Bethia noticed and wrapped her arm around her friend. “She’ll give ye a great-grandbairn, just ye wait and see.”
Pippa only half listened. Pregnant?
She glanced up. Max was making his way toward them. His frown was etched deep into his face.
He reached them. “I don’t understand. Ailsa said Bethia won me?”
Deydie sliced the air, gesturing to the kilt Max wore. “Ye and Ross thought ye were being funny, huh?”
Max’s expression didn’t budge. “Where’s Ross?”
“He left with Miranda.” Pippa could at least get those words out.
Max looked worried, which made Pippa’s anger surface quickly.
“Ross is a big boy,” Pippa said. “He can handle her.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Still jealous? God, Pippa. I thought we were beyond this.”
He was right. Pippa was done comparing herself to Miranda, or any other woman. She was happy with who she was. Besides, she couldn’t be anyone else. “Sorry.”
He nodded, appeased, then turned back to the old ladies. “What is it I’m supposed to do now? Am I free to go back to the pub? Or is one of you claiming my attention for the evening?”
“Not sure what we’ll do with ye,” Bethia said, chewing her lip.
Pippa took a deep breath. “I’m claiming ye since these two busybodies goofed up. They were, after all, going to give me the bachelor that they won. Come on.”
She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with Max either. Loneliness came over her.
“Don’t forget what we told ye,” Deydie said. “This is one thing that can’t be left undone.”
Pippa wanted to tell her to mind her own business. She ignored the inquisitive look on Max’s face, too. She couldn’t tell him yet. Hell, what if Deydie was wrong. Pippa needed concrete evidence that she was pregnant, not some wizened old woman’s word.
“Come on, Yank. We have things to discuss.” She’d let Deydie think what she wanted, but Pippa was going to talk to Max about business.
Away from this town.
Naked.
And after they’d made love.
In that order, or so help her, she wasn’t the McDonnell.
Contrary to what Deydie thought, even if Pippa was pregnant, she wouldn’t tell Max anything. She wouldn’t tie him down with news like that. If Deydie was right—which remained to be seen—Pippa could raise the bairn on her own. Just like her da had done with her.
Pippa grabbed Max’s elbow and headed for the door as the music started up. Quilting Central was going to turn into dance central at any moment; the quilting ladies had organized a céilidh to give the winners something to do with their recently won prizes . . . and to keep the local bachelors relatively safe from what the randy women wanted to do to them.
Pippa donned her coat, and at the last second, gave a thought to something else besides getting Max alone.
“Wait here,” she said. “I have to speak with Freda.”
Pippa rushed over to the punch table that Freda was manning with Aileen. Pippa laid a hand on Freda’s arm and said, “Can ye do me a favor?”
Freda gave her a warm smile, tipping her head in the direction of Max. “Certainly, love.”
“Can ye check on my da for me?”
Freda frowned, and Aileen jumped in. “I’ll go check on him right now. But then sister and I are headed to Lios. We’re going on a quilt shop hop.”
“Thanks, Aileen,” Pippa said.
“I’ll stop by in the morning,” Freda finally agreed, “to make sure he has some breakfast.” She made it sound like it was the Christian thing to do and not because she still fancied the McDonnell.
Pippa gave her a quick hug, for both agreeing and for not making her confess her plan to stay out all night.
“Now, can you do me a favor?” Freda asked. “Can you let the Yank know that I’ll leave his quilt for him in the room over the pub?”
“What quilt?”
Freda smiled and nodded her head toward the front of the room where Pippa’s quilt hung. “He had me win it for him.”
Pippa was a little choked up and feeling sappy that Max would want her quilt. She gave Freda another hug. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Max was no longer at the door. Pippa went outside and found him staring out at the sea, his kilt blowing in the wind. His hair had grown since he’d been here and it was tossing in the wind as well.
She sidled up to him, feeling subdued. Part of her wanted to ask him about the quilt—why he would want it. But the question felt too intimate to ask. Which was strange, considering what she planned to be doing with Max tonight.
“Ready?” she finally asked.
“I’m all yours.” His expression was thoughtful. She wondered if he knew this was good-bye, too.
“Do ye have yere car keys?”
“Yes.”
She pulled her keys from her purse. “It’s best we take separate cars.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“It’s less complicated that way.” The people of Gandiegow were no dummies, and Pippa felt the need to be as discreet as possible. But in the next second, she thought about stopping in the General Store for a pregnancy test, to know once and for all. But that was only asking for trouble, as news like that would travel nearly as fast as the speed of light. She would pick one up in Fairge on her way home tomorrow.
They walked side by side to the parking lot.
Max finally spoke when they reached her car. “Where are we going? The factory?”
She shook her head. “To a cabin I know about, on the edge of Spalding Farm. Follow me. It’s not far.”
Max brushed her arm as she slipped into her seat. “I’ll be right behind you.” He closed her door.
His deep baritone remained with her, comforting her, as she drove out of the lot. Thirty minutes and several back roads later, they pulled down the lane to Colin Spalding’s cabin tucked into the trees. The moon shone down brightly on the little log cabin. Patches of snow on the roof made it look like a gingerbread house with frosting on top.
