To Scotland With Love (25 page)

She stopped again. “If I were in your position, I would.”

Guilt over the past had him walking away. “I should've been a better da. Duncan grew up without me. I've spent most of his life working on too many damn films. If I'd been a fisherman, we would've been poor, but at least I would've been there for him. He would've known that I loved him.”

She yanked his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “First of all, Duncan knows you love him. Haven't you noticed he's forgiven you for not being around? He doesn't blame you for making a living.” She let go of his arm. “You need to cut yourself a break. Look at all your career has given you. It's helped Duncan with his boat when he needed it. The pub for the town. And all the other things you do.” She made a sweeping gesture.

He opened his mouth to deny it.

She put her finger to his lips. “In the last six or seven weeks, your career has provided something very special for Duncan. It's given him the best possible care, from the comfort of home, with his son beside him. How many people in the world can afford such a luxury? Don't be cursing your career, Graham. Your career's been a huge blessing.”

“Blessing?” He looked out at the dark sea, her words taking root in him.

Finally, he took her hand and examined it closely by
the moonlight. So petite to his large one. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. “You're right, Caitie. I don't know why I didn't see it sooner.”

“Because you're a thickheaded, whiny actor?”

He laughed a genuine laugh. “I think you're pushing it, Macleod. Now, let's get you home.”

* * *

Deydie waited at the house for them. Cait held back while her gran gave Graham the report.

“I helped the nurses get Duncan into bed,” Deydie said. “He just doesn't look right to me.”

Graham squeezed Deydie's shoulder. “I agree. We're going to get some more professional help here. Will you stay for a nightcap?”

“Aye.” Deydie sighed. She glanced over at Cait and seemed resigned to the fact that she was a part of all this.

“Is Mattie in bed as well?” Cait asked.

“If you hurry up now, you might get to say good night.” The civil words from her gran were surprising but welcomed.

Cait nodded and headed up the stairs.

Mattie lay in his bed, staring at his lighthouse night-light. Cait crawled in beside him.

“Are you okay, monkey?”

He cuddled close to her.

“Do you want me to stay in here with you tonight?”

He nodded.

“Let me go get my pajamas on and tell the others good night.” She started to get out of bed, but Mattie grabbed her arm.

“What is it?” She knew he wouldn't talk, but the fear in his eyes was easy to read.

“Listen, sweetie, Grandda is going to hire a doctor
tomorrow to come stay here. I know you're scared. And with me and Grandda, you can be afraid all you want, okay? But around your da, we're going to have to be brave for his sake. Okay?”

Mattie's eyebrows furrowed while he mulled it over. Then he nodded his head.

“That's my boy.” She smoothed back his hair and kissed his forehead. “I'll be right back.”

Mattie didn't have nightmares that night, but he was right to worry. The next day, Duncan was worse.

* * *

Graham brought a tray up to Duncan's room, setting it on the side table. Duncan looked like he was sleeping, so Graham tried to sneak out.

“Da?” Duncan's voice sounded like he'd swallowed gravel. “Stay for a minute. I've things to say.”

Graham's hair rose on the back of his neck. He wouldn't talk with his only child about last wishes. He just wouldn't.

“Humor me,” Duncan said.

“Fine.” Graham helped Duncan sit up, positioning a couple of pillows behind his son's back. He pulled over a chair to sit close to the bed.

“It's about Mattie,” Duncan said. “When I'm gone, I want—”

Graham cut him off. “We're not going to speak of it.”

Duncan's face turned red. “We are,” he said forcefully.

Graham took in the stress lines showing between Duncan's brows and backed off. “Don't worry about Mattie. I'll take care of him. You must know that!”

Duncan shook his head, irritated. “You've got it all wrong. I want Caitie to be a part of Mattie's life and share guardianship with you.”

Stunned, Graham couldn't say a word.

Duncan reached out and touched his arm. “Can you think of a better person to watch out for him?”

Graham found his voice. “How about his own grandda?” he growled.

“What's my son going to do when you're on location?” Duncan sat up straighter, the propped pillows falling. “Be passed from house to house like a stray dog?”

Silently, Graham counted to ten. “Have you discussed this with Caitie? Has she agreed to take Mattie?”
From me.

“No. I wanted to talk to you first.” Duncan fell back, his shoulders slumping.

