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I had a double bed first on my pick-up list, followed by a single for Tobi. Callum and Mathilda at Castle McRae provided two thick rugs, a chest of drawers and lamps, also retrieving a sturdy, iron-studded coffee table from their cellar. Gordain and Ella offered up a wardrobe from Castle Braithar that nearly broke my back carrying it to Ben’s flatbed truck, but it was quicker than breaking it down into pieces. Their daughter, Viola, organised a toy and clothing run for Tobi. I sourced curtains so no one could spy.
Piece by piece, throughout the morning, the cottage took shape.
Mia and Tobi, according to Daisy, had spent the time exploring, walking to the school and having lunch in the pub with Cameron and Elise and their kids. It had given us the space needed to get the place ready. By two in the afternoon, I wasdown to the final task of giving it another clean to rid it of the dust from moving in the furniture.
In the centre of the living room, I dug my fingers into my hair, strands coming loose from the leather tie, and turned on the spot, hunting for anything that dared be out of place.
“It’s done,” my brother offered from his lean on the kitchen doorway.
I shrugged. “I can see a dozen more things I want to do.” Nothing had been painted. All the walls were uniformly white. But I couldn’t pick out colours on their behalf. They needed to see the place and make their own decisions. What else?
“It’s done enough,” my brother tried again.
Taking a deep breath, I relented. “Aye. Maybe.”
He hollered to Daisy.
She returned inside, a tub of sprays and cleaning things in hand, and looked at me. “Text her and tell her to come.”
“She’s your employee,” I challenged back.
“And your friend,” she retorted. “You’ve done all the work. Tell her to come.”
I dropped my gaze and found my phone, hesitation slowing me. I hadn’t talked to Mia since yesterday morning when I’d texted her the whereabouts of the bunkhouse keys. We’d spent days in each other’s company in that place, followed by the late-night flit down to collect her daughter. It made no sense now for me to feel strange about messaging her. No sense at all. I pulled myself together and sent the text.
Then it was a waiting game.
Daisy and Ben talked in low voices by the door. I took myself to the kitchen, fussing with the back door which was still stiff though I’d greased it.
Tension built in me. The more minutes passed, the more my stomach tightened.
She didn’t text back, but a dozen checks showed me she’d seen and read the request.
Then tyres crunched the gravel outside.
Voices followed.
Mia’s hesitant tones, Tobi’s happier ones, then exclamations as Daisy brought them inside. My boots were glued to the floor. Not physically, but somehow I couldn’t budge. The same sensation as not being able to message her had returned tenfold, holding me in a death grip. There was something messed up in my head, and I frowned at myself, pissed off that I was missing that very expression I’d wanted to see.
But witnessing it…that felt dangerous, too.
The voices moved through the house, going from room to room until they came my way. Standing by myself in the kitchen, I resembled a statue, or a stalker, so I snatched up a screwdriver, the last tool left in the place after I’d done the rounds of tightening screws.
Mia entered the bright space, her fingertips pressed together over her mouth and her eyes bright with unshed tears. Her gaze shot to mine. Locked on.
Emotion fucking rocked me.
Peeking around her, Tobi grinned at me. “Valentine’s here.”
At her back, Daisy gave up my role. “Valentine has worked tirelessly on this place. At a guess, I’d say he’s done ninety percent of the work.”
Tobi’s mouth formed an ‘O’. “Even the toy hammock in my bedroom?”
“I think so,” Daisy said when I made zero reply.
All I could see was her ma.
To my horror, Mia choked out a cry, instantly stifling it.
