Page 6 of Wild Scottish Rose

“I’m certain they wouldn’t design something for the ears that would be impossible to extract.”

“Doubtful. I don’t trust them, that’s the truth. Now, did you see your father’s latest? She’s quite the little tart, isn’t she?”

As she’d told me, repeatedly, through the entire wedding weekend. I’d done my best to run interference, having promised Kennedy that I wouldn’t let our parents get into it, and I’d been largely successful.

Except for a minor skirmish in the women’s bathroom, I’m told.

My mother won’t admit to it, and since it didn’t disrupt the flow of the day, I’d let it go. That being said, I did notice my father’s new wife giving my mother a wide berth after,her neat updo slightly disheveled. I suppose if that was the worst of it, I could consider the weekend a success. Kennedy seemed happy, once she’d gotten married, that is, and her poor husband looked to be besotted with her. I wished them all the best, but by the end of the weekend, I was exhausted with navigating the tricky family dynamics. If it hadn’t been for my best friend, Ryan, a childhood friend of mine, being at the wedding, I’d likely be in far worse shape. Instead, I’d surprisingly managed to have some fun, when I wasn’t steering my mother away from the aforementioned “tart.” Tomorrow, I’d meet up with Ryan, who had also stayed after to tour Scotland.

“What are your plans for today?” I couldn’t bear another moment of talking about my father’s new wife, or trying to determine said level of tartness, so I fell back on distraction.

“Well, I’m just too jetlagged to do anything, aren’t I? I’ll have David see to the laundry and get groceries. I need my recovery time after a massive international trip.”

The flight from Glasgow to Maine was just under eight hours. While not the shortest of trips, I’d hardly categorize it as massive. I once did a trip from New York to Perth, Australia. The flights alone were over twenty-three hours, not to mention the layover times between connections. I tuned her out as she ramped up, complaining about all the inconveniences she’d experienced during her travels, and silently saluted the heron when it caught its meal. The rain kicked up, forcing me back inside my car, and I sat behind the driver’s seat, making noncommittal noises, as I plugged in my next destination on the car’s navigation system. A beep had me looking at my phone, and seeing a UK numberthat I didn’t recognize, I interrupted my mother’s flow of words.

“Gotta run, Mom. Call coming in. Glad you’re home safe. Love you.” I clicked over before she could respond, neatly cutting off her conversation. “Yes, hello? This is Owen.”

“Hi, Owen. My name is Agnes, and I’ll start by saying that Ryan is safe.”

“What?” My heartbeat escalated, and I gripped the phone, my focus narrowing to the soft Scottish accent that came through the speaker. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re listed as one of Ryan’s emergency contacts on his iPhone. I’m calling from the hospital. There’s been an…accident.”

“Oh my God. Where? What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s unconscious, but stable. He almost drowned.”

“Drowned?” I blinked at the raindrops splattering on the windshield.Drowned?Ryan was a highly capable swimmer, spending summers at his parents’ lake house, and he’d even been on the swim team in high school. An avid outdoorsman, he’d often be found fishing or boating in the summers. “That’s impossible.”

“Yes, well, the water here is quite cold. His canoe capsized. Hypothermia set in quickly, but luckily, we were able to get to him in time.”

“But…he’s not awake? Not speaking?” My thoughts tumbled in my head as I tried to make sense of what I was hearing. How would his canoe just capsize? What had he been up to?

“Not yet, no.”

“Where are you?” I realized I had no idea what hospitalRyan was at, but I needed to get there,now. I was the closest thing he had to family in Scotland, and his parents would be terribly worried as they wouldn’t be able to get to Scotland quickly.

“We’re at the community hospital about thirty minutes outside Loren Brae.” Agnes waited while I typed in the address to the navigation system.

“I’m an hour away it says.”

“That’s grand then. This is my number, so you’re welcome to call me back. I’ll stay with him until you arrive.”

Grateful for this kind woman, whomever she was, I swallowed against the fear that clutched my throat.

“Thank you.” My voice was shaky, and I realized my palms were sweating. I didn’t make friends easily and didn’t deal with loss well. I couldn’t fathom a world without Ryan in it. He’d been the one constant in my life, frankly one of the few people I trusted as well as I could trust anyone, I suppose. He was whip smart, deeply funny, and missed nothing when it came to the cracks in my armor. “I appreciate you calling me. I’m on my way now.”

“Be careful on the drive. The doctors say he’s stable, so don’t rush. The roads are quite winding as you near the hospital.”

“I’ll be careful.”

With that, Agnes clicked off and I took a moment to steady myself before starting the navigation system. My mind whirled. What could Ryan possibly have been doing for a canoe to capsize under him? Unless he’d hit unforeseen rapids? He would have taken a kayak then, if he’d known he was going to be in rapids. None of it made sense, but what mattered was that I get to Ryan quickly. Keeping my eyesglued to the road, I decided against calling his parents, wanting to see him for myself before I reached out to them.

True to Agnes’s words, the road dipped and dived, curling through the hills and winding along a long stretch of a seemingly endless loch until I neared the location she’d given me. The rain continued, unrelenting, and I’d done my best to proceed at a careful, though hurried, pace. Even so, the trip had taken twenty minutes longer than expected, and by the time I’d reached the hospital, impatience and fear had knotted my neck and shoulders.

“Ryan James,” I said at the front desk, and a slim woman with curls just kissing her chin unfolded herself from a chair in the waiting room and crossed to me.

“Owen? I’m Agnes.”

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