“It seems I have no say in it,” Graham shot out. “You've already made up your mind.”

“Aye, I have.” Duncan pursed his lips together. “Now that that's settled, I want to talk about what's to be done with my house.” He was silent for a moment. “I want to give it to Caitie to use for her quilting venture. It's right next door to hers. Maybe she'll turn it into a dormitory as well.”

Graham's irritation bubbled over. “Is there anything else you want to give her? Seems like she's the only one who's been on your mind.”

“Da?” Duncan reached out again. “Ye've been on my mind. You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy, dammit,” Graham snarled.

“I'm going to tell you my last request now, in case I don't get to do it later,” Duncan said.

“Don't be so maudlin,” Graham said, exasperated.

“I want you to marry Caitie.”

“W
hat?” Graham bellowed. It wasn't as if Caitie had been anything but good for him. But neither one of them would ever marry again. She'd said as much. They'd been having a bit of fun, that's all.

“Seriously, Da. Marry her.”

“You're being unreasonable, Dunc. Caitie won't marry me or anyone else.” That got Graham off the hook.

“If you marry her, then Mattie would have a family. A real family.” Duncan paused. “Plus, it would make an honest woman out of her.”

So Duncan knew what'd been going on behind Graham's closed door.

Duncan gave Graham a sad smile. “She makes you happy.”

Graham remained silent, his hands clenched in his lap. “Marriage is out of the question. At one time, I wanted to marry your mother. Total failure. You didn't have much luck either.”

Duncan peered out the window. “Caitie's different. We both chose women who didn't belong here. Caitie loves Gandiegow. She's one of us.”

Graham ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know.”

Duncan smiled. “Give it some thought. And then for once, do what
I
want.”

* * *

Cait spent a portion of the morning standing by the unusually calm ocean. The lack of crashing waves made her feel uneasy. Like she'd gotten away with something and shouldn't have. As sure as the sun had risen this morning, she knew she'd have to come clean with Graham. She would have to tell him how she'd planned to write the article and show him the notebooks filled with the facts she'd gathered about him. It was the only way to rid herself of the guilt. And Graham deserved to know the truth about her.

She wandered over to Quilting Central and checked on the progress. Mr. Sinclair had removed the adjacent building's wall, installed a new support beam, creating an open area the size of a large ballroom. Cait could visualize rows of tables with sewing machines on top. At the front, they'd have a projector for teaching classes. Maybe a long-arm quilting machine or two in the far corner. Some couches on the east side by the fireplace, the kitchenette on the back wall. It would be grand. When she finished at Quilting Central, she visited Amy at the store and then hiked to the top of the bluff for some exercise and exploring. When she finally made it back to the mansion, she met Rhona coming out the back door.

“Duncan's been asking for you. He'd like to have a word.” Her old schoolteacher pointed in the direction of the parlor.

“Thanks,” Cait said.

She found him sitting in front of a roaring fire, his legs draped with an Hourglass quilt.

“I hear you're looking for me,” she said.

“Aye. Have a seat.” Duncan looked tired, but she
didn't mention it. His pallor resembled white paper, the bruises on his arms standing out like inkblots.

She took the chair across from him.

“I wanted to talk to you about Mattie,” he started. “It's a really big favor, and I want you to take your time in answering.”

“Sure. I'd do anything for the little squirt.” She smiled at Duncan, but he was so serious.

“Caitie, I want you to be Mattie's coguardian, along with Da.”

It took a moment for the full impact of his words to register. “What?”

Duncan went on. “I know it's a lot to ask. But Da needs backup when he's out filming. Do you think you could do this for me? Be the mother that Mattie has never had?”

“I'm speechless, Dunc.” She leaned back in the chair, thoughtful, the weight of what he asked almost a one-two punch. To be Mattie's mom would be the most precious gift anyone could ever give her. She twisted her hair. “Why?”
Please don't say you've given up hope of getting better
, she pleaded silently.

“Do you have to ask?” He lifted a black-and-blue arm as evidence and gave her a sad smile. “You are so good to Mattie. I just want him to have continuity. Someone who will be there for him when Da is away.” He paused. “But you don't look happy about this. If you don't want to do it, all you have to do is say so.”

