Chapter 29

Willow

Ramsay didn't come home that night.

I'd hoped he would, but he had gone to the hospital for a checkup and to see his brother. He'd been short with me when he'd left, instructing me to go home, and it was hard for me to read what he wanted or needed from me in this moment. Deciding not to push it, I'd agreed to take Calvin home and said I'd hoped to see him later.

But morning had come and there was no text message from him.

Worry filled me.

Needing to know what had happened, I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail which meant either his phone had died or was off. It wasn't surprising, Ramsay wasn't much for texting or being on his phone, but I couldn't help but wonder what had happened with his brother and if he was feeling okay.

"The brother lived. I hear he's being charged with arson." Archie snapped his newspaper closed and held out his hands for Calvin when I arrived in the lounge. Dangling a feather from his basket of flies next to him, he smiled as Calvin rolled on his back and swatted at the toy. "He's a good cat."

"He is. He must have gotten away from you yesterday because he's the one who told me the place was on fire."

"Is that right?" Hilda asked, swinging into the room with a tray of scones and toast. "How are you able to communicate with him?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I just figured out that he can kind of flash images into my brain of what he wants. Like he's really interested in what's on your tray there."

"Nothing for you, wee lad." Hilda clucked her tongue at Calvin.

"And Ramsay? Has anyone heard from him?"

"I heard he didn't have to stay in the hospital or anything. He was there because of his brother, and then went home to his parents' house."

"Of course." I sat at the table and buttered a scone, eating it idly even though I wasn't very hungry. "That makes sense."

It did make sense. He'd want to be with his parents after an event like that, particularly where both sons ended up in the hospital. I just wished…well, it didn't matter what I wished. Ramsay had been clear about me not following him to the hospital, so I had respected his decision.

"What will you do today, with the shop like it is?" Hilda leaned against the table, concern in her pretty eyes. She must be picking up on the undercurrent of what wasn't being said.

"I'm going to go down and see the shop. See if Ramsay needs any help clearing it out, and then I don't know. I guess work on designs from here."

"Library's yours to use if you need it then."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Mind watching Calvin while I go to the shop this morning?"

"Of course not. The wee lad's not a bother at all."

Sir Buster let out a little growl from beneath the table, and Hilda snorted.

"They'll figure it out soon enough," Hilda said, squeezing my arm. "As will you. Even the darkest of mornings have light."

I held on to that thought as I made my way into Loren Brae after breakfast, the air crisp and fresh this morning, sunlight drifting softly across the calm shores of Loch Mirren. On any other day, my heart would be full, and I'd be admiring how pretty the buildings looked lining the water.

Water that held unimaginable magic and depths.

I'd passed my third challenge.

After breakfast, I'd checked my sewing scissors to find the tiniest of flames etched among the vines next to the heart and the cat. Three challenges met. Which meant I was now officially a member of the Order of Caledonia, and I hadn't told anyone. Not yet. I felt…adrift this morning, without the shop to work in, my future hanging in the balance while I waited to hear from Ramsay.

Was he hurting?

I couldn't imagine how awful it must have felt to have one's own brother destroy something you had worked so hard for. Granted, we'd been smart about the vision I'd had, taking most of the important items from the shop and storing them safely at the castle, but it was really the symbolism of the act that mattered most, no? What bigger betrayal than having your own brother take a match to your dreams? I wanted to hug Ramsay and tell him that I was there for him, in whatever capacity he'd allow me to be.

Which currently, was nothing.

But I could change that. I just needed to find the man and squeeze him.

Turning the corner to the store, I skidded to a stop. A few men were climbing in a truck to leave, and Ramsay stood alone in front of what had once been his beautiful store. While I know the store only represented a small piece of Ramsay's palatial business, it had been a great spot to work.

I nodded at the men in the truck as they passed, and silently came to stand next to where Ramsay stared at the remains of the shop.

"Hey," I said softly, bumping his shoulder with mine. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I'm feeling?" Ramsay rasped, and he didn't look at me. Worry kicked up.

"I imagine pretty shitty," I said. "For a lot of valid reasons. But first I want to know if you had any major smoke inhalation issues or what the doctor said."

"All clear." Ramsay shook his head, dismissing my question.

"Your brother?"

"Broken ankle, smoke inhalation, and facing time in prison."

I pressed my lips together at that, my heart rate picking up as I studied the mess in front of us. Something had changed in Ramsay, and I didn't know how to reach him.

"Oh, Calvin's cat tree." I moved to step into the mess to see if we could fix the half-burned tree, but Ramsay snagged my arm and pulled me back.

"Can't touch anything. The site is part of an investigation. The inspector has been out, but he's coming back again this morning to take more photos."

"Oh, sure. Makes sense." Drawing in a breath, I turned and wrapped my arms around Ramsay. His body stiffened under my touch. "I'm just so glad you're okay."

"That I'm …?" Ramsay pulled himself out of my arms and took a step back. "Okay? You think that I'm okay?"

The anger in his tone set me back a step, and I blinked up at him, torn on how to react. I wasn't sure that I knew this Ramsay. Carefully controlled rage hovered behind his face, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

"No, I don't think any of this is okay, Ramsay. But I'm glad you're not hurt, physically at least," I said, my hands in the air. "But the rest of this? Ramsay, we can fix this. We can build the shop again. We saved your fabrics. We can do this."

"We?"

The way he said it, as though I was a speck of dirt on his perfectly woven fabric, had my breath catching in my throat.

"Yes, we. I'm here to help."

"I don't need your help, Willow. You still don't get it, do you?" Ramsay swept his hand out in front of the store. "This is not a ‘we' problem. This is a me problem. Stop trying to make this shop your own. It's not. This is my shop, and you don't belong here."

My heart fell at his words, and I turned to look at the smoldering remains of the store that I'd pinned my hopes on.

Had I done it again? Trusted my future with someone who didn't feel the same way about what we were building? I'd been so certain that Loren Brae was my spot and that designing for the castle would be my future—well, at least a step in the right direction, and I'd genuinely enjoyed working with Ramsay. We'd formed a connection, as designers, and we'd just finished all of our designs and had been ready to present them to Sophie. What had changed?

"But…what about our designs, Ramsay? We've worked so hard on them. I thought we were really creating a beautiful collection."

"I was just humoring you because Sophie had asked me to. I've told you from the beginning that I work best alone."

I blinked at him, tears filling my eyes. I wish I could be one of those people who didn't show my emotions, that I could hide the pain from my face, but I just wasn't built that way. Instead, I stood in front of Ramsay, my heart bleeding.

"So the shop is gone and that means we're done too?" I whispered.

"You almost died." Ramsay whirled on me. "I was supposed to protect you, and I didn't. So yes, we're done. Go back home, Willow, where Miles can keep an eye on you, and I don't have to look out for you every second of my day."

The tears spilled over, and I took a step back, hating the expression I saw on Ramsay's face. Scorn. Anger. Resolute.

He's done.

He's completely done with me.

Once again, I'll be alone. How freaking wonderful. And that was when the anger began to boil within me.

"It's not your job to protect me. And it's not Miles's job either. I can take care of myself."

"Well do it elsewhere, Willow. I don't need someone else in here trying to take over my business."

"I'm not trying to take over your business. We were working together," I shouted, pointing at him. "Don't pretend like we weren't."

"You're just an intern, Willow. Go home."

With that, my heart cracked in two, and I turned, refusing to give this man another ounce of myself. Whatever had transpired between his brother and Ramsay since the fire had closed him up, made him cold. I didn't have the energy to be his sunshine anymore.

No, maybe he was right. It might just be time for me to go home. If only I hadn't been so sure that Loren Brae was my home.