Page 86 of Wild Scottish Fortune

“Is that right?” I smiled faintly, but my heart wasn’t in it.

What I needed was a plan. A good one.

And it had to start with regaining Orla’s trust.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Orla

Not even Brice cuddling Calvin the cat had been able to shake me from the depths of my despair.

When Lia had found me, still standing outside the cottage, I’d been stuck in shock. Bullying me into her kitchen, she had forced the story from me while mixing up some magickal blend of tea that she’d made me promise to drink once I went home. Because even though she’d done everything she could to get me to stay, I knew where I needed to be.

At home. By myself.

Or with Goldie at least. It was the only thing that I’d been able to use as leverage to get Lia to allow me to leave—that I needed to feed Goldie—and now I stared glumly at my wee fish as she swam in delighted circles around her bowl, attacking the pirate ship I’d refreshed with fish flakes.

Just when you thought you had it all figured out.

I sighed and went to the bathroom, giving myself a wee shock in the mirror. Goodness, maybe I was more hurt than I had realized? Dried blood stained my forehead and cheeks, a rusty sticky brown, and I carefully threaded my hands through my hair to look for the wound. Tilting my head, I found the small cut in my scalp and sighed gratefully. No need for stitches. Head wounds tended to bleed more than necessary, so all I needed was to clean myself up and put a wee plaster on the gouge in my head and I’d be fine. Lia had tried to do it already, but I’d been too on edge to let her touch me, and she’d respected that.

I showered, keeping care to be gentle with myself, and anytime my thoughts landed on Fin, I forced them away. I’d told Lia about Marie and she’d promised to spend some time looking in her spell book to see if there was any mention of her.

At the end of the day, I just felt bad.

I felt sorry for Marie, and a life cut short.

I felt sad for myself and how somehow, I couldn’t manage to keep people in my life.

I felt bad for Fin, who had been so optimistic for a future with me.

I’d never even told him I loved him.

I’d held that part of myself back, maybe because I’d always thought I’d end up right here, alone, crying in the shower.

Pity party table of one.

Sighing, I dried off and wrapped myself in my fluffy robe, stopping at the table where I’d placed the packet of tea. Next to it sat my hammer.

A third gold vine had entwined itself around the handle.

I’d passed all the challenges and was officially a member of the Order of Caledonia. I’d thought I would be happy when I did, but instead I just felt empty inside. Crossing the room, I put the kettle on. I’d promised Lia I would drink her tea tonight, and I didn’t have the heart to let her down. Waiting for the kettle to boil, I turned the packet over and looked at the words written on the wee envelope of tea.

For courage to see just how lovable you are.

The words punched me so hard in the gut that I took a physical step backward.

Such a simple sentiment, but one I’d never considered before. Here I’d always been focused on people leaving me, for whatever reason, and just how awful that felt. But I’d never truly looked deeper to think that I’d internalized that to think I wasn’t lovable. But seeing it here, in front of me, made me realize how much I’d allowed this subliminal belief to drive me.

And was it really true?

Adding the tea to the water, I let it steep while my mind whirled, flipping through a photobook of memories of people I’d met in my life. Was I not lovable? Or had I been loved and people had to leave for their own reasons—none of which truly related to me?

Addiction, a deadly sickness, had claimed my mother.

My aunt, already at poverty level, had still given me a room.

My cousins, barely able to find enough food for themselves, hadn’t had the capacity to care for me. They, too, were just children and younger than me.

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