{"product_id":"it-happened-in-scotland-isbn-9780451476401","title":"It Happened in Scotland","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Trouble With Scotland\u003c\/i\u003e—a charming new romance set in the beautiful Scottish Highlands.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eChristmas in the sleepy Scottish fishing village of Gandiegow this year is a time for quilting, patching up broken hearts, and rekindling an old flame...\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e After pulling herself out of a three-year fog of grief over the loss of her husband, Joe, Rachel is bringing their five-year-old daughter to see his hometown of Gandiegow and visit with his grandfather. But Rachel wasn’t planning on running into Joe’s cousin, the man who made her have second thoughts at the altar...\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Brodie has come home to help his grandfather’s fishing business, but he’d prefer not to see Rachel. Although she did break his heart six years ago, the grip she has on him hasn’t faltered. If they can stop butting heads long enough and learn to overcome the past, they may find new love in the new year...\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eIt Happened in Scotland\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Griffin gets loss, love, and laughter like no other writer of contemporary romance.”—Grace Burrowes, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003ePraise for the Kilts and Quilts Novels\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Griffin’s style is as warm and comfortable as a cherished heirloom quilt.”—Lori Wilde, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “A wonderful, heartwarming story that will convince you of the power of love.”—Janet Chapman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cb\u003ePatience Griffin \u003c\/b\u003eis the author of the Kilts and Quilts novels, including \u003ci\u003eThe Trouble with Scotland\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Accidental Scot\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eSome Like It Scottish\u003c\/i\u003e. \u003ci\u003eTo Scotland with Love\u003c\/i\u003e, her first book in the series, was a double RITA® Award finalist. She grew up in a small town along the Mississippi River and spends her days writing stories about hearth and home and dreaming about the fictional small town of Gandiegow, Scotland.Chapter One \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHolding her daughter’s hand, Rachel Granger stood at the baggage claim alongside the woman with whom they’d sat on the flight from Chicago to Glasgow. Rachel’s new friend, Cait Buchanan, was flying home, whereas Rachel was bringing her daughter to Scotland for the first time. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel had been to Gandiegow, the small town on the northeast coast of Scotland, twice before. Once to marry her husband. And again to bury him. She glanced down at five-year-old Hannah, who looked so much like her father, Joe. Rachel had been avoiding this trip for the past three years, but it was time for Hannah to meet her great-grandfather whether the village of Gandiegow despised Rachel or not. Her spunky daughter was growing and changing so quickly that Rachel knew this year she had to pull herself together for Hannah’s sake. No more using work as her scapegoat to get out of going to Scotland, especially during the holidays. This year Rachel was going to give her daughter a Christmas. A Christmas with a real tree, gingerbread cookies, and a family gathering.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait stepped up to the luggage carousel. “There’s mine.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“It’s huge. Let me help.” Rachel turned to her daughter. “Can you stay here and watch my things?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sure, Mommy.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe didn’t have to worry; Hannah would guard Rachel’s tote along with her own \u003ci\u003eFrozen\u003c\/i\u003e backpack like a loyal and headstrong soldier if anyone got near.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the large suitcase approached, Cait laughed. “I always pack too much. I was only gone a week, but I brought three times what I needed.” She reached for the handle, Rachel for the wheels. Together they tugged it to the floor with a \u003ci\u003ewhoompf\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m glad ye’re taking me up on my offer,” Cait said. “Especially since I’m heading to Gandiegow, too. What are the odds?” A green tinge came over her face and she grimaced. “Do you mind, um, watching . . .”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Go,” Rachel urged. “We’ve got your luggage.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait raced for the toilet sign while Rachel rolled the humongous bag over to Hannah. The few steps provided just enough time and space for apprehension to once again seep into Rachel. She wasn’t looking forward to staying in Gandiegow, but she’d come a long way from the twenty-four-year-old bride who’d walked down the aisle in the village’s church and then the young widow who’d laid a rose on her husband’s grave. The village hadn’t known when she’d been back for the funeral that she and Joe had separated and were heading for a divorce, but they’d spurned her just the same for bringing one of their own home in an urn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel rested Cait’s bag beside Hannah and sighed heavily, feeling much older than thirty. Death, responsibility, and parenthood could do that to a person.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mommy?” Hannah said. “Is Cait going to be okay?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Yes. Cait will be fine.” Nothing seven or so months wouldn’t cure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe way Cait had been downing saltines all through the flight, especially during the turbulence, made her pregnancy obvious. Rachel had experienced the same joy and anxiousness which showed on her new friend’s face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRight when Rachel was beginning to worry, Cait ­reappeared—white, wrung-out, but with a small smile on her face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sorry about that,” she said when she’d rejoined them. She studied Rachel. “So ye’ve guessed.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“That depends on whether you want anyone to know or not.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The morning sickness is much worse this time. The doctor says it’s a good thing. But I haven’t told anyone. Not even my husband.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAutomatically, Rachel’s eyebrows shot up, but she got her reaction under control quickly. She wouldn’t judge. Cait’s relationship with her husband was her own business.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer new friend bit her lip. “I don’t want to get his hopes up. I’ve miscarried twice before. It’s been hard on him because he travels a lot and he worries about me so.” She glanced at Rachel, hopeful. “So ye’ll keep my secret?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mum’s the word.” She gave her a reassuring smile. Rachel knew a lot about secrets and keeping them hidden. She looked over at her daughter, who was singing the song “Let It Go” quietly to her doll.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel shivered as the words of the chorus rang out, “\u003ci\u003eThe cold never bothered me anyway.