The Accidental Scot (15 page)

Miranda's impatience seemed to be growing. “About what?”

Freda felt as if a lemon had gotten caught in her throat. But her need was greater than her fear. “How you were able to put your insecurities behind you and become confident.”

Miranda's mouth fell open. For a second, Freda thought she might question her on how she knew.

But Miranda took a deep breath and wiped all emotion from her face. “So you want to gain confidence.” She paused for a long second, then smirked at her. “What do I get in return?”

That took Freda off guard. Gandiegow wasn't a
tit-for-tat community. “I don't know. I don't have anything that ye'd want.”

The American lass gave her a sly look. “Not true.”

“What do ye think that I have?”

Miranda led her into the living area, pointing for her to sit. “I'll help you, if in return you help me with the town.”

“This town? What can you mean? I don't have any . . . clout.” People barely noticed her. Most days Freda felt invisible. She'd known the McDonnell for her whole life—fifty-nine years—and not once had he really seen her. Why would anyone listen to what she had to say now?

“You have to help me convince the leaders of Gandiegow that a partnership with MTech would be good for everyone. A win-win.”

“Believe me. I have no influence.” Freda felt a little desperate. She'd come here with hope, but now she was going to leave empty-handed.

“Promise me that you'll talk to your clansmen or whatever you call them.” Miranda waved irritably like Freda's help was a done deal.

She sat there speechless, not knowing how to correct her or how to fix this.

Miranda studied her, putting a hand on her slender hip. “Is this confidence problem that you're having about a man?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Of course it is. Who is he? A fisherman? A lumberjack? What's his name?”

Freda wanted to crawl from the room. She couldn't tell this woman about her deepest secret. The only
person she'd confided in was Emma, and even then, she hadn't given his name.

Miranda shrugged dismissively. “If you won't tell me, then I can't help.”

Freda was trapped. But she'd come this far to change her life. She had to go the rest of the way. “It's the McDonnell. He's the one who owns the factory.”

Miranda sneered. “Of course.”

“Do you know him?”

“A little.” Miranda got a gleam in her eye as she gave Freda the once-over. She didn't seem to approve of even one inch of her. “Your hair is mousy.”

Freda reached up to touch her mane. She never gave her hair much thought. She knew the gray was coming in, but she wasn't a spring lamb anymore.

“Stop acting like you might cry. Confidence is all about looking your best. You need a makeover,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “A dye job for sure. A revealing dress. And for goodness' sakes, put on some makeup. After I get done with you, you'll have Lachlan eating out of your hand.”

Miranda had said
Lachlan
as if she knew him well . . . really well. Again, Freda had second thoughts about coming.

“But I came here to find out what you did,” Freda braved.

Miranda waved her off. “We'll start with your hair. I assume there's some place in town to buy dye. A drugstore, or what do you call it, a chemist?”

“The General Store has them.”

Miranda grabbed her purse and dug out a nail file. “You work on your nails while I find a decent color for
that mop of yours.” She shook her head as though it was hopeless, but then shrugged on her coat and was gone.

Freda felt a little sick. This wasn't what she had wanted. But maybe this was the first step that Miranda had taken to change herself.

Freda settled herself on the love seat and looked at her fingernails. It had to be a process. If filing her nails was going to change her destiny, then she would manicure herself until she was perfect.

*   *   *

Pippa tried concentrating after Max and Miranda left, but her emotions were everywhere. She ate lunch with Murdoch and Taog, but even their bickering couldn't distract her. She worked on the books in the afternoon, but knocked off early. When she got home, Da was asleep in his wheelchair, his lunch tray beside him. Freda was nowhere in sight. She wondered how long Da had been alone.

A rap sounded on the door. Pippa went to answer it. A strange woman with platinum blond hair stood there. It took a good minute for Pippa to realize it was Freda.

Freda with makeup caked on her face.

Freda squeezed into a black wraparound dress, her boobs nearly exposed, and with a trench coat hung over her shoulders.

