“I see you did your research before arriving.” He beckoned with his fingers, and she passed over her phone reluctantly. “I know the place better than you.”
Fraser searched for accommodations near Loch Teàrlag, but it was as he’d suspected: most of the lodgings around the forest were rented through Airbnb. He changed the location to Belbarrow. Flockhart’s appeared, but of course, it was closed.
There was a rental about six miles south, which would mean she’d be too far out to visit town without a steep taxi fare, and the view provided nothing but the grey road trailing towards the uneven landscape of the Highlands, where he doubted she would enjoy hiking. There really was nothing. Nothing, at least, that was in line with his morals.
He passed the phone back, mouth downturned. “I think we could do with another hotel out here. The choices are grim.”
“Nothing at all?”
He shook his head. “Sorry.”
She still scrolled for several more minutes, leg jittering under the table and causing his beer to slosh against his glass. “I can’t afford to waste money on transport just to have the same problem in another town.”
Her shoulders slumped, eyes flickering shut in dismay. Then she suddenly swayed forwards and shot him an intense look that was far too conspiratorial for his liking.
His stomach did that same irritating lurch, as though it was impossible not to react to her. He clenched his teeth. Said, “Whatever idea you have, the answer is no.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”
“I don’t need to. In the last eighteen hours, you’ve kicked me out of my own cabin, ruined one of my oak trees, and crushed my saplings. I can’t take any more of your particular brand of chaos.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t claim that tree. It was on the other side of your fence. The leaves were going to fall off soon anyway. I did them a favour, helping them down. Please. This could be mutually beneficial.”
More stirring, this time lower than his belly. “I doubt that.”
“You said yourself you only use the cabin for work! I could write by the loch, or here in town, while you hack at wood all day, and then come back in the evenings when you’re gone!”
“No.” The idea of his space not being his for anywhere up to three months pained him, made his skin itch with discomfort. He needed that time, that peace, and just knowing it would be disrupted by a woman who didn’t know the meaning of the word would make every day that much harder.
She clasped her hands together in a plea. “I’ll pay you handsomely. It would be like a second income.”
“No.” Despite his stubborn response, he tilted his head. Itwouldbe like a second income. Christmas was coming, and he could use the extra pocket money.His family seemed to be growing constantly, both of his sisters now mothers. He couldn’t remember a winter where they hadn’t struggled. Wouldn’t it be nice to have an easier, more comfortable end to the year?
But at what cost? He loved his cabin. He loved his solitude.
“Fine.” Harper opened what appeared to be a train ticket app, glumly, perhaps searching for a one-way journey back to Manchester.
“Why don’t you just look for a place in Glasgow or Edinburgh?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Why does it have to be here?”
She shrugged. “I needed a radical change from the city.”
“A radical one, eh?”
“Yup.” She avoided his gaze, her flat tone suggesting she didn’t plan to elaborate.
He raised his brow, wondering what, exactly, had spurred such a desperate craving for a new life. A new career. New surroundings. What was she running from, exactly?
“There are other villages in Scotland. You can still have that break if you want it.” He didn’t have the heart to add that most of the other nearby towns were more expensive to stay in as they attracted double the tourists. Belbarrow was usually labelled a “hidden gem”.
But Harper shook her head slowly. “I think I’ve had enough of this break, to be honest. I don’t think I could handle another thing going wrong. Better to just be done with it.” And she sounded like she believed it, detachment turning her voice steely and defeat pushing down her posture.
It didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t like the thought of her leaving like this, especially if it was because of his refusal to help her.He sucked air through his gritted teeth, considering his options. He could let her leave, and then lament his decision for a month. Which would mean saying goodbye now. Turning down a decent amount of money that wouldn’t just help him, but his family.
He’d be another name on a long list of people who’d disappointed her.
It wasn’t in his nature. If it was his sister, his mum, he’d want a stranger to help them out.
Jesus Christ, he was really doing this.
