To Scotland With Love (22 page)

Graham was like a son to Deydie, and she'd protect him from the devil himself. But every time she thought she might break the bad news, she couldn't. There was
something about Caitie's face. An expression. Especially when she looked upon Graham. Her eyes shone bright then. Deydie didn't know a damn thing about romance; too much work to be done to worry over that nonsense. But that look haunted her. That look spoke of love.

Deydie sighed heavily. Where there was love, there was always hope. Hope Caitie would do the right thing and not write that story. Besides, no need preparing the tar and feathers if the lass had second thoughts.

“I'll just watch and wait,” Deydie mumbled.

“Speak up,” Bethia scolded.

“I didn't say anything,” Deydie spouted. “Maybe it's time you got one of those hearing aids.”

* * *

Cait walked up and down the seashore at dusk, trying to work up her nerve to call Margery Pinchot. She'd put it off for most of the day. The cowardice in her wanted to send a text message and be done with it. But Cait was no coward. Besides, Margery deserved to hear Cait's voice. Finally, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

When Margery answered, Cait swallowed her pride and told the truth.

“This is Cait Macleod. I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner.”

“Is the story done?” Margery sounded frigid.

“I can't do it,” Cait confessed. “I never should've said I could, and I'm sorry I kept you hanging.” She took a deep breath and plowed on. “I was mistaken.”

It was the truth. Cait was mistaken about a lot of things. Mistaken that she could write a story about Graham and think it wouldn't hurt anyone. She was mistaken to think she could keep a professional distance from a town that she loved so much. And she'd been
mistaken for some time now that she could betray anyone. Even to save herself.

Margery handled it as well as could be expected. Obscenities flew through the cell phone towers between New York and Scotland. When she was done, Cait apologized again and hung up.

The deed was done, but the guilt still lingered. Her only consolation was that no one else knew what she'd been up to. She trudged to the big house and found she was still in a load of trouble with Deydie. The ole gal didn't give her two civilized words in a row but kept an eye on Cait as if the silverware and candlesticks would go missing.

Over the next several weeks, Cait concentrated on doing her best to take care of Duncan and Mattie to atone for nearly writing the story. Duncan called Graham every day now, and because Graham's schedule had gotten hectic, the incoming calls from Mr. Movie Star to her had dwindled. Between her gran's newfound contempt and Cait's infrequent contact with Graham, she felt alone all over again.

Mattie, though, was the one bright spot in her life.

In the evening, Duncan started going to bed earlier than Mattie. Cait dug out all her favorite books from Graham's collection and read to Mattie with him cuddled up on her lap.
Winnie-the-Pooh
was first, followed by
The Wind in the Willows
. It was their special time together where outside worries didn't intrude and the moments were magical. She could tell Mattie had come to care for her, too. His face lit up whenever she came into a room, and his smiles were easier, too. And for her, Mattie was everything. There was such a peace inside her
when she held Mattie, and it healed that part of her that had wanted a child of her own for so long.

The quilting ladies hadn't been back to the house for a sewing bee since that day when Cait had started on the bluff blocks. When she finished the row and handed it to Deydie, she posed the question she'd been burning to ask.

“So . . . when are the ladies coming back up to Graham's place to sew? I'd love to help with the Pinwheel quilt now that I'm done with my part of the round robin,” Cait said.

Deydie harrumphed. “They'll not be coming back up here. Ye'll not be helping with the Pinwheel quilt either. 'Tis already finished.”

“Can't they come here to put together the Our Town Gandiegow quilt?” Cait knew the answer by the fierce frown on Deydie's face.

“Gandiegow doesn't need yere brand of help.” Deydie shoved the stretch of fabric in her pocket, wrinkling it.

Suddenly, Cait could read it in her gran's eyes—she knew. She knew Cait had been planning to write an article about Graham.
Crap!
That was the reason for her recent scorn. Cait opened her mouth to tell Deydie the truth. That she hadn't been able to go through with it. That she couldn't expose Graham and betray Gandiegow.

