He walked into the restaurant and climbed the stairs to the second floor. He stood in the doorway of the grand dining room watching the townsfolk cutting loose in the low-lighted room, the disco ball twirling like it was 1980. The anticipation was thick that anything could happen tonight.
Bonnie popped up beside him and grabbed his hand. “Come on, sailor. The song’s half over and I’ve been waiting to dance.” She pulled him out on the floor before his eyes had really adjusted to the dark.
It was a fast song, but Bonnie clutched him and swayed to the music like it was a slow ballad. He felt trapped with her body crushed up against his. He looked at the punch table. He glanced at the band. When he peered past Bonnie’s shoulder, everyone was dancing, except the one person who stood in the middle of the floor, staring at him. Rachel.
Hannah danced around her, flapping her arms like an eaglet trying to get her mum’s attention. Rachel plastered on a smile for her daughter, took her hand, and danced along.
The scene was all wrong. Damn Joe. Rachel shouldn’t have to raise her daughter all alone.
The song ended. Brodie half wanted to go to Rachel and Hannah—and dance with them both. It’s what Andrew, Moira, and Glenna were doing. But while he was mulling over the idea, a tall figure blocked his view of Rachel. Brodie didn’t have to see Tuck’s face to know what he was about. He’d done nothing but ask about Rachel since day one.
“Brodie,” Lochie said over the loud speaker. “Come up and sing.”
Brodie couldn’t. He had an arse to kick. Why the devil was Tuck sniffing about a single mother? He wasn’t the kind of man to take on real responsibility.
“Brodie,” Lochie said again into the microphone. “We’re waiting on ye.”
Brodie tramped over to where the band had set up. He took the mike and nodded to Lochie. But instead of striking up a rousing reel, Lochie cued up “I Once Loved a Lass.” Brodie shook it off, but Lochie kept playing, shrugging his shoulders like it was a done deal.
Brodie amended his list . . . first kick Lochie’s arse when this was over then Tuck, who had taken Rachel into his arms. He glared one more time at Lochie and then began singing . . .
“I once loved a lass and I loved her so well
And I hated all others who spoke of her ill.
And now she’s rewarded me well for my love,
For she’s gone and she’s wed another.”
The words hit so close to home, Brodie wondered if Lochie hadn’t planned it. But the bloke looked oblivious while he strummed his guitar as if he had a certain someone in mind. Each effing chorus ended the same: For she’s gone and she’s wed another. The song clawed at Brodie’s chest as Rachel danced with Tuck. Once again, he had the sinking feeling he had missed the boat. Rachel wasn’t mooning over him anymore; she was laughing, because apparently, Tuck was the most charming dance partner on the planet. Didn’t she know he wasn’t right for her?
Tuck led them closer and closer to the band. Rachel kept her eyes on Tuck, never looking up. If she had, she would’ve seen Brodie staring at her.
Something was off. Way off about her. Then Brodie noticed: She no longer wore his locket.
* * *
Rachel feigned happiness. Fake it before you make it, her first boss at the Winderly used to say when dealing with exasperating customers. But she could apply this to her current situation. Happiness would surely follow if she pretended as if all was well. She was only dancing with Tuck because she was moving on. She wasn’t trying to make Brodie jealous; Tuck was just the first person to approach her. She hoped there would be others. More people to distract her and help her listen to that empowered inner voice of hers. Brodie is not singing to me.
She glanced around for Hannah and found her at the cake table talking to Dand and Mattie. Rachel would get through this heartache if she kept focused on her daughter.
But something else caught her attention . . . Cait and Deydie. Cait seemed to be pleading with Deydie, but the old woman had the determined look of one who had been wronged. Others in the room appeared to be unhappy. Sinnie looked to be arguing with her beau, Colin, a local well-to-do farmer. Grace Armstrong appeared to be as miserable as Rachel as she sat in the corner with her granddaughter Irene. Rachel followed to where she stared . . . Vivienne dancing with Casper MacGregor.