“That's not it.” She frowned at him. She wanted to yell at him to keep the faith! She, who had lost all faith herself, had taken to praying for him every day, religiously. He just needed to hang on, to give prayer a chance. The problem was, he wasn't improving. He knew. She knew. They all knew. She finally answered him.
“What you're asking of me is not the problem, Duncan. Of course, I would do it, in a heartbeat. But I'm afraid when your da finds out about this, he'll wring my neck like I'm one of Deydie's helpless chickens.”

“Da already knows,” Duncan said flatly.

“And he's pissed?” she added.

“That's an understatement.”

“Then why do it?” she asked. “Aren't you done yet making your da pay for his past mistakes?”

“It's not him I'm thinking about.” Duncan adjusted the quilt. “I'm trying to do what's best for Mattie. If I'm gone, he'll need a full-time parent. A mother. I know Da will do his best to take care of Mattie, when he can, but he still has his career to think about.” He beseeched her with his dark-circled eyes. “What do you say, Caitie?”

“Dammit, Duncan.” She wanted to tell him,
Yes, of course
, with no hesitation. But she couldn't. “Let me talk to your father first.” She touched Duncan's arm and tried to give him an encouraging smile. “I don't want you to worry on this, though. There's time.”

Duncan grasped her hand. “For my sake, don't put it off. Speak to Da soon.”

* * *

The next day, Duncan's headaches got worse. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Dr. Tsang arrived to stay in Gandiegow to be Duncan's personal physician. He was efficient and caring and fit right in with the crew at the big house.

Graham spent the next two nights away, to do a cameo he'd promised in the new Julia Roberts film being shot in Monte Carlo. When he hurried back, Cait met the helicopter on the beach with a picnic lunch.

“I hope you're hungry.” She wanted to make sure he
had a full stomach before broaching the subject of Mattie's guardianship.

“What's wrong?” Graham looked so tired that a picnic might not have been the best idea.

“Nothing's wrong. I just thought we could check out Quilting Central together. You could ease back into Gandiegow before going up to the mansion. The big house has become a bit of a madhouse.”

“Duncan's all right, then?”

“Dr. Tsang is with him, along with half of the town. Moira took Mattie to the store to pick up groceries. Deydie is organizing another quilting bee for your dining room.”

Graham ran a hand through his hair. “It's hard being away.”

“Come on. I made you chicken potpie and held the vegetables.”

“Just the way I like it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

When they got to Quilting Central, Cait unlocked the door and was awed with the transformation. The walls had been painted a pale, calming blue and the floors redone in a rich hardwood. There was no furniture yet, so she laid an old blanket on the floor and spread out their feast, the potpies still piping hot.

As Graham dug in, Cait worried her napkin. “There are things for us to talk about,” she hedged. “And I'm afraid you're going to be angry with me.”

He put his hand up to stop her. “Duncan already told me what he wants.” He frowned at his potpie.

“I'm sorry. I should've waited until after you ate.”

“That's okay,” he said. “Did you also bring my favorite dessert to butter me up?”

“Aye,” she said sheepishly, pulling out a gooseberry pie she'd made that morning.

Graham stuck his fork in a piece of chicken. “Listen, I've had some time to think on it. What Duncan is asking makes a lot of sense. But Mattie is my grandson.”

“I know. That was my gut reaction as well. I love Mattie, but I have no right to him.”

Graham put down his potpie and stared at her intently. “Unless we marry.”

Cait felt rocked, like she'd taken a rogue wave—unexpected and hard. “Excuse me?”

“It's just an idea.
Duncan's idea
,” Graham emphasized.

Duncan's idea. Of course.
Graham didn't want to get married, much less to her. This was for Duncan's sake. But even if she wanted to say yes—which she didn't—what about love? Was there any hope for a marriage otherwise? She busied herself with straightening up the picnic basket, not meeting his eyes. “I don't know why Duncan chose me in the first place. The whole idea's crazy. He's going to be fine. We're all going to be fine.”

But she knew better. Duncan wasn't going to be fine. Nothing would be fine ever again. She felt like a leaf caught in gale-force winds. Tossed about, tumbled, pulled almost to pieces.

“Duncan wants an answer from us,” Graham said. “Wants assurances. He says it will alleviate his fears if the worst happens.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “God knows I don't want to think about it.”

