Robb did a bit of a mental jump when his named was called. He should have been expecting it, but he'd gotten quickly engrossed in watching the little turtle paddle its way around the vegetation-rich water. The sight had mentally catapulted him back thousands of miles and more than half a lifetime. To those long-ago days of wading along the shoreline as a very young child, searching for pretty shells, scuttling crabs and periwinkle snails to fill his bucket.
"Hullo!" Grinning, Robb clasped the proffered hand and gave it a light, friendly squeeze. "Great to finally meet you, Abby Maitland," he greeted with all his usual bouncy, boyish enthusiasm.
Such a wee thing she was; barely bigger than a minute, and he suddenly felt oversized and hulking and quite the ruddy big Scot in her presence. A flaxen-haired fairy sprite of a girl that just needed gossamer wings and a wand to complete the look.
"And please, call me Robb." His grin grew wider, more impish, when he corrected her with an absent wave. "Mr. McLellan sounds too much like my father..."