Morag chuckled. “Oh, I can imagine.” Her gaze flickered over me. “I still can’t believe Mac has a daughter your age. Gosh, he must have been so young.”
I’d heard the same thing repeatedly over the last eight days, mostly from nurses at the hospital who clearly had whopping crushes on my father.
An image of him and Arrochar in his hospital room floated across my mind.
It was strange to me—surprising—but from an outsider’s perspective?
Not so much.
I grimaced. The idea of my father dating a thirty-something woman wasn’t actually weird, but it was weird for me. Mac never brought women around when I was a kid, and I had no idea if he’d had any serious relationships over the past twenty-eight years.
I’d always held on to the fact that his age was a huge factor in him abandoning me … but it was never clearer than it was now that I was grown up, thinking back on myself at sixteen, that Mac was a kid when Mom had me. An actual kid.
Look how scared Regan and I were when she had a pregnancy scare at seventeen.
But would you have taken off, left your kid?
No.
Then again, neither had Mac. Not at first.
That came later, when he was older. When I was a little older. No longer his “wee birdie,” even though he’d started calling me that again.
And fuck, did it hurt every time he did.
A deep, aching tension pressed against my skull.
“I’m sorry, Robyn, I didn’t mean to say anything out of turn.”
Blinking in confusion at Morag, I realized by her expression and my sudden headache that I was practically scowling at her. “Oh. No. You didn’t. Sorry … I drifted. That was rude.”
Her face cleared. “Not at all. Are you off to visit Mac?”
“Yeah, the other sandwich is for him.”
“Oh, you should have said. Mac likes my roast beef and pickle sandwich the best.”
Another reminder that I didn’t even know what kind of sandwich my dad liked. “Then I’ll take one of those instead.”
“He always buys two. Big, strapping man like Mac.” She tittered like a schoolgirl.
God, was there anyone who didn’t have a crush on my father?
It is not Morag’s fault I am estranged from Mac, I vehemently reminded myself as I gave her a tight smile and nodded for her to make two.
Morag’s bell rang, and I glanced over my shoulder. McCulloch trudged toward us. I hadn’t seen him in the shop since that first day. Then again, I hadn’t been in this early on my other visits. But I was eager to get more of a measure of the man now that he was on my suspect list.
He had an intimidating presence, not just because of his size. It was the way his dark eyes zeroed in on me; his icy focus was surprising. I straightened as if I’d been smacked on the ass.
“Morning, Collum, I have yours here,” Morag said, turning to retrieve his daily order.
His eyes remained on me.
I raised an eyebrow, refusing to be intimidated. “Good morning.”
“You’re Galbraith’s daughter.”
I didn’t like his disparaging tone. In fact, I felt positively defensive. “I am.” Got a problem with that?
The farmer grunted. “Never understood his alliance with the Adairs.”
“Alliance? You mean friendship?”
“It isn’t friendship when you’re being paid, lass.” He narrowed his eyes. “I always warned your father to watch his back, getting caught up with the likes of Lachlan Adair. I guess I should have warned him to watch his front.”
That sounded suspiciously ominous and threatening.
“Collum.” Morag, face taut with irritation, skirted the counter to hand him his sandwich.
He snapped it out of her hands and handed over the money. Then his dark eyes returned to me. “Lachlan Adair isn’t worth protecting. Just like his old man, he’s a thieving, money-grubbing bastard. Turned this village into a sideshow with his useless Hollywood followers. Anything that happens to him, he most likely brought on himself. I wouldn’t get in the way of that if I were you, lass. Like I said, he’s not worth making yourself or your father collateral damage.”
“Collum!” Morag snapped.
But the farmer was already striding out of the shop.
My hands fisted at my sides so tightly, my nails bit into my skin.
“He didn’t mean anything by that, Robyn. His issues with the Adairs go back a long way.”
Yeah. They sure did. But that sounded a lot like a threat to me. Either he didn’t see me as someone he needed to watch his words around, or he actually didn’t care if he was a suspect. I knew from Mac that the police had interviewed McCulloch, and he’d staunchly denied having anything to do with the events at the estate.
If I were McCulloch and I wasn’t behind the crimes but I wanted revenge on Lachlan, I’d leak the situation to the press, right?
But he hadn’t.
Because he was behind the crimes, and that was a much more satisfying revenge?
If I found out Collum McCulloch had paid someone to attack my father …
“Oh, Robyn, I see what you’re thinking,” Morag said. “But Collum wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Yeah?
We’d see about that.
Thankfully, it was Jock, and not Lachlan, who let me onto the estate and then escorted me to Mac’s second-floor suite.
“How is he this morning?” I asked as we climbed the main staircase.
“Frustrated. Mac wasn’t built for bed rest,” Jock said with an amused twinkle in his eye.
I remembered what I was like on bed rest. “Yeah. I feel for him. But he has to stay put for now.”
At my warning tone, Jock smiled. It was an incredibly attractive grin that transformed him from ordinary to handsome. “Don’t worry. Mr. Adair is pulling out all the stops to make sure Mac stays in bed and is taken care of.”
“That’s reassuring,” I muttered.
The security guard chuckled as if he knew exactly how much his boss and I bothered each other. I realized Jock referred to my father by name while his other men called him Mr. Galbraith. It revealed a familiarity and friendship that perhaps the others didn’t have with Mac. Curious, I asked, “How long have you worked here?”
“As long as Mac. I hadn’t long joined Mr. Adair’s private security team when he …” His voice trailed off, his expression solemn for an instant before becoming neutral again. “When he decided to quit Hollywood and turn the estate into a members-only club.”
“And he retained your services.”
“Exactly. Mac and I have a rapport, which is essential as part of a team. It transferred to life here at Ardnoch.”
“Still, there’s a big difference between traveling around the world and being stuck in a tiny village in the north of Scotland.”
“Aye, right enough. But I missed her. Scotland. I liked the idea of being able to do my job here.”
“Are you from Ardnoch?” His accent sounded more like Mac’s.
“No, no. I’m originally from Paisley. Near Glasgow.”
“Wife? Kids?”
He eyed me. “Is this an interrogation?”
I gave a huff of embarrassed laughter. “No, actually. I was just curious. Guess I’m not so good at the small-talk thing. I didn’t realize I sounded like a cop.”