Chapter Nine
Brann
May
T he weathered field, marked by patches of matted grass and thick ridges of mud, served as the training ground for the Brawny Briars, the local tug-of-war team. Brann dusted his hands together and sighed. Come August, just three months away, this crew would be competing in the Glenbriar Highland Games. They were up against it, as they were every year, being a group of amateurs. However, amateur teams were much more the norm these days. The Brawny Briars would also make appearances at other local games, but the Glenbriar ones were the biggest in the area and attracted large crowds from all over Perthshire, the lower highlands and beyond.
‘Right, lads,’ Brann said over the relentless patter of rain. ‘Let’s get started. We’ve got some new faces so let’s go around and say a quick “hi” to everyone. I’m Brann Duthie, team captain.’
‘Finlay McBride, deputy,’ the man to Brann’s right said.
‘Aidan McBride, cousin of Finlay and newbie.’
‘Nice to have you here,’ Brann said.
‘Rory Chubb, just call me Chubbs. Everyone does…’
And so it went on until everyone had introduced themselves.
‘A lot of the training for tug-of-war is up to you. Go to the gym, pump some iron, work on that core strength. We’ll do a couple of warm-ups, then we’ll have a go. Tug-of-war isn’t about finesse; it’s about power and unity. You bring the muscle and together we’ll work on the unity. We have to pull as one, understand the shifts, the ebb and flow.’
Brann crouched low, the muck squelching beneath his boots. He grabbed the muddy rope on the ground, the fibres coarse against his palms. ‘Practice isn’t pretty.’ The word threw up an unexpected thought of Ophelia. She had a habit of creeping into his mind and playing games in his imagination. Nobody on earth was less suited to this muddy field than her and yet Brann’s psyche had wandered off after her. If he caught her, he’d want to lie her down in this mud and do the dirty with her. For fuck’s sake , he had a one-track mind. ‘So, um… It’s about muscle memory, about knowing when to lean back and dig in.’
He got to his feet, holding the rope. ‘Right, warm up time. Finlay will lead this.’ As a P.E. teacher, he was good at this kind of thing.
Before long, they were all deep in lunges and high knees.
‘That’s it,’ Finlay called, ‘Make sure you can feel the muscles working.’
When they were warmed up, Brann lifted the rope again. ‘Right, let’s try dividing up. This is trial and error, until we get the perfect order, so if we pick a side and place just now.’
The team mirrored Brann’s stance, hands gripping the rope like a lifeline. Mud oozed between his fingers as he planted his boots into the damp earth. ‘Ok, on my command. Are we ready?’
‘Yes,’ they shouted.
‘Pull!’
The practice erupted in a chaotic mix of grunts and the squelching of mud. Each team member strained against the rope, muscles flexing. They spent half an hour at it until they were all too cold and wet to take anymore.
When training was over, Brann really needed a shower, but the training area didn’t have one. Imaginings of Ophelia were back and the idea of having her in the shower with him made him even more hot and bothered.
He checked his phone as he strode up the road and found a message from Kristalee.
KRISTALEE: has Caitlin said anything to you about the theatre club? I thought she was really enjoying it, but I think something’s happened there as she’s saying she doesn’t want to go back.
Brann’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to wish his kids’ lives away – they’d already grown up so fast – but if Caitlin could finish high school and be done with, she’d be so much happier. He hated seeing her so upset, and it triggered ugly memories of his own. The urge to beat her bullies to a pulp burned strong. But she wasn’t great at talking about it, so he didn’t know where to start. Sure, he got that too. She didn’t want to rock the boat or make things worse.
As for what was wrong at the club, something small could have been blown out of all proportion, but unless she told them, how could they help?
brANN: She’s never told me anything about it. I wish we could get her to open up a bit more so we can help her out.
KRISTALEE: me too… I’ll ask her again and see what she says.
God forbid she harmed herself again if it all got too much. He sent her a quick message to check in, but heard nothing back that evening. Work at Glenvorneth was ticking along. The stables were almost completely fixed and he would shortly be ready to start the next job on Ophelia’s list. He hadn’t seen much of her recently. Her visits had been infrequent, though he often saw her car outside the worker’s cottage he’d cleared for her. She was probably busy decorating it.
Harrison knew nothing about his sister’s problems at the theatre club. He had a new girlfriend and was so wrapped up in his loved-up world with her he was barely present at all. Brann knew the feeling. Though he wasn’t loved up… Just lusted-up and obsessed. The fact Ophelia had stopped calling was probably a good thing for them both.
