The Accidental Scot

by Patience Griffin

  “Hold still,” Doc MacGregor said. “Let the paramedic get the IV in, and then ye’ll be able to move your arm.”

  Lachlan wished he could erase the worry from Freda’s face. “I’m sorry, Freda.”

  She reached across and clasped his free hand in hers, smiling down on him. “Shh, quiet now.”

  But Lachlan had to get this out. It might be his last chance to make amends.

  “I was an arse.”

  He expected her to deny it, but she seemed to be waiting patiently to see if he had more to say.

  “I never should’ve treated ye the way that I did. I’m so sorry. Ye looked beautiful.”

  Freda blushed.

  Lachlan squeezed her hand. “Ye still do. Ye always have. I should’ve told ye sooner what ye’ve come to mean to me.”

  Freda glanced at Doc, but the man had the good sense to look busy with the medical supplies in his bag.

  She didn’t shy away from his words, but leaned closer. “What have I come to mean to ye?”

  Och, he liked this confident Freda. “Ye’re everything to me.”

  She didn’t melt and weep all over him. Instead, she looked determined. “And?”

  “And if the doctors can get my bones to heal and make me a healthy, whole man again, I’m going to ask ye to marry me.”

  Freda smiled at him sweetly, but there was something more behind it. She looked resolute, single-minded, and unwavering . . . like the strong Scottish lass she was. She let go and patted his hand. “Indeed, we’ll be married, healed bones or no. I’ve not loved ye all these years to be without ye now.”

  He grabbed her hand, overcome with emotion, and made his vow. “Aye, Freda, we’ll be married. I love ye, lass.” It was a strong man indeed who had tears rolling down his cheeks, and he didn’t care a whit if the love of his life, or the doc, or any other damned person saw him crying like a babe.

  * * *

  When Max woke, the cabin was empty. Hell, his chest felt empty, too.

  Pippa is gone.

  He wasn’t surprised. So many times last night he’d wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but then he’d chicken out. Or maybe it was because she’d gotten her point across loud and clear. From the time they’d reached the cabin until the last time that they’d made love, she’d said good-bye to him with her eyes, with her body, with everything. She wasn’t engaged anymore, but apparently she didn’t want or need a man in her life. Max wanted to offer her everything, but something inside him needed her to need him. And Pippa needed no one. Or at least that was the bullshit she was telling herself.

  After Max dressed and tidied up the cabin, he wasn’t in any hurry to leave. He sat in front of the fireplace for a long time. Finally, he grabbed his coat, locked the door, put the cabin key under the iron sheep guarding the house, and went to his car.

  While he waited for it to warm, he turned on his cell phone, and within a minute it rang. As if a switch had been flipped, his heart pounded and his hopes soared.

  But when he checked the name, it wasn’t Pippa.

  It was Roger Gibbons, president of MTech.

  “McKinley here,” Max said.

  “Why in the hell didn’t you call me back last night?” Roger’s voice cut in and out, the connection terrible. “I sent you an e-mail. I called and I texted.”

  Oh, crap.

  Max glanced at his phone, but it was too late to read the messages. “Sorry. My phone was off.”

  Roger went on. “I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Of course you shouldn’t have allowed so many concessions, but we were able to get back the most important one, so there’s still a chance we’ll get the subsea valve in the end. Legal faxed the final contract to McDonnell last night.”

  Max’s stomach fell. What concession had she made? God, he hoped Pippa hadn’t signed anything this morning. He needed to get hold of her!

  “There’s another matter I want to discuss,” Roger continued. “I just got off the phone with Miranda and she agrees with me. Said you orchestrated the whole deal with little input from her.”

  Max’s connection was bad, but had he heard right? Miranda had given him the credit?

  “We think you should head up the new department—Technical Acquisitions. It’s been in the works for some time now. We were looking at other candidates, but this deal showed that you’re a team player.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Max said honestly. His emotions were reeling. It was a lot to take in. Only a few days ago, he was pretty sure Miranda was going to fire him. “Can I call you back, sir? Our connection is horrible.” Max needed to process this new development. But more important, he needed to stop Pippa from signing that contract.

  Roger chuckled. “Take your time. Call me later today.” He hung up.

  Everything Max ever wanted was coming true—a valve that could have saved his father’s life was close at hand. He had the chance to head up a new engineering department, something he’d worked toward since college. He’d sacrificed everything for his dream, gave up having a family of his own, and had focused solely on his career. But if he was getting everything he ever wanted, shouldn’t he be happier?

  This damn deal. He knew in his gut if Pippa signed that contract, Gandiegow would lose in the end. He sent her an urgent text to do nothing until he talked to her. He put the car in gear and started down the path that led to the main road. Pippa may have said good-bye with her body last night, but Max was going to intervene one more time. And getting ahold of her was paramount. He called her number, but it went directly to voice mail. Was she avoiding his calls? Was she at home signing the papers right now? Max drove as fast as the slick, curvy roads would allow.

  When he arrived in town, he didn’t worry about changing out of Ross’s kilt and into a pair of jeans. Right now, he didn’t give a crap if his clothes told everyone that he’d stayed out all night. He rushed through town, and he couldn’t help but notice things were too quiet.

