“But . . . I haven’t seen or spoken to him since he stormed off after the hike.”
“About that . . . according to Isla, it seemed like you really pissed him off—which is not the story you gave me.”
My eyes narrow. “What do you mean, according to Isla? When did you speak to her?”
“Yesterday.” The smallest of smirks pulls at the corners of Dakota’s mouth. “I was stocking up on your Dundee cake supply.”
“Oh, don’t you dare use me as an excuse to go into the bakeshop. We all know why you were there. And you didn’t even come home with Dundee cake. You came home with shortbread.”
“Which you ate all of.” She lifts a brow.
“Boredom eating is a real thing,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “But that’s beside the point. You were talking about me?”
“No,” Dakota sighs. “Isla asked how you were doing after being stuck up on the mountain with Rowan during the rainstorm. Ever since he lost his brother—”
“Wait, what?” I ask, sitting taller. “Rowan has a brother?”
“Had,” Dakota says quietly. “Isla didn’t get into it, and I didn’t pry. All I know is that he doesn’t like serious rainstorms. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t too harsh on you. Last time they were stuck on a mountain together when it was storming, Rowan apparently lost his mind. It took some time to calm him down.”
“Oh my God,” I just about whisper as I think back to our hike, how I carelessly disregarded his warnings and his persistent need to make it down the hill before the rain became too strong. The tension in his back every time I slipped, his stern grip as we walked through mud. His demeanor after we stepped off the trail.
Anger.
Distress.
Relief.
Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like an ass.
“I had no idea,” I say softly.
“Apparently he holds it all in—which explains why he’s so grumpy and standoffish. From what Isla alluded to, there seems to be some darkness in Rowan’s family. So yeah, even if you two aren’t getting along right now, maybe cut him some slack. Don’t go full Bonnie on him.”
“Too late.” I cringe.
Begging for forgiveness from Mother Nature over littering . . . yup, I went full Bonnie on him . . . while he was in the midst of panicking.
Really great, Bonnie. Just perfect.
“Hey, Shona,” I say, walking into the Mill Market.
The quaint shop can best be described as what would happen if someone blasted Target with a shrink gun and then redecorated with Scottish charm. Its baskets overflow with fruits and vegetables. Its wooden shelves are perfectly stocked. And its beautiful plank wood floors wave and roll with the earth beneath it. Just like Target, the Mill Market has almost everything you could need. Unlike Target, it all comes in small quantities.
“Hello, Dakota.”
“I’m Bonnie, actually,” I chuckle.
“Och. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “Blame it on the old-lady brain.”
“Not a problem at all.”
“Anything I can help you find?”
I walk past a display of haggis and mushy peas and feel my bones shiver from the inside out. I know other countries probably balk at the idea of putting peanut butter and jelly on a sandwich, but at least it isn’t a can of harvested sheep innards.
“Looking for a notepad and fun pens.”
“Aye, right this way.”
She walks out from behind the counter and guides me down a small aisle, past the fruits and vegetables, past the meat and dairy cases, and into a small section stocked full of household items.
Pots, pans, kitchen utensils, greeting cards, wrapping paper, toys, and school supplies.
“Here ya go, lass. We have a few notebooks that might tickle yer fancy.” She lifts one up from the little stack on the shelf. “This has a goat on it—reminds me of Fergie, the old man. Take this one—it will bring good luck.”
“Okay,” I say, glancing at the others and noticing they all have goats on them. Gives me something to share with Fergus. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.
“And fun pens . . . well, all we have are these Flair pens. A pack of black, red, and blue. I can put in an order for some other ones if you’d like.”
I take the familiar pens along with the notebook. “These will be just fine, thank you.”
“Of course. Do you need anything else? We just got a fresh shipment of Curly Wurlys, and they’re quite divine, if you’ve never tried one before.”