On some level, Fergus Mackenzie had always known there was something wrong with his dad, yet it was only recently he’d realized what the quiet sadness in his father’s eyes meant—he was lonely.

How was this possible? He and his dad lived in a fantastic place on the edge of a Scottish loch with his aunts, uncles, and cousins just down the road.

When Fergus asked his aunt Meg if his dad might be lonely, she went quiet and stared off towards the snow-capped mountains on the other side of the loch, sadness in her eyes.

“Aye, lad,” she said. “Your dad needs a girlfriend, but he thinks he doesn’t want one. I’d love to see him happily married, but there’s nothing like a Mackenzie man for being stubborn and bullheaded.”

Fergus pledged to himself he would make his dad happy. Together, they went kayaking, climbing, bird watching, and skiing, and his dad often laughed. Yet in quiet moments, the sadness always crept back into his eyes.

Finally out of ideas, Fergus decided that maybe his aunt Meg had it right and there was only one thing that would cure his dad’s loneliness—Fergus must find him a wife.

• • •

“Dad, open the present from me first,” Fergus shouted over the happy chatter in the drawing room at Kindrogan Castle on Christmas Day. His eager brown eyes sparkled with mischief beneath his unruly thatch of dark hair.

Relaxing back in the leather sofa by the roaring fire, Hew Mackenzie nodded to his son. After the wonderful Christmas lunch his sister-in-law Naomi had cooked, he was ready for a wee dram of local whiskey. From the bottle-shaped gift in his son’s hands, things looked promising.

“Did you choose this yourself, lad, or did you have some help?” It concerned him a little that someone in Kinder Vale might have sold a bottle of spirits to a ten-year-old.

“Sort of.” Fergus shared a conspiratorial glance with Hew’s sister, Megan, suggesting she’d had a hand in choosing the bottle, which laid Hew’s concerns to rest. Megan knew her whiskey, so it would be a good brand.

The log fire cracked in the huge fireplace. The smell of pine needles and wet dogs drying after a game in the snow filled the room with the reassuringly familiar smell of a Mackenzie Christmas Day.

Hew’s two seven-year-old nieces, Heather and Holly, skipped in front of him wearing sparkly pink dresses and tiaras while waving star-tipped wands in time to a Christmas song playing on Holly’s new iPad.

Carefully holding the bottle-shaped present, Fergus sat on the sofa beside Hew and passed the gift to him. Then he flapped his hands for quiet.

“Shush, everyone. Dad’s going to unwrap my present.”

The room fell silent as others paused in unwrapping gifts and looked their way. Hew lifted his eyebrows as he glanced at his son. This must be a darn good bottle of whiskey to deserve such a fuss. He cast Megan a questioning glance, and she motioned for him to hurry up.

“Come on, Hew. Don’t keep us waiting.”

There was something he was missing here. Come to think of it, the gift felt a little light to be a bottle full of whiskey. Curious, he tugged away the shiny holly-patterned paper and slid the bottle free. Stoppered with a discolored old cork, the bottle was weathered, a faint smell of the ocean coming from it.

With a quick mystified glance at Fergus’s grinning face, he held the opaque bottle up to the firelight and squinted. There was something inside, not liquid but a folded piece of paper.

“What is this?”

Fergus bounced on the sofa beside him. “A message in a bottle, Dad. Read the note.”

“What does it say?” Hew could sense his sister’s hand in this, some new matchmaking trick of hers. She was always trying to pair him off with some woman or another.

“You have to read it to find out. I found the bottle myself on the school trip to Stonehaven. It was just lying among the seaweed on the beach.”

Hew turned the bottle over in his hands, assessing its condition. The erosion of the glass suggested it could have been in the water a long time. On closer inspection, the cork was damaged at the side, as though it had been levered out and put back in recently.

“Did Auntie Meg put the note in here?” he asked his son.

“No, Dad.” Fergus rolled his eyes. “The note was in the bottle when I found it.”

“So you’ve already read it?”

“Of course we have,” Megan said. “Stop procrastinating and read the blessed note, Hew. You’re driving me crazy with anticipation.”

Hew’s eldest brother, Duncan, chuckled, and Hew gave in and tugged out the cork. He upended the bottle and a tightly rolled piece of paper tumbled onto his lap. It appeared to be cream-colored card tied with a length of discolored white ribbon.

When he pulled on one end of the ribbon, it came undone, allowing the roll of paper to loosen. He spread it out. Beneath a small watercolor print of an idyllic sandy beach fringed with palm trees, it said, “Courtesy of Hideaway Cove Resort, the most romantic place in the world.”

“That’s in the Caribbean,” Fergus said. “Auntie Meg and I looked it up on the Internet.”

Hew nodded mutely. He was starting to think this might be genuine, and that seemed worse than Megan faking it. His lips pressed tightly together, he turned the piece of card and read the small, neat handwriting on the back.

Greetings from Enchanted Island in the Caribbean.

I’m Faith, a twenty-nine-year-old army veterinarian from England.

Applications are now open for the position of my dream hero!

If you are blond, charming, and wealthy, please toss the bottle back in the ocean as you are not my type. Ha-ha. (Previous bad experience!)

Joking aside, whoever you are, it would be great if you could message me on my Facebook page. I’d love to know where this bottle ends up.

At the top of the note were a date and the woman’s Facebook page address.

“This bottle has been in the ocean for nearly three years.” Hew mentally traced the journey it must have taken across the North Atlantic, from just above South America to the British Isles. “It’s had an impressive journey. I reckon it must have come about four and a half thousand miles.”

Fergus tapped the Facebook profile name on the paper. “Get out your phone, Dad, and send her a message.”

Hew nodded, although he had already decided he wouldn’t bother. He had no interest in striking up a chat with some woman he’d never met, especially one who was looking for a dream hero. His brothers were the heroes in this family, and they were both married.

“It’s a fun gift. Thanks, Gus.” He ruffled his son’s hair affectionately.

“Send her a message now, Dad. Look.” Fergus pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and showed him the screen. “This is the woman who wrote the message.” He flashed an image of a smiling woman with long blond hair, her arms around a black spaniel. She was certainly attractive, no denying that.

Hew gazed at the photo for a few moments until he became aware his family was still watching him. “I’m not going to message her now. It’s Christmas Day.”

“Excuses,” Megan jeered.

“I can message her for you, Dad. Shall I give her your phone number so she can call you?”

“No!” The word came out more harshly than Hew intended, and he tried to soften the impact by putting an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Just leave it be, lad. Don’t message her. I’ll do it in my own time.”

Megan folded her arms and gave him a knowing look. “Hew Mackenzie, you can’t stay single forever.”

Oh yes, he jolly well could.