Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I loved Scotland. I’d grown up in Ireland, but something about this country called to me, and I felt at home here. I loved the people, the scenery, and the bustle of the cities. The green and the mountains. The unpredictable weather. Spring in the morning, winter by midafternoon some days. Ireland was close enough I could get there quickly, but I did enjoy living in Edinburgh. We handled a lot of cases in Dublin as well, and I was there often but enjoyed returning to my place here.
And the cottage was the bonus I’d never expected. I used it when I could get away. I had a second cousin—Bonnie, who lived here as well after she’d moved back from Canada—whom I let use it when she asked. And on occasion, we rented it to people we knew. Bonnie handled that part, always making sure I wasn’t planning on being there. By only letting trusted people stay there, it was well maintained and used. I had a local woman go in every week to air it out and make sure everything was fine.
I sighed as I rubbed my eyes. Lloyd was right. I needed a break, and a few days at the cottage sounded perfect. I kept clothing and toiletries there. I could call ahead and place a grocery order at the small store in the village. Mrs. Harris would pack it up and leave it in the pickup cabinet for me to get since the store would be closed when I arrived. I would only need a few things. I would probably stroll back into the village to the pub for a meal and a pint the next day and could pick up anything else I required.
I frowned as I recalled I had left my personal phone at home that morning. In fact, I had been so busy, I hadn’t checked it this week, knowing if it was an emergency, my family would contact my business cell first anyway since I was never without it. But I could take my work phone with me and check messages on the train. If I wanted to make it, I would have to leave soon.
Decision made, I stood, snapping off my light and grabbing my coat, shrugging it on as I left. I had my laptop in my briefcase and a few things I might look over if I was so inclined. I hurried for the station, pulling my coat around me as I felt the surprising coldness of the air. I should have checked the forecast before I left, but I’d forgotten in my rush. I would do it on the train after I called the store.
The train was full, but I got a window seat, the older woman beside me immediately pulling out her knitting. I called the shop, speaking to Mr. Harris. He seemed confused, thinking his wife had already done an order for me. He was a bit scatterbrained at times, and I assured him I hadn’t called one in. I kept my order brief, requesting eggs, milk, a loaf of bread, some ham slices, and bacon, as well as coffee. I would have a good breakfast in the morning after sleeping in and then decide what else I wanted to purchase. I always kept my favorite whiskey under lock and key at the cottage. It was only for me. I stored a few bottles of wine there as well. The village was only a ten-minute walk from the cottage, and I would shop more tomorrow. Mr. Harris assured me he would leave it in the pickup container by the door.
“It’s cold here, Mr. Black. Snow is coming,” he informed me. “You sure this is enough? You might be stuck.”
I added a few other items and assured him I would be fine. Looking out the window into the darkness, I could feel the wind as it buffeted the train, but there was no snow to be seen.
I rested my head against the back of the train seat, shutting my eyes. As usual, simply the thought of escaping to the cottage relaxed me. The contemplation of the waves crashing on the shore, the endless span of water and sky from the windows. Just me, a good book, a roaring fire, and some peace brought a smile to my face.
I dozed, waking suddenly as the train shuddered. I opened my eyes, seeing all the passengers staring out the windows. Wet snow hit the glass, the wind ferocious-sounding as it slammed against the panes. I glanced at my watch, noting we would be arriving soon. Apparently, the snow had decided to join me. I was sure it would blow hard and then settle back into the normal weather here for late fall. I wasn’t overly concerned.
A short while later, I disembarked from the train, the cold temperature surprising me a little. I held the collar of my coat up to my face and headed into the village, stopping at the small store, opening the pickup cupboard, still amazed that in this day and age they offered this service. In town, the groceries would be gone five minutes after they were placed inside. But here, I had never had anything taken. If the cupboard was full, people found their order and left the rest alone. It was refreshing. I pulled out my groceries, grateful they had put them into easily carried bags. Mine was the last pickup, most of the town shut down for the night, aside from the pub. I was tempted to stop and get a pint and maybe a pie and some mash, but I decided to wait until tomorrow. I had grabbed a couple of sandwiches in the station and eaten them on the train, so I wasn’t overly hungry. I was, however, tired and looking forward to crawling into bed.