Chapter 4
I get dressed and head over to the cattle shed, to see how Jamie’s doing. The distinctive smell of the farm fills my nostrils, the stench of cattle dung and urine overpowering, so I pinch my nostrils together until I get used to it. I’m dressed in an old pair of jeans, a polo necked jumper and a waterproof coat I found behind the front door of the cottage. I’m also wearing a pair of wellington boots that I brought especially for the trip. They’re bright pink with colourful blue and yellow daisies stencilled on them. It had been Kiera who’d helped me pick them out, and I smile, remembering her insisting I purchase them so they would remind me of her. And she was right, they do.
As soon as I enter the shed, I hear Jamie shout “Whoa, will ye stay still, ye stupid idiot. Ye cannae go out until you’ve been seen.” He’s in one of the metal pens, slurry splashed all over his bright yellow jacket, a layer of thick khaki-coloured manure. He’s oblivious, though, his only concern is for the animal.
His strong hands stroke the back of a large golden-brown beast, its head secure in a cattle crush. I don’t know much about cattle, but what I do know is that these Highland varieties are one of Britain’s most distinctive breeds. With long, thick flowing coats and majestic, sweeping horns, these animals are truly exceptional. When I’m only a few feet away, it lets out a deep-bellied groan. The bull is clearly in pain and continues to bellow, its large bulbous eyes now staring right at me, a surge of hot breath shooting from its nostrils. It’s cold inside the shed and the bull’s vapours fill the air, reminding me of steam issuing from a boiling kettle.
As I draw nearer, I can see Jamie’s doing his best to calm the animal. His devotion to the farm is clear, even to me, an outsider.
The last time I visited, I witnessed him saving a new-born calf. The latest addition had become entangled within its afterbirth, about to be trampled upon by the herd. Jamie had run between the cattle, shooing the mammoth beasts aside, as though they were overgrown flies. He’d reached the calf and cleared away the membrane from its body, and within seconds had the calf standing on all fours, clear to those who’d witnessed his courage that he’d saved the mite from certain death. For me, I’d seen at first-hand his dedication. He’s simply a natural.
I move a little closer. There’s splashes of red mingled within the hay and I notice splats of blood on the concrete floor. Realisation hits me as to just how injured the bull must be and I grow concerned for Jamie’s welfare. If it gets violent, a kick from one of those powerful hind legs could be fatal. I edge my way to the barrier, which keeps me free from harm.
“Hey, Jamie, is everything okay?”
He turns and his brows are creased with concern. He moves to one side, revealing a thick bandage wrapped around the animal’s foreleg. It’s crimson with dried blood.
“Hi, Maddie. Nah, not really. As ye can see, he’s lost a lot of blood and there’s nae sign of the vet.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I know it’s a silly question, but I ask it anyway. What can I do in this kind of situation? Make tea?
“Aye, can ye just reach inside my overcoat pocket and get my mobile out.”
He points to a dark green jacket lying on a bale of hay, just a few feet away.
I hurry over when I hear the urgency in his voice, fumble in the pockets and find his phone, quickly passing it to him. We’re both taken by surprise when it rings.
He answers the call and the look of relief is instant.
“Aye, the gate’s open,” and he nods at me. “I’m waiting for ye. Come straight to the main cattle shed.”
He ends the call and offers me the phone, which I dutifully place back in his pocket.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, and again, I know it’s a stupid question, but what else can I say?
Jamie shakes his head.
“I cannae say hen, but let’s hope so, eh?”
It’s my turn to nod, and as I do so, a car door slams out in the yard.
“He’s here,” I declare, and dash off to greet the vet. I don’t know why, but I’m expecting an elderly man with grey hair and brown breeches. So, I’m taken aback when I offer my hand to a thirty-something woman dressed in tight jeans, a waterproof anorak and a pair of green wellies. A baseball cap holds back long brown hair tied up into a ponytail. She’s pretty and slim.
“Hi,” I say. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”
“No problem. I’m Ally,” she replies in a curt tone. “And you are?”
“Oh, I’m Maddie. Callum’s wife.”
A look of astonishment crosses her face. “Wife? You mean, he brought you here?”
“Yes, that’s right. We’re on holiday.”
Ally pulls her mouth into an unflattering line.
“Is there a problem, only you’ve turned rather pale?”
“No, I’m fine. Is the injured animal inside?”
I jump back and out of her way. “Oh, yes. Sorry, Jamie’s waiting. Please hurry.”
