Just Rose

Rose pushed the damp tendrils of hair from her eyes; sweat running down her forehead and dripping along her nose every time she looked downwards. She was physically fatigued, her denim shorts leaving her legs exposed and burning on the hot paving stones, but her determination wouldn't let her give up on the torturous task at hand. The weeds and paving stones had ruined her manicure and her hands felt like sandpaper. She had made a huge start on the mammoth chore and wasn't about to give up now. If anything, Rose was a stubborn woman when her mind was on a task.

Looking up, she could feel the sun burning her already tender face and naked shoulders, exposed by the flimsy white vest top she was wearing. The sun had climbed to the highest point of the day and was mercilessly trying to cook her. Trying was an understatement! Her hot red shoulders were a sure sign it was succeeding. Arching her back, she stopped for a moment, looking at the fluffy cloud in the clear blue sky and contemplated a little break until the heat started to cool down. That way she could get some relief from its beating rays.

Leaning back on her haunches, she looked around the wild overgrown jungle she now called her garden with a heavy sigh; she had managed to clear about four feet of the path from her chipped and faded once bright red door. It was a start, a major improvement at least; She would now be able to come and go through the door without fighting with the plants around her ankles. She only had another two feet until the rickety little gate was clear, and that meant a leisurely walk from the gate to the door; unlike the day she arrived. That day had almost been like an Indiana Jones manoeuvre to get through the wilds and into the cottage.

Her mobile phone began to ring in her back pocket, reaching back she slid it out to answer, her mother smiling back at her from the screen photo, staring up at her in all her beautiful glory. A feeling of warm affection spreading through her stomach.

“Hi Mum.” She smiled and got up on her knees to stretch out lazily, leaning back and sliding to lay flat on the scorching stone path. An impromptu break had been decided for her.

“Hi honey, I hope you don't mind me calling darling? Just checking up to see how you're settling in. We haven't heard from you since your first day there.” Her mother's warm tone made her feel happy and a little bit guilty.

“Sorry Mum, I've been so busy; this cottage had such a lot of cleaning and advertising, it was a bit of a mess.” She admitted, straining her back to get the kinks out and tipping her head back to feel the sun on her neck and exposed cleavage, both had been neglected when hunched over.

“That bad? It was left all boarded up and packed... Did she not have a caretaker keeping it habitable?” Her mum sounded confused about the state in which Rose had found the cottage.

“Yes; someone had been doing repairs and such, but the grounds are wild, the interior a sea of canvas sheets and the place just smelled of damp and had about three inches of dust.” Rose glanced up at the window from her crazy angle, seeing Muffin, her fluffy white Chihuahua watching her quizzically from his perch on the wooden ledge. He was dying to get out, but she knew he would just run off into the unfamiliar surroundings if she let him loose.

“Olivia would've been upset to know it had become so unloved.” Her mother whispered tearfully; Rose felt the same tug of emotion at her aunt's name. A sunken ball of heaviness stopped her thoughts and forced her to push her aunt from her mind's eye, bringing her back to the present. She was getting good at dismissing her grief whenever Olivia's name arose.

“I know Mum... It wasn't exactly the cottage of my childhood memories... Colourful and homely it was not; so many memories of being here with her, only to be faced with an almost derelict shell.” Rose picked at her nail with her thumb in distraction. She always found it hard talking to her mother about Olivia, in any way.

“I guess not living there for the last eight years took its toll... She was happy in Shropshire though, with George. I think she missed the cottage, but she had found a new home.” Her mother's wistful tone carried a melancholy through Rose's stomach, she shook it off with a sigh and tried to refocus on the sunny surroundings instead.

“She always loved this place as much as I did; I guess it's why she left it to me in her will.” Rose smiled to herself at the touching legacy her Aunt had left her. What that had meant to her.

“So, what are you doing today, Darling?” Her mother changed the subject quickly, feeling that same pang of loss and heartbreak and eager to brighten the mood. It was still too soon; even after eighteen months of life without her, both women getting so good at pushing it down and misdirecting when it got too painful.

“Gardening...With a spoon.” Rose laughed, and her mother followed, she had never been the one with green fingers in the family, and this only proved it. “I'm almost done. The house is habitable, she left almost all the furniture behind. I have my studio set up ready to work and well, Muffin, seems to love taking walks in the surrounding rural emptiness.” She sounded more positive than she felt today. She didn't want to admit that she still had so much more to do and hadn't left the cottage in the two weeks here, due to endless cleaning of the two-bed, one-story thatched roof cottage.

So much for a fresh start and new friends!

So far it had been a new life as a recluse, in a stinky musty cottage with endless manual labour.

“So, you're settling in well then? Do you regret leaving London to go back to the highlands?” Her mum sounded wary, concerned almost.

Rose had always followed her own heart impulsively, ever since she was a child, and now coming here and leaving everything behind her. All her life she had been fiercely independent.

