Page 71 of Wild Scottish Fortune

This weird ghost woman who had provided me protection and guidance for much of my life… In some respects, she’d been a North Star to me when I was most lost. I don’t think I’d ever examined my true thoughts or feelings for her, and now as I watched her slowly approach Elspeth, I realized how much I’d grown to care for her through the years.

“Will you help her? She’s a lost traveler. And I think she needs our love.”

The Green Lady stopped in front of Elspeth, and the two stared at each other. Clyde rolled over and pranced back to my side, as we watched the two ghosts regard each other.

I had a little girl once. One that I loved very much.

My heart twisted at the Green Lady’s words.

“Will you help her home?”

Aye, I’ll do so.

The Green Lady reached out a hand and Elspeth took it, the two winking out of sight before I could even let out a breath. Tears sprung to my eyes. I knew so little about the Green Lady, not even her name, as she’d spent so much of her time selflessly being a guiding force for me. Now as I realized just how much of a history she must have, my heart ached for her.Would she let me in? Would she let me know her?—

“Orla? What are you doing here?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Finlay

I’d been driving home from a late meeting with a potential new supplier for botanicals when I’d felt the urge to swing past my new house. I was still living in my rental cottage, knowing my new house would need some shining up before I could fully move in, and I was looking forward to the challenge of making it my new home. Particularly because I knew I could wheedle Orla into giving design advice. I loved how cozy she’d made her cottage but had also kept it streamlined and functional without too much clutter. I hoped she’d be able to guide me in the same direction.

When I’d seen her lorry and the light spilling from the window, I immediately pulled over, annoyance lacing through me. Did this woman ever stop working? It was far too late for her to be at my house, making notes onprojects that needed to get done, and I planned to tell her.Even if I had to tuck her into bed myself.The damn woman needed rest, not to be burning the candle at both ends.

What I hadn’t expected was to find Orla crying, alone, in my upstairs bedroom. Instantly, I crossed the room and lifted her into my arms, carrying her downstairs and into the light-filled living room where the only piece of furniture—a faded couch draped in dust cloths—sat. Dropping onto the sofa, I cradled her on my lap, stroking my hands up and down her back.

“Shhh, darling. Shhh. I’m here. What’s happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I’m fine. I swear.” Orla batted at my hands, trying to shift herself off my lap, but I was used to this by now. She always pulled back from my touch, but there was no way I’d let her close up on me, not when she was in a state like this.

“Tell me what’s happened.” I held her close, and she rested her head on my shoulder, finally stopping her attempts to push me away.

“Och, it’s nothing, Fin. Just having a moment.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Orla shifted, a note of distress in her voice.

“Just spontaneous crying on job sites? Is this how you secure all your jobs then? You cry and they feel bad, so you get the work?”

Orla poked me in the ribs, and I laughed.

“Rude.”

“Is it because you’re in love with me and you’re worriedI’ll wallpaper the room mustard yellow when you really want it to be pink?”

Orla sighed and poked me again, gouging her finger in deeper this time.

“You can do whatever you like in your own home.”

“Great, mustard it is.”

“Such a soothing color,” Orla said.

“If you don’t like it, now’s the time to speak up.”

“Wouldn’t you want like a soft blue or a sage green? Something relaxing?”

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