She saw a young couple, strolling along, hand in hand, and thought hotel guests, maybe honeymooners. Tourists, taking advantage of a dry day and patchy sunlight. She’d be a guest of the hotel for a few more days, but no longer qualified as a tourist. She was an expat. It sounded strange and glamorous even if she smelled of horses, and maybe just a slight whiff of manure. But as she was already a little late, she didn’t want to take the time to go back to her room, shower, and change. She’d have to work out some sort of loose schedule, she thought, which included that visit to the falconry school and a trip to Cong. Maybe she could work the visit into her break tomorrow, assuming she had one. If Connor was up for it, she’d buy him that pint in the village after her lesson with Branna, maybe have dinner. And she could hardly wait to email Nan, tell her about the job, about her day, about whatever she learned from Branna.