“Not even a little bit.” She assured her, and it was true, she hadn't even thought of her six years in the big city since her arrival. She had always felt there was something more out there for her in the world that London hadn't given her. It was as though she was holding her breath, waiting for that moment of clarity as to where her next steps were to be taken. Holding on, treading water, rather than just living and moving forward until the elusive something better came along. The cottage had been that chance for her.

“I'm glad you decided not to sell it Rose, Olivia would be so happy to know you've decided to make it your home... Much like she did at your age and she was really happy there, Darling.” The uplifted tone in her mother's voice made Rose feel better. Confirmation that she had made the right choice coming here, although she had never needed it, she knew it in herself that this place was the key to a her own happy ever after.

“I always had really good times here to Mum, with her... Painting and drawing and just enjoying this crazy, small town, and its quirky inhabitants. I needed a fresh start; my life was becoming so stale.” Rose flipped onto her stomach, her fingers working into the edge of the overgrown lawn and twisting stems distractedly.

“Rose, you've always been my baby, but, out of the three of you, you were the one who was most self-sufficient, who followed the beat of her own drum... Olivia washed off on you so much in your young life. I guess because you were her only niece and she couldn't have a child of her own. You were like a daughter to her too and you make me so proud, I love you Darling.” The emotion in her mother's voice was raw, her mother obviously just wanted to get it out there, between them. An acknowledgement that dismissing her aunts name in conversation was not because they didn't miss or love her. It was because it was still so hard to accept she was gone.

“I love you too Mum. Look I really should go, I'm starting to burn, and I think Muffin is crossing his legs, he needs out.” Rose didn't really want to end the call, but her heart ache was becoming a little too prominent, she didn't want to upset her mother more by asking her to stop talking about Olivia.

They said their goodbyes and she hung up the phone quickly, sighing to herself before turning, rolling to her knees to get up from the ground. She was about to head into the cottage when the sound of Tyree on the gravel behind her alerted her to a visitor and halted her in her tracks.

Turning to see the small red post van approaching she passed on her friendly smile, although he came daily they had never actually met as he usually posted letters through the slot while she was still inside cleaning and fixing up her new abode. Today she had been up and outside early to get some much-needed sun and it was about time she met her mailman.

As soon as the van pulled near, it parked by her rickety gate and she was faced with a little, old, red-cheeked man, with white receding hair and a smart royal mail uniform in navy blue. As he rounded his van with a handful of letters he smiled her way with a devilish twinkle in his merry face.

“Hello my dear. How are you? So nice to see what you look like at last.” He almost gushed at her when she straightened herself and tried to smooth down her dishevelled, grubby clothes. Rose extended her hand to meet his outstretched palm as he pushed mail under his armpit to shake it.

“Hi there, I'm fine, thanks. Yes, all moved in and settling well, now I have the place cleaned up a bit more.” Rose beamed at the friendly face, she had walked halfway down the path to meet the small man, who was now retrieving her post and taking the letters he was holding to her, she noted he had another in his right hand that he seemed to be holding back.

“Well my dear, there's been a lot of talk, you know...At the church!

All about our new inhabitant and the lack of your presence in town; will be nice to tell them all it's a very pretty young lady.” He continued smiling her way.

“Be away with you now...” She giggled at his obvious charm. “Young maybe, not sure about the very pretty!” She gushed and decided she liked this man, there was something familiar about him in a very genteel way.

“Oh, sweetish now lassie, take a compliment! Here, I have something extra for you... Mr. Munro has asked me to deliver this here personally.” He held out the long golden envelope in his other hand towards her briskly, extending it to Rose, who took it politely with a smile.

“Thank you.” She took the long, smooth envelope, still frowning and still confused; the look all over her face.

“It's an invitation to the annual charity dance.” he said as if in answer to her look. “It's time they all met our newest community member.” His smile was genuine and bright and Rose felt herself smiling back.

“Well, thank you, Mr.” Rose lifted eyebrows towards him, to encourage a name at least, if she was going to see him frequently then a name would be nice.

“Oh Hen, it's Tommy. Call me Tommy. I'm the caretaker for the big house as well as the village postie... Well, the misses and I, we take care of the repairs like... And I'm the one who was patching up this place in Miss Olivia's absence.” He patted the gate frame affectionately. The mention of her name caused a saddened look on both of their faces and he bowed his head. Rose couldn't help but notice the genuine reaction, guessing right that he’d known her aunt well and it explained the familial to her.

“Well, thank you so much! It means a lot to me that you cared for this place... She was my aunt... I used to come here a lot in the summers. Did you know her well?” Rose said gently, curious as to whether she had previously known this fellow in her childhood, even though her gut told her so.

