Blame It on Scotland

Home > Other > Blame It on Scotland > Page 19
Blame It on Scotland Page 19

by Patience Griffin


  “Deydie’s coming here?”

  “Aye. She’ll probably bring half the quilters with her.”

  Andrew stepped forward and smiled. “Be lucky the hospital has strict visiting hours or else they’d be camping out in yere room for the duration.”

  Tuck positioned himself at the foot of Ryn’s bed and touched her blanket. “Ye should rest, lass.”

  “Aye,” Andrew said. “We better go.” He nodded toward Tuck. “We’re going to step in and see John first. To see how he’s feeling.” Andrew acted as if Tuck’s interior was made up of eggshells, especially where John was concerned.

  “I’ll stay here with the lass.”

  Andrew and Moira said goodbye and left.

  Tuck sat in the chair next to Ryn’s bed. “Rest. If Gandiegow is descending upon ye, then you’ll need yere strength.”

  She reached out and took Tuck’s hand. “Thank you for everything.” She held onto him and closed her eyes. Holding his hand comforted her and she planned to milk being sick for all it was worth.

  What felt like moments later, she woke, hearing whispers around her in the hospital room. She opened her eyes and couldn’t believe the clock showed three hours had passed. Also, she couldn’t believe the crowd in her room. She looked up at Tuck who stood near her head. Deydie, Bethia, Cait, Sophie, Rowena, and Sinnie were there. Surprisingly, Lara, the clerk from Ryn’s first day in Whussendale, was there as well, standing toward the back.

  Deydie waddled over to her. “Yere coloring looks better. When will ye up and at it?”

  “Gran,” Cait said as if trying to curb Deydie.

  “She doesn’t know,” Tuck answered. “Doc hasn’t said.” He looked as if he was contemplating leaving and Ryn wondered if he planned to get a nurse for riot control.

  Bethia patted her hand. “Ye poor dear. Ye’ve had a rough day.”

  “She certainly looked rough this morn,” Deydie jabbed.

  “What my Gran’s getting at is that you were missed this afternoon.” Cait put her hand on her rounded stomach. “I took over for you. I hope that was okay.”

  But Ryn was fixated on Cait’s baby bump. All the old memories of being pregnant and upset came back. The shock. The dread of telling her mother. Being conflicted about what to do. Then after the abortion, her feelings had congealed into a stew of emotions she was certain she’d never sort out.

  Ryn glanced up at Tuck, but he didn’t seem as if he’d read her mind just then. And hopefully he hadn’t read the medical form she’d filled out either, where she’d written down abortion under previous medical procedures.

  Tuck laid a hand on Ryn’s shoulder, reminding her she hadn’t answered Cait’s question.

  “Yes. Thank you for taking over and teaching the rest of my workshop.” She cleared her throat, as it was still scratchy from surgery. “Thank you all for coming to visit.”

  Deydie pulled Rowena and Sinnie forward. “We have a gift for ye.”

  Sinnie handed her a tissue wrapped bundle. “I hope ye like it.”

  Ryn unwrapped the small lap quilt. Bright colors were mixed with earthy tones, which seemed to fit how she was feeling right now. The quilt was backed with Minky, the softest fabric ever.

  “It’s a comfort quilt,” Deydie said. “The lassies were making it as a charity quilt, but we decided ye needed it more.”

  Ryn’s heart swelled at their thoughtfulness. She held the fabric to her cheek. “I love it. Thank you.” Never in her life did Ryn have this many people care about her at once. When she’d had her tonsils out at eight, her mother and Granny Kay were there for her. When she was recovering from her abortion, her mother gave her soup, but then mostly left her alone.

  Rowena handed her a card. “Ye can look at it later. We all signed it—both the Gandiegow quilters and the Whussendale lassies, too.”

  Ryn scanned the room, feeling right and whole, despite having surgery only a few hours before. For the first time in her life, she felt like she belonged.

  Bethia caressed her arm. “Are ye all right?”

  Ryn blinked away the tears.

  But before she could say anything, Deydie was at her side again, taking the Comfort quilt from Ryn and spreading it over her legs. “The lass is fine. Now, everyone get out. She needs her rest.”

