Gabriel smiled at her, and Sadie couldn’t help but think all the Scottish men in this town were a bunch of charmers. Then he turned to his wife, blasting her with such a large dose of smolder that Sadie was surprised when Emma didn’t catch on fire. “I’m in need of an evening alone with my wife. I’d love to take her to Fairge to the cinema or for a drive in the country.”
Emma and Gabriel shared a meaningful glance as if there was a cottage tucked away in the hills waiting for them. Emma blushed then . . . as if she didn’t have the privilege of going home with the gorgeous doctor every night. “That’s a grand idea. You don’t mind, do you, Sadie?”
“Not at all.” As long as she wasn’t to watch Angus at Quilting Central, she would be fine.
Angus started fussing loudly. Gabriel eased him out of the high chair and bounced him. “I think someone wants a different kind of dinner now, Mama.”
Emma stood as well. “Yes. We better get home. Thank you for letting us join you. And thank you for agreeing to watch our son.”
The boy began to wail.
“Ross?” Gabe grabbed the diaper bag. “Give Sadie my cell number. And Sadie, give me a call to make sure I’m in the surgery when ye’re ready to pop over for yere hypodermic.”
“Good night,” Emma said and they left.
Sadie was alone with Ross, except for the other patrons of the restaurant. “Dinner was great.”
“Are ye ready to head to the quilting dorm? Or do you want to sit here for a while longer?”
She thought about Oliver finding her at the restaurant and not resting at the dorm as promised. “We better go.”
She laid her cloth napkin on the table and stood, knowing her special day had come to an end. She thanked Claire for the lovely meal.
Sadie and Ross strolled out into the cool summer air. For the first time, she realized how she’d hijacked Ross’s time. “I bet you’re ready to be rid of me and return to your normal life. I didn’t mean to impose upon you for so long.” They’d spent the last twenty-four hours together.
Ross’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve really enjoyed it.” But he seemed perplexed by his own words.
She didn’t tell him that she enjoyed it, too, but instead concentrated on the waves swooshing against the concrete walkway. Once again they fell into companionable silence as they trod along. When they reached their destination, Thistle Glen Lodge, Ross didn’t leave her at the end of the walk, but went all the way with her onto the porch. When he laid a hand on the doorknob, he didn’t immediately turn it. She faced him, not sure what to say—how to say good-bye. She opened her mouth, but caught a movement from behind him.
“There ye are!” Deydie hollered. “Come on, lassie. Ye need to get to Quilting Central and git to work on yere quilt. We knew ye were back in town and we’ve been waiting the evening session on ye.”
Ross looked at Sadie as if he was checking a barometer. “She’s tired.” How well he’d gotten to know her. “She needs to lie down.” He turned the knob then and held the door open for her.
Deydie glowered at him. “Ye better not be lying down with her, Ross Armstrong.”
He raised one eyebrow at Deydie, looking ready to give her a fierce comeback. But then he seemed to think better of it.
Deydie put her hands on her hips. “And who gave ye permission to take one of my quilters from town anyway?”
Sadie felt forgotten because Deydie’s ire was all on Ross, her champion. Maybe she should’ve slipped inside, but she couldn’t leave him to this old Scottish badger. “I’m to blame. It was my idea to get out of town.”
Deydie shook her head. “He never should’ve done it. Get on inside, lass, if ye’re tired. I’ll have a word with Ross. Alone.”
Sadie looked up at him, not for permission, but to make sure he was going to be okay.
“Good night, lass,” he said resignedly.
Sadie wanted to thank him again properly for the time on the rock, and all he’d done for her—maybe dare to kiss his cheek again—but not with Deydie as an annoyed audience. Anyway, she hadn’t formulated yet what would be a proper thank-you for him being a gentleman. She felt as if she’d made a friend and an ally here in Scotland.
“Good night, Ross.” She slipped inside.
As soon as the door was closed, she heard Deydie light into him, her words clearly sailing through the two opened windows at the front of the quilting dorm.
“That girl is not for the likes of you. Ye need a lass who’s not sickly. Promise me ye won’t be courting her.”
Deydie’s words hit Sadie like a slap and she gasped before she could get her hand to her mouth. She ran down the hall to her bedroom and shut herself inside. She would not cry. She’d known from the first that Ross was out of her league; that’s not where the injury lay. But it had never occurred to her that her CKD would be used against her like this. Her disease had quietly slipped into her life and wreaked havoc with everything and taken away so much. Now the possibility of love fell out of reach, too, another dream shattered because of her worthless kidneys.
Maybe she should’ve waited by the windows to hear Ross’s response to Deydie. But the truth was, Sadie couldn’t bear to hear him agree with the old woman. She dropped on the bed, and drew the quilt over her, before the first tear slid down her cheek. So much for not crying.
She thought about North Carolina, about going home. The only things that waited for her there were an empty house and her job of endless mouths with teeth to clean. Dental hygiene was extremely important. She knew that. It just wasn’t her passion.
She hated every moment in the dentist’s office, scraping tartar and handing out goody bags with toothbrushes and dental floss. But right now, it looked preferable to another second here in Gandiegow.
