Blame It on Scotland

by Patience Griffin

  The trunk weighed a ton. He wielded it through the doorway, trying not to tear up the woodwork in the process. “Where are ye taking this?”

  Coira huffed as if she was the one hefting the monstrous trunk. “I just got here, but now, I’m going away with Maggie. She needs me, ye see. I hated it when we moved from Gandiegow five years ago for Lyel’s job. Dand wasn’t quite three.” She paused. “But now, my husband’s gone. My girls and the grandbairns are all I have left.”

  Tuck could see her grief and felt bad for the woman. He knew a little of Maggie’s family. Sinnie and Rowena still lived in the cottage that belonged to their parents. “Will ye stay with Maggie or with Rowena and Sinnie?”

  “Maggie, of course.”

  From John’s comments earlier, Tuck knew how the eldest Armstrong would feel about his mother-in-law setting up shop in his house. Tuck wondered how Maggie would feel about her mother staying with her, too. When he got the trunk through the door and carried it to the van with Coira following him, Maggie’s expression was clear—she wasn’t keen on Coira tagging along.

  Maggie glared at Tuck, but what was he supposed to do?

  The side door was already open and Tuck could see Dand sitting in the back. Maggie hoisted Irene inside. “Dand, will ye buckle her?” Maggie didn’t get in, but closed the side door. She turned to her mother. “Mum, there’s something I need to say, right here, right now.”

  “What?” Coira’s formidable gaze would’ve brought many a men to their knees, but Maggie held strong.

  She planted a hand on the van—either for support or maybe to provide more protection to the bairns inside. “I’m not in the mood for any lectures from ye. I’ve enough to worry about at the moment. And if I don’t get some peace, this splitting headache will be the end of me. So I’m asking ye please to give me a break.”

  Coira scanned Maggie’s disheveled appearance. “Ye look as if ye’re at the end of a short rope.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes and opened the side door again. “Mum, ye can sit in front with him.” She pointed to Tuck as if he had a communicable disease.

  Coira got in the passenger side and Tuck took his spot in the driver’s seat. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Maggie, who sat between her children. Maggie was gazing out the window. But she had a caring arm around Dand, and with her other hand, she stroked Irene’s hair.

  As soon as he started the engine, Coira turned on the radio to BBC Scotland. As he wended his way along the backroads of the Highlands, Tuck decided listening to the news was better than the uncomfortable silence of a van-full of unhappy passengers.

  When Tuck got them to Gandiegow, his job of transporting wasn’t over. He unloaded Coira’s trunk, but left it by the van. “Maggie, I’ll carry yere things.” He didn’t give her a chance to argue, but took off for her cottage with her and her children’s luggage. She didn’t look grateful or say thank you. She had other things on her mind.

  Like a strange funeral procession, they walked to John and Maggie’s cottage in silence. Dand wasn’t talking a mile a second and Irene was fast asleep on Maggie’s shoulder. Along the pathway, several people peeked out their windows, but no one left their houses to come out and greet them. Aye, the news had already traveled from Whussendale to Gandiegow about the troubles in the Armstrong family.

  As soon as he dropped off Maggie’s things, he went back for Coira’s trunk. Andrew met him at the van and took the other side.

  “How is she?” Andrew asked.

  “Coira or Maggie?” Tuck asked, but he knew. “I’ve never seen Maggie so upset.” And he wondered what in hell was John going to do?

  “Let’s get this delivered and then stop by and have tea with us,” Andrew said.

  “Nay. I need to get back.” Tuck didn’t go into the details of how he planned to care for Ryn. Hold her close. Give her comfort.

  But Andrew was no dummy. “Where is Ryn staying?” His look asked a more direct question: Is Ryn staying with you?

  “She’s settled into her cottage. I’ll look in on her from time to time.” Tuck didn’t mention their cottages shared a wall. And he also didn’t mention that looking in on her from time to time meant he was going to camp right beside Ryn’s bed—day and night.

