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“The males cast their antlers after the autumn mating season. The females keep them until the calves are born in May.”
Samantha decided she might have to find an excuse to come back in spring. “Can I take photos?”
“Go ahead.”
She retrieved her camera and snapped away until one of the reindeer wandered toward them.
She took a few close-ups and then put her camera away. “Can I stroke him?”
“This one is a she. We call her Wren.”
“You recognize them individually?”
“I grew up with them.” He looked a little embarrassed. “All the reindeer are named after birds. Because they can fly, obviously.”
“Obviously.” She shared a look with him and then reached out and tentatively stroked the reindeer. He knew the reindeer by name. He’d told her he was out of his depth here, and yet he recognized them. Something thawed inside her. “This might be the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I feel about six years old.” And if she felt this excited, how would her clients feel?
“You’re never too old to enjoy reindeer. And the setting doesn’t hurt. It’s better than a meditation session being out here in the winter.”
“You don’t miss the city?”
“Not particularly, although I miss being close to an airport when I need to travel. Also, I miss feeling confident about what I’m doing.” He rubbed the reindeer’s neck. “I like to think I’m pretty good at my job. This? Not so much. But being here has its compensations. No commute. Great air quality. There’s a simplicity to life that I missed when I was in the city.”
Samantha smiled as the reindeer nudged her. “And many people would agree with you. Do you have any idea how special this is? I’m sure it’s a lot of work to do events, but how about people coming to you? That way you don’t have to take the reindeer anywhere, and you’re still taking advantage of these fabulous surroundings.”
“You mean as well as house parties?”
“Yes. It must be possible to do both.” The reindeer nudged her again and she tugged off her glove so that she could sink her fingers into his fur. The warmth of the animal contrasted with the bitter cold of the wind. “What you have here is very special.”
“The reindeer?”
“All of it.” She smiled as another reindeer approached. “Who is this?”
“Goose.”
“You look nothing like a goose.” She rubbed the animal’s neck. “You’re right about it being relaxing. Do you think reindeer therapy could become a thing?”
“You tell me.”
“I think it could. Right now I want to sell my apartment and live in the mountains with a herd of reindeer.” It was all she could do to tear herself away, but they headed back to the car and bounced and bumped their way back along the rutted track until they reached the road. “Where are we going next?”
“To the village. This will be the closest thing we have to civilization in case your guests feel in need of that during their stay. We have a small school, a post office that sells everything from tea to hiking boots and a pub. Highland pubs have a long tradition of great hospitality.”
The pub overlooked the river and was surrounded by pine trees.
Samantha paused by the door to take a few photographs—snow piled against a stone wall, the pub sign swinging slightly in the wind—then she stepped through the door and was enveloped by warmth, the hum of conversation and the smell of good food. There was a crowd of people gathered round the bar, and it was obvious that almost everyone in there knew each other.
The conversation stopped as she entered. Heads turned.
She smiled and hurried across to Brodie, who had grabbed a table close to the open fire.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Wrong?” His glasses had steamed up, and he pulled them off and dug around in his pockets for a cloth.
She handed him one from her purse. “They’re staring at me.”
He polished his glasses and squinted toward the bar. “Probably those ski pants you’re wearing.”
