The Accidental Scot (24 page)

She parked her car as Max pulled up. He shut off his vehicle and joined her. Without speaking, they walked to the cabin door. She tipped over the cast-iron statue of a sheep and retrieved the key.

She would not be sad. She would be happy that the evening had taken an unexpected turn for the better. She would enjoy this last night with Max, and let tomorrow's sadness and loneliness be tomorrow's worry.

She unlocked the door and switched on the light. When they went inside, she lit the gas fireplace, grateful for the modern convenience. Colin had updated the amenities, but kept the rustic charm. Near the back wall stood the ladder which led to the loft, the only bedroom in the cabin. Pippa pulled the curtain on the picture window, though there was no need, really. No one would bother them. If anyone came to use the cabin, they would turn around when they saw the cars parked out front.

Max took her hand when she went to pass.

“You know we have to talk first.” He looked serious.

“About?”

“Ross,” he said. “The engagement.”

“Oh, aye. The engagement's off. It had never been truly on. In my heart, I've known all along I couldn't go through with it, but it took me a while to face the truth. And I still need to set the town straight. Though the
Deydie and Bethia grapevine
will handle the majority of it.”

Max raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek. “Ross hinted as much. He also said you fancied me.”

“Aye.” Tonight was a night for truth. Pippa stared into Max's eyes, mesmerized. She needed the memory of this night to last a lifetime. But first, she needed to tell him about the contract.

She unzipped his parka. “I heard from yere company. They accepted almost all of our changes. We should
break open a bottle of wine and celebrate.” She pushed his coat from his shoulders and he shrugged out of it.

He moved a lock of her hair behind her ear. “The only thing I want to drink in right now is you.”

She pulled his sweater over his head, exposing his wonderful chest. “Had ye heard about it from Roger or Miranda?”

“My phone is off,” he replied. “Now,
shh
. No more talk of business.”

She unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor. When she went to remove his kilt, he stilled her hands.

“My turn.” He unzipped her coat and removed it.

“Wait,” she said as he went to hang it over a chair. “I need to retrieve something first.” He handed it back. She pulled the condoms out and shoved them in her jeans pocket. “Provisions.”

Instead of removing her blouse next, he pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly.

So this was how it was going to be. Neither one of them was going to say it . . . Good-bye.

“How about we take this upstairs?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You're not going to rush this, Pippa.” Very slowly, he traced his finger down her face to the V of her blouse, gazing upon her body as if she were a star to wish upon.

He was right. She was being impatient. She wanted to savor this last time with him, too—take mental photos that she could bring to mind while she spent the rest of her life alone.

She laid a hand over his heart and felt the rise and fall of his chest. As she tilted her head back to gaze into his eyes again, he leaned down and kissed her once more.
But this time, he scooped her up and carried her to the sofa in front of the fireplace, his lips gently melding with hers.

As if they had all the time in the world, he kissed her for what seemed liked hours. Finally, they climbed the ladder and slowly undressed each other. This wasn't the playful sex they'd had the first time or the wham-bam they'd had in her office. This was all about cherishing each other and being in the moment.

As Max made love to her, he gazed into her eyes, and Pippa felt treasured, loved. His eyes spoke the deep feelings that words couldn't name, but she heard them inside of her anyway. They were in a melting pot of emotions and she savored the moments.
They
savored the moments, soaking each other up. And at the moment that they met their climax, Pippa wanted to confess her feelings, but instead let her body say it for her. They dozed and roused, then made love again.

Pippa woke before the sun, pretty sure her internal alarm clock was warning her that the time had come to feel the full force of her broken heart. She slowly slipped out of bed, gazing upon Max as she gathered her panties and bra.

Before climbing down the ladder, she whispered into the darkness,
“Tha gaol agam ort
.
”
It was the best she could do for him, the most she'd ever given any man. It would have to be enough.

For the briefest of moments she wanted to crawl back in bed beside Max, wake him with a kiss, and tell him what Deydie had said. But if Pippa did and he stayed, she'd always have doubts about whether he'd remained
in Scotland for her or for the babe. Quietly, she went down the ladder and out the door, her heart aching.

