A Christmas Romance in the Scottish Highlands (Scottish Highlands #6)

Chapter 15

15

ALEX

Alex felt like his head was going to explode. From the moment Ella had sat in the booth opposite him, he’d had a bad feeling. He’d been drawing her for the last two days. It hadn’t mattered how many times he’d tried to portray Henry, Wyatt, Sprout, Stan or even his father, the person in his sketch had always morphed back into Ella.

His head was filled with her – so in the early hours of this morning, he’d finally given in. Deciding to just go with it and let the images run free. She’d never see the picture. Even if he showed it to Henry, he’d ask if they could keep it between them. He was doing what his mentor had asked, drawing the truth in all its glory – warts, lines, wrinkles, curves, all of it. And fuck it , hadn’t he done exactly that?

‘What’s the wastepaper basket mean?’ Hunter asked again, and Alex felt his whole body go rigid. He searched his mind for one of his father’s rules, one that might help to justify what he’d done. Then he remembered.

It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there – make sure you’re the one who eats.

Which roughly translated meant do whatever the hell you need to make sure you succeed. Which Alex had done – why then did he feel so awful about it?

He shut his eyes for a beat. He was going to have to explain, to lay bare everything he’d been thinking – but he didn’t want to. He admired Ella, was attracted to her too and the thought of hurting her was…

‘There’s lots of rubbish,’ the boy continued – his questions like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. ‘It’s like when I’m trying to draw something and it keeps going wrong. I rip out the picture, screw it up and throw it away.’ Hunter’s nose creased, the cute freckles along it rippling.

‘It’s my art, isn’t it?’ Ella asked, her voice raw. She’d obviously been trying to hold her smile in place, but the effort must have become too much for her, because it had disappeared and her face was now pale and drawn. ‘You’re trying to say it doesn’t matter to me, or maybe you think my pictures aren’t very good.’ She nodded and her shoulders seemed to sag. ‘ That’s why the artwork is in the bin.’

‘Ah!’ Hunter said his expression brightening as the puzzle got solved. ‘So that’s why you’ve thrown all your drawings away.’ The boy frowned, looking confused. ‘I don’t understand. Ella draws animals. Nana has one in her house and they’re really good…’

‘That’s not exactly what the picture means,’ Alex said quietly, wishing he hadn’t drawn anything.

It had come to him in the early hours when he’d been so tired he could barely think. Ella had been swimming around his mind. The fact that he’d wanted to kiss her in the changing room, would have asked if he hadn’t come to his senses in time…And he’d been annoyed. Angry that she’d hadn’t come to her lessons, that every time her stepbrothers told her they were sick, she dropped everything and stepped in. It was so obvious to everyone they were taking advantage – and she was letting them.

The picture she’d almost finished had been taunting him from her easel in the studio. She was so talented and seemed so happy to give it all up. But he hadn’t known about her promise to her father then – hadn’t understood anything when he’d started the sketch.

He gazed across the table, Ella looked pale and a little sick, and suddenly he felt ill too. He knew he shouldn’t – his father would say he hadn’t done anything wrong. But his mother’s blood flowed through his veins – and it was telling him in no uncertain terms that he should have kept his opinions to himself. That he was an arrogant eejit for judging this woman so harshly.

‘Your art comes last, Ella,’ Henry said, his voice kind but firm. ‘I don’t think the lad meant to be cruel.’ He looked between them, and for the first time, Alex wondered if he was regretting the lesson he’d set. The older man reached out a hand intending to close the sketchbook, but Ella placed her palm over the picture so he couldn’t.

‘You don’t need to hide it. There’s no point,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ve seen it now and—’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘There’s a lot for me to think about here. Plenty of truth and what did you say?’ She lifted her eyes. ‘Warts. I can see those in the picture too.’ She nodded. ‘Perhaps even some I have to finally consider.’ Her chest heaved.

‘The drawing’s good, though, isn’t it?’ Hunter asked, looking between them, his face registering confusion and a touch of distress.

‘Of course it is,’ Ella said, stroking the back of her hand across his cheek, her voice soothing. ‘It’s brilliant. Alex is a wonderful artist. I can’t wait to see what he draws next. I’m so sorry.’ She made a point of checking her watch. ‘I’ve got to get to work. My stepbrothers are sick again.’ Her voice cracked on the last word, and Alex saw the way she heaved in a breath, gathering herself. ‘I’ve got to cover a cleaning job and I’m going to be late.’

‘You haven’t eaten your lunch,’ Hunter said, staring at the bowl of soup and sandwich sitting in front of her. She’d only had a sip of the soup and the rest was untouched.

‘Aye.’ Ella rubbed her hand across the boy’s head, ruffling his hair. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll ask your nana to save it for me.’ She gave him a dim smile.

‘I’ll try and make it to the next lesson,’ she said to Henry, her voice a little raspy. ‘Would you mind letting me get out, lad?’ she asked Hunter.

Then without looking at any of them again, Ella slid from the bench, grabbed Wyatt’s lead and fled.