Page 14 of Some Like It Scot
The shops seemed to have a little bit of everything, kind of like the colors of the buildings. A steeple rose from a church secluded behind a veil of trees in the distance up from the main street. Then my attention focused on a beautiful yellow building with the sign “Mirren’s Books” on the front.
Mirren’s large sign read: “Visitor’s Centre, Books & Tackle.”
My lips formed a smirk. Quite the combination.
The sudden jingling of a bell sounded behind me, spoiling the midmorning quiet.
“Comin’ through!” came a youthful and somewhat frantic call along with the bell.
I turned just in time to see a raven-haired girl whizzing down the street toward me on a bicycle. Her hair flew in all directions as the bike approached at an alarming speed.
The earlier warmth of the sun dissipated from my body and I froze in place.
“Get out of the way! My brakes is gone!”
And that was the second time I saw my life flash before my eyes since coming to Scotland.
Chapter 4
Katie
Just as the cycling siren neared enough for me to see the whites of her eyes, my sloshy tennis shoes and I jumped to the side, landing in a magnificent mud puddle and clearing the way for the homicidal mini-cyclist to zoom past.
She shot a toothy grin over her shoulder, and I’m pretty sure my jaw slacked.
The little rascal!
If my eyes shot lasers, little Miss “My brakes is gone!” would have an exploded tire. I stared at the girl’s retreating silhouette as I pulled myself from the tiny pond from which I’d landed and shook out my shoes.
“I see you survived Kirsty and her dreaded bicycle.”
A woman about my mom’s age stood just outside the door of Mirren’s. She wore a patterned dress with a red cardigan over it, and her dark hair fell to her shoulders in waves.
“So that happens often?” I took a few steps toward her welcoming smile, the squishing-shoe sounds keeping time with my words.
“Aye.” Her pale eyes twinkled. “Some of us thinks there’s naught wrong with her brakes and she merely likes to terrify folks to an early grave. Like her dad, that one.”
My grin responded to her humor without hesitation. Her accent probably helped too. “I think my heart might have stopped there for a second.” I patted my chest and closed the distance. “But since my life follows a series of unexpected accidents, I think I’ll survive.” I lookedback in the direction the little girl had left. “And I’ll know to keep my eye out for her next time.”
“Both eyes.” The woman pointed toward her own. “If I was you,especiallywith that one.”
Oh, I liked this lady. With a renewed smile, I offered my hand. “Katie Campbell.”
“Campbell.” Her dark brows rose as she examined my face and took my hand. “Have you tossed that name around the village much?”
My smile resurrected. “My taxi driver told me to be careful with it since I was in McClean country and might find myself on the wrong side of a claymore.”
Her laugh burst out in such an infectious way, it made me want to hug her. “Aye, if you’d lived here a few centuries ago.” She wiped her eyes and looked back up at me. “But I think you’re safe in this century if you stay away from certain villages. Though, if you’re keen to learn more about it, Duart Castle is the site of one of the many battles between the McCleans and Campells.”
Had I seen something about Duart Castle on a map?
“It’s naught a half hour drive from here and has a braw view.”
“Then I’ll definitely add it to my list of sites to see on Mull.”
“I s’pose you have some Scottish heritage in ye?”
“Aye.” I tried the word out. “My grandfather was a first-generation Scottish American and Scotland’s biggest fan.”
