Meet Me in Scotland (13 page)

“We want Mattie to continue therapy.”

“Therapy can be a comfort.” Emma didn't exactly believe it, but thought she should say it, anyway.

“But here's the problem. Mattie's therapist has suspended his practice to finish working on his book.”

Uh-oh.

“Which brings me to you. Claire told me ye're a therapist.”

No.

“I spoke with my husband on the phone last night and he's as excited as I am that you've come to our little corner of Scotland.”

She must've seen the panicked expression on Emma's face, because Cait's words picked up speed. “I know you're on holiday, but we were hoping you would at least meet Mattie. Evaluate him.”

Emma clasped her hands in her lap. “I don't know what to say.”

Cait stared her down, giving her this knowing look.

Bloody hell.
Cait must know. Sure. She would've checked out Emma, her credentials, and her background. That meant that she knew about the series of papers Emma had written early in her graduate studies about children and effective therapeutic techniques.

Right now, Emma worked hard to keep a smile plastered on her face. She'd given up her interest in child psychology when her mother had pooh-poohed it. The expectation was for Emma to be a marriage therapist, end of story. She'd done what her mother expected. And look what it got her.

Cait's eyebrows furrowed. “We wouldn't expect you to do this for free, of course. We would pay you double the normal rate, as you would be doing us a favor.”

Emma formed her words carefully. “Did Claire also tell you I'm taking a break from counseling?”
Like, a forever break
. She glanced over at her sewing machine and the partially finished quilt. She'd gained a lot of confidence making blocks, but her confidence as a counselor was shot.

The door flew open, and Moira came in with a kid who had dark red hair.

Cait grinned at him. “Oh, there's Mattie now.”

Yeah, like that wasn't planned
. She wondered if Gabriel knew about this, too.

Cait grabbed her hand. “Emma, please. I know I've put you on the spot, but just take a minute to meet him. Then give yourself a little time to get to know him. I can't tell you how important it is to the whole town to get Mattie back to where he was—or at least a little closer.”

Deydie's voice reverberated in Emma's head.
Ye're one of us
. If Emma really was considered to be part of Gandiegow, then she would have to at least meet the boy.

“All right,” she finally said. “But I can't make any promises.”

Cait squeezed her hand and stood. “You're a godsend.”

As Moira and the child walked over, Emma became more tightly wound. She was afraid she'd be like a spring and pop out of her seat and flee out the door. She wasn't a therapist anymore. Why did these people keep putting her in these uncomfortable situations?

Cait hugged Mattie to her side and spoke to him. “This is Emma Castle.”

He nodded, not looking unhappy to meet her. He hesitated for a second, then stepped out of his mother's arms and produced his hand for Emma to shake. Very grown-up for one so young.

“It's nice to meet you, Mattie.” What else could she say to the child?

Cait pointed to the kitchen area. “How about you and Emma have a cookie while I get the next workshop going?”

Mattie regarded her closely, and Emma realized she'd have to watch herself with this one. Those big eyes of his caught everything.

“Yes, that would be nice.” When Emma rose, Mattie surprised her by putting his hand in hers and leading her away.

Okay, now what was she supposed to do? Research had proven that children were not little adults; children used completely different thought patterns. And what little she knew about trauma-induced mutism she could fit on an index card. They all acted like she had no choice but to step in and fix Mattie. Did his mother not know that Emma could do more harm than good? She would have to get Cait to sign an informed-consent waiver before she did anything.

They grabbed a cookie each and cups of cocoa, then sat at a small round table nearby. She didn't get a chance to say a word to the boy because Deydie rushed over.

“Mattie, run up to the big house and let out that dog. I've been too busy to get back up there.”

He glanced at his cup of cocoa.

“Drink up,” the old woman said. “But hurry. If that dog poops on your grandda's clean floor, I'll take the broom to him. Now get going.”

Relief swept over Emma that she wouldn't have to do this right now. She didn't like being unprepared, let alone being put on the spot. She really needed time to process Cait's request.

Deydie nudged her. “You go with him. I expect you back here later, though. Lots of work to do.” She looked none too happy about it. “Nothing wrong with the boy,” she muttered to herself.