  “Just look in on her?” Andrew’s question was a warning. “I don’t want to tell you how to live yere life, but—”

  Tuck cut him off. “Ha! Ye enjoy telling me how to live my life.” But he should cut Andrew some slack. St. Andrew couldn’t help himself. It was the priest’s business to tell people how they should live.

  Andrew, ever patient, waited, making sure Tuck was finished with his thought before pressing on. “As I was saying, ye should be careful around the American lass.” Andrew laid a hand on Tuck’s shoulder. “I just don’t want ye to get hurt again.”

  “I know ye don’t.” Tuck knew Andrew’s heart was in the right place, as he was the only one who really knew what Tuck had gone through when Elspeth had broken his heart. Andrew also was the only one who really saw Tuck for who he was. Except...

  Well, that had changed, hadn’t it? Sometimes, when Ryn looked at Tuck just so, he felt as if she understood him like no other woman had. Not even Elspeth.

  When they delivered the trunk, Coira thanked them. Maggie was nowhere in sight.

  Outside, Tuck told Andrew goodbye and then drove the Gandiegow’s Range Rover back for Ross to use later. When he arrived, he left the car at Kilheath and hurried to see Ryn.

  As he approached her cottage, he heard female voices floating through Ryn’s opened window. It sounded as if Ryn was speaking with Cait Buchanan.

  Tuck didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did.

  “Ryn, the baby’s kicking. Do ye want to feel?” Cait asked.

  “No,” Ryn said, which surprised Tuck.

  “What’s wrong?” Cait said. “Don’t you want to have children?”

  “I can’t have children,” Ryn answered, her voice sounding sad.

  Tuck stopped short. Ryn can’t have children?

  Quietly, he crept the extra steps to his cottage and slipped inside. He needed a moment to regroup and process Ryn’s statement. And to figure out why the news bothered him so. Had he, on a subconscious level, been thinking about him and Ryn long-term? That they would be together and have a family one day?

  Nay. That’s crazy. But was it?

  But she can’t have children, the voice in his head reminded him. And though he had known he’d never have a family of his own, after Elspeth’s betrayal, Tuck suddenly wanted all the same things he thought he was getting when he was seventeen. Love. Companionship. Kids. Family.

  All the things that Andrew had…but Tuck didn’t.

  * * *

  Ryn, lying in bed, stared at her cottage door, anything not to see the pity in Cait’s eyes. Ryn should’ve been clearer with her new friend.

  “I’m sorry ye can’t have children.” Cait laid a hand on her belly. “That has to be tough. I’ve had two miscarriages and they tore me apart.”

  Ryn would have to tell her the truth, but the question was How much to share? “It’s not that I can’t have children, it’s more like I won’t. Or shouldn’t.”

  Cait leaned closer. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s complicated.” Ryn never talked about the abortion she’d had at fifteen. Not with another living soul. The healthy thing she should’ve done was to discuss it with her mother, when she was alive. But from day one, her mother acted like it was best to pretend as if the abortion had never happened.

  Cait squeezed her hand. “No pressure. Just know I’m good at keeping secrets.” She laughed. “Not something everyone in Gandiegow can claim. Whatever ye have to say will go no further than me. Promise.”

  Ryn felt it was the truth.

  Suddenly, the urge to talk about children, the abortion, and the turmoil she’d gone through, bubbled up and overpowered Ryn’s long silence on the subject.

  “I had an abortion when I was fifteen. Since the
n, it’s been clear I shouldn’t have children. It’s not guilt that plagues me. I know I had no real choice in the matter. My mother insisted. It’s just this sense that I shouldn’t. I can’t explain it.”

  Cait took her hand and squeezed. “Ye poor hen. And rest assured, mum’s the word.” She gave Ryn a hug. “From a friend, I know how ye’re feeling. My college roommate experienced the same thing when she had an abortion our freshman year.” Cait paused, as if she didn’t know if she should say the rest.

  “What?” Ryn prompted.

  “My roommate and I had a lot of late night talks about it. She finally admitted that not having children should be her punishment for what she did.”

  Ryn sucked in a breath.

