Her long sigh might have been silent, but it made a long steady cloud that gave her away.
“Come on, Matty lass. The fun is over. Time for yer Yeti-man to see ye home.”
The Cairngorms were painfully beautiful.I hadn’t noticed much before since I’d been too busy wallowing to look up from the Ryovan track. But that morning, it took my breath away. Maybe because I would never see a picture of them in the future and not superimpose Cian MacInnis into the scene.
My Yeti-man wore snowshoes. With skis, I had a hard time keeping up with him, even though much of the time, we were headed downhill. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was in a hurry to get rid of me, but then he’d stop, claim to be out of breath, and take the time to kiss me senseless before we got going again.
I should have objected. I knew each kiss would make it harder to walk away from him, but I no longer cared about being sensible. And feeling something deeply wasn’t a sin. If I bawled my eyes out for the next week, or month, or year, so be it.
Silly me. I thought I’d been sad before I got on that plane for Scotland. But now, I wondered if those tears over Nick had contained much emotion in them at all. Had I only been mourning the loss of the restaurant?
I laughed as I kicked my way up an incline.I’m suddenly an expert on the emotional content of tears…
At the top of a hill, Cian stopped and waited for me. I turned my skis and planted my poles, glad for a chance to catch my breath and collect my next kiss. My pounding heart would just have to rest later.
He held up his fur-covered hand and shushed me, then pointed.
Coming from a pass to the left, through a thick mist clinging to the snow-covered ground, a herd of reindeer emerged, moving steadily toward the opposite end of the plateau. The animals walked in a long, single-file line, the lead ones breaking trail through the deep drifts. Their wide hooves sank and lifted in rhythm, while the rest of the herd followed precisely along the newly packed path, each following in the footsteps of the animal ahead.
Not one of them strayed or hesitated—calves stayed close to their mothers. The fog probably made them nervous as they moved in and out of patches. Some beasts were completely surrounded and hidden by the mist, with only their antlers visible as they trooped along. They made no noise as they moved, but together, their hooves crunching through the snow sounded like the murmur of voices in another room, impossible to make out the words. The spray of snow being kicked out of the way was a faint whisper I could only hear if I listened closely.
They passed within fifty yards, a steady stream of gray-brown bodies against the white, orderly as soldiers, yet as wild as mustangs. Cian and I never moved until the last reindeer vanished into the mist to the right. And I thought maybe God was trying to assure me that Cian wasn’t as alone in this cold place as I thought he was.
We moved again, across the reindeer path, and I marveled at how narrow it was after at least a hundred of them had walked along it. A dozen kids would have made a bigger mess.
Half an hour later, we came up to another small rise, and again, Cian waited for me at the top. As far as I was concerned, he was a kiss behind. His five o’clock shadow had grown long past five o’clock, and I wanted to imprint the feel of it into my memory.
But he wasn’t looking for a kiss. He was looking ahead, across a mile of open, flat white fields, the far end of which was lined with low buildings. I came up level with him, and he turned his head to watch my reaction.
“Civilization.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t look like much, does it?”
Knowing I was patronizing him, he ignored my comment and pointed to the left. “I like to stick to that tree line, so as not to draw attention. If ye’d rather go on straight, to save the time, we can bid farewell here.”
“What? You think I can’t get lost between here and there? Because I can.” We both chuckled, but there were already tears in my eyes at the thought of him walking away from me. “Besides, you said you’d introduce me to John. If I strolled in and told him I’d spent the last two days with the Ghost of Glenwhatsit…”
“Glenmore.”
“You think he’d believe me?”
His smile widened. “Like as not. To the trees, then.”
A high-pitched whirring began in the distance, and Cian jumped like he’d been shot. “Hurry now!” He took off for the trees, loping like a nimble giant across the top of the snow, leaving me to catch up.
I kicked with all I had, trying to work up some speed but I’d already worn myself out. I was doing little better than a walkwhen the buzzing engine grew louder. I glanced up to see if it was a drone, but then a snowmobile shot up over the rise a hundred yards behind me, with a couple on the back. When they saw me, they turned in my direction and waved.
I hurried toward them, so they wouldn’t notice Cian’s tracks.
The closer they got, the bigger their grins. At twenty feet away, they stopped and the engine cut.
“Hiya!” The driver lifted his goggles. He was young. “Cross-country, aye? Are ye lost?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Just headed to Aviemore.”
His passenger, a girl, stood up on her footrests and removed her sunglasses, her face stricken. “Ye’re the American!”
Her boyfriend sobered. “Yer name wouldnae be Matty Gaines.”
I panicked. If the whole area had been looking for me, I couldn’t deny who I was. But if I admitted it, they’d expect me to go with them into town. And that meant I’d never get the chance to really say goodbye to Cian!
