Page 79 of Geordie

“Is Lily with them?”

“No, it appears Harv, a lovely man, is in charge of the crew. Was she supposed to be here?”

“She didn't say; I was just curious. I've finished dropping the last load of pine boughs, ribbons, and dried fruit at the Arms. I'm heading back to the offices now.”

“That reminds me, the bronze placard for the barn arrived. I'll have a worker replace the wooden one, or would you like to do the honors?”

We dubbed that great behemoth of a barn the MacTavish Arms, as a nod to the old public houses in Edinburgh. The place is used for weddings, corporate events, and our Winemaker's dinners that we hold in the summer and fall. We redesigned it to replicate a great room in a manor house and with the heavy boughs of greenery and holiday decorations, we transformed the space into 18th century Scotland.

If Lochlan was here, we would have devised an impromptu ceremony to rededicate the barn, something with just the two of us. It doesn't seem right, him not being here for the event. This will be the first Winemaker's Dinner he's missed.

“Ask them to mount the new one, but save the wooden placard. We'll display it in the main tasting room.”

“That's a wonderful idea. I'll let them know. Will I have you here all day or will you go home to change? If you leave, remember you need to say something to the crew at the lunch we provided.”

I pull the truck up near the back entrance to the winery, watching workers crisscross the yard. I'd still have to walk a distance to be in the same area as Layla. I sit, idling the engine, until our conversation is done.

Tonight, Connell and I will be in formal kilts, as well as any of the guests who claim Scottish heritage, which appears to be growing each year. The male wine-tasting room associates will be our servers. They'll join us in a dress kilt, white shirt, and black vest. We asked the female tasting room associates if they wanted to work the event, but they opted to accept our invitation to join the dinner with a guest and dress up in their finest to be waited on by their co-workers.

“I'll be staying,” I say, looking out over the yard. “I'll change in Lochlan's old apartment on-site. Tell Connell he's welcome to use the apartment as well and he can join me for a dram of whiskey before the event.”

“Will do. I'll let you know if I need your help.”

I switch off the engine. The shouts of instructions and grunts of labor drift inside the cabin of the truck. This event has taken on a life of its own. We've earned an announcement and review in theScots in Callie, a website and podcast about the Scottish community in California. We've welcomed guests as far as Canada, South America, and Australia for the dinners; the attendee list grows with every dinner.

Lochlan hasn't occupied his apartment for more than a year. The times I visited this place in the past are still vivid. It feels like my brooding cousin is still here, that he'll step back into the room at any moment, grumbling about something.

It sits in a block of buildings that was first erected when we took ownership of the land. Those first years, we worked long into the night here planning our vineyard.

“How do I look?” A tall, broad shouldered Connell steps into the room, every inch a Highlander in his dress. He could be a cousin of the MacTavish except for the sun-blond hair. He'll be a needed distraction tonight for the ladies… and some males as well.

“You look classy in your kit,” I say, pulling down Lochlan's premium whiskey from the cabinet and splashing the amber liquid into two waiting glasses. I pick up both, handing one to Connell. He looks into the glass.

“Do you think this will calm the butterflies threatening to burst from my chest?”

“I think if you drink enough of this elixir, you won't care. Slàinte Mhath,” I say, touching his glass and taking a healthy sip. The joke doesn't appear to relieve his nerves. “No one knows more about the wine than you. You'll do fine. The nerves go away after the wine is introduced at the first course. I'll be by your side at the head table, ready to insert levity when needed.” His brows draw together at the thought. I slap him on the shoulder. “Never at your expense, laddie, you have nothing to fear.”

We take the Range Rover onto the service road to avoid the stream of guests walking to the barn. Evening falls like a curtain as the lights wink on in the trees and along the crushed granite walkway.

When we enter the back door, Layla is there, ready to greet us. “I was just about to call to see if you were on your way.” She steps back, her gaze taking in the two of us. We must look like a pair of salt and pepper shakers, Connell the fair salt and me the auburn pepper. She smiles. “You two clean up well. I judge you pass muster.”

Layla is glittering in dark blue with specs to match. I grab her hand to whirl her around. “And you look bonnie, Layla. Careful you don't steal my heart.”

She tries to disapprove, but she can't hide the deep blush of her cheeks. “You're too much of a devil, Geordie MacTavish. Go out and meet the guests.”

I slide my gaze to Connell and give him a nod. We both turn to give her a courtly bow. She leaves, dress sparkling, muttering about the antics of children.

“Should we go into the main hall now?” Connell asks.

“You can go ahead. I want to check on the Dalliance crew.”

I open the door to chaos as preparations are still underway. The kitchen crew is loading wee dishes on trays to offer to the guests as they gather before the official start of dinner. A tall, older man breaks away from a table, striding toward me. “Mr. MacTavish, I'm Harv. I'm running the crew tonight in Lily's absence.”

“Please call me Geordie. Is Lily coming?”

“I spoke to her a few hours after her plane landed. I'm sure she's on her way. Don't worry, we have everything under control here. I'll let you know if I hear from her, but I'm betting she's about to walk through the door at any time.”

I fight the urge to call Lily to see where she is. It's not good to be this anxious about her arrival, but I need to see her. “Thank you. I'll let you get on with it.”

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