Twelve
“I appreciate y’all being willing to move poker night over here. Mabel’s not really where we can leave her alone too long right now.” Raleigh stepped back as Angus, Connor, and his cousin, Ewan McBride, who owned The Stag’s Head Pub in Glenlaig, stepped into the kitchen, trailed by a fourth guy Raleigh hadn’t met.
“Raleigh, Toby Byrne. Toby. Raleigh Beaumont,” Connor said, by way of introduction to the lanky guy in a navy t-shirt and kilt.
Toby grinned. “The Texan with the magic touch. Hugh hasnae stopped talking about how you fixed his tractor.” At Raleigh’s blank look, he continued. “I’m the village mechanic. You saved me an afternoon’s pain in the arse.”
“Happy to help. And nice to meet you.”
Ewan glanced over at the pallet of blankets by the empty fireplace. “I cannae quite