“Oh, my goodness! Miss Rose? Little Miss Rose Turner? You know I thought you looked a lot like Miss Olivia when you opened the door, and now you say it! Damn, I see it!” He was almost jumping on the spot, pumping her hand enthusiastically again, his little red cheeks now overtaking his whole face. “Same exotic beauty she had, and those dark brown eyes!”

“I am yes, I'm sorry I don't...” She was trying to get a word in edgeways, pulling her hand free from his hot embrace but his renewed energetic state had him cutting in over her.

“Of course, you won't remember me! You were such a wee thing, I never really saw much of you; just the odd glimpse in passing. The wife though, she used to bring you her jam tarts, because you had a sweet tooth and always gave her such a warm welcome.” As soon as he said it, the memory in Rose's head was jarred to the forefront. A pleasant round lady who always brought her tissue paper wrapped confectioneries, whenever she had been here for holiday.

“Oh yes, I do remember her. And those tarts! Of course, I remember her! ... Alice was her name, I'm sure, right? ... It's such a small world, isn't it?” Rose could see his smile widening to a grin, obvious devotion to his wife and confirming her memory was accurate.

“Yes! It's Alice and it really is, I can't tell you how made up I am that Olivia's niece is our new member. We were all worried that some American had moved in as there's been talk, you know? Of a Yank around here.” He leaned in with a whispered frown as though spies could possibly here him insulting an American.

Rose laughed, knowing only too well the small-town mentality on newcomers, especially those they classed as foreign. Like children whispering in fear of a strange intruder to their lands. She shook her head and beamed at him a little more.

“Well can you tell her that I said hello. And, I remember her tarts, and cakes, so fondly.” Rose was feeling more relaxed in the presence of this man. Somehow, she knew this is what she had wanted, a reminder of the people she would soon get to know. Olivia's people and the reason she had always felt so at home here.

“I shall my lovely girl; now you promise me you will get yourself into town and start mingling. There's an away lot of people eager to meet you and today is the church book sale. Prime sunny day for a bit of introducing, if you know what I mean.” He winked at her knowingly and gave her shoulder an affectionate pat.

“I suppose you're right, I've been camped up here long enough. A drive into town might be a good idea.” She gratefully smiled back at him, the sudden longing for more human companionship, now she had a taste of it.

“I'm guessing you're here on your own, seeing as there's no man sorting this mess out for you Hen?” He was now frowning at her with a lot of fatherly concern, a lot like her own dad used to display. Rose sighed down the giggle once more.

“I have my little dog with me, but no man. Completely single I'm afraid.” She couldn't help but smile at this, knowing how old fashioned this place was and it's view on unmarried young girls living alone. Soon she would have half the town trying to mother her.

“Well, that's a shame, but I guess it may be a good thing too.” He winked cheekily. “I hear Rob's available nowadays and quite a catch according to all the town women.” Winking her way, looking at the watch on his wrist and sighing. Rose was trying to ignore his imminent matchmaking, as really, love was not on her agenda anytime soon and for all she knew the guy Rob could be horrendous.

“I'm sure he is really nice; I will definitely check out the book sale in town.” She was now walking him back to his parked van via her open gate, dismissing his suggestion as easily as she could. No matchmaking for her.

Hell no!

“Yes, make sure you do Lassie, will be nice to get some of the fellows up here to sort this out for you. This is a man's work, not for someone as dainty as you. I'll talk to Rob and see if the gardeners will come over for you and sort it out.” He had now left the garden and paused to think about his offer, but Rose was quick to refuse.

“It's fine, really, I'm sure your friend Rob has other things on his plate, I'll just look into hiring a gardener from town if it gets too much for me. I am more than capable of manual labour honestly.” Rose had always been someone capable of doing things herself and even though she was ultimately turning down his offer, she didn't relish doing much more of this on her own.

“Rob is the laird, he oversees wee things like this, to keep the town happy and beautiful; he has a crew of full-time gardeners for the grounds and would take a half day to do this. Let me talk to him.” He gave her another affectionate beaming smile and all she could do was smile back.

Setting me up with an old man Tommy? Tut Tut!

Rose had no intention of being harpooned into a date with some aging landowner, she had met the Laird in visits as a child and was pretty sure even then he had been married with children. Not her cup of tea at all. But then tastes among church going older women we're bound to be completely out of whack with the tastes of a twenty-eight -year-old girl from Edinburgh.

“Well thank you anyway, don't go out of your way.” She was trying to thank him, but he was already waving her off with a shaking head, which meant he was ignoring her refusals. He slid into his little van and with a beep of the horn pulled out to U-turn and left with another wave out of his side window.

Rose waved back, a feeling of complete deflation running over her now she had returned to rural silence. She hadn't minded the quiet and peace the last couple of weeks, but now she was craving people after that interaction. She was intrigued about this dance too and she was not about to go to a ball, in however many weeks, knowing not a soul of her new community.

