Page 56 of Of Heather and Thistle
But she knew one thing—
For now, she was staying.
Chapter 14
The last rays of daylight faded over the hills, swallowing the house in shadow. Heather stiffened, scanning the room.
It had grown too dark.
Shadows stretched in long shapes across the cracked floors, and the faint creaks of the old beams settling in the cool night air set her nerves on edge. She glanced around the room, clutching her bag a little tighter.
Staying here overnight didn’t seem like the wisest choice—at least not yet. She wasn’t ready to sleep in a house with questionable electricity, no central heat, and an undeniable sense of abandonment. It wasn’t fear—just something she needed to ease into. One more night at the inn wouldn’t hurt.
She stepped back into the hallway, carefully locking the door to her mother’s childhood bedroom before heading downstairs. As she passed the grand, decaying staircase, her footsteps echoed in the vast space. The air felt thick—like it had been holding its breath for years, unsure what to do withthe girl standing in its doorway now. Pausing by the front door, she glanced back into the house one last time, feeling the weight of its silence.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she murmured to herself, as though reassuring the house itself—or maybe her mom’s lingering memory.
Heather pulled out her phone, checking the ride service app.
One bar. Barely enough, but she tapped ‘Confirm’ with relief.
She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself, the day’s weight settling into her shoulders. The house loomed behind her, its quiet emptiness pressing down like a sigh.
At last, headlights cut through the dark, bouncing down the uneven dirt road. She felt relieved when a modest sedan rolled to a stop at the gate near the bottom of the drive. The driver, a middle-aged man with short, blonde hair, leaned out the window with a curious expression.
“Are ye Heather Campbell?” he asked in a gruff Scottish accent.
“That’s me,” Heather replied, heading down the drive with her bag in tow. He popped the trunk as she loaded her bag. “Bit of an odd spot out here. What’s a lass like you doing all alone in a place like that?”
Heather hesitated. It was an innocent question, wasn’t it? But something in the way the driver asked it—like he already had an answer in mind—made her stomach twist.
Heather hesitated, glancing back at the shadowy silhouette of Glenoran House. “Family property,” she said vaguely. “Still figuring it out.”
He nodded knowingly as Heather slid into the passengerseat. “Well, if you need a ride back tomorrow, let me know. Not many cars go this way. Name’s Curtis, by the way.”
“Thanks, Curtis,” Heather said, grateful for the kindness. As the car wound toward Thistle Haven Inn, Heather rested her head against the window, watching the rolling hills disappear into the dark. Her thoughts drifted to Glenoran, her mother, and the daunting task of what came next.
* * *
The drive back to the Thistle Haven Inn was quiet, the evening mist softening the Highland landscape.
By the time she arrived, the cozy lights of the inn were glowing warmly through the windows, promising comfort and familiarity.
Heather pushed open the door to the inn and was greeted by the smell of something delicious baking in the kitchen. Claire Kinnaird peeked out from behind the reception desk, her kind face lighting up at the sight of Heather.
“Och, back already?” she asked, smiling warmly. “How was the place, then?” Heather hesitated, giving her a sheepish grin. “It’s…something…” she admitted. “…needs a lot of work. I thought it might be better to clean some stuff up during the day before committing to an overnight stay.”
Claire chuckled knowingly. “Och, that place hasn’t had a proper soul in it for decades. Ye’d be braver than me to stay there at night.” She motioned toward the stairs. “Yer bed’s been made. Go on, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon if you’re hungry.”
Grateful, Heather nodded and made her way up to her room. Byrdie chirped sleepily from her spot on the bed whenshe arrived at her room. “Don’t worry, girl,” she said, stroking her back gently. “We’re sticking with creature comforts tonight.”
After washing up, Heather settled into bed, the warmth of the inn wrapping around her like a cocoon.
With a sigh, she wrestled with the thought of heading downstairs for a bite to eat.
Nope. Too comfy.
Opting out of dinner was the right move. She thought about the house—her house—and all it represented. It felt overwhelming, a weighty blend of excitement and apprehension. As she drifted off to sleep, she decided that tomorrow would be the start of her new beginning. But tonight, she was content to let herself rest and dream of what Glenoran might become.
