Echoes of Edinburgh Read Online Free Page A

for me guid eatin’.”
    “True enough, but that’s not all.” Robert chuckled when Nessie gave his shoulder a light shove.
    “Enough of ye flirtin’ with an auldhen now,” the woman said with a wave of her hand. “Got to feed this lovely young lass.” Nessie’s gaze, rich and warm as roasted chestnuts, fell on her. “It’s your first visit to oor braw toun, is it now?”
    Shelby smiled. “I was here as a little girl, but it’s good to be back.”
    Nessie beamed. “Where in America are ye from?”
    “Kentucky.” Harrison gave her a curious look. Probably because she hadn’t answered Chicago. Even though she lived in the Windy City now, she’d forever be a girl from Kentucky. No matter where in the world she lived, that would never change.
    “Frae what I know, Kentucky’s like oor Scotland except ye’d be tradin’ oor sheep for yer horses.” Nessie focused on Robert. “Wud ye like a round of bannocks and crowdie to start?”
    “Sounds guid,” Robert said. “Did Laird make his famous hotch-potch or cock-a-leekie soup today?”
    “Aye, he made them both.” Nessie smiled. “I’ll bring ye some samplings.”
    Shelby listened as Robert and Harrison ordered, but it might as well have been in a foreign language. In a way, it was. Nessie wrote nothing down but listened and repeated each request.
    As they waited for their food, Robert told her more about the castle. “It’s the most popular attraction in Scotland. In medieval days, it served as the seat of royalty but then transitioned into a military center down through the centuries.”
    Harrison offered a few comments here and there, and she enjoyed the banter between her two companions. She’d always envied the ability to make friends easily, to share that kind of warm, natural camaraderie.
    When the first round of food arrived, Robert offered a prayer.
    “Oats are a staple here,” Robert said, holding out the plate of starters to her. “Bannocks are cakes made from oats.” He waited while she selected one and put it on her plate. “And this is crowdie, more or less the Scottish version of cream cheese. They’re often eaten together. May I?” When she nodded, he put a sample on her plate.
    “Crowdie is a little crumbly and tastes slightly sour,” Harrison added. “It also helps alleviate the effects of whiskey, which here in Scotland is spelled w-h-i-s-k-y .” When she laughed, he shrugged. “Not that it matters much, I suppose. A fun fact to know and tell.”
    Shelby twisted her lips. “So, is Abernethy’s your usual watering hole?”
    “Hardly.” Harrison laughed. “Learned that lesson a long time ago. A little goes a long way, my friend.”
    “This tastes really good,” Shelby said as she sampled the bannocks and helped herself to another. “Better than I anticipated.” Trying the crowdie, she found it palatable but more of an acquired taste.
    Assisted by a young male server holding a tray, Nessie placed steaming bowls of soup and a small loaf of homemade bread on the table. Shelby breathed in the wonderful aromas. “This all looks and smells great. So,” she said, addressing Harrison, “tell me more about your work with the foundation.”
    “I work with the individuals and organizations who apply to sponsor programs.” From the spark in his eye, Harrison’s love of his work was readily apparent. “I take photos, gather pertinent information, conduct interviews and order background checks, financial statements, that sort of thing. Then I assimilate everything, write up my reports, and present my recommendations to the foundation board.”
    “Not everyone who applies to be a sponsor is accepted?” Shelby said, knowing her surprise must be evident.
    Harrison shook his head. “The short answer is no. For one thing, we never accept funding from a company that supports causes contradictory or anathema to Christianity. It’s important to investigate the company’s policies, personnel, political funding, overall