Chapter 6
Erica wasn’t entirely sure how she’d ended up half draped over his shoulder.
Her fall had left her disoriented, her ankle throbbing, and the thought of putting weight on it sent a sharp flare of fear through her.
Part of her knew this was ridiculous, letting a stranger half carry her here of all places. But that voice was distant, muffled beneath exhaustion and the simple fact that she didn’t have it in her to resist.
He muttered something about a cottage, the words clipped and practical, as though he was thinking aloud rather than explaining himself. She let herself be guided, her arm slung over his shoulders for balance. The ground dipped and shifted beneath her, and she stumbled again.
Before she could gather herself, his arms came fully around her and he lifted her clear of the path.
She startled, instinctively drawing a breath to protest – but nothing came.
His grip was firm, sure, unexpectedly gentle, as if he was used to carrying weight without fuss.
She found herself leaning into him, the warmth of his coat seeping through the chill.
Awkward and oddly comforting all at once.
Ahead, a small cottage took shape in the dark, tucked low against the hillside as though it belonged there. One window held a faint glow of the moon catching the glass between passing clouds.
A dog waited at the gate, alert and still, while the sheep clustered close behind it, pale shapes against the night. They huddled together as though for warmth, the dog standing guard with quiet vigilance.
The man shifted her weight as they reached the gate, breath heavy now. “Hold on,” he muttered, easing her down carefully against the gatepost.
A low whistle cut through the wind. The dog sprang into motion, circling the sheep until they bunched neatly in the corner of the garden. Another sharp whistle and the dog froze, obedient and watchful, as the man pushed the gate open and guided the flock inside. Hooves clicked softly against stone.
The garden was little more than rough grass and leaning fence posts, but it was enough. He latched the gate, crouched briefly to give the dog a brisk pat. “Good lad,” he said, gruff with affection.
He turned back to Erica, who was still braced against the post, her breath shallow. “Come on,” he said more gently. “Let’s get you inside.”
He opened the cottage door without a key – she noticed that, even now – and helped her in, settling her onto a sofa that was cold and faintly damp. He flicked on the light.
The room came into view in a wash of yellow. Sparse. Practical. A log-burning stove squatted in one corner, cold and dark, a wooden chair drawn up beside it. Curtains hung heavy at the windows. Nothing unnecessary.
Only then did she properly take him in. His broad shoulders, the weathered coat. He was the man from the path earlier, now moving through the space with ease.
He crossed to the stove, checked the flue, tugged back a curtain to peer out at the sporadic rain, then ran a hand along the windowsill. At last, he found a small box of matches and nodded to himself.
Erica stayed where she was. The silence pressed in, stretched thin by the sound of wind against the walls.
“Gabriel?” she said finally. “Is it?”
He didn’t turn, just nodded.
“I don’t know what you must think of me,” she said, the words barely there. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
He struck a match and bent to the stove. “Don’t blame you for falling,” he said mildly. “Ground’s riddled with hare dens. Easy to go over.”
The flame caught. He blew out the match and fed the fire another log.
Erica’s hands were shaking now. She folded her arms tight around herself, waiting for feeling to return to her fingers. “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “It was like … I ended up there again.”
“You went for a walk,” he said, crouched by the stove. “Got caught in the rain.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” she whispered. “What if I had just—”
He straightened, brushing his hands on his trousers. “You didn’t,” he said firmly, not unkind. “That’s all that matters.”
Her phone buzzed sharply, making her flinch. Leah’s name flashed on the screen.
Erica hesitated, then answered.
“Thank god,” Leah burst out. “Where are you? You just disappeared! It’s wild out there. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Erica said too quickly. “I just … went for a walk.”
“In this?” Leah demanded. “You’re not telling me something. Where are you?”
Erica’s mouth opened, then closed. She didn’t know how to explain it – not to Leah, not to herself.
Gabriel reached out and gently took the phone from her hand.
“Hi, Leah, is it?” Gabriel’s deep voice carried a calm authority. “Gabriel McTavish here. That’s right, the fireman. Well, I met your sister on the walk. The rain came down pretty bad, so I’ve got her here in my holiday cottage near the cliff.”
Erica could hear Leah’s voice on the other end, sharp with concern. “The cliff?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said, scratching the back of his neck.
“She saw me heading out to look for my flock. I’ve got sheep, you see.
Your sister kindly offered to help me find them, but the rain caught us off guard.
Turns out the sheep were on the cliff. All safe and sound now, though.
I’ll see her back to yours once this rain lets up.
” He paused, waiting for Leah’s response, then nodded as though she could see him. “Very good.”
He handed the phone back to Erica with a small, reassuring smile. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Hi,” Erica said hesitantly.