She dips her wellington boots into the disinfectant Jamie’s left outside the shed door and then makes her way inside. I hesitate, as I’m out of my depth here, but I don’t want just to walk off back to the farmhouse. I decide to follow her, in case they need an extra pair of hands. When I reach the pen, Ally’s already assessing the damaged limb.
“Barbed wire?” she asks Jamie, and he nods.
“Aye, it’d come loose up on the glen, but ‘tis fixed nah.”
Ally heads back to her car and returns with an assortment of medical supplies, neatly organised inside a plastic tray. She places the tray on top of a bale of hay, so she can wash her hands in the stone sink in the corner of the shed. After snapping on a pair of latex gloves her fingers rummage through an assortment of drugs, sealed bandages and medicines. Finding what she’s looking for, she turns her attention back to the injured animal. She cuts off the bloodstained cloth from around the leg, and washes down the wound with a hosepipe, then wipes away all traces of blood and dirt with saline and a sterile gauze.
“Don’t worry, the laceration isn’t as bad as you first thought. This bull won’t be going for slaughter. Not today, anyway.”
Jamie lets out a sigh of relief. “Och, that’s guid news, and just what I wanted to hear. We cannae afford to lose him, not at this time of year.” He places a small bucket of cattle cake in front of the crush, and the bull dips his head inside.
With the animal distracted, Ally bobs down onto her haunches and her fingers push the jagged pieces of skin back together.
“I can stitch up the leg,” she says, “but you’ll need to keep him away from the fold for a few days, at least.” As she speaks, I notice for the first time that she doesn’t have a Scottish accent. I try to place the soft intonation in her voice, but I can’t quite pinpoint the dialect.
From a safe distance, I watch Jamie help the vet. They’re a good team. Jamie appears to know her every move, and I stare, fascinated, as they work together. Jamie’s right by her side and holds the bull steady whilst Ally prepares a large syringe and injects the wound with anaesthetic. The animal calms and the bellowing stops.
It takes well over an hour until the vet’s done the best she can. Once the stitches are in place, she packs the medical equipment away and I hear her tell Jamie she’ll be back in a few days. I walk back to the entrance of the shed and wait for her.
“Thanks for all your help,” I say as she approaches.
She nods. “No problem,” but her eyes don’t meet mine and she carries on walking. I feel my brows loft in surprise. Head down, she goes straight to her car and drives away, leaving me staring after her taillights. I ponder what I might have said to cause her to be so dismissive towards me, coming up with nothing; a big fat zero.
“Maddie, where are ye?” Jamie calls, and I hurry back inside, convinced I must have been mistaken.
***
Fresh air, dark rolling hills and a backdrop of white misty mountains are enough of an incentive for me to help Jamie pack the winter picnic.
“Where are we going, exactly?” I ask as we head out into the farmyard. I’m dressed in warm boots and a thick woolly jumper, thankful there’s no biting wind, but it’s still cold. I pull a tartan scarf from my coat pocket and wrap it around my neck.
Jamie taps the side of his nose and heads over to the Land Rover. Throwing open the back door, he places the wicker basket onto the floor, alongside a red blanket.
“You’ve packed enough sandwiches to feed an entire army,” I say, amused.
“I cannae have ye going hungry,” he tells me.
“Hungry! Are you serious? Have you seen the size of those pieces of madeira cake? I swear, I’ll be on a strict diet the second I’m home.”
Jamie stops what he’s doing to look me up and down.
“Och, I’ve seen more meat on a sparrow’s kneecap.”
“Oh, is that right?” and I raise my nose in the air. “I guess you must get up close and personal to a lot of birds, then.”
I shove on a woollen hat with built in earmuffs that cover my ears and push my hair out of my eyes.
Jamie smirks, opens the passenger door and I jump inside. The Land Rover has no soft-padded seats or instant heat. It’s what I’d call prehistoric and it’s rather basic, but at least the engine’s in good condition. He goes around to the other side and climbs in beside me, slamming the door hard so the metal groans in protest.
He turns to me and smiles.
“It’s a heap of shite, I ken, but it’ll get us to where we wannae be.”
He playfully tugs at one of the tie-strings dangling from my ears, taken by surprise when my hat falls off. I’m quick to catch it and he laughs a huge belly laugh.
“Ye look silly wearing those earflaps,” he chuckles. “All ye need is a pair of goggles and you’d have a canny resemblance to Biggles!”
