Chapter Forty-Two
Rory
I watched as the dark of night faded into the gray light of dawn. Before long, the sky was light enough for me to see Amelia, curled against me with her head resting on my shoulder, her hand splayed across my chest. The early morning mist sparkled like diamonds in her long hair. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks; her lips curved in a slight smile.
I wondered what she was dreaming about.
After our wild lovemaking session under the aurora in the wee small hours of the night, Amelia had snuggled against me and fallen asleep. I’d thought to carry her into the tent, but she seemed so comfortable in my arms that I didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, I’d pulled up the sleeping bag to cover us both and watched as Mother Nature continued her spectacular light show. When it was over, I tried to sleep, but my mind was spinning. So instead, I’d lain awake for the few hours remaining until dawn, staring at the glittering expanse of night sky above and thinking.
I almost told her I loved her while the aurora danced overhead, when I’d stared into her eyes as her body shuddered around mine and my own body raced toward completion. But I caught myself, burying my face in her shoulder instead.
We’d be finished with the trek in a few hours. I’d have the long drive with her tomorrow, and a night in Glasgow, but then I’d have to let her go. She had a life to get back to across the sea. What if I told her I loved her, and she decided to stay here in Scotland? For me?
How could I let her do that? I was on the road week after week after week, on Skye, or on the West Highland Way, or up on the north coast, or crossing the Great Glen. When I wasn’t doing that, I was taking kids and teens hiking and camping in every corner of the Highlands, or on Orkney, or in the Western Isles.
I couldn’t ask her to give up her job and her life back home for that.
My life didn’t lend itself to long-term relationships—I knew that well enough. But it was a good life. It was lonely sometimes, especially during the downtime of the winter months, when I had too much time on my hands and got tired of my own company. It was physically exhausting, more so if I strained a muscle or if the weather wreaked havoc on the trail, and it could be mentally exhausting when I worked with the teens, many of whom were troubled or had tough home lives that made me remember my own.
Every now and again, when I’d had a particularly trying group or a week of shit weather, I wondered what it would be like to sit at a desk in an office.
But I got to spend the majority of the year outside, exploring the wild beauty of my country and sharing it with others. No office job could ever compare to that.
Maybe Amelia would be okay with my crazy schedule, and maybe it would work for a while. But it would only be a matter of time before she began to resent it, to resent me. Like Emma, she would start to wonder if a lass in one of my groups had caught my attention. Or I would start to wonder whether she’d found someone to keep her company on the long, lonely nights back home.
We both deserved better than that.
So, while my instincts had screamed at me to tell her I loved her last night, I’d held back.
It was for her own good. We’d finish the Skye Trail by midday, spend the next day making our way down to the city. One final night together, and then I’d say goodbye.
It would be the hardest thing I’d had to do since watching them bury Connor.
But there was no other way.
I tucked a strand of hair behind Amelia’s ear, gently tracing her cheekbone with my thumb, then kissed her forehead. She blinked her eyes open and then peered up at me. I leaned down and kissed her lips.
Which took longer than I expected.
“Good morning,” I said when we finally parted. “How’d you sleep?”
“Really well, actually,” she said. “I think you wore me out. I can’t believe I slept outside.” She looked down and tugged up the top of the sleeping bag. “Naked, no less. Carrie will never believe this.”
“Not much of an exhibitionist, are you?”
“Ha. No. Carrie was forever trying to get me to go skinny-dipping with her, and I could never do it.”
“When she wakes up, you should both do it.”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Well if you do, take a picture and send it to me. Otherwise I’ll never believe you did it.”
“What? No! I’m not taking nude photos, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t send them to anyone. That’s how people get in trouble.”
“Maybe I’ll come to Miami, and you can take me skinny-dipping.” The words fell out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. And then I held my breath waiting for her reply.
“I’d like that,” she finally whispered.
We both knew it wouldn’t happen. We were heading into the busiest time of year for me, and it would be months before I could even consider asking Scarlet for time off. And by then, Amelia would be settled into her new job and her new life, and she would have moved on.
But we could hold on to the illusion for a little while longer.
After our last breakfast of porridge, cooked with the last bit of fuel, we broke camp. I took a final look around, my eyes landing on the place where we’d made love under the Northern Lights. I glanced at Amelia, whose gaze was fixed upon the same spot. Our eyes met, and she smiled sadly.
I took her hand, and we started up the trail.