  Over the last few weeks, the closer it got to Christmas, the livelier the town had become—more people decorating, more people carrying boxes and bags from house to house, more merrymaking. Gandiegow had been a regular Norman Rockwell painting. But today was Christmas Eve and the town was dead, as if the zombie apocalypse occurred and no one told him.

  At the house with the red roof and green door, Max knocked, then walked in without waiting.

  “Pippa?”

  No answer.

  He rushed to the dark den. “Lachlan? Are you awake?”

  The place was silent. Max stepped in and turned on the small lamp so as not to disturb the McDonnell.

  But Max was alone . . . except for the empty wheelchair.

  “Oh, God.” What’s going on?

  His eyes landed on the fax machine in the corner. He rushed to it. The contract was there. He flipped to the last page. Pippa hadn’t signed it yet. Thank goodness! He took the page and shoved it in his pocket in case she came back.

  But where was she? And where was Lachlan?

  Max left the house and ran to Quilting Central for answers. There, too, the building was empty. He hurried to the restaurant and the pub, and found them empty as well.

  At Thistle Glen Lodge, he found Miranda in the bedroom, packing.

  Max ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was beginning to feel like the last man on Earth.”

  Miranda glanced over her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

  It registered that she was wearing jeans and a casual sweater. Her hair was wet. She didn’t have her face painted up as usual. Maybe he had stepped into an alternate universe after all. Miranda didn’t look uptight. She didn’t look like Miranda at all. He wondered if this was the real Miranda and the old version was just something that she’d cooked up.

  “What’s going on?” he asked. “I can�
�t find anyone in town.”

  “What? No one in town? But I was counting on someone to take me to Inverness. I have a flight out tonight and the taxi company said they can’t make it out today.”

  “Have you seen anyone? The village is deserted.”

  “Ross was here earlier. But he was off to go fishing. Fishermen seldom take a day off is what he said.”

  So Ross had spent the night with Miranda. Max felt guilty about that.

  Miranda zipped her bag. “Did Roger call you?”

  “Yes. Thanks for giving me credit for the deal.”

  She set her bag on the floor. “You deserved it.” She seemed less harsh this morning. Softer, feminine. Then she gave him a wry smile. “You should have closed the deal sooner, but it all turned out in the end.”

  We’ll see.

  “And the new position,” Miranda said. “Did Roger speak with you about it?”

  “Yes. I told him I’d call later.”

  She eyed Max as if seeing more than he did. “You look as if you might turn it down.”

  He didn’t answer. He didn’t know. The most important thing was to find Pippa.

  Miranda shrugged. “Your priorities have shifted.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “You’re thinking with your heart now instead of your head.” She looked out the window wistfully. “Watching you and Pippa . . . I wondered if that was what love looked like.”

  “What?” He paused for a second, letting the truth sink in. Could it be true that he loved Pippa? He knew it was killing him to be without her, and the ache, the pain, the joy was the most real thing he’d ever felt. Why hadn’t he realized sooner that he loved her? “I didn’t plan on it.” And he hadn’t seen it coming.

  Miranda turned back to him and smiled. “Pippa is a lucky woman.”

  No. He was the lucky one. And he was grateful to Miranda for helping him clear the fog and see his future—Pippa. And maybe it wasn’t professional, but he did it anyway. He stepped forward and laid a hand on Miranda’s arm. “You’re going to find that one guy who feels like he’s the lucky one to have you.”

  Miranda laughed, shaking her head. “One of the reasons I like you, McKinley. You’re such an optimist. But in this case, I hope you’re right.”

  He squeezed her arm. “Of course I’m right.” He stepped away. “But we need to talk about the MTech deal.”

  “What about the deal? Roger said it’s done.”

  “Pippa hasn’t signed yet. And I’m going to encourage her not to.” The answer to NSV’s immediate problem must’ve been brewing in the back of his mind, because now the answer came to him fully formed.

  “I’m leaving MTech and staying here. I can’t let there be any chance NSV will be closed down. These people need the factory. You see how little they have.” He motioned to the town outside the walls. He’d grown quite fond of all the quirky characters of Gandiegow.

  Miranda frowned, but she didn’t lash out as she would’ve done in the past. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Cash in my investments and my 401(k). I’ll put everything into making sure the subsea valve makes it to market.” He’d strike a deal with his alma mater to do the testing. His money would be just enough to keep them afloat until the revenue from the subsea shutoff valve began coming in. The oil industry had been waiting for this kind of solution for a long time. It would be a hit. “Maybe I’ll start my own consulting firm. I’m pretty good at improving processes, figuring out ways to make companies more efficient.” He would love to keep other small companies from going under, too. He would never go back to a huge corporation that didn’t care about the little guy, who was interested only in the profit-loss spreadsheet and not its workers, or how their products could improve lives. It would be starting all over again, but Max was okay with that. He welcomed the challenge.

  Another thought hit him. “I’m sorry how this will land on you. If there is anything I can do to stop the fallout, I will.”

