Hired By My Rich Highland Husband

Chapter 2

Niall trudged along the churned-up dirt path through the forest on his inspection rounds, his boots squelching in patches of moss and mud. Winter had stripped the trees of their foliage, leaving behind brittle branches outlined against the hazy sky, like a charcoal sketch.

A heaviness crept into the air. He knew the Highland weather and these woods like the back of his hand. This was his land, after all. It had been his father’s and his grandfather’s before that. But Niall didn’t feel a sense of connection. Not anymore. Only obligation, to an extent.

Besides his own forestry, he had been an estate manager on the Hamilton land for thirteen years now. Close to a third of his life. It was a job that needed to be done, and he happened to be the one doing it. There was nothing more to it.

‘Barclay? Barclay!’ Niall called out for his dog. He paused and listened. Nothing but the long, rolling sigh of the breeze as it rustled through the branches. Niall turned around to survey the territory, to reassure himself that everything here was fine, that nothing was out of place. There were only familiar sights, like the old, gnarled ash tree with its branches twisted into shapes resembling faces. He called again, and this time he heard a bark in the distance.

That silly bugger can’t help himself , he thought affectionately.

Thirty seconds later, the black and white border collie came shooting out of the thicket towards him. Niall smiled and scratched Barclay behind his ears. ‘You sure love to run off on your own, don’t you, boy?’ At this time of year, there was nothing to be wary of on this part of the estate, and he allowed his faithful companion these independent excursions.

At least Barclay always returned to him, no matter how far he had run off. It was some comfort that there was one thing he could always rely on – the unconditional love of his dog. ‘Let’s get going, eh?’ And the two of them plodded along the same trail they always followed, Barclay alongside his owner and friend. It was in fleeting moments like these when Niall was almost at peace.

Almost.

As they walked, Niall noticed the ambassadors of winter, like a stray snowflake settling on his shoulder, the chill in the air, the flurries of fallen leaves being tousled by the breeze. Out here, in the middle of the forest behind Hazelbrae House, there was always an air of peace, a serene atmosphere that he had come to cherish.

Hazelbrae.

It had been over half a year since old Lady Hamilton had died in the care home where she had spent the last months of her life. A heart attack, they said. Niall still didn’t know what was going to happen to that place. That unsettled him. He didn’t like loose ends.

But, more importantly, it had brought his plans to an indefinite halt.

He had mulled over it for much longer than anybody in Kilcranach would ever have suspected, but when the developer had approached him with an offer to buy his land about a year and a half ago, Niall had been ripe and ready to make a deal. He wanted to move on. There was no spark of excitement or new beginning about it. This wasn’t about opening a new chapter.

No. It was about finally closing an old one.

Because, more often than not, Niall felt trapped – like a solitary wanderer in the frame of a gloomy landscape painting. Forever doomed to roam the moors.

Or forest, in his case.

With the money from selling his acreage, he would likely never have to work again. At least if he lived sensibly. He could buy a boat and live on it. Go sailing. It used to be his favourite hobby when he was a student, his soul unbent, his heart unbroken, his light undimmed.

Before…everything.

He hadn’t done it in ages. But he rather wanted to be at the mercy of the elements than at the mercy of the memories that surrounded him here at every turn.

Niall stopped and zipped up his lined wax jacket. He emitted a cloud of white breath and resumed the walk while his thoughts wandered in their own direction. He couldn’t say that he had been pleased with the plans the developer had for the area – a huge luxury hunting, shooting, and fishing billionaire playground with a spa for clients with helicopters and such – but it could bring a few jobs to Kilcranach. To people who needed it. Frankly, he cared little about the details. Times were changing. That was a fact. Better to change with them and make the most of it. He had been looking forward to it.

But just when he had started to feel something akin to hope, Niall had learned that Hazelbrae, sitting in the middle of it all, was a crucial part of the deal. They wanted the entire bloody thing. Not just his land. No, the crumbling mansion on the hill was the cherry on top of their billionaire-property cake.

Niall had tried to convince them otherwise. In vain. He had also made several attempts to persuade old Lady Hamilton to sell. To no avail.

A part of him knew she would never be willing to cut ties to her home of over seventy years, the place where she had been born.

Still, he had to try.

Not that he didn’t understand her. Hazelbrae was her home, the place where her family’s memories lived. Their presence was tangible in every nook of the house, starting with the faded pictures and paintings that spoke volumes about family roots that ran generations deep within this forgotten corner of the world.

No matter how eloquently Niall argued when they discussed estate matters, neither facts nor feelings made any difference. Lady Hamilton’s friendly but firm response was always the same.

‘My dear, dear boy,’ she would say in her commanding voice, only a little frail. ‘Don’t you know that all of Hazelbrae is part of me? And I wouldn’t sell my own arm now, would I? And what would your father think of that?’ she had asked, patting his hand and shaking her head.

How am I supposed to know? It’s not like you can phone people in the afterlife.

The last time they had spoken about it was a month before she suffered a second stroke and had to move away into care. A good six months before her death.

She had finally left this place for good. He was still stuck here.

Niall had even tried to sell his land discreetly to other candidates. Unsuccessfully. Unless it was an absurdly large acreage with a romantic castle, a potential nature reserve, or one of those tiny symbolic bits of land with a fantasy title, no one seemed prepared to buy land in the Scottish Highlands.

The canopy of wiry branches parted to reveal the decaying grandeur of Hazelbrae in the distance, a splendid house in a state of forgotten glory. Grass, moss, and birch saplings sprouting from the black rain gutters. All giving silent testament to its neglect.

