The Husband Maker Boxed Set

by White, Karey

  Graham barely nodded, but it was enough to let me know he was listening. “Does your brother have the same parents as you?” Graham’s nod became a little bigger, and I made my voice a little softer. “And he’s married.”

  “I know. I watched them this trip with their little boy, and I felt like such a failure.”

  “So don’t fail. Find someone to love and then take a leap of faith.”

  Graham looked shell-shocked. “Is Mia . . .” His voice trailed off, and then he tried again. “Is Mia involved with someone?”

  “No. She’s dated a few people, but none of them have stuck.” Graham looked relieved. “But Graham, please don’t show up on our doorstep again unless you’re ready to commit to her. You’ve hurt her enough.”

  “I know.”

  “Sorry to be hard on you, but—“

  “Charlotte, you don’t have to explain. I know.”

  We ate in silence for several minutes, and then Graham leaned back in his chair, his thoughts far away. Probably in San Francisco.

  “Listen,” I said, scooting to the edge of my chair. “I’m going to head over to my gate.”

  Graham pulled himself out of his thoughts and stood up. “Sure. Thanks, Charlotte. It was good to see you.”

  “You too. I’m not going to tell Mia I saw you.” There was no way I wanted to get her hopes up when Graham was so unpredictable.

  “I understand. Have a good trip.”

  I was a couple of gates away when I glanced back at Graham. He was sitting back down, his head resting in his hand.

  It had been a month since I had told Flynn I was coming. If I’d had a passport, I would have booked a flight and left the night of my birthday. Even though I paid for an expedited passport, it had still taken more than three weeks.

  It was good I hadn’t been able to leave immediately. Waiting a month made me feel better about the trip. It gave me time to convince myself that I wasn’t running away from something. And it had given Flynn and me time to come to a clear understanding. As I boarded my plane, I realized I was excited to see him. I was thrilled to see Scotland. I had poured over travel websites and had decided this was just what I needed. I would spend two days in Glasgow before flying to Stornoway. Flynn had offered to meet me in Glasgow and be my tour guide, but I wanted to do it alone. There would be plenty of time for him to be a guide once I arrived on the Isle of Lewis.

  I managed to get a few hours of sleep on the plane, and I arrived in Glasgow early in the morning. A short cab ride later, I was at The Hotel Glasgow. It was too early to check in so the concierge took care of my luggage while I waited in the lobby to meet my tour.

  I laughed to myself as my fellow travelers gathered together. I would have to tell McKayla she had been right. She had teased me when I had shown her the tour I was taking.

  “You’re going to be traveling with a bunch of retirees,” she had said. “You’ll probably be the only one under sixty.”

  The only thing she had been wrong about is the number of us who weren’t retired. There were three of us—me, a blonde in her thirties who looked to be the young trophy wife of an elderly man who looked like Larry King but with thicker glasses, and her son, a boy of about twelve. At first I had thought she was the old man’s daughter, but that misconception was quickly erased when they kissed. It was a messy, gag-inducing kiss that made me quickly look away. The poor boy looked like he wanted to make a run for the door.

  I had never traveled by myself, and I felt a surge of pride at my independence. Mom and Dad hadn’t been thrilled about it. That’s when I had agreed to book real tours instead of renting a car and setting off by myself. It was a reasonable compromise, and I’d had fun picking the tours I would take.

  “Welcome to Highland Tours,” said a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair, pale green eyes, and a plaid bowtie. “If you’ll follow me to the coach, we’ll be on our way.”

  I didn’t care where I sat as long as I didn’t have a view of Mr. King and his arm candy. I dropped into the first available seat and scooted over to the window. I was sliding my purse under my seat when a pair of purple running shoes stopped in the aisle beside me.

  “Is someone joining you?” I didn’t have to look up very far to see the diminutive woman who spoke. I could tell by her accent that she was American, probably from somewhere in the east. Her gray hair was styled in a short, messy pixie cut that would have made a Hollywood celebrity proud. She wore a purple, velour track suit, her nails were painted purple and the lenses of her glasses had a purple tint.

  “Nope. It’s just me.”