Mattie looked over the edge of his mug for Emma's reaction as he took a big gulp. She made sure to keep her attitude in check about the expectations being laid upon her. All the Gandiegow quilters were still watching her. The connivers. They wanted her to perform a miracle. And that just gave her one more thing to worry about.

The two of them grabbed their coats and stepped out into the cold. It wasn't quite three thirty, but it was already getting dark. Some early Christmas decorations had been hung up by the businesses on the boardwalk while Emma was sewing up a storm today. The hours behind the sewing machine had kept her brain occupied, but now she couldn't help but wonder what Gabriel had been up to. She hadn't seen him at the restaurant this morning, either.

She gazed down at Mattie, feeling awkward as they ambled along in silence. She wasn't sure what to do. Was it better to remain quiet or to make small talk? She
would feel so much better once she had the chance to do a little research on his condition. They walked all the way to the end of town and then Mattie pointed to the path leading up behind the last cottage.

“Do you live up there?” she asked.

He nodded. That was the end of the short conversation. She followed him up the path to an honest-to-goodness mansion, a stone castle, really, which had been built close to some ruins.
What a beautiful setting,
she thought. . . . Until under the outside light of the back door, she saw a familiar man knocking.

G
abe knocked on the door and stood back, waiting. This was probably a dumb idea. If Deydie answered the door and gave him another earful, he wasn't sure his residual headache would allow him to be polite. Ramsay had drunk him under the table last night. He knocked again.

He'd promised Mattie he would stop by and get him. He needed to keep that promise. He'd spent all day at the factory again, which hadn't exactly occupied his mind as much as he'd hoped. He was sure that walking with Mattie would be just the thing to clear his head. Besides, he liked the kid.

The snow crunched behind him and he turned around. He couldn't believe he'd made them both materialize.

Emma brushed back her hair and squared her shoulders, but she wasn't fooling him. He clearly saw the relief spreading over her face at the sight of him. His chest expanded—confusing—but he was glad to see her, too. And he shouldn't be.

“Hallo. What are you two up to?” Gabe asked.

Mattie tilted his head up to Emma.

She cleared her throat. “I walked Mattie home.”

“I see.” He gave her a quizzical look, but she didn't
explain further. By her uncomfortable behavior, she must've been wrangled into evaluating Mattie.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Gabe pointedly.

“Mattie and I have a sort of guy thing we're supposed to do together,” he said.

“Well, I'd better leave you to it.” She looked ready to sprint down the bluff.

Mattie reached over and snatched her hand, stilling her.

“I don't think ye're allowed to leave,” Gabe said, smiling. “What do you say, Mattie—should we take her along?”

Mattie nodded but reached for the door handle. Gabe looked to Emma for an explanation.

“He's supposed to take the dog out.” The words barely slipped from her mouth before the sheltie bolted from the house.

Mattie grabbed a leash and ran after him, leaving the door wide-open.

Gabe pulled the door shut. “I guess Dingus is coming with us.”

“To where?” she asked, pushing back her hair once again.

For a moment, he was mesmerized by her cinnamon hair glowing under the light above the door. He recovered quickly, though. “We're just going to take a walk along the bluff. Maybe to the cemetery, if Mattie feels like it.”

Dingus ran and jumped on the boy, which gave him a chance to get the leash over his head. Mattie turned to them and motioned for them to hurry up.

“Shall we?” Gabe took her elbow and guided her in the right direction. She didn't jerk her arm away, but she did put distance between them.

Emma had always been direct with him, but it looked like she was going to pretend the hell-bent kiss they'd shared had never happened.
Fine by me
.

They caught up with Mattie and walked along the path that led up to the cemetery. Emma seemed to relax incrementally. Gabe did all the work on the conversation, keeping up a one-sided narrative with Mattie about school, the upcoming Christmas pageant, and if he had any homework due tomorrow.

Gabe finished by telling him about his day at the North Sea Valve Company. “Maybe the McDonnell
will let your school come to the factory when it's up and running. You'll have to wear a hard hat, though. It's the rules.”

Mattie looked back at him and smiled, like wearing a hard hat would be the pinnacle of the field trip.

Gabe glanced over at Emma and mouthed,
Your turn
.

Her shoulders stiffened but she spoke, anyway. “Mattie, did your mum tell you why she wanted us to get acquainted? That she wants me to consider continuing your therapy while I'm here? Which won't be very long at all.”

