Chapter 3
3
Fraser tried to hide his grim annoyance as he urged the strange lass into the cabin. This was about the only place where he wasn’t bothered by humans – deer and foxes and sometimes Bernard, aye, but no humans – and yet it seemed that was no longer true.
He would have to build a much taller fence.
As he shut the door behind both Bernard and the dripping woman, he couldn’t help but try to gauge some impression of her that wasn’t triggered by anger on behalf of his squashed juniper saplings. They’d been endangered before she got here. By the time she left, they might be extinct.
It was hard to read her at all when she was engrossed by her phone, freckled face limned by its silvery glow. She chewed the inside of her cheek, lips coming together in a plump pink rosebud as she danced around the cabin, waving the phone in mid-air.
“You’ll not get signal here,” he informed her, trying to quash his own amusement. Where had this woman come from?
Not these parts, that was for sure. He’d heard a northern – Mancunian? – lilt when she’d apologised to him earlier, vowels soft as melted butter. Unfortunately, that softness was nowhere to be seen now. She huffed, scrubbing a hand over her face, which only served to spread the mud from her palms across her cheeks.
“Where are we, exactly? Is this another Airbnb?” Her forest-brown eyes scanned her surroundings warily, from the workbench covered in wood shavings to the sagging couch he was no longer brave enough to sit on. Cautiously, she added, “… For lumberjacks?”
Clearly, she’d noticed his chopping block outside. Now, her attention caught on the array of saws and other tools hanging by the door in place of the old coat pegs.
“Does it look like an Airbnb?” Fraser couldn’t help but snarl at the mention of those godforsaken rentals, popping up everywhere and ruining the Highland landscape – not to mention putting him out of bloody jobs. It was hard to tend to the forest when the trees were being chopped down to make room for guest houses, which was why he’d planted those saplings in the first place. It was his job to keep the forest a forest, keep the trees healthy and the woods populated. Sometimes, he felt like the only person here who gave a shite about any of it.
“It looks like an axe-murderer’s workshop,” she whispered quietly, eyes wide.
“ What ?” Fraser pinched his chin impatiently. Twice now, she had accused him of being a serial killer. He understood that women felt unsafe and that it was men’s responsibility to do better, but he was trying to help her, for heaven’s sake. She was the one disturbing his peace!
With Bernard trailing happily at his feet, he shifted past her, careful not to brush against her curves. Curves he was trying very, very hard not to notice.
From the box-sized bathroom, he grabbed the only towel he had. He couldn’t remember if he’d used it or not, but it looked and smelled clean enough.
It was cleaner than her, at least.
He threw it to her, but since she was back to frantically wafting her phone in search of signal, it landed on top of her head.
“You were supposed to catch,” he said when she yanked it down to glare at him.
“Thanks,” she bit out. “You didn’t answer my earlier question. Is that because you plan on kidnapping me?”
“On the contrary, I’m keen to send you on your merry way as soon as possible. Believe it or not, I have work to do.” He tugged uncomfortably at his damp shirt, which clung to his body like a second skin. If he could just get her gone, reclaim his space, he could yank it off and get some work done in here.
He frowned, another question dawning on him. “How can you not know where you are, by the way?”
She sighed, rubbing the muck off her face and clothes. Beneath her rain-soaked plaid jacket, she wore a black turtleneck and ripped jeans, both of which hugged the thick crests of her body in a way that didn’t make ignoring them much easier. Fraser feigned interest in patting down Bernard, who was more than happy to receive the averted attention.
“I can’t get signal on my phone. I was supposed to be staying at Heatherly Lodge?” She said it like it was a question. It needn’t have been. Fraser knew exactly where that newly built eyesore stood.
“That piece of shite,” he scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s about three miles back, although if I were you, I’d keep on walking the opposite way.”
The woman’s face flushed with heated surprise. “ Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “I’m afraid I’m anti-Airbnb. They’ve taken too much from our town, greedy bastards.”
She blinked. “Okay… Well, I’m currently anti-Airbnb, too, because the host just cancelled my booking and left me lost in the middle of the woods.”
“They did what ?” A new wave of anger rolled over him. What sort of heartless shitebag left a woman alone in the middle of the woods? No wonder she was shaken up. “They really just left you to fend for yourself?”
She sighed, wringing the towel in her hands as she nodded. “Yep. Now I don’t know what to do. If you could direct me to a hotel, that would be great. But I’m not good with directions, so explain them to me like I’m ten.”
“There are no Hiltons or Travel Lodges around these parts.” He couldn’t help but smirk. This woman truly didn’t know where she was.
“There must be a B&B somewhere, though?”
There was. His friend Andy’s B&B had been in the Flockhart family for generations. But thanks to godforsaken places like Heatherly Lodge, business was suffering.