The song ended. Rachel stared up at Tuck’s good-looking face. “Thank you.”
“Dance another with me,” he said as Brodie broke into an up-tempo tune.
“I need to check on my mother.” Rachel spoke the truth. She stepped out of Tuck’s arms, going back on her decision to let her mother lead her own life. Her mother should back off from Casper. But as she made her way to Vivienne, who was laughing and hanging on to his arm, Kit stepped into Rachel’s path.
“Hold up. She’s my mother-in-law, and I see it, too.” Kit tilted her head toward Grace first, then Vivienne, who was shamelessly throwing herself at Casper. “I think we should let it play out, don’t you?”
Rachel glanced at Vivienne. “I don’t know. You may be a matchmaker, but my mother can be tenacious when it comes to men. She seems determined to get Casper in her clutches.”
Kit nodded knowingly. “I believe your mother might just be what Grace needs to propel her into action.”
Rachel looked over at Grace. “She looks more defeated than propelled.”
Kit touched her arm reassuringly. “This is just the calm before the storm. She’ll wake up soon to what she’s missing out on.”
“Do I need to be worried for my mother?”
“I think she can take care of herself, don’t you?”
“Yes. You’re right.”
Kit gestured at the band. “Can I help with your situation? I would be happy to set something up with Brodie for you.”
“No,” Rachel squeaked, utterly embarrassed. “Please, don’t. What you heard through the grapevine was nothing but a misunderstanding.” Sure, Rachel had kissed Brodie. But that was before she’d seen the truth . . . he would never be hers.
“Okay.” Kit might have gone along with her, but her expression said she didn’t believe a word Rachel said.
Hannah tugged her hand. “Mummy, I don’t feel so good.” Her cheeks were bright red.
Rachel touched her forehead. “You’re burning up.” She picked her up. “Let’s get you to the quilting dorm.”
Kit looked worried. “Do you need Doc MacGregor?”
“No. It’s probably just a bug.” It wasn’t the first time Hannah had gone from being fine to suddenly ill. The pediatrician said it was normal for kids to be okay one second and sick in the next. “Can you let my mother know I’m taking Hannah back?”
“Yes. No problem.”
Rachel gathered their coats and set Hannah to her feet to slip hers on.
“But I didn’t even get to dance with my friends,” Hannah whined.
“I know, sweetie. There will be other parties.” Rachel thought about the children’s Tylenol she had brought with her from Chicago. She tried to remember what was in the refrigerator at the dorm to keep Hannah hydrated. She could always send her mother to the General Store for supplies as the door was once again open twenty-four hours a day. Amy had put Harry to work to pay for the things he’d borrowed.
Back at the dorm, Rachel gave Hannah a dose of medicine and settled her into bed. Guzzy was requested and retrieved. Then Rachel had to kiss each one of Hannah’s dolls before positioning them on the bed beside her.
“Mummy, I’m going to shut my eyes, but I’m not going to sleep. Can you read to me?”
“Yes, but how about I make myself a cup of herbal tea first?”
Hannah’s eyes were already closed when she nodded.
Rachel went into the kitchen. She really did need a cup of tea, but before she could put the kettle on, there was a quiet knock at the front door. She padded down t
he hall to answer it.
Doc MacGregor, with his medical bag in hand, stood next to Brodie.
“I hear yere daughter’s ill?” Gabriel said.
Rachel held the door wider for them to walk in while glancing at Brodie, who looked worried. “Hannah must’ve gotten a touch of something. She’s probably asleep by now.”
Gabriel nodded. “Then we’ll let her be.”
“Go check on her, Doc,” Brodie urged. “Ye’re already here.” It was sweet of Brodie to be concerned.
“Sure.” Gabriel seemed to want to appease Brodie.
“She’s in the back bedroom.”
When the three adults quietly entered the room, Hannah’s eyes were closed. But she opened them, as if sensing their presence. Her little girl was fighting sleep as she always wanted to be part of the action.