* * *
Ross’s gaze snapped to the open window when Sadie gasped, and then he turned his glare on Deydie. Of course, he had no interest in the American lass, but at least he had compassion. He’d been taught to respect his elders, but he was raging mad at the town’s matriarch now.
“Did ye hear that? You’ve hurt the lass. And she’s had enough pain, don’t ye think?”
Deydie was a tough nut—bullheaded and single-minded. She glared right back. “I spoke nothing but the truth. She’s not right for ye. Ye’re a strapping lad. Ye need a woman who can be yere match in every way.”
He could almost hear her say like Pippa, but she stopped short of uttering it. For a moment, she seemed to be chewing on her own words, maybe even reconsidering.
While he had the advantage, he said what was on his mind, and to hell with the consequences. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but the only person who is allowed to counsel me on who I court . . . is myself.” He was done doing what Gandiegow told him to do. And didn’t the townsfolk realize he couldn’t be tied down now? He’d never gotten to sow his wild oats, not really, and play the field like a normal bloke. No. He’d always been attached to Pippa. Sort of. He needed to get away from Deydie, and his own thoughts. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on Sadie and make sure she’s okay.”
Deydie harrumphed, but she didn’t stop him from opening the door and going inside.
“Lass?” Ross called out.
“Go away.” The voice was muffled.
He headed to the bedroom and knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
He cracked the door to the darkened room. A ray of light from the hall shone on Sadie as she lay on the twin bed with her face to the wall.
“Are you all right?”
“Grand. Or whatever you Scots say.” The lass had a sarcastic streak, but could he blame her?
He padded across the room. “Scoot over.”
When she didn’t budge, he nudged her with his knee. “I need more room than that. Remember? I’m a big man and this is a small bed. Now, scooch.” When she s
till didn’t move, he slipped his arms underneath her, picked her up, then settled himself on the bed, ignoring her sharp intake of air. She was half-sprawled across his chest.
“Deydie was way off base.” Though he held her close, he wasn’t interested in Sadie, beyond being her friend, but he didn’t want her hurt either. “She never should’ve said what she said. I’m sorry for it.”
Sadie kept her face turned away from him. “Didn’t I say that I’m fine? It doesn’t matter.”
“But it matters to me,” he confessed. He wasn’t going to examine why. He liked holding her in his arms. He liked her being near.
Maybe he could make a career of protecting the lass.
A brilliant idea came to him. “I need yere help, Sadie Middleton.” One where she could focus on something else besides all the tragedies that had befallen her.
She did look up at him then. “What? Me? Help you?”
“Aye.” He brushed back a piece of her hair so he could see her face better. “I want ye to do me a favor.”
“I’m more sleep-deprived than I thought. What could you possibly want from me?”
Ross settled her back to his chest, ready to give voice to the words he hadn’t spoken to anyone. “I’ve been trying to figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
“So there’s another thing we have in common, besides needing to run away every now and then.” The thought contented him somehow. “But what I noticed about you is that when you needed yere time away to sit on yere own, you took it.”
“Oliver would say I was being selfish. And Deydie thinks that plain, little sickly me is out to snare you.” She did her little snort thing that was unladylike, and at the same time, adorable.
“It took conviction to do what you had to do—sit on yere rock and the hell with the rest of the world—and I admire ye for it.”
“Admire me?”
“Aye. I’ve always done what others wanted of me.” Working on the fishing boat and going along with marrying Pippa.
Sadie patted his chest. “I’m no poster child for independence. I became a dental hygienist because Gigi and Oliver decided it would be best. I hate sticking my hands in strangers’ mouths.” She shivered.
And Ross had been engaged to a woman he didn’t love because everyone else thought it was best.
“What is it that ye want to do?” he asked. “That is, if there was no other consideration in the world.”
She guffawed pessimistically. “My biggest fantasy? To read twenty-four hours a day.”
He chuckled. “Lass, ye can’t make a living reading.”
“I know. But I thought if I could become a librarian, then maybe that would satisfy me.” She put her hand up as if he was going to contradict her. “I know librarians don’t sit around reading all day, but at least they get to talk about and think about books for a living. And they get to help people find wonderful books to read. Being a librarian would be the best job in the world.” Her voice hitched.
Now that he had taken her mind off Deydie, he didn’t mean to get her upset in a different direction. “Will ye help me?” He didn’t know if he was asking for her to help him find what he wanted, or to help him not bend to the will of Gandiegow.
“I’ll help. But on one condition.”
“Anything.”
“You have to get Deydie and the others off my back. I’m not going to return to Quilting Central, no matter what. Can you do that for me?”
He kissed the top of her head in answer. He trusted that Sadie knew what was right for herself, and if she thought Quilting Central was going to hamper her in any way, then he was going to run interference for her. For now.
He stared at the far wall, bracing himself. Once Deydie figured out what was going on, she was sure to tear into him again.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said to both of them.
Ross heard a noise at the front of the house. Had someone just come in? Footsteps stalked down the hall. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to get caught in bed together. Sadie seemed to hear it, too, as she stilled and her head cocked to the side to listen. He kissed her head again—not sure why he did it—and slipped from the twin bed.
