The Trouble with Scotland (18 page)

Deydie dug another piece of paper out and handed it over. “And here's the quilt ye're going to make for yereself.”

“What?” she protested. “
I'm
not going to make any quilt.” But then Sadie looked down at the design, staring at it for a long moment. Once again her quilt block was in the center, but this time, the blocks surrounding the medallion represented a Sampler.

“Oliver mentioned yere gran loved Sampler quilts. With the winning block that the two of ye made, it would make a fine memory quilt.” Deydie set a hand on her shoulder as if to steady her for the rest. “This is going to be a beautiful, special quilt. Oliver contacted one of your gran's quilting friends, and she went over to yere house and put together some of yere gran's favorite fabrics. The box is on its way. It should be here tomorrow.”

What? No! Gigi's favorite fabrics are going to haunt me here?

“I have to leave. I have to get back home,” Sadie repeated more forcibly.

Deydie cackled at her. “That's not what Oliver says. He says ye're free to stay in Gandiegow as long as we need ye.”

Oliver could go to blazes! He'd only said that because he was hot for Kirsty, and he wouldn't let Sadie out of his sight for one second.

“And we need ye!” Deydie pounded her on the back, but stopped suddenly. “I didn't hurt ye, did I?”

Sadie looked around desperately for someone to help get her out of this. But the only other person there was Ross. He didn't look happy about her staying, either, if his scowl was any indication.

Sadie had to admit that it hurt to know he didn't want her there.
I thought we were friends.
Not typical friends, perhaps, but friends with kissing benefits.

“I suggest ye hurry up there, lassie. Ye have instructions to write up for the teaching of yere block. Do what ye can do with yere books, and while Ross is building the shelves, ye can camp out over there and make yere lesson plans.”

A part of Sadie had to laugh. She'd been steamrollered most of her life, but Deydie was in a league of her own when it came to bossiness.

Now Deydie turned on Ross. “Why are ye just standing there? Ye've got to get to work on these shelves.”

Ross shoved his hands in his pockets. “I'll finish unloading the truck first. Where do you want the fabrics?”

“Bring them here. We'll get the tablecloths sewn and then ye can drop them off at the restaurant. It's going to be a hell of a reception.”

The door to Quilting Central opened.

“There's the groom now,” Deydie said. “Father, come over here. I want to speak to ye about the wedding.”

Father Andrew backed away a little, looking ready to make a run for it. “I—I just stopped in to pick up a basket for Mrs. Bruce. She asked if I could bring it by, as her youngest has a cold.” He stayed glued to his spot as if coming in farther would be against his religion.

Deydie waddled away to retrieve the basket from the table.

Ross met him at the door and muttered under his breath. “Get out while ye can, Andrew. That woman is on a roll.”

“I heard that, Ross,” Deydie hollered from clear across the room. “I think the good Father should help ye today with the shelves. If not, I'm sure he could help with the decorations for the wedding reception.”

Andrew looked at Sadie and her bags of books. “Let me drop this off first, and then I'll come back and help with the shelves.”

“Good decision,” Ross said.

Andrew took the basket from Deydie and slipped out the door.

Ross glanced one more time at Sadie before he left, too.

She thought she would breathe easier now that he was gone. Until she looked at Deydie.

The old woman was glaring at her. “Put yere bait away, lassie. Ye won't catch that one. For yere sake, I hope ye don't have yere heart set on Ross.” Sadie heard the unspoken words.
He's too good for the likes of ye . . . with yere plain face and second-rate kidneys.

“I don't have my heart set on anyone,” Sadie protested haughtily. “I need him to get my shelves finished, is all.”

“Then ye better mind how ye look at him. He's not going to be the captain of yere vessel.”

Enough with the fishing analogies, already.

“I have work to do.” Sadie turned back to her books.

But two seconds later, when the door opened again, she swung around in stupid anticipation . . . and was let down.

Oliver came through with a couple of boxes in his arms. “For you,” he announced to Sadie.

“Me? What is it?”

“Actually, it's for Quilting Central's library. I got a deal on a laptop and a bar code scanner in Inverness.”