I burst out laughing, and Jamie gives me a wink, a cheeky grin across his face. He starts the engine and I pop my hat back on. He thrusts the gearstick into first, and with a sharp jolt, off we go.
“It’s one hell of a bumpy ride,” I say, just a few minutes into the journey.
“Aye, I’m afraid the roads are little more than dirt tracks around here.”
“I can tell. I think you’ve managed to hit every pot hole so far,” I say with a smirk.
Jamie lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I ken it isnae comfortable sitting in this tin can, but I promise ye the view will be worth it.”
I stare out of the window. Although it’s almost at the end of February we’re still lucky with the weather. Little snow has fallen over the Highlands this year, although Alasdair says it’s coming. I gaze wistfully at the white snow-topped mountains, but then Jamie points towards one of the peaks.
“There’s snow all year round on them there bens,” he tells me.
“Bens?” What do you mean?”
“Mountains. Ye ken, it doesnae matter how warm it gets, the snow ne’er melts.”
I nod and smile. Sometimes, I just haven’t a clue what he’s talking about, but I like listening to him—a lot. We continue to chat about the passing countryside until we come to a fork in the road. There’s no one else around, just Jamie and myself, and I can see for miles and miles. The Glen stretches out before me like a warm brown carpet and I can’t wait to plant my feet onto its rich dark earth.
Jamie takes a left and the loch shimmers in welcome just a few miles away. The mountains roll up against a backdrop of dark green forest and its overarching pale-blue sky. I’m lucky enough to spot a wild hare dashing to its burrow and am thrilled when Jamie points out a red deer grazing in the distance.
He stops the Land Rover and we both clamber out. Jamie goes to the back of the vehicle and pulls out the picnic basket and the thick red blanket, passing them to me before fiddling about under one of the back seats. Out comes an old metal box, a pair of binoculars revealed when he lifts its lid. He places them around his neck and then closes the door, taking back the blanket and basket from my hands.
I amble behind as he edges closer to the water. The loch glistens as we approach. There’s a tiny island in the middle filled with tall aspens and common alder. I stare way beyond the trees, though, to the majestically peaked mountains, their summits swathed in white fluffy clouds. If only Callum could see this.
I assume it must be hard for Jamie to bring me here to the loch and not his late wife. Callum says she was an Irish colleen, born in the county of Cork, with raven black hair and ocean green eyes. She must have been stunning. Callum once told me how a famous New York designer spotted her in a restaurant whilst visiting on holiday and practically begged her to become his fashion model.
“What was she like…Claire, your wife?”
Jamie turns to look at me, mid-stride, and I notice his brows knit together.
“Och, she was the most remarkable woman I ever met.”
“I bet you miss her terribly,” I say, treading carefully. “I mean…she must have been a big part of your life?”
He slows so he can walk beside me.
“Aye, I cannae deny that, and leaving me the way she did left a gaping hole in my chest where my heart should be. She was my everything,” he whispers. “My sun and moon and stars all rolled into one. She had this crazy energy about her, so full of life, and when she died, a part of me died along with her.”
I gulp and take a breath. I hadn’t expected him to be quite so honest and open.
“How long were you married, before she became ill?”
“Just short of four wonderful years. I met her at the county fair, ye ken? She was visiting an old schoolfriend and they’d travelled down for the day. She was eating candy floss when I first clapped eyes on her, and I thought her the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Jet black hair right down to her waist, and those eyes…Wow. They were green, like ocean pools. She stared at me and her dazzling smile simply blew my breath away. It was love at first sight, for the both of us.” He lowers his head and lets out a loud sigh. “A lifetime wouldnae have been long enough for that kind of love.”
He drops to his knees.
“This’ll do here,” he says, and spreads the blanket over the ground. I hear water lapping over the tiny stones along the shore as the waves wash over them, and I sit down beside him, take off my gloves and help him unpack the lunch basket. I put two empty melamine plates onto the blanket and Jamie peels back tin foil to reveal ham and pickle sandwiches. He places them onto the plates and then fills two plastic cups with sweet white wine.
We eat and drink, side by side, in blissful silence.
I’m halfway through my second sandwich when Jamie jumps to his feet, startling me. I try not to choke, but my mouth’s full of food and I swallow quickly. I want to ask him whatever’s the matter, but before I get the chance, he picks up the binoculars. I’m busy brushing the crumbs from my fingers when he looks down at me, his eyes sparkling, a huge grin across his face.
