The Trouble with Scotland (9 page)

“From what I hear, ye're more of an expert than most of us.”

Oliver again.

This was really getting ridiculous. “But I'm only here for the week.”

Deydie lifted her eyebrow as if to say
We'll see
. “Then ye better get started. It would mean a great deal to us, lassie.” She tilted her head toward the baby and said, “We all help one another here.”

Bethia clasped her hands in front of her while she waited for the answer, making Sadie wonder if she was praying or holding her breath.

“All right.” Just this once, she could go to Quilting Central. It should take only a few minutes at most and then she could get back to making the chair pockets for the school.

Deydie handed Irene back to Maggie. “Come on then.” Her softness faded as gruffness returned. “The day is
wasting away.” Maybe they should take the baby with them to make Deydie more pleasant.

Sadie followed the women back to Quilting Central, the sun bathing her with warmth and at the same time, the breeze off the ocean cooling her. At the doorway, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the onslaught of emotions that had hit her the first time she'd walked into the building.

When she opened the door, she peered in cautiously, and sure enough, she wanted to run. But Gigi's words about keeping promises pushed Sadie inside. Everyone looked up, but then looked away, like it wasn't polite to stare at a train wreck. Only Oliver, at the back by the computers, nodded in her direction.

Bethia took her arm. “We were thinking the library would look nice over here. See how the light comes in the window?”

Yes. They could even place a couple of comfy chairs or a small love seat under the sill.

“Get over there to get a closer look.” Deydie's bossy tone was back, full force.

As Sadie walked over, the first wave of panic subsided. This time at Quilting Central didn't feel as overwhelming as before. The first time, the quilters had all rushed her, making her feel crushed and suffocated. But now the women kept to their seats as if they'd been stitched to them.

Only the plaid twins came forward. “We haven't been properly introduced,” the one in green said. “I'm Ailsa and this is Aileen, my sister.”

Her red plaid twin bobbed her head. “Bethia and
Deydie said we're to help ye with the library. Whatever ye need.”

“Aye,” said Ailsa. “Are ye staying for next week's retreat as well?”

“Oh, no. I have to get back,” Sadie said. But what did she have to get back to? The dental office had told her to take all the time she needed—the office manager knew that Sadie was less than thrilled with her job of cleaning teeth.

Deydie hustled over, as if to say
Time's up
. “The lass has to get back to work here. And so do ye two. How is Moira's wedding dress coming along?”

Ailsa opened her mouth to answer, but Deydie cut her off.

“Never mind. I'll come and see for meself.” Deydie walked away with them, and Sadie saw her nod at another gray-haired woman.

That gray-haired woman snagged another on her way over to Sadie. They introduced themselves as Freda and Maxie.

“Freda is working on three quilts. One for her new husband, the McDonnell, and then matching quilts for their soon-to-be grandbabies,” Maxie explained.

Freda had to be in her fifties, but she was blushing like a young bride, thoroughly in love. The two of them spoke with her for only a moment and then they too went back to their seats. Maxie nodded at the next set of women who stood.

As if Sadie was captain of some strange ark, two by two, the quilters came over to chat with her. And it was no coincidence. The more Sadie thought about it, the more certain she was that Oliver was behind this, too.

Deydie returned with a pad of paper. “Ye'll need this. For yere figuring.”

Sadie had had enough of this charade. She hated Oliver's interfering, but she gave him points for cleverness. Luring her to Quilting Central by way of a library was brilliant. And truth be told, Sadie was anxious to get started—research what books to load on the shelves. Maybe she could borrow Oliver's laptop and search online.

Before anyone else could descend on Sadie, she grabbed the notebook and headed out the door. Outside, on the ocean breeze, she caught the scent of garlic in the wind and headed for the restaurant, hungry because she'd missed lunch.

When she opened the door, she expected to see Claire taking orders, but instead Emma was there waiting on tables. Claire was nowhere in sight.

Emma waved to Sadie. “I'll be right with you.”

Wasn't she just back at the cottage?

