A Fresh Start on Crumcarey (Crumcarey Island #5)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

MAGGIE

M aggie lay as stiff as a board. Her muscles were coiled, and she was ready to bolt upright at the slightest sound of movement.

It wasn’t the bed’s fault. It was warm and cosy, and she’d love nothing more than to curl up in an exhausted ball and float off to sleep underneath the soft mound of blankets. But… until those lights went out and she heard Luke settle on the sofa, she was on high alert.

It wasn’t because she didn’t feel safe – because she did – absolutely. She might not know him very well, but she trusted Luke. Even so… there was something in the air she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Possibility.

A spark of electricity.

She didn’t think she was imagining it.

She hoped she wasn’t imagining it.

Of course, it didn’t help that she was surrounded by the scent of Luke. Warm, spicy. Delicious.

Maggie wriggled her toes.

The room suddenly went dark, and she strained her ears to catch the sound of Luke’s padding footsteps as he made his way over to the sofa. There was a creak, the rustle of a duvet being pulled up to a bristly chin, and then complete silence other than the crackling of the wood burner and the sound of rain still beating against the roof.

‘Night Luke,’ she whispered into the darkness of her little curtained cave.

‘Night Mags,’ came a soft whisper from across the room.

Maggie turned onto her side and grinned into the pillow as she finally relaxed in the cosy warmth of the bed. Reaching out, she pushed the curtain aside. The dim flicker of the wood burner’s flames danced on the whitewashed walls. It was barely enough to illuminate the space, but she could just make out the outline of the sofa, and the soft mound of duvet nestled in its depths.

Maggie knew she should feel weird, invading someone else’s bed like this. Hell, the whole evening should have been weird. That couldn’t be further from the truth, though. She felt strangely at home in Luke’s company. As for this little barn… it was exactly what she’d hoped Pear Tree Cottage would have turned into by now.

Maggie frowned a little at the thought.

When she’d first arrived on Crumcarey, she hadn’t minded the idea of camping at the cottage for a couple of years while they got the jobs done one by one. But… that had come with a couple of caveats. Things had to be moving in the right direction – and at the very least, she wanted to be warm and dry.

Was it so unreasonable that those were her bare minimum requirements before she’d agreed to the whole thing? She certainly didn’t think so.

Of course, the reality of Pear Tree Cottage had turned into something else entirely – a slow, messy nightmare. Luke’s barn was the way it should have been… and it had only taken him a couple of weeks to achieve it.

Amazing .

Who knew what state the cottage would be in by the time the storm finally blew itself out. What if she couldn’t even live there anymore?! No matter what Luke had said earlier about the damage sounding worse than it actually was - he hadn’t been there when it had happened. He hadn’t seen the vast tangle of tarp and roof slates that had dumped themselves onto her poor little car!

Maggie felt her chin quiver and she quickly shifted to lie on her other side, facing the wall. It might be dark and there might be a curtain, but she wasn’t going to show this moment of weakness to the world.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie did her best to steady herself.

Maybe Luke was right… maybe everything would feel better in the morning… maybe…

Letting out a long, slow sigh, Maggie’s eyes fluttered closed as Luke’s sweet, spicey scent eased her off to sleep.

Maggie yawned widely and opened her eyes… only to find herself staring at an unfamiliar, whitewashed stone wall.

Huh?!

Her bed didn’t smell right. And… what on earth was she wearing?!

It took a couple of seconds for reality to dawn on her. When it did, she settled back with a grin. Luke’s bed. Luke’s tee shirt. Luke’s bloomin’ boxer shorts!

A little snort of laughter escaped her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth. She had no idea what time it was, and she didn’t want to wake Luke if he was still conked out on the sofa.

Yawning widely, Maggie stared idly up at the ceiling for a long moment. That had to have been the deepest, most restful sleep she’d had in months… which was a bit of a miracle, given the reason behind her flight through the storm to Luke’s barn in the first place.

The thought dragged her fully out of sleep, and she struggled to sit up. Grabbing the edge of the curtain surrounding her little corner, she peeped around it, only to find the sofa had been abandoned. The duvet was on the floor, and sounds of splashing drifted over from the direction of the bathroom.

So – Luke was awake too. Perfect!

