how my life seems to be a bit... lonely . I’ve only been here a few days, but it seems as if my soul has found a home here in Scotland.” With a sigh and another gulp of her pint, she continued, “I think things will have to change once I return back to the States.” Brigid squeezed Kate’s hand in reassurance, and returned to look out at the crowd.
“Perhaps, your man is closer than you think,” said Kate squeezing Brigid’s hand back.
She managed to shrug and say offhandedly, “Not enough time, unless he’s here in the pub tonight.”
“One never knows, lass,” laughed Kate. “Tell me about your store in Seattle. Do you sell many old antiques?”
Brigid smiled just thinking about her shop—a shop that gave her joy and kept her grounded. A shop to let her explore Scotland until the day she received the sword, sending her on a journey she was still trying to figure out.
As she continued to talk to Kate, Conn strolled over, sitting down across from her. Then Hamish sauntered over bringing them their meal. And what a meal it was. There was shepherd’s pie, cheesy potatoes, and fresh baked bread. More pints were ordered, and the conversation turned livelier. The atmosphere was warm and infused with friendship. Brigid loved every bit of it. It took her mind and heart off her nonexistent love life, and the trip back home, which had left her with a sinking feeling within.
“Oh, look,” exclaimed Brigid. “They’re setting up for the music.”
Conn leaned lightly toward her, since the noise in the pub had risen considerably. “They’re called the Wicked Brothers.”
“Are they really related?” she asked, smiling.
“Nae, not by blood, only by clan.” He leaned back sipping his pint.
The crowd had started to quiet down. A couple of men came over to the table, and Conn introduced them to Brigid as Rory and Liam MacGregor. They had the same build as Conn and similar striking eyes. Rory’s hair was more golden than Conn’s, and Liam’s had reddish hues streaked throughout. She wondered if all of Conn’s cousins were this tall and gorgeous. He explained they were distant cousins. However, Brigid thought they all looked like brothers.
She watched as they bantered back and forth, and at times, it seemed as if they had their own mental conversation going on. They joked with her and asked her if Conn had been taking care of her. Then they would wink at Conn and laugh, as he gave them a scowl.
“Listen, Brigid, if you tire of this old man, just give me call,” spouted Liam with a wink.
Blushing, she just shook her head no. All these men were so ruggedly handsome, but again an ache for someone else skittered across her skin. When she looked into Liam’s eyes, there was a glint of something else, but Rory slapped a hand on his shoulders, and the moment was lost. Brigid had never been the focus of so much attention. She thought herself too tall, too curvy, and hair that at times was just a wild mass of curls.
Sitting back, she told herself she was going to enjoy all of this attention, and the sexy scenery, too. Another round of pints was ordered, and the music started.
The Wicked Brothers played for the crowd for over an hour. Then they started taking requests. Some of the requests were ballads, and others were playful and more current. They became loud and boisterous until they sang the ballads. Brigid knew most of the older ones, and the crowd became silent during the mournful ones. She became tearful just listening to the words and haunting tunes.
Kate was silently weeping as well, and passed her some tissue. Looking up, Brigid saw another man had come forth. “Who’s that?”
“It’s, Tuck, the storyteller,” sniffed Kate. “He is one of the best here in these parts.”
He reminded Brigid of a gnome. His face was old and weathered with deep penetrating eyes that spoke as if they had seen much of this world, and gray hair that stood up in spikes at various places on his head. He placed a
“Perhaps, your man is closer than you think,” said Kate squeezing Brigid’s hand back.
She managed to shrug and say offhandedly, “Not enough time, unless he’s here in the pub tonight.”
“One never knows, lass,” laughed Kate. “Tell me about your store in Seattle. Do you sell many old antiques?”
Brigid smiled just thinking about her shop—a shop that gave her joy and kept her grounded. A shop to let her explore Scotland until the day she received the sword, sending her on a journey she was still trying to figure out.
As she continued to talk to Kate, Conn strolled over, sitting down across from her. Then Hamish sauntered over bringing them their meal. And what a meal it was. There was shepherd’s pie, cheesy potatoes, and fresh baked bread. More pints were ordered, and the conversation turned livelier. The atmosphere was warm and infused with friendship. Brigid loved every bit of it. It took her mind and heart off her nonexistent love life, and the trip back home, which had left her with a sinking feeling within.
“Oh, look,” exclaimed Brigid. “They’re setting up for the music.”
Conn leaned lightly toward her, since the noise in the pub had risen considerably. “They’re called the Wicked Brothers.”
“Are they really related?” she asked, smiling.
“Nae, not by blood, only by clan.” He leaned back sipping his pint.
The crowd had started to quiet down. A couple of men came over to the table, and Conn introduced them to Brigid as Rory and Liam MacGregor. They had the same build as Conn and similar striking eyes. Rory’s hair was more golden than Conn’s, and Liam’s had reddish hues streaked throughout. She wondered if all of Conn’s cousins were this tall and gorgeous. He explained they were distant cousins. However, Brigid thought they all looked like brothers.
She watched as they bantered back and forth, and at times, it seemed as if they had their own mental conversation going on. They joked with her and asked her if Conn had been taking care of her. Then they would wink at Conn and laugh, as he gave them a scowl.
“Listen, Brigid, if you tire of this old man, just give me call,” spouted Liam with a wink.
Blushing, she just shook her head no. All these men were so ruggedly handsome, but again an ache for someone else skittered across her skin. When she looked into Liam’s eyes, there was a glint of something else, but Rory slapped a hand on his shoulders, and the moment was lost. Brigid had never been the focus of so much attention. She thought herself too tall, too curvy, and hair that at times was just a wild mass of curls.
Sitting back, she told herself she was going to enjoy all of this attention, and the sexy scenery, too. Another round of pints was ordered, and the music started.
The Wicked Brothers played for the crowd for over an hour. Then they started taking requests. Some of the requests were ballads, and others were playful and more current. They became loud and boisterous until they sang the ballads. Brigid knew most of the older ones, and the crowd became silent during the mournful ones. She became tearful just listening to the words and haunting tunes.
Kate was silently weeping as well, and passed her some tissue. Looking up, Brigid saw another man had come forth. “Who’s that?”
“It’s, Tuck, the storyteller,” sniffed Kate. “He is one of the best here in these parts.”
He reminded Brigid of a gnome. His face was old and weathered with deep penetrating eyes that spoke as if they had seen much of this world, and gray hair that stood up in spikes at various places on his head. He placed a
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