Chapter 20
The day was scorching by the time Struan dropped Rae off at the farm just after nine.
She headed straight for the medicine cupboard once she got inside, a steady pounding behind her eyes.
She’d noticed Myra already in the farm shop and hadn’t dared go in, which left her without anything to keep her busy until weekend customers arrived. Cold shower it is.
She hoped she’d avoided her dad altogether until, halfway up the stairs, she heard him summon her. She stopped, taking a breath before she turned to find him leaning against the banister, expression as frosty as it had been yesterday.
‘We need to talk. Now.’
‘Are you sure? I’m really quite enjoying avoiding conversation at the moment.’
There came the beckoning finger. She sighed and returned to the kitchen with him, picking up Roderick when he prowled across the dining table to her.
She didn’t dare meet Dad’s eye as he sat on the chair opposite, instead running her fingers through Roderick’s fur until he purred.
At least someone in this house still tolerated her.
She was surprised when Dad’s first question was, ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m okay,’ she said stiffly. ‘Are you okay?’
He grunted. ‘Struan told me that you spent the night at his place. You can’t just go wandering off like that in the state you were in, Rae. I was bloody worried.’
‘I wasn’t in a state. I was just a bit tipsy,’ she lied.
When he remained unconvinced, she decided it best to be honest. ‘I didn’t know where to go.
I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you were doing with Myra, which I’m in full support of, by the way.
Not that you need my blessing, obviously.
If it was anything to do with me, you would have told me, but you didn’t.
’ A nervous laugh broke through her rambling.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say.
He’d made it clear that her input here was no longer welcome.
In fact, she didn’t even know if she was welcome.
‘The thing is, if you didn’t want me here, I wish you would’ve said so.
I feel a bit stupid, now. I think I just assumed this would always be my home.
I didn’t realise how entitled that seemed. I just…’
She nestled her face into Roderick’s fur. He mewed in protest, jumping off her lap so she no longer had anything to hide behind. The end of her sentence never came.
Dad steepled his fingers as harsh lines of discontent sank into his face. ‘I was trying to come to terms with closing the farm, and then you came back like a bloody tornado, determined to change everything.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘You can’t make plans for a place you won’t be here to take care of come autumn, Rae. It’s not how it works. And frankly, I don’t need you feeling like you have to stay for my sake, because I’ve played that game with your mother, and we all ended up miserable.’
‘It hurts when you compare me to her.’ A defensive edge serrated her voice, focus glued to the woven placemat.
‘Just because I went away, it didn’t mean I stopped loving the farm – or this family.
If we can’t have this conversation without you throwing what she did in my face, I don’t think I can talk about it at all. ’
She stood up, so close to falling apart.
‘Okay, darling,’ He held up his hands – a gesture of truce. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to upset you.’ He rubbed his eyes frustratedly. ‘I’ve tried so hard to be supportive of your career, but it takes you so far away from me.’
‘I know. And I don’t want it to anymore.
I want to be closer.’ She didn’t tell him the truth, that she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to go back to a restaurant.
That the thought of a new job made her so nauseous she couldn’t eat or sleep or breathe.
That the career she’d always dreamed of was no longer what she wanted. ‘Do you want to give up the farm, Dad?’
He considered it, leaning back in his chair. ‘Sometimes I think it would be so much easier. I just don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to keep it running.’
‘But do you want to? Regardless of health and money and all that, do you want to do something else instead?’
‘No. Course not. This is all I’ve ever known, and giving it up will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do.’
‘Then please, just let me try. I promise I won’t make a mess and leave you to clean it up.
’ She looked around at the ornaments she used to polish as a child, some of them almost a century old.
At the photographs and the same wallpaper she remembered Dad pasting on when she was barely old enough to hold a paintbrush herself.
At the scratches in the wooden legs of the dining table where Granddad’s first cat used to beg for scraps.
‘This is the only stable place I know, and I don’t want to lose it.
Please. If you want to do it a different way, we will, but we need something to see if we can keep the farm going, or at least to remind people it’s here. ’
He softened, squeezing her hand gently. ‘If you think you can handle a wedding, we can try.’
‘Really?’
A nod. ‘I talked to Myra last night about it. She’s very smart, that lass. Told me you’re talented, independent, and capable of anything. I shouldn’t get so angry at you for proving it.’
She blinked. Dad didn’t do apologies very often, especially not after an argument. He might not have said the words, but he’d admitted his way wasn’t the only way. ‘Well, then, we should all listen to Myra.’
He smiled. ‘Should we… er, talk about that?’
‘Nope. Let’s not. Not now, at least.’ She took the awkward atmosphere as her cue to leave.
