Fiona snagsa pair of breeches and a blouse, motioning for me to duck into a more private nook.
“Let’s get ye out of that nightie,” she says with a wink. With the ease of two moms swapping yoga pants for jeans, she helps me wriggle into the outfit.
“There, now you’re ready to conquer the Highlands—or at least not flash them,” Fiona grins, and I pull her into a warm, grateful hug.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Fi pulls back, eyes twinkling with a conspiratorial glint. "Ye know, lass, women in these parts aren't supposed to be warriors," she leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I've seen the fire in ye, the courage. Let me get ye something to defend yerself properly."
Before I can respond, she's already whisking me down the creaky back stairs, her excitement infectious. We tiptoe through the dimly lit hallway, trying to suppress our giggles as we make our way to her mother's kitchen. It's a cozy, bustling little space filled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread—a place that feels like the heart of the home.
Fiona scans the room like a secret agent on a mission, her eyes alighting on the perfect item. With a triumphant grin, she retrieves a hefty rolling pin from the counter, holding it up like a prized artifact.
"This," she declares, "is your weapon."
I let out a snort, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "A rolling pin? Seriously?"
"Seriously," Fiona nods, her expression earnest yet playful. "It's versatile, solid, and trust me, no one expects a rolling pin to come swingin’ their way."
I take my new weapon, feeling its weight and imagining the surprise on our rivals’ faces. I prefer to be offered a sword, but this should do the trick for now. Somehow, it feels right.
Standingat the edge of our final adventure, I’m swept up in a wave of affection for these extraordinary people. They’ve taken us in like we were their own, treating us more like family than friends. Silently, I wish them peace and prosperity in this quaint little village that has become our temporary sanctuary.
Do Cal and I have a shot at forever?
Who knows? Is there anyone who can claim to be an expert at making love last? Or picking shoes, for that matter?
There’s no secret handbook detailing whether the shoes we buy or the lovers we find are meant for one wild night, one season of comfort, or guaranteed for a lifetime of strolls. When it comes to love, the truth is, we’re all just winging it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
My boot slipson the uneven terrain, sending me lurching forward. My heart thuds in my chest as I teeter precariously on the edge of a dark pit that materializes from nowhere. I catch myself just in time, but it’s a close call. The forest floor is littered with leaves and branches, doing a poor job of hiding the dangerous drop beneath.
“Steady on, Mills,” Cal says, his strong hand anchoring me. His eyes scan our surroundings, a furrow forming between his brows. “Looks like we’ve walked right into an unexpected ‘surprise.’”
I peer into the ominous hole at our feet, still feeling my pulse pound from the near-miss. It reeks of sabotage—probably another trick from the rival clan to slow us down on our journey to Loch Ness. Sneaky buggers.
“But how did they know we’re heading for Loch Ness?” I mutter, disbelief seeping into my voice.
Cal sighs deeply. “That’d be Gregor Campbell’s doing,” he admits. “Alistair warned me about him always being one step ahead. He and his brother Malcom took ye. They’ve probably been tracking us since we arrived.”
“Because we sound different?” I muse aloud.
Cal grins sheepishly at me. “Your English was a dead giveaway,” he confesses. “We both tried to pass our dialect off as Scots, but... well... Scots isn’t really the main language yet here. Dinna fass. It’s not yer fault, lass. Gregor and his gang are always itching for conflict.”
“But Cal,” I interject softly, plucking nervously at the edge of his MacDowell tartan kilt, “it’s not only me I’m concerned about.”
He silences me with a gentle hush and a finger against my lips. But I won’t let him downplay the gravity of our situation.
“It’s not just that I’d be devastated if anything happened to you,” I blurt out, “If something were to happen... it could mean disaster for all of Aven Valley! Without the MacDowells... what would become of the village? Who would continue your family’s legacy?”
He locks eyes with me, his gaze intense and unyielding. “So, we don’t get caught,” he says. “That’s all there is to it.”
“Well, good thing I’ve got my rolling pin,” I pull the wooden weapon out from its snug hiding place in the back of my breeches and swing it about with a smirk, “and wore my trusty combat boots,” I tap my boot against a nearby rock. “Wouldn’t want me tripping at a crucial moment.”
Cal shakes his head in amusement. “Yer readiness is truly impressive,” he teases. “Who knew we’d face death traps tonight?” His tone is light, but his shoulders are tense as he scans our surroundings.
I shrug nonchalantly, adrenaline still pumping through my veins. “Just a hunch,” I reply coolly. “A girl needs to be prepared when she’s romping around the Scottish Highlands with a handsome rogue like you.”