  For the care Deydie was taking, as she made sure Ryn had her hand on the soft Minky, Ryn was softening toward the old woman pretty quickly. Which was a shock.

  “Thank you.” Ryn said.

  Deydie smoothed out an edge. “’Tis nothing.”

  Ryn glanced up at Tuck to see if he’d seen how nice Deydie was being to her. Also, she wondered if he was going to leave, too, for surely everyone get out—which Deydie had said—included him, too. Ryn hoped he wouldn’t go.

  Deydie stared at Ryn shrewdly and then looked at Tuck with a hard gaze. “Ye, too, scoundrel. Out. We need to talk about the car. Some of the lassies want to do some shopping here in Inverness, while others of us need to get back to Gandiegow.”

  Tuck laid a hand on Ryn’s shoulder, and she believed he would ignore Deydie’s decree and stay.

  She was also more awake and with it now. She wondered where she might go when discharged from the hospital. A hotel, until she was healed enough to make her next move?

  “And Ryn,” Deydie said. “It’s all been decided. Ye’ll not infirm in Gandiegow. Ye’ll be headed off to Whussendale when Doc says ye can go home. ’Twas the steps to the room over the pub that made the decision.”

  Ryn was relieved she didn’t have to stay in a hotel that she couldn’t afford. “Thanks.” She wouldn’t let herself worry just yet over what the surgery would cost either.

  Tuck squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll not be long. Do as Deydie says and rest.”

  That earned him an appreciative nod from Deydie before she spun and left the room.

  Surprisingly, Tuck leaned down and gently brushed his lips over her. When he walked away, he seemed reluctant to leave. Or it could’ve just been her overactive imagination.

  She fell back to sleep and woke to see Tuck dozing in the chair beside her. The lights had been dimmed in the room and it was dark outside. Tuck must’ve sensed she was awake because he opened his eyes, too.

  “Do ye need something to drink?” He leaned forward and grabbed her cup, holding it out to her.

  “Thank you.” She took it from him. “You didn’t have to stay.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” He sat back watching her.

  “When do you have to head to Gandiegow? Soon?”

  He shook his head. “Ross texted. I’m not working the boat today. Besides, I have no way of getting there. Deydie took the car and I chose to stay here instead of hitching a ride back to Whussendale with Sophie and the group.”

  “Sleeping in that chair can’t be comfortable,” she said.

  “Aye. But my only alternative is to climb into bed with you.” He scanned the length of the hospital bed. “There’s not enough room.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him she’d make room, but clamped her lips together. She was too vulnerable right now, feeling way too close to him. Cuddling up against his warm body and leaning on him emotionally would be wonderful. But too intimate, in her state of mind.

  He took her hand and kissed it. “Stop worrying, lass. I was only teasing ye about the bed. I’m fine right where I am.”

  The next time Ryn woke, the nurse was coming in to check her vitals and her incisions, and Tuck was gone. He returned with a cup of coffee and with Doc MacGregor right behind him.

  Doc discreetly took a peek at her three incisions and declared, “Everything looks good. Ye’re going home this afternoon. Does that work?”

  “Aye,” Tuck said, before taking a sip. “Sophie and Hugh said they’ll come and pick us up when she’s discharged.”

  “She’s going back to Whussendale?” Doc asked.

  “Maggie’s in Whussendale and Ryn is Maggie’s cousin,” Tuck explained. “Also, the wome
n of the villages got together and decided. Apparently, there was quite a tug-a-war over who would get to keep Ryn.”

  Doc nodded. “Ah, I see.” He smiled down at her. “The nurse will go over your discharge instructions in detail with you later on.” He looked from one to the other of them. “Ye can return to normal activities in two to four weeks. No heavy lifting. You may seem fine, but ye need to heal internally. Just use good judgement.” He gave Tuck a pointed look. “I mean it. No strenuous activity for the first two to four weeks.”

  Ryn knew what Doc was referring to and her cheeks heated up, blazing, as if in front of a roaring campfire. “I-I…no-no…” she stuttered. She wanted to tell Doc he’d misunderstood. And the misunderstanding was all Tuck’s fault. Her gorgeous bedside companion had been paying way too much attention to her. Not that she minded Tuck’s company. Hand-holding. And a few kisses. Doc just seemed to think things between her and Tuck were more than they were.

