Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(42)

“Aye,” Grant said through a tight-lipped smile. “That I am.” He pointed to the left, where the rocky strand of beach created a path around tall, knobby ridges of sandstone-layered earth. The path looked as though the river might be dipping in and out of the land, eroding its way through the hills. “This way.”

Still short on words. Mentally, Joanna bobbed her head as though brewing for a fight. That’s fine. I can handle it. I am the queen of bullshit chitchat. “Tyler would love it here. I bet he’d find all kinds of neat stuff that’s washed ashore.”

Grant nodded as he helped her navigate a particularly slick pile of stones. Releasing her hand as soon as they reached more solid footing, he remained silent, squinting up at the rising wall of rock and earth in front of them. Without a word, he strode forward, scaling up and across the rocks with the agility of a goat.

Hmm. Guess the chitchat is going to have to be a bit more personal. Joanna dove forward and grabbed his arm. Grant immediately stopped and turned to face her but kept his gaze fixed on where she’d latched a tight hold to the crook of his arm rather than looking her in the eye.

His troubled expression twisted her heart, then sank like a heavy nauseating meal to the pit of her stomach. Something was very wrong. I’ve got to lighten things up. Get him to talk to me. I can’t take this. She forced a grin and playfully tugged on his arm. “Hey! My legs are shorter than yours. This isn’t a race, is it?”

Still avoiding direct eye contact, Grant shook his head. “Nay, lass. No race. My apologies. Ye’ll find the caves I spoke of are just up ahead around this outcropping of scrub.” He gently removed his arm from her hold and turned to continue up the shoreline.

Well, shit! Enough of this. Joanna lurched forward and grabbed Grant’s hand, jerking him to a stop. “Enough. I’m not taking another step until you tell me what’s wrong.” A realization suddenly came to her and spewed out of her mouth before she could stop it. “You’re acting like this is the last time you’re ever going to see me. If you’re planning on dumping me, at least do it in civilization. Don’t take me out to some deserted cave and leave my ass to find my way back.” She let go of his hand, shoving it back at him as though his touch infuriated her. “Now out with it or I’m turning back right now.”

“I canna tell ye here,” Grant said. He looked at her with such sadness, she wanted to gather him up in her arms and promise him everything would be okay, but how could she when she didn’t know what was wrong?

Grant nodded toward the direction of the caves. “I have t’show ye. And attempt to explain.”

Suspicion and dread fought for supremacy in Joanna’s gut, digging in their claws and twisting as though scratching out their territory. This couldn’t be good. She’d always sensed some sort of weird mystery surrounding the MacDara family. No one in town ever really talked about it because the quirky Scottish family had done so much to help the community. Everyone loved the MacDaras and their canny business sense with the theme park. They had done more to ensure the survival of Brady, North Carolina, than any taxes or federal grants had ever hoped to accomplish. But there was something about the Scots that no one ever spoke of—something secret. Joanna had tried to dig deeper but had come up empty-handed.

What the hell could it be?

Joanna chewed the corner of her bottom lip and slid her thumbs up under the straps of her backpack. The whispers of the waves across the rocks began to grate on her nerves. She looked back where they’d just come from, at the Jeep waiting at the end of the trail. She could go back to the bed-and-breakfast and be done with this right now. She’d had enough drama in her life to last her until she died. She didn’t need any more. She turned and looked at Grant. Like hell I can. He owns me. Heart and soul. She stood immobilized by indecision. She needed to find out what lay ahead but was terrified to do so. “Grant…please. Talk to me.”

Grant stared down at the ground, hands knotted into fists. “I canna tell ye here,” he repeated, then turned to look out across the river as though the help he sought could be found somewhere atop the rippling water or the tree-lined banks beyond.

“All I can do…” He paused for a long, strained moment, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, staring at the horizon. He finally turned to her and looked her in the eye. The emotions she saw flickering in the intensity of his gaze made Joanna shudder and wish they could rewind the hours and return to yesterday. This is so bad that I’m gonna lose him. The dark thought knotted in her throat and nearly choked her.

“All I can do is ask ye to give me this chance. Please trust me, Joanna.” Taking her hand in his, he closed his eyes and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Please come with me and hear me out. I swear t’ye, I’d ne’er hurt ye or put ye in harm’s way.”

“I know you won’t hurt me.” Joanna squeezed his hand and edged closer. “But you sure as hell haven’t made me feel any better about…whatever this is.”

“Aye, well…if it’s any solace t’ye, I feel damn poor about it m’self.”

There was that. Grant was obviously suffering. He didn’t want to do whatever it was he’d decided to do. She could see it plain as day. Joanna took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. What was it Lucia always said? “In for a penny, in for a pound.” That was it. And now Joanna finally understood what it meant. This was definitely love she felt for Grant—bona fide I want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-waking-up-beside-this-man love. There was no escaping it. The deadly emotion owned her. If she heard him out and it was something awful, she’d suffer. If she denied him this chance and went back to town right now, she’d mourn his loss the rest of her life and wonder what might have been. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.