The Trouble with Scotland Page 10

  Silence loomed. Ross dropped his feet to the floor and turned to Maggie. “If it’s not okay, I can go without him.”

  Still Maggie remained quiet.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Sadie said. Didn’t Ross have a clue? She walked past the stubborn Scot, kicked his shoe, then spoke to Maggie. “Ross is taking me also, so I can buy books for Quilting Central’s library.”

  John looked to Maggie. “Quilting Central has a library?”

  But Sadie was the one who responded. “Ross is going to build shelves, and I’m going to stock them. Or do the best I can before I have to leave on Saturday.” Time was passing quickly.

  The tension was thick. Sadie knew it was because she and Ross were spending too much time together. She’d heard the whispers that Maggie wanted one of her sisters for Ross. Sadie wished she could explain that she wasn’t after him. The idea was laughable, really. She only wanted to help him find someone new. But she hadn’t even told him her plan yet.

  John broke the silence. “Brodie Wallace is back in town.”

  Sadie looked at Ross questioningly.

  Ross sat back down. “Brodie’s a friend of ours whose grandfather has been sick on and off for a while now. I suppose he’s come home to help old Abraham.”

  John sat on the other end of the sofa. “Aye, I’ve noticed his cough is worse of late.”

  There was a ruckus at the front door as it swung open and Ross’s brother Ramsay came in with his wife, the matchmaker. “Gawd, woman, ye have balls.”

  They both laughed, but when Kit saw Ross, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You and I need to talk. You know, don’t you, that you’re going to have to meet with Harry’s niece. He promised her.” She held her hand up. “I know you didn’t promise, but still. You don’t want to hurt her feelings, now, do you?”

  Ross’s eyes flitted heavenward. “Not now, Kit. I beg you.”

  “After dinner then,” she said with finality, “we’ll talk.”

  Sadie gave Ross a pitying look, feeling better about the plan she was working on for Glasgow. If he started dating, surely the people of the village would leave him alone then.

  “Are you staying for dinner, Sadie?” Kit asked.

  “Aye,” Maggie said. “Stay.”

  “Thank you. I’d love to.” It would beat going back to Quilting Central and eating with the quilters. For some reason, she didn’t mind the hubbub at Ross’s cottage.

  Sadie continued to work on the chair pockets, but as dinnertime drew near, she cleared them away. Cait dropped in briefly to retrieve Mattie, and John and Ross set the table. The entire house reverberated with jibes, laughter, and love.

  Dinner was a predictably loud affair, as the brothers kidded one another and a gurgling Irene was passed from person to person, even Dand taking his turn with his little sister.

  For a moment, Sadie wished Oliver was here to experience the fun. She, Gigi, and Oliver had had wonderful family dinners—far quieter than this, but just as full of love.

  But not anymore.

  When no one could eat another bite, Kit announced that she and Ross would be doing the dishes.

  “Sadie, ye have to help, too,” Ross said.

  “Of course.” She would be his buffer and moral support against his matchmaking sister-in-law and her onslaught of eligible bachelorettes.

  Kit took her place at the sink to wash, but before she could open her mouth, Ross was talking.

  “Sadie, I’ve been meaning to ask ye, what’s it like in North Carolina?” He winked at her. “Are the summers the same as here?”

  She knew what he was doing. “The weather is hot this time of year. We spend a lot of time on the beach or indoors where there’s air-conditioning.” She went on a bit longer about the beauty of North Carolina, then turned to Kit. “I hear from everyone that you’re a matchmaker. How did you get involved in such an interesting career?”

  Kit began explaining how she’d progressed from matching her wealthy friends to starting The Real Men of Alaska, and finally finding her way to Scotland and expanding her business here.

  And while Sadie had Kit, she decided to pump her for useful information. “So how do you go about deciding who is best for whom? Let’s take Ross, for instance.”

  “Let’s not,” Ross interjected. “It’s not polite to discuss my love life with an out-of-town guest.”

  Kit tossed her dish towel at Ross’s head. “You need my help, brother-in-law, or you’ll end up a lonely old fisherman.”

  “Nay. I’ll have all of ye to nag me to my dying day.”

  “How exactly would you go about picking out a woman for Ross?” Sadie might’ve said too much because Kit looked at her sideways and Ross swung around to look at her, too. “I mean choosing the right mate for a man. Or a woman, for that matter.”

  Now Maggie was looking at her strangely. “Are ye asking for yereself?”

  “Heavens, no.” Sadie glanced at the clock on the wall and watched the hand tick while she tried to come up with a way to dig herself out. “It’s late. I’m just so tired. I better get back to the quilting dorm.”

  Ross pointed at the door. “I’ll walk you. To make sure ye don’t get into any trouble.”

  That only made things worse. Now Ramsay and John were looking at her, too.

