Orla shoved her shoulders back and turned, presenting a tray of perfectly cooked shortbread biscuits to the room.
I released a sigh of relief.
“Those are lovely, Orla. Well done,” I said, needing to fill the silence.
“It’s the wrong biscuits,” Lia hissed and I blinked at her.
“These are biscuits,” Orla said, plopping the tray down on the table, her expression mutinous.
“Those are shortbread cookies.” Sophie jabbed a finger in the direction of the table. “Biscuits are?—”
“These?” Matthew strode forward and uncovered a dish full of what looked to be scones.
“Yes, these!” Sophie crowed and clapped her hands. Leaning up, she kissed Matthew’s cheek and pointed for him to place his dish on the table with the dinner food. Scooping up Orla’s biscuits, she gave her a look. “I’ll just be putting these on the dessert table.”
“You’re welcome,” Orla called loudly to Sophie’s retreating back.
“For what it’s worth, love, they’re damn good biscuits.” Finlay came forward and wrapped his arm around Orla’s shoulder.
“I thought they looked lovely,” I added.
“Nobody’s going to complain about extra shortbread, I can promise you that,” Archie barked from where he walked into the room carrying a massive turkey on a platter. “Out of my way, the lot of you. It’s time to carve the turkey.”
“I’ve never done a Thanksgiving meal before, but this all looks cracking, doesn’t it?” Torin said, and I glanced up at him, my heart still doing that funny little flutter in my chest whenever I looked at him.
“Aye, it does. Aside from the marshmallow on sweet potatoes. I’m not so sure about that.”
“I’ll try anything once.” Torin gave me a look that had heat curling through me. “Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?”
“Thank you,” I said, my cheeks heating at his compliment. I wore a plum-colored wrap dress with my gran’s brooch pinned at my shoulder. Two more opals had shown up after the battle, and I’d been told my challenges were complete. Sophie surmised that selflessly racing to Zara’s side in the Kelpie attack and showing a genuinely contrite heart with Torin regarding what the spell had cost him had earned me my opals. The brooch itself looked as though the opals had always been there, the Celtic dragons curling around the three stones as if they were their eggs, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there had been some link to my brooch and the dragon that had revealed itself from the shadowy depths of Loch Mirren.
“Have I told you how happy I am that you’re with someone who compliments you?” Zara asked from where she sat, Mitch at her side, waiting for instructions on food.
“And you look beautiful as well,” Torin added and Zara’s smile widened.
“No need to flatter me, Torin, I already gave Liora my approval for you.”
Zara had stayed with us for a week after her injuries were healed, and in that time, we’d come to a new agreement. She was going to be less critical of my choices, and I was going to be more understanding of why she’ll never stop worrying about me. It felt like we were stepping into a new stage of our relationship, as sisters who respected each other as adults. I guess staring down mythological beasts together would do that to a relationship.
“What’s this table?” Kaia asked and I turned from Torin, looking to where a long child’s-height table sat next to the big table.
“Honestly? I’m not sure,” I said, tilting my head at it.
“For all of our … extra friends,” Lia said, nodding as movement blurred past her and an array of dishes appeared on the short table. As if on cue, the door opened and in marched Gnorman, his arm tucked around Gnora’s waist, both looking dapper in their finest clothes. Behind them trailed a veritable parade of animals. Two hedgehogs waddled in, followed by a crow hopping along, with Gloam behind them. Bracken appeared, racing in circles around the herd of dogs, who were, admittedly, on their best behavior and didn’t give chase. Which was a miracle, considering Sir Buster was leading the pack and bristling with his usual barely contained rage.
Calvin, Willow’s cat, sauntered at the back of the pack, unconcerned with the dogs in his presence, seemingly in conversation with a Scottish terrier named Oban.
“Honestly, it’s incredible to see them all together,” Kaia murmured.
They all stopped in front of their spots, like a well-trained parade, and looked expectantly at Sophie for instructions.
“Right, that’s everyone here. Archie’s carving the turkey, the rest of you, grab a plate and line up. Brice, can you get the food for our wee friends please?” Sophie ordered, and we all fell in line, grabbing our plates and heaping food on them, even though some of the dishes made me raise my eyebrows.
“Don’t look at my sweet potatoes like that, Liora,” Agnes said, glaring across the table at me. Graham sat next to her, and he leaned a shoulder into hers, his lips quirking in a smile as he studied his plate.
“It’s just that marshmallows are a bit of a stretch for tatties, aren’t they, darling?”
Agnes huffed, stabbing a marshmallow with her fork. “I trusted Sophie. But honestly, I’ve no idea what I made. This just feels wrong.”