Page 32 of Highland Games
Rory didn’t move. Feeling the weight of her still on him, her thigh beneath his hand, the pounding desire filling every part of him till he thought he might burst. Straddled by legs he had only dreamed of and staring up into the anxious eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive. He may have fallen the best part of twelve feet off a ladder onto frozen ground, but he had enjoyed the experience immensely. She had been made especially adorable by her pink fluffy eye mask, the word ‘Princess’ embroidered on it, which had been perched askance in her wild curly hair.
‘What am I going to do, buddy?’ he asked Bandit. ‘She’s going to be the death of me.’
Bandit lay down, placing his head on Rory’s chest. Rory stroked him distractedly. The safest thing for his sanity was to walk away from Zoe and not look back. But he might as well try and defy gravity. He sighed. Despite all the longing, his feelings were not reciprocated. He sat, and listened to her puking her guts up in the outhouse. However good he felt, he knew she must be feeling equally terrible. He wanted to go to her, comfort her, bring her a glass of water. But that was not his place, so he got off the ground, picked up the ladder and went back to work on the roof.
He looked away when she walked back up the slope to the cabin. After ten minutes, she came out onto the porch and called up.
‘Er, hi.’
He stopped hammering and stepped down the ladder to stand in front of her. Bandit went to her side and she scratched behind his ears.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
‘Like crap. I’ve got to check a few things online so I’m popping to the library. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I expect you’ll be gone by then.’
Rory shrugged. ‘I need to take some measurements. Do you mind if I go into the cabin?’
Zoe shook her head. ‘No, do what you need to do. Just let Basil out if he wakes up and make sure he’s got enough food and water.’
‘Will do. Are you okay to drive?’
Zoe frowned. ‘Yes, I’m fine, I’ll try not to run anything over.’ She turned on her heels and strode to her truck, driving off so fast the wheels spun.
At the library,Zoe set her devices and battery packs to charge, then slumped back into her seat. What had she done? She could have killed him. She allowed herself a wry smirk. At least they were now even. Shit, she felt terrible. Her head throbbed despite the paracetamol she had taken at the cabin. Ugh. She was never going to drink again.
Whilst she waited for the water and painkillers to take effect, she flipped between chatting to Sam and Instagram. She then emailed her parents a long description of Sunday lunch at Morag’s and updated her spreadsheets to reflect what she could now get for free. She wanted to know if she could afford solar panels and a small wind turbine with enough power to give her light and a fridge. When she was up to date with everything and felt more human, she searched for the castle online.
She finally found a website which had been started in the nineties and never finished. It was a holding page with a flashing sign saying ‘our website is coming soon!’ and a tally at the bottom of the screen that showed a grand total of four hundred and sixty-three visitors to the page since it was built.
Zoe tried to find mentions of the castle as a tourist attraction on other websites but could only find one, which described it as ‘worth a visit if you want to make sure you’ve visited every castle in Scotland, but you’ll be lucky to find it open’. There was no social media presence at all.
She sighed. At least she knew the size of the mountain she had to climb. Land rents were static and couldn’t be increased enough, and there was a limit to how much wood they could sell. There had been a recent cash injection from a property sale, but it didn’t make a dent in their position. The estate was losing money and had no way of repaying the loans they had taken out. Not unless they changed their business model and hopefully made a profit. The only way to generate new income was through tourism. She couldn’t remember much about the castle other than it was dark and grim. She’d need another visit to know what she was dealing with.
She packed her bag back up, left the library and went to the main castle entrance. It had a faded and peeling sign outside announcing it was closed, so she walked around the exterior, taking photos, then sat in her truck, uploading them to Instagram with as many Scottish themed hashtags as she could think up. Her tummy rumbled loudly, reminding her she hadn’t even had breakfast yet. She glanced at her watch. Twelve-thirty. Good. It meant Rory would be long gone by the time she got back. She couldn’t face him again until she’d had time to recover from the embarrassment of the morning. He didn’t much like her at her best, and this morning she’d gifted him with her at her worst.
She drovedown the track to the cabin, rounded the final bend, and saw with a sinking heart he was still there. She checked her appearance in the mirror, pinched her cheeks to get some colour into them and got out. He wasn’t on the roof and the new shingles were all in place.Jeez, he works fast.
She pushed the door open and saw him in front of the Rayburn boiling the kettle. He moved stiffly as if he had injured himself. Had he fallen off the roof again? Maybe he hadn’t realised how hurt he was from the morning?
‘Hi, I’m back. Are you okay?’
He moved slowly around, and she saw with delight that Basil was perched on his shoulder playing with his hair.
‘He forgives you!’
‘He doesn’t want to come down. I can’t do anything with him up here.’
Zoe disentangled Basil and gave him a kiss. ‘You gorgeous little rat! Come to Mummy and leave the big man to do his work.’ She glanced around. ‘Where’s Bandit?’
‘He’s sleeping in the truck. I didn’t want to risk him meeting Basil without you here.’ The kettle came to the boil and he made Zoe a mug of tea. ‘Milk?’
Zoe shook her head. ‘Until I get a fridge, it’s a no. How did you get on?’
Rory gave her the mug, and their fingers briefly touched. A shock went through Zoe’s hand and she snatched the mug from him. Rory turned away. ‘Good. The roof will do you till next year, although I’d like to batten in sheep’s wool for extra insulation. I’ve taken measurements for the door and windows and I’ve made a plan for the bathroom and kitchen, although I need to go through it with you first.’
‘Can you show me now?’
He brought an envelope out of his pocket where he had sketched out the floor plan of the cabin. He’d drawn a bathroom in the far right-hand corner, and a kitchen running down the rest of the right side around the Rayburn.
