Page 61 of Loched in Love

LACHLAN MACBETH

Her wish is granted when the train experiences a major line closure, forcing us into an early departure and onto a complimentary replacement bus.

But if the train was a cramped and suffocating cage, the bus to continue our journey to my homeland is an absolute circus. It’s packed with rowdy and impatient travelers all desperate to get home.

From the second we stepped onto the coach, I’ve been fighting my own instincts worse than ever. The sour smells of human sweat, cheap beer, and cologne clogs my nostrils. Worse, I spot a sign for an onboard toilet that is sadly out of use. Every time the door opens and closes, a strong smell of piss fills the air.

I spend the entire journey boxed around Elena like a living wall. By the time the bus reaches Nairn train station, Elena looks completely exhausted and my nerves are in tatters.

“That’s it,” Elena says, the moment we step out onto pavement, her voice shaking with a mixture of adrenaline and fatigue. “No more trains. No more buses. I’m finding us a car. Right now. There’s no way driving on the wrong side of the road is worse than this.”

While she marches off into the tiny village to find someone willing to rent us a vehicle, I’m left to wait for her at the edge of a quiet, misty farm road. I glance back to see her walking toward the village center, and turn to trudge down the gravel path dragging our suitcases and Maren’s heavy cooler as I desperately need a moment away from the human heartbeats.

The air out here is cleaner, heavy with the scent of wet peat, pine, and heather. I stop by a short, moss covered stone wall that separates the road from a vast rolling green pasture and let out a long and exasperated sigh. I rest my hands on the damp stones, allowing the cool wind to soothe the residual heat in my blood.

A soft, wet snort breaks the silence.

I look up through the drifting fog, and emerging from the mist like furry little boulders are a herd of Highland cows. There are five of them with their thick, shaggy ginger coats dripping with the rain, their huge sweeping horns curving up toward the sky as they trek slowly down the muddy hill with their wide dark eyes locked onto me.

Most humans would be terrified of their immense size, but to me, they’re the most beautiful and comforting sight in the world. They’re a piece of home.

The largest of the herd, a huge matriarch with a long fringe of hair covering her eyes, plods right up to the stone wall. She stops inches from me, tilting her head, her nostrils flaring as she takes in my scent, and I’m positive she doesn’t smell a human in a flannel and jacket. She smells the ancient waters of the North.

My lips curve into the first genuine and relaxed smile I’ve had all day. The stiff and defensive guard dog posture melts entirely out of my shoulders, and cool relief spreads like a balm to my frustration.

“Hullo beautiful,” I murmur, my voice dropping into a deep velvety croon and the soft dialect of the highlands.

I lean over the stone wall, entirely unafraid of her massive horns, and stretch out my hand. The cow steps closer, pressing her wet, velvety black nose directly into my palm. She lets out a deep rumbling huff of approval, her long tongue reaching out to lick my wrist.

“Aye, I know,” I whisper to her softly, using my fingers to gently scratch at the thick coarse hair right between her furry ears. “It’s a loud messy world out there, isn’t it? Full of too many small and noisy things.”

The rest of the herd gathers around the wall nudging each other to get closer to me. I chuckle lightly, a low happy sound vibrating from my throat as I reach out with my other hand to scratch a second, smaller cow under the chin. I speak to them in low rhythmic Gaelic, murmuring old nonsense verses about the hulls, the heather, and the quiet depth of the water. They lean into my touch, their heavy eyelids fluttering shut, completely charmed and pacified by my presence standing at their gate.

If only they knew how much theirs meant to me.

A soft intake of breath sounds from the path behind me.

I turn my head, my hand still buried in ginger fur to find Elena standing a few feet away holding a set of car keys in her hand. She stops dead in her tracks to watch us.

The tiredness is gone from her face, and her gaze is shimmering with soft and watery warmth while her lips are parted in absolute awe.

“Lachlan, are those Highland cows? Aww, they look like giant fur balls with horns,” she breathes, her voice trembling slightly as her heart visibly melts before my eyes right there on the gravel path. “Oh my god, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life!”

Elena Pierson

I stare up at Lachlan, my hands still hovering over the thick shaggy fur of the cow, my heart a puddle of mush. I’m looking at this giant Scottish mythical monster crooning to a herd of cows thinking I can’t possibly love him more.

I don’t think he could get any cuter than he is right now, which is saying something.

Especially when a tiny little ginger calf no bigger than a golden retriever wobbles out from behind its mother. It nudges its soft and rubbery pink nose right into my free hand, letting out a tiny high-pitched moo that completely breaks me, and I spend the next few moments contemplating moving a baby cow into my apartment back home.

“I can’t believe this,” I whisper, as I look up at him charming the other cows. “You’re literally like a Disney prince, a giant Scottish Disney prince with fins.”

“Just a local welcoming committee,” he chuckles, and my heart does a little happy flip at the sight of his smile. He scratches lightly at one of the big animals, looking very much like a highlander at home.

“Well, the welcoming committee is adorable,” I say, feeling freer than I have since we set out on this weird journey, as I spend a glorious minute burying my fingers into ridiculously soft woolly baby hair. I look up and instantly melt inside while Lachlan watches us with the sweetest and most adoring look on his face.

But then a man walks by, his eyes dilating as if hypnotized by something, and in a split second Lachlan’s demeanor flips.