“Brodie,” Hannah said. “You came to read to me.”
“That’s right, princess.”
Rachel told her heart not to go all gooey. Brodie loves Hannah. That’s it, nothing more.
“I’ll read to you, but first, Doc wants to take yere temperature.”
Hannah looked up at Gabriel matter-of-factly. “Mummy says I’m burning up.”
Doc chuckled, stepping forward. “Mothers are usually right about these things.” He took her temperature, pulse, and listened to her heart. When he was done, he patted her hand. “I prescribe lots of fluids and rest.”
Brodie picked up a book and sat on Rachel’s bed across from her. “I’ll read while Doc talks to yere mum, okay?”
Hannah nodded.
Gabriel walked Rachel out. “It looks like the same virus the oldest Bruce child had. The fever should be gone in a couple of days. If she gets worse, call me.” He handed her his card.
“Thank you so much for coming.”
Gabriel glanced back down the hall, grinning. “Brodie didn’t give me much choice.”
Rachel felt her cheeks heat up, which was ridiculous. Hannah was Brodie’s cousin and he cared for her. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed at his insistence. “I was just putting on some tea. Would you like some?”
“Thanks, no. I’ll return to the celebration. But call if you need anything.”
She shook his hand and he left.
Brodie came into the kitchen as she was pouring herself a cup.
“She’s asleep,” he announced. He went to the cabinet, pulled down a mug, and poured himself a cup, also. “I shut the door so she wouldn’t be disturbed.”
She wondered at him making himself at home when he’d made it clear he didn’t want to be near her anymore.
“Listen, Rachel,” he started, but he didn’t get to finish.
The front door slammed, footsteps hurried through the house, and Vivienne appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She stared at Brodie, gave him a sideways frown as if he wasn’t worth her time, and turned on Rachel. “Why didn’t you tell me my granddaughter was sick?”
“She’s okay. It’s just a fever. Doc looked at her and said it was the same virus that had been going around.”
“Yes. I hurried as soon as I got word the doctor had been sent for.”
Somebody overreacted, Rachel wanted to say. But Vivienne, now that she’d dismissed Brodie with her behavior, wouldn’t have been pleased to know Brodie had spearheaded the house call.
Rachel went to her and put her arm around her mother. “It’s okay. Hannah is going to be fine.”
Brodie stood. “I better go.” He looked one more second at Rachel, then left, without taking a sip of his tea.
She wondered what he had started to say before her mother came in. But she could guess. He would reiterate what he’d said all along . . . nothing had changed between them.
Vivienne picked up Brodie’s cup, poured it in the sink, and rinsed it out. “Why was he here?”
“He was concerned about Hannah, too.” Rachel was tired of the same conversation with her mother and felt it was time to end it. “Mom, he wasn’t here to see me. I promise.”
“Are you sure? Because that man is not good enough for you.”
The dam cracked in Rachel’s façade and the truth poured forth. “But Joe cheating on me from nearly the beginning is the kind of man I deserve?” She made sure to say it quietly, conscious of her little girl sleeping down the hall.
Vivienne halted. “What?”
“Yes, Mom. I looked the other way for some time, but when I ended up with an STD at my six-week checkup after Hannah, I drew the line and called it quits.” Rachel’s voice caught. She’d worked so hard to make her marriage work, though from the beginning, she’d known she’d married the wrong man.
“Oh, honey! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I? I was so embarrassed at my situation. I knew months before the wedding that things were wrong. I stayed in denial, because I wanted to believe he was the perfect man.”
“And because I insisted that you go through with it.” Vivienne pulled her in for a hug. “You should’ve said something.”
“But I couldn’t. You loved Joe so much. I thought it was better if I kept it all to myself.”
Vivienne gazed at her with sadness. “I want you to feel like you can tell me anything.”
“I promise I will in the future.” Rachel felt the healing take place—the loose seam between her and her mother was finally being pulled together and stitched properly in place.