Perhaps she was now dating the posh guy.
Brann hammered the trim around the front of the stable, and gritted his teeth from atop the ladder. Ah well. He’d have to get used to it even if it meant imagining every nail he smacked in was going into posh man’s head. Poor guy. Brann didn’t really wish him any harm. Ophelia was fun for a bit of banter, but that was as far as it would go for Brann and her. His life was messy enough. Somehow, among all the chaos, he’d managed to raise two kids. No mean feat really. Neither he nor Kristalee had had a clue back then, but they’d got this far. Sometimes, he wished he could go back, not to change things, because he loved his kids, but if he could use hindsight to iron out certain bits, so they were smooth and pleasant, not untidy and difficult.
He hummed to himself before turning it into a song. He couldn’t read music and didn’t have a clue about famous composers or anything like that, but he enjoyed singing and could pluck out a tune on a guitar. Sometimes he sang at the Autumn Gold festival on open mic night, usually just little things he made up himself. Nothing too complicated, just soulful stuff. People were usually kind and said he had a nice voice, but he did it because he liked it.
‘Brann.’ A soft voice caught his attention, and he stopped singing and peered down from the ladder. On the ground below was Ophelia, arms folded, looking up at him. Had she invaded his mind and heard him thinking about not seeing her for a while?
‘Long time, no see,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
‘Come down here a minute, will you? I need to talk to you.’
He rammed the hammer into his tool belt and climbed down. ‘Yes, heiress in chief. How can I help you?’
‘You can’t, but I need to go over the timetable with you. There’s been a development.’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘Come with me and I’ll explain.’
‘Ok.’ Brann’s eyes followed her neat figure as she marched around the back of the stable where her car was parked. The tight white jodhpur-style jeans got him every time. Her gait was like a supermodel on the catwalk.
She opened her passenger door and took out an iPad. ‘I’m going back to Edinburgh at the end of the week,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Business. Lucinda, my friend and colleague, has been running the show since I came back here, but she has a holiday coming up and so do some of the others, now that we’re getting into summer. I can’t fully cover everything from here, so I’m going back. I just want to make sure you’re aware of the job timeline and what to do next.’
‘Very aware.’ But it wouldn’t be the same without her around here.
‘Good. You can discuss anything that comes up with Barbara and she’ll contact me if need be.’
‘Ok.’
She flicked through her iPad, though he wasn’t sure what she was looking at. ‘When do you think this will be finished?’
‘I’d give it another couple of weeks to get all the snagging complete. I’m confident I can have it done by then.’
‘Good.’ She typed something in, closed the case and chucked it onto the car seat. Standing in the gap between the door and the roof, she leaned on them, with one heel resting on the edge of the footwell. Her gaze skimmed over Brann.
He glanced around and gave a little shrug. ‘And is that all?’ Their eyes met, and he knew it wasn’t. When her focus dropped to his lips, he almost crashed forward and grabbed her. If she wanted it, he wouldn’t say no.
She looked away and shook her head. ‘You are the bane of my life.’
‘Why?’
‘You drive me crazy.’
‘Likewise, Princess. But aren’t you dating some posh guy now? Isn’t he satisfying your carnal needs?’
‘I’m not dating anyone, and he definitely isn’t satisfying anything.’
‘Would you like me to have a go?’
‘I dare you to try.’
‘Challenge accepted.’ He moved closer, wedging himself in between the open door, so she couldn’t get out. He snaked his arms about her, gliding his palms around her trim waist. So small and delicate. He ran his fingers over her tight bottom and planted his hand in the pocket of her jeans, pulling her close.
‘You are the pits.’ She slid her hand around his jaw, tugging his face down to meet hers. He opened his mouth to her, and their tongues met straight away, sending hot lightning bolts through his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tilted his head, kissing her firmly and deeply. Breathtaking and so risky. Anyone could see them here, but he didn’t care. She didn’t seem to either, returning his kisses fiercely – exactly what he liked. Strong, passionate women were his catnip. This woman may look like a princess, but she kissed like a warrior and he was here for it.
Ophelia broke off, but he carried on kissing her, figuring she needed air. He focused on her lower lip, moaning at the tightening sensation in his groin.
‘You know I hate you?’ she breathed, her hands pushing under his arms and slipping around his back.
‘I know,’ he said through the kiss.