“They’re here,” he cries, and offers me his hand.
“Who, the goosanders?” I ask, and strong fingers curl around mine.
“Aye, lassie; come see.”
I jump to my feet and he offers me the binoculars, then points to the other side of the loch. My eyes and fingers take a few seconds to get the image in focus, and sure enough, he’s right. The birds are there, right in front of me. I take a sharp intake of breath. There must be at least a hundred, maybe even two, floating on the top of the water. They’re bobbing about, preening and washing themselves, oblivious to my prying eyes. I watch a few stragglers land, their wings beating against the water passing beneath them, creating a vortex of strong ripples across the surface of the loch.
“Wow, this is truly amazing,” I say, turning my attention back to Jamie. I look down to find him lying on the blanket.
“See, I told ye,” he says, cutting a scone in half and spreading lashings of strawberry jam on both sides. “And I wager ye dinnae ken that these birds nest in trees, either.”
He’s right, I didn’t, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
“Honestly? Is that true, or did you just make it up?”
He laughs, and bites into the scone.
“Aye, they do,” and he swallows. “They build their nests in holes in trees, or even tree stumps.”
“But what if there aren’t any trees? What then?”
“Och, if there’s a problem, they’ll nest on the ground, find a place where there’s enough cover of vegetation.”
I purse my lips together and nod. “So, the bottom line is that they’re really not fussed where they build their nests?” I laugh, and Jamie laughs with me, and I feel there’s a connection between us. I can’t deny there’s something about him that brings out the best in me. I’m sure it’s because he’s so laidback. Then again, perhaps it’s because he’s so approachable. Whatever it is, I like it.
I turn back to the goosanders to watch their escapades until my fingers grow numb with cold.
When I can’t bear it any longer, I drag myself away to sit beside him. He’s had the sense to bring a flask of piping hot coffee, and I’m grateful when he pours me a cup. I sip the sweet liquid and enjoy the sensation as it slides down my throat, but then I notice the sun’s disappearing, that it’s getting much colder.
“So, Sassenach, how long are ye planning on staying with us?”
I shrug. “Oh, I’m not sure, perhaps just a few more days. Why?”
“Och, it’s just that the local pub’s organising a quiz night on Wednesday if ye and Callum wannae come. It’s nothing special, but it beats listening to Alasdair reminisce about his time serving in Sharjah.”
I laugh. “Don’t be so horrible,” I protest, and throw a screwed-up piece of tin foil at him, accidently, hitting him right in the eye.
“Argh,” he cries, covering part of his face and rolling around on the blanket. “That hurt.” I giggle at his schoolboy antics. He’s such an idiot.
“Oh, stop it,” I say when my sides start to hurt from laughing. “You’re being a drama queen.”
He’s still hiding his eye behind his hands and pretending to be in pain. I lunge forward, to try and pull his hands away, to end his silly game, but as soon as I touch him, he jerks back and I lose my balance and fall on top of him. His strong arms enfold me and I end up flat against his chest. I feel his warm breath upon my skin and gaze into a pair of dazzling green eyes, pushing myself closer as the desire to kiss him consumes me. I lick my lips in anticipation and close my eyes.
To my horror, he pushes me away, and I sit bolt upright, feeling my cheeks burn. “Jamie, I’m so sorry. I thought for a second you were Callum.”
Jamie lifts himself onto one elbow and gives me a wide grin.
“Dinnae worry, Maddie. Nae harm done, eh?”
I try to smile, but the corners of my mouth just won’t lift, and I realise there’s this constant ache within my heart that’s quietly killing me. There’s so much I want to say, to explain, but before I get the chance, Jamie glances at his watch.
“Time’s moving on. It’s best we set off for home before it gets dark.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course. Even the goosanders have fallen quiet.”
“Aye, they’ll be heading for their nests, just like we should.”
I avert my gaze and pack away the picnic stuff, too aware that my courage has failed me.
***
As darkness descends, we drive back to the farm. It’s only just after four but already the light’s faded. Neither of us are quite so chatty this time around. I know it’s all my fault. I’m consumed with guilt that I almost, almost kissed Jamie.
A shiver creeps down my spine. All I want is to get away from my brother-in-law as soon as possible. From the corner of my eye I see him peering at me. What if he tells Callum?
We enter the farm via the main gates and Jamie kills the engine as soon as we reach the farmhouse. The moment the vehicle stops, I fling open the passenger door and go to jump out, but then I hesitate and turn back towards him.
