My casting did not resemble the fluid motion and smooth line I could feel with his help; my line fell into the water like an overcooked linguini noodle, wavy, circling back on itself.
Jason entered the river, making his way toward us. “You need to be helped by someone who can teach you how to cast.”
“No, I’ll get it,” I said.
“I’m sure you will, but you’ll get it wrong.”
“She’s doing fine. If you’re worried about your fishing experience, pick a spot away from us,” Ben said.
“I’m not so much offering as insisting.” Jason shot an annoyed look in Ben’s direction.
“Move to another spot, mate,” Ben said.
Jason strode over, stood within inches of Ben, and leaned in. “I’m not your mate, and if anyone is unwelcome here it’s you.” Jason turned to me. “Why is a MacIver out here today?”
My mind scrambled to figure out how to avoid an escalation. “He owns half of this, same as I do.”
“Doesn’t mean he needs to be around when I’m here to fish,” Jason bellowed.
“He’s helping me learn to cast. You can go off and reel in all the salmon.” I held Jason’s gaze.
He turned to Ben. “I don’t know how you managed it, but you’ve got her defending you. Pathetic. Getting a woman to be the man you can’t be.” Jason shook his head in disgust.
Ben’s jaw pulsed with tension. “The river is big enough for all of us. There’s no need for a problem here.”
Jason stepped back, and it looked like he was winding up for a fight.
I grabbed Ben’s arm. “Let’s pick a different spot. Let Jason have this one.”
Hoping to distract Ben, I chatted incessantly about how to cast as we slogged to the shore. Jason grumbled but stayed in the river. As I climbed up the hill to grab a bottle of water, Henry approached.
“Ellie, can I talk to you?”
Henry headed up the hill and stopped behind the Beast. I followed as it was clear he wanted to talk to me alone.
“I can show you how to cast, you know that, right?”
“Yes, of course, but—”
“Why would you put yourself in between those two? I’m right here, Ellie, and was hoping to help you catch your first salmon.”
Amidst the distractions of Ben and Jason, I’d inadvertently abandoned my fishing buddy. Henry had meant for us to hang out and fish all day. I felt chastened. Why
would
I take instructions from Ben or Jason when the top fly fisherman in the area was offering his help?
Sometimes I didn’t understand the choices I made. Worse, too often it didn’t occur to me I was making a choice.
I headed toward Ben. “Hey, I’m going to work with Henry after lunch.”
“No bother. I’ll pick a spot farther up, away from him,” Ben said, motioning toward Jason who was reeling in yet another salmon.
Jim pulled a compact grill out of the back of my Land Rover and helped Jason clean his impressive catch. I had to admit Jason’s grilled salmon was delicious. It amused me that Ben refused to taste it, claiming he only ate what he caught.
Once we’d cleaned up from lunch, Jim examined my fly and exchanged it for a different one. I secretly believed the salmon had decided to steer clear of me. Nonetheless, I followed Henry to his spot in the river, watched him tie a fly to the leader.
“I wasn’t attracting any fish in my spot earlier,” I said with a sheepish smile, not convinced it was my spot that was at fault.
He took the fly I handed to him, began to tie it on my rod, and then let me take over, gently instructing me on how to finish it off.
“Follow me and we’ll go farther upstream to that rock there. We can both fish and it will give you plenty of room to cast,” he said, tossing a glance in Jason and Ben’s direction.
They were rapt in conversation with Jim. As soon as Henry and I found a place in the river, I turned toward the bank to see Jason coming our way, Ben following close behind.
Choosing to ignore their arrival and focus on Henry’s instructions seemed wise. He showed me how to pull my line, hold the tension, and resist the temptation to flick with my wrist. Simple enough to understand, but it didn’t come naturally. I practiced several times with only my body movements before attempting to cast with the rod again, but kept making a mess of the line. On top of bungling my efforts, I couldn’t shake the distracting sensation of Ben’s body so close to mine.
“You’re getting better even though it may not feel like it,” Henry encouraged.
“Ell, you’ll never catch a thing if you think these yokels are going to be able to help you,” Jason said, grabbing the rod from my hands. “First off, your rod is junk. That’s one reason you’re having trouble. You need to invest in better equipment for paying guests. Take a look at my rod. Bought this for today. You can have it when I leave.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing my mouth to stay closed and quiet, and then snatched my rod back from Jason.