  “I know, crazy, huh?” Cait smiled soothingly. “I told her I didn’t think it worked that way. The guy my roommate was dating was a total dirtbag, and my friend was only waking up to just how awful he was when she found out she was pregnant.” Cait’s eyebrows pinched together with the memory. “He hit her, Ryn. And she had no options. No money, and no support from her family.”

  “What did you say to her to make her feel better?”

  “I just told her what I hoped was true.” Cait paused, gazing at Ryn for a moment. “I don’t know where you stand on the subject of God and redemption, but I told her what I believe: She shouldn’t punish herself for her decision, because God loves us no matter what.”

  Ryn let that soak in for a moment. All this time, had she believed she shouldn’t have children because she was punishing herself, too?

  “What happened to your friend?” Ryn said. “Tell me there’s a happy ending.”

  Cait brightened. “Yes, the best kind. She’s so happy now. Finding real love changed those feelings for her. Love is truly amazing. My friend is married now and has three children. She lives in Chicago with her husband.” Cait gazed off in the distance, as if trying to see what was going on in Illinois, thousands of miles away. “I really need to drop her a line.”

  “Do you really believe love changed everything? Can it really be that easy?” Ryn asked. She guessed it didn’t matter anyway, as she’d vowed to remain single. No true love for me. Surprisingly, Tuck popped up in her mind. Like unexpectedly receiving a bouquet of roses on a blah kind of day.

  Cait laughed. “Anything that involves love is never easy. Finding true love is never going to be a piece of cake.” She smiled, placing her hand on her belly again. “But definitely worth it. How about I tell you how Graham and I met, and you decide if choosing love is such an easy path.”

  Ryn nodded.

  “It all started when I returned to Gandiegow…” Cait proceeded to tell Ryn about how she and her famous husband found each other, and how true love blossomed, healing them both. Yes, Cait was right. It wasn’t easy, but very interesting.

  When Cait was done, she stood. “I think it’s time for ye to rest now.” She went to the window. “How about I shut this? It’s cooled off, don’t ye think?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  Cait gave her a final hug. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow to see how ye’re doing.” And she left.

  When she was gone, Ryn was able to think on what Cait had said. One day, would she really be able to get over her mental block against having children? She thought about her gorgeous next door neighbor, Tuck. Her feelings for him had shifted from I-have-to-stay-away-from-him to I-can’t-get-enough.

  She pulled his note out, which she’d stored under her pillow.

  Dear Ryn,

  I’m sorry I had to leave you for a while. As soon as I get back, I’ll be at your beck and call.

  Truly,

  Tuck

  Her stomach squeezed deliciously, just reading it again. Tuck had been so attentive, so caring. He wasn’t like the other jerks she’d dated. He’d treated her well. And he could kiss like no tomorrow. The decision was made. She would give him a chance to be her one true love. As scary as that was to her.

  She picked up her phone from the side table and texted him:

  Where are you?

  She held her phone—and her breath—and waited for him to reply back. But instead, she heard rustling on the other side of their shared wall. Then she heard his door open and close. Anticipation whirled through her, as he knocked on her door.

  “Come in,” she said throatily, though she didn’t know where that had come from.

  Tuck opened the door and walked in, beaming at her. Her vision was even clearer and it felt good to have settled on what she wanted. Yes! Tuck is the one!

  He came straight to her, carrying a red rose. “For you.”

  It felt like a date, as long as she forgot about her incisions, and the fact she was on painkillers.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” she replied. She patted the area beside her on the bed. “Sit.” She was being quite the brazened hussy. But truthfully, how much trouble could they get into with the condition she was in?

  His smile grew at the invitation. “Let me find something to put the rose in first.” He looked under the counter and came out with a jar. After taking care of the rose, he climbed in bed beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  They were acting as if they’d done this hundreds of times, and it felt wonderful.

  “I want to talk to you,” he started, but then he kissed her hair.

  “What about?” she asked.

  “There’s just something I want to tell ye,” he said.

  “Oh?” For a second, she worried if he’d heard through the window, while she and Cait talked. But wouldn’t he be acting strange if he’d heard about the abortion? Surely, he hadn’t, or else he wouldn’t be holding her like he was.

