Chapter nineteen
LUCAS
The island’s farm was the perfect place to help me get out of my own head.
Oscar had absolutely no interest in my personal life.
He extended a gruff good morning when I arrived then asked if I liked cheese when he insisted on feeding me lunch, but apart from that we focused on the animals under his care.
I applied antiseptic salve to cows’ udders, which were looking much better than the last time I visited.
One of the pigs had got something stuck in its teeth.
It was a two-man job to keep the sow still-ish while I extracted the chunk of wood from behind its molars.
One of Oscar’s Labradors had a limp, so I prescribed an anti-inflammatory and taught the farmer how to do a gentle elbow massage.
All the tasks forced me to focus on the present.
Mostly. There was the odd moment, when Oscar and I walked between animal pens or while we munched on sandwiches far better than the bread and squashy orange I’d shoved into my lunchbox, that allowed my mind to wander down the same well-trodden path to the memory of what happened this morning.
Hopefully Oscar attributed the blood that kept rushing to my cheeks to the chill air. Despite the sun shining high in the sky, a nippy breeze whipped around us as we roamed across his farm. It was the first day of September, and I guess autumn arrived hard and fast in Scotland.
I wished I could have acted differently this morning. It would have been wonderful if Kit had asked to kiss me and my reaction had been a resounding yes. Instead, horrified dread had almost drowned me.
I’d never enjoyed kissing before. I loved hugging Kit, loved holding his hand and leaning into his side, but I didn’t want to kiss him.
There had to be something more to a kiss to make it special, that tug of attraction I could never seem to summon even when I really wanted to.
I might have been weird around Kit recently, but it wasn’t a good thing.
It was distracting, the swoop in my stomach and the sweat that rose across my skin and the thumping beat of my heart.
I didn’t want to kiss Kit, only for it to be a disappointment like all the others.
His face after he asked and I didn’t immediately leap at him was horrible, but it was even worse once he realised I was struggling to say no. I was finding it so difficult to put together the words to let him down gently that I’d almost thought it would be easier to just kiss him.
But then I would have had to explain why I was so hopeless.
I didn’t think Kit would allow a terrible kiss to happen without comment.
It was wonderful that he felt strongly for me and I certainly felt the same – even if it was only in a platonic way that meant I wanted to be around him all the time – but that would inevitably dim if he placed his lips on mine and it was as cringey as every other kiss I’d endured.
I had to hope he wasn’t lying when he said everything would be okay.
Not kissing him this morning was far better than the alternative, but I hated that I’d hurt him.
Despite my desire to forget what had happened, several times I wondered if I should run down to the village to check on him.
That was the only option if I wanted to know how he was doing, since my phone signal immediately plummeted to zero each time I stepped away from Doughnut’s only village.
Even if I could text him, I wasn’t sure I would have.
I wanted to hold Kit in my arms and reassure him that if he wanted it, we would always be the closest of friends.
I wished I could give him more.
‘Had a couple of ramblers up here yesterday.’ Oscar snapped me from thoughts of Kit as we walked towards the front gate of the farm late in the afternoon. His scowl grew as his gaze landed on the gang of pygmy goats waiting outside. ‘Little fuckers.’
‘The ramblers?’ I prompted, before Oscar launched into a rant about the island’s pygmy goats and their attempts to infiltrate his farm.
Oscar stopped before the gate, putting most of his weight on his right leg. He glared at the gaggle of creatures peering through the wooden slats. ‘They were in a right flap. Said there was something wrong with the eagles over on the cliffs. Seemed to think there were three of them up there.’
I frowned. Technically, there were five White Tailed eagles nesting on the island’s northern cliffs if you counted the parents plus their three rapidly growing eaglets.
‘I’ll pop up there.’ I wouldn’t be able to do anything if another eagle had arrived on the island and was encroaching on the mated pair’s territory, but I wanted to see what was going on with my own eyes rather than worrying over a second hand account.
Plus, it would keep me away from the village and the mess I’d left down there for longer. As much as I wanted to rush to the bookshop and gather Kit into my arms, I also wanted to stay away until the pain I’d caused wasn’t so blisteringly fresh.
