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Chapter
Nineteen
Arran willed himself to startpainting, but then he set down the brush with a sigh, folding his arms and staring into the distance. He hadn’t been able to concentrate since returning home from the sten weekend for worrying about Liv. Every time he messaged her, she said she was fine, glossing over everything. He was desperate to see her in person because he knew he’d be able to read her better face-to-face.
But she had been busy with work, and his painting workload had steadied so he hadn’t needed any weekend help with Jayce. Not that he’d feel right asking Liv at the moment anyway; she needed his support—not to be in his service.
Standing abruptly, he decided he needed some fresh Highland air.
He left the studio, getting on his fur-lined leather jacket and trainers and heading out into the late afternoon sun to his car.
When he parked at the Tavern pub and exited the vehicle, the crispness of the spring air that little bit higher in the hills seemed to cleanse his mind. He struck out for the tree line, heading through the woodland path that led out to a clearing and across thefield. He stopped at the point where the field was fenced, beyond which the grass gave way to a rocky descent into the valley.
Leaning on the fence, he looked out over blue skies dotted with little puffs of white cloud. The gray, still snow-topped peaks of the Glenavie Mountains jutted into the blue, then dipped down into the green valley below. On impulse, he took out his phone and snapped a photo.
He’d painted this view before, as a night scene. Sam had taken the picture for him and it had turned out to be one of Sam and Maya’s favorite stargazing spots.
He glanced at the lush green of the grass, and Liv’s eyes came to mind. But thinking about them brought a tinge of pain and frustration—at himself for failing to help her. Especially when she had never failed to come through for him in the past.
Something nudged his arm, and he came out of his thoughts to see a cute Highland cow giving him a curious look through its long, shaggy brown hair as it stood beside him at the fencing.
“Hey, pal,” he said, giving the creature a gentle rub behind the ear.
Someone wolf whistled behind him, and when he turned, Sam was there, flashing him a grin. “You look like you’re posing for a catalog. Fur-lined leather, gazing ponderously into the valley while leaning on a fence.”
Arran managed a laugh.
Sam joined him at the fence, glancing at the cow. “And you’ve got a new friend too.”
The cow moved its gaze onto Sam, then turned its back on them and shuffled off.
Arran shot Sam a look. “I don’t think he likes you.”
Sam stuck out his bottom lip. “How dare he. I’m fucking delightful.”
“Dunno about that,” Arran muttered with a smile.
Sam gave his arm a gentle shove, then leaned on the wooden perimeter next to him.
Arran eyed him. “Now it’s a double catalog pose.”
Sam furrowed his brow, leaning his bearded chin on his thumb and index finger as he adopted a rather good catalog pose. Arran snorted, shifting his phone to snap a shot of him. “That’s going right onto my Insta.”
Smiling, Sam relaxed again.
Arran stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “What’re you doing here anyway? I thought you preferred it here at night.”
Sam nodded. “Doing a little recce for the wedding venue.”
Arran smiled. “Still going with the outdoor idea for the ceremony?”
“Yep.” Sam gestured behind them. “We’ll have a gazebo in case we get kiboshed by the weather. Then onto the castle for the reception.”
“Cool. Hope my new pal Hamish can make it,” Arran said, gesturing at the cow, which was heading down the hill.
Sam smiled. “You’ve named him already?”
“Yeah,” Arran said. “I think we’re kindred spirits. And he looks like a Hamish—Hamish the Highland cow.”
