The Trouble with Scotland (19 page)

“Would you like to come with me?” Emma said.

“To Graham Buchanan's house?” Sadie automatically turned to Deydie. The old woman would probably bite her head off for leaving before the job was done. But Quilting Central was filling up and getting louder by the second. “Sure,” Sadie said. Besides, when else would she have a chance to peek inside a bona fide movie star's house? She closed the lid to the laptop, glancing around.

“Leave it there. It'll be fine. No one will bother it.”

Sadie stood and followed Emma out, all the while proud of herself for not checking to see if Ross was watching her go.

*   *   *

Deydie didn't miss the look on Ross's face as he watched Sadie leave. “Damn.”

“What's wrong?” Bethia asked.

“It's Ross. That lad is acting as if he might be smitten with the American lass.” Deydie shoved her hands in her dress pockets. “I specifically told him to stay away from her.”

Bethia got that look on her face, the one she wore when a lecture was on its way. Deydie had seen that look her whole life from her best friend and she was damned tired of it.

Bethia slipped her arm in hers and pulled her away from the others. “Maybe we should leave Ross alone and let him make up his own mind this time. Wasn't trying to marry him off to Pippa interference enough?”

Aye. They'd gotten in a little over their heads then. “But this is different. The lass isn't well. Life in Gandiegow is no summer picnic. It takes a special kind of woman to survive here on the northeast coast of Scotland.”

Bethia nodded her head. “But we're not going to interfere this time.”

Deydie glowered at her before turning back to Ross. She was definitely going to have to do something. First, she'd make sure Sadie was kept busy around the clock, and she would have to tell Kit to step up her efforts to find Ross a
suitable
mate. Deydie glanced around at all of her quilt ladies. They were a force to be reckoned with when they all put their minds to it. Perhaps if Ross wouldn't listen to reason, Deydie would just have to enlist the whole quilting circle.

A
s Sadie strolled along the walkway with Emma, she gazed out at the ocean. Later today, she would sit on one of the little benches outside of Quilting Central and work on what Deydie called her “lesson plan.” How had she got wrangled into teaching a quilting class?

Emma nodded toward the Armstrongs' cottage. “Maggie mentioned that you've been reading to Dand.”

“It's a pleasure. He's so energetic and inquisitive.”

“Maggie said it's made a huge difference. Did she tell you that before you started reading to Dand he wasn't interested in books at all? You've turned things around for him.”

Sadie smiled. “Really?” She'd actually made a difference with a few picture books? “Well, I've enjoyed every second. He loves stories.”

She remembered vividly when the reading bug took hold of her. Her parents used to read to her before bed, making it her favorite time of day. After the evening they went out and didn't return, Oliver took over the responsibility of reading to her, as if he'd been handed the baton. He was only ten, but he never missed a night—
until, of course, she was old enough to want to keep her reading selections to herself. Her hard feelings toward him lessened a fraction. Because he bullied her so often, she tended to forget what a good brother he could be, too.

Emma pointed to the path behind Deydie's cottage. “This leads up to the big house.” She continued on with the previous thread. “You have earned points with Maggie. And the rest of the town, I suspect.”

The steep path led to what looked like a new castle built next to a ruin. When Cait answered their knock, a cute little sheltie ran out.

“Dingus! Come back here,” Cait shouted, laughing. The dog circled the yard and ran back in the house.

As Cait showed them around, Sadie kept a lookout for Graham, hoping for a glimpse of the famous actor.

Cait touched her arm. “My husband's away on a publicity junket.”

Sadie's cheeks burned.

Emma laughed. “You might be jumping to conclusions, Cait. Maybe Sadie was looking for Mattie.”

“Sorry,” Sadie said. “I was just curious.”

Cait smiled. “Graham will be back for the wedding. You can meet him then.”

Sadie's hopes fell. She would be gone before Moira and Andrew's nuptials.

Emma stopped short and stared at Sadie. “I just had a brilliant idea. Cait, did Maggie tell you about Sadie reading to Dand?”

Cait laughed. “Are you kidding? She can't stop talking about it. She's so grateful.”

Emma touched Sadie and Cait, as if linking them. “What if Sadie gets the boys together a few days a week and reads to both of them?”

“Why together?” Sadie asked.

“I'll explain,” the therapist said. “I've been trying to come up with new ways to help Mattie feel more comfortable speaking.”

But didn't they understand that she was going home soon? Not tomorrow, apparently. But in the very near future. “What do I need to do?”

