Rae rolled her eyes, no longer expecting praise from the contrary woman. Still, when she slipped on her sunhat to head back into the throng, Gran’s cool fingers curled around her wrist, stopping her.
‘It hasn’t been this busy in years, hen. You’ve done well.’
Rae softened, trying to muster a thanks – until Gran sniffed. ‘Even if itismy wines drawing most of them in.’
‘Of course, Gran. Why else would they be here?’ Rae grinned and hopped down the steps. With the fluffy white clouds patterning the blue sky and laughter floating all around, she felt both grounded and weightless. She was right where she needed to be, and though she was unsure what her future would look like, she was in no rush to go somewhere new.
She waved at Cam on her way to the strawberry fields to supply the pickers with more baskets. The redhead was slumped against the Raindrop Cafe’s stall, where iced coffee and paninis were on offer. Colin manned the stall beside her with his teas, and Graeme served refreshing cocktails with fruit from the fields. On the opposite side of the picnic area was Pam’s Pies, and Eiley had parked up her book bus on the very edge. With the monarch butterflies dancing through the air and bright energy pulsing all around, it felt more like a festival than a fair.It would be even better later when a local folk band played in the tent where, less than a few weeks ago, Harper and Fraser had celebrated their marriage.
She could imagine it like this for years to come. More events, more celebrations, more joy. This was how she remembered summers, and she wanted that for every child here. Even her uncle and cousins had turned up to enjoy it, currently taking pictures by the huge cardboard strawberries and blueberries that Martha and Vik had painted together, with holes cut into them for people’s faces.
With nobody set to take over, she couldn’t predict how Sweetbriar’s story would end, but that fate felt far away now that she didn’t have to worry. If it was her who filled Dad’s shoes, she’d be thrilled to stay and watch her home thrive again. She so rarely witnessed her hard work paying off, always another dish to plate up, another customer to please, another order to fill. She hadn’t realised just how gratifying it could be to taste the fruits of her labour – literally.
When her mind promised,You’ll be okay, she dared to believe it this time.
She was so busy chatting with her volunteers that she only noticed Myra helping a pyjama-clad man out of a taxi once the door had slammed shut.
She blinked, dashing over to be sure she wasn’t seeing things – but it was her dad taking slow steps towards the fence to greet her. His peaky pallor still contrasted with his beard, but his eyes creased with a wide grin at the sight of her.
‘Surprise.’
‘I thought you weren’t getting discharged until tomorrow!’ She tried to envelope him gently, but he had no such plans, arms a bruising clamp around her middle.
‘The nurses got sick of me,’ he joked.
She could believe that. He’d been pulling his hair out on the recovery ward, so sick of hospital food and staring at the pale curtains that she’d been supplying him with homemade meals, crossword books, and Nintendo Switch games.
‘I didn’t want to miss this,’ he said quieter, his heavy palm stroking her spine. ‘I know how hard you’ve worked, and I know it’s been more difficult than you’ve let on. You’ve done us all proud, kiddo.’
Her heart leapt into her throat. ‘Thanks, Dad. I love you.’
‘As nice as this is, you’re crushing wee Simon.’
She hopped away, forgetting about the stoma bag beneath his dressing gown. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Naw. Just takes some getting used to is all.’ He squeezed her hand a final time. ‘I’ll go and make myself look presentable. You enjoy yourself, aye?’
With Myra hooking her free arm through his, Rae nodded. Though she felt guilty about heading back into the fun, she knew he didn’t need her hovering around. He had someone else to look after him, now.
She continued like that for the rest of the afternoon, helping Martha at the farm shop, Vik with the cleaning, making sure the volunteers were fed and watered as the afternoon heat soared. The farm became a dazzling patchwork of green, blue, gold, flowers and fruit and laughter interwoven through every acre.
When she returned to the farm shop, it was clear Martha and Vik had been enjoying the preserves, their fingers and faces sticky as they smeared crushed cherries over one another. Vik clamped her sturdy arms around Martha to stop her from ruining her black muscle tee, the two of them laughing like children.
‘You two have had too much sugar,’ Rae pointed out, nudging them aside to help an elderly lady waiting at the counter. She’d bought a jam of every flavour, claiming it was the best she’d ever tasted. Rae beamed at the compliment and threw in a free bottle of Nan’s strawberry lemonade to show her thanks, only realising afterwards that there weren’t many items left to sell.
She supposed she’d be busy replenishing the stock next week, then.
‘I made you a present,’ Martha claimed, wrestling out of Vik’s arms. She produced a long daisy chain, resting it on the crown of Rae’s head.
Overcome with warmth, Rae fingered the delicate petals, feeling like a child parading as a princess again. ‘I love it. Thank you.’
‘I loveyou,’ Martha declared. When she swung herself around Rae’s neck, almost sending them both toppling, Rae caught a whiff of gin on her breath, and it all made a bit more sense.
‘Have you perhaps been enjoying Graeme’s cocktails?’
‘I was thirsty!’
‘I’m not judging,’ Rae promised. She intended to get a little bit tipsy herself once all this was over. Tonight, she’d cook for the volunteers to thank them for all their hard work,have her own little celebration. After the summer she’d had, she deserved it. She was trying her best to not think of Struan, and succeeding at least eight per cent of the time, which was an improvement compared to the previous zero per cent average.
