Chapter 38
“I don’t believe it ,” Denny muttered while Amanda was looking out the window at the onslaught of snow. “That little vixen is out to steal Alec’s heart,” she told Maureen when Maureen took a seat next to her.
“You can’t deny she’s very sweet and pretty,” Maureen said. “I’ve caught James staring at her more than once.”
Denny assessed her older sister’s face. “She’s no better looking than you are.”
“Yeah, right. And ten years younger.”
“Age isn’t everything.”
“If you say so.”
Denny had already fed Princess and checked on the puppies. Rosie in particular. Denny was amazed at how full of love her heart felt when she saw little Rosie. This must be what it was like to fall in love. She realized she hadn’t loved any of her former boyfriends. She looked across the room at Alec and had to admit she was attracted to him. But he, apparently, had no interest in her. He was eating up Lydia’s flirtatious nature. She wished she could hear what they were talking about. Their faces changed from seriousness to levity.
“I’d better get back in the kitchen,” Maureen said to Denny. “I should be taking photos. May I borrow your phone?”
As Denny handed the phone to Maureen, it rang. Denny recognized the ring tone as belonging to Agnes from her bookstore.
“I can’t come to work today,” Agnes said. “I’m sick. Just a head cold, but I can’t go to work like this.” She sneezed, then coughed.
“Is there someone who can fill in for you?” Denny already knew the answer was no.
“Sorry, all my friends have jobs or little kids to take care of.” Agnes sneezed.
Denny should hop on the next jet home but wouldn’t. “Don’t worry about it,” she told Agnes. Denny pictured her cozy little bookstore dark and devoid of customers. Hardly anyone came in there, so what was the big deal? She hated to admit that her father had been right. “Like flushing money down the toilet,” he’d told her more than once.
Denny felt devastated that her parents had died in debt. She couldn’t have helped them, but maybe Maureen would have been able to, although she doubted James would cough up a penny for their parents.
Her hunch was their father had invested in a startup company that flopped. Put all his eggs in one basket, as they say.
No use wallowing in remorse over her parents. She had problems enough right where she was in the present. She glanced across the room and tried to get Alec’s attention, but he was fixated on speaking to Lydia.
“Well?” Maureen asked. “May I use your phone? I want to take pictures of my breakfast dishes as I prepare them.”
“Yes, although my phone is ancient, and I think yours has a much better camera on it—doesn’t it.”
“You’re right. I’ll dash upstairs and get it if you’ll keep an eye on Amanda. I don’t want her going outside again. Too dangerous.”
“Sure, Sis.” Denny found herself standing but couldn’t recall getting up. She plopped down on a chair and decided to be content . Contentment and gratitude would be her words for the day—if she could swing it.
Alec escorted Lydia to the table. “According to Mrs. Ross, if Lydia has a head concussion, she should not fall asleep. I was having a hard time entertaining her.” They both sat across the table from Denny. Lydia did look dazed, but Denny didn’t buy it. Amanda landed next to Lydia and started chattering about playing outside again.
“Sorry, sweetie, but I promised your mother I’d keep you inside,” Denny said, already fretting about her bookstore again. She knew she’d feel better if she could get out and purchase more merchandise. Yet she’d go further into debt. But she hated to lose the one job she had enjoyed. Her own little bookshop. She remembered opening night and the excitement she’d felt. Her mother had attended the festive evening, but her father had stayed home with some excuse Denny didn’t believe. And yet Denny missed him beyond words. She missed both of her parents, for different reasons.
Twenty minutes later Maureen descended the stairs a changed woman. She’d showered and coiffed her hair into a French roll. And she wore a snazzy fuchsia-colored dress that Denny had never seen before. And matching three-inch heels. Denny was happy to see her sister feeling her old self but had to wonder how she planned to cook dressed that way. Was she expecting a camera crew?
Alec got to his feet as she neared the table. “You look very nice, Mrs. Cook,” he said.
“Please call me Maureen.”
“I agree,” Denny said. “You look gorgeous.”
“Are you going to work?” Amanda asked her.
“Not exactly.” Maureen spoke to Denny. “May I impose on you for a few minutes to take pictures of me?”
Denny rolled her eyes. “Sure, no trouble,” she said. “Call me when you need me.”
“In other words, you’re not coming out to play with me in the snow?” Amanda said, her face reddening as it often did before a tantrum. Denny had witnessed her tantrums since Amanda was a three-year-old.
Denny would ignore her. Dad would do the same thing. He would not tolerate bad behavior.
“Your mother told me not to let you outside again.”
Amanda’s face screwed up. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do, very much. But you saw what happened. The snow is sliding off the roof of the building. It could have killed you.” Denny knew she was being a drama queen, but she needed to make her point and stay firm. Lydia seemed to have no desire to help with Amanda’s behavior, which irked Denny. Lydia was being paid to take care of the girl, plus an all-expense-paid trip to Scotland. Not that Denny wasn’t the recipient of a free trip here too. She needed to thank Maureen, but now was not the time. She would go into the kitchen to be Maureen’s assistant. And Denny was a pretty good photographer when it came down to it.
But for now, she would sit with Alec and Lydia. As she looked at Alec across the table, she felt a purr of attraction. He glanced up at that moment, and their eyes met. Oh yeah, she liked this guy, which was totally ridiculous. Alec lived in another country. She didn’t even know how long she had to live—literally. She would enjoy him for as long as she was here. A whirlwind romance like those in the movies. She remembered her father’s words: it takes two to tango. Her shoulders slumped. No one tangoed anymore, and she was a party of one.
The hotel’s front door opened with such force that it rattled on its hinges. A burly redheaded man wearing knee-high boots and what appeared to be a hunting jacket strode in.
“Here’s Gordon MacDonald, the hotel’s sole proprietor.” Alec stood and extended his arm to shake the man’s hand. “Good morning, Gordon.”
“What in heaven’s name is going on?” His ruddy face radiated anger. “Where is everyone?”
Denny had seen worse and was not afraid to speak. She recalled how she’d been the only one who would stand up to their father. “Good morning, I’m Denny—” She decided to be prudent and not mention her last name since Campbells were not welcome on Skye. She put out her hand, but the hulk of a man did not shake it. She was a paying customer, and her sister was cooking in the kitchen. How dare he treat her like a nobody?
He tugged on his shaggy red beard.
“Who are you?” he asked her.
“A paying customer.” She looked around the dining room. “One of the few who stayed when the electricity and heat went out last night. And my sister is cooking in the kitchen.”
“Without my permission?”
Denny folded her arms across her chest and glared back at him. “She is a world-famous chef, and you’re lucky to have her.” Denny was not afraid of anyone. At least she wouldn’t let him know she was. In the depths of her mind, she heard her dad singing, “The Campbells are coming, hurrah, hurrah!”
At that moment, Maureen strolled out of the kitchen in all her glory. Gordon MacDonald was obviously wowed by her radiance. How could he not be? Her hips swaying, Maureen looked ravishing and confident in her fuchsia calf-length gown.
“Meet my sister, Maureen,” Denny said.