  “Do you mind?” She pointed at the spot next to me.

  “Not at all.”

  “Thank you.” She settled into the seat, her feet a couple of inches off the floor. She really was tiny.

  She turned to me once she had stowed her lavender bag under the seat and put out her hand. “I’m Lucy.”

  “I’m Charlotte,” I said, shaking her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Charlotte.” She lowered her glasses and peered at me closely. “I’m traveling alone because my Frank died last year. What’s your excuse?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do I need an excuse?”

  “I suppose not. You kids do all kinds of things we’d have been afraid of when I was your age.”

  “You don’t seem afraid right now.”

  She patted my arm with her violet-nailed hand. “Don’t be fooled. I’m plenty afraid. I’m just blustering my way through the fear.” She turned in her seat and craned her neck to see the other passengers. “Frank made me promise I would come do this, so here I am.”

  “He made you promise to travel?”

  “Not just anywhere. Here. To Scotland. We talked about this trip for years—we both have ancestors from here—but then Frank up and died two months before he was supposed to retire.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. But a promise is a promise, so here I am.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to our tour today. My name is Margaret, and I’m happy to be sharing our lovely country with you. Our first stop will be Inveraray Castle. This beautiful castle is the ancestral home of the Duke of Argyll, the chief of the Clan Campbell. To get to Inveraray, we’ll be driving through Loch Lomond National Park, but don’t worry when we don’t stop. We’ll make a few stops in the park on our way back. After we tour the castle, we’ll eat lunch at the King George Pub. It’s a cloudy day, but with a little luck, we’ll all stay dry. To your left is The University of Glasgow. It boasts one of the oldest and largest university libraries in all of Europe, with more than two and a half million books and journals.”

  It was more than an hour from Glasgow to the castle. Many of the buildings we passed had been there for hundreds of years. It was crazy to think that some of these homes had been built before settlers had even discovered gold in California. Even America’s oldest places were new when you compared them to Scotland.

  “When we arrive at the castle, you’re welcome to take the formal tour or you can wander the castle and grounds on your own. We would just ask that ya not go behind any of the roped off areas. Be back on the bus at 1:00 or we’ll have to leave ya, and you’ll miss out on lunch at the King George Pub.”

  “Are you taking the tour?” Lucy asked as we exited the bus.

  “I think I’m going to take off on my own,” I said.

  “Good for you.” Lucy gave an energetic fist pump. “If I don’t run into you in the castle, I’ll see you back on the bus.”

  The sky was overcast, the air humid but warmer than I had expected after riding in the air-conditioned coach. My feet crunched in the tiny gravel that covered the narrow road that led to the castle.

  The Inveraray Castle sat on a rise overlooking the River Aray. Behind the castle, rolling, tree-covered hills disappeared into the low-lying clouds. The gray stone structure was surrounded by gardens bursting with colorful flowers.

  The interior of the castle was grand and ornate an
d filled with Scottish history. The crest of the Campbell Clan could be seen in artwork throughout the castle and their signature plaid was even used on one of the large canopy beds.

  While the castle was certainly beautiful, there was something about the grounds that called to me. I wandered through the flowering gardens down a path bordered by sculpted shrubs that opened onto a sloping lawn so green, it almost looked artificial. Beyond the lawn was the Aray River and a beautiful stone bridge. l started across the grass.

  Even though clouds covered the sun, it didn’t take long before the exertion of my walk made me warm. I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist. I liked the smell in the air—grassy and earthy.

  A couple of tourists smiled and greeted me as they walked back to the castle. By the time I reached the water’s edge, there were only a couple of other people by the river.

  I touched the ground to see if it was damp and finding it dry, I sat down. The only sound was the river. It was so quiet and peaceful. I looked back at the castle. It was certainly beautiful and impressive, but if I lived here, I would want a pretty stone cottage down here by the water.

  I sat cross-legged for quite a while, thinking about my life in San Francisco. How had things gone so wrong? A year ago my life had been nearly perfect—a great job, a handsome boyfriend, and Angus, my best friend. I still had the job, but the boyfriend was gone and Angus seemed completely lost to me, which meant Aleena was probably leaving my life, as well. If they fell in love and married, how could I ever be around them knowing what had happened and what Angus had said. I would probably still see them on occasion, but it wouldn’t be comfortable or easy.

