The Trouble with Scotland (29 page)

Oliver folded himself into the other kitchen chair. “Not going to happen.”

“I think ye've pushed yere sister around enough. Let her decide,” Ross said.

“You don't understand. Sadie has decided. She left for home.”

Ross hadn't heard right. “What do ye mean?”

“She texted. She left two hours ago.”

But . . . Ross hadn't gotten to tell her—
she won
. He would give up his freedom.
For her.

Suddenly, it seemed ridiculous that he'd dragged his feet. Sadie was
the one
from the start. He couldn't breathe.

He dropped his head in his hands. “Oh,
gawd
. What did I do?”

Mum laid her hand on his shoulder. “It's not yere fault. Ye didn't know.”

“What's not his fault?” Oliver growled. “What did he do?”

“Go on and tell him,” Mum said.

Ross looked up into Oliver's harsh gaze. “Ye've got to tell me how to find her. Ye said she went home. Give me the address.”

“Why would I?” Oliver said. “You're the reason she ran off.”

“I'm begging ye.” Ross stood. “I—I love her.”

Oliver tilted his head to the side. Ross had seen him do this while considering a problem with the computers at Quilting Central.

Standing next to Oliver's chair, Kirsty put her arm around him. “Tell Ross what ye told me . . . about Sadie.”

Oliver looked into her face as if he was warring with himself. He didn't turn to Ross, but kept staring at Kirsty. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I've never seen Sadie so alive as when she's around him.” He turned to Ross and spoke to him this time. “She was never the same after our parents died. I thought a part of her had died with them. And then her diagnosis took another piece of her. And I thought I was going to lose her for good when Gigi died.” His voice cracked. He looked away, pulling himself together. “As a little girl, she had spirit. Joy. Around you, the old Sadie came back.”

That was the woman Ross knew. The woman Ross loved. Sadie was always running away. And he didn't mind, especially if she was running away
with him
. But he didn't like her running away from him. Not one damn bit.

Ross held out his hand. “The address, Oliver. I promise, I'll do anything and everything to make this right.”

T
he taxi driver set Sadie's luggage at her front door while she dug around in her Mondo bag for her wallet. She paid him, feeling more tired than she had in her whole life. Between getting little rest the night before she left Gandiegow and the eight-hour delay at Heathrow because of mechanical problems, she was completely spent. Sleep would help fix her physically, but it would have little effect on the ache in her chest.

She found her key and unlocked the door to their house.
No.
She would have to start thinking of it as
her
house. Only hers. Oliver was gone. Gigi was gone, too, but she was starting to accept it. Oliver's words were helping Sadie to heal. It really hadn't been her fault that Gigi died, only bad timing.

Sadie stepped inside and dropped her bag by the entry, expecting mail to be piled up on the other side of the door where the slot was. But there was none. Oliver must've placed a hold. She'd have to go to the post office tomorrow and take care of it. Everything was on her now. Paying the bills. Mowing the lawn. Upkeep on the house.
Everything.
She would adjust. It wasn't only the house.
She'd have to get used to dealing with her illness on her own, too.

It didn't matter. Not anymore.

Sadie dragged herself into the kitchen and took down a glass. She was going to miss Gandiegow—not just Ross, but Mr. Menzies, Moira, Emma, even the gray-haired ladies of Quilting Central. Maybe most of all, she was going to miss the kids. She would talk to her local library, or when school started in the fall, she'd see if she could read to the kids at the elementary school two blocks over. But those children wouldn't be Dand, Mattie, Glenna, or the other little ones from Gandiegow.

That's all right. Sadie was home now. She would start over, reinvent her life, something she'd been doing every day since finding out she had CKD.

As she filled her glass with water, she noticed the answering machine was blinking. Hope jolted through her. Had Ross called? No. That was the crazy type of thinking she was going to have to eradicate. And now that she was home, it should be easier because she wouldn't see him, day in and day out. Of course, she would see Ross again when she went back to Gandiegow for the wedding. She would have to be over him by then. At the very least, Ross could never know that she loved him. She prayed Oliver and Kirsty would have a long engagement to give her plenty of time to heal her broken heart.

She hit the button on the answering machine.

“Oliver?” It wasn't Ross. “This is Dr. Templeton.” Sadie's nephrologist? Why was she asking for her brother? “I called as soon as the results came in. It's good news. The crossmatch came back. You're cleared as Sadie's donor.”

She stared at the answering machine. “What?”

“Call me when you get this message.” The recording ended.

Sadie hit
REWIND
and listened again. She couldn't believe it. She didn't even know that he'd been tested. Dr. Templeton had talked to her about looking in the family for a donor, but she'd never found the right moment to broach it with Oliver. She figured she had time.