“Jamie, about earlier.”
He shakes his head and I notice frown lines crease his forehead.
“Maddie, it’s cool. Ye dinnea do anything wrong, so stop ye worrying.”
I nod and slide out of my seat. A dark cloud’s hanging over my head, but maybe after a goodnight’s sleep it’ll disappear. There’s a bright orange glow from the downstairs windows, which makes the house seem warm and inviting, then a door opens, and the light spills out onto the path, the silhouette of a man blocking the doorway.
“Were you two planning on staying out all night?”
It’s Callum, and there’s an edge to his voice.
“Hi, it’s good to see you, too,” I say lightly, and hurry over to plant a kiss on his lips. There’s warmth in my kiss, but he doesn’t return it. Instead, he stares down at me and I can see his eyes are wide with frustration.
“Whatever’s the matter?”
Callum lets out a huff. “I thought you’d be back hours ago.”
“Really? But you knew we’d be late leaving because of the injured bull.”
“Aye, well, I didn’t expect you to be gone for over four hours. You only went to see a few wild birds. I returned from the market earlier than expected and thought you’d be home.”
I’m exasperated. “Well, I didn’t realise I had a curfew; you should have said.”
Footsteps approach from behind me and Callum glances over my shoulder. His demeanour changes instantly.
“You two had a good time?” he asks his brother.
“Aye, we did,” Jamie replies, “but I think we’re both ready for a wee dram. It’s biting cold out near the water and I cannae feel my toes.”
Both men laugh and Callum stands aside to let me pass.
I go inside while Callum waits for his brother.
“While we were out, Hetty visited and left us some goodies today,” I hear Callum say. “She’s even baked a clootie dumpling.”
“How is she?” I interrupt. “Is she still doing the cleaning and keeping you all up to speed with all the local gossip?”
Jamie takes off his coat and flings it over a hook.
“Aye, that she does, week in, week out, without fail, just like clockwork.”
I hear a squeaky floorboard and then the door leading to the kitchen is flung open and Alasdair comes bundling through.
“Maddie, did ye get the chance to see the goosanders?” he asks, excitedly.
I nod, “Yes, I did, and it was an amazing experience, thank you.”
“Excellent news, then let’s talk more about it over dinner tonight. Shall we say six o’clock?”
“Sure, why not. That gives me plenty of time to have a hot shower and change my clothes.”
“That’s settled, then, but come inside and have a cup of tea by the fire before ye go.”
I smile at him. “Oh, I’d love one. My fingers think they’re falling off with frost bite.”
“Tis a wee bit cold for the English,” he cries and tips me a wink. “You’re lucky it isnae snowing, though.”
I take off my coat, hat and gloves and leave my boots by the kitchen door.
“I hear Hetty’s been to see you today,” I say, going over to the table and lifting the lid on the teapot to check it’s brewed.
“Aye, and a godsend she is, too. She brings us our supplies and gives the place a quick spruce at the same time. What she cannae do with a mop isnae worth knowing.”
I laugh as I gather four china mugs from the cupboard.
After going to the fridge for the milk, I return to find Jamie and Callum already at the table, Alasdair standing by the fire. I pour the tea and offer a drink to each man in turn. Jamie puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a small silver hip flask.
“A wee dram to warm the cockles of yir heart,” he says to me.
I shake my head, but Alasdair and Callum are quick to offer him their cup. He pours a good measure into each.
I turn my attention back to Alasdair.
“So, did Hetty bring you any news from the outside world?” I ask as I sit down and take a sip of hot tea.
“Aye, lass, that she did. Told me young Ally, the vet, is back. She caught sight of her up at farm last week when she visited.”
To my surprise, Callum chokes on his drink.
“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned.
He looks startled. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. It went down the wrong hole.”
My gaze shifts to Jamie. “Ally? She’s the woman I met this morning, right?” and although I’ve directed the question straight at Jamie, it’s Alasdair who replies.
“Aye. Nice looking lassie, clever too. She left a few years ago; sudden it was. I thought she’d met a nice wee man but Hetty says she just couldnae settle.”
I turn towards Callum and notice he’s avoiding my gaze. Minutes later, I finish my tea.
“Okay, boys, I’m off for that hot shower I promised myself.”
I take my empty cup over to the sink, wash it and put it away. All the while, the silence that surrounds me is deafening.
“So, dinners at six o’clock sharp,” I reiterate to granda. He nods. “Okay, see you all then.”