Page 119 of Of Heather and Thistle
She chuckled, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “Looks like we’ve got some digging to do.”
Heather was still staring at the letter when a familiar knock sounded at the door.
She sighed, shaking her head. “You ever heard of texting before showing up?”
Flynn smirked as he stepped inside, his gaze immediately landing on the open folder on the table. “What’s all this?”
Heather hesitated, then slid the documents toward him. “History.”
Flynn’s brow furrowed as he skimmed through the pages. “Is this what you took to the museum?”
She nodded. “Turns out my ancestor was a Jacobite courier. And he might’ve hidden something people have searched forover two centuries.”
Flynn let out a low whistle, setting the papers down. “You’re telling me there’s actual buried treasure on this property?”
Heather exhaled. “Maybe.”
Flynn crossed his arms, looking at her with amusement. “So, let me get this straight. You were ready to sell this place and run back to the States, and now you’re on a full-fledged treasure hunt?”
Heather groaned. “You make it sound ridiculous.”
Flynn grinned. “Lass, that because itiscompletely ridiculous.” He gestured around the room. “You were set on leaving and had the whole escape plan mapped out. Now, you’re standing here with documents from a national museum and telling me you’re about to uncover buried treasure.”
Heather opened her mouth to protest, but Flynn held up a hand. “Not that I’m complaining. This is much more interesting than watching you pack up boxes.”
She rolled her eyes. “So you’re in?”
Flynn let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, then smirked. “Aye. But only because if you start digging without me, you’ll end up buried in your own trench.”
Heather hesitated before adding, “I don’t need a babysitter, Flynn. I’ve got this.”
Flynn chuckled. “So, you’re planning to do all this investigating on your own?”
Heather opened her mouth to argue—of course, she was doing this alone. That was what she did. That was how she had always done things.
She had come here alone, sorting through her mother’s things alone. She had rebuilt her life without expectinganyone to step in.
And yet…
Flynn had been there, through every scraped knuckle, every late-night doubt, every moment when she thought she might walk away.
She swallowed, gripping the edge of the table. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be done alone.
Flynn smirked. “This house tends to nearly collapse on you every time you so much as breathe near a weak floorboard.”
Heather huffed. “Excuse you—it’s structurally sound now, thank you very much.”
Flynn leaned against the table, crossing his arms. “Fine. But if you think I’m letting you go digging around ancient ruins alone, you don’t know me very well.”
Heather gave him a look. “It’s not a temple, it’s a house.”
Flynn grinned. “A house that might be sitting on lost Jacobite gold.”
Heather sighed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “Alright, fine. But if you’re going to help, you follow my lead.”
Flynn pressed a hand to his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”
Heather rolled her eyes, but warmth spread through her chest.
