Page 8 of Wild Scottish Fortune

The old man had been right.

I now had what to most might not seem like much, but to me it was a veritable fortune. A solid work lorry, a successful business, and my very own one-room cottage that seemed as opulent as MacAlpine Castle, at least to me. Someday, when I had time, I planned to add a sunroom to the back of the cottage. A place where I could have a few plants and crochet in peace at the end of a long day.

Detouring toward the outbuilding, I picked my way along the uneven ground, the light growing dim around me. Perhaps I should save this for tomorrow. But if I could at least get a sense of what was haunting this cottage, I could do some research tonight.

Maybe I could free it.

Maybe not.

I was still learning about all this ghost stuff, since it had only been a year or two since I’d started seeing more of them.

Yes, more.

There was one that had been with me for a long time.

I used to think of her as my imaginary friend. Until I’d grown too old to believe in imaginary friends and realized that all of those late-night conversations I was having were either with a walking, talking delusion, or I, indeed, had a ghost who visited me regularly.

It took a while to accept the ghost aspect over the delusions, to be honest.

“Orla!”

I jumped, pulled from my thoughts, as Sophie, the new owner of MacAlpine Castle, called to me from across the garden. The dogs were with her, and at her shout, they turned and raced toward me. Joyimmediately flooded me at their approach. Meeting them halfway, I crouched to pet Lola while Sir Buster did his act where he pretended to want nothing to do with me.

Such bluster.

I understood it, though. The tough guy act. I’d had to put it on enough in my own life, hadn’t I?

“Hiya, Sophie. How are you getting on then?”

“Great, thanks. I was hoping to catch you.” Sophie, a fresh-faced American, with strawberry-blonde hair, a friendly manner, and welcoming smile always put me at ease. I liked her. She said what was on her mind, and I appreciated not having to navigate things left unsaid, unlike with Finlay.

“Were you headed to that building?” Sophie inclined her head to the outbuilding behind me. “I didn’t realize you’d started work on that yet.”

“Was just planning to have a wee look.” I tossed a look over my shoulder at the cottage, a flicker of movement catching my eye through the dirty window.

“By yourself? Even though it’s haunted?”

At that, I turned and gave Sophie a surprised look.

“You’ve heard that as well then?”

“Of course. Your crew talks.” Sophie gave me a considering look. “Want me to come with?”

“Youwantto go in a haunted building?”

“I live in a haunted building.” Sophie shrugged.

At that, I caught sight of a highland coo sneaking up behind her, and my eyes widened until the light caught him just right and I realized it wasn’t a real coo. Well, it was, but he was a ghost.

Och, thiswas a first.

I opened my mouth to say something, but then, not wanting to appear unbalanced to the owner of the castle, I snapped my lips shut. The coo crept closer, like a wee cat sneaking up on a mouse, and my mind whirled. What was he trying to do? Was he going to pounce on her?

Sophie caught my look and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“Um, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” I didn’t like to lie, but I wasn’t entirely sure how Sophie would respond to me seeing ghosts, so I protected myself first. Always.

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