Chapter 4

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The next day, I sat white-knuckled in a cushy seat as the airplane made its way down the tarmac. In nine hours, we would touch down at Prestwick Airport and I would be on my way.

"Nervous flier?" the passenger next to me leaned over and asked.

I gave him a sheepish smile. "It's just been a while." My thumb brushed continuously over my empty left ring finger. "Are you visiting family?"

"Actually just coming back home. My daughter lives in the states and I was visiting my grandchild for the first time."

"That's amazing! Congrats."

"Thank you. I just wish my wife were still around. Two years this coming February." He nodded to my hand. "How long have you been without the ring? Sorry, I know that must seem a bit forward, but I couldn't help but notice the 'phantom ring' movement you've been doing."

I blushed, wiping my hand on my jeans. "It's a nervous habit."

He let out a chuckle. "I do it too. It takes a while to get used to."

The plane lurched forward into the air and I clutched at the arm rests. Once the plane had leveled out again, I turned to the man sitting next to me.

"Does it get any better?" I asked.

My companion smiled. "Aye. Time heals, we just have to give it a chance." Then he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Well, I guess that's that. I placed the airline pillow behind my head and tried to get some rest.

I dozed on the plane until the flight attendants came around with dinner, which I immediately scarfed down. For airline food, it was pretty tasty. A few hours later—I swore it only felt like seconds—we landed in Scotland.

Passengers shuffled around in their seats, stretching their arms and reaching for luggage in the overhead containers. I grabbed my tote from under the seat in front of me and made my way down the line to exit the plane. With the time difference, it was very early in the morning so the sun had not yet risen in the sky. I made my way through the airport where I collected my suitcase at the baggage claim. As I walked to the exit to catch a cab, I noticed a man holding a sign with my name on it.

Frowning, I walked over to him.

He grinned as I approached. "Emilie Taylor?" he asked.

"Th-that's me."

The man tipped his hat. "I'm Lachlan Baird, your chauffeur. Welcome to Scotland."

A chauffeur? Wow, whoever sent the ticket really went all out. "Thank you. I, um, I didn't realize...sorry, it's been a long flight."

Lachlan laughed. "Not to worry." He led me to a town car parked out front and lifted my suitcase into the rear. "You're going to MacLeod's Book Emporium, aye?"

"Yes." I climbed into the backseat and the car rumbled forward along the road. I gripped the seat as we rolled into the lane on the left before remembering this was the correct side of the road. We were in Scotland, not America.

"I've been working with the MacLeod family for many years," Lachlan said. "They're good people. You're the guest they've been waiting for, aye?"

I fished out the note from my pocket. MacLeod, that was the name on the paper. "I guess so. Did they send me the ticket?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I do not know. All they said was to pick up a guest at the airport. I'm to bring you to the bookstore so you can get settled in."

Settled in? "Um, what about a hotel?"

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