Did she seriously need a bar code scanner for this small library? Couldn't they just do it the old-fashioned way? But Oliver looked so pleased with himself.

“I already cleaned up the computer and loaded the software for the scanner. I'll show you how to use the wand and input the books.”

“Thanks, Oliver,” she said. “You've gone to a lot of trouble.”

He turned pink around his ears. “It wasn't a big deal.”

Maybe, though, he was feeling guilty for signing her up for things he didn't have the right to.

“So Deydie tells me that
you've
volunteered to be an instructor for the next quilt retreat.”

Oliver's ears went from pink to red. “Funny, sis.” He set the boxes on the sofa.

“What gave you the right to volunteer me? And who made you my keeper?”

“God,” he shot back.

“Cut it out, Oliver. I mean it.”

Before he could answer, the door jingled again. Sadie was certain this time it would be Ross, but Kirsty blew through the door, literally. She had to pull the door closed behind her.

“The wind's really picked up,” she sang out.

Oliver gazed at the schoolteacher as if she was a sleek new CPU. “What's going on?”

She held up the scanner wand with the attached cord. “Ye left this at my flat.” Then she noticed Deydie, and blushed. That's when Sadie realized that Kirsty's lips looked swollen and well kissed. And she was positively beaming at Oliver as she handed over the wand.

Sadie rolled her eyes at her brother. Yes, there was the reason she was stuck in Gandiegow: Oliver's hormones.

To Sadie's, and apparently Kirsty's, surprise, Deydie nodded her head approvingly. “Come here, lass, and get yereself a cup of tea. Ye look thirsty.” She latched on to Kirsty's arm and dragged her away, whispering conspiratorially.

“What do you think?” Oliver asked her.

“That you should prepare yourself for a shotgun wedding?”

Oliver was the one to roll his eyes this time. “Not that. Do you think the equipment will work for the library?”

Sadie thought it was overkill, but what good would it do to say so? “It's perfect.”

Once again the door opened. She was being ridiculous . . . waiting stupidly for Ross to reappear. She was cranking her head around so often that where her neck was she should've installed a hinge instead. This time, it was Father Andrew returning, wearing a pair of faded
jeans and a T-shirt. He could've been one of the local fishermen.

“Hold the door,” a familiar voice said. Ross came in with a tool bag in one hand and a couple of boards in the other. “Abraham had these lying around. Can ye get the other end, Andrew? I'm about to drop them.” The wind blew the door toward Ross and the boards slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a clatter.

Deydie came charging at him. “Be careful. If ye scratch the hardwood, I'll fillet ye, Ross Armstrong!”

Andrew scrambled to help pick them up. Together the two of them carried the boards over to where Sadie stood, and she moved back to give them room.

Oliver glared at Ross as if to warn him not to even look at Sadie.

Now the women of Gandiegow began to pour into the building, and Sadie did her best to ignore those who reminded her most of Gigi. Not all of them, after all, were up in years and gray-haired.

Moira appeared with a tray and set it on the coffee table. “Some refreshments?” she said, with a smile for her beau.

Andrew came to stand by Moira and kissed her cheek, love shining in his eyes.

“How are the wedding plans going?” Ross asked.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Don't ask. The quilting ladies have taken it to new artistic heights.”

“But I like Gandiegow's traditions,” Moira said quietly, glancing at Deydie.

“What kind of traditions?” Sadie asked.

“Well, some of them are pretty common, I guess. But we have some . . . superstitions, I suppose,” Moira said.

“Tell me.” With her glass in hand, Sadie sat down on the sofa, where Moira and Andrew joined her.

“Little things. Like good omens. One of Mama's favorite stories was that Papa surprised her with a sighting of a gray horse.”

Andrew and Ross both nodded their heads as though they understood.

“What's special about a gray horse?” Sadie asked.

