Quickly, he dressed, finding the weather cooler here in July than in North Carolina. He went next door first, but no one answered when he knocked. He walked down the walkway, passing the General Store and the school. On the other side, he found the building marked Quilting Central and went inside. The place was crowded with quilters. He looked around, but didn’t see Sadie. Two older women noticed him and hurried over.
“You must be Oliver, Sadie’s brother,” said the taller of the two. “I’m Bethia and this is Deydie.”
The shorter, stockier one nodded at him. “Ye don’t look a thing like yere sister.”
Yes, he was blond, and Sadie had brown hair. He glanced around impatiently. “Speaking of my sister, I don’t see her. How is she this morning?”
Bethia shot Deydie a worried glance.
Panic flooded him; alarm bells went off in his head.
Deydie crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead and tell him.”
“Come with me, lad.” Bethia pointed to the sofa.
“No.” Oliver stood his ground. “Where’s my sister?”
Bethia laid a hand on his arm. “We’re not sure.”
Oliver’s throat closed and fire sparked behind his eyes. “What do you mean we’re not sure? Where is she?”
Deydie stepped directly in front of him and cranked her head back, staring him down. “She ran off. At least that’s what Coll told his wife, Amy.” She pointed to a younger woman across the room. “Amy let us know this morning.”
“We’ve been in this town less than twenty-four hours and you’ve lost my sister!” Oliver didn’t wait to hear more. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. He marched over to the black-haired woman who at least knew something. She bent over to pick up a baby from a playpen before he reached her.
She gave Oliver a big smile, but it faded quickly. She must’ve known he was pissed. She handed the kid off to someone else, saying something in Gaelic as she did.
When he reached her, he didn’t feel the need to introduce himself. “Where’s my sister?”
“Hold up there,” a male voice said from the doorway. Another man followed.
By the looks of them, the two were brothers, although one was redheaded and the other dark-haired. They approached Oliver.
“I’m John and this is my brother Ramsay.”
The rest of the room went quiet, listening in. Oliver didn’t give a rat’s ass who overheard. “Where is my sister?”
John put his hand on Oliver’s arm. “Why don’t we go outside and talk?”
Oliver shrugged him off. “No. You’ll answer my question. Now.”
“Yere sister’s in no danger. She’s with my brother Ross. They’re fine.”
“What do you mean? Why is she with your brother? How do you know he has her?” Fear and anger swept through Oliver. “Where are they?”
“They left together from the pub,” John said. “Last night.”
“What?” Why was Oliver only hearing of this now! “Your brother kept her out all night?” Had he kidnapped her? No. That seemed too far-fetched. But didn’t these people realize that he was responsible for his baby sister? “Your brother better not have touched her.”
“The lass looked willing,” Ramsay provided.
Oliver wanted to punch him.
Deydie glowered at Ramsay, but then stepped in front of Oliver as she’d done before. This time, her eyes held just the right amount of compassion, reminding him of Gigi. Tough, but with a good heart.
“Ye’re not to worry, lad.” She patted his arm. “If she’s with Ross, she’s in good hands. No harm’ll come to her.” She thumbed at the other two brothers. “I’d trust Ross over the two of them.” She was a woman who didn’t mince words. As gruff as she was, something about her forthrightness eased the panic that Oliver felt.
Bethia took his arm. “Let’s get ye one of Claire’s scones.”
Deydie latched on to his other arm. “It’ll help.”
He’d already had a scone, but the two of them calmed him. He let himself be led away.
* * *
As Sadie sat on her rock and soaked in the ocean, she thought on how the day couldn’t have gone better. They’d picnicked with a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread they’d bought from the grocer in a nearby village. Ross was a wonderful companion—not suffocating her or giving her any special consideration. He treated her as if she was normal. And he didn’t talk her to death.
She watched as storm clouds formed on the horizon, and her mood grew dark with the sky.
She glanced over at Ross sitting next to her. “We’re going to have to leave soon, aren’t we?”
“Aye.” He motioned to the increasingly angry sky. “We can’t sit here with that on top of us.”
Sadie wished she’d taken that auto mechanics class in high school so she’d know how to disable the pickup. “I don’t want to go.”
“Sorry, lass. We’ll have to head back and face them.” His stoic demeanor spoke volumes.
“Oh.”
He said he’d be in trouble with the people of Gandiegow, but she hadn’t let herself worry over it. But now she felt terrible putting him in the middle. “Then let’s get it over with.”
He jumped off the rock before she could move. With his hands gently around her waist, he helped her down. He was kind, attentive, and she appreciated everything he’d done.
Before leaving, he pulled out his phone. “I’m going to let my brother know that we’re on our way.”
Sadie should call Oliver, but she wanted to hang on to her illusion of independence for as long as possible. Maybe she shouldn’t have purposely shut off her phone, but she had to put the world on mute to achieve the quiet she needed.
The drive to Gandiegow was filled with comfortable silence and she soaked in every last second, knowing this would be the last of the peace. An hour later, as they were driving down the bluff to the idyllic village, Sadie steeled herself for the barrage ahead.