  My mind wandered for the thousandth time to The Kiss. That’s what I called it now. With capital letters. Even though Angus wasn’t my first kiss, his was the only one that regularly crept into my mind. If I heard someone say the word “kiss,” Angus’s kiss in my parents’ living room is the one I thought of. It could have been a perfect kiss if it hadn’t been a betrayal of Aleena, and if it hadn’t robbed me of Angus’s friendship, and if I hadn’t been too stunned to know what was happening. I sighed. It had felt like a perfect kiss in spite of all that. At least for a moment.

  Now that I wasn’t walking, the cool air started to feel chilly. Goose bumps rose on my arms and I shivered. I could have put my jacket back on but I liked the slightly unpleasant feeling. It distracted me from The Kiss and seemed to anchor me in Scotland. I was here, far away from my years of heartache and problems and disappointments. Now if only I could avoid creating more. I looked at my cell phone and decided I had time to walk over the bridge.

  It had been a lovely day. Lunch at the King George Pub had been fun. Margaret had told us the décor hadn’t changed in a couple of centuries. We had sat at a wooden table so old that time and the hands of the many people who had eaten there had polished it as smooth as glass. She said the pale, velvet curtains had once been a deep maroon. We ate chicken pies with the flakiest crust I had ever eaten.

  We stopped a few times to admire the sites in Loch Lomond National Park as we returned to Glasgow. I was eager to get some dinner to eat in my room and then fall into bed.

  We were almost to the hotel when Lucy put her hand on my arm. “If you don’t have plans for dinner, Charlotte, I would love for you to join me. I really hate eating alone. I can just imagine everyone watching me and feeling sorry for me.”

  I watched the quiet dinner I had been looking forward to disappear. How could I turn down this sweet woman who was fulfilling a promise to her husband? “That would be nice. I’d planned on eating at the restaurant in our hotel. Does that sound okay?”

  “I ate there last night and it was underwhelming. I asked Ian, the concierge, where he would suggest, and he recommended City Merchant. He says they have the best seafood in town. Oh, I don’t know if you like seafood.”

  “I love seafood.”

  “Oh good. I thought maybe we could go there, if you’re game.”

  I smiled. “That sounds great.”

  We parted ways at the hotel to change for dinner. I unlocked the door and saw my room for the first time. It was small, but comfortable and surprisingly modern, considering the age of the hotel. My bags were waiting neatly in front of the tiny dresser in the corner. I changed into a gray skirt and a red sweater, freshened up my makeup and brushed my teeth. Since I had fifteen minutes to spare before I was to meet Lucy in the lobby, I sent a quick email telling my family I had arrived safely, stretched out on the bed, and dialed Flynn’s number.

  That was a mistake. Not the calling Flynn part. The bed part. The pillows were fluffy and crisp, the bed soft and comfortable.

  “Hullo.” Flynn sounded close. I knew it was crazy to think it was because I was less than three hundred miles away from Stornoway. He probably didn’t sound any different than if I had talked to him on a phone at home instead of Skyping.

  “Hi Flynn. I’m in your country.”

  “Brilliant. And how do ya like it?”

  “Today was wonderful. I went to Inveraray Castle and The King George Pub and I’m now getting ready to go to City Merchant with a cute, little purple woman I met on my tour.”

  “You met one of our famous purple people?”

  I laughed. “Actually, she is one of our famous purple people. She’s American.”

  “And I thought we had the corner on purple people.”

  “Right now I’m wishing she hadn’t invited me. I’m so tired and this bed is so comfortable.”

  “Hopefully your friend won’t want to go hit the clubs after dinner.”

  “I think I’m safe. She’s got to be in her sixties, at least.”

  “A sixty year old with purple hair?”

  “Her hair’s not purple, but just about everything else is. She has purple glasses and shoes and clothes. Even her fingernails are painted purple.”