But Mattie ran into the room and stopped her confession. He tugged on Cait's hand, the dog barking wildly at his side. Mattie had such urgency in his eyes that she hurried away with him, Deydie rushing after them both.

When they got to the media room, it seemed empty. Mattie pulled her in farther and then she saw.

Duncan had collapsed.

C
ait ran around the recliner to where Duncan lay on the floor. “Help me get him in the chair,” she said to Deydie.

Duncan put his hand up. “I stood too fast, that's all. I'll be fine.” They had to help him to his feet anyway. “There's no need to rat me out to Da.”

“Here, lean back.” Cait reclined his chair.

“I'll get you a wee bit of tea,” Deydie said. “That should fix you up.”

Duncan turned toward Mattie's anxious face. “Don't worry, monkey. Your Pops is all right.”

Mattie took his father's hand and held it to his chest.

“Climb up there, Mattie,” Cait said. “And keep an eye on him.”

“Ah, Caitie, I'm fine,” Duncan complained, but Mattie did as he was told, cuddling close to his da.

Duncan's cell phone lay on the floor and “We Are the Champions” rang out.

“Hand the phone to me,” he said. “It's Da.”

Cait picked it up, and instead of relinquishing the phone, she stepped just outside the media room.
“Impeccable timing. Duncan has taken a spill. Mattie found him on the floor, but I think he's okay. He said he got dizzy when he stood up too fast.”

Graham sighed. Cait could almost hear him running his hand through his hair.

“I'll be home tonight. Wait up for me,” Graham said.

“Sure. But everything is under control here,” she assured him. “I don't think you need to come home.”

“I have to see him. I won't be able to stay long, but I need to come.”

“I understand,” she said.

“Good.” Graham hung up.

Cait walked back into the room and saw Duncan's color had returned.

“Good news, fellas.” Cait handed the phone back, trying to sound the epitome of optimism. “Grandda is making a quick visit home. How about bangers and mash for breakfast?”

Mattie nodded his head, but Duncan only frowned at her.

Cait put her hands on her hips. “Hey, I promised to keep your da apprised. You wouldn't want me to be negligent in my duties, now, would you?”

Duncan shook his head. “Hand me the remote control.”

He wasn't happy with her, but tough noodles.

Deydie brought the tea in and perched near Duncan, keeping her eagle eyes on him while at the same time working on some hand stitching.

With everything under control, Cait slipped out and stood against the wall in the hall, trying to calm the butterflies hopping around in her stomach.
Graham coming
home. Wanting her to wait up.
She tried giving herself a good talking to, repeated her mantra about
self-preservation
over and over again, but nothing worked. She almost ran upstairs to take a cold shower, but instead went to make the promised bangers and mash.

At one twenty
A
.
M
.
, Graham came through the door. Cait sat in her pajamas on a barstool with a magazine in her hand, but she hadn't been able to read a word. She was wound way too tight, not knowing where she stood with him. Did he care about her even a little, or was she just a convenience? It took everything in her not to jump up and run into his comforting arms.

Graham shocked her by dropping his overnight bag and making a beeline for her. He wrapped himself around her and kissed her. When he ended the kiss, he pushed a lock of her hair off her cheek.

“Let me check in on Duncan and then we'll go to bed,” he said.

Okay, there was a whole lot of ambiguity going on in that sentence
. Did he mean separate beds? Or
Let's make mad passionate love all night long
?

She opened her mouth for clarification, but he only gave her another kiss. When she opened her eyes again, he was on his way upstairs.

She had no choice but to follow. She still didn't have any answers as to where she stood with him, but she wanted to make him feel better. And she knew if she did that, it would make her feel better, too.

She could give herself to him fully and still protect herself, couldn't she?

When she got to the top of the stairs, Graham was stepping back out into the hall, pulling Duncan's door closed. He took her hand and guided her into his room.

Well, that answered at least one of her questions—his bed, then.

As soon as Graham shut the door behind her, he pulled her into his arms and burrowed into her neck. “God, Caitie, I need you. I've needed you every night since I left.”

