“Yes.”
Because she was smiling so sweetly, Dylan was unprepared for what she said.
“Your brother is a mean, pompous, egotistical jerk.”
Kate was shocked. Her sister always took politeness to the limit, no matter what the circumstances were. She was kind and considerate of others’ feelings, so to hear her say anything critical about Dylan’s brother was shocking.
“Isabel, you shouldn’t criticize—”
Isabel shot a warning look at her sister. “Don’t defend him, Kate. You weren’t in the car. You didn’t hear the gross profanities he was shouting at me.”
“Isabel.” Michael said her name in a smooth, even voice. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I’m sorry about that.”
She was so surprised by his apology she didn’t know what to say. She was also suspicious.
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.” She still didn’t believe him but decided not to make an issue out of it.
“I would like to mention a couple of things,” Michael said. His voice was mild now, almost pleasant.
“I’m listening.”
He took another drink of water. “The speed limit here isn’t a suggestion. If the sign posted is forty-five miles per hour, you shouldn’t double it.”
“I don’t think I—”
He put his hand up to stop her. “Another thing I’d like to mention. We drive on the right side of the road here.”
Isabel’s face was turning pink, and Michael’s voice was getting grittier.
“Anything else?”
“Yes,” he answered. “The yellow light isn’t a dare. You’re not supposed to honk the horn and slam on the gas to make it across before the light turns red.”
“Are you finished?”
“Just about.”
“Okay. What else would you like to tell me?” It was killing her not to shout at him. He was acting like an obnoxious know-it-all.
“On the bridge did you happen to notice the ‘no passing’ sign? And before you answer, let me explain that, like the speed limit sign, the do-not-pass sign isn’t a suggestion. They really don’t want you to pass when driving on the bridge, which is why they posted the do-not-pass signs.” He leaned down close to her, and in a hard, clipped voice said, “Do . . . not . . . pass means do . . . not . . . pass.”
Dylan had turned toward the wall and was rubbing the back of his neck so Isabel wouldn’t see him smile.
Kate stared at her sister and looked horrified. “Grace Isabel MacKenna, did you try to pass a car on the bridge? Oh my God, what were you thinking? Didn’t you see the signs? Passing on that narrow bridge . . . Did you get distracted?”
Kate used Isabel’s full name only when she was furious with her, and Isabel hated when that happened. She was feeling horrible now. She could have caused a disaster. The truth was, she hadn’t noticed the signs, but she wasn’t going to admit it.
“You could have killed someone,” Michael said, straining not to lose his temper.
She scowled at him. “I’ve already done that,” she countered.
“Let me guess. You were writing another song in your head. Right?” Michael asked, caustically.
She was suddenly just as angry. “As a matter of fact, I was. The song was all about you, Michael.
I even came up with a title.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
She poked him in the chest. “Dumbass.”
EIGHT
DESPITE THE FACT THAT SHE’D TRIED TO KILL THEM NUMEROUS TIMES ON THE WAY TO
Nathan’s Bay—it wasn’t on purpose, but it counted all the same—and despite the fact that she was a giant pain in the ass, Michael couldn’t seem to stay away from Isabel. He kept checking on her to make certain she was okay, which really was ridiculous because she was surrounded by people who loved and cared about her.
The house was overflowing with Buchanans. With all the commotion, Isabel didn’t think anyone, not even Michael, saw her slip out the back door to go for a long walk around the island. It was a beautiful afternoon, and she wanted a little time to herself to clear her mind and think. She had just started down the path to the shore when Kate caught up with her.
“Isabel, wait up. I need to talk to you.”
With a sigh Isabel turned to her sister. Time alone was becoming a precious commodity. “I was just going for a walk,” she said.
Kate didn’t ease into her news. “We can’t go to Scotland Monday. We’re going to have to put off the trip for a while . . . maybe a month or two.”