Ross parked the truck and turned to her before getting out. “Ye’re going to be all right, lass.”
The words themselves were reassuring, and she wanted to believe him, but too much had gone wrong to think things could ever be right again. She rallied a smile for him, opened her door, and let her feet hit the asphalt. Her adventure was over. A deep sadness filled her.
Ross got out and came to her side of the truck. Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed his arm, tugging, until he bent down so she could kiss his cheek. The stubble tickled and pricked her lips. “I’ll never forget what you did for me.” Never.
He stared into her eyes as if registering her for the first time, and he seemed shocked by what he found there. “Lass—”
“Sadie!”
She swung around to find Oliver barreling toward her. She’d never seen him this upset.
“Where the hell have you been!”
Chapter Three
Oliver’s face was rage red from his neck up to his hairline. Sadie’s view was blocked when Ross stepped in between them.
“Out of the way,” her brother growled. “I need to speak with my sister.”
“Not until ye’ve settled down,” Ross said firmly.
She put her hand on her protector’s back. “It’s okay.” Ross’s back was rigid, strong.
“Are ye sure, lass?” As if Oliver might hurt her.
She stepped around him, brushing the Scot’s arm. “I’m sure.”
Oliver jabbed a finger at Ross. “He better not have laid a hand on you.”
Sadie’s cheeks went instantly hot. Ross hadn’t done what Oliver was suggesting, but she had slept wonderfully, wrapped in the Scot’s arms. She couldn’t look up at his handsome face to see if he was remembering, too.
She took a deep breath and squared off with her brother. “Oliver, I’m a grown woman.” She wanted to stomp
her foot, but it wouldn’t help her cause.
“Why didn’t you have your phone on?”
“Sorry. I needed a break.”
“Very mature, Sadie,” Oliver said, slicing her with his words.
Even worse, Ross glanced at her as if he might agree with her brother.
“I didn’t mean for you to worry.”
“But I did.” Oliver ran a hand through his hair. “I’m responsible for you.”
She glanced heavenward. He was giving her the same old story. She’d be wasting her breath to tell him that she could take care of herself.
Oliver captured her arm and pulled. “Come. They’re all waiting for you at Quilting Central.”
She tugged back. “No. I can’t handle it right now. Maybe later.” Or never.
“But this is why you came,” Oliver complained.
“No. I came because you packed my clothes and put me on a plane. If you remember, I was the one who wanted to stay home, in bed, under the covers.”
This whole time, Ross remained quiet. She looked up at him now to gauge what he was feeling.
He stepped forward, her human roadblock once again. “I’ll make sure she gets to the quilting dorm.”
Oliver moved closer, ready to argue.
Sadie stepped between them again. “I’ll be fine, Ollie.” She hadn’t used her pet name for him in years. “I want to lie down for a while.”
It wasn’t his nickname that did the trick. Oliver gazed at her, concerned.
“I’m tired. It’s nothing more than that. Promise.” She and Ross had stayed up very late talking, but she wasn’t going to share that with her overprotective brother. “I’ll see you later. Okay?” But suddenly she was worried about him. “What are you going to do? Work?”
“Deydie, you met her, right? She wants me to help with the computers at Quilting Central. Something about quilting software needing an update. I’m heading there now. Come with me.”
A real yawn produced itself at exactly the right moment. “I can’t. I’m bushed.”
“But we will talk. Tonight.” His bossy brother tone was back.
“Fine.”
Ross reached into the truck and grabbed her purse, holding it out for her. He nodded to Oliver as he passed. Sadie had a weird moment of feeling sad that these two would never get along. But why should she care? She and Oliver were here for only the week. Thinking about the hovering quilters and Quilting Central, a week felt too long. She glanced up at Ross’s kind face . . . and at the same time, a week wasn’t nearly long enough.
Oliver stomped off.
Sadie touched Ross’s arm. “I need something to eat before I head to the dorm.” Her meds were due. “Does the pub have sandwiches?”
“Aye. But instead, I’ll introduce you to Dominic’s pasta at Gandiegow’s restaurant.”
“Thanks. Sounds great.”
As they made their way from the parking lot, she decided to set Ross straight. “You know, my brother would never hurt me. He’s just overprotective.”
“And he has a temper,” Ross added.
“Yes, he does.” She wanted to tell Ross not to worry, but that rang too much of a relationship, which they weren’t in. They’d had their Bonnie and Clyde moment—without the crime—and now they would go their separate ways. Well, after a meal anyway.
At the restaurant, people stared at her, or maybe it was Ross. He was nice to look at. Or more likely they were wondering why he would be with her.
From behind the counter, a strawberry blonde with a baby on her hip hollered to them. “Take a seat and I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks, Claire.”
He chose a table and held out a chair for Sadie. It was crazy, but his attentiveness made it feel like a date . . . which it wasn’t.
As soon as they were settled, Claire hustled over with their menus. The door to the establishment opened and Emma, the therapist, came in with what had to be her family—a tall man who was holding baby Angus. As soon as Emma saw Sadie, determination gathered in her gaze.
Sadie wasn’t up to a lecture about death and healing and it-takes-time. She groaned. Unfortunately, she did it out loud.
