Free Finding Fraser by kc dyer Page B

clutched in one hand. “Jes’ gi’ us a call if ye need transport
anywhere, mind. As I tole’ ye, mah youngest son’s got a Triumph he’s fair proud
of, and he hires himself out all the time ta tourists in the season who need
tae get to the golf links hereabouts.”
    “Thank you, Mr. MacLeod. I’ll remember
that.”
    He reached a hand up to grasp the seat back,
and groaned as he hauled himself to his feet, but the pretty much tooth-free
smile never left his face. “Ach, it’s just Al, lassie, or Alan if yer feelin’
formal. Call anytime, love.”
    And with that, he stumped off up the aisle
of the bus to the front door. I glanced down at the card in my hand. Alec MacLeod , it said. Hired Car Service, Inverness-shire. Taxi,
weddings, evenings out. No trip too small!
    Could Alan’s taxi-driving son be another
possible Jamie? I tucked the card into my pack and followed him off the bus.

 

 
    Further Fieldwork…
    5:00 pm, February 27
    Inverness, Scotland

 
    Arrived safely in Inverness.
    The trip was much less eventful than
earlier bus journeys, thankfully. I had a very informative seatmate who ensured
I will never confuse Jacobians with followers of anyone but King James again! Perhaps
the history lesson has cured me of my fear of traveling? I think it more likely
that now I am here, in beautiful wintery Scotland, my sense of adventure has
stepped back into the lead.
    Thanks to all who wrote such kind
comments about my time in Edinburgh. Many of you are worried I met and lost my
Jamie Fraser on the first day in Scotland, and that I will quit trying. I want
to set your minds at ease.
    First of all, the man I met was blonder
than Jamie. He might have been roughly the same size, and was quite kind and
friendly——but——but, he’s gone, okay? He’s too blonde
and he’s gone and I have no idea where he lives. Think of him as a practice
Jamie. I’m moving on, and I hope you’ll do the same.
    For now, I turn my attention to
Inverness, the land of Frank and Claire’s second honeymoon. The true beginning
point of Claire’s story. A chance for me to find the stones she walked through.
    I promise to report in!

 
    - ES

 
    Comments: 15
    MagischeSteinkraus, Berlin, Deutchland:
    Sounds like a good German boy. Hier finden Sie ein weiteres Jamie!

 
    HiHoKitty, Sapporo, Japan:
    Did false-Jamie wear kilt, Miss Emma? How
you find REAL Jamie?

 
    KnittersNotQuitters, Corner Brook,
NL&L, Canada:
    Huge Claire and Jamie fans here in the wilds
of Newfoundland. Hoping you find your boy, and knitting up a special scarf in
honour of your journey!

 
    SophiaSheridan, Chicago, USA:
    I just want you to know that, of all the
humiliations you have foisted on this family, this is the greatest. I only hope
and pray our parents stay ignorant of this little experiment until it dies a
righteous and terrible death.
    (Read 11 more comments here … )

 
    I
tried to ignore Sophia’s comment and focus on all the others cheering me on. But it was hard. Mostly because she was right. This was an exercise
in public humiliation, no doubt. But it was far less painful than Internet
dating had been. There, I’d even had to put a picture of myself online, and
answer hideously embarrassing questions for the whole world to see. The whole
dating world, anyway. In the end, all I got out of it was a husband who lasted
just over a year—two, if you count the cyber-courtship period.
    But it got me thinking. Until then, I’d
thought of my blog as little more than an online diary of an adventure. Reading
all the comments, though… HiHoKitty was certainly taking me seriously. And from
what I’d learned from Genesie, nothing could be more serious to a knitter than
designing a pattern.
    It kinda blew my mind. If the blog was
giving inspiration to others to go out and follow their dreams too—what
could be the harm in that? Maybe it was time I started to take it more
seriously.
    So I pushed Sophia’s voice to the back of my
head and spent