“I’m sure Deydie won’t mind if the puppy and I crash at her place.” Cait would have to get her gran drunk again before asking permission.
Duncan beamed at her. “Okay. But let me know if it doesn’t work out.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said, not sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.
* * *
Deydie could very well turn both me and the pup out in the cold. To counteract that thought, Cait stopped at the store. She’d bet good money chocolate would be just the thing to win over the Grand Pooh-Bah of Crankiness. She nestled the dog in the blanket and made sure the lid was on tight before entering the mercantile.
Amy was just putting the phone down. “I’m glad you’re here. We’re having an emergency quilt session at Deydie’s right now. That was Ailsa—Rhona’s had a shocker. Her daughter isn’t having just a baby—it’s twins. She only made the one quilt, and now she needs another before Christmas. Bethia is on her way, and I’ll be closing up in a minute. I’m sure Ailsa has already called Moira, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to leave her da or not. You’ll come and help, won’t you?”
Cait looked down at the box. “Of course.” Then at the row of chocolate. “Do you know which is Deydie’s favorite?”
Amy smiled. “That’s easy. Chocolate-covered cherries.”
“Great. I’ll take two boxes.” Cait laid the money on the counter.
Amy rang it up, bagged the chocolate, and grabbed the CLOSED sign. “If anyone needs anything, they know how to reach me. What’s in the box?”
“Another shocker,” Cait said, knowing it was true. Or at least it would be when her grumpy gran saw it.
Amy shrugged and headed out the door. They set out for Deydie’s as a storm came in from the sea.
Amy still managed to talk a mile a minute over the gale-force winds. “I hope Rhona has enough fabric to make another Log Cabin quilt. The babies are due in January. I bet Rhona is cutting out pieces right now. I reckon the rest of us will work on the blocks. I think we can get it done pretty quickly, don’t you?”
Seriously, Cait didn’t know why anyone would even want to talk in this kind of weather. Her uvula was in danger of freezing. But Cait hollered back anyway, “We’ll get it done if we all work together.”
It wasn’t just the snowstorm slowing Cait down. She hadn’t seen or talked to Deydie today. Things were just okay between them last night when they’d gone to bed. Not anything said actually—Deydie humming Christmas tunes and Cait careful not to upset her good mood. She wondered how her gran felt this morning. Apparently, well enough to be up at the crack of dawn to leave food at Duncan’s and take care of Graham’s place. What if Deydie was ticked with her for leaving and not coming back today? Cait would just have to explain that she’d been at Duncan’s helping out. She looked down at the carton. This was no box of cookies. How would her gran feel about having extra housemates until Christmas?
When they got to Deydie’s, Amy just walked in without knocking. She looked over and must’ve read Cait’s mind. “Your gran told me there’s no need to knock.” In other words, Amy is family. Another little jab at Cait’s heart.
“We’re here,” Amy called out.
The quilting ladies filled every corner of the small cottage. Rhona stood over a card table with a rotary cutter in her hand. Bethia, Ailsa, and Aileen sewed at their machines. Moira stood at the ironing board, pressing small blocks. They all turned their heads and gave their greetings.
Deydie came out of the bathroom and stopped short when she saw Cait. “What’s in that box?”
Carefully, Cait set it down on the little table by the door while she slowly took off her mittens and hat, searching for the perfect thing to say. “It’s a favor for Duncan.”
Deydie eyed her skeptically. “That makes no sense, girl.”
“It’s a present for Graham, and Duncan needs a place to hide it until Christmas.” Cait needed time to ease into the truth, but she would pay for dodging the question. Putting off the inevitable butt chewing would only make the butt chewing worse.
“Ye can set it outside in the storage shed,” Deydie said.
“I don’t think that will work becau—” The puppy whimpered before Cait could finish.
Deydie cocked her head to the side and squinted at the box. “What’s in there?” She hobbled her way over to the little table. The other women, as if attached to Deydie by a string, gathered around the box as well.
Cait cringed as Deydie opened the lid. She slammed the lid back down. “Get that damned thing out of here.”
