sometimes pested the Highlands—weren’t out, but the citronella would be handy to have just in case.
“Why don’t you two at least lend me a hand if you’re going to stand there?” Colin had a few more minutes before Rhiannon got here. If worse came to worst, he could toss the two of them inside the cart once he’d emptied it and physically drag them back to Bonnie’s car.
“Can’t we meet Rhiannon MacDowall?” Bonnie asked him. “Pleeaase?”
“No.”
“I don’t see why such it’s a big deal,” Mack said.
Mack wouldn’t; he didn’t know she was agoraphobic, though Bonnie would likely fill him in soon enough.
Colin wished his best friend would give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m just getting to know her again myself,” he said quietly. “Grant me that one small pleasure, will you?”
Mack whistled. “You like her.”
“She’s a childhood friend.”
Mack and Bonnie exchanged smirks.
Colin turned his back on them. He wasn’t saying a word to anyone about how he felt about Rhiannon. She was a childhood friend. Since he was back in Scotland, he wanted to set things right for her.
What she had gone through burned him. All these years he’d assumed she’d been wary of him because of who he was. He hadn’t even considered she’d been traumatized.
Just an eight-year-old girl. Rhiannon. The sweet, pigtailed kid. It infuriated him. It infuriated him even more that it had been bad enough to make her afraid to go out and live her life.
That hadn’t been her personality back when he knew her. Not at all.
His foul mood must have finally sunk in to his friend, because Mack nudged Bonnie. “Let’s go.” To Colin he said, “Join us at the pub tonight.”
Colin just grunted. He wouldn’t be joining them. “Have a good time,” he said.
He glanced at his watch again. He felt antsy, waiting for Rhiannon. He killed a few minutes by hanging some lanterns from tree branches, but that still left him with spare time.
Since when did he wait around for someone like an anxious kid with a crush?
Setting out to find her, Colin took the walking path toward the castle.
The afternoon sun had lengthened and stretched and was fast sinking into evening. He set a quick pace. Whistled a tune. That way, if she was heading toward him, she would have advance notice and wouldn’t be frightened.
He first saw her when he came over a slight crest. She was about fifty feet away.
“Rhiannon!” He raised a hand to her. She strode briskly, a golden retriever on a leash trotting ahead of her, slightly pulling her along.
Feeling himself smiling, he craned his neck to study her. She’d changed from the halter top he’d liked so much into a loose-fitting peasant-type shirt. The sleeves were short, with elastic around the edges so they puffed out, making her look like a Gypsy. She’d pinned one of his grandmother’s rose buds into her hair, and she wore a long, jersey-type skirt that swirled and clung to her legs in interesting ways as she strode.
Just...damn.
“Hey,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat to her as she came alongside him.
“Hello, Colin.” Breathless with walking, she had apple-shaded cheeks. Shyly, she glanced up at his face as they both stopped. She seemed anxious, too.
“I hope you don’t mind dogs,” she said.
“Mind ’em? I love ’em.” Colin bent to the golden retriever’s height and held out his hand. The dog, skittish from what looked to be a bandaged front leg, sniffed at Colin’s skin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”
“This is Molly. She’s recently home from the vet. I would have left her with Paul, but she’s eager to get outside again.”
“Molly, huh?” The dog was now curiously licking Colin’s skin. Her tongue was scratchy—it made Colin smile. “Did you name her after someone?”
“She’s, uh, my mother’s dog. All her dogs are named Molly.” Rhiannon paused, still awkward. “Molly was the name she gave her first dog as a girl, and ever
“Why don’t you two at least lend me a hand if you’re going to stand there?” Colin had a few more minutes before Rhiannon got here. If worse came to worst, he could toss the two of them inside the cart once he’d emptied it and physically drag them back to Bonnie’s car.
“Can’t we meet Rhiannon MacDowall?” Bonnie asked him. “Pleeaase?”
“No.”
“I don’t see why such it’s a big deal,” Mack said.
Mack wouldn’t; he didn’t know she was agoraphobic, though Bonnie would likely fill him in soon enough.
Colin wished his best friend would give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m just getting to know her again myself,” he said quietly. “Grant me that one small pleasure, will you?”
Mack whistled. “You like her.”
“She’s a childhood friend.”
Mack and Bonnie exchanged smirks.
Colin turned his back on them. He wasn’t saying a word to anyone about how he felt about Rhiannon. She was a childhood friend. Since he was back in Scotland, he wanted to set things right for her.
What she had gone through burned him. All these years he’d assumed she’d been wary of him because of who he was. He hadn’t even considered she’d been traumatized.
Just an eight-year-old girl. Rhiannon. The sweet, pigtailed kid. It infuriated him. It infuriated him even more that it had been bad enough to make her afraid to go out and live her life.
That hadn’t been her personality back when he knew her. Not at all.
His foul mood must have finally sunk in to his friend, because Mack nudged Bonnie. “Let’s go.” To Colin he said, “Join us at the pub tonight.”
Colin just grunted. He wouldn’t be joining them. “Have a good time,” he said.
He glanced at his watch again. He felt antsy, waiting for Rhiannon. He killed a few minutes by hanging some lanterns from tree branches, but that still left him with spare time.
Since when did he wait around for someone like an anxious kid with a crush?
Setting out to find her, Colin took the walking path toward the castle.
The afternoon sun had lengthened and stretched and was fast sinking into evening. He set a quick pace. Whistled a tune. That way, if she was heading toward him, she would have advance notice and wouldn’t be frightened.
He first saw her when he came over a slight crest. She was about fifty feet away.
“Rhiannon!” He raised a hand to her. She strode briskly, a golden retriever on a leash trotting ahead of her, slightly pulling her along.
Feeling himself smiling, he craned his neck to study her. She’d changed from the halter top he’d liked so much into a loose-fitting peasant-type shirt. The sleeves were short, with elastic around the edges so they puffed out, making her look like a Gypsy. She’d pinned one of his grandmother’s rose buds into her hair, and she wore a long, jersey-type skirt that swirled and clung to her legs in interesting ways as she strode.
Just...damn.
“Hey,” he said, tipping an imaginary hat to her as she came alongside him.
“Hello, Colin.” Breathless with walking, she had apple-shaded cheeks. Shyly, she glanced up at his face as they both stopped. She seemed anxious, too.
“I hope you don’t mind dogs,” she said.
“Mind ’em? I love ’em.” Colin bent to the golden retriever’s height and held out his hand. The dog, skittish from what looked to be a bandaged front leg, sniffed at Colin’s skin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”
“This is Molly. She’s recently home from the vet. I would have left her with Paul, but she’s eager to get outside again.”
“Molly, huh?” The dog was now curiously licking Colin’s skin. Her tongue was scratchy—it made Colin smile. “Did you name her after someone?”
“She’s, uh, my mother’s dog. All her dogs are named Molly.” Rhiannon paused, still awkward. “Molly was the name she gave her first dog as a girl, and ever
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