Page 72 of Not Quite a Scot


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Finley’s expression was stunned. Had he ever heard that from his father? He was literally speechless.

No one said a word. Finally, sheer nerves made me rush into the breach. “Your son has built an amazing business here in Portree. The town appreciates his contributions and embraces him as one of their own.”

Mr. Craig frowned. “And who might you be, young lady?”

Hadn’t Vanessa told him about me? Maybe not. Maybe I wasn’t worth mentioning. “I’m a friend, sir. Just visiting for a couple of weeks. I came along today for moral support.”

Finley stood up suddenly. “This is a lot to take in. I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you. Come along, McKenzie. I have work to do.”

Before I knew it, we were back outside standing in the sunlight.

Finley’s eyes were dazed. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“He doesn’t look like the same man. He must have lost fifty or sixty pounds. And she’s still with him.”

“Maybe she was telling us the truth. Maybe she really loves him.”

I could see on his face that was a hard pill to swallow. Having to re-haul his opinions of Vanessa and his father in one fell swoop was a lot to ask.

We drove back to the house in silence. When we arrived, Finley excused himself to go to his workshop. Apparently, someone big and important was due next week to pick up a motorcycle, and Finley was scrambling to finish the order.

I couldn’t decide what to do. Most of me wanted to run before I got in any deeper. Still, the thought of abandoning Finley in his time of crisis seemed cold in the extreme.

It looked as if I’d be staying around for at least a short while. I knew it was going to cost me.

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