“She can manage on her own,” Ben said.
“Ell should learn how to enjoy the sport and that starts with being able to cast. Right now, the birds in that tree on the shore are in more danger than the fish.”
“Listen, both of you, she’s doing fine. Leave her be and stake out your own spot,” Henry said, his voice firm. “I’ll give her whatever help she needs.”
I was surprised at what for him was an outburst. He didn’t usually say much in a group of people and I felt obliged to back him. “I completely agree with Henry. Any help I need, he can give me.” I waved my hands toward the shore to shoo them away. “Whether I hook a bird or a fish, that’s my problem, not yours. Keep yourself away from me on the river and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about from a hook gone wild.”
Jason’s charm only lasted a microsecond with me. And that microsecond was over. The thought of my hook accidentally catching hold of some part of him was tempting. I needed his help to fund Glenbroch’s repair but putting up with him scraped my nerves.
Jason slapped Ben on the back. “Gonna catch any today? Since Ell doesn’t need my help, I should help you out. You have no business owning any part of a sporting estate with crap fishing skills like yours.”
Ben jerked away from Jason’s hand and didn’t respond. If Jason pushed him further, Ben wouldn’t likely let it go.
Peaceful fishing only lasted a few casting attempts before Jason’s voice cut through the gurgling rush of the river.
“You’re over-rotating your wrist. You cast like a teenage girl,” he taunted. “I can see the tough Highland image is nothing but a pathetic joke.
Even from a distance, I could see Ben’s eyes turn dark. Danger was brewing, but he quietly reeled in his line and set up to re-cast.
Jason refused to let up. “I thought you being a no-nonsense Scot, you could take a suggestion, because you could definitely improve your form. You need help, man, but if you’re too stubborn to take it . . .”
I looked for Jim, who had made himself busy sorting items in the tackle boxes, either oblivious to what Jason was doing or ignoring him. I wanted out of the river, convinced the escalating tension between Jason and Ben would electrocute any people and fish left in the water.
Henry kept his eyes on his line. “Ignore them, Ellie.”
But I was sure trouble was coming. Jason cast again close to Ben, his line drifting into Ben’s just as a salmon pulled Ben’s line taut. Clearly Jason saw the fish bite as well. As Ben played the fish, Jason let his line out, tangling it in Ben’s to prevent him from bringing in the fish. Ben snapped the line and lunged at Jason.
“Eejit! What were you thinking?”
“Honest mistake in calculating the current. I thought I had enough distance between me and you,” Jason said, a smug look on his face. “That salmon looked nice too.”
“Bollocks!” Ben yelled and turned away to shore.
Jason jerked back on his rod, which slapped Ben in the back of the head.
No accident.
Ben grabbed Jason’s fancy rod, and threw it in the river.
“Are you insane?” Jason shoved Ben, who nearly lost his balance. “Do you know how much that gear cost, you backwoods idiot?”
Jim didn’t move nor act perturbed when Ben grabbed Jason’s hand and bent it back at the wrist.
“Backwoods idiot? Well, then, if you know so much about idiots, you should know I won’t hesitate to break your wrist to teach you to keep your rod off the back of people’s heads.”
Jason’s fist caught Ben in the jaw, knocking him into the rushing water. Ben pulled Jason’s legs out from under him, and they thrashed in the river like two rutting stags—but in this case more likely to break their heads on the rocks than do damage to each other. What a stupid waste of a day! I flushed with embarrassment and frustration, hoping things would smooth out and the day could still be salvaged.
“Lads, you’re scaring the fish away,” Jim said, as if he had merely commented on the weather.
Ben’s head wounds from the Glenbroch accident had broken open and blood poured down his face.
“Jim, Ben’s bleeding!” I yelled, my voice shrill with concern.
Jim headed into the water and called for Henry to help him. Together they dragged Ben and Jason from the river.
“I was under the impression we were having a gentlemen’s day on the river, not a pub brawl,” Jim said.
Ben and Jason peeled off their waders, water pouring out. They both looked a mess. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach thinking I was tied to a financial bed with both of these guys.
Talk about S&M.