“I can’t,” cried Cait.
“Graham won’t want it,” Deydie said flatly.
Amy pulled the dog out of its hiding place. “It’s so cute. Is it a girl?”
“Boy.”
“May I?” Moira asked with her hands outstretched to Amy.
It seemed so out of character for Moira to request anything; Cait caught the surprised look on Deydie’s face to prove it. Amy gave the fluff ball a kiss and passed the puppy to Moira, who murmured in Gaelic to the dog as she walked over to the rocking chair in front of the fire.
“Well, look at that,” Rhona muttered.
They all stared at Moira, gape-mouthed, as she held the dog close and hummed. She didn’t seem to notice them. Cait wondered if they’d be able to pry the dog away from her so Graham would get his present on Christmas Day.
“Let’s get back to work,” Bethia reminded everyone. Everyone except Moira.
“Right,” the twins said together.
Deydie grumbled as she went to her machine.
Cait took Moira’s place at the ironing board, pressing Log Cabin blocks.
In shifts, the women took small breaks. A cup of coffee with shortbread cookies, a big stretch and a bathroom trip, a turn about the room. Eventually, Moira rejoined them, but only after making the puppy comfortable in his box by the fire. In the company of this group, Cait had completely forgotten about rummaging through Graham’s place. As she pressed away, she worried whether she’d be able to steal back up the bluff to his mansion. Because of the puppy, she was no longer a free agent and couldn’t come and go as she pleased.
The box made a little shuffling noise.
Deydie scowled at Cait, irritation filling in her wrinkles. “What is your plan for that mutt?”
Cait jumped up. “I nearly forgot. I brought you a little present, too.”
“Bribe,” Deydie muttered.
Cait retrieved the chocolate-covered cherries from her coat. “Not exactly. It’s more of a bargaining chip.”
Deydie did her usual harrumph.
Cait took it as a good sign. “I thought we could do this together as a favor for Duncan,” she said firmly.
“We?” Deydie accused.
Cait gave Rhona the last pressed strip to add to the quilt top. “The puppy can’t stay at the pub. Graham would hear him. I thought I could stay here at your cottage and we could take care of him together.”
Deydie stomped over to her rocking chair but didn’t sit. Instead, she turned and stared intently at Cait. With the fire as a backdrop, her gran looked every bit the Scottish warrior. Or demon witch. “I knew ye wanted something from me.”
Bethia dove in and scolded her like no one else could. “Caitie’s family. You have to let her stay with you.”
Deydie plopped into her rocking chair. “Bring it to me.”
Cait brought over the box. “I’ll do everything. But I’ll need backup.” If Deydie helped with the dog, Cait might still have a chance to search Graham’s house before he got back. But she felt the opportunity slipping away. When did he say he’d be home exactly?
Deydie stuck her hand in the box and pulled out the puppy. She held it up and frowned at his face. “You’re an ugly-looking mongrel.”
The dog wagged his tail.
&
nbsp; “He’s a purebred sheltie,” Cait defended.
Deydie set the dog on the floor at her feet. He stood and took a few wobbly steps, then squatted by her big toe.
“Don’t you dare,” Deydie barked. The dog stopped and peered up as if he understood—Deydie was the alpha dog. “Moira, take it outside so it can do its business.”
Moira grabbed the dog and left. Within minutes, they were back. “He’s so good. He went right away.” She laid the dog in Deydie’s lap.
“It probably has fleas,” Deydie groused. The dog licked her hand and rubbed up against her.
Amy came over and knelt beside her. “So can he stay?” She acted as if she had a stake in it. Which she didn’t. Deydie was Cait’s gran.
“I suppose. For Duncan and Mattie and Graham.” In other words, not because Cait had asked her. Deydie set the dog back in the box. “Now, let’s get this baby quilt finished.”
Rhona pulled the Log Cabin quilt top from her machine. “The top’s done. It’s ready to pin.”
