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As Mike’s leg healed, he enjoyed his holiday more and more. In fact, he never wanted it to end. After slipping to town to do a bit of shopping, he decided it was time to take the next step with Henri. No, it wasn’t too soon. The timing was perfect. And for the first time in his life, he actually couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. He didn’t even want to look at anyone else. Unheard of. Who knew he’d been waiting all his life for an American sniper to win his heart?

He found her reading in the solarium. “Hiya.” He dangled his keys. “The day’s too bonny not to take a drive.”

She set the book aside. “Ooo! I’ve been wanting to drive that fancy car of yours.”

Mike’s gut squeezed. He’d never allowed anyone to drive the 911. “Perhaps after we travel deeper into the Highlands.”

“Okay. Where are you taking me?”

“Out and about.” He led her to the garage and pulled the cover off his red Porsche.

Henri whistled as she ran her fingers over the sleek lines. “She’s a beauty.”

“My pride and joy.” He opened the door for her. “At least until I met you.”

She hesitated for a moment, a pinch to her brow expressing unease. She bit her bottom lip as if hundreds bad memories suddenly flooded into her head. Mike almost regretted his words until she blessed him with a radiant smile. “Do you mean that?”

“Every word.”

After he slid into the driver’s seat, the car rumbled to life. Mike loved the deep purr of the motor and the way the tires hugged the curves of the road. He drove out of town up past Connel and along the A85 to Loch Awe. Just before they passed over the River Orchy, Henri pointed. “Look, it’s a castle.”

“Kilchurn Castle, built by the Campbells of Glenorchy.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is, and in ruins like so many medieval castles in Scotland.” He drove past the visitors turn, because that’s not where he was heading. At least not today. A bit further down the road, he took a turn, then drove along a dirt road until he came to a stop at a cottage hidden deep in the wood.

“Where are we?” Henri asked.

“Me mum’s place.”

“Mother? You’ve never talked about your mom.”

“I figured it was time you met her.” He shut off the motor. “I’m warning you, she’s a bit forgetful, but kindhearted.”

“Does she know we’re coming to pay a visit?”

“Nay.” He dashed around and opened Henri’s door. “Come. She’ll love you.”

Eagle Eyes didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.” She ran her fingers down her braid. “But you should have told me where we were going. I would have brushed out my hair or something.”

“Good idea.” He pulled the elastic from the end of her braid and unraveled the yard of shiny, black locks. Running his fingers through it, he turned her hair into a silken mane. “There. Now you’re ready.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced but, nonetheless, she was stunning.

Mike pulled her toward the door and gave a knock. Just as he expected, as Mum opened it, an astonished grin spread across her face. “Michael! What a pleasant surprise.”

He gave his mother a hug and made the introductions.

“Henrietta, now that’s a name you dunna hear much anymore.” Mum gestured inside the quaint cottage where Mike had grown up with his younger brother, James. “Come in and I’ll make a pot of tea.”

“And shortbread?” he asked.

“Of course.” Mum led Henri to the settee. “I’m surprised Michael isna as big as the house. He adores my shortbread. Always has.”

“I can’t wait to taste it.”

“How’s the roof holding up?” Mike asked, sitting beside Henri.

“Good.” She put the kettle on to boil. “How is the fishing up north, Michael? It must be good because I haven’t seen you in weeks.” It had been over six months.

“We’re having a record year.” He gave Henri a wink.

The lass mouthed, “Fishing?”

“You ken. I’m a commercial fisherman up in Iceland.” Mike must have forgotten to tell Henri his alias job—the thing friends and family thought he did for a living. “You heard anything from James?”

“Who?” Mum asked.

It tore him up inside to see his mother so forgetful. In her prime, she’d been so sociable, a strong family matriarch. He cleared his throat and batted away the memories. “Your son. Two years younger than me.”

“Oh, that James. Mm hmm.” She moved back into the sitting room with a plate of shortbread that looked store bought. “And who is your friend, Michael?”

“I didna say? This is Henrietta Anderson.”

Mum looked rapt. “Henrietta, now that’s a name you dunna hear overmuch.”

Henri gave Mike a look before she regarded Mum with a warm smile. “That’s right, it is an unusual name. Can I help you pour the tea?”

A bewildered look spread across Mum’s face. “Tea?”