Sadie's mouth was dry and she gulped her glass of water. “Oliver did this for me?” She loved her brother, even when he was bossing her to death. But now, her heart swelled that he would be willing to make this kind of sacrifice for her.

The doorbell chimed. She stayed rooted to her spot, not in the mood to deal with a solicitor right now. Or anyone else, for that matter. The doorbell rang out again. And again.

“Oh, good grief.” She went to the door and slung it open, primed to tell whoever it was to go away.

But she couldn't. She was too shocked. Ross stood there with his duffel bag, the same one he'd brought to Thistle Glen Lodge when he'd lied about the measles.

“Will ye let me in, lass?”

She opened her mouth, but her words came out in a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“Ye forgot something in Gandiegow.”

“What?” She could barely breathe.

“Me. Ye forgot me.” He walked in, but before he passed, he kissed her on the cheek.

She almost missed his next words, because she was still inhaling his pheromones. He smelled of home,
security, and community. And she better get some rest, because clearly this was all a dream.

He held up his duffel bag. “Which bedroom is mine? Upstairs or down?”

Before shutting the door, she looked outside. Nothing seemed amiss. The sky wasn't falling or filled with flying pigs.

When she turned around, Ross had set down the damned duffel and was looking as gorgeous as ever.

“There are things I should've said to ye, lass.”

“I'm still trying to understand why you're here.”

He moved closer, but he seemed careful, trying not to scare her off. “Can I fix us a cup of tea? I'd like to sit with ye. Talk.” He glanced at her lips as if he had something more in mind, but he shook his head as if to clear the thought.

She pointed. “The kitchen's that way.”

She followed him in and pulled the kettle from the cabinet. He took it from her and filled it with water, while she got out the tea and cups. When the kettle was on the stove, heating up, they both sat at the table.

“So?” she said.

“I'd never been lonely until I met you,” he said without preamble.

He wasn't making any sense.

“Ross, I haven't been gone but, what, twenty-four hours?”

He shook his head as if she didn't understand. “That's not it. I've never experienced loneliness, even when I've been off by myself. But now, I can be surrounded by the whole town, and I feel alone without ye there. When I
went to work on the
Betsy Lane
for all those days, it was pure hell to be without you.” He reached out and took her hand.

She stared at how his large hand covered hers. How warm it was. How safe she felt when he was near.

She pulled her hand away. “It's an illusion.”

He scooted his chair closer. “My love for you isn't an illusion.” He tipped her chin up so her eyes met his. “I love ye, Sadie. I've never said that to another woman.”

“Not even Pippa?” Sadie was a little lost in his gaze . . . and in the earnestness in his eyes. The sincerity. The truth?

“I love Pippa as a sister. Nothing else.” He took Sadie's hand again and squeezed. “You came along at the wrong time, is all.”

She tried to pull away, but he held on.

“Ye've heard the saying,
When man plans, God laughs.
I had a grand plan. I wanted to be free and unattached. But when the Almighty dropped ye in my lap, He laughed his arse off, wondering if I was going to be smart enough to recognize the gift He'd given me.”

“So God's plan is for you to have me, huh? What about what
I
want?” Oh, she was being a tough one, but her heart was at stake.

“I understand. I'm a determined man, and patient. I'll just have to win ye over.”

“How are you going to do that? I live here. You live in Scotland.”

“Luv, don't ye get it? Wherever you are is where my home is now. I can fish here, you know. I can support us.”

The kettle whistled. Ross squeezed her hand one more time, rose, and poured the water over their tea bags.

“But we can't be together. My CKD.”

“The truth is,” he said, “it doesn't matter to me. Even if your illness was something more dire, I'd still want to marry ye.”

Her breath caught.

But he went on as if she wasn't near to passing out. “I've done my research. Having CKD isn't a death sentence. Hell, fishing is one of the deadliest jobs in the world. If ye can stand being a fisherman's wife, then I think I can handle yere crappy kidneys.”

“You may have done your research, but there are certain decisions that I'm going to make for myself that would impact you—or whoever else I decide to marry.”

He smiled at her slipup.

She dropped the hammer. “What if I decide
not
to have children because I don't want to risk it? You have
family man
written all over you.”

He reached for her and pulled her onto his lap. “You're not listening.
You
are my family. I believe I fell in love with you that first night you crawled into bed to comfort me. Marry me, Sadie.”

“But my life is here. My doctors. Everything.” Except for this wonderful man.

“I know. Ye said that. I'm not going anywhere. Marry me.” He pushed her hair behind her ear.