What the hell was that?
Gabe frowned at her. Didn't she have any finesse? Kids had to be handled carefully, cajoled. She should've just tried to make a little small talk with him and not be so direct. She was putting Mattie on the spot by asking him such an asinine question. He was just a kid, after all.

She squatted down to his level, keeping eye contact with him, treating him with respect. “You understand what I'm talking about, right?”

Mattie stared at her face for a long moment, searching. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw there, he nodded.

“Good. It's important you know the truth.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Here's the deal, Mattie. My specialty has been marriage therapy. I don't have a lot of experience with children.”

She may not have experience with children but her instincts were spot-on, if Mattie's reaction to her frank communication was an indicator. Apparently, she did know what she was doing.

“So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to do a little research first.” She brushed the hair back from the kid's eyes. “I know a lot of therapists. And if it's all right with you and your mum, I'd like to speak with the therapist you saw over the summer. Would that be okay?”

He nodded again, but then Dingus pulled on the leash. Mattie was dragged off.

She finished what she was saying, although the boy was out of earshot by now. “But the best we can hope for is for you and me to become friends.” She acted as if that would be the only possible outcome.

Gabe reached down and helped her back up. As she rose, she was so close that he breathed her in. Her cinnamon hair smelled like tangerines. Much more intoxicating than the whisky he'd drunk last night with Ramsay. He forced himself not to stare at her lips, which he didn't quite pull off. He couldn't help but want to kiss her again.

She stepped back and looked around to locate Mattie. She seemed satisfied he was out of earshot, and turned back to Gabriel with fire lighting her eyes. She poked him in the chest. “You could've warned me that the town was going to expect me to work with the boy. I thought they actually accepted me, but they were just getting ready to waylay me.”

He stepped back, too. “What makes you think I knew anything about this? If you haven't noticed, I'm not anywhere close to being in Gandiegow's inner circle. Or even their outer circle, for that matter.”

“You certainly didn't seem surprised to see Mattie and me out on a wintry stroll together.”

Up ahead, Mattie steered Dingus into the cemetery.
Gabe shrugged. “I put two and two together. That's all, Emma. If I'd known the town was going to do this to you, I promise I would've said something.” Hearing the words come out of his mouth, he was taken off guard. It sounded like he cared about her, wanted to protect her.

A guilty expression crossed her face.

“What?” he asked. “You could do a lot of good for the boy. You have talent. What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said.

Gabe didn't think it was nothing, but she looked closed on the subject. He watched as Mattie took the dog to his da's grave. He stopped Emma from going farther by touching her arm. “Let's wait here and give him some privacy.”

He never should've touched her. The kid was their chaperone but even that couldn't stop the sexually charged air between Gabe and Miss Priss from ratcheting up a notch. He changed his mind—he couldn't pretend the kiss hadn't happened. He had to straighten Emma out and explain how things would have to be between them.

“We need to talk,” he said.

Major worry played on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “Don't say anything that we'll both regret.”

“We have to clear the air, Emma, and now is as good a time as any.”

Her back stiffened. “Fine. Do your worst.”

“I shouldn't have kissed you the other night. I don't know what got into me.”

“Desperation?” she offered stiffly.

“I promise it won't happen again.”

If he'd thought his declaration would make her happy, he'd been wrong. She glowered at him.

“It was a one-off deal,” he added.

Anger radiated from her like sparks off a roaring fire. “Excellent,” she muttered in a whisper. It wasn't a whisper between lovers. It sounded like a threat.

Well, good. At least they'd gotten that straightened out. Gabe felt much better that Emma would no longer be a problem for him.

She glared at him one more time, then turned toward the cemetery and hollered. “Mattie, it's time to head back.”

*   *   *

Emma stomped off.
A one-off deal, her pedicured foot.

Gabriel might have regretted their kiss, but he was totally wrong to think it wouldn't happen again. He didn't control her. Emma
would
kiss him again—get
him
all hot and bothered, then douse him with cold water like he'd done to her. That's what the rogue deserved. To hell with being a proper English lady. Men like him explained why good women like her
snapped
. If Mattie hadn't been there, she would have.

Fuming, she kept on walking, wondering if she could get away with murder. Of course, now that her libido had been unleashed and she knew what she'd been missing, she didn't want to go without. So, first she would abuse Gabriel's lips to her heart's content. Then she'd toss the smug bastard to the curb.

