Chapter One
Setting off
Beatrice and Atholl waved off the minibus-load of knitters into the crisp wintry morning from the steps of the Princess and the Pea Inn. One of the knitters, sad to be leaving after their week-long crafting holiday, mournfully waved their scarf from one of the windows, its tasselled ends flapping against the group’s logo on the side of the bus.Knit Fast, Die Warm.
‘I’m going to miss that lot,’ Beatrice smiled, still waving.
‘Aye, they were certainly lively,’ agreed Atholl, placing an arm around the shivering Beatrice. Even after five months living in the Highlands, the frosty December mornings took her breath away with their sharpness. ‘Their bar tabs were almost as long as the scarves they knitted.’
Beatrice leaned into the warmth of Atholl’s body. ‘Did you notice that little spark between the two younger ones? Alex and Selma?’
Atholl only narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t noticed.
‘There was definitely something there, I reckon,’ she said. Beatrice lowered her arm as the bus turned up the hill and out of sight. ‘Given another week and a bit of Christmas romance, I think those two would have got together. I’d have made sure of it.’
Atholl held the door open and let Beatrice pass through into the warmth of the inn’s reception. The silver tinsel draped over the wall-mounted deer antlers shimmered in the chilly, salty breeze coming in off the bay.
Atholl shook his head and smiled indulgently. ‘I’m sure they’ll find their way to each other once they’re back home at their knitting club.’
‘That’s just it. They might, but I’ll never know.’ Beatrice followed Atholl under the arched opening into the bar room, which at this time of day was pleasingly tidy and empty.
‘Well, rest assured your hospitality and our braw holidays will have set them on the road to being something more than they were afore they arrived.’ Atholl flicked the switch on the Christmas tree’s lights.
Beatrice stopped just for a second to enjoy how his blue eyes picked up their golden gleam. Feeling herself drawn towards him by the bar, she slipped her arms around his middle, her favourite place to be. ‘I think it might be time, Atholl.’
Intrigued, he tipped his head. ‘Oh aye?’ The low, drawling notes in his voice betrayed what hehopedshe was talking about, and he brought his mouth down to hers to confirm it. She welcomed his kiss.
Quiet mornings at the inn, before most of the guests were awake, and before Gene started up the stoves in the kitchen, were always a precious time for Atholl and Beatrice: slow, dark mornings when they could luxuriate in each other before their busy days began, taking Atholl off to the willow-weaving school above the coral beach way across the rocky headland, and Beatrice taking up her place behind the reception computer where she ran the crafting holidays and co-managed the inn.
Normally, Beatrice would be glad to let Atholl lead her back to bed, but today she had something else in mind. She pulled out of his warm grasp and made her way behind the bar. Atholl watched her go, his eyes alight from their kiss.
‘It’s time to put this up, remember?’ Beatrice told him, catching his dismayed look. ‘My dating board?’
‘You’re going ahead with it, then? The matchmaking?’
‘Well,wefound love at the inn, didn’t we? And your brother and Kitty. I did a good job of getting them together.’
‘Wedid a good job of getting them together,’ he replied, reaching over the bar to take the wood-framed pinboard from her hands. He’d made it himself according to her exact specifications.
‘Right,wedid,’ she said.
‘And now that wee bit of success has you itching to introduce more couples?’
Beatrice lifted Atholl’s tool box from behind the bar onto the counter. ‘That’s right. I got my happy ever after, what’s wrong with encouraging a few more?’
‘And you’re no’ worried about the competition?’ Atholl grabbed his hammer.
‘What competition?’ Beatrice drew her neck back, genuinely bemused.
‘Online dating apps?’
‘Pfft!We met in the flesh and knew there was something between us right away; no screen can tell you that.’
‘You didn’t like me one bit when we met,’ Atholl said with a gruff laugh.
Beatrice laughed too. ‘Well, just because I didn’t like youimmediatelydoesn’t mean I didn’t know for sure that I fancied you. Anyway, we’ve made up for the bickering since then.’
Atholl rummaged for the nails and placed two between his full lips. ‘Good point, well made,’ he conceded, the nails still in his mouth.