Rose turned back to the cottage and pushed open the door, walking inside just as Muffin peaked out to check all was clear, before snorting with a nose in the air as though he had personally chased off the visitor. He turned his little white bushy butt and trotted back off to her room, lately he’d been hoarding bones under her bed and loved nothing more than to lay in the dark underneath and chew on his prized possessions.

Moving further inside, after she closed the door, she pulled open the long envelope, dumping her other mail on the table in the hall and revealing a cream, elegant invitation with gold and brown scroll. It was announcing the event at Munro manor and was very classy. She frowned at the name Robert Munro under the Laird title and sighed, hoping to god the matchmaking wouldn't continue at a public event as she really had no desire to date an older man at all, and judging by memory this one had to be in his late sixties by now.

The event was to raise funds for a local charity, they wanted to help build a new wing on the hospital and extend the children's ward to include long term care rooms for children with more serious illnesses. How could Rose refuse that?

She put it on the top of the fridge, lightly running her fingers over the luxurious paper and already mentally going through the dresses in her wardrobe. She had never been to a dance that was so formal sounding before; she wondered if she would have anything at all to wear that wouldn't look out of place in that big house.

She picked up a mirror and looked over her appearance almost automatically, while still mulling it over and shook her head. Sweaty and mucky, dirty fingernails and hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard mess.

This wouldn't do for a town trip.

She turned, dropping the mirror and headed to the bathroom to run a bubble bath in a bid to remove the sweaty smell of desperation. A little spruce up and a trip to town to meet her new neighbors would help. If she played it cool and mingled, then they might not even notice that she was trying to find herself some new friends before it became glaringly obvious that she had none.

You know, make the first move, meet the locals. No longer be the stranger at the dance, but someone familiar. Less likely to get stared at.

Her internal pep talk was helping to quell the tight knot of apprehension at putting herself out there for the first time in years, hopefully by the time she came home it would have no need to even exist.

After her long soak in the tub she opened her wardrobe to put on a dress. It was proving to be a gloriously sunny day and she felt like a town book sale demanded she made a little more effort with her appearance, after all, her community were getting the first glimpses of the 'outsider'. She had been here a couple weeks, cooped up in this cottage, surrounded by the mess and eating microwave food and oven meals. A trip to suss out the local shops was not a bad idea, she could pick up something fresh, maybe even some cakes and take Muffin for a stroll beyond the gravel road that led out onto the main road from her own tree covered nook.

Pulling out a fitted baby pink sundress which flared out from the waist and brushed her knees, she slid her feet into matching flat pumps and brushed out her long dark hair, pinning it up the back of her head loosely, so tendrils fell around her face. Her skin had tanned to a lovely shade from all the garden work the last couple of days and she applied minimum make up. A spritz of her favourite perfume, a quick glance in the mirror to approve how she looked with a satisfied nod.

She grabbed a cream-coloured canvas shoulder bag to throw her purse in and girly essentials, like strawberry lip balm and sunscreen spray. She picked up her baby pink framed sunglasses, Audrey Hepburn style, and picked up Muffin and his leash.

Ready to rumble!

Rose was singing to herself tunelessly when she swept out to her car, with dog in tow.

Her little pink mini shone in the sunlight in front of the cottage, relieved to be free of both boxes and roof rack and crying out to be driven. Lovely and clean from her morning washing and polishing it days before. Rose had always had a pink obsession, since childhood, always obsessed with all things pink, girly and sparkly. Her car had been her one indulgence in London, going for a baby pink, tiny, car that suited her girly - All things cute! Obsession. She had hated that every male she had dated criticized it and it was partially why none of them made it beyond two weeks with her.

Blaring the summer hits CD, she pulled out with Muffin in the passenger seat and headed along the road; pulling out into the main road and reaching speed quickly, she was singing and smiling at how free she felt, Heisenberg by this impromptu outing and the glorious sunshine which was not typical for Scotland this early in the summer. It was truly shaping up to be a wonderful day.

Out of nowhere, the nose of a black car poked out in front of her from the tree edged hedge way, causing her to swerve and scream as she tried to hit the brakes in alarm. Her car skidded halfway across the road with an almighty screech before slamming to a halt and Rose fell forward on her steering wheel, trying to catch her breath; sure, she had just suffered a major heart attack.

Grabbing at Muffin to feel he was still in one piece, her hands began shaking violently and her heart pounded through her chest; trying to keep her head on the wheel to steady her breathing and calm her nerves, she could feel her rage rising.

Who in the actual hell? What the actual f.

Her car door was ripped open from beside her, causing her to snap up and around and glare angrily into the steel-coloured eyes facing her, which had suddenly appeared a little too closely.

“Are you o...” A smooth and deep voice that sounded genuinely concerned tried to infiltrate her red haze, but she had already hit maximum rage.