She chased his lips again, and he let out another moan as her palms slid over his back. Her lightweight shirt and his t-shirt weren’t a strong enough barrier, and the sensation of her body rubbing against his was almost too hot to handle, but he didn’t let go.
‘You… hate me too… Don’t you?’ she muttered in little breaths.
He barely broke the kiss to reply. ‘With a passion.’
The kiss came to a crescendo. She tasted dreamy, like strawberry lip balm. So soft, yet powerful. Make or break time. Brann was almost willing to throw caution to the wind and take her up against the car, but she pulled away and he stepped back.
‘For christ’s sake,’ she muttered, straightening out her top. ‘I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.’
‘I did ask.’
‘You did. Which is another reason for me to dislike you. I can’t even claim you took advantage of me.’
He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I can’t imagine anyone taking advantage of you.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Now, let’s not make this any harder.’
‘Easy for you to say. Some parts of my anatomy are finding that a problem right now.’
‘Seriously?’ Her eyes shot over him, and a smirk played at the corner of her lips. ‘Looks like we’ve done enough damage for one day.’
‘So, was that a goodbye kiss?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I look forward to you coming back then.’
She glanced away and sighed. ‘I’m not sure when that’ll be, so until then, be a good boy, won’t you?’
He saluted her. ‘But of course, your fanciness.’ Standing back, he caught his breath as she shut the car door and went around to the other side. Was there any point trying to figure out what the hell had just happened?
Probably not.
Whatever it was, it had been insanely hot. Not to mention downright crazy. Not the first time he’d played with fire.
Ophelia zoomed off down the track, and Brann raked his fingers across his scalp.
Fuck’s sake, I’m supposed to be a responsible builder. I’m someone’s dad, an upstanding member of the community. And I’m behaving worse than a teenager.
He returned to the stables, humming his tune again. Something about that fine line between love and hate, just waiting to be crossed.
‘There you are,’ Harrison said. ‘I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?’
‘I was talking to Ophelia.’
Harrison raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh yeah? Talking? Does that mean you were snogging her round the back?’
‘No. What?’ The defensive voice gave away the lie. Hopefully that was just Harrison guessing. He better not have sneaked a peek.
‘It’s so freaking obvious the two of you fancy each other. I don’t even know why you’re trying to hide it. Why not just shag her?’
‘That’s enough. Don’t be rude.’
‘I’m not.’ Harrison pulled an innocent face.
‘She’s off limits, ok?’
‘For me? I don’t want her… Jesus, she’s way too scary for me.’
‘I meant for me, though it goes for both of us. She’s in charge here, so we behave.’ The little voice beat on his head, reminding him how unsuccessful he’d been at that so far.
It should have been a relief she was gone, and he wouldn’t have any more run-ins with her, but as the days went on, the old loneliness crept back. Somehow, the knowledge he might run into her each day had filled a gap in his soul. Even when he hadn’t spoken to her, he’d seen her car or caught sight of her nipping in and out of the main house or the cottages. Now there was nothing.
He carried on until the stables were finished and got ready to start on the next job: fence repairs to the paddocks.
‘I suppose we should tell Barbara we’ve finished here,’ he said to Harrison.
‘I’ll leave that to you.’
That didn’t surprise him. Harrison was young and inexperienced in dealing with people.
Brann downed tools and headed off to find her. Assuming she’d be in the estate office, he got to the door and knocked.
‘Come in!’
He pushed open the door to see the top of her head from behind a computer and a mountain of paper.
‘Ah, hello, Brann. Sorry I haven’t been up to see you recently. It’s been crazy here and I’m really struggling without Ophelia.’
‘No sign of her coming back?’
‘Not at the moment, sadly. But what a to-do. Just before she left, we had a land agent in to value the land. Well, her father went mad about it. I think that’s partly why she left so quickly. Raging so he was. I’ve never seen him like that. Said he’ll never sell land and didn’t know why she would even have considered that as an option.’
Did he think the better option was to sell his daughter? Crazy family.
‘Hmm. That’s not good.’ How could he empathise when he had no idea what it would be like to have this much land at his disposal? ‘I just came to say the stables are done and we’re ready to move on to the next job.’
‘Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s no money to pay you. No point in moving on to the next job when we can’t even pay you for this one.’
‘What? Wait a second, you can’t do that. You have to pay me for the work I’ve already done.’
‘I don’t know how. There is no money.’
‘You are joking me, aren’t you?’
‘Unfortunately not.’