  Doc closed her chart. “I’ll pop over to Whussendale in a week’s time to see how ye’re doing. Promise to call if you have any questions before then.”

  “I will.”

  After Doc left, she and Tuck chatted for a while and then she slept some more. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever be able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time.

  After her lunch was delivered, the shift nurse explained how to care for her incisions and what to expect over the next week and beyond. The nurse shooed Tuck out of the room so Ryn could dress.

  When he returned, he looked very unhappy.

  “What?” Ryn said, while looking down at yesterday’s outfit. It didn’t fit so well, as her stomach was distended from the gas they’d pumped into her to do the surgery. She was grateful she’d worn a dress.

  Tuck shook his head. “It’s not you. There’s been a change in plans.”

  * * *

  Dammit! Would his bad luck never end? Tuck took out his phone, bracing himself for the bad news he knew was already there, and read Ross’s text message to Ryn. “I’m bringing the van from Gandiegow to pick up Ryn and John. Sophie agrees it’s the best plan. Hold tight. Will text when I arrive.”

  Tuck kicked himself now for not accepting the ride back to Whussendale from Sophie yesterday, when he’d had the chance.

  “Why are you upset?”

  “Well, ye wanted to know more about Maggie. I guess ye’ll be meeting John.” Though he didn’t want to, it was past time he confessed to Ryn what he’d done to Maggie’s husband. “I have good reason for not wanting to share an automobile ride with John. And I’m sure he feels the same way.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my fault he’s maimed,” Tuck admitted.

  Ryn didn’t look shocked, only circumspect. “How?”

  Tuck told her the truth, everything—from leaving the pub in time, to taking a nap, to finding Raymond, clutching his chest in his stopped car in the middle the road. Tuck finished with how he’d heard the news about John and how everyone blamed him. And God help him, he even told her about why he’d taken on extra work, so he could funnel money to John and Maggie…something he hadn’t shared with anyone but her.

  Ryn listened and didn’t seem horrified in the least of the terrible thing he’d done to John and his family. She took his hand and rubbed it, as if trying to bring the circulation back to his existence. “Tuck, the only thing you did wrong was to do the right thing. You didn’t make it to the boat on time and you have a good excuse. From what you’ve said, it seems to me John’s injury isn’t your fault at all.”

  “But don’t ye see? I’m known for cutting it close and being late. It’s a horrible flaw to have. I even missed Andrew’s wedding because I missed the ferry.” He could’ve shared why he hated weddings, but he didn’t.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, so missing your brother’s wedding isn’t great. But the question is have you been late to anything since John’s accident?”

  “No.” But he wasn’t happy Ryn didn’t see the truth about him. Everyone in Gandiegow did.

  Ryn held his hand to her heart, which made his own heart skip a beat.

  “I think you should forgive yourself. Otherwise, whenever you hear John’s name, you’re going to be miserable. And if he’s going to live in Whussendale, and with you there, too, don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet?”

  Tuck liked the earnestness in Ryn’s blue-gray eyes. He liked how she held his hand against her chest. But he wasn’t ready to let his sins go. Perhaps because John, Maggie, and Gandiegow would never let him forget the horrible thing he’d done.

  She moved their clasped hands to her thigh. “You know, John has to take most of the responsibility in what happened. It sounds like he was messing around with a piece of equipment when he really should’ve had some backup there while he did it.”

  Tuck was frustrated with her, so he concentrated on her thigh. “I don’t think ye have the right of it, but now, at least ye know.”

  She looked over at him with what looked like pity. “I think I’ll take a nap until it’s time to leave.”

  He let go of her hand and went to the window to look out. The sky was gray, which matched his mood. He imagined John’s mood would be just as dark. At least Ross would be there. Not as a buffer, per say. In the past, Ross had a way of using his calm demeanor to smooth out John’s tough captain’s exterior. Maybe the ride to Whussendale wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Later at the front entrance, while waiting for Ross to pull up, Tuck tamped down all his emotions and didn’t even move an eyelash when John was wheeled up and parked right next to Ryn. They were quite the ill-matched bunch. And Tuck had to admit, This is going to be the longest effing ride of my life!

