Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Nope.” I squeezed my hands around the steering wheel. “I’m not going there today. Today I’m going to Stòr to wander around the island and have a peaceful, lonesome picnic.”
A glance in my rearview showed the coastline growing farther behind. The causeway connected to a road outside of town.
Growing closer to the island, I discovered it was larger than I expected.
As I reached it, I noted another tide time warning sign. I was surprised to learn that high tide could shut Stòr off from the mainland for as long as eight hours. But I had the rest of the afternoon and the evening to explore. According to the safe crossing times, the tide would stay out from now until almost eleven o’clock tonight.
The road was single track and climbed upward through thick forest. Taking it easy, I drank in the views back to Glenvulin through the thicket of trees. Following the road around the island, it didn’t take me long to drive it. A third of the land didn’t even have a usable road, it seemed. What I did drive, according to my vehicle, was only around seven miles long. The trees opened up as I crossed the island. A few miles passed and then the landscape transformed into fields and rocky terrain. Eventually, I spotted a white house on the opposite side. It was perched right on the coast, looking back toward Leth Sholas, and had its own dock. Deciding it was only polite to introduce myself since Ramsay McRae was partners with Quinn, we’d be working together, and I was on his land, I drove toward it.
However, there was no vehicle in front. Parking my SUV, I got out and strolled up to the house that was typical of island homes. One story, small windows, white render. I knocked first. I inhaled the crisp salty sea air and enjoyed the mild breeze that blew through my hair.
There was no answer, so I meandered around to take a nosy peek in one of the windows. From what I could see, it was a small snug. Around the back was the kitchen. There was a lot of clutter, almost like it was being used for storage.
Was this not Ramsay McRae’s home?
There was a large bank of solar panels positioned next to the house, so obviously someone was using it because it had power.
Frowning, I noted the lack of a boat at the dock. Perhaps my new co-contractor was not home.
Returning to my car, I drove back the way I came but stopped around the halfway point between the white house and the causeway. Parking as far off the road as I could, I grabbed my backpack, which held my picnic along with my latest paperback romance obsession. Then I hiked down through the wooded coastline until I came to a tiny, pebbled beach.
I sucked in a breath at the turquoise waters surrounding the inlet. It was stunning. Finding a grassy knoll, I sank down and listened to the water lapping at the shore. From here, the mainland of Scotland was even closer. Quickly, to get it out of the way, I took a snapshot of the view. Part of my marketing plans for the B and B was to share the progress of the renovation on social media. I interspersed photos and videos of my old Victorian building with photos of the setting. As someone who didn’t particularly enjoy documenting experiences and preferred to live in the moment rather than break out of it for a photograph, I had to constantly remind myself to take pics. Quinn had politely declined my request to upload videos of him and the men working to socials (he and some of the guys were hella hot), and I respected that. With a sigh, I put my cell away and drank in the view.
For a moment, though, I felt like the only person in the world.
All my stress and anxieties, all the responsibility I felt weighing on me, for a few beautiful minutes, it all just melted away.
This is why I came here, I reminded myself.
This was why I’d traveled across a continent to start over.
Venturing onto Stòr today might have been out of my growing curiosity, but it was also from a need to enjoy some “me time” before the chaos of renovation and running a business changed my daily life.
Opening my backpack, I took out the sandwich I’d bought from Leth Sholas Bakery & Tearoom. There were a surprising number of businesses within those rainbow-colored buildings along the harbor. The bakery, I’d discovered, was run by married couple Harry and Bryan Weaver, Australians who had moved to the island seven years ago. They were warm and friendly, and their cakes and sandwiches were so far among my favorite discoveries in my new home.
I had to force myself to slow down and savor the spicy salami, pancetta, and Monterey Jack cheese ciabatta. There was a whole lot of other stuff going on inside the loaded gourmet sandwich, and it was a whole lotta amazing.