  “Your mission tonight is to find out why she likes purple so much. You can fill me in tomorrow.”

  “Ooh, a mission. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come, Charlotte.”

  “Me too.”

  “We’re going to have a grand time, and you’re going to feel like a new person.” Why was it so easy for Flynn to read me?

  “Why do you think I need to feel like a new person? What’s wrong with the old person?” I was trying to tease, but as soon as the words were out, I knew they had come across more needy and desperate and distraught than I had meant. My ability to flirt and tease seemed to have died. Or at least it was hanging by a thread.

  “There’s nothing at all wrong with the old Charlotte. Except that she needs this vacation.”

  I sighed. “And a good night’s sleep.” I looked at the clock beside the bed. “It looks like I’d better go meet Lucy.”

  “Enjoy your dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Tomorrow night. A few months ago, I hadn’t met Flynn, and the thought of traveling to Scotland hadn’t even entered my mind. Now here I was, traveling alone, seeing new places and having new experiences. Maybe this would be where I would finally find peace and happiness and healing.

  I didn’t immediately see Lucy when I stepped out of the elevator. She wasn’t sitting on one of the overstuffed sofas near the fireplace or standing by the front doors. And then something purple caught my eye. Lucy stood in the far corner of the lobby talking to the concierge. She had changed from her purple track suit to a flowing purple dress. An ivory scarf with purple flowers was tied like a headband around her hair, the scarf ends trailing down her back. She looked elegant and stylish.

  “Ian says the restaurant is about six blocks away. I thought maybe we could walk and then take a cab back, since it will be dark when we finish dinner. Unless you’re too tired. If you’d prefer, we can take a cab both ways.”

  “I don’t mind walking.” If Lucy could walk the six blocks after a long day, so could I.

  “Thank you, Ian.” Lucy said. “You’ve been a dear.”

/>   “Have a good evening, ma’am. Miss.” He nodded toward me.

  The sunshine must have been saving its energy all day so it could put on a show this evening. It danced through trees and sparkled against windows. In some places it seemed to be doing the limbo as it slanted under fences and fit into impossible corners. It painted the sidewalk with our long, abstract shadows and dazzled us with colorful pink and purple clouds before it finally bowed its way off the stage.

  “I wish Frank could have seen this. He always wanted to come to Glasgow. His mother was born here and lived here until she married an American that was stationed here during the war. I had a cab take me by the house she lived in yesterday. Nothing too exciting, but when you know his mother lived there, it makes it special.”

  “I’m sure he would be glad to know you came to see it.”

  “Yes, he would have. My great-grandmother lived in Wallyford, just outside Edinburgh, so I’m heading there tomorrow.”

  “How did your husband die?”

  “He died during open heart surgery. But he would have died without it, too, so it was a chance we had to take.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I miss him. He was a good man.”

  City Merchant had a pretty, teal-blue façade. Stained glass windows that featured bright yellow fish swimming through the ocean cast colorful spots on the sidewalk.

  The hostess seated us at a little table by the front window where we could watch the people on the street. I realized they could see us as well when a man winked at me and a little girl waved. Lucy waved and smiled and seemed comfortable being on display.

  “You look nice tonight. I love your scarf,” I said.

  Lucy patted the scarf lightly. “Thank you. Frank always liked it when I dressed up, so I’m trying to look nice. Just in case he’s watching me take this trip.” She blew a kiss toward heaven.

  “You really like purple, don’t you?”

  She leaned across the table like she was sharing a secret, and I knew I might be about to succeed at my mission. “Just after Frank and I were married, he gave me a purple dress. It was so purple it almost hurt your eyes, and I couldn’t imagine wearing so much purple at once, but I hugged him and thanked him anyway. Then he said, ‘You look so beautiful when you wear your purple sweater, I knew I had to get this for you when I saw it.’ And you know what, he was right. I always got compliments when I wore that sweater, and I got compliments when I wore that dress. Every time Frank bought me clothes, he bought purple, and pretty soon I started to choose that color. Now, more than forty years later, that’s about all I have. My grandkids keep their grandmothers straight by calling me the purple grandma.”