After they cleared the big table of the sewing machines, Cait spread the backing fabric out, right-side down. Deydie, Ailsa, and Aileen taped it to the table. Moira layered the quilt batting on top of that and then Rhona positioned the newly made quilt top over the batting. They all grabbed a container of safety pins and went to work. Because there were so many hands, the quilt was pinned in record time.
“I really appreciate your help.” Rhona held up the nearly finished product. “I’ll stitch this together tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” Bethia said. “We’ll take turns doing it now. You have the Christmas pageant coming up.”
“We’ll get it done tonight,” Deydie gruffed. “Amy, get the sandwiches from the icebox. Moira, sit with that dog and make sure he doesn’t poop on anything.” She turned to Cait. “Set up yere fancy sewing machine and get to work on stitching that quilt.”
“Aye, aye.” Cait saluted. The other women jumped into action. The twins made them all spiced cider. Bethia and Deydie went to the rocking chairs by the fire while Rhona directed Cait as to what she envisioned.
“It should be Stitched in the Ditch. Make sure you keep the stitch right in the seam. That’s it,” Rhona coached.
Cait smiled. Her teacher hadn’t changed a bit—always the instructor.
“Leave her alone,” Deydie called out. “Any granddaughter of mine knows how to Stitch in the Ditch.”
Shocked, Cait about ran the needle over her finger. Had her gran actually claimed her as her own? She risked a glance in her direction but couldn’t make out her gran’s expression with the rocking chair moving back and forth.
After Amy had downed her sandwich, she tapped Cait’s shoulder. “Go get something to eat. I’ll have a crack at it.”
“Are you sure?” Cait asked.
“I’ve been itching to get my hands on your sewing machine since you got here. I saw one in Glasgow when I was on holiday. Coll and I could never afford a machine like that, you know, but a lass can dream. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. There’s a couple of cool gadgets on here you’re going to love.” Cait showed her the extras, then went to get a sandwich.
Ailsa and Aileen sat in the rocking chairs now, taking turns holding the puppy. “Do you have a name for the dog?” Ailsa asked.
Before Cait could answer, Deydie spat, “There’s only one name for a mutt like that and it surely ain’t Precious. We’ll call him Dipshit.”
The puppy growled.
“Oh, all right,” Deydie said with extra emphasis. “I suppose Mattie wouldn’t be allowed to say Dipshit, now, would he?” She snatched the puppy out of Ailsa’s hands and held him up, looking the little guy in the eye. “Yere name’s Dingus. And that’s that,” she declared.
The dog yipped twice in approval.
“That’s a terrible name,” Cait protested.
“Tough shite.” Deydie glared at her. “It’s in my house, and I’ll name it whatever I want.”
“It’s not up to you to name him,” Cait argued. “It’s Graham’s dog.” A flush came to her face. She felt both embarrassed and warmed just by saying his name. She didn’t know why she was defending Graham’s rights so vehemently, the same man she planned to betray. The same man who pretended they could be friends. Yeah, right, like a movie star would have any use for a mortal, everyday girl like her. What difference did it make what Deydie called his dog? None. “Call him whatever you want.”
As the evening wore on, she showed them all how to use the machine. When they’d all had a turn—except Deydie, who seemed to keep herself busy during switching time—the quilting was done.
While everyone else cleaned up, Rhona worked on the binding. “I’ll take this home and hand stitch it down tomorrow evening after school.”
“Leave it with me,” Deydie said. “I’ll have it done and ye won’t have to worry about it. Ye’ve got the pageant. Gandiegow’s depending on you.”
“All right, then,” Rhona acquiesced.
The twins grabbed their coats. “What a lot of fun,” Ailsa said.
“A lot of fun,” Aileen copied, smiling at them all. “Moira, tell your da we’ll be by to see him tomorrow. We’re making him a Christmas stollen. Something to cheer him up.”
Moira looked down at the floor. “I know he’ll appreciate it.”
Ailsa handed Moira’s coat to her. “It’ll give you a chance to slip out if you have any last-minute shopping to do.”
Cait thought this strange. It wasn’t like there was a mall or anything near.