Moira smiled at her fondly. “It's considered good luck for the bride to see a gray horse on her way to the kirk. So Papa left nothing to chance. Apparently, it took him a trip two shires over to find a gray horse, and then several hard-earned pounds to get the horse transported to Gandiegow for Mama to see.” The bride glanced up, as if imagining the horse walking down the steep road leading into the village. “In Mama's mind, that was true love.”

Moira glanced over at her betrothed and smiled at him, but with a hint of tears in her eyes. Her parents were gone; Sadie could relate. But now Moira was beginning her new life with her true love.

Andrew took her hand and squeezed it, and as if that didn't seem enough, he kissed it, too.

Deydie hurried over. “I need ye two over there to look at swatches. It's yere day we're planning here. Everything has to be done right.”

Andrew rose, offering his hand to Moira. “Duty calls.”

“Thanks for the refreshments,” Sadie said.

“Ye're welcome.”

Sadie watched as they strolled away, arm in arm. She refused to glance at Ross to see if he was as affected by the love that poured from them, too.

Oliver waved a hand in front of Sadie's face, making her jump.

“When did you come back over here?” She looked about the room, but Kirsty was gone.

Oliver began fiddling with the computer cables. “Kirsty had to run back to the school to get paper for Bethia. Something about the wedding shower. I'll pull a table over here and get you set up.”

“Thanks. That would be great.”

Ross began pounding with his hammer. Andrew returned and joined in the construction.

Oliver quickly set her up. But as he was showing her how to get started, Kirsty walked back into the building. One nod from her and Oliver deserted Sadie, heading for the door and following the schoolteacher out as if tethered to her.

Well, Sadie couldn't judge. She was overly focused on a certain Scot too. In fact, she couldn't help but drink in every word that was being said between him and Father Andrew as they worked on the shelves a few feet over.

“I don't envy ye.” Ross glanced to where the women were chattering away about the wedding.

Andrew shrugged. “I want to marry Moira, no matter what it takes.” He nodded in the direction of Deydie and her followers. “My advice to you is when ye go to get married, don't let them talk ye into a big wedding. Run off and elope.”

“Don't worry. I'm not going to marry for a long, long time.” Ross locked eyes with Sadie, as if he was making his point loud and clear.

He was doing that a lot lately. And she didn't understand why.

She was feeling a good sulk coming on. If only she could go home today, she wouldn't be subjected to feeling like this. In the next second, she was braving a glance to see if Ross was still looking in her direction. He wasn't, but Emma was. She broke away from the group across the room and made a beeline for Sadie.

Crap.
Sadie needed to watch her emotions. By the determined line of Emma's mouth, she had therapy on her mind.

Sadie put her head back down, pretending to be engrossed in scanning and entering the books into the computer. She liked Emma, but she wasn't in the mood to have her mental state dissected.

“It's time,” Emma said. “I've left you alone long enough.”

Sadie didn't reply. She only reached for the next book.

Emma sat, laying a hand on her arm. “I can see Deydie has put you to work. I'm sorry. If you don't want to babysit, I fully understand.”

Sadie's head shot up. “Babysit?”

“Yes. I've been putting off buying a dress for the wedding.” Emma glanced back over at the crowd of women. “I had hoped those last few baby pounds would melt away first.” She patted her hips good-naturedly. “I've decided to embrace them instead. Gabriel says he likes that I have meat on my bones—
more to hang on to
.” She laughed again. “His words, not mine.”

Sadie thought Emma was beautiful. Perfect.

“When would you like me to watch Angus?”

Emma squished up her face as if she hated to ask. “Today? This afternoon? If that works for you. I could
put Angus down for his nap and then Gabriel and I could sneak out.”

“Yes. This afternoon would be fine.”

“One o'clock?”

Sadie barely got her “yes” out before Deydie started hollering.

“Emma, if ye're done jabbering, can ye run up to the big house and get my other notebook?”

Emma smiled at Deydie. “Of course. No problem.”

“Big house?” Sadie asked.

“Graham Buchanan's home.”

“Oh. That's right.” She knew the star lived in town, but had forgotten to ask which cottage was his, Cait's, and Mattie's. She was just starting to realize that maybe she'd been a little self-absorbed lately.