7. Chapter 7
I felt a shift as soon as we crossed the bridge. The kind of thing that makes you understand, viscerally, why people up here invented so many stories about mythical islands, wee beasties, and the Good Folk.
Skye was more epic and beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.
Our car hugged the curves of narrow roads where sheep dotted the landscape, and it wasn’t long before the Old Man of Storr, that ancient stone sentinel I’d only seen in photographs—and countless movies, of course—appeared on the distant horizon.
“We’ve got to get some pictures here!” said Angus as he pulled the car to the side of the road.
I held the car door as a shield while Caitlin expertly wriggled back into the wedding dress.
“Looks muddy,” said Caitlin as she slipped her feet into her purple combat boots, which looked beyond adorable with the gown. “I don’t want to mess up that nice woman’s dress.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll help you hold it up,” I offered.
Angus slipped on his own boots with his kilt, and we started hiking up the steep hill into the mist.
It was a rugged, steep climb, but somehow Caitlin managed to climb with grace, even with me holding the bottom of the dress carefully with each step.
Angus took a deep breath and savored it. “Beauty of a day for hillwalking.”
We continued upward, looking down at the rolling green hills and the water below.
I was glad I’d bought rainy-weather hiking boots. The path was uneven and steep, slick from recent rain, and the mist wasn’t helping.
I tried not to think about Max.
The higher we climbed, the more the world unfurled. Rolling hills melting into the horizon, those strange stone formations rising like ancient castles from a fairy tale, and the entirety of Skye spread out below us. I half expected to see a film crew capturing it all.
The happy couple looked epic in their wedding finery and mud-caked boots.
I found myself reverting into director mode.
“Hold hands. Now look back.” Click. The wind caught Caitlin’s tartan sash, making it ripple like a fairy flag, and Angus’s hair danced wild against the towering silhouette of the Old Man of Storr.
They summited together, his arm around her waist, and I snapped picture after picture as the mist crept over the rolling green hills and the scene transformed into something out of a BBC historical drama.
The mist thickened around us, swallowing the hills, until we could barely see ten feet ahead. We scrambled down the hillside, our boots slipping on wet grass, and tumbled into the car just as big, fat raindrops began hammering against the metal roof.
“Perfect timing,” I laughed, breathless from our descent. I held up my phone, flicking through the images I’d captured. “Worth every muddy step though.”
Caitlin leaned over to have a look. “Wow, you clean up pretty good, Angus!”
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he replied and kissed her forehead. Angus glanced down at his mud-spattered kilt. “Time to track down our lodgings and change into something less ceremonial, aye?”
Rain hammered on the windshield as Angus pulled the car up to the inn.
Caitlin pressed her face to the window. A white inn sat on the water’s edge, gardens just visible through the rain, and even from inside the car, I could smell the peat smoke.
“This is perfect!” said Caitlin.
“This car park is full of film trucks,” said Angus.
“But you made a reservation, right, Angus?” asked Caitlin.
Angus froze. “You said you were going to make it, right?”
“I got caught up in the whole dress thing…”
“I’ll pop inside and see what’s up,” I said, pulling the hood of my raincoat over me and grabbing an umbrella.
I darted through the downpour, skipping over giant puddles that had formed in the parking lot, and finally made it to the shelter of the entrance.
Inside the inn, a fire crackled, its light dancing across amber-hued wood panels while the scent of peat smoke hung in the air. As I pulled down my hood, a somewhat skeptical receptionist greeted me. “How can I help you?”
“Reservation for two rooms under the name of Caitlin Montgomery.”
The receptionist typed into the computer.
“One room for Caitlin Montgomery. Yes. It’s upstairs, room 217.”
“Um. That was supposed to be two rooms. There are three of us.”
The receptionist frowned. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid we only have confirmation and payment for one room.”
Okaaaaayyy.
“But there are three of us,” I repeated.
“Would you like a roll-away bed?”
I cringed slightly. “They’re newlyweds.” I mean, it was close enough.
A look of understanding crossed her face. “Ah. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
I turned and started to walk out when the receptionist called to me.
“Lass, hold on. Don’t give up so easily.”
I turned back to her. She smiled kindly. “I said I can’t help you. That doesn’t mean no one can. I can share that a good friend of mine has rented out his home. However, the renter has been away traveling and will likely be gone for a while. I bet you could sublet from him and have a lovely stay.”