“Aye, there’s one in town, but…” He checked his wristwatch, ticking away the daylight. The nights were only getting darker, and that made everyone’s jobs slower than ever. Soon, there would only be a few hours of waning sun each day – and he was not looking forward to it. He always grew too restless when he couldn’t keep his hands busy. “It’s too late to book in tonight.”
Andy would be glad for the customer tomorrow, though, especially right before they started renovating. If he could get her a place to stay tonight…
She groaned. “God, you’re right. Well, it’s official. I have nowhere to stay.”
Wrinkling her nose, she wiped Bernard’s moulted white fur from Fraser’s lacklustre couch cushions before slumping on one. He raised his brows. When, exactly, had he invited her to make herself at home?
What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t get back to work, not with her in his space, disrupting his usual tranquillity, and he certainly couldn’t kick her out. That would make him as bad as the shitty lodge owner who had put her in this position.
“I knew I shouldn’t have bothered with this,” she mumbled into the towel. “I should’ve known it would all go tits up.”
His mouth twitched in amusement at the expression. She might not have been Scottish, but she spoke just as plainly as any local. Something lodged into his chest like a nail tapped into splintering wood.
Shite . He was going to have to help her.
He was going to have to let her stay.
“I don’t suppose you have Wi-Fi?” she murmured. Beside her, Bernard hopped onto the couch and curled up. Absently, she stroked his damp fur.
“No Wi-Fi, but…” He slapped his fist into his other palm nervously. He was absolutely going to regret this. “I have a bed.”
She blushed a violent pink. “Now’s not really an appropriate time for that , I don’t think. I just got out of a long-term relationship, and—”
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, dragging a hand through his hair roughly as embarrassment pulsated through him. “I don’t mean that !”
“Oh, god.” She covered her mouth. Past her fingers, he could still see deep dimples at the corners, where her shock folded into pretty shadows.
She was pretty, he saw now the dirt had been wiped away. Full, rosy cheeks, long lashes, deep-set eyes, upturned nose. Her hair dried in blonde waves, curling at the ends. Something stirred in his gut, but he pushed it away quickly. He’d spent plenty of time avoiding those particular feelings, and wasn’t about to stop for a random tourist who had no problem shelling out money to his biggest enemy.
“I meant,” he said through gritted teeth, “that if you absolutely must stay here, you could. This is just where I work. I live in town. The place will be going unused tonight.”
She let out several hums of varying tones, looking around once more. “Does it always smell like sawdust?”
“Aye, on account of all the sawdust,” he quipped, running his finger along the workbench to demonstrate. “I’d apologise, only I don’t usually rent this place out to city girls.”
Without invitation, she floated up and away, through the tiny hallway that led to the one, lonely bedroom.
“Please, let me show you around,” he muttered sarcastically before following her. In the doorway, she stopped, pursing her lips at the untouched single bed. He’d built it himself, his first practice project, but she didn’t need to know that. Luckily, the sheets were fresh, and only slightly wrinkled from Bernard’s heavy paws. “The dog sleeps on it more than I do. It’s rare I stay here.”
“It’s not too bad,” she said uncertainly. “But what about the wild animals outside? Will I wake up surrounded by wolves?”
He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “As long as you lock the gate, you’ll be okay. The wolves only come out on a full moon, anyway.”
Her eyes bulged, face leaching of colour. He would have felt bad if it wasn’t so funny. He leaned against the doorjamb, very aware that he was at least a foot taller than her. Defiantly, she tipped her chin to glare up at him. “You’re hilarious, making jokes at my expense. If you knew the kind of day I’ve had – the kind of month I’ve had, even – you wouldn’t be laughing!”
He rolled his eyes, not quite curious enough to ask what she meant, but still curious enough that the words lingered in his mind. “I’m offering you a place to stay. Take it or leave it.”
She tilted her head, still weighing it up. He wasn’t sure what there was left to weigh. Clearly, it was here or nowhere. “Is there plumbing?”
“Wouldn’t recommend using the shower unless you like it cold, and you might need to double-flush the bog, but aye, it’s functional.”
“Great to know when I’m covered in dirt.” Still, she finally dipped her head in acceptance. “All right, I’ll stay. Just for the night.” She rubbed her arms.
Fraser grabbed one of his wrinkled spare jumpers from the old dresser and offered it out. He took a much more worn flannel to replace his soaked T-shirt. “Gets chilly at night. Help yourself to anything you find. I’ll go and chop some wood, get a fire going.” He made to leave, then stopped when he realised he still didn’t know her name. “I’m Fraser, by the way.”
“Harper.” She swallowed, looking lost in his little room with his big jumper in her hands. “Thank you so much for this. I’m really sorry, again, for… breaking and entering, I guess.”
“I’ve had worse trespassers.” With that, he clicked for Bernard to join him and headed back out into the drizzle to chop the firewood.
As he worked, he pretended not to feel her eyes trained on him from the window. Pretended that he wasn’t perhaps putting more effort into his heavy-handed chops than usual.