Freda looking absolutely miserable.

“What the . . .” Pippa was at a loss for words.

Freda trembled, but seemed determined. “I came to see
Lachlan
.”

Pippa had never heard Freda call her da by his Christian name.

“Nay. Stay right here.”

“But—”

Pippa shut the door. She hated to do it, but there was no way she was letting her da see Freda made up like a tart.

“Who is it?” The McDonnell called out in a scratchy voice. “Has Freda come to sit with me?”

Pippa ran into the room. “Nay, Da.” She grabbed the contract and laid it beside her father, a hundred thoughts roiling through her head. “I've got to run. Do you mind taking a look at the contract while I'm gone?”

He looked a little confused, but finally nodded.

She kissed his head, grabbed her coat, and ran back to the door. She found Freda shivering even more.

“Come.” Pippa took her arm. “We're going to get you back to your cottage.”
Before anyone sees you.

Pippa steadied Freda while they walked to her house. She wondered if Freda had ever worn heels this high in her life. And she wondered who had lent them to her.

Once inside her small fisherman's cabin, Pippa had a plan. “Go change into something comfortable. We're going to Inverness to get this fixed.”

Freda stood there, defeated. “I knew I looked awful . . . but Miranda said I looked irresistible.”

“Miranda?” Pippa didn't mean to screech, but it sure came out that way. She had the urge to find Miranda and give
her
a
makeover
! But Pippa wouldn't abandon Freda. “Why would you let her do this to you?”

Freda looked down at her hands. “I don't want to say.”

Pippa pulled her over to the couch and sat with her. She grabbed the quilt from the back and wrapped Freda in it. The woman she'd known her whole life, the woman
who'd cared for her through everything, looked so small and low now.

Pippa said it for her. “Ye did it to get my da to notice ye, didn't ye?” She wrapped her arm around Freda's shoulders.

Freda let out a sob, then another, and then she let go while Pippa held her.

Freda had been the one Pippa had run to when the baby whale had died on their beach. She'd cried in Freda's arms until she could cry no more. Freda had put bandages on her knees. Hemmed her skirts for the céilidhs. Fed her soup when she was sick. Had been a true constant in her life.

The realization hit Pippa over the head like a falling mast.
Freda has been the mother I never had
.

Pippa was ashamed that she'd never noticed before. Ashamed she'd never told Freda how much she loved her. How much she meant to her. How the world was a better place because she was in it.

Pippa was as bad as her da. She wiped away her own tears and squeezed the woman who had done so much for her. “I love you, Freda. Ye're the best person I know.”

Freda cried harder.

“Come now. You and I are going to dry these tears. Ye're going to get that damned makeup off your face. After you've changed, we're going to Inverness and fix the mess that Miranda made of yere hair. We'll buy you some new clothes. And if my da doesn't notice ye then, I'm going to find a harpoon and shoot him in the backside.
Bluidy blind bastard
.”

Freda laughed through her tears. “Really?”

“Hurry now. I'll make a hair appointment while ye change.”

Freda slipped off the high heels and stood. “Pippa?” She paused for a moment. “I love you, too, lass. Always have.”

Pippa smiled at her. “Go on now, or you might have to live with that hair color forever.”

Freda hurried from the room.

“And burn that dress,” Pippa hollered, laughing. She fell back on the cushions.

Huh, she was okay with Freda having feelings for her father. Better than okay. Even Kit their local matchmaker couldn't have found her da a better match. And her da better agree, too! The second thing that hit Pippa was that Freda—who had settled her whole life—apparently wanted more. A wave of protectiveness came over Pippa. How could anyone even consider transforming one of the nicest, sweetest people on the planet into a parody of a sexy woman? Miranda should be strung up.

But right now, Pippa had a hair appointment to make. She also called Bethia and asked her to check in on her da.

On the drive into Inverness, Pippa shared with Freda what she'd learned while living in Edinburgh on her own. “Self-confidence is really one of the most attractive assets anyone can have.”

