The Christmas Sisters: The Sunday Times top ten feel-good and romantic bestseller!. Sarah MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.
thankful she isn’t like her father.” Stewart stood up. “Then we’d really be in trouble.”
Suzanne didn’t argue with that. She’d tried hard to like Rob because of Cheryl, but it hadn’t been easy and Stewart had actively disliked the man.
If Cheryl hadn’t met Rob, would she be alive now?
It was a ridiculous way to think, because without Rob there would be no Hannah, Beth and Posy.
“This whole thing with Hannah—” She took his hand. “I’m overcompensating, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but I understand.”
She knew he did. She also knew that the loss hadn’t only been hers. Stewart had lost the life they’d planned together, the future they’d mapped out so carefully.
And then she felt guilty, because no matter how many compromises or changes they’d had to make, they’d lived and they had a beautiful family.
“Hannah guards herself. Shuts everyone out. And I can’t blame her. No child should have to live through what she lived through.”
“They all lived through it, Suzy, not just Hannah.”
“I know, but Posy was so little she barely remembers it. Beth remembers it, but her reaction was what you’d expect it to be. Hannah was older. It was different. More complicated. And some of that was down to her relationship with Rob.” It made her heart ache to think of it. “All I want is for us to be a normal family. But we’re not, are we? We never have been. There is so much damage.” And not just to her family. She took a deep breath. “It would have been twenty-five years this week.”
It had been a day much like this one, she remembered. Changeable weather. The mountains playing a game of hide-and-seek behind the clouds.
And then the accident.
Five people had gone up the mountain and only one had walked away.
It was one anniversary she wouldn’t be celebrating.
Posy
THE GLENSAY INN was a traditional Highland coaching inn with stone floors, rustic wooden tables and a beamed ceiling. A log fire crackled and danced in the hearth and hurricane lamps hung either side of the bar. In the summer people spilled out into the garden, but on a freezing winter’s night like tonight the place was crowded, the atmosphere thickened with the smell of whiskey and locally brewed beer. A stranger venturing inside out of the cold would find warmth not only by the fire, but also in the welcome.
Posy and Luke fought their way to an empty table close to the fire.
It took about five minutes to cross the room because she knew almost everyone there and they all had something to share with her about her dad, her mom, the mountain rescue team and the weather forecast.
When they finally reached the table, a roar of laughter had them both glancing toward the bar.
“Someone is having a good time.” Luke unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair.
“I hope you weren’t expecting somewhere private.” She unwound her scarf and waved at Geoff, the landlord, who raised his hand in return. Ignoring the throng of people trying to get his attention, he walked across with two bottles of beer.
“This will get you both started.”
“Thanks, Geoff. You’re my hero. How is your knee?” Posy kissed him on the cheek and Geoff flushed to the roots of his hair.
“Playing up, but that’s the cold weather. I shouldn’t complain, but I do it anyway because this place gives me a captive audience. I hear she took you ice climbing, Luke.”
“She did.” Luke settled himself by the fire. “We climbed three long pitches of continuous ice and my muscles are screaming. And watching the way she smacked her axe into that ice—well, let’s just say I’m going to be careful not to upset her.”
Geoff put the bottles on the table. “If you want a mountain guide, you can’t do better than our Posy.”
Our Posy. As if she was somehow the property of the local community, like the books in the library.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Geoff.”
“She knows her way round these hills like I know my way round a beer barrel. There were folks who didn’t take her seriously when she first joined the team.” He rested his hands on the back of Posy’s chair, settling in to tell his story. “Back then it was mostly six-foot men, and there was Posy, this wee wisp of a thing with her hair in bunches.”
“I never wore my hair in bunches.” Posy shrugged out of her coat, showering snow onto the floor. “And the ‘wee wisp’ would love to be able to get to her beer, if you’ll excuse me.”
Geoff stepped to one side and let her sit down. “She’s the best mountain guide in these parts.”
“Hey! Can we get some service around here?” A man at the bar bellowed and Geoff’s benevolent expression was replaced by a scowl.
“You’ll have to excuse Callum. Why did you ever date him, Posy?”
“Lapse in judgment.” And she wasn’t ever going to be allowed to forget it.
That, she thought, was the major downside of living in a small community. You could never escape your mistakes, and Callum was most definitely her biggest one.
As Geoff walked away from them, she saw Luke glance toward the bar, where Callum was holding forth, and then back to her.
“You dated that guy?”
“What can I say? I was twenty-two. I didn’t know any better. We broke up after six months.” Thinking about it was embarrassing. Talking about it, more so.
His brows rose. “It lasted six months?”
“Half of that was me trying to work out how to break it off without having to move to a different part of the country.”
“I can imagine relationships can get a little awkward in a community of this size.”
“You have no idea. Callum was the first and only time I dated anyone from the village.”
“Who do you date now?”
“Mostly I seduce the people who rent the barn, and when I’m done with them, I drop their bodies in the loch. Slàinte!” She tapped her bottle against his, unwilling to admit how barren her love life was. “To a great day in the mountains. You’re not a bad climber, Luke Whittaker.”
“Thank you. You’re not bad yourself for a wee wisp of a thing.”
She paused with the beer bottle halfway to her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to give me problems?”
“Maybe.”
“Thanks for the warning.” She drank, and the beer was cool and delicious. All in all, she was in a good mood. Climbing did that for her. She’d inherited that love from her parents.
The focus required was almost like meditation. Out there in the mountains there was no anxiety or stress beyond the danger of the ice. There was only the thwack of her axe, the smack of the spike at the front of her boots, the flexing of muscle. Just her and the challenge. The rock. The mountain.
And, today, the man sitting in front of her.
In the center of the table a candle flickered in the jar, sending a glow of soft light across Luke’s features.
He reached for his beer. “The ice climbing here is incredible. More challenging than I expected.”
“I’m glad you didn’t fall and die.”