Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“In entertainment news, crowds gather at Wembley tonight as global star Koda kicks off her UK tour …”
Switching off the car stereo with trembling fingers, I noted Theo’s hands clenched tightly around the wheel. “Are you all right?”
“The bastard’s dead,” he replied hoarsely. “He can’t harm anyone else. So, yes, I’m all right.” He glanced at me. “Are you?”
“Is it wrong that I’m relieved?”
“No. No, it’s not wrong.” Theo reached over to squeeze my hand before returning his to the wheel.
We drove in silence for a while, lost in our thoughts at the sudden and strange news until the headlights lit up the sign for Gairloch.
“‘When the moonlight’s on the mountain / And the gloom is on the glen, / At the cross beside the fountain / There is one will meet thee then,’” Theo recited softly as we drove along the winding coastal roads into Gairloch.
The moon cast a glow over the loch below and the snow-topped hills made me shiver with anticipation. It had been a year since I’d stayed at the cottage. With Theo.
It would forever be our place, and I loved the idea of us staying there for a few weeks every year.
“What’s that from?” I asked, wanting a distraction from the news that had dampened my excitement with dark memories.
“‘When the Gloom is on the Glen,’ by William Makepeace Thackeray. It’s a love poem.” He glanced at me. “Have you never heard it?”
“No. It’s pretty. We should write a poem about us and a glen.”
“Hmm, how so?” he asked.
“We had to climb mountains to get here. To have this.” I gestured between us. “It took us a while to find the glen that would let us pass through.”
He flashed me a smile, but I couldn’t tell if it reached his eyes. “How very poetic, my love. And very true.”
I reached over to smooth a hand down his arm. “I’m here if you need to talk about this.”
“I don’t,” he promised. “It’s finally over, Sarah. That’s a gift.”
Hearing the sincerity in his voice, I nodded and let it go.
A few minutes later, Theo pulled into the cottage’s driveway and then we bustled inside out of the cold, only to walk into more cold because the heating had been switched off. Even so, as we flipped on the lights, illuminating the desk Theo had pushed next to mine this time last year, all dark memories were obliterated. Old beautiful ones flooded in. Those days when I didn’t know what these intense feelings between us meant, but they were exciting and new and I wanted to experience every second of them, no matter what.
Theo slid his arm around me, his gaze on the desks that sat at the window overlooking a view obscured by winter darkness.
“This is my favorite place in the world,” he whispered, turning to me, all the love I could ever hope for burning in his eyes.
Now that we were here again, I couldn’t imagine only visiting once a year.
“Mine too,” I whispered back. “It’s good to be home.”
He pressed a tender kiss to my temple and agreed, “Isn’t it, though? And I’ve thought of a new name for it.”
“What’s wrong with Haven’s View Cottage?” I thought it was pretty.
“Nothing, really. But I thought perhaps Through the Glen Cottage suited us a little better.”
I sighed happily, loving that only I got to see how utterly romantic Theo could be. I snuggled into his warmth. “Aye. Through the Glen Cottage. It’s perfect, Mr. Cavendish.”
***