A Fresh Start on Crumcarey (Crumcarey Island #5)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

LUKE

L uke loved the sound of the swirling wind and the rain clattering against the windowpanes. Nowhere else did storms quite like Crumcarey, and the wild weather running rampant outside while he was warm and cosy in his little barn made him feel decidedly at home.

Considering the place had been nothing more than a slightly scruffy blank canvas when he’d arrived, Luke was quite chuffed with the way it had turned out. It was amazing what a bit of a clear-out followed by a lick of paint could achieve. The empty space had transformed with the few bits of furniture he’d borrowed from his uncle’s farmhouse. Of course, power and running water had definitely added to his creature comforts – which was exactly why they’d been at the top of his list of priorities.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite managed to finish the bathroom yet. Everything was in place – other than a bath. He had his eye on a gorgeous old roll-top affair, but right now, it was sitting in one of his uncle’s fields, acting as the cows’ water trough. Still... a bit of a scrub to get the green slime off and it would be as good as new!

For now, though, he had to resort to a strip wash… which was why he was currently stripped to the waist at the kitchen sink. It was warm out here with the wood burner blazing – so he didn’t see the point in heading through to the bathroom!

Luke dipped his flannel into the bowl of scalding water and scrubbed at the sticky ooze that had somehow managed to coat his forearms. The real mystery was how it had made it onto the skin of his chest too. Considering he’d been wearing his overalls while he’d been helping Conner with a few bits on the ferry, he had no idea how it had got there. Perhaps he’d somehow managed to smear it across himself when he’d pulled his tee shirt over his head? Either way, it was proving an absolute nightmare to remove.

Yet again, the thick, oily substance threatened to glue the flannel to him rather than washing off. Luke sighed and grabbed the soap… and the scrubbing brush he kept on the windowsill. Desperate times called for desperate measures. If he could just scrub the worst of the stuff off without removing a layer of skin with it…

It didn’t take long for his entire torso to get covered with frothy, sightly grimy suds.

‘There – that must have done the trick!’ he said, having endured several minutes of rather harsh brushing-action. Grabbing his flannel in his other hand, he sluiced some of the soap away.

‘Hallelujah!’ he grinned as the grime wiped away with it.

A hammering on the door of the barn made him turn in surprise. That didn’t sound like the wind…

‘Anyone in?’ came a high-pitched voice that definitely didn’t sound like his uncle. ‘Help?’

In his haste to grab his towel, Luke fumbled with the soap-slick scrubbing brush and dropped it into the sink – getting a face full of sudsy water in return.

‘Damn!’ he spluttered, scrunching his eyes closed against the dripping, stinging water. He felt around blindly for his towel, but he couldn’t find it.

‘Help? Anyone home?!’

‘Coming!’ he called, giving up on the towel and doing his best to fist the water from his eyes as he hurried in the direction of the door.

Grabbing the handle, he threw it open and squinted out at a bedraggled shape. He couldn’t really see much, what with the wind whipping at him and his soap-filled eyes. He brought his fists up again, doing his best to rub some sense into his eyeballs. Then he blinked… and the figure came into focus.

‘Maggie?’ he gasped.

‘I’m sorry to bother you—’ she started.

‘Come inside!’ he said, stepping out of the way and beckoning for her to step in out of the storm. The minute she slipped past him, he closed the door firmly behind her.

‘How can I help…’ he turned to her, and his jaw dropped.

She wasn’t just a little bit wet – she was soaked through. Her long hair hung over one shoulder just as it had earlier, but now a steady stream of water poured from it as if she’d just climbed out of a river rather than a car.

‘Wait… did you walk here?’ he gasped.

The beautiful, drowned rat in front of him nodded morosely as she continued to drip all over the floor. She looked done-in. A strange mixture of exhausted, completely resigned, and seriously close to tears.

‘Are you hurt?’ said Luke, as his confusion was nudged out of the way by his ever-present practical mode. If there was an accident on Crumcarey, time was of the essence – especially in a storm. It would be a nightmare to get the air ambulance out in weather like this.

‘Not hurt,’ muttered Maggie.

‘Okay, good,’ said Luke, silently instructing his rising panic to calm back down. ‘Is anyone else hurt?’ he added, just to be sure.

Maggie shook her head.

‘And there’s no fire?’ he said.

Maggie snorted out a laugh that sounded like it came from underwater. Or maybe it was a sob. It was hard to tell.

‘Definitely no fire,’ she said.

‘Okay. Good,’ said Luke.

‘If you say so,’ muttered Maggie.

Luke gave her a wry smile. ‘I didn’t mean that kind of fire.’

‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘Sorry.’

‘Just… stay there two secs,’ said Luke, dashing through to the bathroom and grabbing the largest clean towel he could find.

