Glasgow Grace (14 page)

“Everything has been arranged for Monday. You just go and do what you need to, Dr. McGuire. I’ll hold the fort.”

“Like you always do, Linda. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Linda grinned and turned to Skye. “Maybe now’s the time to ask for a raise.”

“Maybe another time.” Callum slipped his arm into Skye’s. “We should go. You hungry?”

“Starved.”

“We can grab a sandwich from the hospital cafeteria on our way out. Is that all right?”

“Perfect.”

Seated inside the vehicle, their hunger tamed, Callum turned to Skye and took her hand in his. He thrilled at the feeling of the symbol of their betrothal against his skin. At last. “I have good news and bad news.”

Skye pulled a face. “Um, bad news first.”

“The Blacksmith’s Shop cannot help us with a wedding ceremony tomorrow.”

Disappointment carved its way into her expression as she stared at Callum.

A smile toyed with his mouth. “They can only help us tonight.”

She caught her breath, the reality of what he’d said sinking in. “We’re getting married tonight?”

Callum nodded, feeling his grin reach further across his face.

She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Callum. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always wanted an evening wedding. It’s so enchanting.”

“I know. I remembered.”

Her eyes danced. “You didn’t ask for a booking for tomorrow, did you?”

He laughed. “No. But the fact that they had a cencellation for tonight did help. I hope you don’t mind leaving this afternoon instead.”

“The sooner the better, my love, but you had better start praying we don’t bump into my mother at the hotel when we collect my luggage.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all morning?” He twirled a thick strand of her hair around his fingers.

“Planning a wedding, I hope.”

“And a honeymoon.”

“You remembered that, too?”

Allowing the lock to fall from his hand, Callum cupped her cheek. “What do you think?”

“You’ve booked us into a castle for our honeymoon?”

The grin returned to Callum’s face. He’d keep her wondering about something. He said nothing more.

~*~

How did her mother always manage to get under her skin so? As much fun as shopping for a wedding dress on such short notice was, Rita Robinson gnawed in the back of Skye’s mind with each new gown she tried on. Mother had been wrong in her actions, so why did Skye feel so rotten about last night? Had she been too harsh in arranging a separate room? Or was it the fact that she was getting married without breathing a word to the woman who’d given birth to her? Or perhaps because she hadn’t confided in the one with whom daughters shared their heartaches, that she might be terminally ill. Imagine what she’d do with that information. She’d either not return to Australia at all, or she’d ship Skye back home, even if she had to do so in a crate.

A pent-up sigh demanded release. Skye obliged. Why were mother and daughter relationships so complicated? Or was it just this particular mother and daughter?

She had no choice. Once they got to Gretna Green, and she was alone, she’d call her mother. She should at least tell her that she was about to walk down the aisle with Callum. But she dare not tell her about the cancer.

“That one is spectacular on you, Miss Hunter.” The saleswoman smoothed the white lace hugging Skye’s body.

It was perfect. More than she’d ever dreamed of. Elegant. Sophisticated. Lace flared at her wrists and spilled halfway over her hands from the long sleeves that covered her arms like a second skin, vowing to do their utmost to keep her warm. Only the promise of a train followed her as she walked—perfect for the snowy weather. Wouldn’t want miles of fabric trailing behind in the snow.

Skye glanced over her shoulder at her reflection in the full-length mirror. A gold-edged chiffon band accentuated her waist, while tiny lace-covered buttons dotted the length of her back like the undulations of her spine.

“I agree. This is the one.”

She chose a long, white, hooded cape edged with soft, fluffy faux fur to keep her warm while outdoors, and white ankle-length high-heeled boots, trimmed in the same fur, for her feet. She decided against a veil—she had the cape. Besides, she had no father who would walk her down the aisle and lift the delicate fabric to kiss her goodbye as he gave her to the man of her dreams. Da would have given her away to Callum with his blessing.

She’d style her hair in a side-swept French bun—simple and easy to do on her own. Upon entering Belles & Beaus, Skye had noticed some delicate hair-decorations. She would choose an appropriate one before leaving.

