Poor wee girlie, you’re in for an awful shock one of these days. I can see a man who’ll come storming into your life, not noticing all those prickly barriers you’ve erected. He will only see what he wants to see, not a bitter angry young girl but an honest, very beautiful young woman, who is also highly intelligent and who possesses a warm and loving heart, and a rare generosity.’

‘Who are you?’ Katriona jeered. ‘A seer? You should set up like the gypsies and tell fortunes. Did you get my “man” from the same place as you got Donald’s sweet young wife and his brood of children? I hope not, because I almost believed in them. Oh, you’re
ridiculous
! I’m off to change for church. Beautiful—huh! What an imagination!’

Katriona raced upstairs, torn between anger and hysterical laughter. Oh, Jeannie was a right comic. She heard Jeannie greet the returning Donald.

‘Oh, Katriona. She went upstairs in a fine red-headed rage because I said she was beautiful and had a generous nature.’

Donald sounded puzzled. ‘Strange reason for getting into a temper. Katriona
is
beautiful.’

Katriona lingered by the window long enough to hear Jeannie say with a laugh. ‘Just try telling her so, and she’ll box your ears! She is convinced that she is still the skinny carrot-topped teenager with the gap-toothed smile and freckles who came here from school for her holidays.’

Well, so she was, or is, thought Katriona as she changed into her elegant Edinburgh suit. She glanced into the mirror and twitched her skirt into place. Fine feathers made fine birds. Actually she resembled a well-dressed broom handle, nothing more. She had no nice womanly curves like Jeannie. She took a closer look at the mirror trying to be objective. Beautiful she wasn’t... that much was certain. But she had changed a little. Maybe her hair could now be described as rich auburn if you had a vivid imagination. She still had that annoying gap between her front teeth, and she still had freckles, just a few. Her face was all angles ... like a badly drawn triangle. She saved her one good feature until the last, her delicately arched eyebrows and very dark, very long eyelashes, which made her blue eyes not so bad. Suddenly impatient, she rammed a smart blue cap on her somewhat subdued red curls, and went downstairs.

Donald joined her a few minutes before Jeannie, and with a wicked grin remarked, ‘Very fetching. I would say very beautiful except Jeannie warned me not to. She said you would fetch me a clip on the lug if I paid you a compliment. You would never do that to me, would you, Katriona Carmichael?’

'I would indeed,’ Katriona informed him firmly. ‘If anyone is beautiful, it’s yourself in your Sunday best, Donald. You’re a remarkably handsome man.’

‘That is the truth,’ Donald answered complacently.

‘My, my, and you’re so modest with it,’ Katriona teased.

‘It is my worst failing, my modesty,’ Donald assured her solemnly.

Jeannie came flying down the stairs. ‘Come away, you two, and stop your nonsense. I cannot abide being late for church.’

An hour later when the service was over Katriona walked out into the sunshine, feeling at peace with the world. It was a wonderful old church, and die singing as always had been simply glorious, and the sermon sincere and forthright.

People gathered in small groups, exchanging news and stories of the happenings of the island. Standing with Jeannie and Donald Katriona enjoyed the way they could change from English to the Gaelic without even being aware of it. It did not bother her that she could not follow the conversation all the time. She loved hearing the lilting, laughing language, and watching the animated gesture and expression of the speakers.

Katriona knew the odd word, and heard her own name mentioned several times as Jeannie chatted with a woman who worked at the Lodge.

‘Elspeth was after saying that they have a New Zealander staying at the Lodge,’ Jeannie translated for Katriona’s benefit.

‘Interesting,’ said Katriona. ‘Has he kin on the island? Or does he know someone from here?’

‘No, he has no kin on the island. The way Elspeth tells it, he is trying to find a girl by the name of Katriona Carmichael who is holidaying here.’

Katriona’s expression changed from mild interest to shock, followed by disbelief, then anger. Her blue eyes flashed. ‘Blood and sand! Did he give his name? Oh, please find out, Jeannie! ’

‘That is an awful expression for a lady to use,’ Jeannie gently reproved her.

‘I’m sorry. Mr Drummond uses it as an appropriate oath on specially provoking occasions, and I’ve got a horrid feeling that Elspeth’s answer is going to provoke me ... not to mention spoil my holiday.’

Slightly mollified, Jeannie turned and questioned Elspeth, and Katriona listened alertly to the flood of Gaelic she got in reply. She did not need Jeannie to confirm the name; she knew it already.

‘His name is Morgan Grant,’ Jeannie said at last. ‘And I cannot see how he can spoil your holiday. Elspeth says he’s a fine young man, with lovely manners. In fact she is quite taken with him. Says he has “the look of an islander”, which is high praise indeed. And she is no mean judge of character.’

1 don’t care if he comes fur-trimmed and gift-wrapped,’ Katriona replied furiously. ‘He tried to see me at the office before I came on holiday and I refused to see him. How
dare
he follow me up here?’

Jeannie laughed. ‘Obviously a very determined young man. Is he in love with you, Katriona? I am looking forward to meeting him, and that’s the truth.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ Katriona said savagely. ‘He’s one of the endless supply of idle young men my mother sends on to see me. Honestly, Jeannie, they’re
awful
! It eases her conscience to say to any of her set who are travelling to this country, “Do pop in and see my darling wee girl, when you’re in Edinburgh. I worry about her so!”’ Katriona mocked her mother’s syrupy voice, then resumed her natural tone. ‘Please, Jeannie, I beg of you, ask Elspeth not to tell him where I’m staying. Stall him off until I leave on the boat in the morning.’