Page 57 of Wild Scottish Rose

“Wow, you take care of this place, huh?” I craned my head up at the parapets where saltire flags fluttered in the wind. “What an incredible amount of history there must be here. Is it fascinating to work here?”

“Tours are on the weekend if you’re interested in the history.” Archie slapped his gloves on his hands, ignoring my question about if he enjoyed his work.

“I’ll be sure to take one. Does the tour mention anything about the Kelpies?” I asked, keeping my eyes on his face to gauge his reaction.

“You’ll have to take it and see.” Archie leveled me a look.

“That’s fair.” I nodded. “And yourself? Any old stories running through the legends of Loren Brae you’re keen to share?”

Archie slapped the gloves on his hand again, rocking back on his heels.

“Since you’re a guest of Shona’s, I’ll tell it you straight,” Archie began, and I got the sense that he would gladly kick me ass over end down the hill if I said anything that aggravated him. “We’re a friendly sort, us Scots, but you’re new to town. We don’t know you all that well. Most of us won’t take too kindly to you asking too many questions, you ken?”

Loud and clear.

At least I could appreciate him being straight with me.

Interestingly, Archie looked to be of the same vintage as the gruff boat man, and yet, I couldalmostunderstand every word.It would be fun to listen to him tell his stories, whether it be about the Kelpies or not.He had, however, beenthe first person to be so direct with me, so I thought it best to be direct back.

“And how would you suggest that one circumvent such a dilemma then? If one were so inclined to continue seeking answers to their questions?”

Another man appeared behind Archie, younger and handsome, walking with the confident air of someone who lived on this land. Sir Buster ran to him and growled, but the man just bent and scooped him up.

“Hello.”

“Lachlan, this is Owen. He’s renting Shona’s new holiday cottage. He makes movies. And he’s asking about the Kelpies. The lad’s wondering why people aren’t answering his questions. If there’s a better way to get us to open up to him.”

“Och, well, there sure is, lad.” Lachlan clapped his hand on my shoulder then placed the still-growling Sir Buster on the ground. He raced off, but I was sure I saw him toss me a growly look over his shoulder first. “How deep’s your wallet?”

“Ah, it’s like that then.” I reached for my wallet, but Lachlan waved it away.

“Not here, lad. To the pub we go.”

“To the pub?”

“That’s right, let’s say, we just need to test your mettle first before we have a wee chat.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked to Archie.

“Well, lad? Do you want answers or not?”

I had a feeling I was about to get very drunk. Resigning myself to a wicked hangover, I shrugged.

“All right then, to the pub it is.”

“That’s grand. I’ll just call my mate, Munroe, and we’ll be on our way.” Lachlan whistled for the dogs and disappeared around the corner of the castle, and I couldn’t decide if I was about to be royally hazed or if this would lead to answers.

“Do you like whisky?” Archie asked, rocking back on his heels, an amused light in his eyes.

“Luckily, I do.”

“You’ll do just fine then, lad. Keep your chin up. We’ll sort it out one way or the other.”

Honestly, I couldn’t decide what was more terrifying, going on a bender with a group of Scots I didn’t know who were trying to decide if they could trust me, or whatever it was “sorting it out” entailed in the eyes of Archie.

Either way, I was about to find out.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

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