She parked her car as Max pulled up. He shut off his vehicle and joined her. Without speaking, they walked to the cabin door. She tipped over the cast-iron statue of a sheep and retrieved the key.
She would not be sad. She would be happy that the evening had taken an unexpected turn for the better. She would enjoy this last night with Max, and let tomorrow’s sadness and loneliness be tomorrow’s worry.
She unlocked the door and switched on the light. When they went inside, she lit the gas fireplace, grateful for the modern convenience. Colin had updated the amenities, but kept the rustic charm. Near the back wall stood the ladder which led to the loft, the only bedroom in the cabin. Pippa pulled the curtain on the picture window, though there was no need, really. No one would bother them. If anyone came to use the cabin, they would turn around when they saw the cars parked out front.
Max took her hand when she went to pass.
“You know we have to talk first.” He looked serious.
“About?”
“Ross,” he said. “The engagement.”
“Oh, aye. The engagement’s off. It had never been truly on. In my heart, I’ve known all along I couldn’t go through with it, but it took me a while to face the truth. And I still need to set the town straight. Though the Deydie and Bethia grapevine will handle the majority of it.”
Max raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek. “Ross hinted as much. He also said you fancied me.”
“Aye.” Tonight was a night for truth. Pippa stared into Max’s eyes, mesmerized. She needed the memory of this night to last a lifetime. But first, she needed to tell him about the contract.
She unzipped his parka. “I heard from yere company. They accepted almost all of our changes. We should brea
k open a bottle of wine and celebrate.” She pushed his coat from his shoulders and he shrugged out of it.
He moved a lock of her hair behind her ear. “The only thing I want to drink in right now is you.”
She pulled his sweater over his head, exposing his wonderful chest. “Had ye heard about it from Roger or Miranda?”
“My phone is off,” he replied. “Now, shh. No more talk of business.”
She unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor. When she went to remove his kilt, he stilled her hands.
“My turn.” He unzipped her coat and removed it.
“Wait,” she said as he went to hang it over a chair. “I need to retrieve something first.” He handed it back. She pulled the condoms out and shoved them in her jeans pocket. “Provisions.”
Instead of removing her blouse next, he pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly.
So this was how it was going to be. Neither one of them was going to say it . . . Good-bye.
“How about we take this upstairs?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You’re not going to rush this, Pippa.” Very slowly, he traced his finger down her face to the V of her blouse, gazing upon her body as if she were a star to wish upon.
He was right. She was being impatient. She wanted to savor this last time with him, too—take mental photos that she could bring to mind while she spent the rest of her life alone.
She laid a hand over his heart and felt the rise and fall of his chest. As she tilted her head back to gaze into his eyes again, he leaned down and kissed her once more. But this time, he scooped her up and carried her to the sofa in front of the fireplace, his lips gently melding with hers.
As if they had all the time in the world, he kissed her for what seemed liked hours. Finally, they climbed the ladder and slowly undressed each other. This wasn’t the playful sex they’d had the first time or the wham-bam they’d had in her office. This was all about cherishing each other and being in the moment.
As Max made love to her, he gazed into her eyes, and Pippa felt treasured, loved. His eyes spoke the deep feelings that words couldn’t name, but she heard them inside of her anyway. They were in a melting pot of emotions and she savored the moments. They savored the moments, soaking each other up. And at the moment that they met their climax, Pippa wanted to confess her feelings, but instead let her body say it for her. They dozed and roused, then made love again.
Pippa woke before the sun, pretty sure her internal alarm clock was warning her that the time had come to feel the full force of her broken heart. She slowly slipped out of bed, gazing upon Max as she gathered her panties and bra.
Before climbing down the ladder, she whispered into the darkness, “Tha gaol agam ort.” It was the best she could do for him, the most she’d ever given any man. It would have to be enough.
For the briefest of moments she wanted to crawl back in bed beside Max, wake him with a kiss, and tell him what Deydie had said. But if Pippa did and he stayed, she’d always have doubts about whether he’d remained in Scotland for her or for the babe. Quietly, she went down the ladder and out the door, her heart aching.
And once outside, she willed herself to put it all behind her. She had a pressing errand to run. One that would reveal which direction her future life would take—single mother or confirmed bachelorette. On the way back to Gandiegow, she stopped at the chemist in Fairge to pick up a pregnancy test, ready to find out which life it would be.
Chapter Twenty
At Thistle Glen Lodge, Ross finished making a cup of coffee and went back down the hall to Miranda’s room. She’d been out cold all night. He didn’t approve of what Deydie and Bethia had done to this woman. And he would definitely think twice before drinking anything the two quilting ladies offered him in the future.
He slipped back in and pulled up a chair near Miranda’s double bed. He’d rested in the twin-size bed across the room, afraid to leave her, not knowing if what they’d given her would make her do something crazy, like sleepwalk, which would be highly dangerous in a village at the water’s edge.
