A bit like he longed to be. Abandoned, not dead, that was. Fatigue covered him like a tender, full-body bruise. On his way to the tent, flecked with rainwater, he tried to fix the tight knot of his maroon tie, but he’d tugged too hard in his rush and now ran the risk of suffocating.Just before he reached the opening, two nimble hands batted his away. A bleary version of his sister formed in front of him. ‘I didn’t think you were going to make it.’
‘How much have I missed?’ He sank in relief when the tie loosened, and tugged at his collar before she set to redo it.
‘Almost all of it. The speeches, the meal, the first dance.’
Shite. He’d been so looking forward to celebrating Harper and Fraser’s special day, and he knew how badly Rae had needed help.
Martha fixed his hair with annoying plucks of her fingers until, eventually, he nudged her arm away. ‘What’s next? Spitting on a hanky and wiping my face?’
‘You need it. You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge. Backwards.’ Her floral, wide-legged jumpsuit rippled in the rain-scented breeze, the crescent moon necklace he’d bought her for her birthday last year around her neck. Despite not knowing Harper, she’d made the effort with her make-up, blush and shimmer on her high cheekbones and smoky shadow on her lids.
‘You sound more and more like Mum every day,’ he grumbled, focus slipping to the house. ‘Did Rae go all right?’
‘Fuck, yeah. The guests loved her cooking. It was like listening in on an orgy.’
‘Hm. Who needs a Michelin star when you can make an entire tent moan?’ He tamed his hair a final time, then made sure all of his buttons were done up. They were, but in the wrong holes.
‘I’m glad you’re here. Something awful is happening.’
‘Oh, aye?’ He was only half listening, trying not to expose his torso to the strangers scattered around with their champagne and disposable cameras. The gentle melody of a woman covering ‘Yellow’ by Coldplay drifted from within the tent along with the chatter and laughter, causing a pang to run through him. Somehow, he was always on the outside of it all, even when he tried not to be. His job, his restlessness, his scattered way of existing, would always leave him excluded. It was a small price to pay for the relief that came with saving a life, and yet he found himself wishing that, just once, he could be on the inside of the tent with everyone else.
‘Vik and Cam are actually getting along,’ Martha was saying.
‘Well, you do have a type,’ he pointed out, scanning the yard again. ‘Is Rae in there?’
A glower moulded Martha’s features, extra intense now ringed with blue liner. ‘Stop asking for her.’
His lips pursed. He was in no mood to have this conversation. ‘I’m only curious.’
‘You haven’t even greeted the bride and groom yet! Get your priorities straight.’
Rolling his eyes, he wandered away before he said something he’d regret. If his priorities weren’t straight, he wouldn’t be distancing himself from the one person who made him feel whole.
He dipped into the canopy’s opening, finding the space every bit as magical as Harper had described when she’d gushed about her ideas. Flowers and leaves dripped down the tent windows in golds, lilacs, whites, and greens, and children ran around with fairy wings on their backs, using the long tablecloths as hiding places.He waved at Vik, who was chatting with Cam’s wife, Sorcha, at a table, then greeted Myra and Eiley by the chocolate fountain, before finally making it over to the happy couple. They were so lost in one another that Struan felt bad for interrupting, chest squeezing at the sight of their locked, smitten gazes and interlaced hands. Harper was ethereal in her long white gown, sequin speckled lace covering her arms and her neckline forming the shape of a heart. She wore a crown of sunflowers and leaves, matching the boutonnière pinned to Fraser’s lapel. Clearly, she was enjoying his kilt, because her hands kept dancing over the pleated green and blue tartan as she bit her lip.
‘Now, now. There are still children in the room,’ Struan mocked.
Harper whirled with a dazzling smile. ‘Thank God! Are you all right? Martha told me about the accident!’
‘There were some pretty brutal injuries, but they’re all expected to make a full recovery.’ He pulled her in, careful not to wrinkle the delicate fabric. He knew he wouldn’t make it out of this tent alive otherwise. ‘I’m so sorry I missed it all.’
‘Since you were saving lives, I’ll let you off this time.’
He shook Fraser’s hand. ‘Congratulations, mate. And good luck.’
‘Oi!’ Harper scolded.
Offering thanks, Fraser placed a kiss on Harper’s temple before muttering, ‘Oh, shite. Saff’s got her face in the chocolate fountain again.’ He dashed off, leaving the two of them alone.
‘Is it the fairy tale you were hoping for?’ Struan asked.
‘Better,’ she replied, voice thick with tears as she watched the guests sway on the dance floor. Martha and Vik had joined in, Vik’s hands on Martha’s hips as they conversed, adorations welling in their expressions.
What must it be like, to find that sort of connection?
Struan found himself already knowing the answer, his heart tugging in the direction of the farmhouse.
‘Can you do me a favour?’ Harper placed a light hand on his arm.
