Page 17

The harbor was the definition of peaceful. Rain blanketed the area with blurred, gray clouds, and droplets faintly clicked against the stone pathway she walked on.

This sight was different from the sea she’d observed in Spain and Italy. The water there had been unbelievably turquoise, sunshine glinting off the surface in blinding rays of diamond white. She had devoured the sight and lingered whenever possible, feeling energized at the spectacle.

She had to admit, however, that while she loved the brilliance of it all, her eyes had become too easily strained and her body too often overheated by the sun.

But here, things moved at a slower pace. The lights, the sounds, the smells. Even the very air was cooler. Quieter. Softer. It was strengthening instead of energizing. Soothing instead of stimulating.

The muted lighting naturally urged her to take slower, deeper breaths, the gray clouds lending their slow movements to her, as if they wished her to take her time, too.

So with the soup that had warmed her belly and her soul, and the air that was cooling her cheeks and her fingertips, she reveled in the moment she now had to just…be.

And yet, all too soon, time crept up behind her like a thief.

With a sigh, she turned her back to the sea and made her way toward the bus. The only thought that comforted her was the idea of seeing Finn again. Could she spot him now?

She lifted her gaze down the long road to where the bus was parked in a large parking area outside of Doherty’s. Finn was nowhere in sight, though the bus was there in all of its burnt orange glory, a line of people filing into it.

Her stomach turned uncomfortably. Those passengers lining up had to be early, right? She didn’t want to make them wait again—and she really didn’t want to do whatever Finn had in mind to make stragglers pay for their tardiness.

And yet, a quick glance at her watch confirmed that it was exactly two minutes before one—and she was at least five minutes from the bus.

Ignoring the gray skies’ whispers to slow down and her full stomach protesting her swift movements, Maisie sprint-walked forward, keeping her eye on the line of passengers as it grew shorter and shorter until finally, she crossed the last street and flew to the bus.

Breathless, she reached the bottom of it, only then noting a woman speaking with Finn at the top step. With zero space to maneuver around her, Maisie had no choice but to wait at the bottom of the doors to be allowed on.

She had yet to see Finn’s face. Maybe he hadn’t seen her come late then.

She drew settling breaths and eyed the side of the bus where an oversized map of the sites they were visiting splayed out across the side of it. She focused hard on the drawings of each location, attempting not to listen to the conversation taking place before her, though the words slipped past her attempts and settled right in her ears.

“I just didn’t think a dog would be allowed on this tour,” the woman said, her hands on her hips. Her accent was as American as they came, and she wore her dark, shoulder-length hair straight and simple. “I would’ve chosen a different company, had I known.”

“I do understand your frustration, Mrs. Waterstone,” Finn said, his deep voice trailing around the woman toward Maisie. “But do you have any allergies to dogs?”

“No, I just don’t like them.”

Finn didn’t respond for a minute. Maisie would have given anything to see his expression.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he finally said. “If the dog becomes an issue, I’ll handle it directly.”

“I just think it was really unprofessional that we weren’t told beforehand that we’d be subjected to this,” she stated, her head wagging back and forth as she spoke.

Maisie glanced at the windows along the bus, though she couldn’t see anything past the glinting, tinted glass. She hoped Renee wasn’t hearing this. Maisie wouldn’t want the woman to feel badly.

“Ach, aye,” Finn responded. “But there’s a wee clause on our website right where you book your tickets that says service animals, companion animals, and emotional support animals are allowed if they’ve got proper clearance. I can vouch for Trifle havin’ special permission from Nirbt as an emotional support animal to⁠—”

“Emotional support animal,” Mrs. Waterstone interrupted with a scoff. “That’s just an excuse to not have to pay a dogsitter.”

Maisie looked away to hide her frown. It really wasn’t her place to judge, especially because she could understand Mrs. Waterstone’s perspective. Maisie wasn’t really a dog person herself. She preferred pigs.

But Trifle hadn’t barked, shed, or peed on the bus once. In fact, as far as dogs went…she basically wasn’t one. Renee had cared for her pet perfectly.

What Maisie was upset about was Mrs. Waterstone’s lack of respect for Renee and her need for a companion animal. Who was she to decide another person’s needs when they differed from her own?

Obviously, Finn didn’t approve of where the conversation was headed either, as in the next moment, he stood from his seat and spoke with a tone that clearly revealed they were done.

“Thanks, Mrs. Waterstone,” Finn said, his head still not visible to Maisie. “I’ll be sure to pass on your feedback to me employer. If you’d be kind enough to take your seat, we’ve more passengers keen to get out of this rain and hop on the bus.”

Mrs. Waterstone delivered an audible sigh, then trudged down the center aisle without looking back at Maisie, muttering to herself. “Dogs and babies. What’s next, birds?”