Chapter 33
WESTON
“If I knew you were going to put me to work,” Locke said, carrying one side of the wooden bench down the gravel path toward the firepit, “I would have worn different trousers.”
I snorted, lifting the other end of the bench that I’d had specially engraved as a memorial to Grandad.
It had only just arrived, and I wanted to be the one to place it instead of letting the team of laborers take it down.
The cherry on top was watching the cuffs of Locke’s designer jeans drag through the mud.
Grandad would have had a good laugh. “What did you think ‘come by and help us get the camp set up’ meant?”
“I don’t know,” Locke said, laughing. “I thought we’d be cutting a ribbon or something.”
“That’s next week. And anyway, I offered you wellies.
You declined.” When I’d turned to Lena one evening and told her I wanted to restart Grandad’s Highland Adventure Camp, there’d been no hesitation in her answer.
She’d grabbed my hand, squeezed with a big smile on her face, and said, “Aisling is going to make so many friends.”
And just like that, we were really doing it.
It had been a race against time to get the estate sorted before summer holidays began and kids started showing up.
With the help of a local contracting team, I’d managed to get the new cabins built for the overnight camps and had put together a brand-new activity center.
Lena had turned her focus to hiring management, activity planners, support staff, and the necessary counselors, employing many of the local teens for the summer.
Now we were a week away from launching the camp, and Locke and Alistair had turned up to check out the property ahead of opening day.
“Why do these things keep getting heavier?” Locke grunted, hiking up his end of the bench.
“Maybe you’re getting weaker in your old age,” I teased. “Pretty sure we used to move more than this around when we were kids.”
“Hiya, Weston!” Aisling raced past us in a pair of dungarees and boots, her blonde hair pulled back in two matching braids.
“Have you perfected your braids, or is that Lena’s handiwork?” Locke asked, staring after her.
“I’m still trying to master the ponytail,” I said, watching Milo bound after Aisling, barking excitedly. Bonnie whinnied, pulling up the rear as they raced through the wildflowers.
“I suppose we can’t all be magicians with hair like Alistair.”
“Hey, he’s had way more practice. And I’m getting better.” Truth be told, my hair-styling capabilities were pish, but I’d been informed I was the best bedtime storyteller, and I was still lording that one over Lena.
Locke stopped abruptly as Bonnie cut in close, neighing loudly to let us know we had almost gotten in her way. “Quite a trio those three are,” he noted, chuckling at the sight.
I couldn’t help agreeing. I hadn’t realized this was missing from my life, but now that I had it—the giggles and that pure, unadulterated joy—I didn’t ever want to be without it again. Lochbrae would be far too quiet and empty without Aisling’s energy filling the space.
We continued down the muddy trail, coming upon the brand-new firepit area Callum had directed the contractor in digging. It was surrounded by a series of wooden benches and old yew logs from around the estate.
“I think you should get the contractor to fill the rest of this space in with gravel,” Alistair said as we reached him. “That should keep things from getting too muddy when it rains.”
“Agreed,” I said as Locke and I dropped the bench with a thud. Locke’s hands fell to his hips as he sucked in a ragged breath.
“A little too heavy for you?” Alistair teased.
Locke gave him the finger. Alistair smirked as he helped me position the bench, and it was a welcomed sight.
When he’d arrived last week, he’d looked rough, but in the time he’d been at Lochbrae, the circles under his eyes had started to fade a bit, and I hoped being out here allowed him a reprieve from the media hounds.
I couldn’t completely banish his concerns over the current lawsuit his company was putting him through, but I could give him and his daughter a safe space to escape to. Even for a short time.
“Where’d Kenna go?” Locke asked, looking around.
Alistair pointed over the hill. “Agnes took her up to the cattle shed. She wanted to see Arran again.”
Locke shook his head, flopping down on one of the benches. “I’ve never met a more popular coo.”
“I delivered her,” I reminded them.
Locke rolled his eyes dramatically. “So you’ve told us at least a dozen times.”
“A dozen?” Alistair snorted. “Make that one hundred. It’s been dinner conversation at least three nights in a row.”
“When was the last time either of you delivered a coo into the world?” I shot back, lips twitching. I was still extremely proud of that night, and no, I was never going to let them hear the end of it.
