Page 59 of Kindling
“Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just walk back or something.” She wiped her palms on her leggings, making to sit back down.
He didn’t want her to, he realised. Then again, he wouldn’t ask her to come with him. She didn’t need to be dragged into all the drama, not when she was supposed to be here on holiday.
“Unless…” His heart lightened as she rose to full height again. “I can come with you, if you want? Maybe Eiley needs a friend? I don’t want to intrude, though, so just tell me if I’m overstepping.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, car keys already in his hand. “Are you sure? It might be messy.”
“I’m very good with messy. Haven’t you noticed?”
He smiled, though it felt stiff and achy on his face. “I’ll have to pick up Bernard on the way,” he decided, beckoning with his head towards the door. “Are you sure? Final chance to keep your Saturday peaceful.”
“Your definition of peaceful is frightening,” Andy said, closing their laptop and leaning back in their chair. “Just take her, Fraser. We all know you’re joined at the hip.”
He tssked at this, though it was starting to feel quite true. Maybe he shouldn’t be taking her home, shouldn’t let her become a friend to Eiley when she was fragile, and Harper was due to leave. Maybe—
Harper bumped his hip with hers, drawing him out of his sudden panic. “Come on, then.” She met his gaze. “Don’t worry, Fraser. I’m sure she’s going to be fine. She’s a single mum. She can handle anything. Besides, she has you.”
He nodded, swallowing down his fear, then took her hand. After saying goodbye to Andy, they headed to the truck parked out front,buried now among fallen leaves and sycamore seeds.
He opened her door first, then his own, taking a deep breath once the keys were in the ignition.
Harper squeezed his knee. “I’m here, too, okay?”
Emotion took hold of him like an iron vice, then. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his thumbs where tears burned at the corner of his eyes. “Thank you, Harp. Really.”
“Take a minute. Take as long as you need,” she whispered.
He nodded, feeling silly. Feeling unstable. He didn’t know why. He’d done this plenty of times by now. It wasn’t the first time Eiley had been hurt. It wouldn’t be the last. He was called to the house almost on a weekly basis, if not because of her selfish ex, then because one of the kids was sick, or Sky needed extra support, or Mum had a hospital appointment, or the hot water had stopped working again.
He was always needed. He always would be, and he was used to that.
But today, it weighed heavier. Maybe because of how he’d let Andy down yesterday. Maybe because Harper was here, and she saw him, and that made him vulnerable. Maybe because there was always something, and the thought of this happening over and over again suddenly felt more draining than he could put into words.
“I just… I don’t know how to fix this.”
“Of course you don’t. It isn’t your situation to fix.” She said it as though it was a simple fact. “You can only be there for her. That’s all. And I can be there for you.”
He scraped back his hair, bracing his wrists against the steering wheel as he looked out onto the village. It was a busy Saturday afternoon, most likely because the weather was dry for a change. People milled in and out of shops, taking photographs of St. Margaret’s spire and browsing the books in Thorn & Thistle as the sky turned the colour of a dark bruise against the setting sun. Harper should be among them, enjoying herself, not supporting him through a minor meltdown. If she was coming with him, the least he could do is stop grumbling about his problems.
Jaw clenched, he turned on the engine. She leaned back in her chair, but still watched him carefully. As they idled through the shopping streets, he tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “So, you’re helping Andy with marketing. I thought you didn’t like it so much anymore.”
“I like it when it feels important. A local B&B run by one person? I’m sure Andy works hard, but that won’t be enough unless they get the name out there. People need to be able to find it. Everybody relies on technology for that.” Harper tucked her chin into the thick roll neck of her knitted mustard jumper. As much as he admired her usual fashionable get-up, he liked her best the way she was today, makeup-free. Unmasked. At ease.
“Who’d have thought that just a few weeks ago, you were an Airbnber with no small-town values,” he mused, shooting her a dry, shaky grin.
She nudged him in response, tutting. “Clearly, people change.”
“Clearly, they do.” And she had changed him. Too much.
“I could help you, too, you know. With your forestry and handyman stuff, but also… if you decided to start selling your handcrafted work. I could come up with a whole plan, make sure it would take off enough so you can keep at it. I was thinking, if you gave Andy some of the furniture, have it front and centre inside the B&B—”
“I told you, I don’t want that,” he murmured, though something bitter bubbled inside him, making his words taste acrid. Like a lie. He didn’t have the capacity to consider why that might be now, his focus still on Eiley.
“I know, but I was thinking if you had support – you know, the way you support others – then maybe it wouldn’t be so daunting,” she continued. “Your work is beautiful, Fraser. Please don’t keep it in the dark forever.”
“I’ll decide what to do with it when I’m ready.” His knuckles turned white over the wheel. He didn’t want this, not now. It wasn’t the time to be making a show of himself. Who knows what people would think when they found out the fairies came from the local handyman. Plus, his family would only demand to know why he’d been so secretive, and… They had enough to deal with already.
She tapped her thigh, deliberating before she finally admitted defeat. “Will you at least think about it?”
