Beth smiled faintly. ‘Still, good for you. Most people in Cranley get their exercise through dog walks and pub quizzes.’
‘The quiz was certainly, um, lively,’ he said. ‘I hope you’re feeling better.’
Beth’s eyes flicked towards him then away. ‘I am. Sort of. It’s just—’ She hesitated. ‘Someone I haven’t heard from in a long time got in touch.’
The careful phrasing made him tread softly. ‘A bad kind of hearing from, or a good one?’
‘Complicated,’ she said. ‘He’s my husband. Or was. We’re separated.’
Kieran’s stomach dropped. Then righted itself when she added, ‘We’ve been apart for a while.’
‘Ah,’ he said, too neutrally. Then, before he could stop himself, ‘Did he hurt you?’
Beth gave a half-laugh, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. ‘We hurt each other, I think. It’s … a long story. I moved here to start again. But last night he sent a message.’
‘Saying what?’
‘That he wants to talk.’ She looked down at the water, her voice almost lost to the murmur of the stream. ‘And I don’t know if I can. Or if I should.’
Kieran’s instinct was to make a joke. Something light to deflect what he was feeling. Instead, he heard himself say, ‘If it helps, sometimes the only way to stop a story haunting you is to let it end properly. Even if it hurts.’
Beth’s mouth curved: sad, grateful. ‘That’s surprisingly wise.’
‘Don’t sound so shocked.’
‘No, I just didn’t have you down as the introspective type.’
‘Me neither,’ he admitted. ‘Must be the oxygen deprivation.’
That earned him a soft laugh.
They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching sunlight shatter across the water. Then Beth gestured at herbasket. ‘I was picking wild herbs for tonight’s menu. Want to walk back with me? You look like you’ve earned a cool-down.’
‘Definitely,’ he said, eager for an excuse to stop pretending he was an athlete.
They walked side by side through the lanes, her stride light, his more of a trudge. She talked about food – lemon thyme, trout, how freshness changed everything. He barely heard the details, too busy watching her hands move as she spoke, the way her eyes brightened when she mentioned flavours.
After a pause, she glanced sideways. ‘So, what made you take up running, anyway?’
‘A misguided belief that I could outrun my thoughts,’ he said. ‘Turns out they’ve got more stamina than me.’
Beth smiled. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s brave. Starting again. Running. All of it.’
‘You too,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re doing it too.’
When they reached the pub, Beth turned to him with a faint, knowing smile. ‘Thanks for the walk. And the talk.’
‘Anytime,’ Kieran said. And he meant it.
As she disappeared inside, the sun slipped behind a cloud, and Kieran found himself grinning at nothing.
Maybe he hadn’t come to Cranley by mistake after all.
And maybe – just maybe – running wasn’t such a bad idea.
Especially if it kept leading him back to Beth.
Chapter Twenty-One
