Page 62 of A Scot on the Rocks

Yet for the first time since she’d arrived, being here felt less like being stranded in history and more like being a part of it.

Chapter 11

Olivia

Getting up at the crack of dawn wasn’t so bad when there was delicious coffee waiting, but getting up in the dark, the cold wind blowing through the windows made her grouchy.

“Ye look like ye slept in the hay.” He reached out and plucked a bit of straw from her hair.

“Felt like it too.” Olivia yawned. It was tough of an accomplishment that she’d managed to dress herself.

He handed her the black wool cloak. “So ye don’t catch a chill.”

“Where are we going?” Olivia followed Jamie outside, coming to a stop when she saw the horse waiting beside Bess.

The animal was small, shaggy, and watching her with the patient resignation of a creature that had carried inexperienced riders before.

“I’m taking ye to see the still.”

A grin broke across her face. “Really? Thank you.”

Jamie was crouched beside the pony tightening the girth. He looked up, his hair damp with mist. “Aye, well, I canna leave ye alone here, I might come home to find ye have moved the furniture about.”

It was his illicit still he was taking her to see, which made the gesture mean even more to her. Maybe he was starting to trust her.

“What’s her name?”

“Mally.”

Olivia looked at Mally. “Be nice and I’ll give you a carrot.”

Getting onto a pony in petticoats required more skill than she thought. Olivia gathered her skirts, located the stirrup, and accepted Jamie’s cupped hands beneath her boot with what remained of her dignity. Mally shifted the instant Olivia found the saddle, nearly sending her down the opposite side until Jamie caught her and lifted her into it.

“Now, loosen your grip on the reins.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, then smiled sweetly when he narrowed his eyes at her.

He mounted Bess with irritating ease and led them out of the yard.

The little village was already starting its day as they rode. Smoke curled from cottage chimneys while a boy carried a bucket nearly as large as he was and a girl in a brown wool dress chased geese from a patch of cabbages with a few choice words that Olivia suspected Morag would appreciate.

Everywhere she looked, people were busy. Water had to be carried, fires coaxed awake, animals fed, bread made, clothing repaired, peat cut, food preserved, and none of it happened because somebody placed an online order, pushed a button, or opened a refrigerator door.

Olivia thought briefly and bitterly of the coffee maker sitting in her guest room back in her own time.

Jamie glanced over. “What?”

“I was thinking about coffee.”

“I dinna care for the stuff but I have some if ye want it. It’s mixed with hazelnuts so maybe not as good as what ye had in Boston.”

She turned toward him almost falling off Mally who shook her head. “You have coffee and you didn’t tell me?” The thought of a cup almost made her swoon. “Coffee is one of civilization’s great achievements.”

“Better than those boots of yours?”

Olivia considered the question seriously. “Different category.”

Jamie laughed and nudged Bess ahead as the track narrowed. “I’ll make sure ye have a cup later.”