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There’s a flap of camouflaged roofing covered in fake shrubbery, which serves as a kind of door when lifted up – which I do now as Alana ducks inside.
“Oh, wow,” she says as she enters, looking around. “I didn’t expect it to be like this inside.”
“It’s basic, but it works,” I say.
There is a kind of bench right at the front of the hide that serves as a place where you can kneel to look out, allowing you to steady your gun on the ledge of the window opening. Or your elbows, if you’re just enjoying the view.
The back of the hide is lined in simple wood to stop the earth from encroaching on the space, and it’s kept dry by the roof, creating a little hideaway from the world, which is perfect for sitting for hours.
I follow Alana inside, showing her how to climb onto the kneeling bench to look out.
It also serves as a great place to sit once you turn the other way in order to have your lunch or take a break from watching, but we can get to that later.
“It’s like we’re completely in a different world,” Alana says. “Even though we’re open to the outside, it’s quieter here. And warmer.”
“I’d have to say the warmth is one of the biggest draws of the hide.” I smile. “On a cold winter’s day, you don’t want to be out there trying to do a count of the herd, believe me.”
Alana draws in a deep breath and then lets out a sigh of contentment. “You can see so much from here,” she says in awe. “The hills, the view down to the loch and the water, everything. It’s beautiful. And with the buggy parked behind us, it’s like there are other humans in the world – just us and nature.”
“That’s what I love about it,” I tell her, turning my eyes away from her beauty at last to check the view myself.
I’ve grown accustomed to it naturally over the course of my life, but with her awe taken into consideration, I can see it a little bit like it’s the first time again.
She’s right. It is stunning. I never let myself forget how lucky I am for this to be my home, but right now, it’s hitting me particularly hard.
Barnbraw is mine, but I know I would feel the urge to fight to make it so if it wasn’t.
And when I look at the young woman next to me, I feel the same way.
She has to be mine – no matter what it takes, even if it takes all of my power. I will shower her with expensive gifts or hire someone to look over the estate for me. Then, I can fly back to the States with Alana just to be with her for a while.
I have to claim her.
“Oh, look!” Alana exclaims, then claps a hand over her mouth as if realizing she should be quieter. I watch her wide eyes, full of wonder, before turning to see what it is that has her so excited.
It’s the herd, of course. The great old stag, which Hamish and I affectionately call Landseer after the famous painting, is leading his does to graze across an area of land not too far from us.
They are right on cue for their usual schedule, which impresses me. After yesterday, I thought they might be more cautious.
Perhaps they know their Laird will protect them. The thought fills me with pride, even if there’s no real way to confirm it. I like to think that they have enough of a sense of me to know.
That no matter what happens, I will protect them from harm.
A stirring in my blood tells me I might want to do the same for the woman beside me, too.
I shift, and my elbow brushes against hers, half intentional and half accidental, a consequence of choosing such close quarters to hide in. I hear the hitch in her breath and mark it in my head as we make contact.
She doesn’t pull away as I rest my elbow at an angle that extends it out toward her. I’m sure I feel her shift subtly toward me as well, ensuring that our contact is sustained.
I’m even more sure of it when I glance out of the corner of my eye and see her quickly look away from me, her cheeks bright red.
I’m not a teenager anymore – it’s been a long since I was.
I’m not about to waste time trying to be coy or pretending I don’t want her. Not when I do want her – more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything.
There is a time for games in life, but I’m past that.
I turn fully toward her, allowing my gaze to rake over her once more.
