Chapter 28
MARY
The McGregor Group Therapy Session
(Or How Three Sheep Teamed Up Against a Grumpy Doctor)
I spent the entire day avoiding everyone.
Which is honestly an impressive achievement during the Highland Games, where hundreds of people are crammed together on grounds the size of a postage stamp.
But apparently, I’ve developed stealth skills worthy of a secret agent.
Cameron heading my way?
I dive behind a tent.
Emma spots me across the field?
Suddenly I’m pretending there’s a veterinary emergency involving an imaginary sheep.
The problem is that by five o’clock, I completely crack.
Totally.
Spectacularly.
I’m sitting behind the paddocks staring at my phone like it’s magically going to tell me what to do with my life.
Of course, it doesn’t.
It just keeps showing the time ticking by, reminding me that in a few hours the Games will end.
And with them, my arrangement with Finn.
My fake arrangement that became far too real.
Pain squeezes hard around my heart.
I can’t stay here doing nothing.
I call Keira, and she picks up on the first ring.
“Mary? Where are you? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?”
“Can we meet somewhere quiet?”
My voice cracks on the last word.
A short silence passes before she answers softly.
“Meet us at the distillery in half an hour?”
“Okay.”
I’m about to hang up when I add quickly:
“Keira?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, cousin. See you soon.”
A few minutes later, I pull up outside the McKenzie distillery.
It still feels strange coming here.
Before Keira and Alistair fell in love, the McKenzie clan was the sworn enemy of the McGregors.
Proof that love really can work miracles.
A bitter smile tugs at my mouth.
Apparently just not for me.
I climb out of the car and slam the door shut.
I’m still wearing my work clothes: jeans covered in fur and mud stains, hair escaping from my ponytail.
I probably look like the lone survivor of a sheep apocalypse.
Keira opens the door before I even make it to the porch.
She walks straight toward me and wraps me in a hug without saying a word.
And that’s when I fall apart.
“Come on,” she murmurs, guiding me inside.
The distillery living room is exactly what I need.
Large.
Warm.
Comfortable.
A fire crackling in the stone fireplace.
I collapse onto the leather couch like a puppet with its strings cut.
Keira drapes a blanket over my shoulders and hands me a glass of water.
“Drink first. Then we’ll talk. Or not. Whatever you need.”
I drink.
The water is cold and soothing.
It does absolutely nothing for the knot lodged in my throat.
Fifteen minutes later, Jane arrives carrying a box of scones.
“Mrs. Finley baked a fresh batch. I stole most of them.”
She drops onto the couch beside me.
“Does everyone know?” I whisper.
“Know what?” Jane asks gently.
I bite my lip as tears flood my eyes, and it takes a superhuman effort not to completely break down.
Emma, who arrived with Jane, looks blurry through my tears.
“I made tea,” she says softly. “Whisky can come later if necessary.”
She pours tea into mugs while Keira places a bottle of whisky from the distillery onto the coffee table anyway.
Now there are four of us.
Me, curled beneath a blanket.
Keira, Jane, and Emma surrounding me without smothering me.
Nobody pressures me to speak.
But the words come out anyway.
“It was fake.”
My voice sounds rough.
Broken.
I stare down at my hands twisting nervously together.
“Everything was fake. It was an arrangement to fool Maggie. The idea was to pretend to be a couple so she’d stop harassing me and the village would accept Finn.”
I glance up expecting shock.
Instead, the three of them exchange looks.
“We kind of guessed,” Keira says gently.
I blink.
“What? Since when?”
“Honey,” Jane says with a sad little smile, “we’re McGregors. We can spot one of Maggie’s schemes from fifteen miles away.”
“The dinner where you two suddenly ‘announced’ yourselves?” Emma adds. “It was a little too perfect. And way too sudden.”
“And Maggie had that look,” Keira continues. “You know the one. The smile she gets when she thinks she’s won.”
I suddenly feel ridiculous.
“So you knew. Everybody knew.”
Jane takes my hand.
“We knew it started as an arrangement, yes. But we also saw it stopped being fake. At least for you.”
Tears threaten again.
I suck in a deep breath trying to hold them back.
That’s when a stocky little figure suddenly bursts into the room.
Hamish charges in like a wool-covered missile.
He storms across the living room with alarming determination, something clamped in his mouth.
