The Trouble with Scotland (11 page)

Coll appeared in front of him. “What will ye have?”

“A dram.” Just a little something to take the edge off. But before Coll could put a glass on the counter and fill it, Ross changed his mind. “Give me an Irn-Bru to go instead.” He wouldn't sit here and drink alone. He'd take his soft drink and have a visit with Duncan . . . at the cemetery.

Can in hand, Ross headed up to the top of the bluff. He loved all the seasons in Gandiegow, but the summer weather made it an easier hike to the top to visit his old friend. And his father. And countless others who had died. Right after Duncan's death Ross had made the trip several times a week, bringing a bottle of something stronger than what he had now to share with his friend, at least in spirit.

He must've been caught up in his thoughts, because it wasn't until he'd nearly reached Duncan's grave that he noticed another person in the cemetery.

Brodie Wallace, paying his respects in front of his cousin Joe's tombstone.
Brodie and Joe had always been close, but an odd pair—Joe outgoing as they come, Brodie quiet as the bluff. When Brodie hadn't come back for Joe's funeral, the whole town had gossiped about it, judging Brodie harshly for making Abraham bury his grandson alone, even though Joe's widow was with him at the graveside. But Ross always thought Brodie must've had his reasons. Good men always did, and didn't need to broadcast an explanation to anyone.

Ross glanced at Joe's tombstone. Poor bastard. Too young to die. He'd been in a horrific car accident in America. Ross was glad Brodie was back to take over Abraham's fishing business.

Brodie looked up and nodded as he came up beside him. “Ross.”

“Brodie.” It didn't feel right to leave straightaway, so Ross added, “I just heard ye were back.”

“Aye. For a while, it seems.”

“Abraham can use a hand. He wouldn't take help from the rest of us.”

“Aye. Stubborn.”

The wind picked up. They stood there a while longer, neither of them talking.

Finally, Brodie stepped away. “'Night.”

Ross nodded and moved on to Duncan's tombstone, sipping his soda.

The evening was calm, but there was a storm brewing inside of Ross. What was he going to do about Sadie? Since she'd arrived in town, she'd turned things upside down for him. He was no longer thinking about his future and what he wanted to do, but was occupied with taking
care of her. What did that say about him? And why in the hell had he let himself become so involved with a woman from the States?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Answers came to him along the breeze, lifting his spirits. He had promised to help Sadie stay away from Quilting Central, and in his own way, he'd kept that promise, plus had also begun to help her by easing her back into Quilting Central's bosom with the library. But Sadie's offer to help him find a woman should be reciprocated in kind. He had no delusions of finding her a man while she was here in Scotland, but he could at least prepare her for when she got home.
But do I really want to ready her to be with another man?
He ignored that question. Yes, with a little coaching and practice, he felt Sadie could be the perfect catch.

And being a fisherman, he wondered who would reel her in. All the men he knew flashed through his mind, not one of them right for Sadie. It would take a special kind of man to appreciate her for who she was, to see past her kidney disease. And her meddling brother, Oliver. Aye, Ross would put his mind to it, feeling sure if he did, he could find the right man for Sadie Middleton.

*   *   *

Sadie woke early, still thoroughly embarrassed about last night. She hated that she'd put Ross in such an awkward position. She wondered now if he would even take her to Glasgow with him. Well, if he did show up, she would make sure not to do that to him again. He was her friend and she couldn't ask for more.

She wrapped her robe around herself and readied for the day while the rest of the dorm slept on.

Packing for the trip into Glasgow, she felt strangely nervous about meeting Ross's mother, but didn't know why. Maybe she was only excited because, she, Ross, and Dand were off on an adventure, as Emma had called it.

As Sadie wheeled her bag into the living room, Ross and his energetic nephew arrived.

“Are ye ready, lass?” Ross smiled at her, no trace of the awkwardness that she'd feared.

And because she had no control over her own reactions, her stomach squeezed in delight at the sight of him. She tried not to grin back. “Yes.”

