Chapter 19
19
The weather was miserable, and so was Fraser. What was he trying to prove by keeping Harper at arm’s length, other than that he was an eejit? He’d mastered the art of caring for people from a young age, looking after his sisters when he could barely look after himself. Yet now his problem was that he cared too much about a woman who was destined to leave soon enough.
He was a walking paradox. He hated it.
He huffed his way into the tearoom, boots squelching against the glossy wood floors as he approached the counter. His sour mood hadn’t been improved by Andy. He loved supporting his friends, but Andy was stressed, and taking it out on everyone. Today, Andy had yelled at Fraser for making too much noise when drilling, then for not working fast enough when he’d quietened down. Jack had suffered a ten-minute rant simply for asking if he could use the bathroom. “I’m losing money every minute we spend closed,” Andy had reminded everyone – which made Fraser wonder if they regretted not letting a room to Harper when they had the chance.
Andy’s uncharacteristically high-maintenance behaviour might have had something to do with their parents being back in town after a summer spent travelling. No doubt, Andy wanted to make the retired owners proud after the management had been passed down just last year, and Fraser understood that completely. He just hadn’t known that, beneath Andy’s nonchalant exterior, was a grizzly tyrant he was quite afraid of.
Either way, they were on a time crunch. Fraser had volunteered to grab lunch just to be free from all the pressure for a few moments, but the knots didn’t leave his shoulders even when he was two streets away from Flockhart’s. The miserable weather didn’t help. By the time he reached the tearoom, he was soaked through and dripping rainwater all over the polished tiles. He picked up enough sandwiches from the fridge to feed a small army, then ordered a coffee and two teas to go.
As he leaned against the counter, exhausted, he caught Dot waving at him. She sat at a table by the window with the rest of the hiking group, who always finished their Friday morning walk with a natter here. He wasn’t much in the mood to socialise, but he went over so as not to be rude, tearing his hood off his head. “Afternoon, Dot. Did you brave the weather this morning?”
They all looked drenched enough to confirm the answer was yes. Their commitment to hiking was something even he couldn’t understand, but it was nice to see that the community was so unwavering. Rain or shine, nothing ever really changed in Belbarrow. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Aye, not even a tornado could stop us!” Dot chortled as her friends agreed jovially. “And we had a new member today. Your Harper!”
“She’s, uh, not my Harper, Dot.” He surveyed the café as though he might find her sitting somewhere nearby. He was sure that if she heard anybody calling her theirs , she’d blow a fuse.
“Well, she’s our Harper now, and she loved it. She even stayed behind to enjoy the wee view! It’s ever so nice up on Macaskill. I told her all about Robert Whatshisname writing there.”
Fraser blinked. He had no clue who Robert Whatshisname was. Still, the ground swayed beneath him as realisation struck him.
She’d stayed behind. On Macaskill Ridge, of all places.
“She… She’s up there in this weather?” He worked to keep his tone light.
“It wasn’t so bad,” Morag, the tearoom’s owner, chimed in beside Dot. “We only got swept around a wee bit.”
Her bedraggled grey curls, sitting on her head at all angles, said otherwise.
Ice-cold dread chilled the nape of his neck. “Does she know the way back?”
“Oh, aye. Keith stayed too so he could help her down.” Dot patted Fraser’s arm. “Besides, she texted me when they were on their way back. She’s a big girl. She’s fine!”
Was she, though? He wouldn’t like it if Cam or Eiley walked to the bus stop in this weather, never mind down Macaskill Ridge.
He wrung his hands as he stared out of the window. It was chaos out there. Howling winds and pouring rain. So dark it might as well have been evening already.
“When did she text you that?” he asked.
Dot squinted. “Well, about… forty minutes ago?”
He shook his head. How could they just leave a tourist out in this? He knew Keith was an experienced hiker – Fraser had met him a few times while delivering firewood to his elderly mother – but still …
Whirling on his heels, he pulled out his phone and called Harper. The sight of his thumb trembling against the screen was a shock to his system.
Why did he care this much? Should he? Did he want to?
He told himself he would have reacted the same no matter who it was. He remembered not too many years ago, an air ambulance had been called at that same ridge because a hiker had slipped in severe weather conditions. It could happen easily, and he…
He couldn’t finish that sentence. Not when Harper didn’t pick up. His call went to voicemail without even ringing.
“Shit,” he whispered. Then, to Morag’s son at the counter: “Could I grab this order when I come back?”
“Okay.” He frowned but put the sandwiches aside. Fraser thanked him then rushed out, away from the chatter of the hiking group and into the relentless torrent. He slipped into his truck quickly and tried to call Harper again.
“Pick up, Harper,” he hissed.
She didn’t.
There was no way he was going to leave her out there, not knowing if she was all right.
He set off towards Macaskill Ridge and prayed he would find her in one piece.
The rain smudged his view of the cabin, turning the walls and surrounding forest into a grim smear of drab brown and grey. Fraser drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, windshield wipers squeaking through the tense silence as he slumped back in his seat. There was no sign of her near Macaskill, nor inside.