While Sadie took a seat, she thought
What a funny town
. The village had a therapist who doubled as a waitress. While Sadie had been getting her shot from Doc MacGregor, a man had stopped by to ask the doc to give his boat engine a tune-up. And then there was Deydie, who seemed to think it was her job to organize everyone else's life, including Sadie's. As if she could ever help Sadie get over losing Gigi.

Claire came through the front door, calling, “I'm back.” She grabbed an apron from the hook behind the counter. “Who's up next?”

Emma gave her a brilliant smile. “Me. I'm starved.” She turned toward Sadie. “Join me for a snack?”

“Okay.”

Emma slipped her apron over her head and chose a table by the window. “The view is great from here.”

Before Sadie could answer, two more customers came in—a woman and a boy of around eight. When he saw Emma, his face lit up and he ran to her.

“Mattie! You're back!” She caught him, the two of them hugging. He let go and she ruffled his hair. “Oh, my goodness, you have grown. What have they been feeding you in New Zealand?”

The boy didn't answer, but Emma went on as if he had. “Well, it's about time you came to see me. I heard through the grapevine you had returned.”

“We just arrived home,” the woman said in a Scots-American accent. “We stopped by the surgery and Gabe told us where to find you.”

Sadie recognized this woman. Thirty-something, cute. Yes, she'd seen her in
People
magazine in the story about Graham Buchanan, the BBC movie star from Gandiegow. She was his wife and she'd written his biography. Sadie had checked the book out from the library.

She stuck out her hand to Sadie. “I'm Cait. Deydie's my gran. She told me all about you.”

I'm sure she did.

Cait laughed. “By the look on yere face, I see you've had a run-in or two with the ole bird. She's a good woman. Ye'll get used to her ways. In the meantime, don't hold my family ties against me.”

Cait had a genuine smile and Sadie liked her instantly.

“I won't.”

At that, Cait's face clouded with empathy. “The quilt block that you and yere gran made was beautiful. Deydie
sent me the pictures of the finalists. Hands down, yours was the best entry. I was so sorry to hear of yere gran's passing.” She said it with such compassion that Sadie was put at ease.

Cait nudged Mattie. “You wanted to find Emma. Go on now and ask her.”

That's when it registered that the boy hadn't made a sound—not when he'd run to Emma, and not when he'd hugged her.

Mattie faced Emma, serious, seeming to work up the words from deep inside. “I need to make an appointment.” Sadie feared he had a severe stutter, but his voice was only quiet, hesitant. He seemed to struggle with every word.

Emma gave him an open smile that said
well done
even if her words didn't. “Do you want to wait until you get settled in, or would you like to start later today?”

Mattie looked up at his mother—correction,
his adoptive mother
, according to Graham's biography.

Cait shrugged. “You decide.”

Mattie faced Emma again. “Today.”

“How about you come by the doctor's quarters at three when Angus is down for a nap?”

Mattie nodded.

“Do you want to join us?” Emma glanced at Sadie for belated permission.

Cait shook her head. “Nay. We're headed to Quilting Central. I want to say hello to all the ladies. Graham has a two-month break and I want to take advantage of every second of being home.”

Emma seemed to deflate a little. “Then you will head back to New Zealand with him?”

Cait's eyebrows pinched together. “I'm not sure. We've missed Gandiegow.” She tipped her head in Mattie's direction. “We'll make our decision before school starts. Right, Mattie?”

The door to the restaurant burst open and Dand stumbled in. “Ye're home! Want to go to Spalding Farm with me and my da?”

“Well, hello to ye, too, Dand.” Cait turned to Sadie. “This is John and Maggie's boy.”

“We met earlier today.”

Dand grinned up at Sadie. “She taught me how to read.”

Cait and Emma both looked skeptical, and Sadie smiled at the boy's exuberance. “Yes. Dand and I read a stack of picture books together.”

“It was loads of fun,” Dand said to Mattie, giggling. “We read about dinosaur poop.”

Mattie crinkled up his face, but he was grinning, too.

Dand turned and tugged on Sadie's hand. “Ye can read to Mattie, too.”

Sadie smiled. “Maybe.”

Dand turned on Cait. “Can Mattie come with us? We won't be gone long.”

