Sammy glanced at his clothes, then back up at Harry, a snaggletoothed grin filling his face before he charged back to his bedroom. Harry followed to help keep the lad focused. Sammy got pulled off task by the smallest distraction.

Eleven minutes and forty-three seconds later, Harry grabbed his gear and headed out to the Land Rover. Wearing his wellies, Sammy hopped from puddle to puddle, splashing merrily, like a happy little bird.

Harry fired up the engine and set both wipers and heater on high before he started for Torwoodlee Castle.

“I’ll be a bit late picking you up tonight. Don’t be alarmed.”

“Why are you going to be late?”

“I’ve an errand to run in Selkirk first. Be sure to let Lady Elise know, will you?”

“Aye,” Sammy agreed.

“Are you going Scots on me, son?” Harry teased.

Sammy shrugged. “I’m practicing so my friend Thierry and me can speak a different language when we go home.”

“Gaelic, you mean?”

Sammy nodded.

“I hear they teach it in school.”

“They do?”

“Yes.” Sammy was still on term holiday and hadn’t started classes yet.

Sammy bounced in his seat. “I’m going to learn a secret language after break?” He slid a mischievous look at Harry. “Gran doesn’t know Gal—Gal—”

“Gaelic?”

“Aye. Gran doesn’t speak it, does she?” Sammy’s eyes gleamed.

“Are you trying to pull a fast one on your granny?”

“Maybe. That would be cracking, wouldn’t it?”

“That would be a fast way to earn a corner in Gran’s kitchen all to yourself.”

Sammy squished up his face. “Then I’ll only speak it to Thierry when I don’t want anyone else to understand.”

“Does Thierry speak Gaelic?”

“Aye.”

He and Sammy grinned at each other.

Rain pattered in fits and starts against the windscreen. Harry turned the 4x4 in at the castle gate and punched the electronic code. Then they were through, flying down the drive much too fast for Elise’s proper family. At the bottom of the castle steps, he whipped the steering wheel, spinning the Land Rover into a 180, spewing gravel in an arc behind the tires.

“Do it again!” Sammy squealed.

“No time. I’ve got to get on base.” Harry picked up his son’s pack and ruffled his hair. “Don’t forget to tell Lady Elise I’ll be late tonight.”

“I won’t. Bye, Dad.”

Sammy hopped out and slammed the door behind him. When he reached the top of the stairs, Sammy turned and waved. Harry honked and headed down the drive, watching his son enter the castle in the rearview mirror.

He desperately needed a childminder for the boy, one who could drive Sammy to school once the term holiday ended and Harry was stuck on base. Yesterday, he had booked the last available appointment at the Selkirk Recruitment Agency so he could meet with them today before they closed.