Chapter 8
Saoirse
I tucked my hair behind my ear and checked my reflection in the pub’s bathroom mirror one last time. The concealer was doing its job. I could barely see the yellowing edges of the bruise—except when I looked too long. Then it pulsed like a warning light. Or a memory.
I tugged my hair a little further forward and tried to stop checking. After a week of explaining to every client, delivery person, and random villager exactly how I’d gotten my black eye, I was thoroughly sick of the whole affair.
“Saoirse! There you are!” Ciara pounced on me as I emerged from the bathroom. She looked radiant, her skin glowing with a light tan from her Greek honeymoon.
I accepted her enthusiastic hug. “Look who’s back from paradise and looking fabulous.”
“God, I missed everyone.” She looped her arm through mine and led me outside to the patio where the others were already gathered, their various canines in tow.
Falkor sat beside Parker’s chair, his feather duster of a tail cleaning the cobblestones behind him as he spotted me.
Walter, Skye’s sheepadoodle gave a cheerful bark from where he sprawled behind her chair.
Maeve immediately lunged for Ciara with a happy bark, dragging the chair her leash was attached to at least two feet.
I pointed at the Australian shepherd. “You. Sit.”
She plopped her bum down and panted up at me, eyes bright.
“Good girl.” I offered up one of the training treats I kept in my pocket.
“Bribery will get you everywhere,” Ciara sang.
“So will consistency.” I crouched down to give Falkor a rub and accepted his lick hello. “Here’s a good lad.”
“He’s the best, as always,” Parker announced.
“Naturally.” I kissed his nose before turning to lavish some attention on Walter.
“Wine?” Skye asked.
“Yes. God, please.” I dropped into a chair beside Pippa and gave her a side hug.
Jade leaned back in her seat next to Parker. “How’s the eye?”
I reached for the glass Skye offered me. “Better, and thankfully covered. I’ve had quite enough of wasting time explaining to everyone why all their outlandish theories of how I got it are entirely wrong.”
Parker winced. “Got some doozies, huh?”
“The number of alleged secret abusive affairs people assume I’m having makes me sound far more exciting than I actually am.”
“People and their gossip.” Skye rolled her eyes. “Walter knocked me flat on my ass last week chasing a squirrel, and I swear Jason had to give three separate explanations at the bakery.”
Pippa raised her own glass. “To better stories, then. Ciara, tell us everything about Greece.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I clinked my glass to hers.
As Ciara launched into tales of crystal-clear waters and ancient ruins, I found my mind drifting. Isla hadn’t checked in yesterday.
Not a red flag. Not yet. But it fluttered uneasily in my chest all the same.
She always checked in. Even with a satellite phone, there were places so remote she couldn’t get enough of a signal to get through.
But when that happened, she made sure to hike to a previous location she knew she could get signal to send a brief check-in, even if only to say she couldn’t check in properly.
Which meant I should have heard something from her today.
But we were well on into the dinner hour, and I hadn’t heard a word.
She still had a few hours of daylight this time of year, but the lack of contact left me feeling uneasy.
Her silence was starting to feel loud.
“—and Ajax is finally starting to adjust to being around Falkor.”
At the mention of Ajax, I tuned back into the conversation, focusing on Parker. “How is Ajax doing?” I’d thought of him often in the past few days.
“A little better each day, I think. Finn’s been bringing him to the office, and Falkor has decided they’re best friends now.
” Parker reached down to scratch the pup in question behind the ears.
“Poor Ajax doesn’t quite know what to do with all that enthusiasm.
He just sits there looking confused while Falkor tries to get him to play. ”
“But no signs of aggression?” I leaned forward, genuinely concerned. “Military dogs can sometimes struggle with the transition.” I hated the idea that Parker’s friendly floof might get bitten, or worse, for his trouble.
Parker shook her head. “None at all. He’s more… reserved? Like he’s waiting for commands or something. But Falkor’s persistence seems to be good for him.”
“Pretty sure Falkor can wear down anybody. Has Ajax been eating better?” His lack of appetite had been a concern during our exam.
Ciara picked up her pint. “Alex and I got him some puzzle feeders that Finn says he seems to be enjoying.”
“And for better or worse, Isobel and I have got him hooked on the fancy dog treats I buy for Falkor.” Parker shrugged with a grin. “Sorry. Not sorry. Good boys deserve cookies.”
Falkor woofed in agreement, and we all laughed. He stared at his mum in clear expectation.
Parker scruffed his ears. “You’ll have to wait until we get home, pal. I don’t have any more in my purse.”
With a beleaguered sigh, he settled back on the ground, resting his head on his paws.
Pippa snickered. “It’s hard to be a dog.”
“So hard,” Skye agreed. “I think I’d like to be this one when I retire.”
I couldn’t resist dragging the conversation back to Ajax. “How is Ajax doing when Finn has to leave him for work?”
“Well, he’s only just tried it yesterday.” Jade stabbed a fork into one of the haggis balls she’d developed a fondness for since she’d moved to Glenlaig. “The rest of us have been trading off, picking up some of the excursions he’d usually do, so he can ease Ajax in more slowly.”
Parker picked a loaded chip out of the basket in the center of the table. “Yeah, he’s only done a couple of short trips. Two hours, max. Ajax stayed at the office with me and Falkor, and we kept him in a quiet room in the back so he didn’t get overwhelmed by any clients.”
“How did that go?” This poor dog would no doubt have some abandonment issues.
