Page 5 of Highlands Summer Wedding

After we ordered cheese toasties, I looked from Caitlin to Angus.

“You’re getting married!” I exclaimed.

Caitlin blushed, and Angus grinned, taking her hand in his.

“And I hope you’ll do me the honor of being my maid of honor, Abby. It would mean the world.”

I jumped up and hugged her. “Of course! I’d be honored to be your maid of… honor.”

As we chatted about the details of the wedding, I noticed more people in period costumes outside the window.

“What is this movie they’re making here?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s always something,” said Angus.

Caitlin studied their outfits. “Judging from the 16th century clothes, probably something about Mary, Queen of Scots?”

“Haven’t they made enough of those?” asked Angus.

“There’s always room for another one, it seems,” said Caitlin.

“Do you know who’s starring? Who’s directing?” I asked.

They shook their heads.

Our toasties appeared just as the sky opened up, sending fat raindrops splattering against the window panes. We watched as a young production assistant handed out umbrellas and ponchos for the actors.

“And that’s yet another great reason to get married in the MacAlister Inn—no worries about the weather. I always wanted an outdoor wedding, but in Scotland the weather is so unpredictable,” began Caitlin, but Angus chimed in.

“It’s completely predictable. If you make plans outside, you’d better be ready for rain and midges,” he explained.

“What are midges?” I asked, wondering if it was some mythical Scottish monster.

“They’re like mosquitos, only worse. After they bite—or should I say, attack—they leave loads of little red bumps all over.”

“They come out in the Highlands when it’s rainy,” said Caitlin.

“Or wet,” continued Angus.

“In the summer,” added Caitlin.

“So we’re well and proper chuffed to have an indoor wedding in the Highlands!” said Angus.

We raised our glasses and clinked. “To indoor weddings!”

CHAPTER 3

The drive to Drumnadrochit took several hours. I looked out the window at rolling green hills dotted with grazing sheep, small villages tucked into valleys, streams that caught sunlight as they tumbled over rocks, and stone cottages with smoke curling from their chimneys. I could see why Caitlin’s friend, Melissa, had loved it here so much that she moved. Of course, inheriting a home didn’t hurt.

I leaned forward between the seats. “You’re not tempted to stay? Look at that light on the hills.”

“Aye, well…” Angus’s eyes crinkled in the rearview mirror. His attention shifted back to me, and I glimpsed white movement on the asphalt ahead.

“Sheep!” My hand flew to the back of the seat in front of me.

Angus’s foot eased on the brake, the car slowing just enough as the woolly obstacle ambled across. His hand found Caitlin’s on the center console, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Someday,” he murmured, eyes back on the road. “When the restaurant doesn’t need me every weekend. In the meantime, the flight from Boston to Scotland is fairly easy, and Mum visits as often as she can. It works.”

Caitlin gripped the door handle as we navigated another hairpin turn. “Thank God you’re behind the wheel. Between the sheep, these single-track roads, and driving on the left—I’d have crashed us into a loch by now.”