“I need you, too,” she admitted. She pulled away to look into his eyes. “But I have to know one thing first. Are you going to regret us being together like you did the last time?” She gazed upon his face, searching for the truth.

“I was an idiot before. You gave me a gift and I threw it back in your face. I'm so sorry.” He brushed back her hair. “You have to know, lass, I treasure our time together.”

That was exactly what she needed to hear. She could spend the rest of the night analyzing everything he did and said but chose to switch off her brain and live in the here and now.

She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him back, putting all the emotion she felt for him into that one moment.

He slid his hand into her hair and pulled her head gently back, making her open more to him. And like that,
she was his
. Bare, vulnerable, his for the taking.

For as much as they were both turned on—Graham's erection pressed into her—he seemed to want to make their time together last. He peeled back her clothes with care and gentleness, kissing every bit of exposed flesh along the way. She did the same to him. Every once in a while, he would stop and gaze into her eyes. He cared for her, and she knew it all the way to her heart.

When they were naked, he steered her to the bed
and stretched out beside her. They touched, caressed, kissed, and joined together like forever lovers. It was sweet and lasting, a memory she would hold close to her always.

Afterward, they held each other for a long time and then made love again. When they finally fell asleep, she was spooned into him, his arm protectively around her waist, the puppy lying at their feet.

Early in the morning, Mattie crawled into bed and climbed on top of Graham.

“Hey, sport.” Graham tickled him, pulling the sheet tighter around Cait so her bare ass and other essentials wouldn't be exposed.

“Why don't you two go start the breakfast?” she said to them. “I'll be down in a minute.”

Graham shooed Mattie out while he dressed. Before leaving, he kissed her nose. “See you in a minute, lass.”

Deydie would broomify Cait if she caught her buck naked in Graham's bed. Quickly, Cait crawled out, hugging the sheet to her, and zipped off to the guest bathroom with Deydie nowhere in sight. Cait quickly showered, hyperaware of her body, everywhere Graham had touched. Her belly turned warm and full just thinking about their night of loving.

But no words of love had been spoken. And no matter what she saw in his eyes in the heat of passion, she had to stop this nonsense. Stop casting them in some stupid fairy tale. They were having an affair, plain and simple. It didn't mean a damn thing to Graham; he had affairs all the time. She certainly hadn't fallen in love or some ridiculous drivel like that, and she'd be damned if she let him think that she had, too. To prove it, she didn't get all dolled up for him but dressed in her grungiest jeans and
put no makeup on. She was still Cait Macleod, single and proud of it. She headed downstairs.

Graham looked up as she came in the kitchen, gazing at her with sappy eyes. “You look more beautiful this morning than you did last night.”

Cait turned to Mattie. “Grandda needs a pair of glasses.” She helped herself to a banana.

Mattie gave her a small grin.

Graham put a hand on his little shoulder. “Don't listen to her, Mattie. Caitie is one of a kind.”

She sat there quite dazed—how easily he could derail her. Even with a corny compliment.

He poured her a cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar, and set it in front of her on the counter.

Duncan came in the kitchen, scrubbing his face. “I'll take one of those.” Sleep hadn't helped his coloring at all.

Graham surveyed his son for a moment, then did the darnedest thing. Gave Duncan a hug. It shocked the hell out of Duncan, too.

“Aw, Da, I'm right as rain. Caitie blew it out of proportion.”

She put her hands on her hips, but stopped. These two were making up. If she had to be the scapegoat—well, so be it.

Graham let go of his son and grabbed a mug. “Milk and sugar, too?”

“That's how I like it,” Duncan replied, smiling.

Mattie looked from one to the other of his male relations, and for one glorious moment, he wasn't the sad little boy but had transformed into a normal kid with a contented glow on his face.

They spent the day playing board games with Mattie
and shooting the breeze in front of the fire. Every time Cait tried to slip out to give them privacy, one of them, usually Graham, would pull her back into their midst, so she finally gave in—they sincerely wanted her around.

Deydie made a short appearance in the morning. She delivered a list of grievances to Graham, then announced she'd be spending the rest of the day with Amy and Moira working on the Our Town
quilt. Cait knew better than to ask to help. Besides, the clock was ticking. Cait shouldn't want to spend as much time with Graham as possible before he left, but dammit, she did.