“Pretty well, I’d say. Falkor stayed with him the whole time, and Ajax was less anxious today than yesterday. It’s a start.”
Leave it to Falkor to be the emotional support animal for Ajax, too.
I snagged a chip myself. “That all sounds positive. Poor boy has had so much to adjust to.”
“Finn’s doing everything he can. Lots of long walks where Ajax can sniff anything he wants. And he’s designing an obstacle course for his back garden.”
That surprised me. “He’s actually doing all that?” The mental image hit unexpectedly hard—Finley Patterson out in his garden, hammering agility equipment together for a dog he barely knew a week ago.
I’d mentioned agility work as something that would be a good way to engage Ajax, but I hadn’t expected Finn to jump on it. Certainly not this soon.
“Oh, aye.” Ciara grinned. “Alex has gotten way too into that, though he’d deny it on pain of death.”
“Nice of Alex to help out.” That wasn’t surprising in the least. Alex Conroy was usually the first to volunteer help for anything. Maybe he was the one behind the agility course.
“All of them have stories about how Ajax saved their lives,” Parker added. “So they all want to help him make this transition as easily as possible.”
“Good of them.” I’d been impressed before at how these men still functioned as a unit, even as civilians. “Are they trading off with him?”
Jade shook her head. “Not really. Finn’s in this a hundred percent. Won’t even let anybody else take him out because he says they need to bond.”
I sat in silence for a few long moments, processing this avalanche of information. “That’s… actually perfect. Consistency and patience are exactly what Ajax needs right now.” And I was shamed to admit, even to myself, that I hadn’t expected him capable of that.
“Finn’s been reading up on canine grief too,” Parker added. “He asked me to order some books.”
The image of Finley Patterson studiously reading about dog psychology wasn’t one I’d expected. I felt a small, reluctant smile tug at my lips. “Good. That’s… That’s really good.”
More than good. Admirable. Unexpected. Inconvenient.
I hated when people didn’t stay in the boxes I’d built for them.
Pippa nudged my shoulder. “See? He’s not so bad.”
I fought the urge to stiffen up. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, what was it you said?” Skye gripped her chin as if trying to remember. “That you wouldn’t date Finn if he were the last man on earth?”
“I’m not trying to date him. I’m inquiring after his dog purely out of professional concern…”
And if I’d spent a little too long imagining him with that dog—his hand gentle, his voice low—that was entirely beside the point.
“The lady doth protest too much,” Ciara pointed out.
“Admit it,” Jade prodded. “All this surprises you. You were convinced he was some kind of irresponsible ass.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, because that was exactly what I’d thought.
It seemed that maybe I’d misjudged the man, at least a little.
That bothered me more than I was willing to admit.
I’d been judged enough in my own life, and I generally made it a point not to jump to conclusions about people.
And yet Finley Patterson had rubbed me the wrong way straight out of the gate.
Gathering together the shreds of my dignity, I conceded, “It does appear there is more to the man than I gave him credit for.”
Which wouldn’t be such a bitter pill to swallow if I hadn’t built my whole personality around not jumping to conclusions.
Apparently, he brought out the worst in me. Or maybe the parts I’d tried hardest to ignore.
“Like the fact that he looks smashing in a kilt,” Ciara muttered into her drink.
“Again, what does that have to do with anything? I never denied he was hot.”
Parker dimpled. “Hot was how you two were looking at each other during that dance at Ciara’s wedding.”
“It was nothing. You’ve got on love-colored glasses.” I took a long drink of wine—not because I needed it, but because I needed to do something that wasn’t looking too closely at what that dance had stirred up.
Finn Patterson in a kilt should be a crime. So should the way I kept thinking about it.
Compulsively, I glanced down at my phone. Yet again.
“Okay, what gives?” Jade nodded toward the phone. “You expecting a call, or are you secretly texting with someone more interesting than our Finn?”
Ignoring that, I took the change in topic.
“I’m expecting a check-in text from Isla.
A few of you met her on a previous visit to Glenlaig.
She’s a scientist researching the results of the rewilding project at Ardinmuir.
She’s out on a two-week expedition, and usually she manages to send me a text from her sat phone every day, but I haven’t heard from her since the day before yesterday. I’m getting a little worried.”
“Could be in an area without signal. It’s pretty bloody remote out there,” Ciara suggested.
“True enough. But she never goes more than two days without checking in.” That was the rule. And rules were there for a reason. They were structure. Reassurance. Control. Without them, my brain went to places it shouldn’t.
“If she can’t get through, she’ll hike back to somewhere she knows she has signal.”
Jade considered. “Sat phone could be lost or busted.”
“Certainly. And she’s meant to be back in Glenlaig on Sunday next. It’s probably nothing, and I’ll hear from her tomorrow. I’m just…” I lifted my shoulders in a helpless shrug that encompassed the whole array of terrible outcomes my brain was starting to spin up.
“There’s nothing wrong with being concerned about her,” Parker soothed. “Honestly, if you’re truly worried, come in and talk to the guys. They’d be the best ones to go check on her.”
“I don’t think we’re to the point of needing to mount a rescue mission. She’s not that far off her schedule yet. But I’ll certainly keep that in mind, thanks.”
As conversation drifted to other topics—not my potential interest in one frustrating former Royal Marine, thank God—I did my best to reassure myself that Isla was fine. She was an experienced outdoorswoman, and she could handle whatever came at her.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about how she was out there completely alone. And how helpless I felt not being able to do anything about it.