“I figured that,” Freda said sheepishly. “That was why I went to Miranda in the first place. I could tell she had transformed herself from a scared lamb into a mighty tigress.” Pippa didn't know about that, but she kept her opinion to herself. “She said a makeover would give me the self-confidence I needed.”

“I think the right clothes can help women with confidence, and the right makeup,” Pippa answered. “But what I've learned is that the biggest change comes from knowing your own self-worth. Ye do know how special ye are, don't you?”

Freda bowed her head, but Pippa saw a small smile. “I'm beginning to see it.”

So there was hope for her yet.

At the hairdresser's, Freda was converted into a chic version of herself. With a good cut, a new color, and a few highlights, she looked beautiful. She had a determination in her eyes that Pippa hadn't seen before. Next they went on a shopping spree and found Freda some sharp outfits and flattering makeup, perfect to bring out her best features—her big eyes and nice smile.

Pippa was excited when they returned home to Gandiegow. “I can't wait until Da gets a look at you.”

Freda laid a hand on her arm. “It's late, dear. I'm worn-out and I'm sure he's asleep. I've been through so much tonight. And, well, to be honest, I need to sleep on it myself to summon up courage again to see him.”

“You promise not to chicken out?”

“I'll be brave. I'll see Lachlan tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Freda stopped at her door. “Pippa?”

Pippa turned to her and saw the gratitude on her face. “Don't say a word. It's only a small amount to pay ye back for all ye've done for me.”

*   *   *

Lachlan shoved the contract away. He didn't understand a word of it. His eyes were failing him, like his health, and he couldn't concentrate worth a damn. He was old,
tired, and worn-out. And wasn't healing. Was this what the rest of his miserable life looked like?

He felt like such a failure. He used to be strong. Powerful. A force to be reckoned with. Now he expected little Mattie or seven-year-old Dand could whip his sorry arse.

He'd lied to Pippa time and time again since he'd opened the factory.
Aye, everything is grand.
He'd been stupid, arrogant, and prideful. But not anymore. The finances were in a shambles. He suspected Pippa had already figured out to what extent that he'd failed her, failed them all. He may have been a hell of an engineer, even a visionary once, but he was the worst sort of businessman. What made him think he could run a factory? The town would hate him when MTech took his subsea valve and shut down the factory.

He was too tired to even think about any of it anymore. He picked up the phone beside him and made the call. It was time.

Afterward, Lachlan dozed. Bethia stopped by with a plate, but he wasn't hungry. When he woke up again, Pippa was coming in the front door.

She leaned her head into the dark room, but he pretended to be sleeping. Morning would be soon enough to tell her.

He heard her in the kitchen for a moment and then her feet on the stairs. Even after the house became completely quiet, except for the wind blowing outside and the waves crashing against the retaining wall, he couldn't sleep. Failure robbed him of rest. Defeat encamped in his soul.

Before the sun came up in the morning, he heard the
front door open. It would be Freda, come to make his coffee and breakfast. But Lachlan was too ashamed of who he'd become to see her. He wanted to call out to Freda that he didn't need her here today, but he didn't want to wake Pippa either.

In an hour when Pippa woke, would be time enough to shift the load to her . . . turn her life on its end.

The light went on in the kitchen. The frying pan was set on the stove. This was torture for him. Why couldn't he just be left alone?

Freda stepped into the doorway. He could make out only her silhouette. “Lachlan?”

She hadn't called him by his first name since they were children.

“Here,” he finally said. Anger flared. Where else did she expect him to be?
As if he could come and go about the house of his own volition.
He was an invalid and a burden.

She came into the room and turned on the small lamp. She was the only sunshine to his disastrous life.

Freda looked very nice and he started to tell her so. A new hairstyle? Was that a new outfit?

“Yere coffee is brewing. I brought you books this morning. They're in the wagon outside.” She smiled brightly at him as though he'd tacked her sail into the wind. “I'll go start yere breakfast now unless ye need something from me first.”