Chapter Fifty-Three
Amelia
“Is this seat taken?” I asked nervously, hoping—praying—that Rory would be happy to see me.
He went still, then slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. They grew wide for a moment, and then he closed them and opened them again, blinking at me as if he’d just awakened from a ten-year slumber.
He stood, his fingers reaching out to touch my hair, running a lock of it through his fingers. His hands cupped my face as lightly as if I were made of crystal and then they slid over my cheekbones and down to my shoulders.
“Are you really here?” he breathed, as if he were afraid if he spoke too loudly, the dream would shatter.
I smiled. “I’m really here.”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, then crushed me to him and lifted me off my feet, kissing me as if his life depended on the air he would steal from my lips.
I twined my fingers in his hair and kissed him back with all the longing I’d built up in the three weeks we’d been apart. His fingers caressed my back, as if he was still trying to prove to himself that I was real.
A lifetime later, he pulled back and gently set me on my feet. “I was going to call you tonight,” he said. “I have a lot to talk to you about. I mean, this is better. Saves me the international charges,” he added with a grin that quickly left his face. “But…what are you doing here?”
“I, um, have a lot to talk to you about, too. Let’s sit.”
Smoothing my skirt under my thighs, I sat on the bench. He dropped down beside me and took my hand, his fingers holding mine as if he couldn’t bear not to touch me.
“So, I got an email from Tommy one night, almost a week ago,” I began, staring at the sun as it started to drop. “It was the best news I’d received since Carrie woke up.”
His fingers paused. “Did he…what did he tell you?”
I pressed my fingers to his mouth. “Let me talk without you interrupting, and you’ll find out, okay?” He nodded, his lips curving slightly. “He told me that Scarlet’s been feeling really swamped lately, that Scotland By Foot has grown pretty fast in the last year or two, and she’s been having a hard time keeping up with the bookings and handling the inquiry emails, while still running support for one trek a week during the busy season. He said that even though she hadn’t specifically mentioned anything to him about hiring someone, he knew I had a background in tourism and you’d told him that I wanted to get a job where I could arrange tours for people. He thought I should email her and send my resume.”
His eyes widened. “Tommy did that?”
“Yeah. I got that email off to her within an hour so she’d see it first thing in the morning. And when I woke up, I had an email from her, asking me to let her know when we might talk on the phone. We spoke that day, and by the end of that conversation, I had a job offer to come work for Scotland By Foot.”
Rory’s whole face lit up. “You got a job with SBF?” he breathed, as if by saying it too loudly, it would all go away.
“At the start, she’d want me to do all the client bookings and handle the emails, and then branch out to visiting and vetting new B&Bs as she expands to adding more treks, which would give her the opportunity to actually guide. And maybe at some point, I could even start training to be a guide, once my knee is back to normal.” I grinned. “I realized I kinda like hiking.”
He smiled back. “I know you did. I could see it in your eyes on those last few days.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I’d sent that email and resume without even thinking twice, but when she actually made me the offer? I freaked out. I immediately went to see Carrie.”
“What did she say?” he asked.
As the sun melted into the loch, I took his hand in mine and told him.
I walked into Carrie’s hospital room like a defendant being told the jury was back with a decision. She started to smile, and then she saw the look on my face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I have to tell you something. I…got a job offer just now. And I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean? What kind of job?”
“Working for Scotland By Foot. The woman who runs it, Scarlet? She’s been swamped lately as the company has grown, and she offered me a job handling the business end of things so she can be out in the field.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “She just emailed you out of the blue to offer you a job?”
I swallowed. “Um, not exactly.” I told her about Tommy’s email. “I just reached out to her, without even thinking about it,” I confessed. “And now I don’t know what to do.”
“Girl, what are you even talking about? You’re going to say yes. Obviously.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Carrie, don’t you understand what it means? The job is in Scotland. I can work from home there, because it’s mostly just computer and phone work. But I need to be in the same time zone. And I need to be there when it’s time to check out the new B&Bs and stuff.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. What would be the point of taking a job with a Scottish company if you weren’t going to be working in Scotland? That’d be like working for Hershey and never being able to sample the goods.”
“But what about Miami? We’re supposed to start there—”
She stared at me. “Are you out of your mind? You’re going to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to the Miami job. Why in hell would you want to go to Miami when you can be in Scotland?”
I didn’t understand why she wasn’t mad. “But we had plans!”
I turned to Rory. “She handed me her phone, which was open to an email.” I took the printed version out of my purse and handed it to him. “Go ahead, read it.”
He unfolded the paper, and I watched him read the words I knew almost verbatim from reading them so many times in the past few days.
To:
From: Carrie Peterson
Sent: Friday, June 2, 2017, 10:15 a.m.
Subject: Amelia and Rory
Dear Tommy,
You don’t know me, but I’m Amelia Benson’s friend, Carrie—you know, the reason Amelia did the Skye Trail? She told me a lot about you, mostly what a helpful, friendly, funny, and all-around great guy you are. (And that you’re really cute, which I was skeptical about until I saw photographic evidence. ;) )
She also told me how you were the captain of Team “Arory” (or is it “Ramelia”?), and that’s why I’m emailing you.