And once outside, she willed herself to put it all behind her. She had a pressing errand to run. One that would reveal which direction her future life would take—single mother or confirmed bachelorette. On the way back to Gandiegow, she stopped at the chemist in Fairge to pick up a pregnancy test, ready to find out which life it would be.

A
t Thistle Glen Lodge, Ross finished making a cup of coffee and went back down the hall to Miranda's room. She'd been out cold all night. He didn't approve of what Deydie and Bethia had done to this woman. And he would definitely think twice before drinking anything the two quilting ladies offered him in the future.

He slipped back in and pulled up a chair near Miranda's double bed. He'd rested in the twin-size bed across the room, afraid to leave her, not knowing if what they'd given her would make her do something crazy, like sleepwalk, which would be highly dangerous in a village at the water's edge.

He was halfway through his coffee with the sun barely making an appearance when Miranda rolled over and her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he drawled. He took a sip from his mug, not breaking eye contact with her. He'd had a helluva time getting her pantsuit off her last night and slipping her into the silk nightie. He'd done his best not to look; she'd been hoodwinked enough by the townsfolk.

He laid a hand on the end of her bed. “Ye're just as beautiful this morning as ye were last night.” A moment of guilt hit him for hinting at a liaison, but his heart was in the right place. She deserved more than she'd gotten.

“Good morning,” she said shyly. She reached up and checked her hair, as if worried about how she looked.

“Personally, I like my women a little rumpled. Ye are amazing.”

“I'm glad you stayed over,” she said hesitantly. “I wasn't sure if you would.” The hard lines of her face softened as a tentative smile grew. Ross got a glimpse of a different woman under her tough exterior—a woman who longed for love and affection. He hoped one day she would find those things for herself.

He rose, tucking in his T-shirt and straightening his kilt. “I hate to leave ye, but I have a job to do. Fishermen seldom take a day off.”

She sat up, looking a little downcast.

He moved closer and took her hands in his. “Before I go, though, I want to thank ye for last night. Ye're an incredible woman, Miranda. Very special. Any man would be lucky to have ye.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She put a finger to where his lips had been.

“Thank you, Ross.” She hesitated for a second and gave him a confident smile. “It was a night I'll never forget.”

*   *   *

Pippa sat outside the chemist, waiting for it to open. Maybe she should've gone home first and crawled into bed, pretending she'd been under her own quilt all night and not snuggled up with Max in the loft at the cabin. But fretting here in front of the chemist was what she deserved. She never should've fallen for the Yank. From the moment she'd set eyes on his beautiful face, she should've known she was a goner.

Besides, she had to sit here. She had to know one way or another if Deydie was telling the truth.

At nine the young female pharmacist unlocked the door. Pippa pulled her hood up, feeling slightly ridiculous. She didn't know the woman in the white lab coat, but Fairge wasn't so far away from Gandiegow that rumors couldn't get started.

Pippa hopped from the car and went in. It took only a second to find what she needed. She made her way to the counter with her wallet in hand.

The woman gave her an expectant expression. Pippa wanted to tell her not to judge, but instead she took her change in silence. Once back in the car, Pippa shoved the pregnancy test to the bottom of her purse and laid her wallet on top. All the way back to Gandiegow she worried what the contents of the box would reveal.

As she drove down the winding road off the bluff to the parking lot below, red flashing lights shattered her deep thoughts and panic overtook her. Who in town needed an ambulance? Had one of the fishermen gotten hurt?

She pulled into the lot and quickly parked. The townsfolk were gathered around the back of the ambulance into which a stretcher was being loaded. The only two people who registered with her were Doc MacGregor and Freda before the crowd parted and let her through.

“Da?” Pippa's voice sounded eerie, conveying every bit of panic her brain hadn't quite registered.

“Daughter,” Da said weakly. He was pale, his eyebrows pulled together in pain. “Don't worry.”

Pippa clutched at Freda, who took her hands. “What's going on?”

“I was a damned fool,” her father said from the stretcher.

