Posh Doc, Society Wedding by Joanna Neil

about it.’ Izzy’s gaze was troubled. ‘I hate to see you angry and upset. I understand how you feel, but surely you’re reading too much into it. Perhaps we should all try to move on and put the past behind us?’
    ‘You wouldn’t feel that way if your livelihood depended on the goodwill of your neighbours. I had trouble with the old Laird, his father, and his constant attempts to stake a claim on my land with his tree planting and his new stone walls. Every now and again he would set up dams on the river to ruin the salmon fishing. He said it wasn’t deliberate, but I never believed him.’
    He scowled. ‘His son hasn’t done anything to remedy the problems along the course of the river in so much as they affect my being able to scratch a living, and now he’s hatching a scheme to plant woodland that will block access to my cabins. We’ve always had a right of way to the old mill race, and now he thinks he can abandon it because he wants to set up a timber business. Without that footpath people will have to go the long way round to get to the holiday homes. He has a lot to answer for.’ He glowered at her. ‘It grieves me that my own daughter’s getting involved with him.’
    Izzy’s mother arrived back from the shop in time to witness the tension between father and daughter. ‘I knew it,’ she said. ‘As soon as I saw Ross’s car headingup the hill away from here I knew I shouldn’t have left you two together, even for five minutes.’
    She gave Izzy a hug. ‘Lorna put my hotpot in the fridge. Make sure you heat it through thoroughly…and I bought you a jar of coffee from Mary’s shop. I noticed you were running short.’
    ‘Thanks, Mum, you’re an angel.’
    ‘We’d best be going,’ her father said, his tone abrupt. ‘Your gran will be expecting us.’
    Her mother went to the door. ‘Perhaps we’ll see you at the Christmas lights ceremony tomorrow evening?’ she said. ‘I’m running one of the stalls at a community centre…homemade crafts and pots of jam.’
    Izzy embraced her parents and watched them drive away. It was upsetting to argue with her father. Would he ever come to see Ross Buchanan simply as a neighbour? Somehow she doubted it.
    She tried not to think about the troublesome situation, and instead spent time getting on with various chores. Putting away freshly ironed laundry helped to lighten her mood.
     
    The next day in the afternoon she was clearing away brambles from the garden when the phone rang. She hurried to answer it.
    ‘The Mountain Rescue team has been called out.’ Finn, a man in his late thirties who worked six days a week as the village postman, was also a member of the Mountain Rescue group, and now he said, ‘We’ve had reports of a woman who has been injured on a crag by Beinn Dearg. Her companion used her mobile phone to call for help. She said she fell, and can’t move without a lot of pain, sowe have to get to her as soon as possible. I’ve already checked, and there’s no way we’ll be able to get a helicopter out to her, so it means we’re in for a bit of a climb.’
    ‘I’ll get ready,’ Izzy said.
    ‘Good. I’ll come and pick you up in five minutes.’
    Finn was as good as his word, and within a very short time the whole team had assembled. ‘We’ll drive as close as we can to the hills before we need to start the climb,’ Finn told them.
    They started their trek from a forested area, heading for higher ground, keeping a tumbling stream to the left and below them. Izzy was startled to see that Ross had joined them somewhere along the route. ‘You decided to give it a try, then?’ she said.
    ‘I did. I wanted to come out and see if it was something I’d like to do on a regular basis.’ He looked out over the distant mountains. ‘It’s been quite a while since I did any climbing or hill walking. It’s good to be able to help people, of course, and then there’s always the aspect of keeping fit and enjoying the mountain