Forevermore

Clues

 It's Saturday  morning. Amelia's due to arrive home this afternoon, and I'll hopefully get to see her tomorrow. Today, Emma and I are going ino the village with Mom to stop by the library. Mom wants to check out a gazillion baby books, and Emma and I want to look up more about Glenmorrag's history. It was Emma who had the idea - she thought I might have missed some important clue about Logan or the castle in my quick research last time, and I wonder if she's right.

 Logan stands with me outside the castle doors while I wait for Emma. Mom is getting ready inside. 

 "I'll go out and have a chat with Ian while you're gone," Logan is saying. "I've been neglecting the old guy lately." A slight grin curls up one corner of his mouth. "I canna fathom what's drawn my attention away so." 

 "Yeah whatever," I say, smiling and fighting down my blush. "You'd better say hi to Emma first, though."

 Logan grasps his heart, "Och, two bonny lasses after me. Whatever tae do?"

 "Your ego is getting out of control."

 Just then, Emma pulls up on her scooter and removes her helmet. Wild ginger curls spring every which way. 

 "I'll bet that's fun tae ride on," Logan says, staring at the scooter. He smiles. "Mornin', Emma."

 "Mornin', Logan." Emma says. She grins at me, proud of herself. "I think I'm getting used to seeing him."

 "Aye, well, you two lovely ladies enjoy the village," Logan says. With a slight bow, he disappears. 

 "Okay," Emma whispers. "I can't get used to that."

 "Listen," I tell her. "Amelia's coming back today. I can't wait to talk to her."

 "Aye." Emma's finished Enchanted Love as well, and we've compared our theories. Emma agrees that the story must match Amelia's life, fantastical as it seems. "If that book she wrote has as much a meanin' as we think, she may have the answer to all of this."

 Gosh, I hope so. 

 "Oh, hi, Emma," Mom says, coming out the door. She's looking very pretty in her bright pink hat, matching scarf, and dark coat. "You girls ready?" 

 "Hi, Lady M.," Emma says. "Love the hat."

 "Strap that seat belt on," I warn Emma as we get into the car. "Seriously. Ride of your life." 

 "That's not nice, Ivy," Mom says, laughing. 

 "But it's the total truth," I answer.

 With Em's eyes as wide as saucers at Mom's UK driving, we arrive at the village. It's gray out, the persistent slip of mist settling over the water. Several fishing boats are anchored in the bay, bobbing within the white hazy vapor. In the distance, something bongs a buoy, and it echoes off the stone buildings. 

 "Now that's just creepy," Mom says as we get out of the car, and I think, You don't know creepy, Mom. 

 Once inside the library, Mom enscones herself in the parenting section while Emma and I go straight to the local-history section. 

 "Here's something," Emma says, pulling a tome from the shelf. "Medieval Glenmorrag." She flips the book open and scans the pages. "Aye, this one's a keeper. Lots of stuff in here."

 We go through the short line of books on the village's history, find a couple more to check out, then head to the computer room. 

 "I don't even know what I'm looking for," I say, 'but maybe there's something on microfilm."