Dand ran up and grabbed her bag. “First Mate said I should be a gentleman and get yere bag for ye.” He grinned and she saw that he was missing a bottom front tooth. He smiled even bigger when he saw her realization. “The Skipper knocked it out last night when he got me in a half nelson. Mum said that tooth should've come out a long time ago and that Uncle Ramsay saved us a trip to the dentist in Inverness.” He pulled back his lip so she could see the gaping hole. “Ye should've seen all the bluid.”

Sadie laughed. “Yes, you certainly have quite a hole there.” She'd never met a cuter kid. “Why do you call your Uncle Ramsay ‘Skipper'?”

Dand spoke over his shoulder as he wheeled her bag out the door. “Because he runs his own boat. He can't be Captain because Da is the only captain.”

“And you're First Mate?” she asked.

“Aye.” Ross smiled, but there was something behind it. “It's a long story. I'll tell ye on the way to Glasgow.”

But as soon as they were settled in the truck, Dand began a loud, animated story about the horses he'd seen
at Spalding Farm that lasted for the next hour as they drove through the beautiful wilderness of the Highlands.

Suddenly, the truck became silent. Dand's warm body leaned up against her.

Ross nodded. “He talked himself out.”

Sadie glanced down at the child between them and smiled.

Instead of Ross telling the story of Ramsay and his boat, he quietly told her some of the ideas he'd been entertaining as a second career, like using his truck for a hauling business.

“But nothing feels right,” he said. “There has to be something out there for me to do.”

“You'll know when it comes along. It'll feel perfect,” she assured him.

A contented silence settled over them. The gentle hum of the engine, the sun shining through the window, the child sleeping next to her, and Ross confident at the wheel . . . all had a hypnotic effect on her. Sadie relaxed as though into a warm bath. She closed her eyes for only a moment and woke when Ross shut off the truck outside a cute whitewashed stone cottage with two dormer windows peeking out on the second floor.

Her driver glanced over at her, nudging Dand at the same time. “Hey, sleepyheads, we're here. Are ye ready to see yere gran and auntie?”

Dand started to clamber over Sadie to get out but Ross put a hand on the boy, stilling him. “Remember now, Aunt Glynnis isn't well. We'll not be loud in the house. Understand?”

“Ah, Uncle Ross. Mum and Da already said for me to behave.”

“Quiet and behaving are two different things.” Ross looked as if he didn't believe the boy could do either. “I need both from ye, Dand. Or else yere mum won't let me take you on yere own again.”

Nice threat.

Sadie opened her door and Dand scrambled out past her. She started to slip from the truck, her stomach a mess of nerves, when Ross grabbed her hand. “And you, lass, ye better remember to keep it down in the house. Ye're such a hell-raiser.”

She was grateful for his teasing and smiled back.

Ross grabbed their bags from the bed of the truck. By the time they made it to the door, Ross's mother was outside hugging Dand.

“Who is this grown man? What have ye done with my wee grandson?”

“Ah, Nan, ye saw me last month.”

She hugged him again. “But ye've grown.” She tugged at Dand's bag. “Did ye stick baby Irene in your knapsack so I can see her, too?”

Dand giggled, shaking his head no. “But I packed a load of books for me and Sadie to read!”

Ross's mother looked past Dand and smiled at her son; then her gaze fell on Sadie. Her eyes lit up and she pulled Sadie in for a hug as well. “Welcome, Sadie. Ross told me about ye. We're happy ye're here. I'm Grace.” She let go.

Sadie was shocked at being hugged so warmly. “Nice to meet you.”

There was such a kindheartedness in Grace that Sadie couldn't help but like her instantly. She was tall, as Sadie would expect of the mother of the strapping Armstrong brothers. At first Sadie thought Grace and Ross shared the same nose, but there were differences. Grace's nose was hawk-like in an elegant way. Her motherly manner immediately put Sadie at ease, making her feel more comfortable than she had back in Gandiegow.

Grace held the door wide for her, but she didn't let Ross in so readily, instead pulling him in for a long hug. “I've missed ye. Verra much.”

“Ah, Mum,” Ross said, sounding much like Dand. “I haven't been here two seconds and ye're already laying on the guilt.”

