Kindling

Chapter 27

27

“You, my friend, are a fucking superstar.” Andy appeared seemingly out of nowhere, emerging from the bustling crowd like an apparition with a broad grin on their face. Harper assumed they were talking about Fraser and his work until Andy pointed right at her. “I showed my parents everything you came up with the other day. They were so excited about the plans that they barely even noticed the reno!”

Harper felt Fraser’s arm snake around her waist and give her a congratulatory squeeze. She loved that feeling, the way he always seemed to want her close, but today it felt… tainted . Would he still want to touch her when she told him about the job interview, or would this be the end of them? He’d already pulled away from her once. He could easily do it again.

She swallowed the trepidation rising in her throat. “That’s great news, Andy. I’m so glad.”

“So, your crisis was for nothing?” Fraser joshed.

Andy put their hands on their hips and glared, revealing a blue and pink striped T-shirt printed with the words, sisterhood, not cisterhood beneath their denim jacket . Harper wanted it immediately. “Not for nothing. My mother would like to know how long it will take to finish renovating her beloved B&B. I told her it would depend on whether you plan to show your face at work or skive off again.”

Fraser’s body tensed against Harper’s, and she looked up to see his face darkening, despite the clear sarcasm in Andy’s tone. She placed a steadying hand on his chest, wondering if perhaps Andy had finally gone a step too far. Fraser was no skiver, and to keep throwing that absent afternoon in his face, which he’d made up for on a bloody weekend, wasn’t fair – even if it was a joke.

Andy noticed Fraser’s change in mood and tutted, standing on their tiptoes to ruffle his hair across the table. “I’m kidding, pal. What are all these?”

They picked up one of the figurines, a beautiful pink-haired trans fairy with top scars whom Harper had already asked to feature in her novel.

“Fairies,” Fraser said bluntly.

“Sick! Who made them?” Andy traced the top scars, reverence glistening in their eyes. Harper’s heart warmed. “I’ve seen some on the Fairy Trail, but never ones like this.”

Since Fraser still seemed frozen, Harper cleared her throat and picked out the fairy resembling Andy, with silver wings and dungarees, a perfect balance of realistic and whimsical.

Andy blinked as though none of it made sense, then twirled their own lip ring as though pondering the shared characteristic. “Wait… Is that me?” They slowly lifted their head to Fraser. “Who…” Realisation settled like daylight on their elfin face: hazy at first, and then bright all at once. “ You !”

Fraser nodded once, tersely. “You’re not the only one Harper has worked her marketing magic on.”

“Shut up!” Andy punched him in the arm, hard enough that he winced. “Fucking hell, Fraser. These are amazing. Can you make me some more for the B&B?” They gasped. “My mum loves sentimental shite.”

“Not that these are shite ,” Harper was quick to cut in.

“No, no.” They shook their head, wide-eyed. “These are…” They licked their lips, seemingly lost for words as they took in the other figurines. “These are something else.”

“We were thinking that maybe you could share your grand reopening with Fraser’s launch party,” Harper said before Fraser could stop her. “Have a little celebration for the businesses of Belbarrow and kill two birds with one stone. What do you think?”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. I was planning for the twenty-third of November. Will you still be here then?”

Harper tensed. That was the week of her interview, should she choose to go. Still, she refused to miss the party either way, even if the train fares would cost a fortune. One last weekend in Belbarrow… “Yes. Of course!”

“Let’s do it, then.” Andy shook their head again. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“That’s a good question.” Eiley sidled up beside Andy, stationing her pram. She didn’t even look at Fraser, instead going straight to the figurines.

Beside her, his mum put a hand over her mouth. “Fraser Thomas Milligan. What on earth are you like?”

Fraser took a deep breath, rearing back on his heels. Harper offered him a supportive smile, but she couldn’t help but mouth Thomas mischievously, and he rolled his eyes in response.

Fraser swallowed. “What do you think, Mum? Eiley?”

“I can’t believe this,” Myra said, shaking her head, and he stiffened until Eiley cut in.

“They’re amazing, Fraser.” Eiley’s face was shining with pride.

“They’re wondrous,” breathed Myra, eyes glistening. “My boy, an artist!”

Finally, Fraser broke into a smile. He blinked rapidly then cleared his throat. “I know I should have said something to you sooner.” He turned his gaze to Harper. “But I’m glad somebody convinced me they deserved to be shown off.”

“Aye, that they do!” Myra exclaimed, leaning heavily on her crutch as though he’d truly swept her off her feet. “I remember you used to bring home all sorts of beautiful work when you were at high school. I always hoped you’d stick with something creative.”

“ Creativity doesn’t pay the bills is actually what you said,” Fraser replied pointedly. Another pang shot through Harper. Unfortunately, that was true. Her unfinished novel wouldn’t be garnering an income any time soon, even if she aimed for a bestseller.

