The Great Scot Read Online Free PDF Page B

craning their necks to watch the dart contest. He gestured her to take the seat.
    â€œI didn’t know that. That’s great. Oh, thanks, but I can stand.”
    He waved her to sit. “You’re buying, I’ll stand.”
    She laughed with him and began to relax a little. Maybe it was all the bubbling energy inside the small pub, or being bodily swallowed up in the easy camaraderie of the crowd, but her anxiety about getting the job done was easing a bit. She waved at Marta who was working behind the bar and signaled for two ales. Earlier today Marta had been working back in the kitchen, preparing some of the best beef stew Erin had ever tasted. But she didn’t see Brodie anywhere tonight, so perhaps Marta was pulling double duty.
    Another cheer went up, and she shifted around on her stool to see what was going on now. The cheer was followed by hoots and catcalls. She turned back to Alastair, his smile rueful now.
    â€œOch, but the lad should have known better than to tangle with my Kat. She doesn’t play to lose.” He shook his head. “Even when it might be in all of our best interests if she did.”
    Marta slid two ales onto the bar in front of them and Erin picked hers up and took a sip. “Who? Brodie?” She thought it was rather sweet that Brodie’s wife came to the pub after work and played darts with him. Even more charming that the entire village enjoyed the apparently heated battle between the newlyweds.
    Alastair shook his head. “Dylan.”
    Erin almost sprayed her sip of ale. She surreptitiously wiped her chin with her sleeve and tried to adopt a casual mien. “Really? I thought I heard earlier today that he wasn’t much of a joiner when it came to village activities. In fact, the locals made it seem as if he never came down off the mountain.”
    Alastair enjoyed a long sip of his ale, then nodded. “Aye, ’tis true. Why do you think this place is packed on a Tuesday night?”
    She didn’t know what to make of that. Coincidence? “So, he suddenly decided to come down and play darts?”
    Alastair shrugged. “Apparently. But he might never again if Kat doesn’t play nice.” He sighed again, but Erin wasn’t paying attention.
    What were the chances Dylan had suddenly come to town the same day she’d shown up on his doorstep, talking about leasing his place? Had Brodie talked to him after all? She’d hoped to bend Brodie’s ear this evening, but with the crowd, she doubted she’d have the chance. Of course, with the Great Scot himself on the premises, she could just go directly to the source. First, she needed a plan. She pictured those enigmatic eyes of his, the set angle of his jaw as he’d turned her down flat and took another sip of ale. A little fortification couldn’t hurt, either.
    Another whoop went up and Alastair excused himself. “I suppose I should go make sure she doesn’t single-handedly destroy the goodwill we’ve spent the past year or two establishing with the poor lad. Bad enough Letty and her gaggle spend all their estimable free time planning his future, complete with new wife and, if they have their way, probably a half dozen wee Chisholms to boot. Let his brothers take on the task of creating heirs, I told them, be happy he’s back home. Do they listen to me?” He motioned Marta to top off his ale, then hefted the glass and squeezed past Erin. “Knowing Kat, we’ll be lucky if he’s no’ packed up and heading back to Edinburgh by morning.” He patted her shoulder. “Back in a blink.”
    Erin was still trying to absorb that latest tidbit of information. New wife? Meaning there had been an old one. She’d sort of suspected as much, given the meaningful looks shared between the locals when referring to Dylan, as if he’d come home under less than fortunate circumstances. She was still trying to figure out how to use that