“Sadie?” It was her damned brother, Oliver. “Are you asleep?”
Ross stood there frozen, hoping he wouldn’t see him.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Aw, hell.”
Oliver flipped on the switch and stomped into the room. “Is this what you meant when you said you would get my baby sister back to the dorm safely?”
Ross glared at her brother. “She’s hardly a baby.” At least he hadn’t caught him in her bed. But it did look incriminating. “It’s not what you think.”
“My ass.” Oliver glared at Sadie. “Have you been crying? What did he do to you?” The chap looked ready to take a swing at Ross.
Before Sadie could say anything, the front door slammed again with more footsteps down the hall.
“Lass?” It was Deydie, dammit. “I came to make sure that ye’re . . .” The old woman peered around Oliver.
Sadie scrambled out of bed, muttering, “Grand Central Station.” She swiped the hair from her face.
Deydie forced her way past Oliver. “Why’ve ye been crying?” She glared up at Ross as if he’d brought on Sadie’s tears.
He held his hands up. “Don’t blame me. Ye’re the one with the barbed tongue.”
Deydie didn’t get a chance to rip him apart because Oliver turned to the town’s matriarch. “Is this how things are run around here? Anyone can get in my sister’s bedroom whenever they want?”
“Now wait a minute,” Ross interjected.
Sadie shaded to the color of a deep-sea redfish.
Ross was in a strange position and not sure what to do next. He could tell Oliver what Deydie had said and how he was only checking on the lass, but he had no real explanation why he was in her bedroom with the lights out.
Deydie glowered at Ross and jabbed a finger at the bedroom door. “Ye better get home.”
This time, he didn’t mind doing what Deydie told him to do, but he hesitated anyway. He faced Sadie.
“Are ye going to be all right?” In other words, did she want him to hang around and sort things out for her?
With still-watery eyes she gazed up at him. “I’ll be fine.” She spun on her brother. “Nothing happened. Ross is a gentleman with a capital G. You ought to apologize for accusing him of something he didn’t do.” Her eyes fell on Deydie, but she seemed to bite back whatever retort she wanted to deliver in that direction.
Ross’s feet wouldn’t move, not until he did something more for Sadie. “Deydie, our little quilter here is a guest in our town. Don’t you think we should treat her like one?”
Oliver’s gaze went from face to face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aye.” Deydie patted Oliver’s arm in a more grandmotherly way than Ross had ever seen her treat her own granddaughter, Cait. “Everything is okay here, lad. Let me have a few minutes alone with yere sister.”
He was surprised when Oliver nodded his head in agreement.
Ross wanted to reach out to Sadie and squeeze her shoulder, or something, because he hated leaving her alone with Deydie. But at least the old quilter seemed to want to make things right. He just hoped she wouldn’t do it in a way that would cause more harm, as Deydie had a tendency to do.
“’Night, lass,” Ross said instead. He felt sure this was the end of whatever friendship he’d started with her, no matter the promises they’d made to help each other. Deydie would get the lass back to Quilting Central and Sadie would have no need of him. Sadness hit him hard as if he’d been blindsided by a wave. But he should’ve seen it coming.
Chapter Four
Sadie crossed t
he room and pulled her robe from the armoire while Deydie waited with her hands in her skirt pockets, as uneasy as Lucifer at church. Suddenly Sadie was bone tired. She never should’ve zapped her reserves the way that she had.
Deydie stood before her, still a force to be reckoned with but now with a hint of compassion in her eyes. “Ye see, lass, I’ve been busy with this wedding. I never meant to—”
Sadie put her hand up. “Don’t worry about it.” The old woman had only been speaking the truth. “Let’s just forget it ever happened. I’m going to bed.”
The double crease between Deydie’s eyebrows relaxed. “Ye do look peaked. I’m going to make ye a cup of chamomile before I go.” She hustled to the door, but stopped. “I’ll let ye out of the quilting session tonight, but I’ll expect ye at Quilting Central first thing in the morn.”
Don’t hold your breath. But Sadie kept the thought to herself.
Deydie scrutinized Sadie in silence, then finally exited without a word.
Sadie flipped on the small lamp beside her bed, already missing Ross’s presence. She’d grown quite accustomed to him, but she’d have to sleep alone tonight. She shut the door, pulled off her dress, and donned her purple plaid pajamas. She was too weary to go in search of the kitchen and the promised tea. She flipped off the light, climbed into bed, and fell fast asleep.
Her rest was fitful as her mind whirled with storms, and the strong arms that were there to save her were just out of reach.
By morning time, she had a plan to get out of the Kilts and Quilts retreat. If Deydie was going to use Sadie’s kidney disease against her, then she was going to use it right back—in her favor. She would feign sickness to get out of spending time with the ladies who reminded her too much of Gigi. She hadn’t pretended to be ill since she was in grade school, holding the thermometer under the hot water faucet, right after her parents had died. But she was playing sick today, using the time to stay in bed to read.
Through the wall, female voices and laughter seeped in as the dorm came alive with movement and excitement. Sadie worried one of the women might take it upon themselves to rouse her, but when no one did, she realized Deydie had told them to let her rest for a while.
The Trouble with Scotland Page 5