With her choices made, Skye handed over Callum’s platinum credit card to the teller. He had insisted on paying for whatever she needed. Waiting for the transaction to go through, Skye retrieved her cellphone and dialed. She smiled as the call connected. “I’m ready.”

“So am I.” Callum released a throaty laugh that told Skye his response had nothing to do with the fact that he was already on his way. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of becoming his wife in every sense of the word. She couldn’t wait.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he added.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Skye cut the call, and then checked for missed calls. None. Messages? Zero. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t tried to contact her. What was she up to?

~*~

After opening the door of the BMW for Skye, Callum popped the trunk and placed the wedding dress, hidden from his sight in a protective garment cover, on top of his own outfit. At the back of the trunk lay his guitar case, and in front of that, the bridal bouquet he’d ordered. The beautiful white flowers peeked at him from the box they’d been specially packaged in for safe transportation. The florist had assured him more than once that the arrangement would survive the eighty-minute journey. It would take a little longer to get to Gretna Green, however. They still had to collect Skye’s things at the hotel.

He shot another prayer to heaven before sliding into the driver’s seat.
Lord, please keep Rita Robinson out of our way.

Skye stared at him, her eyes bright. “Did you borrow your brother’s car for our—”

Callum burst into laughter.

Her eyes narrowed and creases formed on her forehead. “Oh, you…this was your car all along.” She punched him in the shoulder. Soft enough not to hurt; hard enough to let him know not to try something like that again.

“I’m sorry,” he managed as his chortles subsided. “Are you done shopping?”

“Aye.”

“Crowne Plaza Hotel?”

Pulling a face, she replied. “Aye.” She, too, was worried about running into Rita Robinson.

Callum slid the key into the ignition. “How fast can you pack?”

“Faster than my mother.”

“That fast?”

Skye snuggled against his arm, her hand smoothing the fabric of his jeans. Her touch on his leg fanned the flame of desire. The diamond sparkling on her finger reminded him that soon she’d be his wife.

“That fast. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Callum.”

He was beyond ”cannot wait.” He drew in a deep breath. Dare he ask the question that had burned on his lips since last night? He had no choice. It was an issue they couldn’t avoid, something that needed to be discussed.

“What about your career?”

She sat upright, turning her gaze from him and stared through the windshield. “I’m no fool. My chance has come and gone.
Phantom of the Opera
was my big break. Now it’ll be nothing but a haunting memory. I cannot kid myself that it will be anything less than months before I’d be ready to sing again…if at all.” Looking back at Callum, she attempted a smile. “Can we please cross that bridge when it comes? If it comes?”

He reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Of course. It’s not like we’re strangers to crossing bridges together.” Turning the key in the ignition, Callum started the car and merged into the flow of traffic. “Have you contacted your boss yet? Duncan Boyd?”

She shook her head.

“Shouldn’t you do that? Give him fair warning to find a replacement and do some damage control on the promotions?”

“I will. Just not today. Or tomorrow. I want to enjoy my wedding day and first day of marriage to the full without having that conversation.”

“Fair enough.”

Back at the hotel, Callum and Skye sneaked inside and hurried toward the elevator, their furtive glances searching for a glimpse of Rita. Nothing. Reaching the end of the fourteenth-floor corridor unnoticed, they released a sigh and bundled inside Skye’s hotel room, laughing.

Skye pulled a suitcase from her cupboard, and set about packing. “How much should I take?”

“Why not take it all? It’s not like you’ll be coming back here to stay. You might as well check out now.”

“Do we have time?”

Callum smiled. “We have time.”

“Do you realize I’ve no idea what my new home is like?”

“Home’s where the heart is, Skye, but I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

With his help, it didn’t take long before a bellhop was pushing Skye’s luggage through the hotel reception. At least this would save Mr. Boyd a few hundred pounds. Little compensation, though, for losing his leading lady.

After checking Skye out, Callum rearranged the contents of the trunk, some items landing on the back seat, to accommodate his fiancée’s belongings. His fiancée. Sounded so good.