“You could start a reading club for Dand and Mattie. Begin by reading
to
them. Then suggest that each one of you take a page to read aloud. Eventually, have the boys take turns. I want Mattie to get used to hearing his own voice again. It might be easier if he was reading and telling a story.”

Cait clasped their hands, completing the circle. “Emma, ye're brilliant. This sounds wonderful. You don't mind, do you, Sadie? It would be such a blessing to have yere help.”

“Of course, I'll do it.” She sighed. “But I'm not here for that long.”

“Whatever time you can give us will be appreciated.” Cait hugged them.

Emma laughed. “This has been a productive outing. I better grab the notebook for Deydie. I have to get home and relieve Gabriel from baby duty.”

“Sadie, would you like to stay for a cup of tea?”

“I'd love to but I'm sure Deydie is wondering why I abandoned my post. Did you hear about the library at Quilting Central?”

“Aye. What a grand idea. Ross did well thinking it up. Who knew that he cared about the Kilts and Quilts retreat so much?”

“Ross?”

“Yes.” But then Cait faltered. “Oh, um, maybe it was someone else who came up with the idea. Yes. It had to be someone else.”

Always the therapist, Emma looked concerned. “What's wrong, Sadie?”

“I'm fine,” she answered. Why would Ross pretend the library was Oliver's idea? “Thanks again for the invitation. I better get back, though.”

“Yes. I have to run as well.”

She and Emma left, and hurried back down the bluff.

A few minutes to one, Sadie made her way to the doctor's quarters, bypassing the doctor's office downstairs and heading up the steps as instructed. She knocked quietly on the door to the flat for Angus's sake, and Gabriel opened it.

“Thanks for doing this, Sadie.” He showed her around, pointing out Angus's room, the kitchen, and the pantry in case she became hungry. He pulled a list from a magnet on the refrigerator and handed it to her. “Emma has written out a schedule. We're heading into Inverness to look for her dress and then out to dinner. I hope it's okay with you that we'll be gone that long. I tried to get Emma to agree to an overnight in the big city, but she won't be separated just yet from her bairn.”

“Mothers always know best,” Sadie said. If she were going to be here longer, she would've gladly offered to watch Angus overnight as soon as Emma was ready.
She'd done it many a time as a babysitter. It was fun to play house in someone else's home.

Emma rushed into the room. “I'm ready. Did you give her the list?”

“She's all set,” Gabriel assured her. “She has my mobile number. Everything will be fine.”

“Right.” Emma picked up her purse. “Call if you need anything. No matter how small.”

“Angus and I will have a great time.”

After a few more worried looks, Emma left with her husband.

After Sadie checked Angus to make sure he was asleep, she settled herself on the sofa with her notebook and the hand-drawn picture of the quilt she was supposed to teach. But as soon as she began to write the first instruction, she heard the downstairs door open and close. Her first thought was that Emma and Doc had forgotten something. But she heard only one pair of footsteps on the stairs. Then there was a light rap at the door.

She jumped up to answer it. Ross stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Can I come in?” he said quietly.

“It depends,” she said.

He looked startled. “Depends on what?”

“Whether or not you'll tell me the truth.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

She stood back and let him in.

“May I sit?”

She grabbed her notebook from the sofa, the only seating in the small living area. He sat down, seeming to take up most of the space in the room. She sat on the opposite corner, as far from him as possible.

Ross pinned her with his blue eyes. “Out with it, lass. The way ye're frowning, ye're looking more like Deydie every second. What's on yere mind?”

“Why did you say Quilting Central's library was Oliver's idea when it really was yours?”

The question took him off guard; she could see the surprise on his face. But he recovered in Ross style—quick, intelligent.

He shrugged. “I never said it was yere brother's idea. If I did anything it was to
not
correct you when ye said it was.”

Is that what happened?
He was confusing her.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

That question seemed to stump him, too. “I thought ye could use some company?”

“Are you sure? Because you don't seem convinced.”

He paused for a long second, then sighed. “The truth?”

“It's what we agreed upon, remember?”

He shook his head. “Can I hide out here for a while, lass?”

“Why?”

“Harry's niece.”

“Oh. Is she gunning for you?”

“Aye. Both barrels. And it seems the quilting ladies are egging her on, too. Will ye let me seek sanctuary?”

“What are you going to do after I'm done babysitting? The retreat isn't over until tomorrow.”

Ross glanced about as if sizing up the place. “Maybe Doc and Emma would let me share a room with Angus.”

Sadie laughed in spite of herself. “If I let you stay, what do I get in return?”