  Ross grabbed the novel she’d been reading that morning off the treadle machine. “Ye don’t want to forget this.”

  Outside, Ross jumped right in, or maybe down her throat. “What was that all about?”

  She had wanted to tell him her plan earlier, when she’d thought he was in the right frame of mind. Now . . . not so much. “I have an idea of how to help you. A way to get Gandiegow off your back.”

  His raised hackles relaxed. “All right. I’m listening.”

  “When we’re in Glasgow, we should go out,” Sadie said.

  He frowned at her.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean you and me. But we should go to a pub or something.”

  He still looked bemused.

  She put her hands on her hips. “So we can find you a woman.”

  “We?”

  But he seemed relieved that she wasn’t the woman in question, and her heart gave a sad little sigh. Logically she knew Ross wasn’t for her, but apparently subconsciously, a fantasy life she didn’t know existed had taken over wanting things it couldn’t have, not in a million years.

  “And what would this woman be like?” He was all in now.

  “I don’t know yet. But you’ll let me be your wingman—I mean, your wing-woman—at the pub?”

  He seemed to be thinking about it. “And what about ye? What about finding you a man?” He stopped for a second, considering. “Unless ye already have one at home you failed to mention.”

  Sadie snorted. “No. Not hardly. I already told you that.”

  “Why not?”

  She blushed—not only for the crazy thoughts that she’d been having about Ross, but for the truth. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “What’s embarrassing?” He stood there, waiting patiently. “Tell me.”

  “Dating has always seemed a lot of trouble, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve always been more interested in books than men.” There. She’d said it. She finally glanced in Ross’s direction, and she found him grinning.

  “What?” she said. “You think it’s funny that I’m pretty clueless?” Not completely clueless, but he didn’t need to know about the experiences she’d had.

  “That’s not it at all,” he said. “Go on. Tell me more.”

  “I guess I just don’t know how to be all that feminine. I don’t know a thing about clothes or fashion, though Gigi did her best to teach me; it just didn’t take.”

  Ross scanned her from head to toe as if she had assets worth looking it. He didn’t seem repulsed by what he saw . . . quite possibly the opp
osite. But she had to be mistaken.

  He touched her arm and got them moving again. He was silent for a long moment as they cut through the path to the back of the bluff. She waited for him to say something about his assessment, like, Oh, I think you look great. But who was she kidding?

  Finally he spoke. “Maybe I can help.”

  “Help what?”

  “We’re here.”

  Sure enough, they were back at Thistle Glen Lodge. The lights were out, so clearly the rest of the dorm occupants weren’t back yet from Quilting Central. Sadie could read her book in peace and not have to speak with another human being tonight.

  Ross walked her to the door, opened it, and flipped on the foyer light. The chandelier put him in half shadows.

  “Do you want to come in for a drink?” she heard herself asking, as if having an out-of-body experience. Am I out of my freaking mind?

  Talk about embarrassed. Her face heated up. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide forever. Why had she done that? She sounded as if she was propositioning him. Everyone knew drink was code for sex. “Sorry.” Her cheeks felt as though they’d been torched. If only she was in half shadows.

  To her surprise, he didn’t seem to be put off by the idea. He studied her face intently, as if he were actually considering it.

  If only I were more interesting to look at.

  “I can’t stay,” he finally said. He gave no more explanation than that, just turned and walked away at a clip without so much as a good-bye.

  She stood in the doorway, disgusted with herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She knew exactly who she was, accepted it, and was completely comfortable in her ballet flats, yet now she felt like doing something crazy. Run after him. Throw her arms around him and hang on. Soak him up.

  Because when she was around Ross, she felt as if she was more.

  More Sadie than she’d ever been on her own.

  * * *

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Ross took long, determined strides away from the quilting dorm and toward the pub. Everything in him wanted to turn back, drop anchor beside Sadie at Thistle Glen Lodge, have that drink she offered, and see where things would lead. But she wasn’t part of his plan. She was here for only a short period of time. She was his friend. And for some reason, which he couldn’t figure out, she was derailing him. But he would keep his hormones under wraps and his bearings true. He’d missed out on years of freedom and was determined to claim it now.

  He should head home to bed, but the Inquisition waited for him at the cottage.

  It was times like this that he missed Duncan the most. He could really use a shot of whisky and a chat in front of the fire with him. But Duncan was gone, and life had moved on. The only problem was that Ross hadn’t.

  He entered the pub and sat at the far end of the bar, where he’d first met Sadie, and where he’d taken it upon himself to spirit her away from the town for their twenty-four hours of freedom. What he wouldn’t give to be away from Gandiegow now.

  But the two of them, plus Dand, would be going away together tomorrow. They should’ve discussed their travel plans, instead of how she wanted to find him a woman.

  But at that moment, with the light falling on her, she’d looked just like an angel. An angel! Gads!

  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?”