Page 58 of Not Quite a Scot


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Chapter 24

Even now, though he’d lost his grandfather almost two decades prior, I could hear the pain in Finley’s voice. “And the rest of your family? How did they react?” I wanted to keep him talking. I had a feeling this was my one and only chance to make sense of the people and events that had made Finley who he was.

“Everyone was shocked. My grandmother died less than a year later. She told me once that losing him had taken the joy out of her life.”

“He must have been a very special man.” My heart ached in retrospect for the boy on the cusp of manhood who had lost so much.

“Grandpa’s passion was motorcycles. He was the one who taught me how to distinguish a Triumph from an Ecossee…a Harley from a Ducati. He knew it all.”

“Did he ride much?”

“Not when I was old enough to remember. As a young man, yes…apparently he was a speed demon. But he and my grandmother made an agreement that when he turned fifty-five, he would give up riding.”

“I’m surprised he agreed if he loved it so much.”

“You had to know my grandmother. She was an equally powerful force of nature. He worshipped her. When the time came for no more riding, he took it in stride and turned his attention to collecting.”

“And you learned at his knee.”

Finley grinned. “More or less. I was a head taller than he was when he died. Even though he was only five feet seven inches, you never really noticed that, because he commanded the room wherever he went.”

“Was your dad an only child?”

“Yes. So he was the executor of the estate when my grandmother was gone. Grandpa Craig had written out instructions for most of his collection to be sold and the money donated to a particular charity. He left me three of his favorite bikes with the proviso that I could not have them until I turned twenty-one.”

“Makes sense. He didn’t want you to kill yourself. From what I know of most young men, it takes some time to learn that they aren’t invincible.”

“I won’t argue with that.” He chuckled.

“So did you take a celebratory ride on your twenty-first birthday?”

“Not exactly.”

“Why not?”

Finley rolled his shoulders and stared at the floor. I felt as if I had tripped over something I didn’t see coming. “Never mind,” I said quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

He lifted his head and stared at me, those gorgeous blue eyes the indigo of a stormy sea. “It mattered a hell of a lot to me. As soon as my grandmother was gone, my father sold every bit of my grandfather’s collection, even the three that were mine.”

“Oh, Finley. Why?”

“I think he resented the relationship I had with my grandfather, though he would never admit that. He told me the money was far more useful to me in a college fund than tied up in a rich man’s toys.”

“If you’d been an adult, you could have sued him for not following the specifics of the will.”

“True. I had started college by then, and besides, it was too late. The motorcycles were gone. They were the last physical link to my grandfather. Even if I had battled my father, I wouldn’t have been able to buy them back.”

I was beginning to see that Finley’s dad was not a nice person. That’s what we used to say in Georgia when we talked about folks we knew who had done something terrible. Now I was the one ready to punch somebody. And that somebody was Finley’s wretched father.

He had hurt his son deliberately, not once, but multiple times. “Why would he be so cruel?”

“My father is always right. You can ask him, and he’ll tell you. All of the things he did to me were for my own good. I was simply the ungrateful kid who didn’t understand how fortunate I was.”

I flung out my arm, indicating the amazing environment he had created to do the work he loved. “They say the best revenge is living well. I think you’ve done that, Finley.”

It was clear to me now that the reason he kept this place private for the most part was because it revealed so much about him. This was the sanctuary he had created in Scotland. The place he now called home. Would he ever want to go back? Or like the lost inheritance, was it too late?

Closing the small gap between us, I put my arms around his waist and rested my head against his shoulder. “Let’s go to bed,” I said softly. We had shared some heavy stuff tonight. It was time to play.

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