“What in the actual hell are you doing?” She screeched at the face before her, not really taking in the jet-black hair, tanned skin or intense Frey eyes belonging to the tall stranger. Ordinarily this kind of sexy would have put Rose in a slump of panting hormones but Rose just saw red!

“You could have killed me! Are you aware that road is a sixty? You pulled out into traffic on a god damn sixty!” She pulled herself out of her seat, releasing her belt to square her small five feet four to the huge six-foot frame before her. Anger searing her every nerve at the sheer stupidity of the man. He quickly stood back, looking almost shocked as she continued to yell at him about his idiotic driving manoeuvre with hands firmly on her hips and letting fiery Rose loose.

“Whoa there Penelope!” Splaying his hands in defence as he tried to calm her rant. “Look, I'm sorry! I'm sure I got as much of a shock as you! Most folks know how bad the view is for me coming out and cross to the other side to pass the manor opening!” He was defensively moving away from Rose as she continued to wave her hands about, cursing at him about recklessness and moronic men with stupidly fast and flashy cars, Rose was on a roll. She stopped suddenly, practising something he had said.

“Who the hell is Penelope?” She blinked in confused fury, but he only laughed at her sudden change in persona, then tried to smother it with a cough.

Smooth move mister! Asshole. God, You're Hot!

Rose had only just seemed to notice this little fact, now that she was inches from him.

His whole shocked manner seemed to do a sudden flip into smiling, good humored, if not a little embarrassed, but Rose was beyond oblivious in her mental state.

“You! Sorry, it's just... Pink car... Pink dress... Fiery little lady who comes out like a bat out of hell, like she's about to rip my head off...” The handsome stranger stood with hands up defensively, smiling at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world to everyone except her. Rose stood motionless. Carelessness and confusion all over her face, which only added to her internal irritation at his far too good-looking smugness.

“Penelope Pit stop from wacky races?” He tried again to get her brain to connect to whatever the hell he was talking about. “Look never mind. It's just, that's what I thought when I opened your door.” He was laughing now, in a rather deep and husky way which only enraged her more and brought out another bought of fury.

“Screw you and your stupid wacky dishwater's! Next time watch where you're going, asshole! Or next time I won't swerve!” She turned and threw herself back into her car in the most unladylike manner, attempting to grab her door, so she could dramatically slam it. All previous ounces of rage reconnected with her inner diva, but he grabbed it first.

“Allow me.” He slammed it shut with the force of a guy who had reconnected with anger. The humour absent from his face and replaced with “I'm pissed off, lady.” Their eyes glinted at one another angrily, fire meeting fire. Sparks igniting in the air around them and almost crackling with the collision.

Rose didn't wait for any further conversation, putting metal to the floor she sped off without any hesitation, almost taking him out with her wing mirror in the process and giving zero cares about it.

Rose wasn't sure why this guy had invoked such a furious response, but all she wanted was to put a huge sea of distance between her and that smug laugh and get rid of the ball of internal anger writhing inside of her. She could see the arrogant sod in her mirror, shaking his head after her, watching her drive off before walking back to his flashy black car and sliding back in with the grace of a cougar.

“Asshole!” She screeched loudly, angered at the sheer effortless grace the idiot was displaying.

Muffin was looking at her with his wide, wise eyes, almost telling her she had simply lost the plot.

“Well, he is! Mr., I'm so good looking with my big muscles and sports car and expensive clothes. So Mr. smooth that I think I can give you a cute pet name and you forget I almost killed you!” She slapped her wheel, eyes darting from the road to rear view mirror manically as she tried not to cause further accident with stupid driving.

“Fuck you! ...Ow, that actually hurt.” She lifted her fingers to her mouth and blew them gently in a bid to soothe the burning self-inflicted pain, releasing some of her tension as she did so. That 'almost” crash had given her a massive fright and her reactions since had been some sort of delayed mental breakdown, brought on by a near death experience. Being confronted by a guy who was far too handsome for an early morning rural drive had just added to her extreme reaction.

I mean who the hell was he? Wearing designer clothes and a flashy car and looking a little too suave for the highlands. Men like him were normally arrogant Londoners, and she had met enough of them to last a lifetime.

Pushing that irritatingly flawless face out of her mind's eye, she suddenly felt remorseful for swearing angrily in front of Muffin and sat back in her chair, trying to release the tightness of her muscles. Flexing her shoulders and tilting her head from side to side to flex her neck. Slow steady and calming breaths and internal chanting to cool her jets.

The black sports car appeared in her rear-view mirror, coming up behind her fast and she instantly tensed back up, teeth gritting and eyes narrowing angrily. Putting the foot down, she sped away from him before reaching the sign for the town and slowing back down again as she passed it. Completely pointless, but satisfying to say the least, riled by the way this man made her feel. Throwing daggers from her eyes in the mirror, she slowed to thirty and meandered through town looking for a car park as the car behind her turned off at the huge museum; she sighed with relief at his departure.

