12. Madison #3
I stopped short, my eyes drawn to a booth with handmade blown-glass items, instantly reminded of the pieces my birth mother had left me.
“See something else you like?” Alistair asked.
“Can we take a look here quickly?” I was already walking over to the booth before Alistair could respond, finding a woman seated behind a table of delicate glass baubles, each one unique in shape and color.
Some of them would have made lovely Christmas ornaments, others were the kinds of things that could be displayed year-round.
“These are beautiful,” I told her.
Her smile lines ran deep, her face weathered by age. Curls of gray had begun at her temples. She must have been in her mid-sixties if I were to guess.
I picked up her business card. “Lesley Ferguson. Oh, you’ve got a shop here in Braeburn?” I said, spotting her business address.
She pointed down the road. “Aye, it’s a small studio where I do my hot glass and furnace work. Are you a fan of handblown glass?”
“Well, not exactly. I mean, I am, but it’s more of a recent discovery,” I explained. “I’ve recently learned that my mother—my birth mother—was a glass artist. She left me a few pieces when she passed away, and I’ve been trying to learn more about it ever since.”
“What was her name?” Lesley asked.
“Darlene MacLeod.”
Lesley’s eyes widened in recognition. “Ach, I heard Darlene had passed. I do believe you have her eyes. We actually ran into each other more than a few times at markets and craft fairs over the years.”
“You knew her?” I exclaimed, turning to Alistair, a smile lighting up my face.
“Wow,” he teased. “Those earrings worked fast.”
“Not well,” Lesley admitted. “Just to say hello to, really. I remember she was always very lively. Like a ball of sunshine.”
Alistair smirked, glancing at me.
“And her glassworks were beautiful. She was very skilled at crafting animals. Sea creatures, especially. She loved those.”
“That’s one of the things she left me!” I said. “A small glass dolphin.”
“Scotland’s one of the best places in Europe to see wild dolphins.”
“I didn’t know that,” I gushed. I knew Lesley couldn’t give me a ton of insight into my mother’s life, nor did I expect her to. But this small connection was more than I’d been able to achieve in months, and relief uncoiled in my chest.
“If you’re interested in trying your hand at glassblowing,” Lesley said, “I do offer lessons. I know it’s not going to answer the questions you probably have about your mother, but maybe it’ll help you feel closer to her in some way. Closer to this thing that brought her so much joy.”
“I would love that!” I said. “How do I sign up?”
Lesley and Alistair both chuckled at my enthusiasm. She handed me a clipboard. “Leave me your name and email, and I’ll get in contact with some dates.”
I scribbled my information down, so excited my hand shook.
“Perfect,” Lesley said, taking the clipboard back. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” I told her, barely containing my glee as we walked away.
Maybe this was the reason I’d felt compelled to say yes to the nanny gig and stay in Braeburn.
Maybe the universe had brought Alistair and Kenna into my life in order to push me in Lesley’s direction.
If I liked glassblowing, it would mean I’d have to stick around in Braeburn longer and, in this moment, that prospect didn’t bother me in the slightest.
“You look like you’re vibrating,” Alistair quipped.
I laughed. “Sort of feels like I am.” We stopped walking. “Do you believe in fate?”
“I’m not sure.” The corner of his mouth curled. “Is that what you think is happening here?”
“Maybe I’ll learn glassblowing from Lesley—”
“—and discover an instinctive talent?”
I caught my lip between my teeth as he leaned closer. “It could happen, right? Maybe I’ll be amazing at it just like my bio mom. And I’ll realize that this was what has been missing from my life all these years.”
Alistair arched an eyebrow. “And to think you didn’t even want to come to the festival in the first place.”
“I never said I didn’t want to come. I said I didn’t need you to buy me things.”
“But what if it was those things that put you on the path to Lesley?” he pointed out.
“Are you trying to say I owe you a debt of gratitude?” My gaze briefly flicked from his eyes to his lips. They looked so damn kissable. I wrenched my gaze back up, and that was worse. The man shouldn’t be allowed to have eyes that smoldered.
He pressed a little closer, our coats brushing, and a strange, twisting tension tightened around us. I wanted to lean into him. To fall into the cradle of his arms, tilt my head up, and leave the rest up to…
“If there was something you wanted to give me…as thanks…I wouldn’t object,” he murmured.
I smirked, pressing up on my toes. I reached for his coat to steady myself, feeling a tug behind my navel as he tilted his head and—
“Daddy!” Kenna cried from down the street. “We bought Princess little shoes. They have sparkles!”
Alistair huffed, the cloud of air rising between us as he narrowed his eyes in Princess’s direction. “That bloody dog has got to go.”