Chapter 8
EIGHT
FRASER
“Fixed the length of your stay on the website,” Cameron tells Summer without preamble. “And I put an old Wi-Fi router in the cabin.”
I’m surprised. That’s…unusually helpful of him. Cameron is a good man, but he has a list of roughly two people that he cares about, and he’s happy to be a bit of a twat to everyone else.
Summer’s eyes widen. “You did? That’s so kind!”
“Figured you won’t keep bothering us up at the farmhouse that way,” Cameron mutters. “Signal’s not great. Don’t want to hear you complaining if you can’t watch your shows, or whatever.”
“No,” Summer says. “Of course not.” She offers me a smile, reluctantly peeling Crumpet off her. “Thank you for the tour, Fraser. I should get some work done.”
“Some bloggin’?” I ask innocently.
She stands. “Yes! I have, er, so much to blog about! See you later? Oh—” Her fingers go up to my scarf around her neck. “I should give you this back.”
I shake my head. “Keep it until you go, lass. Don’t want you freezing up here.”
Besides. I think I like seeing my clothes on her. She gives me a grateful smile. I watch her leave, a warm feeling inside me.
Okay. Yes. I like her a lot.
Cameron opens the door to the pen and sits at my side stiffly. “How’s the babe.”
I shift so he can stretch his leg out. Now that Summer’s gone, the lamb—Crumpet—has gone limp again, huddled in a pile of straw. I pick her up and give her a clap. “She loved Summer, you know?” Cameron huffs. “She did! Seriously, ten seconds ago, she was bouncing about all over the place.”
“Right.” He reaches over, takes the lamb, and tries to tuck her against Viola’s side. The big ewe just turns her bum away. “Will you please acknowledge your bairn?” he demands. Viola doesn’t move, and Crumpet shivers in his hands.
“So,” I say, watching him closely, “what do you think of our new guest?”
He harrumphs. “Don’t like her.”
I gasp. “No! But you’re usually such a friendly guy.”
“She’s a liar,” he mutters. “And a flirt.”
“A flirt.”
“She keeps givin’ me this big fake smile. Practically batted her eyes at me in the garden.”
I snort, remembering Summer sparkling at me outside. “Aye, she does do that, doesn’t she? God, I bet that smile gets her whatever she wants.” It’s a bit heart melting. Even if I like her toothy grin better.
His face darkens. “It’s manipulative. I’ll be happy when she’s gone.” He checks Crumpet’s feet. “Only agreed to let her stay since the cabin’s empty.”
I nod. “Right, right. Guess you’ll be fine if I ask her to the pub sometime then?”
His head snaps up. “Leave her alone. She’s a guest.”
“Aye. And I’m being hospitable. City girl like her, she’ll be bored just sitting on the farm all week.”
His eyes narrow. “You just want to sleep with her.”
I sputter. “I do not. What do you take me for?”
I mean, I wouldn’t say no, but I want more than to just sleep with Summer. She’s a mystery I want to unravel.
“You do,” he says flatly. “And why do you keep calling her ‘lass’? You sound ridiculous.”
I shrug. “‘Cause she goes bright pink every time. I swear, half the tourists up here have Outlander kinks. Trust, I will be using that to my advantage. You should try it.”
“And why would I want to do that–”
“Everything alright in here?” A low voice interrupts us. I look up to see Alec entering the barn. “Is there an issue?”
Cameron and I exchange a look.
“No issue,” Cameron says. “Summer’s staying the week.”
Alec pauses. “Excuse me?”
“Has some trouble back home she wants to hide away from, apparently,” I tell him.
Alec’s frowning. “She can’t stay here a week. We never let guests stay that long.”
“Make an exception,” Cameron says flatly.
“She can’t,” Alec insists. “She’ll be a distraction.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Alec’s always been a wee bit uptight. But in the years since he took over the farm, he’s lost more and more of his personality. Recently, it’s like my friend has been replaced by an army general. Or a robot.
“I’m not distracted,” Cameron bites out. “I can do my job with a woman on the property. Can’t you?”
The two men stare at each other. Eventually, Alec’s shoulders slump. He’s never been able to deny Cameron much. “Fine,” he says. “If that’s what you want.” He checks his watch. “I’ve handled the shed repairs, so you can cross that off your list. Take off early tonight.”
Cameron’s hands clench into fists. “Why?” he grinds out. “I’m meant to do woodwork.”
“It seemed strenuous. I don’t want you pushing your limits—”
I wince.
Cameron grabs hold of the pen door and levers himself to his feet. “What,” he says, his voice rising, “is the point of me being here if you never let me work? You barely let me do shit. At this rate, I may as well just leave.”
His words echo around the barn like a threat. I go still.
“I’m trying to help,” Alec says softly.
“I don’t want your help,” Cameron snaps. “Let me do my job, or I’ll find someplace else to go.”
My stomach sinks.
Things have been bad between Cameron and Alec for a long time now. Years. The two of them used to be best friends.
And then there was the accident.
Alec swallows. “If…If you want to leave Lochview, of course I’ll help you find a new position,” he says eventually. His watch beeps. “I…should go.” He turns and leaves.
Cameron wipes a hand over his face. “He’s getting worse,” he mutters. “This morning, I found him checking the feed at three a.m. Goddamn control freak.”
“I don’t think he’s sleeping at all,” I agree, my thoughts racing. “Hey, you wouldn’t actually go, right? You can’t leave.”
“I would,” he growls. “I just can’t stand him anymore. Can’t stand the way he looks at me. I can’t stand—” He closes his eyes. “Whatever. There are other places that’ll take me.” He pushes out of the pen. “See you at lunch.”
I don’t say anything as he stomps out of the lambing shed. I feel sick.
Cameron can’t leave. For as long as I can remember, it’s been the three of us and Lochview.
There’s a weak bleat in the straw. I pick up Crumpet and hold her on my lap. “Something has to change,” I tell her. “Now.”