He stops directly in front of me and solemnly drops his treasure at my feet.
It’s…
A dark green sock.
“Am I hallucinating, or did he just bring you… a sock?” Emma asks incredulously.
Jane tries not to laugh, cheeks turning pink with the effort.
“Maybe this is his version of a comfort gift?”
“I’m mostly wondering whose sock it is,” Keira says.
I stare at the sock.
Then at the sheep.
“Hamish, what exactly am I supposed to do with this?”
Hamish lets out one satisfied bleat.
Then he marches to the corner of the room, settles down comfortably, and keeps his eyes fixed on the front door like a sentry guarding the perimeter.
Keira pours whisky for everyone even though it’s barely evening.
“You want to hear how Alistair and I almost ruined everything?”
I take the glass she hands me without drinking and nod silently.
So she tells us.
The disastrous fake engagement.
The clan rivalry.
The lies.
“He pushed me away,” she says quietly. “Several times. He thought he was protecting me.”
“But he really loved you,” I say bitterly.
“He didn’t want to admit it.”
Jane sets her teacup carefully onto the saucer.
“Callum and I started with an arranged marriage. For the inheritance.”
She explains the rocky beginning, the cultural divide between them.
“He spent months pushing me away. Telling me it was only an arrangement.”
“How long did it last?” I ask desperately.
“Too long. Months of torture.”
“But you stayed,” Emma says softly.
“Because I saw the man underneath the armor.”
Emma leans forward.
“Lachlan said horrible things to me. To protect me from himself.”
She tells me about the age difference. Lachlan’s fear.
“He thought he’d ruin me. That I was too young, too bright. He pushed me away brutally. I almost left.”
“So how did you know it was worth staying?” I whisper.
Emma meets my eyes.
“I didn’t know. I chose to believe. That’s different.”
At that exact moment, Rosita strides into the room looking determined and slightly irritated.
Something metallic glints in her mouth beneath the firelight.
A stethoscope.
Finn’s stethoscope.
She marches directly toward me with military precision, drops it beside the sock, then lifts her head and stares me dead in the eyes.
Rosita bleats once.
The room falls silent.
“Is that…” Keira says slowly, “Finn’s stethoscope?”
“Finn is going to panic when he realizes it’s missing,” Emma murmurs.
“Rosita stole his medical equipment,” Jane says while trying very hard not to laugh. “That’s a very serious offense.”
I pick up the stethoscope with trembling hands.
“He needs this. For patients, for consultations…”
My voice cracks.
Hamish bleats proudly from his corner as if congratulating Rosita, who joins him and settles nearby.
“They’re working together,” Keira says, thoroughly entertained.
“It’s honestly kind of beautiful. And completely insane,” Emma adds.
“These animals are way too intelligent,” Jane mutters. “They understand far too much, and they’re always exactly where nobody expects them to be.”
“At this point it’s basically witchcraft,” Emma jokes.
I tighten my fingers around the stethoscope.
“He doesn’t love me. He told me so. He said everything was one huge mistake.”
The tears spill over now.
Impossible to stop.
Jane slides closer on the couch and pulls me into her arms.
“Men say horrible things when they’re scared.”
“Lachlan told me I was too young to know what I wanted,” Emma reminds me.
“Callum told me our marriage would never become real,” Jane adds.
“But you all had signs,” I whisper desperately. “Moments where you knew they loved you.”
Keira leans toward me, her voice firm.
“Mary, I saw the way he looked at you during the ceilidh.”
“And the way he held you,” Emma adds softly. “Like you were precious.”
“A man who feels nothing doesn’t look at a woman like that,” Jane finishes.
Suddenly, loud panting echoes from the hallway followed by the scraping sound of something heavy dragging across the floor.
Hamish Junior trots proudly into the room.
He’s hauling something enormous behind him with determined little grunts.
My stomach drops.
Finn’s entire medical bag.
Hamish Junior drags it triumphantly across the living room and deposits it directly in front of me.
Then he straightens proudly, chest puffed out, very obviously waiting for praise.
Silence crashes over the room.
With shaking hands, I unzip the bag.
Bandages.
Medication.
Blood pressure cuff.
Otoscope.
Everything’s inside.
“Oh my God. If he has an emergency…”
“What is wrong with these sheep?” Jane blurts out.