His eyes dropped to her lips. Or at least she imagined they did. But she couldn't trust her crazy eyes when it came to him.

“I know,” she said. “You can have dirty diaper duty.”

He didn't even balk. “Seems fair.”

“Is Harry's niece all that bad?” Sadie wondered if the niece was as plain as she was, or maybe she had some abnormality.

“Nay. She's actually very attractive.”

Envy pricked her.

He began listing her attributes. “She's a tall lass with golden locks. Her voice sounds like an angel. And she has a body that rivals that of Scarlett Johansson.”

Sadie hadn't met Harry's niece, but she despised her. At the same time, Sadie had promised to help Ross with his love life. “If she's so dazzling, you should go out with her.”

He shook his head. “She's not for me. Not my type.”

“What is your type, then?” If she was going to help pick someone out, she needed to hear it straight from the fisherman's mouth.

“A lass who's looking for a good time and doesn't want to settle down.” He glanced away. “Plus, a man needs to feel like he's the one doing the pursuing. She chased me down the walkway earlier and I had to hop on Brodie's boat to make an escape.”

Sadie rolled her eyes. “Why can't women do the chasing every once in a while?”

“Because a man has to be the man.”

“That kind of thinking went out of style the same time your truck was built.”

He shrugged. “Then call me old-fashioned. I'm clear about what I want, and
don't
want. And I don't like desperate women.”

Sadie was feeling uncomfortable. Underneath it all, she might be feeling a little desperate.
Desperate to kiss Ross again
. She wondered if he would kiss her while he was here. That thought had hung at the back of her mind since the moment she opened the door to him. She sighed, exasperated with herself. How did they ever get on this subject anyway?

He turned back to her. “What are we going to do with our time?”

She gazed at his mouth, wondering if he had any idea how she'd like to spend the next several hours in a clinch with him. Instead, she picked up her notebook and held it to her chest. “I don't know what you're going to do, but I have a lesson plan to create for teaching my quilt block.”
Mine and Gigi's.
She squeezed the notebook tighter.

For her own good, she redirected the conversation. “And you're not completely off the hook for the whole library at Quilting Central debacle.”

“Debacle?”

“You know what I mean. You had no right to manipulate me.”

He laid a hand over his heart, as sincere as if pledging allegiance. “I only meant to help. I'm sorry I wasn't clearer about my part in it.” He paused, then dropped his hand, turning serious. “I promise to never do anything to hurt you,
Sadie-lass
.”

Her heart melted. “Okay. You're forgiven. Now stop looking at me like that.”

“Have ye eaten?” he asked. “I missed lunch, hiding.”

“I'm not hungry.” Her stomach was a mass of unsettledness. Too many butterflies and no room for food.

He pulled out his phone.

“What are you doing?” she said.

“Placing an order at Pastas and Pastries.”

“What about Harry's niece? You're going to chance running into her for the sake of some chicken Marsala and breadsticks?”

“Delivery.”

But that gave Sadie something else to worry about. “Aren't you concerned about being seen here? News travels fast in a small town.”

“Not if you trust the delivery man to keep his mouth shut.”

*   *   *

Aye
. Ross trusted his brother Ramsay, but he also wanted to drive home a point. He could choose who he wanted to spend time with, and he didn't need Ramsay's wife Kit to do the choosing for him.

Ross had tried to talk to Ramsay about his wife, but his brother only laughed . . .
like I have any control over what the lass does.
That may be true, but Ross felt pretty sure that if Kit brought up matchmaking Ross, Ramsay would let her know that he'd seen him alone with Sadie a
second time
. Seeing was believing.

Ross knew he was using Sadie to call off the dogs—the busybodies of Gandiegow. Should he come clean with her? Especially after promising to give her the truth? But he'd also promised to never hurt her. In most cases it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
But Sadie isn't most cases
.

He put his phone back in his pocket before dialing.

“I thought you were going to order food,” she said.

“In a minute.” He patted the seat beside him. “Come sit closer. I need to ask ye something.”

She perched on the edge of the sofa. “So serious. What's up?”

“I really am famished,” he started, “but there's also more to it.” He confessed how he hoped if Ramsay saw them together again that it would help keep Kit at bay.

She shrugged. “If you're asking whether it's okay that you use me, I did say I wanted to help.”

He reached out a hand to her, wanting to pull her in for a hug. But he stopped himself just in time. “Ye've got a good heart, Sadie Middleton. Ye're a good friend.”

“Yes. A good friend.” She rose and chose a place by the hearth, staring into the empty grate.

“Can I help with yere lesson planning?”