“The rejection drugs,” she argued. “I'll be on them for the rest of my life after the transplant. Do you know how expensive that's going to be?”

“I'll take extra jobs. Marry me.”

She was running out of arguments, and steam. Could this really be happening? “But you said you don't like desperate women.” She was grasping at straws at this
point, but she needed to cover everything. “And I love you desperately.”

She couldn't believe she'd admitted to it.

He laughed and a relieved smile spread over his face. “Och, lass, I was an uneducated prig back when I said that. I had a laddie's point of view.”

“It wasn't that long ago.”

“But I've grown since then. There's nothing sexier, or more satisfying, than to have yere woman desperate for ye.” He gazed into her eyes. “Ye are my woman, aren't you?”

She nodded.

He stroked her cheek. “I love ye desperately, too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a brooch. “Will ye wear this? To show everyone that ye're mine?”

“A luckenbooth?” It looked nothing like Moira's, but Sadie recognized the design. This one looked old. It had two entwined hearts set atop flowering thistles.

“It was my mother's,” he said. “My da gave it to her when he claimed her as his own.”

She ran her fingers over the brooch. “Is that what you're doing? Claiming me?”

“Aye. But only if ye'll have me. Otherwise, I'll just hang around here like a devoted dog. Or yere servant. Just to be near ye.” He leaned in and kissed her.

It was sweet and tender, and it melted all her objections into nothingness. At last, her head believed in her heart.

He pulled away suddenly, reaching into his pocket. “I almost forgot. I brought ye another gift.” He handed over a folded piece of paper.

Curious, she opened it up and read.

My dearest Sadie,

I wanted to write you a letter to make you fall madly and completely in love with me as I have with you. I wanted to be as eloquent as a hero in a Jane Austen novel. But the best I could do was to steal a line from Wentworth: You pierce my soul.

I love you, always and forever. I will devote my life to being worthy of your love, if you will only give me a chance and love me back.

Yours,
Ross

Sadie felt intoxicated. All her life, she'd lived vicariously through her novels. She never imagined that she could truly have a love that compared with what was written within the pages of a book. Yet Ross's letter had surpassed every hope and dream she'd ever had for herself.

“Oh, Ross.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

When the kiss ended, Ross held her close. “I'm anxious to wed ye. How quickly can we get married here?”

Sadie took his hand, kissed it, and then gazed into his eyes. “Do you mind much if we wait? I want to get moved home to Scotland first. Then I want a Gandiegow wedding.”

“Home?” he said hoarsely.

“Aye.” She tried on a Scottish burr.

“But I thought ye said yere life was—”

“My heart is in Gandiegow. I'm already missing everyone. Doc MacGregor can arrange the medical care I need. Scotland is where I want to be. With you.”

“Aw, lass.” Ross smiled brightly and then held her close
again. “We'll go home. But ye told me ye didn't want a wedding with all the fuss. Ye saw what Andrew and Moira had to endure.”

“Yes, I did—their community surrounding them, promising to love, honor, and support them, through thick and thin.”

“All right.” He stroked her cheek. “But Deydie was right about you.”

“About what?”

“Ye're nothing but
trouble
.” He kissed her nose. “But ye're my kind of trouble.”

*   *   *

Sadie and Ross stayed in North Carolina for five weeks, taking care of the things that needed to be done in the US. She found a real estate agent, packed up everything she wanted to ship to Gandiegow, and generally played house with her hot Scot—especially in the bedroom—until it was time to go back. There were many phone calls and congratulations between the two countries. Oliver seemed the happiest of all, promising not to be controlling when she arrived home in Scotland. She doubted he could change overnight, but the first step in correcting a problem was admitting it.

It was early evening when the shuttle service dropped her and Ross off at the parking lot with her two suitcases and his duffel bag.

Sadie looked around. “It's irrational, but I kind of hoped everyone would be waiting here to welcome us home.”

“It's okay, lass. The important thing is that we
are
home.”

They walked contentedly through the village. How
strange that all the lights were out at the pub—and when they came near the restaurant, they saw the
CLOSED
sign attached to the door. But they proceeded on to Thistle Glen Lodge where it had been decided Sadie should stay until they got married next month.

“I honestly don't think I can wait that long,” Ross said once again.

“Are you still complaining about how much time a wedding takes to organize? Seriously, Ross, I'm standing my ground. I want it all.” She paused, went up on tiptoes, and kissed his lips. “I've got the perfect man, and now I want the perfect Gandiegow wedding—from the bridal shower to the vows at the altar to the reception afterward. And Deydie said over the phone that it would take a month to plan.
And that was rushing it.
”