Hot or not, I don't need you behind me today!

“Asshole.” She muttered to no one in particular and hit the indicator to turn into a big half empty car park. Within minutes Rose found a space easily and expertly deposited her car, latching Muffins lead on and exiting gracefully with a much sunnier disposition.

Although the town was bustling with pedestrians, it seemed most came via a little free bus from surrounding areas and not many drove. The streets were quiet from traffic and felt peaceful, despite the people milling around. Wandering about, she soon managed to navigate her surroundings, quaint little shops ranging from the normal grocery stores to little cute boutiques, home decor, crafts and tourist shops. Several cafes and a huge bakery shop that sat very close to the car park she had used.

It was a pretty and picturesque little town, lots of barrels filled with flowers and park benches to pretty it up and lots of potted trees and quaint old-fashioned streetlamps. It was more beautiful than even her memories and she could see the appeal for tourists. This was proper highland charm right here.

She decided to browse the shops first, before going in pursuit of the church she had yet to see, buying the odd necessity and really getting a feel for the place. Rose was happy to find, that although it wasn't exactly the small town of her childhood memories, it was enough unchanged that she got a familiar tug of emotion deep in the pit of her stomach; just the same. This had been Olivia's favourite place, she would have loved to see that it was thriving but still held all the same charm as before, as though caught in a time warp.

After successfully not finding the church in the small town and seeing a lack of mulling locals Rose decided to head to the coffee shop, situated in the bakery to rest her weary feet. It wasn't sign posted and there were no obvious roofs rising above the rest to indicate where the church would be. She had put Muffin back in the car with a bowl of water, a new bone, the windows opened and the radio on, before coming to get something to eat and ask for directions.

She was sure that in this little place, her car and the dog, would be safe from a break in. Besides, her alarm was loud and immobility her car easily and although Muffin wasn't much of a guard dog, he did have this incredibly scary toothy face he pulled when he was frightened and tried his version of a broken growl. If nothing more, it would scare away any lingerers; It did make him look a little rabid and possibly mentally unhinged.

As soon as she opened the door, the smell of newly baked bread and fancies hit her like a warm hug. She wanted to fall into that smell, it was so heavenly and had memories flooding back and filling her up with so much warmth, chasing away the last ounces of anger. She could almost feel herself transported back to her childhood and eagerly swept in to see if they still stocked her favourite cakes.

The tables were almost all empty with the odd couple or group, sitting far apart, quietly chatting and oblivious to her entrance. There was a relaxed, friendly atmosphere, despite being a complete stranger here and she felt better that no one was openly staring and pointing as she had feared.

The girl behind the counter, dressed in a green uniform reminiscent of school dinner ladies smiled at Rose as she approached, with no expression other than friendly.

“Hi there, what can ah get for eh today?” The girl asked in a polite, yet very heavily accented brogue that suggested she had grown up in the farms surrounding the town.

“Hi, can I have a jam tart and a hot chocolate please. Thank you.” Rose smiled back and pulled her purse from her shoulder bag, breathing in the fresh ground coffee bean smell wafting her way.

“Sure thing, will just be two ticks for eh.” The girl turned on her heel and moved off to arrange Rose's order on a tray, allowing her a moment to properly look around the clean surroundings.

Glancing around she took in the bright, simple decor, the mint-coloured walls and dark wood floor which all seemed new. The cases of fancy patisseries and treats and the huge display case, showcasing elaborately decorated cakes for seasons and celebrations. It didn't have small town oozing from it and it saddened Rose a little. This bakery had been one of her favourite places to come on a weekend with her aunt, back when it had been a small corner shop and not the huge one she now stood within.

The bakery her aunt had loved had been small and quaint and had obviously grown into the neighboring shops over time, to accommodate more seating and bigger kitchens. The woman who used to run it had been an Italian woman called Bella. A large round warm lady who had enveloped little Rose in cuddles and always satisfied her sweet tooth with a cream cake when they had come. Rose guessed this is what success looked like when a small-town bakery managed to keep going for decades. As she looked around at the modern art, and clean, simple window dressings, Rose was suddenly aware of the young woman at the window table, smiling at her openly.

Rose glanced away awkwardly, assuming she was smiling to someone behind Rose, but a quick look showed no one had come in behind her and she was the only one standing there. Rose looked back again, catching the girl's eye and gained another bright smile. This time Rose smiled back and returned her gaze to the counter as her hot chocolate and strawberry tart was placed on the tray in front of her. Rose took the little round wooden tray with its paper lace doily and moved off, looking to choose a seat. The girl beckoned to her with a waving hand, catching her eye and tapped the table, showing she was offering her a seat. Rose hesitated, then followed the gesture and approached shyly.