‘Thanks,’ said Maggie as he handed it to her. She instantly wrapped it around the sodden length of her hair, doing her best to squeeze as much water from it as she could. Then she dried her face and glanced back up at him.

Luke bit his lip. Maggie looked like she’d just waded across the bottom of the sea from the mainland, and her mascara had trickled onto her cheeks… and yet she was breath-taking. He was having a hard time tearing his stinging eyes away from her.

‘I’m sorry… I seem to have caught you at a bad moment?’ she said.

Luke snapped to attention, realising that she seemed to be having exactly the same problem. He wasn’t particularly big-headed, but he could swear her eyes had been glued to his chest two seconds ago.

‘Ah… not… not bad,’ he mumbled, beckoning for her to follow him into the kitchen.

Tee shirt. Where was his damn tee shirt?

He scuttled around, looking for the clean top he’d brought with him for after his wash and doing his best not to meet Maggie’s eyes as she stood there, still rubbing her hair with the towel. He’d quite like to grab that towel and do the job for her. She needed to get out of those wet clothes too…

Speaking of clothes!

He grabbed his soft black tee shirt that had slipped onto the seat of one of his pilfered kitchen chairs and yanked it over his head.

There, that was better!

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Sorry about that! Now… how can I help?’

‘It’s my roof,’ she said in a small voice.

‘Uh huh?’ said Luke. He had a bad feeling he knew what was coming next.

‘I think it’s blown away.’

The words were met by a howling whistle from outside as the wind gusted around the outside of the barn’s walls. It sounded like it was celebrating.

‘You don’t look surprised,’ said Maggie when he didn’t say anything.

‘Sorry,’ said Luke with a small shrug. ‘We drove past your place earlier, and I saw that you’ve obviously been having… erm… a few issues!’

A small smile appeared on Maggie’s face, and Luke pulled out a chair in response. He needed to sit down before his knees gave way.

‘Understatement of the century, there,’ said Maggie.

Luke shrugged. ‘So… the tarps have blown off?’

‘Erm… I think it’s a bit worse than that,’ said Maggie. ‘And you don’t look surprised… again.’

‘I guess I’m not,’ said Luke. ‘Once these old roofs with the huge heavy slates start to fail, it doesn’t take much for the rest to give way. And this storm… is… a lot! What I am surprised by, though, is that you walked here. Not sure that was the wisest choice if I’m honest.’

‘I didn’t get much choice in the matter,’ said Maggie, pulling out the chair across from him and sliding into it.

‘Car troubles?’ said Luke.

‘If that’s what you call half your roof landing on half your car, then yes,’ said Maggie.

‘Oh,’ said Luke. ‘Shit.’

‘Yep. It is a bit,’ said Maggie. ‘And as it’s currently raining inside my house almost as much as it is outside… I thought I’d better come for some help.’

‘Good call!’ said Luke, nodding, though he had no idea what he could do to help with the weather still raging outside like an angry teenager. ‘Erm… well… there’s no way we can do anything about your roof in the pitch dark and in this weather.’

‘No,’ said Maggie. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Okay. Well… as far as I can see, you’ve got two options,’ he said. ‘One – we can make a dash for the truck, and I can drive you over to The Tallyaff. The road’s going to be a bit of a mess… but we should make it over there in one piece…’

‘As long as no one else’s roof’s flying about,’ said Maggie.

‘Yeah… there is that,’ said Luke.

‘What’s option two?’ said Maggie.

‘You could stay the night here,’ he said, wondering why the back of his neck was suddenly prickling.

Luke suddenly wished he wasn’t sitting down. He felt like he needed to be on his feet – pacing – or at least doing something.

‘I mean, you’d be slumming it!’ he added quickly. ‘This definitely isn’t the Ritz! But I was about to start making some food, and there’s a bottle of wine hiding around here somewhere. I think I left it in the bath.’

‘The bath?’ she laughed.

‘It’s not technically a bath yet,’ he said. ‘As in… there’s no tub. I’ve just got a box sitting where a bath will be… and I think it’s in there.’

It was a ridiculously long explanation for a ridiculous topic, but somehow, Luke felt like he needed to keep talking just to delay her inevitable request to be driven over to the Tally. He wasn’t looking forward to that drive, and not just because the weather was so grim.

‘Okay,’ he said, forcing himself not to let out a sigh when she didn’t speak for several long seconds. ‘Okay…’ he started to get to his feet. He’d need to put something warmer on if he had to go out in the storm. And some wellies…

‘I’ll stay here with you.’

Maggie’s quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.

‘If you’re sure that’s okay?’

Okay?

‘Sure.’ Do not start grinning like an idiot. Do not air punch. ‘That’s okay with me.’