She also thought some time away from the estate would make a great diversion from her annoyance with Holt Ridley. He hadn’t appeared before she left— still sleeping on California time, she supposed.
It was never a good idea to lash out at the person paying you. He clearly thought she’d overstepped last night. And, truth be told, she had. Normally, she might think that if she had to meddle to save the estate, she’d gladly do it again, but not if it meant losing this job. A good reference from Ridley would have too great an impact on the future she hoped to have. Getting out of his way for a few hours this morning seemed a brilliant idea.
But Caitlin hadn’t counted on the weather changing as fast as it did in Scotland. She’d left her coat at the estate, and the lightweight wool jumper she had on wasn’t quite up to the task. This morning, the wind blowing down the Long Island Sound from the north was as damp and chill as the wind howling across a Highland loch in winter. It didn’t make her homesick— quite. She preferred lovely spring days, warm blue skies, and the scent of bluebells in the woods, but she could get through the rest of this month knowing by spring, she’d be home and perhaps even in the job she wanted.
All the holiday decorations missing from the mansion must have been loaned to the village, she thought as she neared her objective. Shop windows were festooned with red and green garlands, bows, and wreaths. Pillar candles, mostly lit by tea lights, lent a warm glow to the shady side of the street. A large fir tree in the central square ahead was covered in lights she expected would be festive after dark, along with more ornaments than she could count, garland and more bows.
She spotted her first destination in the next block and picked up her pace, eager to get out of the wind. She wanted to find something from America her cousin’s twins would enjoy. She should have chosen a closer parking space on the street, but Farrell had warned she couldn’t count on those being available and had set the village car park a block behind the shops into the car’s GPS.
She passed a cluster of people who smiled, acknowledging her, then a few who ignored her except as an obstacle to be avoided. She supposed they were on their way to work. The sidewalk emptied after she passed them, and the scent of cinnamon and baking bread reached her. Tea and a scone suddenly sounded enticing. Did they have scones here?
Before she knew what was happening, a sharp tug on her shoulder strap spun her around. She held on as a young man tried to wrestle her purse away from her. “What do ye think ye’re doing? Let go of that,” she barked.
Despite using her elbows to defend herself, she was losing ground. Her attacker grabbed her wrist, trying to break her hold. He had almost gotten the strap away from her when a tall, dark-haired man yanked the would-be thief aside. Her attacker let go of her purse strap and fell back, swearing as the man spun him about, shoved him face-first against the bricks of a shop wall, and held him there with a solid grip on his neck and a well-muscled arm across his shoulders.
“Are you all right, miss?” the stranger asked, glancing with steel-blue eyes from Caitlin’s attacker to her and back again.
She took a quick inventory. She’d have a few bruises tomorrow along with a scrape on her hand from the buckle of the purse strap, but other than that, she was fine. “No permanent harm done,” she reported. “What are ye going to do with him?”
“Nothing.” The man tipped his head to indicate the police car rolling down the street in their direction. “I knew someone would call the cops. Your friend here obviously thought the street was empty.” He shifted his grip as the thief tried to break his hold. “Stand still. You seem to have forgotten in a small town like this, someone is always watching.”
After a few more minutes of standing in the cold while the deputy locked the thief in the back of his car then took their brief statements, Caitlin finally had the chance to thank her rescuer. “I’m Caitlin Paterson. That deputy called you Doc,” she continued as the car pulled away. “Are you a medical doctor?” He had a few glints of silver at his temples to go with his confident manner, making her guess he was in his late forties or early fifties.
“Veterinarian,” he reported. “Jim Coates at your service. From your accent, I’d say you’re not from around here.”
She gave a rueful laugh. “I’m from Scotland. I arrived three days ago.” With a glance toward the retreating car, she added, “No’ the welcome I expected.”
His gaze followed hers toward the police car as it pulled away. “Hell of an introduction to the village. Sorry about that.” He shook his head, then turned back to her. “I’ve been to Scotland. A few years ago. Beautiful place.”
“Thank you. Look, I owe you for today. Can I at least buy you a cup of coffee?”
“I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m late for my first appointment. But I’d enjoy talking to you about Scotland sometime.” His gaze dropped to her hand, and he frowned. “Still, you might want to get that cut looked at.”
“Nay, ’tis just a scratch. But I’d love to hear about your trip. Of course, another time will do. I’m so sorry to have made ye late.”
Dr. Coates nodded what she took for his agreement. As she watched him turn at the first side street and disappear, a woman joined her on the sidewalk.
“Hello, I’m Alice Nash. I saw the constable’s car leaving from my shop.” She gestured to the bakery Caitlin had scented just before she’d been accosted. “You must be shaken up. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll make you something hot to drink.”
Caitlin nodded, overwhelmed by the woman’s sympathetic tone. After the last half hour, Caitlin needed to sit and unwind. She’d thaw out for a few minutes, let her hands stop shaking, then return to her car and head back to the estate. Shopping could wait for another day.
A cheerful jingle from the brass doorbell announced their entry. Caitlin paused just inside the door for a moment to take a breath and let her face warm. Delightful scents of bread, sugar, and spices filled the air.
Alice kept going, then paused and turned around to face her. “Have a seat and get off your feet for a few minutes. What would you like? On the house.”
Caitlin judged Alice to be in her mid-forties, but she had a timeless motherly air, reinforced by her generous offer. “On the…oh, thank you. That’s no’ necessary.”
“Nonsense. My treat,” Alice insisted.
Caitlin relented. “Tea would be wonderful. Milk and sugar. And do ye have any scones?”
Alice grinned. “Probably not like you’re used to, but try one and tell me what you think.” She waved, indicating the bakery’s interior. “Sit anywhere. I’ll bring everything to you.” She leaned a hand on the counter and waited for Caitlin to make up her mind.
Caitlin sank into a chair at the nearest cafe table and let herself breathe. Last evening’s argument with Holt Ridley and this morning’s events were not an auspicious start to her trip. She watched Alice bustle around behind the counter while telling herself to stop the nonsense. She sounded like her granny. The guy had only tried to grab her purse. She wasn’t hurt, not seriously. She still had her belongings, and she’d met a knight in shining armor who might, with his recollections of his time in Scotland, ease her homesickness a wee bit, and a friendly baker who offered her the comfort of a warm cup of tea and a scone. On balance, the morning was turning out more positive than negative. Jet lag had to be what was making her shaky.
In moments, Alice brought a tray with a proper teapot and all the trimmings, three small, triangular scones, jam, and whipped cream.
“I made an assumption from your accent,” she said with a nod toward the small bowl of cream. “I don’t have any clotted cream, so I hope this will do. With the strawberry jam, right? It’s all local, from nearby farms.”
