Page 52 of One Bride for Three Single Dads

“Kind of looks like Chattanooga,” Harrison says, leaning his head toward mine.

“I was just thinking that!” I agree. “But different, right? A little… upside down? In a way?”

“I imagine you’ll be pickin’ up right wee differences here and there,” the driver calls out over her shoulder, glancing up at me in the rearview mirror. “There is no place on earth like our fair land. I can tell you that.”

I could listen to her talk all day. Seriously. What an accent.

“What did she say?” Cole asks plaintively.

I squeeze his chubby little knee. He is cranky again. The flight was no fun for him, and he can use another nap. Jet lag is going to be terrible.

But to be quite honest, I am just about tuckered out myself. All those hours in the air taking care of these kids, and taking care of their dads while Boone snored in a chair the entire time…

I think a nap would be good for me, is what I’m saying.

“Hey, do you have any more of those…” Harrison murmurs close to my ear.

It takes me a second to realize what he is asking, and then suddenly I remember…

Cannabis gummies!

“Okay, kids, how about a snack?” I ask with exaggerated excitement.

I know if I pull out a couple of pieces of candy from my pocket, Alexis and Cole are going to be way too intrigued. I need a decoy snack. So I get them set up with some dehydrated fruit slabs before fishing the cellophane pack out of my shirt pocket.

That’s the stuff.

I pick out the green one, my favorite, and hand the others to Harrison. He takes one when the kids aren’t looking, and hands it to Ambrose, who takes the last one.

We glance at each other as we chew, unified in our tiny naughty act.

“I hope privacy is what you’re after!” the driver calls out as we head into another valley.

“Privacy is appreciated,” Ambrose smiles.

“I don’t expect you’ll run into anyone, then,” she nods.

Leaning forward, she gestures over the wheel at a small group of buildings, huddled under an outgrowth of old trees. The roofs are steeply pitched, covered in thick thatch like houses in a storybook.

“That’s your general, there,” she continues. “Your general store. Supplies and such. Then you’ve got your public house, and the post. It’s not a lot, but I imagine they do special orders if you have a need.”

“Okay, good to know,” Ambrose replies.

“What’s a public house? Like a bathroom?” Boone asks innocently.

“Like a bar,” Harrison smirks. “A pub. Get it?”

“A pub,” Boone replies slowly. “Wow. Never thought of that.”

“If you fancy a drink, I could swing you by now,” she offers.

“That’s all right,” Ambrose answers. “We should probably see the house and get settled in.”

“Right you are.”

She flips on the turn signal and moves us away from the few buildings into an even more uninhabited area. The next valley has no signs of life whatsoever. Where the hell are we going?

It’s a full fifteen minutes later before we top the crest of a hill and see both the ocean and the cliffs where we are staying.

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