“Joe certainly was charismatic,” Vivienne sighed.
“So was Don Juan. But he wouldn’t make the best kind of husband either.”
They both laughed, relieving some of the tension that had been present between them.
“About Brodie—” Vivienne started.
Rachel put her hand up. “It’s okay. I’m not with him. But you have to know . . . he’s a good man. Loyal. True. And he loves Hannah very much. For that alone, he deserves your respect.”
Her mother nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” Her mother was finally going to give Brodie a chance and Rachel wanted to laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was only six years too late.
* * *
Grace just about had enough of Rachel’s mother pawing Casper when Kit said something to the Jezebel and she rushed out. Before any other women in Gandiegow laid claim to him, Grace found her son John and handed off his daughter to him. “There’s something I need to do.”
As she crossed the floor, she suddenly felt fine with her decision to openly date Casper. She loved her sons, but they had their own lives to live and they couldn’t be upset with her for living hers. She wanted to be with Casper. He made her laugh. He made her feel like an attractive woman again, instead of past her prime. But most of all, being around him made her feel whole. She was in love with him, and she was tired of telling herself that she wasn’t.
But before she had time to walk across the floor, Bonnie sauntered over and was chatting Casper up. Grace was not deterred. She marched the rest of way.
“Excuse me, Bonnie,” Grace said sweetly. “The reverend promised me the next dance.” And the one after that, and the one after that, if she had her way.
Bonnie glared at her as if it wasn’t true. “He’s a free man.”
Grace turned to him to make the next move and he didn’t disappoint.
Casper gave Bonnie an emphatic shake of his head. “Sorry, lass. I’m not free anymore.”
He took Grace’s hand and twirled her onto the dance floor.
* * *
Brodie finished with the boat’s log and headed home. For the last week, he’d stayed away from the quilting dorm while the tyke recovered. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he’d listened to reason.
“I’ll take my broom after ye,” Deydie had threatened, “if ye spread Hannah’s illness to Abraham. Yere grandda is
finally on the mend.” The old quilter was right; Grandda had turned a corner in the right direction, setting his sails to healing completely. Deydie also promised she and her ladies would see to the Americans’ comfort, being clear, Ye’re not needed in that quarter.
Aye, that may be true. But every day, Brodie passed a gift to Moira to take to Princess Hannah—his favorite fishing bobber, a stuffed animal from the General Store, or a handwritten note. He wanted the little one to know she hadn’t been forgotten.
Though he tried not to, his thoughts were on Rachel nonstop. If Vivienne hadn’t shown up in the kitchen on the night Hannah got sick, he might have said something which could’ve been misconstrued. Now that several days had passed, he felt he could say it perfectly. He needed to explain to Rachel that she shouldn’t be raising Hannah on her own. The lass needed a father.
But am I volunteering?
No. Hell, no. He couldn’t take Joe’s place. Guilt filled his gut as if he’d killed his cousin to take his wife. He shook it off. He didn’t kill anyone.
But the lass needs a father. Aye, she did. Brodie didn’t have all the kinks worked out yet to get her one. Also, he thought, feeling chagrined . . . with Vivienne off to France, she wouldn’t be around to bail him out again if he needed it.
The cottage came into sight. Today was the first day Hannah was cleared by Doc to come see Grandda. Brodie was free to see her, too, as Rachel had headed to Inverness. He wanted to spend as much time with his little cousin before she left Scotland for the States. Strange rumors of them staying had been floating around town, but he didn’t believe them. He expected any day now for Rachel to pack their bags for Chicago. The vision of her leaving felt real. He ignored the pain of Rachel wheeling her luggage to the shuttle waiting in the parking lot to whisk her and Hannah out of his life. He played the scene over and over, trying to get used to the horrible inevitable future.
He opened the door to the cottage, heard a squeal, and then little footsteps.
“Brodie!” Hannah ran to him with her arms wide.
It Happened in Scotland Page 27