Before she knew it, Graham was shoving clothes into his overnight bag, preparing to head down to the beach to meet the helicopter.

In the doorway of the parlor, he stopped and turned to Duncan. “Son, don't get upset, but I've hired a couple of nurses to keep watch over you.”

“Da,” Duncan warned. “I'm too old to have babysitters.”

“I didn't do it for you. I did it for me,” Graham said. “I worry. Having them here will ease my mind. Besides, I believe the pressure has been too much for Caitie and Deydie.”

Cait started to argue but didn't get the chance.

Graham went on. “You're not too upset with me, are you?”

“Asking permission first would've been grand,” Duncan said, not sounding too angry.

“That's an idea.” Graham smiled. “I'll take that under advisement.”

“Thanks,” Duncan said. “You're a real team player.”

“Dunc?” Graham went all serious. “You will take care, won't you?”

Duncan forced a smile. “Sure, Da.”

* * *

The nurses arrived the next day and handed Cait two nondisclosure agreements. “We were told by the agency to give these to you.”

“Thanks.” Cait took the signed papers, then set the two nurses up in the rooms on the third floor.

Deydie made certain the Florence Nightingales understood the newly revised volunteer list hanging on the refrigerator and promptly left. Cait still needed to set her grandmother straight that she hadn't written the story on Graham. She just couldn't get her alone to do it. And whenever she thought they might get that moment, Deydie would disappear, acting as if being near Cait was the last thing in the world she wanted.

Graham's home turned into a regular Four Seasons. He should've installed a revolving door for as many people who traipsed in and out each day. When Mattie wasn't at school, she played with him while Duncan rested. On Thursdays, Ross, Duncan's closest friend, took Duncan to his doctor's appointment in Aberdeen. After returning home, they'd sit by the fire, sipping Scotch that probably wasn't what the doctor had ordered.

Duncan continued to call Graham every day, but now Graham called her every night as well, usually very late, sometimes waking her up.

“We're having long days here,” he'd tell her. “I just need to hear a voice from home.”

He's homesick for you,
her irrational heart sighed. And then it would pound away at her chest like a slap-happy clogger.

Her reasonable self knew better: Any voice from home would do. She wasn't anything special. Just his Gandiegow friend with benefits.

The days without Graham passed pretty slowly. But whenever the nurses e-mailed reports to him about Duncan, Cait was sure to get an extra call to confirm what the nurses had said.

On February 2nd, Cait brought Groundhog Day to Scotland. She and Mattie celebrated by printing out pictures of the cuddly creature and pasting them to paper crowns to wear at dinner. Duncan wasn't up to sitting at the table, so Mattie ate with him in his room, both of them wearing their crowns.

“When are you coming home?” Cait asked Graham that evening.

“I don't know. The weather hasn't cooperated for the outdoor shoots.”

“You will be home by Valentine's Day, won't you? Mattie is counting on it. He's been decorating your office with hearts,” she confided. “But you didn't hear it from me.”

“I'll get home as soon as I can. It's the only promise I can make.”

“Everyone misses you.” The truth was that she missed him the most—his stupid cocky grin, his übergood looks, and the way he held her close in the darkness of his bedroom.

“I miss you, too,” he said.

On Shrove Tuesday, two nights before the Valentine's Day Céilidh, Graham came in the back door. He hugged Mattie, Duncan, Deydie, and then headed for Cait.

The pancake she was making flipped onto the stovetop.

“Don't I get a welcome-home hug from you?” Graham asked Cait.

Cait smiled but held up a blocking hand. “I'm busy. It's Pancake for Dinner Day. Go get washed up.”

They had a nice evening together, though Deydie kept glaring at Cait and muttering. Cait breathed a sigh of relief when it came time to clean the kitchen and her gran headed out the back door to her own cottage. Peace fell over the house. Unfortunately, along with it came some time to think.

Where was she supposed to sleep now that Graham was home? Nothing had been said, and now it was late.