Chapter Twenty-Two
Kirk
"Oh wow," Gretchen breathes as she swivels her head back and forth, absorbing the panorama of this secluded paradise.
She carefully steps onto the mossy bank of the stream.
The water dances over smooth stones, catching the sunlight and fracturing it into a thousand tiny rainbows.
"It's like a fairy tale. I can't believe a place like this exists. How did you find this little paradise?"
"Stumbled onto it when I was sixteen." I thread her fingers with mine as we wend our way down to the stream. "I had a row with my da about my future. He wanted me to go to university. I preferred to experience adventures, starting with wee ones and working my way up to wild stunts."
No one else is around, so it's only me and Gretchen and the rippling water with the vast Highland sky above.
I've brought her to this private corner of Scotland because it feels untouched by time, a secret garden hidden between ancient hills.
As I guide her closer to the river, the grass is springy beneath our feet and still damp with morning dew.
"I can see why you kept this little paradise a secret." She squeezes my hand. "If this place showed up on Instagram, it'd be trampled within a week."
"Aye, it would for certain." I lead her to a flat rock beside the stream, because it's the perfect size for two people to sit side by side, and wave for her to join me. "This has become my thinking spot. Whenever life gets too complicated or I need to sort things in my head, I come here."
Gretchen pulls her knees up to her chest, seeming to watch how the sunlight sifts through the trees, painting patterns on her face.
The quiet here feels different from any silence she's experienced before, I'd wager.
Rather than being empty, air is full of subtle sounds---water over stones, birds calling to each other, the soothing rustle of leaves.
"Did you and your dad work it out?" Gretchen asks. "Your university dream, I mean."
I lean back on my hands, tilting my face toward the sky.
"In the end, we came to an agreement. He realized I was serious about stunt work, and I decided to compromise just a little.
I went to university for a year and a half before dropping out to pursue what I truly loved.
Da wasn't happy about the situation, but he accepted it was my life to live.
Now he brags about me to his mates at the pub. "
"My parents were the opposite. They wanted me to follow my dreams, but I somehow ended up in the safe lane instead.
" The lass picks a tiny flower, delicately sniffing its scent.
Then she dips her fingers into the cool stream to watch the ripples that spread outward.
"Sometimes I wonder if I've been hiding in my comfort zone for too long. "
I cannae resist admiring her bonnie face, noticing the way the light dappling through the trees turns her eyes a different color---amber one moment, gold the next. "It's never too late to change course, gràidh."
"You've used various non-English phrases before, but I have no idea what they mean." She winces. "Or how to pronounce them. Are they Gaelic?"
"Aye, you're very clever. Gràidh means 'love' or 'dear one.' Mo leannan means 'my sweetheart.'"
"I like that. It sounds...special, like you created those words just for me.
"You are special, mo leannan. Just like this place---and you."
She bows her head, causing her hair to fall around her face in a cascade, and peeks up at me through the locks. "You make me feel like I'm the only woman in the world."
"To me, you are." I excavate a small, smooth stone from my pocket, its surface painted with a delicate blue spiral pattern. "I have something for you. It's nothing fancy, but it is a Highland tradition. When you find a stone that speaks to you, give it to someone important."
She accepts the stone, turning it over in her palm. "Is this from the river?"
"Aye. The stone became polished from years in the stream."
She admires the stone a wee bit longer as a sweet smile plays on her lips. Then she traces her thumb over the spiral. The blue paint gleams in the sunlight, as if it was applied with careful brushstrokes instead of a quirk of nature. "Did you paint this?"
"Aye, it's my doing." I feel oddly uncomfortable discussing the topic, but I tell her the truth. "I painted it last night, after you fell asleep. It's an ancient symbol that means 'journey' in the old Celtic language. Or so my gran always told me."
She holds the gift as if it feels weighty in her hand. "This little painted pebble somehow means more than any expensive gift I've ever received. It's beautiful, Kirk. Thank you."
"I wanted you to have something that would remind you of this place and to remember us."
She lays her hand over mine. "You're talking as if we're saying goodbye. But I'm not going anywhere, not yet at least."
I stretch my legs out, letting my boots dangle over the edge of the rocks, near enough that the water occasionally splashes onto them.
"Thank you for showing me this place," Gretchen says as she leans her head against my shoulder. The warmth of her body seeps through my shirt, comforting and solid---arousing too. "It means a lot that you'd share something so personal with me, Kirk."
I wrap an arm around the lass, tugging her closer. For a while, we sit here in companionable silence, watching the stream flow past and listening to the birdsongs.
The lass takes a deep breath, releasing it little by little.
"Something about this place feels like it has healing powers.
The gentle burble of water, the occasional flutter of birds' wings, the way sunlight filters through the canopy above.
It feels like we've stepped outside of time. Pretty dumb, huh?"
"Nothing you say is stupid. But I've never brought anyone else to my wee sanctuary."
She lifts her head to gaze up at me. "Really? Not even to impress a girl?"
"No. Not until I met you."
We lie on the grass for a while, nestled together with our bodies touching and our fingers entwined. The gentle breeze caresses our skin as birds chirp in the trees above. I watch as Gretchen's eyes flutter shut, her face relaxed in a manner I haven't seen before.
"Oh how I wish we could stay here forever," she sighs, her eyes still closed. "Just forget about Dougal and stunts and everything else."
I trace lazy circles on her arm with my fingertips. "Aye, it has that effect. Time seems to slow down here."
She opens her eyes and props herself up on one elbow. "Why me, Kirk? Why show me this place when you've never brought anyone else here?"
The question surprises me, though I should have expected it. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze, the question hanging between us. Why her? The answer seems both blindingly obvious and impossibly complex.
"Because you're different," I finally explain. "Ye didnae run when things got complicated. You stood your ground with Dougal. Christ, you jumped on my slackline even though it terrified you." I lift a hand to touch her cheek. "And because when I'm with you, I feel something I've never felt before."
Her eyes widen slightly, and I can see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. The sunlight catches her hair, turning the dark strands to burnished gold at the edges. "That sounds almost ominous."
"No, it's nothing horrible. What I feel...it's peace," I admit. "Even with all the chaos that's swirling around us, or maybe because of it, when I'm with you I feel at home. Like I've found the place I'm meant to be and the woman I'm meant to be with."
She studies me, her lips curling into a sweet, loving smile, and for a heart-stopping moment I think I've said too much, pushed too far. But then she leans down and presses her mouth to mine in a delicate kiss.
"I feel it too," she confesses. "Like I've been wandering around lost until I stumbled into you."
I tangle my fingers in her hair, dragging her closer, deepening the kiss with every swipe of my tongue. The taste of her, sweet with just a hint of this morning's coffee, lingers on her lips. But it's time for us to leave this wee sanctuary, though I'm dead certain we will return another time.
As we're just reaching the Porsche, Gretchen's mobile pings, indicating a text. As she reads it, her eyes darting, her brows begin to tighten as if in confusion. Then she swivels her head toward me with her eyes wide.
I touch her shoulder. "What's wrong, mo leannan?"
"My parents..."
"Has something happened to them? I hope it's not an accident."
"It's nothing like that." She shakes her head, wincing. "My parents are here in Scotland. And they want to see me right away."
Mhac na galla. This news does not sound good.