Page 64 of Wild Scottish Fortune

Seconds before the stream of pee would hit the statue, Orla managed to pull the dog back so it only splattered atthe feet of the wee gnome. I could have sworn the statue’s face grew angrier, but surely that was just my imagination, and I bit back a laugh.

“Harris! No peeing on the nice garden statues,” I said to the dog, dropping the cooler on the table. “Here, I brought you a toy.”

Orla was bent over the statue, whispering, and I squinted at her.

“All good there?”

“Och, just apologizing to the wee…I mean, just seeing if any got on the statue.” Orla gave me a guilty look. “Shona’s been so kind to have us, I’d feel bad for Harris ruining one of her things.”

“It looked like you caught him in time.”

“Stubborn boy.” Orla ruffled Harris’s ears and took the tennis ball I handed her. “Up for some ball?”

Harris jumped, wriggling his body in delight, and it seemed he was indeed up for some ball. Orla tossed it across the grass and Harris took off running, chasing it down before racing back, his ears flopping in the wind.

“Oh just look at him go! He’s so happy. Thank you, Fin. He needed this.”

“Looks like you both did.”

“I think you’re right.” Orla beamed as Harris dropped the already sloppy ball at her feet. “I love him so much.”

I’d spoken with the shelter owner this morning. We all knew how much Harris loved Orla, but also that she refused to get a dog with her long work hours. I respected her for that, but we were going to try and come up with a solution. Maybe one that would benefit us all. I had to think on it some more, but for now this wastoday’s solution—an afternoon in the sunshine with Harris’s and my best girl.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like for a picnic, so I kind of went with everything.” I unpacked the cool box, laying out cold cut meats, slices of deli cheese, several types of bread, sauces, two different salads, three kinds of crisps, and a jar of pickles. Orla’s mouth dropped open as I pulled out two small cakes as well.

“Fin, we’re never going to be able to eat all that.”

“Nae bother.” I laughed. “I’ll pack it back in the cooler and we can have sandwiches for the week then.”

“That’s sensible.” Orla bit her lower lip, worrying. “I hate wasting food.”

“Nope, we’ll get through it, one way or the other, I promise.” I was about to ask her if she had a favorite meal growing up, maybe one for Christmas dinner or the like, but realized she might not have had much choice in what she ate. Instead, I shifted gears as I opened a can of juice and poured a glass for her. I hadn’t brought wine, since we’d both be driving. “Tell me, how are things going down at the kilt shop? Such a shame, that fire.”

“Right? Sad about it being Ramsay’s brother too.” Orla shook her head, her lips pursed. “Just goes to show that a lot of people have awful families.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the truth of it.”

Orla glanced at me and winced, her cheeks pinkening.

“I wasn’t implying your?—”

“No, it’s fine. Even if you were, I’m still raging about how she treated you at the gala. I hope you know that was truly the last straw for me.”

“Fin.” Orla turned to me, leaning over the table to grabone of my hands. I liked when she touched me without thinking, since she so easily pulled back from me most times. “I don’t want to be the thing that comes between you and your mum. You need to fix this.”

“Do I?” I studied her, trailing my finger lightly across her knuckles, brushing my thumb over the palm of her hand. She sucked in a breath at my touch, and I continued, wanting her to get used to my hands on her. “Why?”

“Because she’s family.”

“So?”

“Family is everything.” Orla’s eyes were wide as she studied me.Who was her family and why did she end up alone?Those were the questions I wanted to ask, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. That was given when she knew me better. Trusted me with her secrets. Her past.

Just then,a bird chirped over us, having found a spot in the branches, and another answered merrily. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, and a light breeze carried the scent of wildflowers to us. I could see Orla’s point about family, but I wondered where that conviction came from. Especially if she didn’t have a family.

“Do you really believe that?”

I wanted to know her answer to this, because that particular phrase was often repeated, with little evidence to back it up.

---