Mike gestured to the kitchen. “That would be lovely, thanks.” He waited until Henri moved to the hob before he took his mother’s hands between his palms. “Is Mrs. Crabtree still coming around twice a day?”

“Och that woman practically lives here.”

“But she takes good care of you.”

Mum pursed her lips. “I suppose.”

“You’re looking bonny.” Changing the subject, he squeezed his mother’s hands and smiled.

“Thank you.”

The afternoon proceeded as smoothly as possible. Henri was gracious, and as soon as she’d realized Mum was more than a little forgetful, she jumped in and helped with everything. They enjoyed a pleasant cup of tea with shortbread and then bid her goodbye.

Neither one said a word as Mike drove the car up through the A82 to the picturesque Falls of Glencoe where they stopped for a walk. He held her hand as they climbed the slope to his favorite lookout where he could see through the majestic mountains clear down to Loch Leven.

“It’s beautiful up here,” said Henri, stopping to pan her gaze across the grandeur of the Coe—majestic mountains, trickling burns and lush summer grasses peeking through purple heather. “So green.”

He slid his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “Aye. I feel like I’m on top of the world every time I traverse these hills.”

“Your mother is sweet.”

He was wondering when Henri would say something. Mike had taken her to the cottage because he wanted her to know his deepest secrets—things he didn’t mention to anyone. “She has a form of early-onset Alzheimer’s. It’s horrible to watch.”

“I’m sorry. It’s an awful disease.”

He nodded then took Henri’s hand and pressed it over his heart. “I’ve never taken a lass to see Mum afore.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I havena ever been in love with someone enough to do it. You ken? To let anyone meet my Mum—to see the way she is now.”

“Because you’re embarrassed?”

“No’ so much that, but it’s personal. No one else’s business.” He squeezed her fingers. “It’s family stuff.”

Henri’s breath caught. “But you don’t mind that I know?”

“I wanted you to know.”

“I’m glad. You already know my family is pretty messed up—I mean, I don’t even have a mother to introduce you to.”

“True.” He pulled her into his arms. Closing his eyes, his heart swelled. Finally, he’d found his soul mate. “What I’m trying to say is I love you. I love you so much, I want you to ken everything about me, the good and the bad.”

“You love me?” She gasped. “You...you do?”

“I do. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. It’s as if I’ve finally found someone hewn of the same cloth, and I never want to let go.”

“You mean that?”

“With all my heart, love.”

She sighed, her chocolaty eyes moist, her grin happier than he’d ever seen. “I can’t believe it. All my life I’ve been a misfit—no one has ever accepted me without wanting me to change into something I’m not. I mean...You really love me?”

“Aye, and I’ll say it again and again, ’cause I never want you to feel like a misfit again. You are perfect just the way you are.”

A tear slipped from her eye. “No one has ever showed me love the way you have. Not one soul. Not ever. Jesus, Mike, I love you, b-but I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I-I don’t know how to love somebody. What if I don’t love you enough? What if I fail?”

“Huh? You gave me the confidence to jump off a two-hundred-foot cliff. I never would have lived through that if it weren’t for your love. You know how to love more than you think. You have shown how much you care about me ten times over.”

She smiled. “I do care for you.”

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the velvet box containing the ring he’d purchased that day. “I ken we dunna have much time afore we have to go back to ICE, but before we do I need to ask one thing.” He dropped to one knee and took her left hand in his palm, his mouth growing dry. Hell, he was nervous, but through it all, his conviction was rock solid. “Henrietta Soaring-Eagle Anderson, will you marry me?”

Her mouth hung open and she stood motionless. She didn’t even blink.

“Henri?” He held up the ring.

“Yes? I mean, yes! Absolutely.” Another tear slipped from her eye as she held in a combination of laughter and crying while letting him slip the diamond solitaire over her finger. The breeze picked up her wild mane of gorgeous black hair, making her look like the goddess of the eagles. “Oh my, oh my. I can’t believe it. I never thought...”

“Believe it, lass.” Standing, he pulled her into his embrace. “You ken, you have more passion in your trigger finger than most women have in their whole bodies.”

She chuckled. “Only you would think of that analogy and that’s why I love you so much.”

“Now we need to break the news to Garth.”

Wiping away the tears, she gave him an excited cringe. “Do we have to?”

“Aye, lass. And better sooner than later.”

She reached in his pocket and pulled out his keys, giving him a wicked grin. “All right, but not before you let me drive the Porsche.”