Edie peered past him to glare daggers at her ward.

‘Hey,’ he said quietly, waiting until she looked up at him. ‘I want to be with you, Edie Strang. Properly. If you don’t want to get married, that’s fine. But I’m setting out my stall, here. You’re where I want to be for the rest of my life, so whether we get married or not, I want to knock a hole through that wall that stands between our lives – literally as well as metaphorically. And if that’s what you want too… Well, then we have an accord, wouldn’t you say?’

Edie blinked. Ezra didn’t think he was imagining the mist in her eyes. He could almost hear Gilly holding her breath.

‘You just don’t want to have to ask to use the garden gate any more, do you?’ Edie said finally, and he knew it was as close to a ‘yes’ as he’d ever get. ‘You want to take that fence down and let that bloody goat—’

He kissed her, the last of her words stopped by his lips, and behind them Gilly gave an extremely loud wolf whistle.

Forty-Six

‘They’re what?’ Ron exclaimed, almost dropping the sugar bowl he was holding.

‘They’re getting married,’ Rachel laughed.

‘They’re not! I don’t believe it.’

‘It’s true. They want to have the wedding in the bookshop. Well, the reception, anyway – I think they’re planning to have the actual ceremony at the register office in Great Dunbar. Edie is being a bit hazy on the details, but then I suppose it’s very new.’

‘Well, blow me down with a feather.’

‘I know,’ Rachel shook her head, taking the delicate bowl and beginning to wrap it in brown paper. ‘It turns out that Gilly was right all along.’

‘Aye, well, I’m not surprised from that point of view,’ Ron admitted. ‘I always thought there was a touch of “methinks the lord and lady doth protest too much” about their little spats. But to actually tie the knot…’

Rachel smiled. ‘I’m really happy for them.’

Ron nodded, though he had a thoughtful look on his face as they went on adding more of Cullen’s belongings to the box between them. By unspoken agreement they had left clearing the kitchen until last, probably because they had both known how it would feel to put away this part of their beloved friend’s life. Every time Rachel picked up a wooden spoon or packed a baking tray, she had the sense that Cullen was not very far away at all. He’d used all of these items regularly, he loved them, he loved what he made with them and he loved the people he made for. Each well-used item was a potent reminder of the person who was no longer there.

Rachel looked up a few minutes later to find Ron frozen in place, holding a set of tin biscuit-cutters, that thoughtful look still on his expressive face.

‘Penny for them?’ Rachel offered, when Ron remained quiet.