Three days later, the snow had melted enough for her to leave. Neither of them returned to the conversation about their lack of a future together. She’d trekked out to the stables with him during the day, and volunteered her help with the horses and sheep. When they’d worked side by side, she’d felt Adam’s eyes on her, and she’d wondered what he was thinking. Was he coming to agree with her that this was not the life she was cut out for? Or was he thinking the exact opposite?

She wasn’t sure why she was turning those thoughts over and over in her head, worrying at them like an unscratched itch. She’d said clearly that this wasn’t what she wanted so why did she want Adam to disagree with her so much?

She’d lost track of the number of times they’d had sex, falling into bed sometimes when they came in from the barn, shedding layers of clothes across the floor, the cool air of the room welcome after working so hard. Or she’d slide into bed next to him at night, her hair damp from the shower, and he’d roll over, pinning her to the bed, his knee slowly sliding her legs apart, his hips settling down on hers. One of them would wake in the night, the creaking sounds of the house stirring them from sleep, and a touch would turn into more. Or she’d wake to find Adam disappeared beneath the covers, his tongue drawing slow patterns over her flesh. Every time they’d almost started to talk again, they’d stop it with sex. It was as if neither one of them wanted to damage the fragile limbo that they existed in.

The day that the snow finally cleared enough for Adam to drive her home, they didn’t talk about the future either. She did try to bring it up over breakfast, but Adam only nodded. “Best not to leave the cottage empty too long,” was all he said. “I can come help clear away some of the snow and restock the woodpile if you like, check for cracked pipes and all of that.”

“I think I can manage,” Amelia said. “I am from the Midwest after all, I know my way around an old house.”

Adam had smiled at her, and there’d been no other conversation besides small talk—no mention of what they were to each other, or where it might be going, or when they would see each other again. It was entirely possible, Amelia thought, staring out of the foggy window at the fields as they bumped over the road to her cottage, that this might be the last time that they see each other outside of the Moose and Thistle.

As soon as they arrived at the cottage, he insisted on chopping some more wood for her. Amelia watched him from the kitchen window as she made sandwiches for them, struck again by the domesticity of it all, how natural it felt to go through the motions.

After lunch, he remained at the table for a moment as Amelia put the dishes in the sink, drumming his fingers against the wood.

“I should probably get going,” he said finally, a note of reluctance in his voice.

Amelia bit her lip, but she nodded. She felt a sharp ache at the thought of him walking out, at the idea that their relationship was likely at an end. She nodded again, trying desperately to think of something to say.

Adam stood up and walked to her side, touching her chin gently. “I’ll see you again, yeah? Promise.”

“I thought you said no promises?” Amelia managed a weak smile.

“Aye, well, I suppose one more won’t hurt.” He bent and kissed her quickly, his lips brushing across hers, skimming over them as if he knew that if he lingered too long he wouldn’t go at all. He straightened, tapped her chin gently, and smiled. “See you around, lass.” And with that, he turned and walked towards the door.

Amelia sucked in her breath, her fingers curling around the edge of the sink, and she watched him trudge across the yard to the old blue truck. It growled noisily as he started it up, and she watched it go down the road and disappear over the hill.

With a sigh, she left the sink, grabbing her laptop out of the bag and walking into the living room. Adam has started a fire, and it crackled merrily, an irritating counterpoint to her mood. She tried to start on her data sheets, but she couldn’t focus. All she could think about was Adam—the touch of his hand on her face, his lips on her mouth…and everywhere else they’d been. She needed a distraction.

Maybe she needed to get away for a few days. Surely the isolation was affecting her. Edinburgh was a bit of a haul—she still shuddered a little when she thought about the taxi, ferry, and bus connections she’d had to make to get to the cottage—but maybe a long weekend in the city was just what she needed. She tapped her nails against the laptop. The more she thought about it, the better the idea seemed. She could clear her head, stop thinking about Adam for a few days, and how close he was. Yes, she needed a change of scenery.

* * *

Two days later and halfway to Edinburgh she was wondering if the trip was worth it after all. The bus ride was even more unpleasant than she’d remembered, and by the time she arrived in the city, she wanted nothing more than to get to her hotel and fall into a bed that would hopefully be more comfortable than the one she’d left back at the cottage.

The hot shower perked her up, made her feel a hundred times more human. She decided that she was in good enough shape to go out for a drink. Amelia dug the one nice outfit she’d brought out of her bag. She’d felt a little foolish for packing it—what possible use would she have for going-out clothes in the middle of a bunch of fields? Now she was glad she’d packed it. It felt good to be out of the heavy sweaters and flannel that she’d been living in for the past few weeks. The black skinny jeans, silky black tank, and black leather jacket sitting on the bed were just the thing to make her feel like her old self again.

She did her makeup, slipped on some jewelry, and studied the results in the mirror. The makeup had covered up the red tinge that appeared on her skin from days of being battered by the wind. She smiled at her reflection. Maybe this was a good idea after all.

She called a taxi, and told the driver to take her to the nearest bar that he could recommend. She felt adventurous, taking off on her own in a new city. She was determined to not think about Adam, to push all the confusion of the last few days out of her head, and just enjoy the experience. Maybe she should have done this sooner, she thought, as she stepped out of the taxi and into the building, weaving her way around drunk rugby players and girls on girly nights' out. She finally made it to the scratched hardwood bar that curved around the back of the room. The bartender, a man with a neatly trimmed black beard and a half-frown, glanced at her. “What’ll you have?”

“Gin and tonic,” Amelia said. “I don't suppose I can start a tab?”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary,” she heard a familiar voice say behind her. “I’ll buy the lady a drink.”

Her heart leaping into her throat, Amelia turned around slowly.