Sadie didn't think it was guilt at all.

Grace squeezed him harder. “It's been near half a year since I've seen ye. Since I was back for Pippa's wedding.”

Maybe Ross does know his mother.

“I'm a busy man.” He said nothing about Pippa or the wedding. “But I'm here now. Can ye let it go?”

“Come in then. Glynnis is resting.” Grace turned to Sadie. “That's my sister.”

“They're twins,” Dand added. But then he stopped short. “They don't look alike anymore.”

“Because ye're great-auntie has been sick,” Grace supplied, smiling gently at Dand. “I'll get the kettle on. Ye made great time, aye?”

Ross stopped his mother with a hand to her arm. “If it's all the same to you, Mum, Sadie and I are going to pass. She wants to get straight to the shopping.”

Grace shrugged, taking the news well. “Settle in and
then get going. Dand and I are going to have a bite to eat. Will ye have something before ye go?”

Ross looked to Sadie as if she'd said something. “Nay. Sadie wanted to check out the pub.”

Grace laughed. “I can see she's a demanding lass.”

And Sadie had barely said hello.

Ross put his hand to her back. “I'll show you to yere room first.”

As he guided her to the stairs, his hand unnerved her, heated her up and made her tingle. She stepped away, but tripped on the hall rug. He caught her around the waist and pulled her back into his chest, making everything worse.

“Whoa. Are ye all right?” His breath was on her neck.

She sagged, afraid she might faint . . . dead away.
Then he could scoop me into his arms and carry me upstairs like a Scottish Rhett Butler to my Scarlett O'Hara.

Good lands! Her imagination was on overdrive. Sadie should check herself into the Only-in-Your-Dreams Ward
.

She moved away from him. Quickly. “I'm fine.” She held on to the banister, concentrating as she climbed the stairs rapidly, making sure to firmly plant one foot in front of the other.

But when she reached the top, she realized she didn't know which room was hers. The bungalow was small, but there were four doors to choose from.

Ross took the stairs at a normal pace, making her feel even more self-conscious. She was a rational person. Why, then, did she feel so shaken up by the touch of Ross's breath on her neck? She shivered.

When he joined her at the top, he pointed. “In there.”

She turned the handle and spoke over her shoulder quietly. “Thanks.” She started to escape into the room, alone, but Ross blocked the door with his hand.

He put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Let me in for a minute.” He didn't wait for her consent, but stepped in and shut the door behind him. “I want to talk to you about what we're going to do this afternoon.”

She froze like a rabbit. Except she wasn't scared of him. She was terrified of where her logical brain had landed and of the images popping up.

“What's wrong?” He gazed at her for a long moment, like he had done last night. But this time, he wasn't running away.

She should answer him, but she couldn't tell him the truth. She hated to admit it even to herself. She was seriously attracted to him, which was utterly ridiculous. Nothing could come of it beyond sitting up late at night, mooning over him, like she'd done last night. What had she been thinking when she'd agreed to come to Glasgow with him in the first place?

The bedroom was small and he took up most of it with his all-male presence. She had to answer him, but what could she say?

He cleared his throat and looked away, staring past her shoulder. “I'll give ye a minute.” He might as well have said what was really on his mind . . .
I'll give ye a minute to pull yereself together.

She would need more than a minute. She'd need a lifetime.

He spun around and left the room.

She exhaled.

Then collapsed on the small bed, her wound-tight nerves unraveling like thread from a spool.

Ross was no dummy. She'd gone completely mental, and he knew it. Was this just another one of the stages of grief . . .
falling for a Highlander
?

Well, she better take the next few minutes to get a grip, because they were headed out to shop for books. She glanced in the small mirror on the wall. She was still plain Sadie, but she took a moment to primp her short brown hair anyway. And for fun, she applied some berry-colored lipstick.

Bravely, she opened the door and went in search of Ross. Downstairs, tucked at the back of the house, she found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Dand and Grace were at the dinette table, the three of them chatting quietly.

Grace looked up. “There ye are.” She gave Sadie a brilliant smile. “Ye know, ye're the first lass Ross has brought home for me to meet.”