Epilogue
As it turned out, Rae could stay on the farm and maintain her love of cooking: it just took her a little while to figure out how.
She’d spent the autumn planning new things for Sweetbriar: sowing seeds to expand their varieties next year, planning seasonal events like the Scarecrow Pageant, participating in Belbarrow’s annual Autumn Festival, preparing for the Christmas Markets in December.
She’d also learned to rest. A lot. Mostly because being in love with a handsome mountaineer who found her irresistible was tiresome in the best way.
They spent their weekends in nature or else in bed, Rae taking a step back from farm work when needed, especially as Dad healed and enjoyed his independence without painful flare-ups getting in the way.
The farm shop was her second true love, though.
By winter, she stepped out into the frosted grass to see the expansion completed for the first time.
Struan, clad in his scarf and fleece coat, wrapped his arms around her, keeping her warm after she’d been too excited to remember her own coat.
A sign had been placed above the stained-glass door reading Sweetbriar Farm Shop & Eatery, with a conservatory extension where customers could enjoy Rae’s lunches while overlooking the view of the fields.
With any luck, the farm would bring in visitors all year round, alleviating some of the pressure over the summer months.
She’d never realised how nerve-wracking it must have been for her dad and gran, so limited by the changing seasons, but she planned to make it easier on them by focusing on new ventures.
Come January, construction would start on a large greenhouse to keep production up year-round, and she couldn’t wait to start planting new crops – chillies, rhubarb, herbs, as well as new varieties of the delicious fruits Sweetbriar was famous for.
Her notebook was already brimming with recipe ideas.
The eatery was no Michelin-star restaurant, but she’d have an entire kitchen to herself, and she was certain that witnessing the patrons enjoying her homemade meals and baked goods would feel far more rewarding than the disconnected mayhem of her old kitchens.
She wasn’t just an anonymous saucier, flustered in a clinically modern kitchen.
She was part of the community, contributing to enjoyment and happy memories.
There would be no fancy, minimalist décor: this would be a rustic, homely, pet-friendly space where people could sit for hours with sweet treats and quiet chatter.
The escape Rae had always needed, now shared in the hopes others would find the same peace.
‘I wish we could open it now,’ she complained.
Struan chuckled. ‘You have all the time in the world. Come spring, the place’ll be packed.’
She hummed, turning in his arms to face him.
He wrapped his tartan scarf around her, though her cream cable knit jumper was thick and cosy.
Since they had a long drive ahead of them, she’d dressed for comfort.
Haru had invited her to visit down in London, booking the two of them a table at Calypso for tomorrow evening so she could see his achievements for herself.
Though Rae didn’t regret her shift from big restaurants, she was eager to introduce Struan to the artistry of fine dining.
She’d witnessed so many people delight in a new cuisine for the first time, and just knew Struan would love the fusion of flavours after so many evenings of him enthusiastically complimenting the experimental dinners she cooked.
It was one of her favourite ways to show him just how much he meant to her: greeting him with a hot plate she’d poured hours into when he’d spent a long day in the mountains.
After a rescue operation, when he was so exhausted he could barely stand, a hearty dinner was the best way she knew how to take care of him.
Well, second best.
‘I brought your suitcase down,’ he said. ‘Ready when you are.’
‘I need to go through my checklist one more time.’ She dashed inside for her notepad, Struan’s chuckles following her as she unzipped her suitcase in the hallway.
The part of her that needed order and predictability hadn’t gone away, but with therapy, she was discovering ways to manage before the anxiety turned to a breakdown.
She cried when she wanted to, now. Struan let her. She let herself.
Soon, they were bidding Dad, Myra, and Gran goodbye, the golden Highlands fading into the distance as they embarked on one of many adventures together.
Struan had never been built for cities, but he’d admit it was thrilling to steal Rae away from Belbarrow for a couple of nights.
She was the most vibrant – and delicious – part of Calypso, clad in a gorgeous wine-red dress, her dark hair curling over one shoulder.
She’d lit up as soon as they’d stepped into the lively restaurant, pointing out her favourite details, like the Sakura tree they currently sat under, and the water feature providing a serene trickle across one wall.
He loved to see her rediscovering that version of herself, but he couldn’t pretend that it didn’t leave him feeling a smidge insecure.
He might have put on a nice shirt and tailored trousers, the first pair he’d owned since his high school prom, but he didn’t blend in with the other diners, who sported expensive haircuts and made sophisticated conversation revolving around wine tasting and weekend trips to the South of France.
What if she discovered she missed this life enough to want to go back to it?
What if there was no place for him here?
The first course came, jerk salmon sushi with pineapple-infused soy sauce. The chopsticks frightened him. It must have been obvious, because Rae giggled as he fiddled with them, lightly rearranging his fingers over the sleek wood.
‘I don’t suppose people eat with their fingers here,’ he muttered.
‘I won’t judge if you do.’ Her foot nudged his calf under the table, giving him ideas of other things he’d like to be doing with his fingers when they got back to the hotel later. He tried to follow her lead, dropping fish and rice all over himself before he pushed the roll into his mouth.
His brows lifted. All right, it was almost worth the labour.
