Page 17 of A Memory Not Mine (Sanguis Amantium #1)

Chapter sixteen

Baird

T he small pub at Blackwaterfoot was bustling by midday when they arrived. Bunny trotted in behind Baird and Mira as if she owned the place, heading straight for the hearth and flopping down by the fire with a satisfied grunt.

“Baird! Where have ye been, son? I haven’t seen ye in a week,” the bartender—a thin man with salt-and-pepper hair and ice-blue eyes—boomed across the room. “And who’s this wee bonny lass wi’ ye?”

Baird offered the introductions tersely.

“Robbie, this is Mira Garvie—an American visiting our fair isle. I found her up at the Blue Pools.” He kept their initial meeting to himself—the moment he’d found her collapsed at the grave the night before, uncertain whether Mira would want such a vulnerable detail shared with another stranger.

Then, turning to Mira, he added, “This is Ol’ Robbie—pub owner, sheep farmer, town gossip, and all-around ne’er-do-well.”

“Ye wound me, Baird Campbell.” Robbie scowled, though a smile tugged at his lips as he turned to Mira. “So, what’ll ye have, lass?”

“What’s good?” Mira asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

“I have it on the highest authority that I make the best cheeseburger and chips on the island. ”

“That sounds perfect. Sold!” She grinned. “And a pint of Stella.”

“I like yer style, lass,” Robbie said with a wink.

“I’m gonna grab that table by the fire to warm up. Nice to meet you, Robbie.” Mira gave a small wave and walked off.

Robbie nodded after her, then leaned across the bar toward Baird conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “Oh, lord…yer in trouble, my boy. Is this the one ye had the visions of?”

Baird frowned and gave a single, almost reluctant nod.

“Did she fall in at the Blue Pools?”

Baird shrugged and turned his head toward where Mira now sat, her profile lit by the glow from the fire, curls wild around her face as her hair began to dry. “She went swimming.”

“What then…?” Robbie asked, eyes hungry for the details.

“What then? Nothing.” Baird responded harshly. “I told her ye had a fire to warm herself by, and she followed me. And here we are.”

Robbie shook his head in mock disapproval. “If that’s how it went down, ye’ve got more willpower—and less sense—than I ever gave ye credit for, Baird Campbell. I suppose ye’ll be needing a burger too, just for appearances?”

“Aye, Robbie. I will.” Baird’s voice was low, almost tired, but his eyes never left Mira.