Chapter 18
eighteen
THE WATCHER
“Fuck this weather!” he bellowed while kicking one of the rough wooden cots in the bunkhouse that he was forced to take shelter in. The same bunkhouse that the love of his life clearly chose to bypass, putting her life in danger.
He balled his fists, angry enough to burn the bunkhouse to the ground. There was no other option but to find Bébhinn as soon as the weather allowed.
He had to remind himself that she was highly trained in survival. She was one of the strongest long-distance hikers in their Dublin club.
She wouldn’t panic. She was smart and strong. Fierce and beautiful.
There was not a savvier outdoorsman than his love. She was so worthy of his worship that he was embarrassed for doubting her decision to press on even though he couldn’t follow.
The weather might have crushed his plan of surprising her in her bunk. He would have parted her tarp curtain, offering her a purple saxifrage bouquet…and his heart.
She would be lying on her back, with her piercing amber eyes staring up at him. She would open her arms for an embrace, realizing it was him she’d loved all along, begging his forgiveness for not seeing him sooner.
Sighing, he shook off his disappointment and lay down on a cot so he could envision a new surprise.
A better surprise.
As the snow continued to fall outside and the wind continued to howl, he could only smile in anticipation.
His forever…Bébhinn.