Golden Luckenbooth

Thirty-Two

"You sit right there and wait for me," Arran bosses me around after I've sat on a piece of plastic that we've put in the truck's front passenger seat. "I'll finish looking over both Tabitha and Grace. Then we'll head to your house so you can shower and change clothes." He starts to walk away, twisting towards me after a few steps. "Are you sure you're okay? We can leave now if we need to. I can come back later to check on the cows."

I'm relieved he didn't say "other cows", cause not only am I starting to resemble one, I feel like one. But he wouldn't do that. Despite his excessive tattoos and his extravagant beard, Arran is a good guy. I'm not sure what I would do without him these days, and he's only been with me for a few weeks.

"Physically, I'm fine. Emotionally, I'm bruised." I wave him off, willing him to pretend this interlude had never happened.

Whistling for the dogs, he directs Shortbread to stay by my side as he takes Piper with him.

"Be careful of her arthritis!" I call to him, and he waves his hand at me as if telling me not to worry, but I worry nonetheless. Why hadn't he taken the younger dog? As usual, though, my emotional support dog knows just what I need. Jumping into my lap, she snuggles close, her snout resting on my arm.

"I just don't know, girl. This pregnancy thing is turning out to be more of a pain in the arse than I thought it would be. My body isn't my own anymore. There's a human incubating in there, and it is more demanding than Mrs. Ferguson, a.k.a. Rainbow's pet mama. Harry's leaving tomorrow night, and he'll be gone for an eternity." Shortbread whimpers, and I fist my hand into her fur. "Don't you start. I think it's fair to say I'll miss him more than you will." She snorts, and I laugh. "Oh, it's like that, is it?"

As she picks up her head to stare at me, I roll my eyes. "Okay, fine. You can miss him more if it's that important to you."

The truth is that I've gotten used to having him around – Harry, I mean – despite his jealous tendencies towards Arran. The presence of another handsome man in my life has actually made Harry even more attentive, and he was already vigilant before the intern joined us in our home. What will life be without Harry around for the next week?

I ponder my reality for the next several minutes until Arran reappears.

"Anna?" Startled, I look at him. "Been calling for you for the last two minutes. Lots on your mind, I suspect."

Indeed. When I nod, my intern smiles. "I'm just relieved I can be here to help." On the way home, he regales me with his adventures with Grace who seems to be feeling her power now that she's knocked me on my arse. We talk through some of the possible diagnoses, and I praise Arran for his thought processes regarding the situation.

"Sounds like you've collected the best samples to narrow down your diagnosis," I compliment him, and he beams. Well, sort of. It's hard to tell with all of his facial hair, but I catch the twinkle in his eyes and chalk it up to pride.

Forty-five minutes later when we arrive back at the house, Arran turns off the engine and swiftly jogs around to the passenger side of the truck before I can open the door. The dogs whimper in the back, anxious to get inside and see their favourite human – as if they hadn't belonged to me prior to Harry's arrival.

Some fans peek around the corner, and I wave to them from the truck. "He's not out here!" I call, and they retreat, although one or two examine Arran carefully as though he either (a) is Harry in disguise or (b) might be a worthy replacement for Harry. Neither of which is true.

"I can walk by myself," I signal for Arran to back away, but when I move my left leg to turn to the side and hop from the truck, a pain in my hip twinges, and I suck in air at the velocity of a rocket breaking through the atmosphere. Arran's hand on my elbow keeps me upright, and I walk a few steps, wincing the whole time. Even then I'm not certain I can climb the two steps to my kitchen door.