Only a few harsh winters away from falling into utter disrepair , Niall reckoned.

Astonishingly, the roof still held up, withstanding the years, the wind, and the intense rain here in the West. He hadn’t set foot inside of Hazelbrae since… not in a long time. There was a quick sting of pain and loss. A feeling as familiar to him as these ancient woodlands. Relentless murmurs of his unforgivable mistake. Niall shook his head in an attempt to shake off his memories.

He didn’t know how Lady Hamilton had spent her last time there or what the inside of Hazelbrae might look like. All he knew was this half-ruined grand house stood between him and his ticket out of Kilcranach. Between him and his hope of lifting the crushing weight that had been suffocating him for six years. Whether he liked it or not, Hazelbrae was the key to his freedom and peace.

Barclay dashed towards a babbling brook beneath a small slope. Following the path to the left would lead them past the gates of the grand old house.

Och, why the heck not? Let’s see how deep those cracks really are .

He whistled. Barclay obeyed and came back as fast as an arrow. Niall and his dog walked side by side through the woods.

Suddenly, he heard a voice from somewhere in the nearer distance.

‘You treacherous damn shitty shit tree!’

Barclay pricked up his ears. Niall frowned.

What the …

‘I hate you! I hate you from the bottom of my heart! Stupid fucking tree!’

Yes, that sounded like a woman. An angry woman. The only problem was that her voice seemed to come from…above?

Barclay jolted towards a mature oak tree and barked.

‘Well, hello there! Awww, look at you. Such a good boy,’ the voice said to Barclay, all anger vanished. Niall took a few steps closer to the tree. He squinted in disbelief as he peered up at the top.

A woman in a dark blue pea coat was clinging to one of the oak’s branches. Her jeans were splattered with mud, and her complexion was bright red. She stared at him with a mix of surprise and suspicion. Niall blinked in bewilderment. He had no inkling who this woman was or what she was doing here.

In a tree, no less.

One of his trees, by the way.

‘Hi,’ she called out. ‘Hello! Oh, thank God. Do you think you could help me down? I can’t seem to do it on my own. Not that I would normally admit that to anyone.’ She laughed nervously.

The warm sound of her voice tingled in his ears. Niall furrowed his eyebrows in puzzlement. Why would a normal grown-up person climb a tree? He scoured his brain for explanations, but there were none that made any sense to him.

‘What are you doing up there, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘Major Tom to ground control: might I suggest I tell the tale once I’ve returned to Planet Earth?’

‘I’m afraid I sold any spaceships or flying tin cans to the charity shop ages ago anyway,’ Niall replied.

‘Ah, so you’re a funny one. But I’m about ten seconds away from a proper panic attack, so if you don’t mind.’

‘ You started with Major Tom.’ Niall noticed he was smiling. Barclay wagged his tail in excitement. That there on the tree was not the usual squirrel.

‘Get me down. Now!’ she insisted. ‘I mean…please?’

‘All right, all right. Let’s see.’ Niall examined the situation. It seemed that the crucial branch about halfway down had broken, preventing her from descending the same way she must have got up. He would have been irked by the sight of damage done to the trees under his care and supervision. But he knew the inhabitants of his forest well. This particular tree was a bit of a troublemaker that had been worrying him for a while. ‘Can you turn around?’ he asked.

‘Are you joking?’ She sounded slightly angry again.

‘You know, I could continue my walk and pretend this never happened.’ He was oddly enjoying this bizarre encounter.

‘You would not.’

‘Try me.’

‘Okay, I guess I could make a quarter turn.’

‘Brave girl,’ Niall said. ‘If you turn and slowly try to sit down on the branch that you’re standing on right now, you could jump.’

‘And break my ankle? Not a fat chance,’ she said resolutely.

‘I could catch you, you know.’

‘You? But you’re a stranger! How do I know you won’t take a step to the side and let me land face-first in the mud?’

‘Guess you won’t know for sure until you try.’

‘Honestly.’ She looked dispirited. ‘This is not a good way to encourage someone with trust issues.’

He folded his arms. ‘Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith.’

‘Really? Okay, as soon as I’m on firm ground again, we’ll go into town and get matching “Live, Laugh, Love” tattoos.’

And Niall laughed. A sound so rare that Barclay barked twice in confusion.

The woman in the tree shifted her feet awkwardly, still clinging to the higher branch. Gradually, and with wobbly knees, she lowered herself into a sitting position, while holding onto the bark of the thick tree trunk.

‘Okay, I’m sitting.’ She looked relieved.

‘I can see that.’

‘And now I jump?’

Niall positioned himself underneath her. It was less than six feet, not too terrible. He spread his arms out. ‘And now you jump.’

She landed on him like a hundred sacks of flour. The momentum pushed Niall backwards, staggering. She wasn’t a fairy, this was a woman of substance. He lost his balance, and with a thud, they both landed on the mossy, leafy forest ground.

Barclay ran circles around them, while Niall lay flat on his back. Judging by the pain, his coccyx must have hit a thick pinecone or something.

‘Ouch.’

‘Sorry,’ she replied, sitting astride him.

Niall stared into a pair of grey eyes with a silver glint under long, dark lashes. Tiny beads of sweat had formed a tiara at her hairline. There was a dab of dirt on the tip of her nose.

She bit her lower lip. ‘I’m Marla, by the way. Thank you for being my mattress, Major Tom.’

Barclay licked her cheek and she let out a low, contented giggle.

Deep inside, Niall had always suspected that there must be some magical creatures living in these woods.

He just never thought they would be so…gorgeous.

Escape to Scotland and get today – what are you waiting for?