“Hi.” She got close and slid her tray on the table opposite the dark-haired stranger.

“Hi, there.” The girl smiled the most dazzling smile Rose had ever seen, all perfect straight white teeth and pretty, pouted lips, although there was something vaguely familiar about it. She had long black hair, the colour of raven feathers, pale flawless skin with peachy blushed cheeks and dazzling green eyes that sparkled out at you mischievously. She was dressed casually, and it made her appear very young. She was young, maybe in her early twenties or late teens and stunningly beautiful in a casual, naive, sort of way.

She extended her hand announcing her name was Abby, Abigail but everyone called her Abby. That she was killing time and could do with the company.

“I'm Rose Turner, I just moved into the little cottage at the main road as you enter the village.” She smiled back at the pretty face and saw her nod, hinting she knew exactly which cottage.

“It's really nice to see a new young face, especially a girl. We don't get many newcomers.” Abby beamed her way, lifting her mug and sipping down some coffee; Rose felt an instant ease with this girl, a genuine friendliness.

Conversation soon began to flow, and Abby told Rose she was studying art history, held up textbooks from the seat beside her as if to prove her story was legit. There was a book face down on the table in front of her, and a plate with a half-eaten chocolate doughnut and now empty coffee mug. She was waiting for her brother, collecting her after four and loved to spend her free time in Bella's bakery. Rose absolutely loved this girls down to earth, straight-shooting attitude and genuine openness, she had always found the people in this village to be like this.

Rose was thrilled to hear Bella was still around and still owned this place. She learned that Abby was nineteen and incredibly easy to talk to, sweet and genuine. That despite looking very young, she was very mature and well spoken, her accent although typical for around here, had a slight upper-class clearness to it, much like the male strangers this morning.

The girls found conversation flowed effortlessly and had an immediate connection, both were artists and loved to paint! Both obsessed with the Sunflower painting by Van Gog and both didn't like abstract art in the slightest. Abby 'oohed” and 'ahead over Roses dress and almost died of envy when she told her that her car was pink too.

“Rob told me he’d never let me have a pink car.” She laughed “He said it would embarrass his manly self to take it for maintenance. Of course, because I would be completely incapable of doing such things; being a woman!” She joked with a slow shake of her head, and a sigh. An obvious look of sibling love in her eyes when she said his name.

“So, Rob is your brother?” Rose enquire, trying to imagine her own older brothers being that way so many years before. It had been a long time since her two brothers and she shared the same time zone, let alone home.

Why did that name ring a bell? Rob?

“Yes. Older, pain in the ass brother, who sometimes thinks he's my dad!” She smiled, moving her book aside and leaning her elbows on the table. “I mean my dad's still around, but Rob takes care of all of us. My mum passed away when I was fourteen and he just sort of took over. Dad was a mess and well, he's in his seventies now, so it made sense.” She looked far away for a moment, then returned to reality, returned from a moment of sadness that Rose knew only too well; missing a loved one was something you never got over. “Dad married a younger woman you see.” She winked cheekily. “Rob was born when dad was already in his late forties, and well, I came in his late fifties.” She shrugged. “I guess they wanted more kids in between but it never happened. So just the two of us, in that big house, and then dad of course. The rest of the family lives further away.”

“It's nice though, that he's so protective and you're obviously close, both my brothers live abroad. One in the RAF, he's currently in America and the other emigrated to Australia to become a marine biologist. My parents live in Edinburgh, so I'm here all on my lonesome.” Rose couldn't help but notice the effortless way the two women had just slipped into sharing life stories. It really felt as if she had always known Abby.

“I couldn't imagine not having family around me all the time. Don't you get lonely or scared?” Abby scrutineer Roses face seriously. Trying to figure out the girl.

“I'm used to it; I lived in London for six years to further my career and I didn't really make many friends. The life was too fast paced, and everyone just wanted to succeed or party. I missed normal slow living and genuine people.” Rose took a mouthful of her drink and watched Abby toy with her empty mug.

“You sound like Rob. He lived in Glasgow for a couple years when he went to Uni to study business, he said he couldn't wait to come home and just get back to home life, the town and the Manor.”

It suddenly hit Rose sitting there, that one tiny word within a sentence. Manor! This was Abigail Munro! She was the Laird's sister!

Running through the scene earlier in her head and piecing the fragments together in a split second, she felt her stomach lurching as it clicked into place. That familiar smile. That black hair, and although the eyes were not Frey, she had his eyes. That same cheeky look when he smiled. The hint of dimples when she smiled. Just like his. That flawless skin and attractive bone structure. The easy confidence and the upper-class dialect which was not common around here.

Surely, he couldn't be? Could he?

He’d been leaving the Munro estate and he did say “Most people know I have a bad view of the road.” Or something along those lines. Rose felt the colour drain from her face as it sunk in that her first encounter of the day with the asshole, had not been just any asshole, but this lovely girl's brother and the Laird of her new hometown. The Laird, who had invited her to his ball!