Moira seemed to appreciate the offer, though. “That would be nice.”
The quilting ladies filed out, leaving Cait alone with Deydie.
“Dingus will need a bite to eat.” Deydie went to the cabinet and pulled out a small can of fancy dog food.
Cait was puzzled until she realized Deydie must’ve kept it on hand for Precious. She took the can from her and prepared a little of it for the puppy.
The little fur ball ate his fill and promptly fell asleep.
Cait pulled out the trundle while Deydie went into the bathroom.
When her gran came out and crawled into bed, she leaned over and snatched the puppy from Cait.
Deydie settled the dog in her arms. “You’d just crush it,” her gran said.
Cait sighed. And the sweet comments just keep on coming. She wrapped her arms around herself.
After a moment, she turned off the light, slipped out of her clothes, leaving on only her long underwear and a T-shirt. She fell into bed.
“Good night,” Cait said to the darkness.
The darkness remained silent.
Chapter Nine
Cait dreamed she was on a boat, being tossed back and forth belowdecks. Deydie ruled the ship as captain with Graham as first mate. Cait wanted to be out enjoying the fresh air and to find out why there was laughing and singing. But every time she climbed the steps leading up to the deck, the boat would rock, and she would lose her footing and go crashing to the floor. Then more tossing and turning.
Cait woke up, unsure at first where she was. Deydie shook her shoulders. “Get up. That damned dog has had his breakfast. Now take him out.” She laid the furry creature on Cait’s belly.
But Cait didn’t want to get up. It was still dark out.
“There’s coffee left in the pot.” Deydie’s tone made Cait wonder whether her gran meant it to be nice or if Cait was supposed to clean out the carafe.
“Okay,” Cait said noncommittally as Deydie whirled out the front door.
She set little Dingus on the floor while she got up. If she could’ve just lain there a while longer, she might’ve been able to make sense of the strange dream she was having. Was her subconscious trying to tell her she hadn’t gotten her sea legs yet? And what the hell did that mean anyway?
She m
ade the bed and pushed it back under Deydie’s. She dressed in her usual brown attire, slipped on her coat, and took the puppy out. Back inside, the coffee hit the spot and she made sure to wash out the carafe and set it in the drainer to dry. She tucked Dingus into her coat and left for the pub to pack a small bag. And grab a clean notebook while she was at it. She’d need it for when she tackled Graham’s house.
At the pub, the puppy napped on the bed while she gathered her things together. At the last minute, she remembered her laptop and power cord. She put the dog back into her coat and set off for Deydie’s. On her way out, she ran into Bonnie, the barmaid, whose low-cut Christmas sweater showed too much cleavage for her to make Santa’s Nice List.
“Haven’t seen you around lately.” Bonnie certainly didn’t sound like she’d missed her.
“Been staying at my gran’s,” Cait said, hoping Dingus would keep quiet so she didn’t have to explain why her breast was whining. “Listen, I’d better run. She’s expecting me.” Cait turned to go.
Bonnie blocked her path. “You’ve not heard from Graham, have you?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Good. I’m glad you realize he doesn’t answer to you. Or belong to you,” Bonnie added with a sneer. “You’d better remember that.”
Cait wanted to deck her, but she stepped around her instead. The fact that Bonnie wanted to get her hooks into Graham made Cait want to get Deydie’s chicken knife and put it to good use.
And just so Cait could dig the proverbial knife in, she added over her shoulder, “When he gets back, I’ll let him know you want to see him. Or maybe I won’t.” Like he’d call Cait first when he made it ashore.
Bonnie and her considerable rack huffed off. Cait hoped she’d go take a running leap off the pier.
The dog mewed a little then. Cait put her hand in her coat and ruffled his soft fur. “It’s okay, buddy. She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?”
The sun came out from under the clouds and made Cait feel better. She hurried off through the small row of businesses. On impulse, she swung into the store. Amy, like a permanent fixture, was behind the counter, arranging receipts. “Hey, ya,” she said.
To Scotland With Love Page 9