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Makinghis way down a broad tree-lined lane in the remote, cozy glen, Taran watched a man leave a large out-building and sprint toward the picturesque, two-story house, shaded by a wide, covered porch. Far more than a cottage but no’ quite a manor, it beckoned to the soul, as if to say ye’ve finally come home.
Turning his focus on the man, Taran recognized the sway of his shoulders and the long strides of his friend. “30!” he called. “Number 30! Can ye have forgotten an old moor-mate so soon?”
Clearly startled, Reginald McColl stumbled to a stop, shaded his eyes with his hand and squinted toward the lane and the setting sun. Seconds later, a broad grin split his face. “What the—? 66?” He shifted directions and jogged down the lane. “Taran Fleming! Is it really ye? I cannae believe it. What are ye doin’ here? How did ye find me?”
He welcomed Taran with a crushing hug and a solid pounding on the back before clamping his hands on either side of Taran’s face to give him a slight shake. He couldnae seem to stop grinning. “I cannae believe my eyes. ’Tis bonny tae see ye, laddie!”
“And ye,” Taran laughed. “Wickham said I might find ye somewhere around here.”
“Och! I’m happy ye did! Come inside,” he urged, placing a hand on Taran’s shoulder. “I want ye tae meet my wife. And I want tae hear about ye and the lads and everything that’s happened since I left the ranch. Or, untilyeleft the ranch, at least. Have ye been gone long?”
“Nae,” Taran replied as they walked. “Only barely.” He gestured to encompass the glen. “ ’Tis a bonny place ye have, 30.”
“Thank ye. I cannae tell ye how happy Lauren and I are here. I wish every one of The 79 could be as content. What about ye, Taran? Where are ye bound? Have ye a special place in mind?”
Taran shook his head. “Nae. No’ yet, anyway. I ken I’ll find it when the time is right. Or, mayhap, ’twill find me somewhere along the way,” he laughed. “But I couldnae hope for anything as fine as this. Ye’re a lucky man, McColl.”
“That I am,” Reginald replied, leading Taran across the porch to the kitchen door. “Lauren!” he called, bursting into the house, “ye’ll never guess who wandered down our lane!”
Lauren stood to greet him. “Neither will you.”
Both Reginald’s and Taran’s gazes shot to the lovely blonde woman sitting at a wee table in a cozy nook. Taran felt the tug of her unusual violet eyes—round and wide like a frightened fawn—low and deep in his gut.
Strange.He wiggled his shoulders to shake off the odd sensation.
“Och!” Reginald groaned. “My apologies for burstin’ in like that.” He nodded a greeting to the woman. “I’m Reginald McColl and this wayward traveler is Taran Fleming.” He turned to Lauren with a wink. “The lads call him 66.”
Lauren’s mouth rounded in surprise before grinning her delight, making Taran think Reginald must have shared the history of the 79 with her.
“Taran, may I present my wife, Lauren.”
“Welcome, Mr. Fleming,” Lauren extended both hands to grasp his. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” She glanced past him, expectantly. “Have you come alone?”
“Aye. Alone,” he replied to Lauren, though his eyes were continually drawn to the woman fidgeting at the table. “Just Taran will do, if it pleases ye.”
“Taran, then.” Lauren took a step toward Paige. “Gentlemen, this is Paige Williams, from America. She’s come with a very intriguing puzzle. Join us please, while I get you both some lemonade, and we’ll see if we can help her.”
“Taran,” Lauren said, moving into the kitchen, “I hope you’ll at least stay the night. Longer, if you can. I know Reggie will want to catch up on old times, and I’d like to hear a few of those tall tales myself.” She laughed as she brought ice-filled glasses and the pitcher of lemonade to the table. “What about you, Paige? Do you have lodging for the night?”
Paige shook her head. “Not yet. I stopped long enough for directions, then came straight here from the airport. But I’m sure I can find something.”
“Nonsense,” Reginald stated. “We’re a wee bit off the beaten path. ’Twillnae be easy tae find something wi’out driving a good distance. Ye’re most welcome tae stay here tonight and get a fresh start tae wherever ye’re goin’, in the morning.”
Taking a seat at the table, Taran realized Reginald kept glancing curiously at the woman, with a distinct furrow creasing his forehead.
“Williams, is it?” Reginald queried. “From the U.S.? Would ye happen tae have a brother named Austin?”
The color drained from her face. “How did you—”
“We dinnae receive many visitors here that havnae come about a furniture order. So, when two Americans with the same last name, lookin’ a good deal alike, drop in on us out of the blue, I consider it more than a wee coincidence. Yer brother’s a tall lanky lad wi’ sandy hair? And the most intriguing eyes. They’re the palest blue I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes,” Paige nodded eagerly. “That’s Austin.”
“Why can’t I remember any of this?” Lauren asked, clearly puzzled.
“Ye were gone to meet wi’ yer editor at the time, Love. And visitin’ yer sister those months later, when the search team came out.”
“Ah,” Lauren nodded. “That explains it.”