Returning to Brentworth would.

“Well, you might just prove me wrong.” Myra slipped between the stalls to take Fraser’s face in her hands. Her cheeks were swollen with pride, eyes glittering with the same ocean-blue clarity as his. “You make me so proud.”

Fraser slipped out of the stall and pulled his mother into a hug. Eiley joined, along with Brook, and Harper was content to stand back and watch the sweet moment unfold. It must be the best feeling in the world, she thought, to have a big family like that, full of love and support. Her own parents were wonderful, but she’d always longed for funny aunts and gruff uncles, kind-hearted grandmas and softly spoken grandpas. Cousins. Nieces, nephews. A full circle of people she belonged with, not just at Christmas and birthdays, but all year round.

Andy, on the other hand, mimicked poking their finger down their throat and gagging. “That’s my cue to leave. Cheers though, pal. And you, Harper. Come and stop by the B&B this week, won’t you? I promise I won’t force you to paint again.”

Harper laughed. “I’ll try,” was all she could promise.

While Fraser and his mum continued chatting, a few of the locals joining in, Eiley tugged Harper’s sleeve gently. “Shall we grab a coffee?” Her gaze was soft. Knowing.

Harper nodded. Eiley asked Myra to watch Brook, then Harper followed Eiley past the sunflower barrels and face-painting stand. She wheeled Saffron and Sky expertly across the cobbles, all the way to the Raindrop Café’s minute stall. A few tables and chairs had been set up around it, and Cam was offering out tasters of scones and flavoured lattes to those interested. Still no pumpkin spice , Harper lamented sadly.

“We’ll have whatever drinks have the most calories,” Eiley said as they greeted Cam, perching on the chair closest.

“I like your style.” Harper took a deep breath as she joined her at the table. Her feet throbbed from standing up for most of the day in her heeled boots, but she found she quite liked the ache. It was proof she’d made a change, done something different and important with someone she…

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, a small punishment for being so silly. Loved , she’d wanted to think. Suddenly, she wished she could pause time. Wanted to stay frozen here at this table, so that she would never have to tell Fraser about the job, and so that she would never have to get on the train back to Manchester.

Eiley glanced at her as she rocked the pram back and forth. Behind her, Cam steamed the milk with a raucous sputter from the machine.

“You’ve done so much for my brother,” Eiley began finally. “He never would have shown us his work without you.”

Harper shrugged. “I’m sure he would have eventually. He just needed a bit of prodding.”

“He needed more than that.” Eiley leaned forwards, playing with the laminated menu on the table. “I’ve always tried to give him the same support that he gives me, but he usually likes to keep quiet when he’s struggling. He’s always so… hyper-focused on work, or whatever else needs to be done. It’s like he’s put up a barrier between us.”

“I think he likes to take care of you,” Harper said tenderly. But she knew exactly what Eiley meant about the barrier. She wasn’t entirely convinced she’d passed over it yet, either.

“It’s more than that. He needs to take care of us, or at least, he thinks he does.”

Harper frowned, so Eiley continued. “I barely remember our dad, but I know Fraser saw a lot of the hurt Mum was put through when he left. I think maybe he thinks he has to be our father as well as our brother, to make up for it. All that ‘man of the house’ crap. I don’t believe in it, but Dad did. Fraser does.”

“He does take on too much,” she agreed, thinking of Fraser’s reaction to Andy and their pointed remarks. He didn’t like to fall short. Liked to be on top of everything all the time. Even down to the feelings he had for Harper, and hers for him – he’d been so reluctant to give in to them.

Harper understood. She’d lived most of her life trying to be perfect, whether it was on social media, at work, in her relationships. Every setback felt like the end of the world, a personal failure, proof she was just not good enough.

She hated to think of Fraser with that same mindset, especially when it came to family. Wasn’t that supposed to be the one thing in life that was simple, easy? One thing you didn’t have to work for?

“But he’s got better since he met you,” said Eiley. She sat back as Cam placed down their drinks, two large mugs towering with whipped cream, caramel sauce, and chocolate sprinkles.

Harper looked up at Cam. “My sweet tooth and I love you.”

Cam patted her shoulder. “I love you both, too. What are we talking about?” She peeked over her shoulder, found no customers waiting at the counter, and straddled the back of a chair from the next table over to face them.

“Fraser, and how good Harper is for him.” Eiley beamed.

“Oh, aye. This I can attest to.”

Harper sank deeper into her chair. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the two most important people in his life sing her praises, not when she might never see them again. Or him. Whether she was good for him or not, she was leaving. It didn’t matter whether it was now or later. This thing couldn’t last.

“But something is wrong,” Eiley whispered, placing her hand over Harper’s on the table.

