Chapter 30 #2
Ragnar tilts his head and watches me with what looks suspiciously like patient condescension.
“You are mocking me.”
He bleats.
I genuinely cannot think of a solution.
I’m still standing there glaring at my car.
Ragnar is still lying in front of the hood.
Hamish has settled nearby like an especially invested referee.
“Ragnar, please.”
Nothing.
“I’m begging you.”
The sheep closes his eyes.
I let out a long exhausted sigh that blows loose strands of hair across my face.
“I give up.”
I turn around and march back toward the castle determined to find someone capable of moving this psychotic sheep.
I find Fergus in the kitchen helping Mrs. Finley.
“Fergus! I need help. Ragnar is blocking my car and refusing to move.”
Fergus glances out the window.
“Ah. Yes. Ragnar does that sometimes.”
“You can move him, right?”
“I can try.”
Five minutes later, Fergus, Cameron, Connor, and I are all outside trying to negotiate with one stubborn sheep.
“Come on now, old boy,” Fergus says gently. “Let the lady leave.”
Ragnar opens one eye.
Then closes it again.
“We could lift him?” Cameron suggests.
“He weighs at least a hundred pounds,” Connor points out. “And he bites.”
“I’ve got gloves,” Fergus offers bravely.
They try anyway.
All three men attempt to lift Ragnar.
The sheep growls in a way that could intimidate a bear.
They immediately give up.
“Sorry, Mary,” Fergus says rubbing his arm. “He’s not budging.”
I check my watch.
Nine fifteen.
“I’m going to be late.”
“Call them,” Cameron suggests. “Explain the situation.”
“What exactly am I supposed to say? Sorry, I’m late because of a sheep?”
“That is technically accurate,” Connor says helpfully.
I pull out my phone and call the Perthshire clinic.
“Highland Care Veterinary Clinic, how may I help you?”
“Hi, this is Mary McGregor. I have a ten o’clock interview scheduled with Dr. Paine, but I’m going to be slightly delayed. Maybe thirty minutes?”
“Oh, that’s absolutely fine! Dr. Paine will understand. We’ll see you soon!”
I hang up and glare at Ragnar.
The sheep stares calmly back.
“You happy now? Move.”
Ragnar rises slowly.
As though carefully considering every movement.
Then he steps aside from the car and settles onto the grass nearby.
“Finally,” Connor groans dramatically.
I wave quickly at Fergus and the twins, climb into my car without another word, and drive away.
In the rearview mirror, I catch sight of Hamish and Ragnar sitting side by side watching me leave.
Even from this distance, they somehow look sad.
Don’t think about them.
Don’t think about Finn.
Focus on the interview.
I drive too fast.
The road winds through the Highlands offering breathtaking views I barely register.
All I can think about is Ragnar constantly rejecting me.
Ignoring me.
Always choosing Finn.
And this morning, he tried to stop me from leaving.
I need to stop thinking about this.
Ragnar is just a weird sheep.
I arrive at the Perthshire clinic ten minutes late.
The building is modern, bright, exactly what you’d expect from a high-quality veterinary practice.
Dr. Paine greets me warmly.
Mid-fifties.
Gray hair.
Open smile.
“Hello, I’m Mary McGregor. Sorry I’m late.”
“Not a problem at all.”
“I had a… sheep-related issue.”
I frown at myself, but Dr. Paine laughs.
“I grew up in the Highlands,” he says with a wink. “The sheep run this place.”
The interview goes well.
Very well.
Dr. Paine shows me the facilities.
I meet the staff.
Everyone is friendly and competent.
“We’re looking for someone experienced,” he explains, “but also someone who understands rural life.”
He asks technical questions.
I answer confidently.
He describes a complicated case.
I offer solutions.
He smiles.
“You’re exactly what we’re looking for.”
My heart should leap with excitement.
Instead, it stays strangely still.
“The position is yours if you want it,” he says eventually. “You could start in two weeks.”
“That’s… incredibly generous.”
“So? What do you think?”
I should say yes.
This is the perfect opportunity for a fresh start far away from Glenfield.
Far away from the memories.
Far away from Finn.
“Could I have forty-eight hours to think about it?”
He nods.
“Of course. But I should warn you—we do have other candidates. If you decline, the position will go to someone else.”
“I understand.”
We shake hands.
Then I leave the clinic.
I sit in my car afterward without starting the engine.
Forty-eight hours.
Two days to decide my entire life.
The drive home happens inside a haze of emotions.
I think about the clinic.
The facilities.
The life I could build there.
I also think about Glenfield.
My clinic.
My patients.
My family.
My little cottage I’ll eventually get back someday.
And Finn.
I feel no excitement about leaving.
Only emptiness.
Which is probably a sign.
Ragnar doesn’t move when I get out of the car.
I stop in front of him.
“You won this morning. Happy now?”
The sheep rises and walks toward me before gently pressing his head against my leg.
My hand automatically sinks into his wool.
“What is going on with you?”
Ragnar bleats softly.
It almost sounds apologetic.
I kneel down in front of him.
“You okay?”
The sheep stares at me with those dark intelligent eyes.
Then Ragnar lowers his head until his forehead touches mine.
That’s when I hear movement behind me.
I turn just in time to see Hamish sprinting toward us at full speed.
He crashes directly into me with his head, knocking me flat onto my butt.
“Hamish! What are you doing?” I yelp, scrambling upright.
The sheep bleats insistently.
Ragnar stands and positions himself on my other side.
Then together, the two sheep start nudging me toward the castle steps.
I stare at them.
“You cannot be serious.”
They bleat in unison.
“You’re working together now?”
Hamish shoves me harder.
Ragnar joins in.
I resist, but it’s two determined sheep versus one exhausted veterinarian.
The odds are not in my favor.
They herd me around the side of the castle.
Toward…
The cottage.
My heartbeat instantly spikes.
“No. I can’t. I don’t want to see him.”
Hamish ignores me completely.
So does Ragnar.
The cottage is only fifty yards away now.
And through the window, I can see a silhouette moving inside.
Finn.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
The two sheep look at me.
Then at each other.
And in a moment I never thought possible, Hamish and Ragnar—eternal enemies, sworn rivals—press their foreheads together.
I stare at them in horror.
“Tell me I’m hallucinating.”
If those two can make peace…
Hamish nudges me again like he’s saying, Go.
Ragnar bleats softly.
I take a deep breath.
Then another.
And finally, I take one step toward the cottage.
Then another.
Hamish and Ragnar follow behind me like silent, deeply judgmental bodyguards.
I stop in front of the door.
My hand shakes as I lift it to knock.
But before my fist can touch the wood, the door swings open.
And Finn is standing there.