Mattie and the doctor caught up with her. As they headed back to the mansion, there was no chatter from Gabriel. She said goodbye to Mattie at the door, but didn't wait around while the boy put the dog in the house. The doctor could see to that. She had to get away from him, stat.

In those few minutes as she walked off the bluff, she formulated different ways to make Gabriel pay. Would she sneak into the doctor's quarters in the middle of the night and kiss him awake? Or would she do what he'd done to her and back him up against a wall and kiss him until he cried uncle?

Or until he cries out my name.

Emma went to the restaurant to get something to eat before returning to Quilting Central. But when she
walked in, the place was packed, every seat taken. How could so many people be here with a retreat going on? She looked around. Where was Claire? With a crowd like this, someone had better be here to help out.

Emma found Dominic in the kitchen, filling eight bowls with pasta.

“What's going on out there?” She pointed to the dining room.

He glanced up. “I don't know. I think the locals are coming in shifts from Quilting Central.”

Emma grabbed a tray for the bowls he'd filled. “I'll take these in, but then I'll need to run and tell Deydie I can't work on the quilt for her tonight. I won't be gone but a minute.”

He shot her a determined look. “Don't bother. The rush is actually helping to keep my mind off yelling at Claire. You go on. But could you take the cheesecakes to Quilting Central, since you're going?” He motioned to the box on the far counter. “I just pulled them from the cooler.”

“Sure. But are you certain you don't want me to stay?”

“I'll be fine. Besides, I expect Gabe to be along anytime now.” Dominic took the filled tray from her and headed for the swinging doors.

Emma took the box and left the restaurant, hurrying down the boardwalk. With the snow falling on the village and the recently added strings of garland and multicolored blinking lights, the town was looking more and more like a winter wonderland. When she walked into Quilting Central, Mattie waved to her as she maneuvered her box in the door. She didn't dare wave back, but smiled at him instead. She immediately set out the cheesecake on the food table and grabbed a plate for herself.

When she looked up, Gabriel was watching her from
across the room. She turned away. Then she was mad at herself. He didn't have the upper hand with her, and she needed to make sure he understood that. When she glanced back, though, he held a wrench, working on the long-arm quilting machine with George Campbell.

As she finished her dessert, she saw Claire talking to Ailsa and Aileen, Gandiegow's matronly twins. As Emma started toward them, Deydie grabbed her by the arm.

“It's about time you made it back. The Gandiegow Doctor quilt has been waiting on you,” the old woman said.

“I need to have a word with Claire first.”

“Nay. Claire can wait. I need you to get to work.” Deydie tapped the man's watch strapped to her arm. “Time's a-wasting, missy.”

“Fine. But tell Claire I need to speak with her right away.” Emma went to her machine and started sewing. But a minute later, Cait was at her side with a folder in her hand.

“Well?” she asked.

“Mattie seems like a nice boy,” Emma said honestly.

“Then you'll try to help him?”

“I'll need a few things from you first.”

Cait handed her the folder. “I've already contacted Mattie's previous therapist and faxed over the paperwork giving you permission to speak with him. He's expecting your call for a time to set up a visit. He's only in Scotland for a few days. Then he's off to Budapest. Also in the folder are the standard consent and release forms to treat a child. Did I miss anything?”

Emma flipped through the pages, a little disgusted with herself for having the backbone of dental floss. “No, it looks like it's all here.” There was a business card with
the therapist's number on it. “You do realize I may not be of any help to Mattie, don't you?”

“Nay, I don't believe that for a second,” Cait said. “Claire says you're a wonderful therapist. Besides,” she added cheerily, “Gandiegow is a magical place. The impossible happens here every day. I'm living, breathing proof of that.”

Emma worked very hard not to roll her eyes. “We'll see.”

Cait patted her on the shoulder. “We're all counting on you.” Then she walked away, leaving Emma to mull over that frightening bit of truth.

She got to work, but sewing didn't hold her attention. Claire was up to something again, flitting from one person to the next. But tonight was different from last night. Instead of Claire receiving smiles or hugs, her frowning face had the village quilters frowning back. There were no soft expressions of compassion like last night, only anger and outrage from the women of Gandiegow.