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“First off, look at this, eh?” He holds one arm out wide. “Me, hosting quiz night at the Pheasant! Who’d have thought it? Especially after the rumours that Maisie and I were set to start World War Three with our competitiveness. But here we are, working together! And this is just the beginning of a more collaborative approach between the Bannock Hotel and the Pheasant.”

People murmur their approval, and a few break into applause.

“Next up,” Jamie continues, “I regret to say I’ve actually had a number of complaints tonight. About you, Iona Stewart.”

Everyone turns to Iona, who blinks. “Er . . . you have?”

“Aye,” Jamie confirms. “If you could please stop waving around that sparkly engagement ring quite so smugly, then people might be able to concentrate on my questions. Thank you.”

The room bursts into laughter again, and Iona holds her hand aloft and gives her fingers a proud wee wiggle, the diamond catching the light.

I shake my head but laugh all the same. Iona’s been on cloud nine since getting engaged.

“Remind me,” I say quietly, nudging her with my elbow, “how did Lewis propose?”

Her cheeks flush pink. “Why do you keep asking me that? I’ve already told you. We were on a lovely walk one evening, and he just went down on one knee.”

“We keep asking,” Maisie says, leaning across the bar with a sly grin, “because every time we do, you blush. Which makes us think there’s more to the story than you’re letting on.”

“There isn’t!” she protests.

Before Maisie or I can press her further, Jamie continues. “And in other news, Ally and Emily welcomed their second child—another wee boy—into the world just yesterday. Baby and mother are both doing great, and Ally is . . . well, still Ally. So, I hope you all have a drink to hand—and if not, stop being a cheapskate and go order something off Maisie! This is a pub, people! Anyway, I’d like to ask you all to raise a glass to wee Ciaran.”

There’s a round of chuckles, and drinks are raised. “To Ciaran!” we all say.

I heard the good news last night as I was finishing up at the stables, and I popped by Ally and Emily’s house after work today. Ciaran is perfect—all pink and wrinkly with a tuft of chestnut hair, just like his big brother, Ru. Emily looked exhausted but delighted, and Ally was practically bursting with pride, even though he tried to play it cool.

“One last thing,” Jamie says. “Can we please all take a moment to appreciate how stunning Maisie looks tonight? That lilac hair suits her perfectly—not that there’s any colour she couldn’t pull off.”

The whole room goes, “Aww!”

Maisie tosses her hair and gives the pub a jokey regal wave.

“Of course, there are a lot of people around the world who adore Maisie’s videos,” Jamie adds, “but let’s not forget, she was ours first!”

The room answers with more awws and a smattering of cheers. Bryce, Maisie’s da, bellows, “Damn right!”

Jamie shoots Maisie a wink then dives back into his quizmaster routine.

“I still can’t believe you’re with Jamie,” I say to Maisie as he reads the next question. “I’m happy for you. I just . . . can’t wrap my head around the appeal.”

Growing up, Jamie was the bane of my existence—always pulling pranks, hiding my things, and generally being a nuisance. Even now, as an adult, he can’t resist winding me up at every opportunity. I don’t get how anyone—never mind Maisie—could fall for someone who delights in being so infuriating.

“I can see it now,” Iona says. “I couldn’t at first, but now I reckon they’re perfect for each other. Jamie’s met his match in Maisie.” Iona gives her a small approving nod. “No one can keep him in line like you can.”

I cock my head then admit, “That is true.”

Maisie glances back at Jamie, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“You know,” Iona says to Maisie, “we’re practically family now, what with our parents being together.”

Around the same time that Maisie and Jamie began to secretly see each other, so did Bryce and Elspeth. Elspeth is Iona’s maw. She’s also been something of a surrogate mother to me and my brothers ever since we lost our own maw.

“Aye,” Maisie agrees. “Plus, when you marry Lewis, you and Cat will become sisters.”

“And if you and Jamie ever get hitched,” I add, “we’ll all be sisters. One big happy but slightly weird family.”

“True! It’s funny how everyone is pairing off now.” Realisation hits Maisie a beat too late, and she winces. “Oh! Sorry, Cat. Not you, obviously, but⁠—”