“He fell out of his wheelchair,” Doc MacGregor put in. “Freda found him. A compound fracture to his other leg.” He stepped up into the ambulance. “Let's get some pain meds going.”

“Freda?” her da called. “Freda? I want Freda with me.”

“All right,” Doc said. “There's room.” He offered his hand to help Freda up to sit next to the paramedic. Doc looked at Pippa. “Are ye okay to follow us? I could get Dominic to drive ye.”

“No. I can do it.” She gave one more look at her da, then ran back to her car. As she started the engine, she saw the doors to the ambulance shut and the vehicle circle the parking lot. She followed with her flashers on.

All the way to the hospital, thoughts tumbled through her brain.
Please, God, let him be okay!
Her da had always been everything to her, but she hadn't realized how angry with him she'd become in the months since she'd returned to Gandiegow. In her mind, he'd let her down. But the truth of it was, it was her fault. She'd always held him up so high on a pedestal that the most saintly of men would've eventually fallen.

It hit her that Lachlan McDonnell wasn't the superhero she'd made him out to be. He was just a man with flaws like everyone else. Imperfect. But he was her da, and a good one. Her heart swelled with love for her father. She'd wanted him to accept her as she was and not demand she fit into his preferred mold; but she had to do the same for him, too.

At that moment, she recognized how she'd grown
since coming back to Gandiegow. She was no longer the McDonnell's little girl. Not an easy task when your small town always wanted things to remain the same. She was a woman now. She could stand in the truth of who she once was and who she'd become. No longer was she the girl promised to Ross.

She was the Gandiegow lass who could now face head-on what had happened . . . She'd fallen in love with Max McKinley. And her heart was breaking.

*   *   *

Lachlan didn't care about the pain or the infernal racket of the blaring sirens. The only thing he cared about was that Freda was with him inside the blasted ambulance. She gave him strength. And purpose. Lachlan reached out to take her hand.

“Hold still,” Doc MacGregor said. “Let the paramedic get the IV in, and then ye'll be able to move your arm.”

Lachlan wished he could erase the worry from Freda's face. “I'm sorry, Freda.”

She reached across and clasped his free hand in hers, smiling down on him. “Shh, quiet now.”

But Lachlan had to get this out. It might be his last chance to make amends.

“I was an arse.”

He expected her to deny it, but she seemed to be waiting patiently to see if he had more to say.

“I never should've treated ye the way that I did. I'm so sorry. Ye looked beautiful.”

Freda blushed.

Lachlan squeezed her hand. “Ye still do. Ye always have. I should've told ye sooner what ye've come to mean to me.”

Freda glanced at Doc, but the man had the good sense to look busy with the medical supplies in his bag.

She didn't shy away from his words, but leaned closer. “What have I come to mean to ye?”

Och, he liked this confident Freda. “Ye're everything to me.”

She didn't melt and weep all over him. Instead, she looked determined. “And?”

“And if the doctors can get my bones to heal and make me a healthy, whole man again, I'm going to ask ye to marry me.”

Freda smiled at him sweetly, but there was something more behind it. She looked resolute, single-minded, and unwavering . . . like the strong Scottish lass she was. She let go and patted his hand. “Indeed, we'll be married, healed bones or no. I've not loved ye all these years to be without ye now.”

He grabbed her hand, overcome with emotion, and made his vow. “Aye, Freda, we'll be married. I love ye, lass.” It was a strong man indeed who had tears rolling down his cheeks, and he didn't care a whit if the love of his life, or the doc, or any other damned person saw him crying like a babe.

*   *   *

When Max woke, the cabin was empty. Hell, his chest felt empty, too.

Pippa is gone.

He wasn't surprised. So many times last night he'd wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, but then he'd chicken out. Or maybe it was because she'd gotten her point across loud and clear. From the time they'd reached the cabin until the last time that they'd made
love, she'd said good-bye to him with her eyes, with her body, with everything. She wasn't engaged anymore, but apparently she didn't want or need a man in her life. Max wanted to offer her everything, but something inside him needed her to
need
him. And Pippa needed no one. Or at least that was the bullshit she was telling herself.