Jumping out of bed, Maggie made a beeline for her clothes. With any luck, they’d be nice and dry, and she’d be able to make a dash back to her bed-cave before poor old Luke was treated to the sight of her creeping around in his boxers.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, Maggie felt one leg of her jeans. The denim was rough and stiff – but mercifully dry! She was just gathering the rest of her clothes into her arms when the front door of the barn flew open, making her jump.

‘Oh!’ said Mr Harris, his bushy eyebrows bristling as he stared at her in surprise.

Didn’t the man knock?!

Of course he didn’t - it was his farm after all!

‘Morning!’ came a cheerful voice from the other side of the room.

Oh great!

Maggie’s eyes flew from Mr Harris to Luke and then down to the scruffy, wiry little dog who’d just pelted towards her and was now busy licking her ankles.

‘Blimey Mags – he likes you!’ chuckled Luke.

Maggie met his eye for a split second, her face turning a steaming pink.

‘I… didn’t mean to intrude…’ said Mr Harris, looking confused as he eyed Maggie’s makeshift pyjamas. He threw a questioning glance at Luke and then turned back to her.

‘We can explain!’ said Maggie.

Luke snorted with laughter.

Maggie had to rein in the temptation to stick her tongue out at him. She couldn’t blame him though – she was doing a very good impression of a teenager caught red-handed after sneaking into a boy’s room!

‘Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll put the kettle on?’ said Luke, clearly taking pity on her.

‘Clothes. Good idea,’ said Mr Harris, nodding. ‘You might give poor old McGregor a heart attack.’

Luke started to giggle, and Maggie gave in and stuck her tongue out at him before dashing back to the bed and closing the curtain firmly behind her. It didn’t stop a snuffly little nose from making its way underneath the edge two seconds later.

‘McGregor!’ the two men shouted in unison, and the terrier disappeared with what she could swear was a roll of his beady little eyes.

Maggie started to pull her clothes on as fast as she could.

‘Here,’ said Luke, handing her a steaming vat of coffee the minute she reappeared.

‘Ta,’ she said, wrapping her hands gratefully around the gigantic mug and taking a sip.

‘So. Are either of you going to tell me what on earth I’ve just walked in on?’ said Mr Harris.

Maggie grinned at him, feeling a bit less exposed now that she was back in her own clothes.

‘I’m afraid my cottage had a little accident in the storm,’ she said.

‘How little?’ said Mr Harris, looking concerned.

‘Most of the roof kind of little?’ she said.

‘Oh dear,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ said Maggie, feeling a dollop of dread drop into her stomach.

‘To be fair, we’ve not had the chance to have a proper look yet,’ said Luke mildly.

Maggie smiled at him gratefully. He was clearly trying to stop her from running away with herself before they’d had the chance to assess the damage.

‘Anyway,’ said Maggie, ‘I didn’t know what to do, so I came over here… you guys are the closest.’

‘You’re always welcome,’ said Mr Harris seriously. ‘Where’s your car, though – I didn’t see it?’

‘Underneath most of the roof,’ said Maggie.

‘Oh dear,’ said Mr Harris again. ‘Well… that does explain why there are several tarpaulins and a bunch of snapped rope up in the top field!’

‘Oh no, I’m so sorry,’ said Maggie.

‘Don’t you apologise, girl!’ said Mr Harris, shaking his head. ‘I was just on my way down to find Luke to help me collect it all up. Then I was going to drive over to the cottage to make sure you’re alright.’

‘I’m alright,’ said Maggie. ‘Thank you, though.’

‘A miracle you are, too,’ said Mr Harris.

‘Yeah, especially as she practically swam here last night!’ said Luke, his voice serious.

McGregor – who’d been sitting on Maggie’s foot while all this had been going on – glanced up at her and barked. It sounded very much like he was telling her off.

‘Consider yourself told!’ laughed Luke. ‘But that reminds me – I’ve put fresh batteries in this for you.’

Maggie took the torch from him. She had no idea why she’d brought it with her, considering it had been as dead as a dodo and about as much use as a chocolate teapot.

‘Thank you,’ she said, giving him a tiny smile.

‘Well… now there are two of you to help me tidy up the field,’ said Mr Harris. ‘Drink that coffee up… we’ve got work to do.’