  Ross hopped out and ran up to John as he was wheeled out. When he reached out to guide John into the front seat, John jerked away.

  “I’m not an invalid,” he snarled.

  Tuck tried to put John out of his mind as he carefully helped Ryn in through the side door and settled her in her seat. He climbed in, too. “Lean on me, lass,” he said quietly.

  Once they were all buckled in, Ross did his damnedest to engage John, but his attempts only made John’s mood darker and the ride more uncomfortable. After several more tries, Ross gave up and they made the rest of the trip in awkward silence.

  Just as they were pulling down the lane to Kilheath Castle, Ross’s phone rang. “Hallo.” He paused. “We’re almost there. We’ll be out front in a few minutes.”

  Ryn was fast asleep, so Tuck gently woke her by whispering. “We’re home.”

  Ryn opened her eyes and looked around sleepily.

  They drove past the wool mill and made the trek down the hill, along the curve, and then up the hill again to the castle. When it came into view, Tuck saw a group standing outside.

  “The welcoming committee,” Ross said cheerfully.

  John growled.

  Ross looked over at his brother with concern, but didn’t acknowledge John’s feral mood. He pulled the van to a stop and Tuck counted off the assembly—Maggie, Dand, Hugh, Sophie holding Irene, and a few others from the wool mill, plus one person he didn’t know.

  “What’s my mother-in-law doing here?” John barked.

  “I’ll let Maggie tell ye,” Ross said.

  “No. You tell me!” John said.

  “From what I was told, Coira packed up and came to help Maggie with the bairns.”

  And to help with John, too, Tuck thought.

  “Nay,” John said. “Coira’s come to torture me.”

  Ross tried to smooth things over. “I expect she’s lonely with her husband gone.” Ross’s message was clear: John have some compassion.

  “Why didn’t Maggie tell me?”

  “Probably afraid she’d upset ye,” Ross said.

  “You think!” John’s mood from the hospital to here felt like a sunny picnic compared to his mood now.

  Tuck took Ryn’s hand and squeezed, hoping to protect her against the bad vibes
John was putting off.

  John glared at Ross. “And the rest of them? What are they doing outside?”

  “Don’t ruin it for them,” Ross said quietly. “They care about you.” He paused. “We all do.”

  Ross jumped out and ran around to John’s side of the van, as if to open his door. But John managed on his own with only mild fumbling.

  John was barely to his feet before Dand ran to him. “Da!” He hugged his legs.

  John patted him, but the action seemed more like he was swatting him away. “Enough of that now.”

  Maggie walked to him, beaming. “We’re glad ye’re home.”

  John examined his surroundings and his expression was clear: This isn’t my home!

  Tuck had to hand it to Maggie, who was putting on a great act. She looped her arm through her husband’s, pretending John was as happy to be there as she pretended she was. “We’ve planned a welcome home dinner. Dand even made party hats.”

  John’s answer was a grunt.

  Tuck got out and Sophie joined him at the side of the van. She leaned in. “Ryn, I’ve made up a room for ye, if you would like to stay here with us at Kilheath.”

  Ryn looked over at Tuck with semi-pleading eyes. He understood. The castle wasn’t big enough to give her space from the Armstrongs’s drama.

  “Nay. Ryn would like to stay in the potter’s cottage,” Tuck said, as if the two of them had discussed it at great lengths. “She’ll be more comfortable there, being it’s cozy and all. A better place for her to heal.” He paused, giving Sophie his attention. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll keep an eye on her in the evenings, if ye’ll have someone check in on her during the day while I’m gone.”

  Ryn cleared her throat, as though making herself known. “Is that okay with you, Sophie?”

  Sophie’s gaze bounced from one to the other of them. “Certainly. That’s fine. I’ll be happy to get someone to check in on you.” Her eyes lit with merriment and he knew her next words were meant to taunt him. “I’m sure Declan could spare an hour or so and would be happy to do it, while ye’re away, Tuck.”

 

‹ Prev