“Is that true, lass?”
“Yep.”
A charge arced between them before Thorfinn sobered. “It’s not necessary for you to pass on it, lass. I’m just overtired—that’s all.”
“You don’t have to stay. I know you’re not keen on upper-crust soirees.”
“Racing is important to you, Rose. I want to be here when you cross the finish line.”
If Rose weren’t worried about embarrassing Thorfinn, she would have reached up and kissed him. Her parents had already broken their promise to her and had left even earlier than planned. They weren’t here to see her at the starting line, but somehow, their leaving didn’t bother her as much as it would’ve in the past. Not when she had Thorfinn, her friends, and the islanders with her.
“And,” Thorfinn said, moving a shade closer to her, “I enjoyed myself at the ceilidh. Mrs.Flett told me that she’s sold all of her current stock of sweaters and that she has orders for more.”
“At least two of the racers are wearing her designs,” Rose said, “and they’re known as very snappy dressers. Once photographs of them start showing up in the news rags, I suspect Mrs.Flett will have more work than she knows what to do with.”
“I’ve heard compliments about the whiskey too,” Thorfinn said. “And Young Thomas is enjoying working as an honorary ‘bellhop,’ as you called it. You were right about rich tourists bringing money to the isles.”
Joy shot through Rose, sweeter than she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t just a sense of happiness but one ofaccomplishment. She was starting to build something here in Orkney, something strong, something lasting, somethingpermanent.
“You’re really on board, then?”
“Aye.” Thorfinn nodded. “I’m sorry it took me so long to accept your vision and to see how truly grand it is.”
“You had your reasons.” Rose couldn’t resist patting the sleeve of his coat.
“You didn’t just help me chase the earl from Orkney yesterday. For weeks now, you’ve been loosening Mar’s grip on Hamarray and Frest ... and on me.”
A sense of pride rippled through Rose again, warm and pleasant. She was just about to ask what Thorfinn intended to do with his newfound freedom when the sound of a shell hitting the ground nearly blasted her from her feet.
Rose was back amid the ruination, her patients crying out in pain, begging her to move faster, pleading with her to stop. The sunny day had plunged into a dark night full of shadows. Warhorses snorted. Her Tin Lizzie rattled as an explosion hit close ... too close.
“Rose.”
A hand touched hers—warm, solid, real.
“Rose, lass, it was just an automobile backfiring. You’re fine. We’re here on Hamarray. Remember.”
The hallucination slowly drifted away as she focused on his heat. Thorfinn’s heat. She slid her thumb over his calluses to reach his wrist. His pulse beat under her flesh. Strong. Steady. Rhythmic.
Letting that ground her, she brought herself back to reality. This time, instead of reaching for a trusty cigarette, she wrapped her fingers around his.
“Hi there,” she said, her voice only a little shaky.
“Hello, Rose.” His husky, honeyed tone triggered a shiver through her already shaky body. But unlike the tingling sensation in her legs and arms, this quiver helped right her, not undo her.
“All drivers to their racers!” Ron Inkster called in his booming voice. Thorfinn had recommended picking him as master of ceremonies, and the man had done brilliantly so far.
“I suppose that is my cue.” Rose sucked in her breath and steadied her thundering heart.
“You don’t need to race if you don’t wish to,” Thorfinn said, watching her with concern.
“Oh, I always desire to race.” Rose sent her short hair swinging, but as she said the words, she realized something wonderful. She didwantto race, but she felt no desperate urgency to depress the accelerator and call upon the wind to whip away her troubles.
“Why don’t you join me?” Rose asked. “My mechanic won’t mind.”
Thorfinn glanced over at her sleek Raceabout with its fenders and headlamps removed for weight. “I wouldn’t want to make a mistake, lass, that costs you a win.”
“I don’t care a fig if I come in first or last.” And for the first time, it was true. She didn’tcravethe victory.
