He’d been back in time for the New Year, just about, but the first couple of weeks back in Scotland had been a blur. Conall felt like he’d slept more in the last fortnight than anyone humanly could. Months of hiking across the Congo after Tebo herds did that to you, maybe.
But he was now well recovered from that trip, and dedicated again to his foremost excuse for ever coming back to stay in Irvingly, which was that his family was here. Eavan, always; but now Eavan and Beau and Nola, his delightful little granddaughter, who in six months was a different creature than she had been, already more of a person, not to mention twice the size he remembered.
Next time he wouldn’t stay away so long. Not that he had plans to set off again on any far-off studies, not until he was back in proper shape. (He had neglected to mention the still-festering bullet wound on his leg in his sparse letters while he’d been away, and certainly hadn’t said anything since being back, either.)
No, because he was here to hear about Eva and about everything he had missed, which was why he’d stopped by at the zoo at the end of her shift there, for a tour; and, if he walked her home, he would have another excuse to spend time with Nola, too. Fine, fine, and Miller, too. (But mostly Nola.) “You’ve not been working too hard here, though?” Conall put in, eyes narrowed, after he had asked all his (– equally important –) questions about the feathered residents of her aviary.
But he was now well recovered from that trip, and dedicated again to his foremost excuse for ever coming back to stay in Irvingly, which was that his family was here. Eavan, always; but now Eavan and Beau and Nola, his delightful little granddaughter, who in six months was a different creature than she had been, already more of a person, not to mention twice the size he remembered.
Next time he wouldn’t stay away so long. Not that he had plans to set off again on any far-off studies, not until he was back in proper shape. (He had neglected to mention the still-festering bullet wound on his leg in his sparse letters while he’d been away, and certainly hadn’t said anything since being back, either.)
No, because he was here to hear about Eva and about everything he had missed, which was why he’d stopped by at the zoo at the end of her shift there, for a tour; and, if he walked her home, he would have another excuse to spend time with Nola, too. Fine, fine, and Miller, too. (But mostly Nola.) “You’ve not been working too hard here, though?” Conall put in, eyes narrowed, after he had asked all his (– equally important –) questions about the feathered residents of her aviary.