There weren’t many places left to look. After a few more moments swimming in panic, he forced himself out of the truck and followed the trail to the café on foot. His last hope. His body bristled with dread, his strides heavy. To anyone else, he would seem ridiculous. Paranoid. Overbearing, just like Cam accused. But he considered it his job to keep Harper safe, just as it was to keep his family afloat. She was his guest. She trusted him. If something had happened…
The lights of the café glittered into view, their reflections roiling in the restless loch like yellow watercolours. He marched straight inside, glad to find his sister at the counter, though she appeared alarmed by his dramatic entrance.
“Have you seen her?” His tone bordered on desperate.
Cam smirked. Smirked .
His fingers curled into his palms, car keys digging into his flesh – until she gestured over the counter to something behind him.
Slowly, he turned around – and his heart stuttered into its usual rhythm again.
Harper hadn’t even noticed him come in. She had her earphones in and typed furiously on her laptop, lost in whatever universe she’d been creating ever since their visit to the Fairy Trail.
He collapsed against the counter, relief searing his skin like scalding water spilled from a kettle. Now he just felt silly. He’d been imagining her in all sorts of states, and she was here. Warm, healthy, safe.
“Something the matter, Frase?” Cam questioned, mirth dancing in her voice. “You look a bit on edge.”
“She didn’t come back with her hiking group,” he muttered. “You could have texted me.”
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, feigning nonchalance. “To save you from having to confront your obvious infatuation? That doesn’t sound like me.”
“I was worried sick!” he snapped, and then recoiled, an ache building behind his eyes. He wished he didn’t always imagine the worst. He might have been thirty-three, but he felt like a kid lost in the supermarket far too often.
Cam’s face morphed into worry, the mirth quickly wiped from her features. “Fraser…”
“What’s wrong?” Harper’s voice echoed in the otherwise empty café, calm and oblivious to the storm raging inside him.
“What’s wrong is that I thought you were lost, or hurt.” He paced towards her, anger replacing his anxiety without warning. “You didn’t come back with Dot.”
She regarded him with bewilderment. “I wanted to stay a while longer. There was a nice view.”
“In this weather?” He jabbed a finger at the rivulets running down the windows. The loch heaved outside, leaves whistling through the wind as though pulled along by strings. “You could have slipped up there!”
“I wasn’t on my own.”
“Jesus.” Fraser shook his head, nausea bubbling inside him. Of all the strange, unwelcome feelings he’d had for Harper, this was the one he hated most. This was why he’d put distance between them. This was why he didn’t do relationships.
“Fraser…” Harper stood up. Took a tentative step towards him.
“Why didn’t you pick up your phone?”
She pulled it from her pocket and checked the screen. “No signal. The Wi-Fi must be down. Sorry. I didn’t know. But I was fine. I can manage a day without you, you know.” Her own words were barbed now.
He was in no mood to fight with her. If anything, he wanted to drag her home and kiss her until the tempest inside him settled. Until there were no more doubts that she was safe. Until he could feel her blood pumping, heart beating, and this close encounter with his worst fears became nothing more than a distant memory.
He tore off his coat and draped it over the back of the nearest chair before sagging into the one at her table. He glared at the back of her rose-gold laptop until she sat down opposite, clearly unsettled.
“You’re still drenched,” he pointed out, pinching one of her damp curls between his fingers.
She shrugged. “I was too cold for a shower in the cabin, and I couldn’t find any firewood. Thought I’d dry off here. It’s warmer.”
“I bought you a heater,” he prompted.
She clucked her tongue. “Okay, fine. I was scared the flimsy walls were going to come down in this wind, but that doesn’t make me a damsel in distress!”
He wanted to laugh but couldn’t find it in him. Now the fear was gone, the anger subdued, he felt hollowed out. His insides were a shipwreck.
Why? Why had this – she – affected him so much? Because she’s my guest , he tried to reason with himself, but that didn’t feel like a good enough explanation for such a ridiculous reaction.
“The walls aren’t flimsy.” When he took her hand, she shivered. “I have a perfectly functioning hot shower in my house.”
“Well, I know you’re upset, but there’s no need to brag.” She shut her laptop abruptly.
He scoffed. “You are an eejit, Harper. That was an offer , not a brag.”
Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forwards. He hated that, even now, in all her stubbornness, she was perfect, baby hairs sticking to her temples and her cheeks an endearing rosy pink. A beauty spot kissed her jaw, just under her double-pierced right earlobe. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Why hadn’t he already kissed it?
“An offer,” she repeated as though suspicious of some hidden clause. “Does this come as a perk for all your cabin guests?”
“Only the obnoxious ones.”
She rolled her eyes and stood up, burying her laptop and notebook in her oversized shoulder bag. “You didn’t even ask me how my hike was.”
“I know how it was. Wet, windy, and dangerous.”
“Cam, your brother is a wrongun,” she called over his head.
Cam chuckled. “Only when he cares, believe it or not. That means you have to forgive him.”
He couldn’t help but admire his sister for recognising this truth. For better or worse.
“I’ll think about it,” Harper said.
But then she smiled at him and he was certain that, for just a moment, the rain stopped pouring.