AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fraoch pretended tae no’ hear m’question, looking around the bar, whistlin’. Havin’ served them, I leaned on the bar, “So what can I help ye with?”
Magnus asked, “We just need tae ken for certain, are ye the son of Colin Campbell?”
“Aye, he passed away about eight months ago.”
Quentin said, “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Aye, and what of it? He dinna hae any money, ye canna be here for a debt. I cleared all that I could, anythin’ else ye will need tae speak tae my lawyer on—”
James said, “Oh no, man, hell no, that’s not why we’re here, sorry about that, we thought we would be much better than this.”
Quentin joked, “That we did. When Kaitlyn said, ‘who wants to go talk to Liam Campbell?’ and we said,” he wagged his finger between them, “‘We all do,’ we honestly thought as a group we’d be good at it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I still daena understand who is the ‘we’ in this...?”
Magnus said, “Ye are the son of Colin Campbell of Kenmore, Scotland, who was, in turn, the son of Archibald Colin Campbell, himself the son of a Sean Archibald Colin Campbell and—”
“Sounds right, how do ye ken this? Did ye get this information off ancestry dot com?” I turned to Blakely and said, “Dinna I tell ye? I told ye they would steal my identity.”
“You one hundred percent told me, but, my love, this is not identity theft, this is someone who read your family tree. This is not diabolical.”
“It’s no’ diabolical until it is.” I looked at the men. “Is it?”
James put out his hands. “Nah, it’s not diabolical, we have an offer, Magnus just wants to make sure you’re the right guy. We need proof, despite it being clear that you are the descendent from your looks, your mood, your attitude, and on and on.”
“An offer on this pub and motel?”
Fraoch looked around again. “Och nae, not this pub, though tis verra nice. It reminds me of one Og Maggy and I visited outside of Stirlin’ back um... years ago.”
Magnus nudged him. “Nae, we are interested in a different property...”
Quentin said, “It’s... look, you are the son of Colin Campbell, right?”
I nodded.
Magnus said, “Then ye are a direct descendent of Sean Campbell, who was born in 1675.”
“Aye, I am... M’father has, I mean, had a paintin’ of him.”
Magnus’s eyes went wide. “Och, can I see it, ye hae it here?”
I shook my head. “Nae, tis in Scot—“
Blakely opened the drawer and pulled out the photograph of m’father in front of the painting of m’ancestor. “We have this.”
Magnus and Fraoch peered down at the photograph. Fraoch nodded. Magnus smiled broadly. “We found ye.”
James said, “Great, phew, so here’s this...” He pulled a stack of papers from a messenger bag and placed them on the bar.
“Och nae, am I being served?”
Quentin laughed, “Nah, just relax, okay? This is not bad news.”
“A’right.” I sat down on a stool, ran a hand through my hair, and took a swig from my beer. “A’right, hit me with it — I’m curious, if it is nae bein’ served, and nae identity theft, and nae bad news, I canna imagine what it could be.”
Blakely laughed. “A million other things, perhaps.” She sat down beside me at the bar.
Magnus said, “We, Fraoch and I, are yer cousins, tis a verra convoluted family tree — I am also descended from the Breadalbane branch of yer family.”
