Craig turns back around. “He’s on his way.”

“So I heard.”

“Don’t worry; he’s a good driver.”

“Driver?”

A 4WD pulls up behind me, its tires kicking up dirt. The driver gets out and runs around to open the passenger door. I reel back a little. He is huge. Massive, but not in a fat way. More in a The Rock, Dwayne Johnson kind of way. “Welcome aboard, Miss Green.”

I look from the vehicle to him and back again. “Ava, please,” I say automatically. “I’m sorry, you want me to get in there?”

He nods.

“Why?”

He looks at Craig for help, who steps forward. “It’s all been organized by Ja—Mr. Gable.”

“And just where is Mr. Gable?”

“Hop in and I’ll take you to him.”

Climbing into a vehicle clearly used for maintenance and grounds work while wearing a beautiful dress that you want to keep clean for as long as possible is no easy feat. I spend a good three minutes trying to figure out where to put my hands and feet so I’m touching as little of the vehicle as possible, and in the end Craig helps by holding up my dress, while averting his eyes for modesty purposes, while I boost myself up and onto the seat that Heath has covered with a towel.

“I take it your celebrity guests aren’t treated to this mode of transport?” I say, eyebrows arched.

“Oh, no. This is a special one-off favor for Ja—Mr. Gable. Have fun.” Craig grins, slamming the door and standing well back.

“Buckle up,” says Heath, who is back in the driver’s seat. “This might get a little bumpy.”

He’s not wrong. The following journey takes forty-five long minutes, thirty of which are technically driven on what could be called gravel roads, but which are littered with potholes and rocks the size of my head that must be dodged. The last fifteen we are in open paddocks. Heath has to stop every few minutes to open gates, drive through them, and then get out and shut them again. In one paddock we startle a herd of animals who blink at us vacantly through long, shaggy brown hair as we drive slowly through to the other side.

“What are they?” I ask Heath. “I mean, I’m assuming they’re some kind of…cow?” I say the last word uncertainly. I’ve never seen animals like these before.

“Highland cattle. Scottish breed.”

“They’re so fluffy.”

“They are.”

“Oh, there’s a baby one; oh, how cute is that?” I clap my hands together in delight. Heath arches an eyebrow as if he’s now seen and heard it all. A thought occurs to me and I blanch.

“I didn’t eat one of those last night, did I?”

“No,” he reassures me. “This land isn’t part of the resort. These cattle are farmed by the owner of this station, but as long as we leave it as we find it we’re allowed to use it for access.”

I look sideways at him. “Access to what?”