Cait knew Graham meant he didn't want to think about death claiming Duncan, not about marrying her, but now they seemed inexplicably tied.

“Please, Caitie, for Duncan's sake. If it does turn out badly, promise me you'll say yes and be Mattie's mother.”

They were kidding themselves to think there was more than one possible outcome. It was just a matter of time. But she wouldn't be the one to say so.

“For Duncan's sake, I will.” But she wasn't exactly sure what she'd just promised. Was it only to be a mama to Mattie, or was it to be a wife to Graham as well?

* * *

When he woke up, Duncan felt like he'd been drifting on his boat. More days now than not, he teetered between two worlds. He so wanted to stay on earth and be there to see Mattie grow up, but he felt drawn to the other side.

He no longer wanted his morning coffee. He was content to stare out the window and watch the sea. Often, he'd fall into a slumber and not even know it. If this was what dying was like, it wasn't so bad. He wanted to explain it but didn't seem to have the energy to do so.

The villagers revolved around him, and he saw the sadness in their eyes. Duncan would smile at them and assure them he was content.

No, he didn't need anything. No extra pillows. Not another quilt. He needed only to stare out at the sea and have Mattie come visit every now and then.

* * *

The next five weeks were hell. Cait felt numb. Just going through the motions. But as the days wore on, something began to happen. A little shift here and there. Not until this morning could she pinpoint what was really going on.

Like most mornings, Father Gregory showed up with his missal and Duncan's room filled up with the usual suspects—Deydie, Graham, Mattie, and Cait—plus a few of the townspeople, in this case, Ross, Amy, and Coll. But
this time when Father Gregory went through the ceremony of Communion, Cait felt her whole world tilt. Then a crack formed in her outer shell.

The coming together, the prayers, the readings—it turned and twisted on her, becoming more than the church ritual she'd grown up with. These people, Gandiegowans, believed in the power of God, their tradition, and the community. Believed they could get through anything if they had one another. Cait stood back and watched in wonder, maybe rediscovering a piece of herself that had been lost. Death lingered close by, but Cait didn't feel alone anymore. She felt part of the community. The beating, bleeding heart of them. These people who clung to their faith and to one another. It seemed weird and terrible and wonderful all at the same time that while Duncan got worse and slipped away, Cait inched toward getting better.

* * *

Graham noticed that Duncan spent more and more time in silence, looking off into the distance, and less time conversing with others. He no longer wanted to go to the parlor or to have rowdy conversations with Ross. He had no appetite, not even for his morning coffee. He seemed to slip further and further away from them.

One day at the end of March, Duncan seemed to come back to them, more like himself, pleading with Graham to take him to his boat.

“Da, just a little jaunt around the cove is all I'm asking. Will you do it? Will you take me for one more ride?”

“Dunc, I don't think it's a good idea.”

“If the doctor says I can go?”

“Aye, lad. If the doc gives permission,” Graham said, giving in.

Dr. Tsang granted his son's wish. “I think at this point
we have to do whatever Duncan wants to make him happy and comfortable. Take him. Just keep him warm. It'd probably raise his spirits,” Dr. Tsang said.

Graham wanted to argue but didn't.

Doc, Ross, and a few of the other fishermen went with them on Duncan's boat. With a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he sat on the bench in the front as they maneuvered into the bay. Duncan looked back and smiled at Graham, who drove the boat. Soon Ross took over, and Graham went to sit with Duncan.

“It's a fine day we're having for a ride,” Graham said.

“It's grand, Da. So grand. I only wish Mattie were here with us.” Duncan looked off to where the fateful boat had gone down and those men had died. “But I guess that's asking too much. He will be all right, won't he?”

“Mattie? Aye, he'll be all right.”

Duncan clutched Graham's arm. “Da, I don't want you to mourn me. I'm happy. You know I've had a wonderful life. My only regret is that I wasted part of it being angry with you. I'm not anymore. You've been a great da. I love you so much.”

Tears welled up in Graham's eyes. He hated Duncan talking like this, but the doctor had told him to prepare himself. His son wasn't getting better, and it was important to acknowledge it. “I love you, too, lad.”

Duncan patted Graham's arm. “Just try to be happy for me. And I'll do my best to not worry about Mattie. I know I'm leaving him in the best of hands.”