Heather turned back into the hall, setting Byrdie gently down. “She knew Mom,” she said, the words coming out a little dazed. “Reallyknew her. And she finally admitted it.”
Flynn slipped an arm around her shoulders, solid and sure. “Aye. Which means she’ll know more. Question is when she’ll be willin’ to share.”
Heather leaned into him, her mind already turning over the new names, the places. Culloden. West. Loch Arkaig. Eleanor had given her just enough to make the trail feel real.
And that, Heather thought, was more than enough to start.
Heather sat at the long oak table in Glenoran’s library, the books she’d bought in Inverness spread before her. The spines creaked as she flipped through them—Culloden histories, Jacobite legends, maps of the Highlands. Her mother’s missive lay beside them, edges softened by handling.
Byrdie hopped onto the table, sprawling across one of the open books like a furry paperweight. Heather absently stroked her back.
“Not helping, Byrd,” she muttered, affection warming the words.
Flynn dropped into the chair across from her, setting down a steaming mug of tea. “You’re going to drill a hole in that page if you keep staring at it like that.”
Heather glanced up, brow furrowed. “She gave us Loch Arkaig, Flynn. That’s not just pub gossip. I’d read about it before she even said the name. The Jacobite gold was supposed to go West. Nobody ever found it.”
“Aye, and from the way Eleanor tells it, a few folk broke themselves tryin’.” He blew on his tea, eyes steady on her. “You sure this is a road you want to walk?”
Heather traced a fingertip along the edge of the missive. “I already am,” she said quietly. “It was Mom’s path first, but I’mthe one standing on it now. If Loch Arkaig is the starting line, then… that’s where we go.”
Flynn set his mug down and reached across the table, catching her hand. His thumb traced slow circles across her knuckles.
“Campbell,” he said, voice low and sure, “I’ll go wherever you point the car.” His eyes gleamed with affection.
Something in her eased at that. The buzz of nerves and the ache of missing her mother tangled together, but didn’t feel quite so sharp with his hand around hers.
Without overthinking it, she rose and slid into his lap, looping her arms around his neck.
Flynn let out a surprised laugh, muffled against her hair. “Well, that’s one way to say thank you.”
“I just need you close for a minute,” Heather murmured. “That okay?”
He tipped her chin up until her eyes met his, the teasing fading to something softer. “Aye. As long as you like.”
The kiss that followed wasn’t rushed. It was steady, grounding, the kind that made the rest of the room fall away. For a little while, the books and maps and looming questions blurred at the edges. All she felt was the warmth of him, the solid beat of his heart beneath her hand.
When they finally pulled apart, Heather drew in a slow breath. “Tomorrow we head West,” she said. “Culloden first. Then Loch Arkaig.”
Flynn pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “We’ll take it slow. Let the past talk to us a bit before we go trampin’ after its riches.”
Heather rested her cheek against his shoulder, the wordless hum of agreement sinking deep. Safe wasn’t the word she would’ve chosen often for her life, but wrapped up in him, in this house, it nudged at her all the same.
Byrdie purred louder from her perch on the books, as if putting her official seal on the moment.
Flynn glanced at the cat, a grin tugging wide. “Even the wee beastie approves. Though I’ll admit, I’m still a bit jealous of how quick she gets your affection.”
Heather snorted against his shoulder. “Jealous of a cat?”
“Aye,” he said solemnly, though his eyes glinted. He reached over to scratch under Byrdie’s chin, earning a pleased rumble. “She doesnae even have to kiss you to keep ye.”
Heather swatted at his chest, cheeks warming. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re smiling,” he murmured, stealing one more soft kiss before letting her tuck herself back against him.
His hand traced idle lines along her back, soothing without effort. After a while, he said, “Culloden, then. We’ll give the history its say before we chase its shadows.”
Heather closed her eyes, picturing the battlefield she’d only ever studied in books, now no longer just a place in her mother’s research, but a stop on her own route.