‘Now?’ Oscar asked as I walked across the cattle grid and climbed over the gate. I wasn’t graceful, but was sure he appreciated removing the chance for a pygmy goat to sneak onto the farm.
‘Yeah.’ I pulled my phone from my pocket and cringed at the photo of Kit and Kat snuggling that I’d made my background. ‘I’ve got time before it gets dark.’
Oscar looked up at the clear blue sky. ‘A storm’s coming.’
I swung my head around. In all directions, there wasn’t a cloud sight. The wind was nippy, but not worryingly so. I’d been warned about Scotland’s infamously changeable weather, but so far it wasn’t something I’d witnessed firsthand.
I tucked my phone away. ‘I’ll chance it. It won’t take me long to get up there, check on the birds, then go home.’
Oscar frowned, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of the goats skipping around my legs or the possibility of a storm that only he could foresee under a cloudless blue sky.
I waved and turned to walk along the high fence around the farm.
Even if Oscar was genuinely concerned I was about to get caught in a sudden storm, he had to be happy that the goats plotting to invade his farm followed me as I left.
The air was crisp as I walked out past the last fence. I veered towards the loch in the middle of the island, then followed a rarely used path that wound along the foothills of several mountains in the north of Doughnut. I passed a couple of goat huts and my hooved friends veered off towards them.
I stopped trying not to think about Kit once I’d caught myself wondering what he was doing right now for the fifth time. My brain was determined to think of him unless firmly directed otherwise, and nothing distracted me as I walked across the more rugged stretch of the island.
Kit would be doing what he did most days; tending to his bookshop. This morning had been excruciatingly awkward, but it wouldn’t have derailed him. He was a wonderful man. Someone else would see everything that made him beautiful and would jump at the chance to be romantically involved with him.
I bit my lip and stomped along the barely-there path.
The thought of Kit running off into the sunset with someone else filled my guts with molten lava.
As much as I wanted Kit to have a happily ever after, I hated that it couldn’t involve me.
He wouldn’t want his weirdo friend hanging around when he found someone who wanted him in all the ways he should be wanted.
Maybe I could convince Callum and Aster to build a new room on their cabin. Soundproofed, of course. There were some things I was destined to hear about but which I didn’t need to actually eavesdrop on.
I gasped as I stepped out from the shelter of two hulking mountains and the wind ripped past. It had either picked up while I’d wound my way to the top of the island or the weather was wilder up here.
The sky wasn’t perfectly blue anymore, grey clouds crowding in, but Oscar’s promised storm still looked a while off.
Careful not to be blown over the cliff by an errant gust of wind, I walked as close to the edge as felt safe, then crawled the final distance on my hands and knees. No goats joined me this time as I lowered onto my belly. I shivered as my front pressed flush with the cool ground.
I pulled my binoculars from my backpack and leant forward to peer down at the eagles’ nest. Both adults were tucked into the tight structure made of driftwood and seaweed.
I couldn’t see it right now, but brief glimpses had confirmed that the inside was padded with goat’s fur.
Feathers across the eagles’ backs rose in the wind, revealing the soft down underneath.
I scanned across the crashing sea and jagged cliffs. Nothing amiss. I didn’t know what the ramblers thought they’d seen, but I doubted it was another eagle causing issues for this little family.
A splodge of something cool and wet splatted onto the back of my neck.
Before I could curse the bird who’d spotted an unmoving target and decided to bless me with what felt like a good dollop of shit, another blob exploded on top of my head.
Pattering picked up as more droplets fell on and around me.
I lowered the binoculars. My mouth slackened at the sheets of rain pounding across the sea.
It wasn’t a storm yet, but the swirling grey clouds overhead were not messing around.
By the time I’d crawled back from the edge of the cliff and stood, I was soaked despite the waterproof coat I donned every morning.
Rain lashed down, turned almost horizontal in random gusts by the blasting wind.
I blinked wetness from my eyes and tucked my hood over my head despite the water already dripping down my shoulders.
I slotted my hands into my pockets and rushed over to the path.
Bright lightning spiked across a sky that shouldn’t have been so dark for hours yet. Three seconds later, a crack of thunder almost sent me sprawling into a patch of ferns.
‘Oh, shit.’