“Are you okay?” The look of concern on Abby's face only struck it home, so alarmingly like his.

Damn!

Even the same question as he had yanked open her car door. They were so alike it was transformation; Rose feigned a smile and then let her head drop into her palms groaning aloud. She felt like a moron, prize “A” idiot, and this sudden dawning of events had her reeling with regret. She felt Abby's hand touch her arm, concerned her new friend was having some sort of mental breakdown.

“I met him!” She mumbled, covering her face and trying to rub away the creationist. The urge to pour her own hot chocolate over her head swiftly coming over her.

“Rob?” She could almost hear the surprise in Abby's tone.

“Yes! He almost killed me with his car this morning and then...”

“Penelope?” The sound of his deep familiar voice moved her to jump up, right off the table. Snapping her head up to meet his tall figure coming towards her from the open door. Shocked into momentary silence by the sight of him towering at the side of the table right next to her, larger than life, so close she caught her breath. His sudden presence making her feel hot and bothered, flustered with no real reason, except that maybe he was a little bit hot in a sculpted white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and some super snug on the ass jeans. Both Abby and his eyes glued to her face with a look of concern, strikingly similar! Yet not! One was extremely feminine and one extremely masculine, in the disturbingly male way that made women like Rose lose all compos mantis.

“Are you okay?” Both of them, almost in unison.

Oh god, it was undeniable that they were related.

She slid her chair out quickly, mumbling some incoherent reason for getting going and avoiding looking him in the face as she tried to slide by. Caught between embarrassment, awkwardness, and just sheer cringe factor. Now she could fully see him without the red veil of rage she had to admit, he was romance hero worthy.

He caught her by the waist as she made for a lame exit attempt, stopping her and towering over her fragile frame like some kind of Neanderthal. No hesitation in laying his hands on her tiny figure, which only enraged her almost compulsively. His hot male hands encircling her body, burning through the thin fabric of her dress with an almost searing heat, causing immediate anger and uneasiness at his touch. Unsure at why she was reacting this way, and it was only bringing the fury back to the forefront. She shoved him off defiantly, hands meeting with hard chest beneath his thin shirt.

“I'm absolutely fine! ... No thanks to you and your dangerous driving. Where did you get your license? ... A lucky bag!” She surprised herself with her venomous reaction, as she saw the storm move into his eyes again. Clearing away the concern to be replaced with a matched annoyance, fury to challenge her own. Burning between them like a beast about to erupt, incombustible fire.

“So I see. Not lying there dying or passing out from a concussion, as I feared; but alive and spitting just like earlier. And I could ask you the same thing, Penelope. I'm sure driving eighty on the road to town was highly responsible.” His angry glare sent prickles up her spine, that smug face only inches from hers. Her breathing hitched.

“Just trying to get away from you. In case once again your idiot driving caused me to crash!” She thrust her hands on her hips in a show of bravado and pulled her small height up to meet him head on.

“Getting away from me is becoming a habit today!” Rob crossed his arms across that massive expanse of male muscle and leaned back on his heel, somehow it only angered her more.

“Yup. Absolutely!” She spat.

“Great! Don't let me stop you.” He stepped back, giving her some much-needed breathing space. Sparks sizzling in the air between them with no real sense at all to the anger fueling the scene. No real argument in the petty comments, just rage, heat and sparks.

She had no idea why this guy made her so angry. Every nerve in her body reacting like hot piercing needles and the urge to smash a mug on his head. His overly good-looking face absolutely screamed for her to throw her drink in it; it seemed they both evoked that reaction in each other. He moved out of the way, gesturing her exit dramatically, almost bowing as he nodded and murmured some incoherent insult. To which she spat one back before marching off with a bag in hand, twisting the handle like it was his neck.

Oh, my god! He was a complete jerk! Arrogant sod with his sultry cold eyes piercing like daggers!

Poor Abby sat watching this whole scene in absolute disbelief; Rob, her normally laid-back, gentle and well-mannered brother. This seemingly nice girl, who had just spent a half hour acting like old friends. They had turned to instant fire and brimstone in each bother's presence. She had no clue what to say to defuse the situation, but just sat there agog. The tension between them sending off an electric atmosphere like she had never experienced; Abby raised a knowing eyebrow at Rob and a tiny smirk. Rob frowned a “What?” at her in aggravation.

Rose stalked out in a very dramatic fashion in a flurry of ruffled petticoats, leaving half of her drink and cake sitting and almost taking out seats with her swinging handbag. Abby just sat staring at Rob in bewilderment. He told her he would wait for her in the car, then stormed off in an equally bad mood, taking the opposite direction to Rose. Walking out the door only seconds behind the pink-clad woman and glaring at her walking away as he stalked to his own car.