Page 8 of Loyally, Luke
“A fake castle, so to speak. The vastly rich at the time liked to show off, kind of the same as they do now.” Pete chuckled. “When the war broke out, the Scot lost both his sons early on and in his grief returned home to Edinburgh, leaving the place furnished and untouched. News reached him of the large number of war orphans in Skymar, so he donated the folly for use as an orphanage and it’s only grown since then. He kinna have chosen a better lot to guard his castle, though. The folks in the village take pride in hosting the largest orphanage in Skymar and being the homeplace for these kids.” Pete shot him a wink. “Can’t get better protection than a bunch of Scots. Or better stubbornness.” He shrugged. “Or pride.”
If the movies could be trusted, Luke would agree. Made him like the place even better.
Smatterings of children ran here and there across the lawns surrounding the folly, all ages, each in various states of winter dress. Their voices filtered over the crunch of gravel under wheels. Joyful sounds.
Something inside Luke’s chest expanded a little. The idea of working on a castle didn’t encourage a lot of peace of mind, but fixing up a place for kids sure did.
Pete brought the car to a stop beneath a portico at the front door.
Cool March wind bit into his face as he exited the car, inciting another smile. He loved this kind of weather. Crisp, cold, with the scent of pine on the breeze.
Then he looked behind him and realized, besides isolation, why someone would build a castle out here in the middle of nowhere.
The view.
Over the forest, the world fell away to reveal dozens of mountain peaks with lakes cutting between them like rain puddles, before all the earthen colors ended in a horizon of dueling blues. Sky and... sea? He squinted, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh air. They could view the sea from here?
“Aye,” Pete said, moving to his side. “A good and proper view.”
Those words seemed much too weak to truly describe the scene in front of them, but since Luke couldn’t quite think of worthy ones, he only replied with a nod.
“You’re not much of a talker, are you?”
Luke looked over at the younger man. “No, not much of one.”
“That must mean you’re a good listener.” Pete grinned and stepped toward the front door of the castle. “Which suits me.”
His laughter reverberated off the stone of the portico, drawing Luke’s attention toward the arched ceiling. Stone bricks patterned in diamonds stretched the length of the portico ceiling, displaying solid workmanship and craft.
Maybe fixing up a castle wouldn’t be so bad after all.
And Luke liked working with stone.
“Luke, come meet Mrs.Kershaw?”
Luke looked over to find Pete standing next to an older woman before a set of large wooden double doors. Her soft gray-and-brown hair pulled back in a bun matched the softness of her eyes as he approached.
“Ma’am.” Luke offered his hand and her smile brimmed.
“We’re so glad to have you take a keek at our orphanage, Mr.Edgewood.” She gestured for them to follow her inside. “Mr.Holton is in my office waiting for us, but he assures me you come highly recommended.”
A flush of heat rose into Luke’s neck. “I know buildings and stonework, but I’ve not worked on anything this grand before.”
“Well, if you know a way to salvage our beloved building, you’llbe a hero in my book.” She gave him another kind smile and continued leading them through a large entry hall.
Salvage the whole building? What was she talking about? He would have asked, if he hadn’t been distracted by the grandness of it all. A double-story entry, half in stone, half in dark oak. Arched windows on each side, partly filled with stained glass. Stone columns, easily three feet around, lining the way. He’d never stepped foot in a church this big, let alone someone’s house.
As they turned down a nearby hallway, a movement to Luke’s right caught his attention. Two little girls, probably nine or ten years old, peered around one of the columns, contrasting in looks, but wearing similar smiles. The pale-faced redhead wore a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks, her pale eyes wide. Her darker-skinned partner-in-peeking had even darker hair curled in tight braids around her head, the shade matching her large eyes.
His grin crooked.
Just before he disappeared into a room following Mrs.Kershaw, he shot the girls a wink.
A trill of giggles chased him into the room before the door closed.
He’d never get tired of that sound. Happy kids. A sound everyone should want to recreate in children.
Inside, a middle-aged man in a gray suit stood from one of the high-back chairs. He looked important and polished, with a well-practiced smile. Luke immediately thought “politician” but decided to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. No one needed that sort of first impression.