We need to get that ship back on course, Tommy. Amelia is miserable. She talks a good game, about how stoked she is to go to Miami and whatnot, but it’s because it’s what she thinks I want to hear. She feels so guilty about the car accident, about going to Skye in my place, that she’ll set aside her own happiness to make me happy.
But how can I be happy when my best friend is so unhappy?
She misses Scotland, and no hotel job in Miami is going to fix that. More importantly, she misses Rory. So much that it hurts me to see how she lights up when she mentions his name while telling me about the trip, and then to watch that light go out of her when she browses Miami apartments online and tries to sound enthusiastic about it.
I’m obviously speculating, but given how she spoke of Rory, I am pretty confident that he’s just as lost without her.
So, what are we gonna do about it, Tommy? Will you help me?
Write back when you can, or feel free to give me a call at +1-516-555-1784. I do love a Scottish accent…
My best,
Carrie Peterson
To: Carrie Peterson
From: Tommy MacDonald
Sent: Friday, June 2, 1017, 11:30 a.m.
Subject: RE: Amelia and Rory
Hey Carrie,
Nice to e-meet you! I heard a lot about you from Amelia. She didn’t tell me that you were cute, but she did show me your photo, so I came to my own conclusions about that. ;)
With regard to our wayward friends, your timing is LITERALLY perfect. I should be finished with the day’s walk in another hour or so, and will call you after. We have much to discuss.
Looking forward to chatting!
Cheers,
Tommy
Rory read it once, and then read it again. He lowered the paper to his lap and looked up at me incredulously. “Seriously?”
“That’s what I said, after I read it like three times. She said I was her best friend—her sister—and she loved me, but I was being an idiot. Actually, I think she used the word ‘numpty.’ Didn’t I want to work for a cool company in Scotland and be close to the man I love?”
Rory’s hand tightened around mine, his gray-green eyes shining. “And what did you say?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I said yes, I did want to work for a cool company in Scotland and be near the man I love.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said, ‘Then why are we even discussing this? You’re going to take the job, and then I’ll have someone to stay with when I finally get to Scotland. Win-win.’”
I told him the rest.
I opened my mouth to reply, but she held up her free hand. “I’m not done yet. I think we can agree that life is unpredictable, that shit happens when you least expect it, and your life can end in a crunch of metal and glass, or in any number of horrible ways. Right?”
I nodded.
“When you’re offered an opportunity to be with the person you love, you take it,” she continued. “And you live the hell out of your life. Don’t worry about me. It’ll be a while before I’m up and around enough to go anywhere, let alone start a new job. It may be both of us telling Miami thanks, but no thanks. Who knows, maybe they’ll have an opening here in New York. Or maybe Scotland. Or some other cool place. And if not, I’ll find something else when I’m ready.”
I met Rory’s gaze once more, my heart quickening at the hope I saw there. “‘But what if he doesn’t love me, doesn’t want to be with me?’ I asked Carrie. She said, ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out.’ And so here I am.”
“So here you are,” Rory whispered.
The look in his eyes made me bold. “And do you? Love me?”
“So much,” he breathed. “So much that I’ve been empty since you’ve been gone. So much that Scotland hasn’t felt like home without you here. So much that I was going to tell you tonight that I have a job offer as well. In Miami. Working for Gordon Marshall from your trekking group.”
I clutched his hand, my heart pounding. He loved me. He was ready to give up the job he loved, leading hikes all over Scotland, to work in an office in Miami. For me.
“You weren’t really considering it, were you? That job would be the death of you.”
“Not if I could see you every day.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing yet. I wanted to make sure you loved me.”
My heart soaring like the eagles we’d seen on the Ridge, I took his face in my hands and gazed into those luminous eyes. “I do. More than anything,” I said. “And I don’t want you to work in Miami.”
His lips curved in a smile that made my breath catch in my throat. I pressed my lips to both corners of that smile, then twined my fingers in his hair and kissed him, letting all my love shine through.
He pulled me onto his lap and kissed me back just as tenderly, holding me like he’d never let me go.
After a few minutes, we drew apart, both of us breathing hard. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and gazed at me. “I wanted to tell you I loved you so many times, but I knew you had to leave, and I didn’t want to make it harder than it already was.”
“And I wanted to tell you, too, so many times. But I knew I couldn’t stay, and your life was here.” I grinned. “Good thing we had our fairy godmothers looking out for us, huh?”
“Aye, it is.” He glanced down at the paper he’d set on the bench. “In fact, looking at the dates on these emails, I’m pretty sure that Carrie’s email to Tommy came the morning after I told him about the job with Gordon, which goes with what he says about the timing.”
“And the next night is when he emailed me about SBF,” I added.
“It explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s been cagey the last few days—wandering out to take phone calls, preoccupied with his phone. I figured he was just unhappy about my job offer in the States. But I guess he was conspiring with Carrie.”
I nodded. “He was nervous on the drive up from Glasgow today, too. When I asked him why, he told me he’d been meddling quite a bit this past week, and he was afraid you’d be furious with him.”
“I think I’ll forgive him,” he said, kissing me again. When he drew back, he was grinning. “I think I owe him a beer, too, huh?”
“At least one. So do I. But maybe after?”
“After what?”
“After you give me a proper welcome home.”
“So tomorrow, then?”
“Aye, tomorrow,” I said, and pulled him to me once more.