defensiveness battled in her voice.
“Highland is alive.”
“Is the village at Cairndow populated by zombies or something?” Her dry wit made the corners of his mouth twitch.
The reality, unfortunately, wasn’t a joke. “It was a thriving fishing village at one time, the trade passed down from father to son for generations, but it’s cheaper to import fish nowadays. The old ways have dwindled to a few hardy souls and not many young ones. Most leave to take jobs in the bigger cities.”
“Highland used to be like that.” Anna pointed toward the street. “Empty storefronts, a fall in the population. Atlanta was growing by leaps and bounds and offered opportunities Highland couldn’t compete with. Izzy’s dad came up with the idea of the festival. The town council jumped on it and rebranded the town as Scotland in the South.”
Her assessment mirrored what Dr. Jameson had said. “I hope Isabel can work the same magic at Cairndow.”
“She’s told me about the honey and jams.” Anna poked a fry into a puddle of catsup, but didn’t eat it.
“I built the hives and helped put in the greenhouse and berry bushes.”
“Izzy said you were”—Anna cleared her throat—“good with your hands.”
Alasdair watched a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks with fascination. What had embarrassed her? He glanced over his shoulder to identify the instigation point, but the scene remained mundane. He shrugged.
“I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t puttering or building something. Da kept me with him even when I was a babe. There’s a picture of me swaddled in a wheelbarrow at his side.” The picture was a testament to his da’s devotion, and the pang of missing him was physical and sharp. Iain rubbed his chest.
“Your dad sounds amazing.” Was the wistfulness in her voice part of his imagination?
“He is a man of few words, but I never doubted his love.” Iain pretended to pick at a loose string on his kilt to hide the flush of emotion pulling an embarrassing wetness to his eyes. “I left him with his hands full of Isabel’s projects. He’s learning how to keep bees. He grumbles at the changes, but I think he’s secretly loving every minute. He’s got a spring to his step I haven’t seen in quite some time.”
“Cairndow sounds idyllic.”
“I could say the same of Highland.” He turned the thought over in his head. “But no such place exists, does it? Life has its challenges anywhere, and you only pack your troubles with you wherever you go.”
It was a philosophy he should heed himself. Why did he blame Cairndow for his discontent? Happiness wasn’t something one found and possessed; it manifested from within. Why then couldn’t he manifest it at home?
“I know you’re right.” She swirled her catsup into a pattern, officially playing with her food. “I left Highland after high school, but I came back.”
A story lived between the two bookends. One he was sure had altered the way she viewed life in fundamental ways.
“I left Cairndow after secondary school but ended back where I started as well.” Like Anna, he had been fundamentally changed by all the events encompassed in the small conjunction.
“Maybe all the songs are wrong.” She finally transferred her attention from her catsup masterpiece to his face.
“What songs?”
“The ones warning you that you can’t go home again. I came home, and I’m perfectly fine.” There was that word again. “Fine.” After seeing the real thing, he knew the lightness of her smile was fake.
She wasn’t being truthful with him—maybe not even with herself—but as they’d only met the day before over a wayward sheep, he hadn’t earned her truths. “I’ll wager you weren’t the same when you came home. You’d changed, but were lucky enough that Highland welcomed the changes.”
“You are not what I expected, Iain Connors.” She checked the screen on her phone. “I’ve got to get back to teach my next class.”
He didn’t have a chance to request a list of her expectations and how he had fallen short. She shoved her chair back and strode to the bar. It was only when he caught the flash of her charge card that he realized she was paying for their lunch.
“You should let me—”
The glance she gave him over her shoulder withered his words. This was a woman who was letting him know in no uncertain terms that she didn’t require him in any way.
He matched her pace on the sidewalk. “We didn’t discuss how to divvy up the work on the festival.”
“Let me