To Scotland With Love by Patience Griffin Read Free Book Online

stared at the crackling fire and, unfortunately, the old dark thoughts crept back in. Suddenly, Cait was back in primary school, her mother recently diagnosed with cancer. She knew what cancer meant, even at nine years old—Death. And it seemed everywhere she looked, she found it. The dead bird lying on the path to school. Billy Kennedy drowning at sea. And every Sunday, Jesus Christ hanging from the cross in the stained-glass window at church. Cait couldn’t runaway from Death, so instead she had walked toward it to get a closer look. When Mrs. Lamont told the class to memorize a poem, Cait picked “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” When she recited the ode to flames and Death to the school, Mrs. Lamont had been both astonished and alarmed. True, most fourth graders weren’t obsessed with Death like Cait. But who could blame her?
    Graham touched her hand. “Are you okay?”
    She pulled it away. “Fine. Why would you ask?”
    â€œYou look sad, that’s all. Like you’d lost your best friend.” Graham glanced down at Precious at his feet.
    â€œIt’s nothing.” It felt like a betrayal, making light of Mama like that, so she told him the truth. “I was only thinking of my mother.”
    â€œShe was a fine woman, Caitie,” he said. “It was a sad day when she left us.”
    â€œTell me how you knew her.” Cait’s eyes filled with tears.
    â€œShe took charity upon me and my da after my mum died. She made sure we were fed during our grief. Organized the village ladies for meals. She made sure I went to church and properly dressed, too. She had sweetness in her. And a bit of the sass, too.”
    Yes, her mother had had sass. Once, Mama had threatened Da with the business end of a frying pan for tracking mud on her clean floor.
    Graham poured them both another drink and lifted his glass. “To Nora Macleod.”
    â€œTo Mama.”
    They downed their Scotch.
    Cait lost track of time as they laughed about Deydie’s cutting remarks and sour looks. Graham opened another bottle, wine this time. They joked about Gandiegow—how time had stood still while the rest of the world had whirled out of control. He leaned in closer. The coziness of the fire and the old dog at their feet made her feel like they’d known each other for years.
    â€œWould you be more comfortable on the couch?” he asked.
    â€œYou’re so nice to me.” She stared into his lovely eyes.
    â€œMaybe I want something from you,” he said.
    Her inebriated brain thought he sounded serious. “Surely you’re not talking about something naughty?” She reached out and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. It was nice touching him. He was quite the hunk. And because she could, she went ahead and ran her hand through his hair to the back of his head.
    His eyes lit up.
    Or it could’ve just been her imagination.
    She slid out of her chair and made her way to the overstuffed sofa. She wanted to ask him something but couldn’t remember what. She felt so tired that she lay down. It must’ve been all right with Graham because he came and sat on the floor near her head. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. Right before she drifted off to sleep, she heard him speak, but it didn’t make any sense.
    â€œWhy are you really in Gandiegow, Caitie Macleod?”
    * * *
    Cait had died. Or at least she wished she had. She tried moving an eyelash, but it hurt too much. An oversized pumpkin had grown inside her head and wanted out.
    For a long time, she lay as still as she could, hoping the pressure would go away. After a while, a slow realization hit her.
    A warm body lay next to hers. She put her hand outand touched warm fur.
Precious
. Cait stroked the dog and was rewarded with a gratified groan.
    That’s when she noticed a movement on the floor below her. She reached over and touched Graham’s hair.
    Shouldn’t the dog be sleeping on