Chapter Ten
Over the next few days, life fell into a new and surprising pattern, yet one that felt strangely easy in its familiarity and comfort. Zac spent the days working with Archie on the farm, and Laurel joined them for dinner and an evening of playing cards or board games.
The second night, Archie made a delicious beef stew; the following night they all made homemade pizzas. He taught Zac chess, and Laurel satisfyingly thrashed them both at Ludo, although admittedly Zac won the rematch.
She was enjoying these evenings far too much, she thought as she and Zac drove home one night, four days after he’d started helping Archie out. The easy conversation, the fun banter, the feeling of belonging that was so odd, because if anything, they were three misfits who had been flung together due to circumstance more than design. But it was going to be hard when it all ended, in just a week, if not before then. It was starting to feel normal, when it was anything but.
Despite the days at the farm and the evenings all spent together, Zac still wasn’t talking much to her, although he’d started to relax a little bit, and his phone wasn’t as surgically attached to his hand as it had been before.
In the evenings, when Zac went to check on the animals, Laurel and Archie had had chats about island life, farming stuff, and her job as a copyeditor. It had all been very relaxed and casual, but nice. Really nice. Nicer than anything Laurel had done in quite a while.
The day of the ceilidh, Soha Skyped her again, while Laurel had been catching up on work in a coffee shop in Stromness.
“So how are things in the middle of nowhere?” she asked cheerfully. Laurel glanced around the café, grateful there was only one other customer, and he had headphones on.
“More like the edge of nowhere, but they’re good. Surprisingly good.”
“The nephew isn’t as terrible as he first seemed?”
“He was never terrible,” Laurel protested, feeling a surge of loyalty for both Abby and Zac. “Misunderstood, maybe. Very misunderstood. He hasn’t had an easy time of it.”
“Neither have you.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.”
“So what’s changed?” Soha asked, and Laurel explained about Archie and how Zac was helping on his farm.
“Seriously? The sexy farmer saves the day?”
Laurel nearly choked on her mouthful of tea. “He’s not sexy.” That was about the last word she’d associate with Archie, with his sticky-up hair and holey jumpers, his craggy face and creased eyes, although they were a lovely shade of blue…
“What is he, then?” Soha asked.
Laurel paused as she recalled the evenings spent in Archie’s cosy kitchen, the heart-to-hearts she’d had with him that had felt both weird and natural. “He’s kind,” she said at last. “He’s very kind.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” Soha replied, sounding dubious. “But at least he keeps the nephew out of your hair?”
“Yes, although I miss him a bit, actually.” Four days of alone time had been plenty, Laurel was finding. She’d bought all her Christmas presents, caught up on work, and baked more Christmas treats than she or Zac or even Archie could possibly eat.
She’d even had time to visit some of Orkney’s sights—the ruins of the prehistoric village, Skara Brae, and the mysterious Standing Stones of Stenness, an ancient circle of tall, thin slabs with angled edges that stood guard over the western part of the island.
“Just one more week, right?” Soha said with a rueful smile. “I miss you.”
/> “I miss you, too.” And yet, to her surprise, Laurel realised she wasn’t missing her life in York nearly as much as she had been, back in London. The thought of leaving Orkney in just a little over a week—after New Year’s—felt like a wrench, which was somewhat ridiculous, she knew, and yet still was.
After finishing her chat with Soha, Laurel decided to head back to Bayview Cottage to get ready for the evening. She’d agreed to bring dinner over to Archie’s, but she and Zac would be leaving after they ate, for the ceilidh in Stromness.
She hadn’t told Archie their plans, and she’d dithered about inviting him along, but something in her had hesitated, and she didn’t even know what or why. Was it because she didn’t want it to seem like she was asking Archie out or something ridiculous like that, or because she wanted some time alone with Zac? Or something else? Laurel had no idea. Her thoughts were the mental equivalent of a dog chasing its own tail.
As it turned out, the whole issue was a nonstarter, because when she got to the farm and explained that they’d have to leave right after supper, Archie nodded in his easy way.
“I do, as well, so that’s fine.”
“Oh, okay,” Laurel said, slightly disconcerted. “Well, I hope you’re doing something fun.”
“Oh, aye, taking my dad out.” He smiled. “He likes a spin around town now and again.”
“That’s nice.” Laurel felt both strangely disappointed and relieved that she hadn’t asked him to come with them to the ceilidh; he hadn’t even asked what her plans were. Well, that was fine. He’d never been the nosy type, after all.