The Accidental Scot by Patience Griffin Page A

got one thing spot-on. Strong women do make the world go round.”
    â€œThey certainly do.” His mother, grandmother, Bitsy, Hannah, and every woman he’d met in Gandiegow were a testament to that.
    Relative peace surrounded the two of them as they reached the car lot, but not silence. Waves crashing against the embankment filled the space where conversation had been, reminding him that he wasn’t in Texas anymore.
    Pippa maneuvered the car up the treacherous slick hill, seemingly in deep thought. He wanted to ask her what was so perplexing that it would stitch her eyebrows together like that. Hopefully, she wasn’t worrying overthe MTech proposal. He would do his best to make it advantageous for both parties, as much as was in his power.
    At the factory, they were making their way gingerly through the slick parking lot when Pippa slipped on a patch of ice. Max instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, jerking her toward him.
    She smelled so good. No perfume for this Scottish Amazon. Only shampoo, body wash, and something all her own.
    Perhaps he held her too close for too long. She tried to dislodge herself from him.
    â€œNope.” He stay attached to her arm, guiding her up the walk. “We’re going to hold on to each other to keep the other one from falling.”
    â€œOr we’re both going down?” she mumbled.
    He chuckled, relishing holding her. He liked keeping her safe, though that was only more fantasy. Pippa could take care of herself.
    â€œDo you have salt I can put down before the kids get here?” he asked.
    â€œAye.” Pippa unlocked the building and pointed behind Bonnie’s desk. “Utility closet.” The same place the kilt and boots had been.
    As Max spread the salt on various patches in the parking lot and sidewalk, a van pulled up with factory workers. Taog and Murdoch gave him a hand and soon the walkway was done.
    Back inside, Pippa took Max to the factory floor, where a large space had been cleared and tables had been lined up. Household items covered each one—oldbooks, jars, rope, glue, glitter, a cheese shredder, spoons, bowls of rocks . . . all sorts of junk.
    â€œOkay, everybody,” Pippa announced. “The children will be here any minute. Look at the list, find yere assignment, and get to your tables.”
    Max turned to Pippa. “Where will I be?”
    â€œWith me at my table.” She handed him a red Santa cap.
    â€œWhat’s this for?” He wasn’t a frigging elf.
    â€œIt’s for the children. Now put it on. And a smile, too, or else ye’ll scare the wee ones with that frown.” She donned a matching cap. “We’ll have the six – and seven-year-olds.”
    â€œFine.” He pulled his on, feeling as petulant as a seven-year-old himself.
    Max remembered Jake at seven. There were almost nine years between them, and back then he had found Jake annoying as hell. The kid followed him everywhere and bugged the crap out of him and his friends. Not until Max had gone to college had he realized how super cool his kid brother was. Now, they were best buds. He’d have to call his brother tonight to see how things were going back home. Hopefully, Jake had calmed Mom down and she wasn’t still on the rampage over Max missing Christmas.
    â€œAre you all right?” Concern rested in Pippa’s eyes.
    â€œYeah, just thinking about my brother.” And how it sucked that he was stuck in a wheelchair, a young father with an energetic son.
    At that moment, a sea of rug rats rushed in, filling the large open area of the factory with laughter and excitement.
    Max saw one last chance for a reprieve. He looked to Pippa . . . and faked a cough. “Are you sure I’m not contagious? I’d hate to get the kids sick.”
    â€œPathetic.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe a big man such as yereself is afraid of a few wee