“That would be wonderful!”
“I’ll ring him and find out the details. In the meantime, please let the newlyweds know their room is ready.”
I pulled my hood up and braved the cold sheets of rain to tap on the car window. Through the rain-streaked glass I could make out Caitlin and Angus belting out some tune, their heads thrown back in laughter. Something tightened in my chest watching them.
I would do my damndest to make sure their wedding went off without a hitch. The irony of that word was not lost on me.
Caitlin rolled down the window. “Are we screwed?”
I shook my head. “Nice cozy place, and they have your room ready.”
“What about your room?”
I offered her a tight smile. “They’re working on it. C’mon, let’s get you settled.”
Caitlin struggled with her billowing white dress, trying to keep it from dragging through puddles while wrestling with her raincoat.
I grabbed the train of fabric, bundling it against my chest as we hurried inside.
Angus followed with the suitcases. The receptionist caught my eye with the phone receiver pressed to her ear, gesturing toward a hallway as she handed Angus a brass key.
Moments later, she set the phone down with a triumphant click and turned to me with a conspiratorial smile.
“It’s your lucky day! The owner says the place is still empty, and he will rent it to you until the current renter contacts him about their return.
So it’s a little touch-and-go, but it’s a lovely home.
I think it’ll be a win-win for all of you.
And it’ll save that poor lad the rental fees he’s throwing away. ”
Relief crashed over me. “Thank you so much!”
“Here’s the address. Do you have GPS? Or I can give you my back-handed, drive up the hill until you see the sheep…”
“I have a GPS,” I said.
“That’s probably the best way. You’ll find it just on the other side of the loch, with lovely views of the loch and Portree. And he’s stocked the fridge with some goodies to get you started on your stay.”
“How lovely! Thank you again!”
“Enjoy!”
I was halfway to the door when I remembered I didn’t have a car. Stranded in the rain, I pulled out my phone to search for local taxis when Angus appeared at my elbow.
“Where are your things?” he asked, glancing around. “Still in the car?”
“There’s been a slight change of plans,” I said, trying to sound casual. “They only had the one room for you lovebirds. But don’t worry—the receptionist found me this amazing rental house across the loch. I just need to figure out how to get there.”
Angus jingled his car keys. “Not a chance I’m letting you sort that out alone.”
We followed the GPS and found ourselves on the other side of the loch with a view of Portree’s colorful houses.
The home was more than I could have hoped for.
Honey-colored planks stretched across the floor, warmed by afternoon light filtering through skylights.
A stone fireplace anchored one wall, flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
A spacious white kitchen with copper and wood accents.
Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a loft that overlooked the living room via a spiral staircase.
“This is amazing! Maybe you guys would rather stay here, too?”
“We’ll be comfortable in the hotel,” said Angus.
“But this place is so big!” I looked around in awe.
“Didn’t you say the receptionist said it might not be available long? Enjoy it while you’ve got it, and we’ll be on the lookout for your next room. Go ahead and unpack, have a rest, and we’ll call you for dinner.”
“I can just stay here. No need to trek back out in this weather.”
“Wheesht. We’ll meet you for a bit to eat, and I’ll introduce you to Skye Red.”
I stared at him blankly. “Old college friend?” I asked.
He threw back his head and laughed. “It’s a local beer you’ll love. Talk soon!” Angus hugged me and drove off.
Steam billowed around me as I stepped from the shower, wrapping myself in one of those impossibly thick towels that only seem to exist in other people’s bathrooms. My limbs felt heavy as I tugged on my worn jeans and slipped a linen shirt over my head.
The journey had taken more out of me than I’d realized.
I put on my fuzzy slippers and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. There I found a baguette, cheeses, fruit, oatcakes, shortbread, and several bottles of wine and Skye ale. I wondered how long the place had been vacant, because the white wine was cold and the bread was fresh.
I put together a plate of cheese, fruit, and oatcakes then found a spot on the couch by a window overlooking the loch.
I munched a little, watching the people on the other side of Portree walking along the water like tiny birds. My plan was to read a book, but I must have dozed off.
Keys jangled in the lock, startling me awake. I clutched the blanket to my chest as the door swung open and a man rolled his suitcase across the threshold. The wheels caught on the rug.
“Excuse me,” I called out, my voice still thick with sleep. “You’ve got the wrong place!”