Must Love Highlanders by Patience Griffin Grace Burrowes

rocky outcroppings in spots. He drew Louise over to one, and she sank against it. Liam came down beside her, right immediately beside her.
    And he kept her hand in his.
    “I’m sorry,” Louise said, while the predictable elephant tried to sit on her chest. “New places, schedule whacked. Should have been more careful.” Mention of Robert, when he was supposed to be thousands of miles away, lecturing another, younger, more confident woman into a coma, probably hadn’t helped either.
    Liam rubbed his thumb back and forth across Louise’s knuckles. “You should be
less
careful. Enough new places and pretty views, and you’ll get your heart back, but that takes time.”
    And courage. “You speak from experience?”
    His thumb slowed. A dog that looked like Irish wolfhound-lite sniffed at Liam’s knee, then went trotting off toward the top of the hill.
    “I speak from experience, and from hope. Bad things happen, but then there are friendly dogs, beautiful portraits, delicious curries, and lovely views. There’s wee Henry, whom I will spoil shamelessly exactly as I do his cousins. There’s meaningful work, and a good sturdy piece of granite to oblige us when we’re a bit winded.”
    A bit winded.
Louise dropped her forehead to Liam’s shoulder, as the certainty that all creation faced imminent doom faded, replaced by a simple lump in her throat.
    “Were you a bit winded, after your bad breakup?” she asked.
    “I was flat knackered, but I’d already been going too hard and too fast for too long.”
    “I’ve left the profession that was supposed to be my salvation,” Louise said. “I’ve moved, ditched a relationship that wasn’t right, and I have no idea where I’m going.” And she’d been going at the lawyer stuff too hard and too fast for the five longest years in the history of lawyering, too. Trying to build a practice, trying to be a solid partner to Jane, who’d been born quoting
Marbury v. Madison.
    Liam’s arm came around Louise’s shoulders in a bracing squeeze. “Catch your breath, and we’ll take the last part slowly. The hill isn’t going anywhere, and we still have some light.”
    For one more moment, Louise had the blessed pleasure of Liam’s hand in hers and his arm around her shoulders in a friendly hug. Then he stood, though he remained beside her.
    Louise gave herself the space of three more slow, medium breaths—deep breaths could lead to hyperventilation—then got to her feet.
    “I’m not going back to Georgia for Christmas,” she announced. “Not this year, maybe not ever. Travel at the holidays is crazy, and I can see my sisters anytime.” Especially now that her life wasn’t ruled by the almighty court docket—though the academic calendar could be just as tyrannical.
    “Onward, then,” Liam said.
    He had the knack of companionship, of neither leading nor following, but staying mostly at Louise’s side. When the trail narrowed, he might go first, or Louise might. They didn’t need to talk about who led or who followed or which fork to take when they faced a choice.
    Because the afternoon was well advanced, the very top of the hill was mostly deserted. They passed the occasional couple or family on a picnic blanket, or a lone walker contemplating a view, but at the highest, rockiest point, they had the hill to themselves.
    The North Sea glistened off to the northeast, while beyond Edinburgh, green countryside stretched inland around the Pentland Hills. Louise got out her phone, wanting to capture the memory of a wonderful day.
    Despite the visit from her relatives.
    “You’re smiling,” Liam said. “Shall I take a photo?”
    “Please, and try not to put any gargoyles in my hair.”
    The same big, wire-haired dog came sniffing up the rocks, only this time his examination of Liam’s knee was cursory. As Liam fiddled with the phone, the dog came panting to Louise’s side.
    “You smell the chapel kitty,” Louise said, offering her hand for inspection. The dog