Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5) by Karina Halle Read Free Book Online Page B

decide. Everything I own just doesn’t seem good enough.”
    I can see the glimmer of fear in her eyes. It softens me, inside out.
    “Listen, love,” I tell her. “There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about. You are good enough. Bloody hell, you’re far too good for me. You know Jessica and Donald love you and they won’t ever do anything but love you…that’s just how they are.”
    “But I haven’t seen them since I moved back here. I don’t know, what if they think I’m totally crazy now, you know, for coming here?”
    I can’t help but smile. “Well, I assure you they already think you’re a bit nuts. I mean, you are with me after all.”
    “I’m serious,” she says, adjusting her grip on the suitcase until I take it from her.
    “I know you are. It’s going to be fine.”
    At least, I’m hoping it will be. I know they all love her and are especially excited for her to spend Christmas with us. It’s just George that I’m still a bit worried about. And I know she feels the same way.
    “And your grandfather?” she asks, right on target.
    I look away, wiggling my lower jaw as I search for the right words. “Take anything he says with a grain of salt. We all do.”
    Except for me, of course. But I’m still learning.
    Eventually we get all our luggage and the dogs into the car, stopping by my friend Amara’s flat first. Normally I bring at least Lionel with me everywhere, if not Emily and Jo, but George is decidedly against dogs. That should tip you off about his character right there. One time I brought Lionel and he would barely let me in the house. I spent an hour having tea and then left back for Edinburgh right away. I won’t be making that mistake again, not now.
    Maybe this isn’t a very macho thing to admit, but whenever I say goodbye to the dogs it gets a bit emotional. They always know what’s up and even though they have a good time with Amara, it pulls at my heart to see their sad eyes, hear that whine.
    Naturally, it puts me in a pensive mood for our drive to Aberdeen. I’m barely noticing the way the snow deepens, how charming the landscape becomes, until Kayla gasps and taps me on the arm.
    “A castle!” she exclaims, turning to look at me with wide eyes. “Can we go?”
    I look up, missing the sign she must have seen. Still, we’re about a half hour south of Aberdeen and close to the coast and Dunottar Castle.
    “You mean Dunottar?” I ask.
    “Yes, I think,” she says. “I mean, if it’s not much trouble.”
    Nothing would be too much trouble when it comes to her and I’m certainly in no hurry to get to Aberdeen now that this dark mood has found me. Besides, it has been ages since I’d last been to a castle.
    I take the next exit and soon we find ourselves standing on the wind blasted cliffs at Dunottar Castle. There is no snow here at the moment, just an endless green that swoops down to the roaring sea. It somehow feels colder here than anywhere else and I instinctively put my arm around Kayla, holding her tight as her scarf whips around her.
    “This is like out of a movie,” she says in awe, taking it all in. “Or Game of Thrones.”
    “Actually,” I tell her proudly, “the movie Hamlet with Mel Gibson was shot here.”
    And it’s easy to see why. The castle is perched on a part of the cliffs that juts out to sea, providing only a narrow isthmus as a walkway to the castle. As we make our way down the path and across the narrow neck to the sprawling, crumbling castle walls, it’s easy to see how back in the day this place was naturally protected against enemies. With high cliffs that plunge to the sea nearly surrounding the whole thing, it’s as good as an island.
    There are a lot of steps leading down from the carpark and across to the castle and a few times the wind comes at us as if it’s trying to knock us off the path, an age old protector of the ruins. In fact when we pay for our tickets, the woman warns us that they might have to close the