Meet Me in Scotland by Patience Griffin Page A

heart with the knife he held. But she wouldn’tlet him see; she came from a long line of strong Scottish women, dammit.
    One of Emma’s bags slipped and instantly Dominic rushed to her rescue, leaving his knife on the chopping block, catching the sack before it hit the floor.
    â€œThank you, Dominic,” Emma said, still the polite lass she always was.
    â€œNot a problem.” Dominic opened the door for them. But as Claire walked through, he gave her a pointed look for leaving him in the lurch. “You’re not going to reconsider?”
    â€œAre you?” Claire shot back, knowing they spoke of entirely different things.
    Emma touched Claire’s arm. “Go on without me. I’ll stay and help Dominic.”
    Claire opened her mouth, but Dominic jumped in first.
    â€œNo, Emma. I’ll be all right. Gabe said he’ll be here soon to help.”
    Why did a pink blush fill Emma’s cheeks? Claire would have to remember to ask her about that later.
    Dominic went inside, leaving them to get the bags settled into the wagon.
    â€œClaire, this is a lot of food,” Emma said. “I’m surprised Dominic didn’t complain about you giving away the restaurant’s goods.”
    â€œYou know Dominic. He’s passionate about feeding people.” In this one area only, Dominic didn’t hold the financial reins so tightly. It was important for her husband to feed people, whether they could afford it or not. To him, food equaled love. And no one loved like Dominic Russo.
    Claire stared at the restaurant door and longed to run back inside and tell Dominic that she wanted things to go back to the way they were. But in the next second,wanting her own baby outweighed that urge—stronger than ever. She took it as a sign she shouldn’t give in. Dominic would have to be the one to cave. He needed to give her a baby. She could feel she was right all the way to her toes. And her toes never lied.
    With the wagon filled, she and Emma each grabbed a side of the rope handle and dragged the goods across the village to the one-room cottage of baby William. Coll answered the door and ushered them in. He took care of the groceries while Claire introduced Emma to Amy.
    Since she and Dominic had arrived in Gandiegow six weeks ago, Claire had spent a lot of time with Amy in the small cottage. This cottage had no room for a large crib, changing table, or other extras; just a small two-person table, two chairs, and one cradle beside the bed. Propped up on top of the poinsettia quilt was her new friend, Amy, with her cropped dark hair held back with a headband. The wee one was at her breast.
    Claire went straight to the baby and ran her fingers lightly over his whisper-soft hair as he nursed. She wondered if their own baby would have dark hair like Dominic’s or turn out to be a carrottop like herself.
    â€œAh, Amy, ye did well,” Claire said. “He’s so beautiful.” She turned to Emma. “Get over here and see the wee lad.” Her friend stood over by the door as if worried about the babe’s privacy.
Which is ridiculous
.
    Amy looked at Emma and smiled. “’Tis okay. He’s just having his dinner.”
    Emma nodded and walked toward them. Claire grabbed her arm and dragged her closer.
    â€œIsn’t he something, Emms?” Claire couldn’t help but gush. Her praise made Amy beam.
    Emma clasped her hands in front of her. “He is beautiful. I’ve never seen so much hair on a baby before,” Emma said.
    â€œHe looks like he’s wearing a baby wig, doesn’t he?” Amy laughed.
    â€œAye,” Claire said. Baby William’s eyes were shut as he fed. “It’s remarkable, isn’t it, that one so young knows how to get his food? He’s lovely, Amy.”
    Claire turned to Coll, who wore a goofy grin. “Och, Coll, with that grand smile on your face, you’re acting as if you’re the one who invented