Rae made a guttural groan of pleasure as she ate her own, sending a spark from his shoulders down to his cock.
‘You’d never expect tropical flavours to go this well with Asian spices, but the citrus complements the heat perfectly.
You know, the acid from the lemon juice actually changes the protein of salmon, so it cures the fish without having to cook it. ’
It went a little over his head, but he nodded along like he understood.
He’d listen to her talk about anything and everything.
His chopsticks went slack in his hands as he watched her take another bite, eyes fluttering closed.
‘Haru always did make the best food. I sometimes got a wee bit jealous about just how great he is with flavours. It took me years to learn things he seemed to know naturally.’
‘Do you miss it?’ Struan blurted, licking the salt from his lips. It only occurred to him afterwards that he was probably supposed to use the intricately folded napkin, and he put it on his lap like posh people did in movies.
Rae’s chin tipped in deliberation before her attention slipped to the open kitchen behind, where chefs fried fish in front of eager patrons.
He could imagine her in there, if she wanted, impressing diners, talking flavours, dancing over the tiles with ease.
It added weight to the box in his pocket.
His plan to give it to her tonight depended on her answer.
He didn’t want to rush into this if she might disappear again.
She leaned her head against her palm, red lips curling softly as she reached for his hand.
‘I miss how it made me feel, back in the early days. I was so independent… but it cost me so much. I wouldn’t trade this new chapter for anything.
The eatery might not be fancy, and it might not attract customers from all over the globe, but it will be mine.
I think I’ve finally realised it’s okay to want different things at different times in your life. ’
Her sparkling eyes on him made him feel weak.
He offered a wobbly smile, tugging at his collar against the oppressive heat of the grills behind. He supposed that settled it, then.
‘Why?’ Rae’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘You look worried.’
‘I am a bit worried. For my digestive system,’ he brushed off. ‘Spicy.’
She cast him that firm, inescapable look that meant stop joking and talk to me properly.
So, he did. ‘Just making sure you don’t have any regrets. I wouldn’t hold you back if you wanted to try again. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say so.’
‘I’m not going to leave you for a life of stress-induced stomach ulcers. If I ever did want to go back to fine dining, I’d stay in Scotland. Nobody understood my accent anywhere else anyway. Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?’
He snorted, drawing circles into her clammy palm. ‘You’ve seen through my cunning plan.’
She chewed on her lip like maybe she wasn’t sure.
He leaned closer. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I want to keep you forever. I’m just saying that if you wanted to go back—’
‘I’ve been everywhere, Struan. There’s nowhere else I want to be but Belbarrow, with you. Though, if you wanted more city breaks, I wouldn’t say no to those, either.’
It set his mind at rest, and he relaxed into his chair, no longer caring if his posture and mannerisms set him apart from the other diners. Since the opportunity had arisen, he quietly asked, ‘Would you say no to marrying me?’
Surprise drew her back. ‘What?’
He didn’t dare pull out the ring, sure there was nothing less romantic than making a spectacle of the proposal.
He’d do this in a way that was theirs, no serenading, no getting down on one knee, no pressure to say yes.
He’d learned the hard way that he was no good at grand gestures, anyway, and Rae had all but proven she loved him as he was, not as who he wished he could be for her.
‘There’s a ring in my pocket,’ he admitted.
‘Not a very fancy one, so don’t get your hopes up.
But I love you, Rae. I love how bright you shine.
I love how you talk about food like it’s something magic.
I love how sexy you look in that dress.’ She blushed.
He smirked. ‘I want to be your husband. So, when you’re ready, I’m ready.
In fact, I’ve been ready for a while now. ’
‘Struan…’
He waited, eyes prickling, stomach churning. Maybe this wasn’t romantic enough. Maybe she deserved more. Maybe she did want him down on one knee for everyone to see. Maybe—
‘I’m ready,’ she said.
He blinked, a shiver rolling through him. ‘Aye?’
A tear rolled down her cheek as she nodded, sidling her chair closer to him. The Sakura blossoms framed her in soft pinks, and he knew, like he’d always known, that this was right.
He pulled out the jewellery box, revealing the dainty silver engagement ring that Martha had helped him pick out, patterned with Celtic flows that reminded him of Foxglove Falls, still their favourite place to escape to.
A ruby gleamed like an overripe berry at the centre, winking as it caught the light.
‘It’s perfect,’ Rae breathed, offering her left hand.
He slid the ring on, his heart singing, swelling, bursting. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever got this lucky. Once on her finger, he kissed the delicate band, then chuckled, swiping the tears from her cheek to kiss her. She melded with him, like she always had.
His.
She nuzzled into his neck, surely getting makeup on his shirt. He was glad. She’d left far more permanent marks on him, and he would never want to erase them.
‘I love you so much,’ she uttered against his throat.
Their fingers intertwined, as closely melded as the twists of silver on the engagement ring. ‘I should have done this after dessert,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to sit through four more courses without devouring you.’
She guided his hand under the table to rest on her thighs, which parted under his touch to better reveal the delicate, satiny skin beneath the ruffles of her dress. ‘I could offer you an appetiser from my secret menu, if you’d like.’
A hungry growl vibrated from him as he replied, ‘Yes, chef.’