Cait touched her boy's arm. “Go on, Mattie. I'll run by Maggie's and pick you up afterward. Ye two stay out of trouble.”

But the boys weren't listening as they dashed out the door.

Cait's smile faded, her eyes still on the empty doorway. “He's slid backward. In the last month or so.”

Emma wrapped her arm around Cait's shoulders. “Don't worry. It's normal. We'll get it sorted.”

Cait seemed to remember Sadie standing there. “Mattie has been struggling with mutism. He witnessed a terrible boat accident out by the rocks. All of the fishermen on board drowned.”

“No.” Sadie's heart went out to Mattie. “I'm so sorry.”

“He's made a lot of progress,” Emma said encouragingly. “He's come a long way.”

“Aye,” Cait agreed. “I'm torn. I want to be with my husband, but Mattie needs you, and Deydie, and Gandiegow.”

Emma squeezed her again. “No decisions have to be made today.”

Cait hugged Emma, bid them both good-bye, and then she was gone.

They had a pleasant meal of mini chef salads and buttery garlic bread, and then Emma hurried home to care for Angus.

Sadie stayed at the table near the front picture window and sketched a layout for Quilting Central's library. She also made a list of genres—quilting fiction, mysteries, mainstream novels, the history of crafting, and romance—books she thought would appeal to the retreat goers. Then she settled herself to gaze at the ocean. She would never tire of a view of the water.

Not a moment later, she caught sight of a man sauntering in her direction—his size, shape, and gait so familiar that her pulse even recognized him, racing more than it should. As he got closer, Ross saw her through the window, too, and waved.

Grinning, he walked into the restaurant. “Can I join you? I'm starving.”

“I've eaten. But sit so I can show you what I've been
working on.” She thrust the opened notebook toward him. “Oliver found a way to get me back to Quilting Central. Oh, but I'm sure you've already heard. Deydie said you were making the shelves for the library.”

“This was Oliver's idea?”

“It has to be. He's a master manipulator. I've seen him operate my whole life.”

The door to the restaurant opened.

“Speak of the devil,” Sadie muttered, then plastered on a smile.

Her brother saw her, took in Ross, and then made a beeline for them. Sadie expected him to lambaste Ross, but he chose a different tack. “Deydie said you're putting together a library for her.”

“Like you didn't know.”

Oliver looked confused, then pulled his wallet from his back pocket, slipped out a credit card, and held it out to her. “I thought you would need this to buy some books online for it. My contribution.”

Wasn't that just like her brother? Just when she wanted to stay mad at him, he had to go all generous and noble on her.

Sadie took the card, but before she could say anything, Ross piped up.

“Not online. Just now, Sadie was asking me to take her to Glasgow so she could shop for books. Tomorrow. Waterstones, right?”

This was news to her.

Now Oliver looked uncomfortable. “You're not going anywhere alone with this guy. We know nothing about him.”

Ross's back straightened at this attack on his
character but he didn't take the bait. “My nephew Dand is going along.”

“How old is your nephew?”

“Dand? Six. No, seven last month. We'll be staying the night with my mother and my aunt Glynnis. Maybe two nights, depending on how many things need to be fixed around the house in Glasgow.” Ross pulled Sadie's notebook over and ripped out a sheet, scribbling on it. “Here's my mum's phone number and the address of where we'll be. Call if ye like.” He handed the paper off to Oliver.

Sadie huffed. Didn't they both know that she could manage her own life? But in truth she was probably more excited than irritated
.
Although Ross was being as high-handed as Oliver, she relished the idea of getting out of town again for a while.

To Oliver's credit, he looked a little embarrassed when he took the paper from Ross and shoved it in his front pocket, crumpling it. “Maybe I will check up.”

But then he renewed his jerk-brother status. “Keep your hands off my sister anyway.”

Like Ross would dream of doing otherwise.

Without another word, Oliver stomped over to the counter and placed a to-go order with Claire.

Sadie waited until she was sure Oliver wasn't listening and cocked an eyebrow at Ross. “Am I really going to Glasgow? Or were you just messing with my brother?”