Page 102 of Wild Scottish Beauty

Two firemen heard me and changed course, headingtoward the front door, when movement showed through the smoke.

My heart caught.

Ramsay stumbled out, a body thrown over his shoulder, and collapsed to his knees outside. Immediately the firefighters converged on him, lifting the body from his shoulders and I broke away from Sophie, racing to his side.

“Ramsay.” I crouched, as he doubled over, his body wracked with coughing, and held him as I looked around for the paramedic. “He needs help.”

“It’s fine,” Ramsay gasped, between coughs.

“Smoke inhalation is no joke.”

And then a flurry of activity descended around us as paramedics nudged me aside to help Ramsay, the firemen started their hose, and general pandemonium ensued. I was pushed back to the edge of the crowd, and I had to wait, helpless, as the shop burned.

Everything except the sign, it seemed.

Ramsay Kilts.

Would he rebuild?

What did this mean for us?

“It was his brother,” Sophie said, joining me, and I gasped, turning to see a sympathetic look in her eyes.

“Andrew did this?”

“That was who he pulled from the fire. Whether he did it or not, I don’t know.”

“Is he …”

“No, he’s not dead. Barely breathing, but not dead.”

A bump at my leg caught my attention, and I looked down to see Calvin twining himself among my legs.

“Oh, buddy. You did good.” I scooped him up into myarms, and he purred against my neck, nuzzling in. “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.”

I had to count my blessings. Calvin was safe, I was safe, and Ramsay would hopefully be fine based on the cursing I’d heard him let loose on the paramedics. His brother had been taken away to the hospital. There wasn’t much else to do but watch the firefighters work.

And so I stood there and watched our dreams burn.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Willow

Ramsay didn’t come home that night.

I’d hoped he would, but he had gone to the hospital for a checkup and to see his brother. He’d been short with me when he’d left, instructing me to go home, and it was hard for me to read what he wanted or needed from me in this moment. Deciding not to push it, I’d agreed to take Calvin home and said I’d hoped to see him later.

But morning had come and there was no text message from him.

Worry filled me.

Needing to know what had happened, I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail which meant either his phone had died or was off. It wasn’t surprising, Ramsay wasn’t much for texting or being on his phone, but Icouldn’t help but wonder what had happened with his brother and if he was feeling okay.

“The brother lived. I hear he’s being charged with arson.” Archie snapped his newspaper closed and held out his hands for Calvin when I arrived in the lounge. Dangling a feather from his basket of flies next to him, he smiled as Calvin rolled on his back and swatted at the toy. “He’s a good cat.”

“He is. He must have gotten away from you yesterday because he’s the one who told me the place was on fire.”

“Is that right?” Hilda asked, swinging into the room with a tray of scones and toast. “How are you able to communicate with him?”

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