Without even turning her head, Fiona said, “Aye,” her face glowing with pride.
As we entered the gates of the thriving, picturesque town, its charm swept me away to another time. The winding cobblestone streets were lined with shops of various colors and shapes, all fitted together like perfectly matched puzzle pieces. A hundred fragrances swirled on the breeze, filling my nose with everything from savory grilled meat to fresh flowers. I smelled cinnamon and fresh baked bread, followed by the acrid tang of pitch. As we rounded a bend, the scent of something fried and salty made my mouth water.
Suddenly, I longed to experience this place at Christmastime; all lit up, gables coated in snow, doorways strung with garland, the scent of roasting chestnuts warming the icy breeze. It would be exactly like the miniature Christmas village I’d admired as a child in the window of Frank’s Hardware Store. I’d spent cumulative hours of time over the years at that window making up stories in my head for the ceramic people living, shopping, and caroling in the tiny town. More times than I could count, I’d wished I could shrink myself down and live in that idyllic setting.
“It’s like the Renaissance Festival,” Kenna murmured. “Only cleaner. Look, there’s a coffee stand!”
I had to smile at my friend’s analogy—further proof of why we complemented each other so well.
We approached a lively area of town where people were bustling with noticeable abandon. Many paused in their interactions to wave at the princes as we passed. Duncan directed our attention to a smartly decorated store window. “There’s Dinwiddie’s leather shop; softest, most durable boots ye’ll ever find. Doc Benoir’s medical practice is next door. Oh, and that yellow building on the corner is Millie’s Bakery. And this here’s the local market. Villagers sell fresh produce and handcrafted goods—”
“Can we stop here?” My words ran over Duncan’s, but I didn’t care. Until Scotland, I’d never been outside of Bainbridge, Indiana. I wanted to live in this moment: sink my teeth into Doon’s fresh fruits, feel the texture of the handwoven rugs, and slip my toes into Dinwiddie’s soft leather boots. I would experience every bit of magic while I could, because if life had taught me anything, it was that the good things never lasted.
When he didn’t answer right away, I begged, “Please?” He considered my question, which I didn’t understand, as it seemed fairly straightforward to me. After several seconds, he reached around and tapped Jamie’s shoulder.
Jamie pulled down a side street and parked the carriage, speaking to Duncan and Fergus in low tones. Then Duncan turned around and simply said, “Aye, lass. We can do that.”
“Thank you!” Tiny wings of excitement fluttered in my stomach.
Duncan hopped from the carriage to assist Kenna and Fiona to the ground. Too impatient for chivalry, I unlatched the door on my side of the carriage. As I stood, yards of fabric pooled around my legs. The last thing I needed was to trip over my own feet. Cursing the heavy skirts, I gathered them in one hand and turned to make the short leap.
Too late, I saw the bent figure crouched on the ground directly below me, folding down a set of collapsible stairs. I teetered in mid-step with one foot on the edge of the platform. Frantically, I grabbed for the side of the carriage … and missed. Arms windmilling in the air, I pitched forward.
As if in slow motion, I watched helplessly as the bent figure in front of me began to straighten.