He’s frowning. “Aye, but it’s still alot. Don’t you get tired?”
Before I can answer, I hear clattering and raised voices from the kitchen. My stomach falls.
Oh God.Alec. I bet he heard us all last night. What is he going to think of me? Technically, I did do what he asked. Sort of. Cameron and Fraser aren’t fighting anymore. I’m not sure he’ll appreciate my methods though.
Fraser’s chest swells with a sigh. “They’re at it early today,” he notes.
“They argue a lot,” I say carefully.
“You noticed?”
“It would be hard not to.” Honestly, the relationship between Alec and Cameron is…weird. They obviously care about each other. I remember Cameron’s hand on Alec’s face when he brought me in from the storm. But they can’t seem to talk without getting mad at each other.
“They’ve been worse since you’ve been here,” Fraser admits.
“Oh no. Is it me?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. Something happened. Five years ago.”
“Ah,” I say when he doesn’t elaborate. “Interesting.” I stretch. “Hmm.”
His mouth quirks. “Want to know the story?”
“I couldn’t possibly ask you togossipabout your friends?—”
“Since you begged, I shall tell you,” he says, pulling me back on his chest. “It might…help you understand them a wee bit better.” He’s silent for a few moments, like he’s trying to find the words. “It was five years ago. Alec was running the farm with his father, who, I will remind you, was an absolute bawbag.”
“What does that mean?”
“Scrotum.”
“Ah, yes.”
He squeezes my hip. “It was the anniversary of Alec’s mum’s death, and his dad was being a real shite. He’d spent the whole day just…going at Alec. Giving him a million things to do and then telling him he’d messed them up. By the end of the day, it was obvious Alec was about to lose his head, so Cameron told him to go down the pub. Alec never skives off, but that night, he was so fed up, he did.”
I nod. Fraser fiddles with a bit of my hair.
“A storm rolled in a few hours later. Bad one. Big enough to fell trees. And Mr Gray decided that he wanted to move the forage harvester Alec left out in the fields. It’s a big machine for cutting crops. Weighs about fifteen tonnes.”
I can see where this is going. “Oh no.”
He nods. “So Alec’s down in the village, planning to crash with Isla overnight. Mr Gray calls him, demanding he come back to help him move the harvester. Alec tells him no, that it’s a suicide mission, and turns off his phone. And Mr Gray, in all his wisdom, goes out and does it himself.”
My mouth falls open. “No.”
“Aye,” he says grimly. “Cameron ran out to help him, but the harvester ended up tipping in the wind. Crushed ’em both.”
I sit up. “Oh my God.”
“By the time Alec got there, Mr Gray was already dead. And Cam was trapped under the machine—his leg was all crunched up. Alec cut his hands to shreds trying to pull it off him.”
I remember the scars on Cameron’s leg last night. The lines crossing Alec’s palms. A shudder runs through me.
Fraser sighs. “Been five years since then. Alec paid for all of Cameron’s surgeries and physios and the like. But Cameron’s leg didn’t heal right. And the longer he’s in pain, the worse Alec feels. Which Cameron hates. It’s driven this wedge between them. Don’t know why they can’t just talk about it.”
“That’s so horrific,” I whisper. “But…it wasn’t Alec’s fault, right?”
“Nah. But he blames himself for everything. Always has.” Fraser traces a finger over my cheek. “Sorry. This is not a fun morning story.”