Soon they were cruising south down the A74 motorway, singing along to the yuletide tune playing on the radio. The afternoon’s wintery skies had darkened, and the BMW’s headlights reflected in the snow-covered verges.

Between the music, their voices, and the fact that Skye’s cellphone was in her bag at her feet, Callum almost never heard the ringing. He stopped mid-sentence and turned the radio’s volume down. Skye still continued singing a few more words.

“Your phone….”

Skye snatched her bag from the floor and rummaged inside until the ringing became louder. She’d found her phone.

Skye swiped the screen and held the device to her ear.

“Duncan…”

~*~

Just the conversation she didn’t want to have today. But perhaps it was best to get this over with. She’d certainly rest easier knowing the awful deed was scrapped from her checklist. “It’s good to hear your voice. How has your holiday been?”

“It’s been a great rest, Skye. Heaven knows how much I needed it. Especially with a busy and challenging year ahead.”

Great. Now she was about to make it even more challenging for him. Still, this wasn’t her fault. There are instances where one has no control, such as one’s health. “Oh, I forgot to wish you and your family a Merry Christmas, Duncan.”

He let out a howl. “Likewise. Now it’s almost time to wish each other a happy New Year.”

“Perhaps it’s best we do so while we’re on the phone. We might not get another chance.”

“Nonsense, Skye. I’ll see you bright and breezy Monday morning. It’s moving day, remember. And soon, it’ll be practice day. I bet you can’t wait to start rehearsals. The role of Christine is such a beautiful one, and highly sought after. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have signed you as my star.”

That was all she needed to hear.
At least he shouldn’t struggle to replace me or my understudy should he choose to promote her.

“About that…”

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you Skye? It’s just nerves. It’ll pass, I guarantee.”

Skye grasped Callum’s hand. He squeezed it, letting her know he was there for her. With him by her side, she could do anything.

“No, it’s not nerves Duncan. I’ve been performing long enough to have overcome stage fright.” She closed her eyes and breathed, blinking away her welling tears. The show would go on without her. “I’m afraid I have some really bad news.”

12

I am so blessed to have this amazing man still in love with me. Thank you, Lord…

Callum had spent the rest of the journey encouraging Skye, trying to lift her spirits—and succeeded. She had to marry this man fast, before anything prevented that from happening.

After checking in at the Anvil View Guest House, a stone’s throw from the Old Blacksmith’s Shop, Callum unpacked what Skye needed, hung her wedding dress, and ran her a bubble bath.

“Now, you have a good soak. I’m going to Old Smithies to finalize arrangements, and then I’ll be in my room getting ready to marry you. Is ninety minutes enough time for you?”

“Too much. The sooner we’re standing at that anvil, the better.”

Callum wrapped her in his arms. “Have you ever felt like you could explode with expectation?”

Skye nodded. “I feel like that right now.”

He kissed her hair, and then trailed his lips across her cheek until they found hers. His hands caressed her back. “I hate to go,” he said, his voice husky.

“Think on the bright side, my love. After tonight, we’ll never be separated again.”

Except in death.

She tightened her grip on him, fear threatening the peace she desperately tried to hold on to. Where had that thought come from?

“What’s wrong?” He smoothed his hands up and down her back, the action different from moments before—assuaging, no longer ardent.

“I-I never want to lose you again.”

“You won’t,” he whispered with a kiss.

She mustered a smile. “Good. Now you had better go so that this bride can prepare herself.”

Callum paused in the doorway. “I will love you both sides of eternity.”

With a sob, Skye rushed into his arms and Callum held her tight. “I promise to be the best wife I can.”

“I know you will.”

Closing the door on his smile, Skye headed for the bathroom and that hot bubble bath.

Within an hour her makeup was done, and she’d tied her hair in a French braided side bun, carefully weaving the delicate white silk flowers into the plait.

After eliciting the help of Anvil View’s hostess to button her dress, Skye sprayed perfume on her pulse points. Her cape lay ready on the bed. Now the wait. Surely Callum would’ve remembered to arrange for her to get to the Old Blacksmith’s Shop? If he hadn’t, could she make it there in her high-heeled boots in this snow?