Jim sat them both down on the bank and stood between them. “Mr. Marks, you are a guest of the owner of this estate. I see you have something to work out between you and Mr. MacIver here, but you need to pick your place and time. This isn’t it. This is Ms. Jameson’s first day on the river, her first chance to catch a salmon on her family’s land.” He threw Jason’s keys at him. “Get yourself back to your inn. You’re done for today.”
Jason scrambled to his feet, lunged at Jim. “You don’t tell me when or what I do, old man.”
“I do here, son.”
Henry stepped forward. Ben pushed to his feet, flanking Jim.
“Ell,” Jason said, turning to me. “We need to talk. Let’s go.”
Jason was my guest and my new boss soon enough, and he had the money I needed to save Glenbroch. I followed him.
“Listen, Jason, I need to go with them. I can’t afford to upset people here. You understand what that’s like. I’m not going with you now, but I’ll catch up with you later,” I graced him with my sweetest smile, hoping to diffuse the situation.
“Ell—” Jason began a protest.
“I’ll call you later,” I promised. “We’ll meet up.”
Fuming, he slung himself into his vehicle and tore off, banging the Land Rover on the bumpy road hard enough to nearly turn it over.
Jim turned to Ben, shaking his head in disapproval. “Henry, Ellie, give me a minute.”
I re-entered the river with Henry, hoping there was still a fish within a mile who was interested in being caught. I strained over the rush of the water to hear Jim’s words to Ben.
“You were an embarrassment today, Ben MacIver. You’re not going to get what you want until you learn to master your pride and stand up for what’s worth fighting for. And that bloke?” Jim jerked his thumb toward Jason’s dust. “You’re off your head around him. He’s not your problem. You are.”
Henry and I soon packed it in; the icy river and all the fuss had conspired to wear down my resolve. Blood had dried in streams down the sides of Ben’s face. I couldn’t help but want to clean it up, take care of him, as he had done for me. It was hard to be mad at him, to stay away from him, even though I had every right to be frustrated.
The mood of our group grew darker by the moment, exacerbated by exhaustion. We piled into the Beast with Jim at the wheel. The only sounds during the trip back to Glenbroch were the jostling of the Land Rover as it navigated the lumpy dirt road.
Ben and I had ridden together from the cottage, and what had happened on the river made for an awkward ride home. Neither of us spoke until Ben broke the tense silence a mile down the road.
“Ellie, I’m sorry about the row with Jason. It was a stupid move. I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s obvious Jason being here upsets you. It is what it is. You need to deal with him being involved.”
He stared straight ahead, not meeting my eyes. “How can I prove to you that the last thing I want is for you to lose Glenbroch?”
“Get your father to tear up the agreement.”
He turned to look at me. “You know he won’t do that.”
“Then I guess there’s nothing you can do to convince me.”
He let out a long exhale. “I’ll talk to Jason, smooth things over.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I’m normally not like that. Things got out of hand. I’ll set this right.”
“Too bad you don’t have the same scruples to set things right with me. You’re worried about making it okay between you and Jason, but you won’t stand up to your father for what you say you believe in.”
Ben flinched, and I cringed inwardly at my barbs. I didn’t like to hit him where it could cause damage, but there were times I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, stop myself. Sometimes I wanted to mend him. And sometimes I wanted to hurt him. Rational or not.
Ben’s claim that he wanted me to retain Glenbroch seemed sincere, but what he said he wanted didn’t change a thing. John ran the show and Ben simply wouldn’t stand up to him. I couldn’t respect empty wishes and words. I’d had plenty of those in my life. I needed to focus my concern on what John wanted, not Ben. And John wanted Glenbroch. Nothing had changed.
I pulled the Beast up beside the cottage and shut off the engine. Ben reached out and held my arm before I could get out, his hand firm but gentle, his voice thick with feeling.
“I’ll find a way to make this right with you, Ellie.”
“Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.” I stepped out of the car without looking back. After going into the cottage, I waited in the dark until certain he’d had time to make it back to his parents’ house.
Tossing my mess of emotions into the corner of the sofa, I curled up under a blanket and watched the kindling catch hold of the flame from the starter block. If I didn’t see
enemy
tattooed on Ben’s forehead, what did I see? My thoughts drifted away from the book in my hand to the kindness in his smile, the way his eyes outed his emotions, what felt like the truth between us, and the feel of his body curved around mine in the river.