“Thanks,” she says and then turns to look out over the hill we’ve just climbed.
Green surrounds the panoramic landscape, peaks and valleys covered in freshly bloomed purple heather. The rich blue sky is dotted with puffy white clouds, though darker ones lurk in the distance, indicating an impending storm. I’ll need to keep an eye on that. A light wind picks up, swirling around us, causing her ponytail to whip in front of me and offering a brief cool-off from our steep ascent.
“Wow, it’s gorgeous,” she says, hands on her hips as she peers down the hill. “I can’t believe we climbed that.”
I’m fascinated with her reaction as she takes in the rolling scenery sprawled out in front of us. There’s something to be said about catching someone’s reaction when they experience my homeland for the first time.
Awe.
Complete awe.
I glance out toward the loch and the valley, and I have to be grateful in this moment. I’ve trained myself to climb this hill and to be grateful rather than resentful. I might not be on the path I planned for myself, but I have to appreciate the air I breathe, the heartbeat in my chest, and the chance to keep taking one step at a time.
When Bonnie turns around, her brow knits together. “Where did everyone go?”
I look behind me, only to find our friends gone. “My guess, exploring.” I nod toward the castle ruins, about one hundred feet from the actual footpath. “Want to check it out?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I lead her toward the front of the castle, where most of the stone is still intact. Three of the four walls are partially standing, the crumbling stone now halfway buried under the grass and soil around the base. Any wood that was used for the door or architecture is long gone, and in its place is a faint resemblance of a castle with an arch in the front, moss climbing up the sides, and a ceiling open to the sky.
“Did a king and queen use to live here?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Nay, laird and lady. They occupied the castle, but when the South came to attack Corsekelly, they fled and never returned.”
“Was that when Fergus’s ancestor alerted the town?”
I nod. “Yes. The town was burned down as well as the castle. The southerners didn’t find the land worthy of their time and moved on. Neither did the laird and the lady, and they abandoned the place after seeing the ruined town. But to the townspeople, this was home, so they came back and rebuilt.”
We walk through the stone-arch entrance and past a few fallen stones covered by grass and moss. Dakota and Isla are off to the right, their voices trailing softly, while Lachlan and Leith are performing their typical routine whenever we come up here. A boulder sits behind the ruins, about five feet wide and six feet tall. They compete to see who can scale it the fastest. They’ve shot an entire video on it.
Fucking eejits.
The clouds overhead block the sun as the wind picks up. Just as I thought: a storm is coming. I glance over my shoulder and take in the distance, trying to calculate the kind of time we have left up here. A shiver of fear climbs up the back of my neck at those dark clouds. Memories flash before me.
Painful memories.
Life-altering memories.
“I can’t imagine how they wouldn’t want to come back to this. It’s beautiful,” Bonnie says, knocking me out of my revelry.
“Sometimes people can’t see the value in what’s standing right in front of them,” I say, and her eyes flash to mine.
The smallest of smirks pulls on the corner of her lips. “Are you saying I don’t value you, Rowan?”
“Nay.” I shake my head.
“Hmm, I think you are. And you know, it’s been nice not fighting with you.”
“It’s been okay,” I tease, and she bumps her shoulder against mine, pulling me all the way back into the present.
“Admit it, I’m not as bad as you thought I was.”
“I never thought you were bad—just stubborn and far too talkative.”
“Not all of us want to communicate like cavemen,” she counters, working her way through the ruins. I take a moment to admire her. Her hand trails over the mossy stone, and a smile lifts up the corners of her mouth. Hell, she truly is beautiful, and that smile, when it’s directed at me, makes my stomach dance with nerves. I can’t remember the last time I had that feeling. If ever.
“I save my words—makes a bigger impact.”
“Makes you seem like an asshole.” I just shrug in response, and she rolls her eyes. “Tell me, how many times have you been up here?”