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And when had he turned into such a liar? Hopefully, their next stop wouldnae be before he could devise another plan. Or admit he dinnae ken the first thing about the bloody contraption and just ask her to show him.
“No problem,” she said, though her tone indicated otherwise.
Swallowing his frustration, he turned to the window. He’d been a guide-protector less than an hour and already bungled the lass’s first request.
A man of the world,indeed,he thought bitterly.
* * *
Paige pulledinto the petrol station and eased the car next to the nearest pump. “I need to fill up then I’m going to grab some more water. Anything you need?”
“Nae. Thank ye.”
She’d half expected him to offer to pump the gas for her, but he seemed content right where he was, busily watching people coming and going from inside. “Perhaps while I do that, you could get my phone from beneath your seat? I still need a tour company name and location.”
“Aye,” he nodded, still not moving.
Stifling a groan, she left him to people watch and pumped the gas herself. He was still sitting there when she headed inside for the water. The way things were going, she’d probably end up doing the digging under his seat for her phone, too.
She’d obviously made a huge mistake agreeing to his help.
When she came out, Taran was out of the car, laughing with a man and woman. When he saw her, he left them and took his place back inside her car.
“Friends of yours?” she asked settling into her seat.
“Nae, but friendly all the same. Here ye go,” he smiled and handed her, her phone. “There’s a travel office at 36 High Street. ’Tis called the iCentre. They do walking tours, so I assume they’d have a sizeable staff. Hopefully someone there will know something of Oliver Harris.” He shifted and settled deeper into his seat. “ ’Tis best if ye go in on the A82 and cross Ness Bridge. High Street is just on the other side.”
“Thank you,” she managed, struggling to hide her surprise as she took her phone. Apparently, she’d jumped to premature assumptions. Which almost never happened. She prided herself on being a good judge of character. Though admittedly, there hadn’t been adequate time yet to make accurate conclusions about the Scotsman sitting beside her.
She’d accepted his offer of help because she was desperate and admittedly out of her element in this country. But ultimately it was the McColl’s level of trust in him that allowed her to assume some, as well.
So why did she feel so jittery? Sounbalanced?
Maybe the problem wasn’t Taran at all, she considered as she pulled out of the petrol station. Maybe it washer. Maybe Austin’s disappearance had warped the tightly controlled rein she’d kept on herself and her life so far out of shape, she’d lost all perspective. Maybe she needed the stranger sitting beside her more than she realized.
She’d spent her life tucking everything into tidy, logical boxes and categories. That was the only way she’d been able to survive the uncertain world she lived in. They’d helped make everything predictable. And predictability meant safety.
Just when she thought she’d finally reached a livable arrangement, where foster homes or government agencies no longer had control over her, Austin announced he was staying another year in Europe. So, she’d adapted. She regrouped, readjusted, recategorized. She found work to fit the new holding pattern until he returned to begin the life he’d always promised they’d have.
Until everything stopped. And logic failed.
And here she was in Scotland following an invisible trail to who knows where, with a perfect stranger.
So,unbalancedjust might be the best she could hope for.
Chapter Four
Taran took Paige’s arm as they walked down High Street to the iCentre. She stiffened slightly for the space of a second, then relaxed and kept walking, neither of them speaking.
Inside the information center, ’twas strange to see Scotland broken down and packaged into day trips, tours, and excursions. A huge display of pamphlets was neatly tucked against the wall. Across the room, several people browsed the gift displays.
“There’s a woman behind that long counter with the computers,” Paige whispered. “Maybe we can ask her.”
“Interested in bookin’ a tour?” the woman asked cheerfully as they approached.
“Actually, I’m hoping to locate one of the local guides,” Paige smiled. “A Mr. Oliver Harris? Does he work here, by chance?”
“Aye, he does.” The woman glanced at the clock on the wall. “He’s been out with a tour, but he should have returned by now.”