“What?” both Ross and Claire said at the same time.
Emma made a beeline for them. Claire must’ve mistaken Emma’s real target, because she held out her baby girl for Emma to take. “I’m glad ye’re here. Can the Wee Bit sit with you while ye’re eating? She’s teething and wants constant attention.”
Emma hugged the girl and kissed her head. “Certainly, Nessa can sit with us. She’s always welcome.”
“I’ll grab a teething ring from the freezer for ye.”
As soon as Claire left, Emma zeroed in on Sadie. “May my husband and I join you?”
What could Sadie say? Sure, as long as you don’t hound me about talking about my grief.
Ross transferred himself to the chair next to Sadie. “Sit here. There’s plenty of room.”
Emma nodded toward her companion. “Sadie, this is my husband, Gabriel. He’s the town’s doctor.”
Sadie nodded. “Oliver mentioned that a physician was in town.” And that he could deliver her hormone shot tomorrow. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Gabriel gave her a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He handed off his boy to Ross. “I’ll get the high chairs and be right back.”
Emma settled in across from Sadie. “This is lovely—a dinner date.”
Lovely? Sadie inwardly cringed. Being cornered at dinner wasn’t her idea of a good time. Ross the Roadblock would undoubtedly not see Emma for the threat that she was and would be no help to Sadie this time.
But Emma surprised her. “I hear you went on an adventure. That’s wonderful. You look refreshed.”
Baby Nessa drooled a smile in Sadie’s direction while Angus in Ross’s arms grabbed at her sleeve.
Gabriel returned with the high chairs and positioned them on either side of himself, which left Emma’s sleeve-grabbing baby next to Sadie. Now he was going for the single-pearl necklace Gigi had given her for her twenty-second birthday.
Sadie loved kids, and truth be told, they loved her. She’d been a very popular babysitter through high school and even college. The counselor at the nephrologist’s office said motherhood wouldn’t be off the table because of Sadie’s kidney transplant. With extra care and monitoring, she could have children like anyone else. But she’d seen Steel Magnolias and what had happened to Shelby when she’d had a baby. Granted, Shelby had the complication of diabetes against her, but Sadie couldn’t help but compare.
Fear and doubt had settled into nearly every thought since her CKD diagnosis last month, weighing her old life against her new reality.
Ross touched her arm.
She faced him. “Yes?”
“Doc MacGregor asked you a question,” Ross said kindly. “Ye looked a million miles away.”
“Sorry.” These moments of zoning out kept intruding and she was embarrassed to appear so unfocused. She was still adjusting to her new life, another side effect of finding out her future was no longer what she thought it would be.
“How is the Highland air treating ye, lass?” Gabriel repeated.
He’d cleverly masked his question of how she was feeling, but there was no need since Oliver had blabbed about her illness to everyone.
“I’m feeling well.” Even on little sleep, which she didn’t add. “When is a good time to stop by your office and get my shot?”
Gabriel gave her another warm smile, understanding that he could speak freely. “Do ye think ye can steal away from the retreat at midmorning? I know Deydie can be pretty possessive of her quilters’ time.”
“It won’t be a problem.” Because Sadie had no intention of returning to Quilting Central.
Ross eyed her as if he knew exactly what she
was thinking.
Sadie diverted her attention to the children. “Nessa and Angus are cute names.”
“Family names.” Gabriel reached for his wife’s hand. “We named our boy after my grandfather.”
The boy reached out, grabbed Sadie’s finger, and shoved it in his mouth.
Emma smoothed down the baby girl’s ginger wisps of hair. “And little Nessa is named after Claire’s mother.”
Sadie couldn’t help but long for the children she would or wouldn’t have. At one time, she’d dreamed of naming a baby girl after Gigi, her feisty grandmother. Her dead feisty grandmother. Sadie studied the menu, hoping Emma wouldn’t see the grief that poured from her like water from the tap.
Thankfully, the rest of the meal was uneventful, except for Nessa dropping her teething ring on the floor and Angus throwing chunks of cheese at Gabriel. The babies were a great distraction from any more talk of Quilting Central, grief counseling, and any number of topics that could make Sadie feel miserable. There was a lot of talk about the upcoming wedding between Moira and Father Andrew. Sadie learned the sad tale of how Moira’s young cousin Glenna had come to live with her because her parents had died in a car accident recently. Sadie felt for Glenna as few others could.
When they were done, Doc and Ross argued over the check, but Claire announced their dinner paid for by way of them babysitting during the evening rush. Claire retrieved Nessa, snuggled the child to her shoulder, and left to see her husband, Dominic, in the kitchen.
Gabriel turned to Sadie, who was playing with Angus. “Speaking of babysitting . . . Sadie, how would ye like to barter? You and baby Angus seem to be getting along famously.”
Sadie liked Gabriel. He didn’t seem to think her crippled because of her CKD.
Emma intervened. “Don’t put our guest in that position.”
Sadie ignored her. “What are you thinking, Doc?” Ross had called him that during dinner. “One shot for an evening out?”
The Trouble with Scotland Page 4