After Max dressed and tidied up the cabin, he wasn't in any hurry to leave. He sat in front of the fireplace for a long time. Finally, he grabbed his coat, locked the door, put the cabin key under the iron sheep guarding the house, and went to his car.

While he waited for it to warm, he turned on his cell phone, and within a minute it rang. As if a switch had been flipped, his heart pounded and his hopes soared.

But when he checked the name, it wasn't Pippa.

It was Roger Gibbons, president of MTech.

“McKinley here,” Max said.

“Why in the hell didn't you call me back last night?” Roger's voice cut in and out, the connection terrible. “I sent you an e-mail. I called and I texted.”

Oh, crap.

Max glanced at his phone, but it was too late to read the messages. “Sorry. My phone was off.”

Roger went on. “I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Of course you shouldn't have allowed so many concessions, but we were able to get back the most important one, so there's still a chance we'll get the subsea valve in the end. Legal faxed the final contract to McDonnell last night.”

Max's stomach fell. What concession had she made? God, he hoped Pippa hadn't signed anything this morning. He needed to get hold of her!

“There's another matter I want to discuss,” Roger continued. “I just got off the phone with Miranda and she agrees with me. Said you orchestrated the whole deal with little input from her.”

Max's connection was bad, but had he heard right? Miranda had given him the credit?

“We think you should head up the new department—Technical Acquisitions. It's been in the works for some time now. We were looking at other candidates, but this deal showed that you're a team player.”

“I don't know what to say,” Max said honestly. His emotions were reeling. It was a lot to take in. Only a few days ago, he was pretty sure Miranda was going to fire him. “Can I call you back, sir? Our connection is horrible.” Max needed to process this new development. But more important, he needed to stop Pippa from signing that contract.

Roger chuckled. “Take your time. Call me later today.” He hung up.

Everything Max ever wanted was coming true—a valve that could have saved his father's life was close at hand. He had the chance to head up a new engineering department, something he'd worked toward since college. He'd sacrificed everything for his dream, gave up having a family of his own, and had focused solely on his career. But if he was getting everything he ever wanted, shouldn't he be happier?

This damn deal. He knew in his gut if Pippa signed that contract, Gandiegow would lose in the end. He sent her an urgent text to do nothing until he talked to her. He put the car in gear and started down the path that led to the main road. Pippa may have said good-bye with her
body last night, but Max was going to intervene one more time. And getting ahold of her was paramount. He called her number, but it went directly to voice mail. Was she avoiding his calls? Was she at home signing the papers right now? Max drove as fast as the slick, curvy roads would allow.

When he arrived in town, he didn't worry about changing out of Ross's kilt and into a pair of jeans. Right now, he didn't give a crap if his clothes told everyone that he'd stayed out all night. He rushed through town, and he couldn't help but notice things were too quiet.

Over the last few weeks, the closer it got to Christmas, the livelier the town had become—more people decorating, more people carrying boxes and bags from house to house, more merrymaking. Gandiegow had been a regular Norman Rockwell painting. But today was Christmas Eve and the town was dead, as if the zombie apocalypse occurred and no one told him.

At the house with the red roof and green door, Max knocked, then walked in without waiting.

“Pippa?”

No answer.

He rushed to the dark den. “Lachlan? Are you awake?”

The place was silent. Max stepped in and turned on the small lamp so as not to disturb the McDonnell.

But Max was alone . . . except for the empty wheelchair.

“Oh, God.” What's going on?

His eyes landed on the fax machine in the corner. He rushed to it. The contract was there. He flipped to the last page. Pippa hadn't signed it yet.
Thank goodness!
He
took the page and shoved it in his pocket in case she came back.

But where was she? And where was Lachlan?

Max left the house and ran to Quilting Central for answers. There, too, the building was empty. He hurried to the restaurant and the pub, and found them empty as well.

At Thistle Glen Lodge, he found Miranda in the bedroom, packing.

Max ran a hand through his hair. “I'm so glad you're here. I was beginning to feel like the last man on Earth.”