‘Because they see the boy and not the man? I’m guessing, but I suppose they just don’t trust him.’ Evanna hesitated. ‘Apparently Finn Sullivan refused to rent him a yacht a few evenings ago.’

Flora stared at her. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes, but it’s not all black. I saw Conner kicking a football around with the kids on the beach yesterday. They think he’s so cool. And several women have made appointments to see him, but I don’t think he was too thrilled about that.’

‘He certainly wasn’t.’ Flora brushed sand from Kirsty’s face. ‘He strode up to Janet and said, “I’m not a bloody gynaecologist” or something equally unsympathetic. And Janet pointed out that as we didn’t have a female doctor, he was expected to see female problems.’

‘And what was Conner’s response to that?’

‘I don’t know because he lowered his voice but Janet went scarlet.’

Evanna laughed. ‘I don’t suppose there was much call for gynecology in the army. According to Logan, he was dealing with a lot of trauma. Anyway, it’s time we helped him settle in, which is why I’ve invited him to join us for lunch later.’

Flora’s heart bumped hard against her chest. ‘He’s coming to lunch? I thought it was just your family. Logan, Meg and a few others.’

‘Conner is family. I thought it might be a good idea to remind people of that.’

‘Oh.’ Flora concentrated on Kirsty. ‘Well, that’s great. Really nice of you, Evanna. So we should go back to the house. Start getting ready.’ She rose to her feet and picked Kirsty up. ‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get the sand off your feet and take you home. Who knows? Your daddy might even be there.’

* * *

Conner’s feet echoed on the cracked wooden floorboards and he glanced around him, feeling the memories swirl. The house smelled of damp, but that wasn’t surprising because it had been years since the light and air had been allowed to pour unrestricted through its doors and windows.

He’d always hated this house and nothing had changed. It was as if the walls had absorbed some of the anger and hatred that had been played out in these rooms.

He tried to feel something positive, but there was nothing that wasn’t dark and murky, and he gave a soft curse and strode out of the front door and back into the sunshine, drawing the clear air deep into his lungs.

Just walking into the house had made him feel contaminated.

He shouldn’t have come.

He should have just paid someone to sell the damn place.

Beneath him the sea crashed onto the rocks and he sucked in a breath, drinking in the wildness of it—the savage beauty. Everything about this part of Glenmore was angry. The coast, the sea, the wind, the house…

Him?