  He shifted so he was looking into her eyes. “I want to tell you something. And I don’t know why I want to.” He sat back, looking straight ahead, as if speaking face to face was too much. “I think it’s because of how easy it is to talk to you. To confide in you,” he added.

  She gazed up at him. “What is it you want to tell me?”

  “It’s just, well, something bad happened when I was seventeen.”

  She rested her head against his chest again. “Tell me.”

  “Remember my ex?”

  “The ballbuster?”

  “Aye, Elspeth,” he said on a heavy sigh. “I was crazy about her back then. We were stupid and in love. Well, she got pregnant.”

  Ryn waited, but he paused so long, she thought that might be the end of the story and her mind started to fill in the blanks.

  He has a child.

  Or what if he wants to get back together with Elspeth for the child’s sake?

  He began again. “I was going to marry her. I told my parents, arranged the church for a Friday morning ceremony with the pastor, even bought her a corsage.”

  “What happened?” Ryn asked. The tone of his voice suggested tragedy. Had Elspeth and the baby died in a car accident? Ryn felt bad for calling her a ballbuster now.

  “Elspeth didn’t show.” Tuck laugh wryly. “She left me at the altar.” He stopped talking for a long moment and she knew he was reliving it. “Instead of getting married that day, she got an abortion.”

  Oh, crap! Oh, crap! He did hear Cait and me talking! But there was no condemnation in his tone, no pulling away.

  He continued on, “I never saw it coming. Aye, Elspeth was tearful about the pregnancy, worried about telling her family, but she seemed happy I was going to fix everything by marrying her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tuck.” But Ryn’s mind was spinning over how he was feeling now and what this meant for them.

  “I hate Elspeth for it,” he said vehemently. “Before that day, I wasn’t capable of hate. I was young and naïve, so certain people were genuinely good and that things always worked out. We were in love. Isn’t everything supposed to work out when two people are in love?” He spat the words in love out as if they were a bitter fruit.

  Ryn had nothing to say. She closed her eyes, tr
ying not to cry. Her new hope of finding true love with Tuck had been instantly dashed with his story.

  And yet, Tuck went on, “There’s more. I was such an idiot. I found her that night, lying in her bed at her parents’ home, crying, and she told me the truth. The baby wasn’t even mine, but a bloke’s from the university, she’d been stepping out with. She said she was sorry for what she’d put me through, but she just wanted to be with him.” He sighed again. “I heard it didn’t work out between them.” Vindication should’ve been sweet, but he didn’t sound happy about Elspeth not getting her happy ending.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Ryn said honestly.

  “There’s nothing to say.” He kissed her hair again, as if bookending the story. “I just wanted ye to know, that’s all.”

  It seemed a stretch and it begged the question: Do you want true love now? But Ryn couldn’t ask it.

  He tilted his head down to see her face. “How are ye feeling?”

  Like I want to cry. “Tired,” Ryn said. And disappointed.

  “Why don’t ye rest.” Tuck was being so considerate it made Ryn want to sob. “I’ll stay with you, in case you need anything.”

  But the one thing Ryn wanted, she couldn’t have. She couldn’t have Tuck as her true love, and now everything seemed up in the air. A half hour ago, she’d thought the proverbial search for true love was over. But nothing but a question mark loomed before her now.

  Tuck gently took her into his arms and kissed her. The sorrow she felt was trying to ruin the kiss, but Ryn fought back, pushing her lost hope aside and just letting herself feel the wonderfulness of his lips on hers. Oh, how good and safe she felt while in his arms.

  When the kiss was over, he pulled away, laying his forehead against hers. “Rest now, luv.” He stood, staring down at her for a moment, then he pulled a kitchen chair beside her bed and sat.

  She closed her eyes, hoping the tears didn’t leak out. Maybe she could keep him for a while. While she recovered. While she was in Scotland. Maybe.

  The only thing she was sure about was that she could never tell him about her own abortion. Not ever! It was bad enough that Ryn looked like Elspeth-the-ex, but to have had an abortion like her…would make Tuck hate Ryn, too.