The future of the farm was enough to think about right now – without having to wrap her head around her dad’s relationship status.
Besides, she hardly had a right to question him when she had gotten into a little kissing situation of her own again this morning.
Her pulse quickened at the thought of tonight: spending more time with Struan without having to ignore the chemistry between them.
Yes, she definitely needed a cold shower.
The weather only grew more suffocating as the day wore on, but there was little time to notice it as more and more visitors swarmed through the farm to pick their own berries and browse the shop’s ever-growing range of Sweetbriar produce.
Since Dad’s ankle was still sore, he took care of customers at the entrance while Rae guided pickers around the fields, showing them which fruits were ripe and teaching some of the more curious children everything she knew about growing and harvesting.
She was surprised how much of the knowledge returned, despite not having needed it in so long.
She was showing a trio of hungry teenagers to the farm shop when Struan arrived with his group of tourists in tow.
Most of them were older than him, all of them pink as lobsters.
He cast her a wave immediately, face shaded by a navy cap that shouldn’t have made her toes curl, but the sight of his honey-blond hair snaking around his jaw and of his jacket tied around his middle made her mouth run dry.
He’d been so kind to her last night. She wasn’t sure she’d deserved it – and yet he’d known exactly the right things to say and do, right down to the way he’d slathered butter across her toast while it was still hot enough to melt.
He was perfect. So perfect, it frightened her. He could pull the rug out from under her and watch her fall, or he could catch her, and she didn’t know which was worse. Which would be easier to tell Martha about when the time came?
She grabbed a pile of harvesting baskets for the hikers and made her way over, shins rubbing against her wellies. ‘Welcome to Sweetbriar! How has your tour been today?’
‘Hot,’ one man complained.
Struan took off his cap to fan his red face, wafting the fragrance of coconut sun lotion. ‘Aye, you can say that again.’
‘Well, feel free to relax. I’ll grab you all something cool to drink.
’ She passed around the baskets and headed towards the house, not realising Struan had followed until she turned around, hoping to sneak another glance of him with his T-shirt pasted to his broad shoulders, only to find him inches away.
‘Looks like you’re getting the farm back on its feet after all.’
‘I wish it could have gotten back on its feet on a cooler day,’ she complained.
They dipped into the house, the corridor’s draught cloaking Rae’s sticky skin for one blissful second before they reached the kitchen.
She was prepared for keeping the customers cool today, fridge filled with pitchers of water and Gran’s hand-made strawberry lemonade.
She pulled out one of each, along with plenty of glasses to place on a serving tray.
Struan watched, lazing against the counter with bright eyes. His thumb trailed over the bridge of her nose. ‘You’re getting sunburn.’
‘I think most people are.’
‘You should be wearing a hat, at least.’
‘I lived in Australia for a year. I can survive.’
He glanced around before grazing his knuckle down her arm, drinking in her red and white gingham dress.
‘Do you have any idea what these skirts and sundresses of yours are doing to me?’ Her heart battered against her ribs when he lowered his hand to creep under the hem, which brushed the top of her knee.
‘When I’m in bed tonight, I’ll be thinking about this.
About how easy it would have been to just—’
She pushed his hand away before it could slip between her legs, blushing. ‘Not now.’
‘Later, then?’ He grinned wickedly. ‘We could find some shade in the orchard, again. Take a wee dip in the river.’
Just the thought had her tingling, that pulse between her legs more intense somehow, with the heat clinging to her skin.
‘Or I could take you somewhere else,’ he continued, squeezing her hips gently as his mouth dipped to her neck. ‘Somewhere we can cool down together. Somewhere nobody will hear you moan.’
‘Do these lines usually work?’
He stopped, fixing her a playful glower. ‘What do you mean, “usually”? I can see your blush.’
‘That’s because it’s thirty degrees outside.’
‘Hm. So I wouldn’t find you wet, then, if I just…
’ His fingers slipped against her underwear, a sharp gasp falling from her as he pressed the cotton between her folds.
She should have been embarrassed when he chuckled, no doubt feeling the arousal spreading fast through the fabric, but all she could do was arch as a delicious spark roiled through her.
‘You’re starting to become a little less convincing, sweetheart. ’
She didn’t think before driving her palm into his groin, where his erection strained against the seam of his shorts.
His lids fluttered, lips parting, and God, she loved how much he wanted her.
How easy it was to prove it. With him she didn’t require all that experience she’d spent her entire adult life worrying about.
She just needed to listen to her body, and his.
But first, she wanted to make him ache the way she currently did, so she drew away to take the tray. ‘Come on. We can’t keep your group waiting.’
She bit down on a laugh when his pained grumble followed her all the way out of the house.