“Why didn’t you just say all that?” Leah sighed. “Well, I suppose you could do worse than Gabriel McTavish. He’s well respected around here.”
“It’s not like that,” Erica said quickly, her cheeks flushing.
“Just come home soon, okay?”
“Yes,” Erica murmured, echoing Gabriel’s earlier words. “When the rain stops.”
Leah hung up and Erica let the phone rest in her lap, staring at the dark screen as if it might light up again. Her pulse slowly eased, each breath coming a little less jagged than the last.
“You know my sister?” she said at last, the words slipping out before she’d fully formed the thought.
Gabriel glanced over from the stove. “Aye.”
She frowned faintly. “How?”
He shrugged, adding another log to the fire, unhurried.
“Hard not to, round here. Leah works nights, doesn’t she?
Hospital rota. I’ve crossed paths with her a few times, fundraisers, village things.
And you said your name earlier. I’d heard her sister was staying.
” He paused, then added, almost apologetically, “Small place. You start piecing things together.”
Something about that – how ordinary it was – unsettled her more than it should have. In London, anonymity had been a given. Here, her name travelled faster than she did.
“Oh,” she said. Then, after a beat, “Right.”
He didn’t press. Just nodded once and went back to tending the fire, as if that was explanation enough.
The heat began to creep into the room properly now, thawing her fingers, her shoulders, the tight knot lodged beneath her ribs. Outside, the wind still battered the cottage, but in here the sound was dulled and distant, as though the world had stepped back a pace.
Gabriel glanced her way, his expression unreadable, before turning back to tend to the stove. The sound of the wind battering the walls filled the small space between them.
Once the rain eased to a gentle patter and the wind calmed to a whisper, Gabriel led Erica back down the hill.
The lantern he had pulled from a cupboard between the snug living room and the compact kitchen swung gently in his hand, casting warm, flickering light onto the path ahead.
The night felt less menacing now, softened by the lantern’s glow and Gabriel’s steady presence beside her.
He had insisted she wear his coat, a thick, rugged thing that smelled of ash and earth. It was far too large, the sleeves hanging well past her hands, but Erica gratefully clung to it. She still shivered, her body trembling uncontrollably, but the coat and his quiet reassurance helped steady her.
With one arm around his shoulder, she walked tentatively. The lantern’s light bobbed ahead of them like a guiding star. Chep, his dog, stayed close, casting occasional glances up at Gabriel as if seeking approval or awaiting instructions.
The descent was slow, each step deliberate, and by the time they reached the bottom of the hill, Erica felt the exhaustion settle deep into her bones.
Gabriel helped her into the car, his hands gentle but firm as he guided her. The lingering ache in her ankle flared as she settled into the seat, but it was manageable now.
“You sure you don’t need me to drive you?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of quiet. His voice was low and even. “Chep will wait here. I wouldn’t dream of letting your fancy BMW smell like damp dog.”
She couldn’t see his face clearly in the low light, but she heard the smile in his words.
“Thank you.” She hadn't meant to sound quite so vulnerable. She started the car, relieved her foot was steady enough to work the clutch. “I really do appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“It was nothing,” he replied, stepping back a fraction but staying close to the open door. “I was heading out anyway. And the cottage … well. It has its uses.”
“It’s beautiful,” Erica murmured, though her thoughts had already wandered back to Leah's. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the gearstick. “Gabriel – could we … could we keep how we actually met between us? I just …” She faltered, the words tangling. “I’ve been going through some things, and I wouldn’t want anyone to … ”
He raised a hand gently, stopping her. Then he crouched beside the open door, meeting her gaze.
“As far as I’m concerned, you were out for a walk,” he said. “That’s it. None of my business, none of anyone else’s. Just yours.”
The sheer simplicity of it and his total lack of judgement brought a sudden ache to her throat. Erica managed a small nod because she knew her voice would surely fail her if she tried to speak.
She started the engine. The dashboard lit up, the heater coughing into life, warm air beginning to fill the car. Still, Gabriel didn’t move away. He remained crouched beside her, one side of his face caught in the lantern’s glow, the other swallowed by shadow.
For a moment, she wondered what he was thinking. Then he spoke, quieter now, his tone careful but sincere. “Whatever it was you thought you might do … just give yourself a moment next time. Long enough to ask for help.”
The words lingered in the air between them, heavy and unflinching. He stood slowly, closing the car door with a firm but gentle motion.
Erica’s hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel, her chest tightening with a lump that felt both familiar and unbearable.
She drove slowly back to Leah’s, the sound of the engine humming low in the background.
And yet the lump remained, sitting in her throat like an unwelcome visitor.
An old presence she had no interest in welcoming back.