“She’s the Boy Who Cried Wolf.”
“Exactly.” I studied my dad’s contemplative expression. “So what should I do?”
“What you’re doing. Your sister isn’t a wee girl anymore. It’s not her big sister’s job to teach her where to draw the line. She’s a grown-up. She knows where the line is, Robyn, and crossing it or not crossing it isn’t your responsibility. You can’t control her, and you need to let go of the idea that her consequences are yours.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here still. But the guilt …”
“Is just a part of who you are. You love her, you worry about her. That’s natural. But you are not failing her, Robyn. All you can do is be there for her when she comes to you.”
Tears pricked my eyes at his gentle advice, and I nudged him with my shoulder. “Thank you.”
He nudged me back. “You’re welcome, wee birdie.”
We fell into a companionable silence for a few minutes and then he asked hesitantly, “Is there anything else on your mind?”
I sucked in a breath. Oh yeah, there was definitely something else on my mind. “Well … there’s Lachlan.”
Mac waited for me to say more.
I made a face. “Do you want to hear this stuff?”
“I want to hear what’s bothering you.” He shot me a wary look. “But leave out the details.”
Chuckling unhappily, I retorted, “What details? He was already Mr. No Future before all this happened, but at least we were having a good time together. I made it clear that I’m not some faceless woman in a long line of faceless women, and he seemed to agree. I thought we were friends. He told me things I wasn’t expecting.”
“Like?”
“About his family. His past. He trusted me with information I’m not sure he’s trusted other women with.”
“I can see him doing that with you.”
I raised an eyebrow.
Mac gave me a proud smile. “You’re an honorable, trustworthy person, Robyn. Anyone can see that.”
Honorable. People didn’t use words like that anymore. It was nice Mac saw that in me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I get it from you.”
He sighed. “I’m not so sure about the honorable part. But I appreciate it. So … your relationship with Lachlan has turned into something more?”
I couldn’t ascertain if that bothered Mac. He was excellent at remaining outwardly impartial. “It’s confusing. He’s trusted me, but I haven’t felt it was prudent to trust him in return. Seemed dangerous to my self-preservation.”
“You care about him?”
I eyed Mac. “I don’t know when or how, but yes. Caring about him just sort of happened.”
“You connected with him. Those kinds of connections come out of nowhere sometimes. You find them in unexpected places.” He sighed heavily, wearing an expression of mournful frustration. Arrochar came to mind, and I wondered if he was silently referring to her. Had he unexpectedly connected with Lachlan’s little sister? Was she the woman he loved and didn’t pursue out of fear?
Part of me wanted to ask, yet I knew without really knowing that it was a topic very much off-limits. And I still wasn’t certain how I felt about whatever was (or wasn’t) going on between them.
“You shouldn’t run from it if you’ve found something genuine with him. If anyone can pull Adair’s head out of his arse, it’s you.” Mac continued, “And I hope any reservations have nothing to do with me. I will never stand in your way.”
“I know. It’s not that … The thing is … if I start giving more of myself to him, then it is going to hurt when he ends it.”
“I think it’s already going to hurt. Which means there’s nothing left to lose in being honest, being yourself. That way, it might not have to end.”
“You know him.”
“I do.” He nodded. “And it’s true he is adamantly against settling down.”
“See—”
“But …” Mac sighed. “Och, I don’t want to say anything out of turn or get your hopes up.”
My pulse leapt. “About?”
“I just … there’s something between you that I’ve never seen between him and another woman.”
I considered the possibility that Mac’s observation had weight and offered, “Yet he’s been distant since the murder.”
“That’s guilt. I know Lachlan. He blames himself.”
I nodded, imagining that was true. But that didn’t account for how he’d pushed me away but kept Lucy close.
“Robyn …” Mac touched my arm. “One of the most magical things about you is your bravery. You follow your gut, and you face your fears because, like you said, you realize the fear of fear itself is much worse than the actual fear. And believe me, regret, too, is so much worse than fear.”
It was the abrupt reminder I needed.
Dad was right.
I had to stop holding myself back from Lachlan and just go for it. Whatever happened, at least I’d know I’d given my entire self to whatever was between us. Yet, there was still that little niggle in my gut. And the last few days, it had only gotten worse.
“I’m not a jealous type,” I prefaced, “but I have to admit, it’s bothering me how much time Lachlan’s spending with Lucy. I know”—I held up my hands to stall his next words—“she’s been through the ringer. But we’re on day seven since the murder, and Lachlan is still spending every second with her and forgetting about everyone else who might need him.”
Like me.
“Is it because it’s Lucy, or would you feel the same if it were anyone?”
“Both. I’d be agitated by his distance during this time if it were anyone, but it’s Lucy and …”
“They have a past.”
“Exactly.” My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I don’t know if this is the kind of thing you