“It’s like they formed a coordinated anti-Finn operation,” Emma says in disbelief.
“This sheep just crippled Glenfield’s entire medical system,” Keira says between horrified laughter.
Hamish rises from his corner and walks over to Hamish Junior, bumping his head affectionately against him.
Rosita bleats proudly, clearly saying: Well done, son.
Hamish Junior absolutely glows under the parental approval.
“I just witnessed sheep parenting, and somehow that feels deeply weird,” Emma mutters.
The three sheep now line up perfectly side by side.
Hamish Junior in the middle looking unbearably proud.
Hamish on the left.
Rosita on the right.
All three stare at me with unsettling intensity.
“They look like a union delegation,” Emma whispers.
“Or lawyers presenting evidence,” Jane adds.
“The sheep officially formed a coalition against Finn,” Keira declares, laughing so hard she’s crying.
The three sheep bleat in unison.
I stare at the pile of stolen items spread before me.
A sock.
A stethoscope.
An entire medical bag.
“This is felony-level theft. Finn is going to—”
Hamish interrupts me with another authoritative bleat.
I stand and start pacing.
“Finn has feelings for you, Mary,” Keira says firmly.
“It’s obvious,” Emma adds.
“He’ll come to his senses,” Jane insists.
I shake my head.
“You don’t understand. You all had signs. Moments. Cracks in the armor. Finn doesn’t have cracks. He’s just… closed.”
“Mary,” Keira says softly, “a closed man doesn’t look at you the way he looked at you during that dance.”
“A man who feels nothing doesn’t lose his mind every time another man talks to you,” Jane adds.
“And an indifferent man doesn’t get drunk alone at the pub after pushing you away,” Emma finishes.
I freeze.
“How do you know that?”
“Ewan called Lachlan last night,” Emma says carefully. “Apparently Finn was in really bad shape…”
I sit back down abruptly.
“That changes nothing. He doesn’t want me.”
I inhale shakily.
“I’m leaving.”
“You mean leaving the castle?” Jane asks carefully.
I look at all three of them.
“I’m leaving Glenfield.”
They all start talking at once.
“Mary, no—”
“Wait a few days at least—”
“You can’t do that.”
I raise a hand for silence.
“I already started looking for another job. There’s a clinic in Perthshire hiring. And another in the Borders.”
“You’re really going to run away?” Jane asks quietly.
“I’m not running. I’m surviving.”
My voice breaks again.
“I can’t stay here and see him every day. Run into him in the village, at family dinners, and pretend it doesn’t destroy me.”
“But Glenfield is your home,” Emma whispers, tears in her eyes.
“Not anymore.”
The second those words leave my mouth, the three sheep react instantly.
Like one synchronized creature.
Hamish charges toward the front door and plants himself directly in front of it.
Rosita takes position beside him.
Hamish Junior blocks the center of the room.
All three bleat together.
“You’re officially being held hostage by a sheep family,” Jane says through tears and laughter.
“The parents and their child are refusing to let you leave,” Emma adds.
“This is simultaneously the most absurd and touching thing I’ve ever seen,” Keira concludes.
I walk over and crouch in front of them.
“I can’t stay, guys. Not even for you. I love all three of you. But I can’t.”
Hamish stares at me intensely.
Rosita steps forward and presses her muzzle against my hand.
Hamish Junior lets out a tiny mournful sound.
I stroke all three of them gently.
“I’m sorry.”
The sheep glance at each other.
Then, in perfect synchronization, they step aside.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
But they clear the path.
I rise to my feet on trembling legs and walk toward the door.
The three sheep follow me.
Keira, Jane, and Emma rise too, trailing behind us.
I turn one last time and look at the living room.
The medical bag.
The stethoscope.
The sock laid out in front of the couch.
“What am I supposed to do with… all this?”
“You could return it to him,” Keira suggests softly.
“Or keep it,” Jane says.
“Or let the sheep handle it,” Emma adds. “Honestly, at this point they seem more organized than we are.”
“He’s going to need his equipment,” I murmur.
“You can still change your mind,” Emma whispers.
I shake my head.
“I can’t stay and watch the man I love avoid me every single day.”
I know they want me to stay.
But my family—and apparently the sheep too—don’t understand one thing:
You can’t force someone to love you.