The Accidental Scot by Patience Griffin Page A

get the offline conveyor up and going. I have plenty of controls experience to give you a hand.”
    By the stubborn set of her jaw, he didn’t think she’d accept his help.
    Finally, she turned to him. “Actually, that would begrand. I have an appointment in the morning, but afterward we can discuss further what MTech has in mind.”
    Max rinsed the platter and handed it to her. “What about your father? Shouldn’t I discuss the deal with him at the same time?”
    â€œNay. Tomorrow’s not good.” She gave him no other explanation. As she dried, she seemed to be wrestling with the universe.
    Alistair Philippa McDonnell was an interesting creature. She acted as tough as any roughneck on an oil rig but had a vulnerability that made him want to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be okay. Which was ridiculous on so many levels. He shook the thought away and concentrated on the next dish.
    With both of them working, it didn’t take long to get the kitchen back in order and the counters wiped clean. Pippa set items out for tea in the morning. The act seemed so domestic and natural that Max uncharacteristically wished he had someone at his apartment to share a cup of coffee or tea with in the morning before heading off to work.
    He banished the idea. Marriage and family were for people like his brother or sister, but not for him. He was happily married to his career—liked his independence. And planned to keep his life just as it was.
    Pippa held the swinging kitchen door open. “Are you ready?”
    â€œYes.” He made his way down the hall to the front.
    She retrieved their coats from the closet. He started to reach out and help her, but she shied away from him, slipping into her parka herself.
Fine. Apparently, chivalry is dead in Scotland.
    He slipped into his down jacket and put on his hat. “So what is this tea your father wants you to pick up?”
    Pippa walked onto the porch and waited for him. “Our Bethia has recently become a certified herbalist—at seventy-five, no less. She’s one of the ladies from Quilting Central.”
    â€œI met her today,” he said as they made their way down the boardwalk. “Deydie’s sidekick, right?”
    â€œAye. Doc MacGregor talked her into it. With Bethia on call, it gives the doc a chance to get away now and then. As we speak, Doc’s in Edinburgh with his da, something about minor surgery.”
    â€œSo what has Bethia prescribed?” he asked.
    â€œShe’s concocted a remedy for my da that she hopes will help heal his bones. She’s done wonders for others in the village.” Pippa got this worried look on her face and he wanted to reach over and smooth out the pinched line between her eyebrows.
    â€œYour father, what’s going on? How did he get injured? Is he going to be okay?”
    She gave an evasive shrug. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice caught on the end. “It’s hard to see Da so . . . so . . . He’s the strongest man I know.” She seemed to crumple.
    He didn’t know what to do and was surprised by how deeply he felt her pain. Irrationally, he wanted to hold her. But he couldn’t do that—her independent streak was wider than the ocean before them. In the next second, she confirmed it, straightening into a rigid pillar, back to being strong and prickly.
    â€œI’m not normally so—”
    â€œHuman?” he said, cutting her off. “It’s okay.”
    She pushed her curls back, glaring at him.
    He didn’t back down. “You care about your father and there’s nothing wrong with needing someone to talk to or to lean on every now and then. I get the feeling you’re used to being
the shoulder to lean on
and not having one for yourself.”
    â€œDon’t pretend you know me, Mr. McKinley. Ye’re here to conduct business, not to be my