Page 30 of A Scottish Island Summer

As soon as I reached Logan, the relief was so palpable, I almost threw my arms around him. I gazed up into his arresting eyes for a few moments, then remembered what an insufferable twat he was and hastily looked away. ‘Thank you. For helping me just now.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

I straightened my waterproof jacket for something to do and turned away, pretending to appreciate the sea. ‘Right. Well. Seeing as we’ve thrown off Godzilla, I suggest we get down to the beach as soon as we can…’

I turned around. My voice died.

The bull was approaching us, its flanks and shoulders swaying this way and that as it crossed the windswept hillside.

I let out a desperate shriek and reached to grip onto Logan’s arm, but he wasn’t there.

I did a double take.

He was moving towards it.

What the hell was he playing at?!

Then my mouth fell open in shock. They were saying hello to one another. The Highland animal was lapping up Logan’s gentle pats. My jaw clenched. ‘Hold on a second. Are you telling me you know this bull?’ I blinked at Logan. ‘He’s friendly?!’

‘Oh aye. This is old Rusty. I’ve known him since he was a calf.’

My temper took off like a rogue firework. ‘But you… You…’ Indignation flared in my cheeks. ‘You let me think he was dangerous!’

‘No, I never told you Rusty was dangerous. You just assumed he was.’ Logan carried on rubbing Rusty’s furry flank. ‘And anyway, he could’ve been a marauding beast, but he isn’t.’ Logan’s lips threatened to tremble at the corners. ‘That’s your first lesson for today. How to behave if you come across farm animals.’ He broke into a winning smile. ‘You did good. Well done.’

I made a series of indecipherable noises, that only made Logan’s smile wider. ‘You’re a cretin,’ I finally ground out. ‘A hairy-faced, arrogant tosser.’

‘That’s no way to speak to a poor, defenceless animal.’ Logan laughed, bounding up to me with his rucksack on his back.

I gritted my teeth. Oh, I bet he had a right laugh just now, watching the London girl with no clue about the countryside, in fear of her life from a harmless creature. ‘I won’t forget this,’ I seethed, gripping the straps of my rucksack. ‘If you ever need my help, you can get stuffed, because I won’t be there.’

I marched on, with my rucksack furiously bumping against my spine. ‘Tidal waves, quick sand, volcanic eruption … let’s hope it’s all three of them.’

‘You mean when I need help with colour co-ordinating an outfit or choosing what curling tongs to use on my beard, I can’t count on you?’

‘Dickhead,’ I grunted.

I dumped my rucksack down by my feet, yanked out my mobile, swung my rucksack back on my back and took off again ahead of him.

‘Watch out for the killer sheep just ahead,’ he joked, striding up behind me.

I pretended not to hear.

‘Hey. Hold on a second.’ He drew up and made me do the same. ‘Seriously though Darcie. Just stay close to me, OK? You’ll be fine.’

I stared up into those silvery eyes of his. I jerked my head away.

‘But it would help if you walked a bit faster.’

I fought to keep my temper. ‘And it’d help if you walked a bit slower!’

We carried on, crossing a couple of streams, the pebbles and rocks like shiny jewels under our feet.

Then we negotiated a kissing gate to take us onto a track downhill.

‘Get your camera ready,’ advised Logan. ‘You won’t want to miss this.’

I flexed one cynical brow. ‘Oh really? Don’t tell me, there’s mermaids and killer whales down there.’