“Did you say Kenna’s in the cattle shed?” Aisling asked, racing over.
I nodded. She’d taken to the little girl from the moment Alistair and Kenna had arrived, and Kenna had been more than happy to toddle around after this older and wiser new friend.
Aisling, it seemed, had filled the role of the big sister Kenna had never had, and she was deeply intrigued by everything the girl did.
“Okay, I’m going to the cattle shed too!” she announced, rushing off. “I want to show Kenna the flowers I picked!”
“Don’t let Bonnie rile up all the animals,” I called after her, despite knowing it was a lost cause.
Locke got back to his feet, staring out at the newly built cabins. “Looks just like it did when we were kids. Doesn’t it?”
“Aye,” Alistair said, a real, full smile taking up room on his face.
“I tried to rebuild as much as I could to match the original camp,” I said. “Lena dug up a bunch of pictures from Grandad’s office, and I gave those to the contractors.”
“Who would have thought we’d be here again?” Locke said, laughing to himself. “Back where it all started after all this time.”
“Who would have thought it would be this guy restarting the Highland Adventure Camp?” Alistair said, nudging me playfully. “From what I remember, you could never even get your fire started.”
“That’s right!” Locke jumped in.
I scoffed. “My wood was wet.”
“Every time?” Locke teased.
I narrowed my eyes. “Yes.”
Alistair shook his head. “Just admit you were rubbish.”
“At least I didn’t sit in a big old pile of sheep shite,” I said, my eyes cutting in Locke’s direction as a wicked grin curled up my face. “I think we should erect a statue in honor of Shite Butt in the middle of camp.”
“That’s pure dead brilliant.” Alistair threw his arm over my shoulders. “The campers could pay tribute to the sheep gods every morning, asking for good fortune and to be spared the large piles of crap that turn good Highland boys into the dreaded creature known as Shite Butt.”
I threw my head back and laughed so hard my lungs burned. My next breath was a wheeze.
“You’re both arseholes,” Locke said. “You know that?” But he couldn’t hold back for long at the sight of me and Alistair breaking into fits of laughter, and the next thing I knew, all three of us were snickering and wiping tears from the corners of our eyes.
The moment was sobering, the memories and the nostalgia filling my chest with a warmth that made me long for Grandad. I rubbed my sternum.
“All right?” Locke asked.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” I said, voice low. “I don’t know if this ache will ever go away.”
Alistair sighed. “I’m not sure it’s supposed to. I think it’s supposed to be there to remind us of how much he’ll always be missed.”
“And how grateful we all are for everything he did for us,” Locke said. “He brought us together and gave us all these amazing memories and experiences.” He cocked his head. “Jokes aside, if we’re erecting any statue in the middle of camp, it better be of Pete.”
“In his wellies and tweed,” Alistair added.
Locke nodded. “With your Gran by his side.”
“I think that’s a perfect idea,” I agreed, a little choked up.
“Maybe we can unveil it at the end of the summer?” Alistair suggested.
“You’re both gonna come back for the close-of-camp celebration?” I asked, liking the sound of that. It felt like a true full-circle moment.
They both smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Locke said as a flurry of barking sounded, followed by a playful shriek and Aisling shouting, “No, Bonnie! Bad Bonnie!”
I laughed, shaking my head fondly. “Better go see what that’s all about before the damn pony causes an uprising.”
We headed up the hill together to uncover whatever horrors Bonnie had wreaked upon the cattle shed.
As we walked, I realized how grateful I was to have my two best friends by my side and a perfect little family to call my own.
But more than that, I was grateful for Grandad letting me grow up in Lochbrae and for teaching me about the wild, messy, passionate love that it needed to truly make it feel like home.
And as the cattle shed came into sight, so did Lena, already on mom duty as she headed to investigate the delighted squeals and Bonnie’s whinnies. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling when she spotted us coming up the hill.
“Hey there, husband,” she called down to me.
“Hiya, wife,” I said, my chest warming at the sound of that word. Wife. I closed the distance quickly, stepping toward my future.
“Come to help me with the chaos?” she asked.
“Always,” I said. And as she laced our hands together, I knew I’d happily spend every day of the rest of my forever making sure I deserved the messy, beautiful life we were building.