Tears sprang to Harper’s eyes. She couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Oh, shite. Now look what you’ve done, Eiley. Usually, I’m the one who makes people cry.” Cam pulled a wad of napkins out of her apron and set them before Harper. Harper took one, dabbing her eyes, but it was no use. One tear was wiped, and two more took its place. Before she knew it, streams were rolling down her cheeks.

Eiley tutted and shifted her chair closer, metal legs scraping against stone as she placed her arm around Harper’s shuddering shoulders. “I knew something was up. I’m sorry, Harper.”

Harper shook her head, covering her face to hide her twisted expression of pain. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” asked Cam.

“I got an invitation from my old boss to interview for a new position, a promotion. He would want me back in Manchester to meet him the week after next.”

“That’s so soon,” Eiley breathed nervously. “Have you told Fraser?”

Harper studied her hands. “I don’t know how! Part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me doesn’t want to leave at all. But I can’t just stay here forever. I won’t get an opportunity like this again. It took me years to find a decent job in the first place.”

“Shite,” Cam murmured again. “This is really fucking shite.”

Harper was inclined to agree. “It’s my own fault. We promised each other this would be casual. Easy.”

“I’m going to tell you a secret, babe. Our brother is rarely casual or easy.”

Eiley nodded, mouth set into a solemn line. “I haven’t seen him like this with somebody for years. He always calls things off the minute it gets too intense.”

“Not helping!” Harper whined and hit her head against the table.

Cam ran soothing circles between her shoulder blades. “If you did tell him, what would be the ideal outcome? What would you want him to say? Would you want to try long distance?”

Harper had been wondering the same thing all week. What would he say? Part of her dreamed he might ask her to stay, like he was some knight in a fairy tale willing to sweep her off her feet, keep her here where things were quiet and peaceful and good. But that was too Hallmark movie , even for her. She couldn’t just… stay. She’d always been used to the big city, to a steady job. What would she do here when the novelty of it all wore off? Who would she be without her family nearby and her old job long gone?

Writing in the cabin all day was a nice dream, but was it hers, or just the escape she’d needed after a rough few months?

And long distance… She could already feel those two words ripping a hole in her heart, making it hard to breathe. FaceTime calls and rushed text messages wouldn’t be enough for her. Not with him. She would miss him more than she’d see him, and she was not prepared to become a full-time yearner.

It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that her new favourite person lived three hundred miles north of her. It wasn’t fair that she’d finally found a place where she felt true belonging and acceptance, but it wasn’t permanent.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” she admitted finally. “We both know this is coming to an end sooner or later. I can’t expect anything from him.”

Eiley sighed. “I think you can. If you want to, you can.”

“And if you want to,” Cam said, “maybe it’s a sign that this was never supposed to be just casual. You’re allowed to want more, Harper. Things aren’t usually so simple. Fuck, it took me many pep talks in front of the mirror to ask Sorcha out. Months to ask her if she wanted to make things serious. I was scared shitless the whole time.”

“Cam’s right.” Eiley spooned some whipped cream into her mouth. “You might have agreed that this would end, but feelings change. Look at Finlay. We decided to have three kids together, and then he decided to leave us.”

Harper appreciated Cam and Eiley immensely, but none of these things were helping. If there were no rules here that she could follow to avoid getting hurt, how was she supposed to survive? What if she was foolish enough to turn down the job interview only to find out in another few weeks, months, years, that she and Fraser were never meant to be? What if she did attend the interview but Brentworth didn’t hire her? What if she was hired and she hated every moment of it, and working with Kenzie again left her broken, and her novel was never written, and she had to push down this new version of herself until she was dead on the inside?

What if she felt like she was always making the wrong decisions because there were no right ones? What if she would always feel just a little bit wrong, a little bit too vulnerable?

“I don’t want my decision to depend on him,” she admitted. “I don’t want to be that girl who turns down a job because she fancies someone.”

“I think it’s more than just a case of fancying him.” Cam lifted her brows. “And you’re not ‘that girl’, Harper. ‘That girl’ doesn’t exist. It’s just a bullshit stereotype to make women who want love and peace over independence and work feel bad. You’re a strong woman with a lot to offer the world. Your decision would never change that. There’s nothing wrong with choosing a connection over a career, if that’s what you want. It’s only an issue if you feel like you’re being forced to sacrifice one for the other, and he would never put you in that position.”

“The best thing you can do is talk to him,” Eiley added. “You’re driving yourself mad, but he’s a good man. He’ll help you figure it out. He would want to figure it out. I know he would.”

Harper looked down, playing with the wooden button on her coat sleeve. Her fingers were cold. Her coffee would be, too. “It’s more than just choosing him or my job. It’s the writing, too. For once in my life, I’ve been doing something I really love, something I’m learning not to need immediate validation for, all on my own.”

“It sounds like maybe you’ve already made your decision, then,” Cam replied.

Harper took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wished it was that simple.