He was halfway through his coffee with the sun barely making an appearance when Miranda rolled over and her eyes fluttered open.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he drawled. He took a sip from his mug, not breaking eye contact with her. He’d had a helluva time getting her pantsuit off her last night and slipping her into the silk nightie. He’d done his best not to look; she’d been hoodwinked enough by the townsfolk.
He laid a hand on the end of her bed. “Ye’re just as beautiful this morning as ye were last night.” A moment of guilt hit him for hinting at a liaison, but his heart was in the right place. She deserved more than she’d gotten.
“Good morning,” she said shyly. She reached up and checked her hair, as if worried about how she looked.
“Personally, I like my women a little rumpled. Ye are amazing.”
“I’m glad you stayed over,” she said hesitantly. “I wasn’t sure if you would.” The hard lines of her face softened as a tentative smile grew. Ross got a glimpse of a different woman under her tough exterior—a woman who longed for love and affection. He hoped one day she would find those things for herself.
He rose, tucking in his T-shirt and straightening his kilt. “I hate to leave ye, but I have a job to do. Fishermen seldom take a day off.”
She sat up, looking a little downcast.
He moved closer and took her hands in his. “Before I go, though, I want to thank ye for last night. Ye’re an incredible woman, Miranda. Very special. Any man would be lucky to have ye.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
She put a finger to where his lips had been.
“Thank you, Ross.” She hesitated for a second and gave him a confident smile. “It was a night I’ll never forget.”
* * *
Pippa sat outside the chemist, waiting for it to open. Maybe she should’ve gone home first and crawled into bed, pretending she’d been under her own quilt all night and not snuggled up with Max in the loft at the cabin. But fretting here in front of the chemist was what she deserved. She never should’ve fallen for the Yank. From the moment she’d set eyes on his beautiful face, she should’ve known she was a goner.
Besides, she had to sit here. She had to know one way or another if Deydie was telling the truth.
At nine the young female pharmacist unlocked the door. Pippa pulled her hood up, feeling slightly ridiculous. She didn’t know the woman in the white lab coat, but Fairge wasn’t so far away from Gandiegow that rumors couldn’t get started.
Pippa hopped from the car and went in. It took only a second to find what she needed. She made her way to the counter with her wallet in hand.
The woman gave her an expectant expression. Pippa wanted to tell her not to judge, but instead she took her change in silence. Once back in the car, Pippa shoved the pregnancy test to the bottom of her purse and laid her wallet on top. All the way back to Gandiegow she worried what the contents of the box would reveal.
As she drove down the winding road off the bluff to the parking lot below, red flashing lights shattered her deep thoughts and panic overtook her. Who in town needed an ambulance? Had one of the fishermen gotten hurt?
She pulled into the lot and quickly parked. The townsfolk were gathered around the back of the ambulance into which a stretcher was being loaded. The only two people who registered with her were Doc MacGregor and Freda before the crowd parted and let her through.
“Da?” Pippa’s voice sounded eerie, conveying every bit of panic her brain hadn’t quite registered.
“Daughter,” Da said weakly. He was pale, his eyebrows pulled together in pain. “Don’t worry.”
Pippa clutched at Freda, who took her hands. “What’s going on?”
“I was a damned fool,” her father said from the stretcher.
“He fell out of his wheelchair,
” Doc MacGregor put in. “Freda found him. A compound fracture to his other leg.” He stepped up into the ambulance. “Let’s get some pain meds going.”
“Freda?” her da called. “Freda? I want Freda with me.”
“All right,” Doc said. “There’s room.” He offered his hand to help Freda up to sit next to the paramedic. Doc looked at Pippa. “Are ye okay to follow us? I could get Dominic to drive ye.”
“No. I can do it.” She gave one more look at her da, then ran back to her car. As she started the engine, she saw the doors to the ambulance shut and the vehicle circle the parking lot. She followed with her flashers on.
All the way to the hospital, thoughts tumbled through her brain. Please, God, let him be okay! Her da had always been everything to her, but she hadn’t realized how angry with him she’d become in the months since she’d returned to Gandiegow. In her mind, he’d let her down. But the truth of it was, it was her fault. She’d always held him up so high on a pedestal that the most saintly of men would’ve eventually fallen.
It hit her that Lachlan McDonnell wasn’t the superhero she’d made him out to be. He was just a man with flaws like everyone else. Imperfect. But he was her da, and a good one. Her heart swelled with love for her father. She’d wanted him to accept her as she was and not demand she fit into his preferred mold; but she had to do the same for him, too.
At that moment, she recognized how she’d grown since coming back to Gandiegow. She was no longer the McDonnell’s little girl. Not an easy task when your small town always wanted things to remain the same. She was a woman now. She could stand in the truth of who she once was and who she’d become. No longer was she the girl promised to Ross.
She was the Gandiegow lass who could now face head-on what had happened . . . She’d fallen in love with Max McKinley. And her heart was breaking.
* * *
Lachlan didn’t care about the pain or the infernal racket of the blaring sirens. The only thing he cared about was that Freda was with him inside the blasted ambulance. She gave him strength. And purpose. Lachlan reached out to take her hand.
The Accidental Scot Page 27