  Miranda waved him off. “I’ll be okay. I’m moving up in the company. The deal I made in France is on the fast track. It’s bigger and will outshine what happened here. NSV will be ancient history before next quarter. My question to you is can you be happy in such a small town?”

  “Yes.” With the right person by his side. He just needed to convince Pippa to have him. But first, he needed to find her.

  “I’ve got to run,” Max said. “But let me get your luggage. Maybe we’ll find someone along the way who can take you to Inverness.” And to tell him where the rest of the town was.

  She gave him a fond smile. “I’ll let you. But only because I know it’ll make you feel chivalrous.” She’d said things like this before, but this time there was no sarcasm, only sincerity.

  Max rolled the suitcase out with Miranda following. When they got to the parking lot, he saw Dougal getting into one of the few cars left besides Ross’s rusted truck.

  “Wait up,” Max shouted. With the suitcase in tow, he rushed over to Gandiegow’s postman. “Where is everyone?”

  Dougal shook his head. “Ye haven’t heard? Everyone who can be there is. Didn’t ye read the note on the door of the General Store?”

  Max was exasperated. “No. Where did the town go?”

  “The hospital. The ambulance took the McDonnell away.”

  Max’s stomach fell. “What happened? Is he all right? Where’s Pippa?”

  “She followed them to the hospital. I had to finish the last of the mail delivery. The word is that the McDonnell broke his other leg.”

  “Which hospital?” Max asked.

  “St. Timothy’s,” Dougal replied.

  Miranda came up behind him, pulling out her phone. “I’ll get the directions.”

  “What about your flight?” Max asked.

  “Let’s check on Lachlan first.”

  “Thanks.” Max stowed her luggage in the trunk of his car and they started off. While Miranda’s phone relayed the directions, he worried about Lachlan and how Pippa was doing. He had to keep reminding himself which side of the road to drive on, especially when they made it into Inverness with its confusing roundabouts.

  At the hospital, they were sent to the fourth floor: surgery. Once the elevator opened, he had no trouble finding the people of Gandiegow. He followed the noise and the crowd down the hall to the surgery waiting area.

  Everyone, absolutely everyone, stared at his kilt, but he didn’t give a shit.

  Pippa was sitting in the middle of the overcrowded space with the quilting ladies surrounding her. It looked as if she was crying. So it was bad news then. Max pushed his way into the room.

  The second she saw him, she vaulted from her chair and threw herself at him. He held her tight, never wanting to let go. Ever.

  “He’s okay,” she cried. “The doctor said he made it through surgery like the stubborn old Scot that he is.”

  Max smoothed back her hair so he could see her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  She burst into tears again and buried her face in his neck.

  “Come with me. There’s something I need to tell you.” He tucked her under his arm and guided her from the room, the Gandiegowans parting for them to pass.

  He pulled her into the hallway, where Miranda was standing awkwardly.

  “Lachlan’s surgery went fine,” he told her.

  She nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll catch a ride from here.”

  “Good luck, Miranda.”

  “You, too, Max.”

  To his annoyance, Deydie and Bethia had sneakily followed them into the hallway, but he couldn’t tell the two old quilters to leave.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Deydie said to Miranda, with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression on her face.

  “This is perfect,” Bethia said, latching on to Miranda’s arm. “We were
hoping to get another chance. Deydie and I have someone ye should meet. It’s Kit Armstrong. Our matchmaker. She’s just in here and we’ve been telling her all about ye.”

  Deydie looked her up and down. “Ye look nice today, lassie.”

  Miranda seemed shell-shocked at the quilters’ onslaught.

  At that moment Freda showed up, too, and smiled at Miranda. “Deydie and Bethia told me their idea. It’s brilliant. Kit thinks ye might be perfect for one of her clients, Art MacKay. If not him, she has plenty of others.”

  Miranda took a deep breath and spoke, “I’m sorry, Freda. I never should’ve given you that makeover and made you up that way.”

  “It’s of no matter,” Freda said. “Water under the stone bridge. But I’m excited about ye meeting Kit. She’ll help. We all will.”

  Miranda colored. “Why would you help me after what I did?”

  Freda laid a hand on her arm. “You deserve a chance at true love, too. Everyone does.”

  Deydie and Bethia dragged Miranda into the crowded waiting room. Freda headed the other way, which left Max and Pippa in the hallway by themselves.

  “I need a minute alone with you,” he said.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” She smiled up at him. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  As he was leaning down, a male voice called out.

  John, Ross’s older brother, was hurrying down the hallway toward them. Andrew followed with his arm wrapped securely around Moira.

  “What’s the news?” John looked worried. “Is the McDonnell all right?”

  “Aye.” Pippa gave them the update. Then she looked around. “Where’s Ross?”

  “He’s parking his truck. I was worried the piece of junk wouldn’t get us here.”

  Max held on to Pippa’s hand, looking forward to telling her everything that was on his mind and in his heart. She pointed toward the waiting room and Max was glad the conversation was coming to an end. He couldn’t wait to get Pippa alone. But then the elevator doors opened.

  Max gaped at who was inside. It was Cait Buchanan and Mattie and . . . Graham Buchanan! The movie star had an arm wrapped around both Cait and the boy.