\u003c\/i\u003e” Yes, it was winter in Scotland, but it wasn’t the cold which \u003ci\u003ebothered\u003c\/i\u003e Rachel. It was what lay ahead in Gandiegow which haunted her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer luggage came around the conveyor, much smaller than Cait’s as they were only going to be in Scotland for a short while. Just long enough for Hannah to spend some time with her grandfather, Abraham Clacher, sing a few Christmas carols, and go back to the States at the beginning of the New Year. In and out without a worry or a fuss.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel pulled their bags off the carousel as Cait’s cell phone chimed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Our ride is here,” she said. “I’ll wait for you on the other side of customs.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe line for them was surprisingly fast and it didn’t take long to meet back up with her. As the little group wheeled their things through the doors, three people rushed toward Cait, and she tugged Rachel over to meet her friends.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This is Ross Armstrong. His wife, Sadie. And Ross’s mother, Grace.” Cait smiled at them fondly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel remembered Ross and his mother—when she’d been to Gandiegow before—but had had little interaction with them. At least this visit was under better circumstances. Sadie, a brown-haired pixie from the United States, was a new addition and welcomed her warmly.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Thank you for letting us hitch a ride.” Rachel had canceled her rental car when the plane landed. She only needed transportation to and from the small coastal town, as it was a closed community—no cars, no roads, only walking paths along the ocean and between the buildings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m glad it worked out,” Ross said. “We got a break in the weather. But a winter storm is coming in later tonight.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“We were closing down the house here in Glasgow,” Grace explained. “My sister passed last month and I’m moving back to Gandiegow.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel already knew the particulars through Cait. Grace’s sister had died from complications of pneumonia, though she’d been dealing with MS for years. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Rachel said, but cringed inwardly as the words came out. She’d been the recipient of that phrase too often.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGrace smiled at her kindly as one who accepted things easily. “Thank you. Glynnis is in a better place.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSadie took Grace’s arm lovingly, giving her a sad, understanding smile. They seemed closer than most mothers and daughters-in-law.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Let’s get on the road. I’m anxious to get home,” Ross said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs they drove to Gandiegow, Ross and Sadie filled Cait in on the gossip from the last two weeks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen there was a break in the conversation, Rachel inquired after Abraham. “How is he doing?” She knew of his illness, only because when she’d called, he had a coughing fit while they were on the phone. She had no idea how long he’d been sick and how bad it was.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRoss glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “He’s the same ole Abraham. But if ye’re speaking of his health, he’s not well. He quit fishing about six months ago, which told the rest of us how serious it really is.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Oh.” More guilt. Rachel should’ve brought her daughter sooner to get to know the only grandfather she had.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn awkward silence came over the van for a few moments, but then Ross jumped in and filled it. “Mum, are ye going to be okay staying at the family cottage?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGrace turned to Rachel, explaining. “I moved to Glasgow to help my sister a few years ago, leaving my lads to care for the cottage in Gandiegow. My eldest son, John, and his family live there now, and it’s time for me to come home.” She patted Ross on the shoulder as if to assure him. “I’ll be fine. So, Rachel, where will ye and Hannah be staying this time? Thistle Glen Lodge?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The quilting dorm,” Cait clarified to Rachel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait had explained all about her venture, the Kilts and Quilts retreat, which had turned the sleepy fishing village of Gandiegow into a go-to quilting destination.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m not sure,” Rachel answered sheepishly. Though she’d talked to Abraham two weeks ago, and he’d asked her to come and bring Hannah, she’d made no promises. She’d booked the flight and a hotel room in Glasgow to get her bearings. Yes, she wanted a family Christmas for her daughter, but had given herself an out. If she had second thoughts about going to Gandiegow, she and Hannah would have had their own special Christmas vacation at the Jury’s Inn in the big city.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Providence had stepped in when Rachel had taken her seat next to Cait. Rachel had innocently told her of Gandiegow, having no idea Cait hailed from the village of only sixty-three houses.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You can stay with me and my son, Mattie, in the big house,” Cait offered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“That’s so kind.” But Rachel wouldn’t impose. “I think Hannah and I would like to stay at Thistle Glen Lodge. The way you described it, it sounds perfect.” She kissed her daughter’s head. “That is, if it’s okay. Do you have a quilt retreat going on right now?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“One’s starting tomorrow, which is why I couldn’t stay longer in the US. But there’s plenty of room. Deydie, my gran, said we had to keep the retreat small as we’re so close to Christmas.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sounds fantastic.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“When will Graham be done shooting?” Ross asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Graham?” Rachel said, more in disbelief than a ­question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuddenly, all the pieces clicked together. From the first moment, Cait had looked familiar. \u003ci\u003eThat’s where I’ve seen her. \u003c\/i\u003eOn the cover of \u003ci\u003ePeople\u003c\/i\u003e magazine, along with her famous movie star husband.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel remembered bits and pieces of the article, the headlines announcing that the most eligible bachelor on the planet was no longer available—that he, in his mid-forties and sexy as ever, had married the thirtysomething Cait. Hearts had been broken everywhere. But that wasn’t the biggest shock. Graham had a grown son who had recently passed away, and he and Cait were raising his grandson.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow could Rachel have missed it . . . to have read the article and for it to have \u003ci\u003enot\u003c\/i\u003e registered that Graham was from Gandiegow? Her only excuse was that she’d just been trying to make it through day by day back then. “So Graham still lives in the village?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait gave her an impish shrug. “When he’s not working on a movie.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel understood why her seatmate hadn’t shared about who her husband was. It must be hard being in her shoes. From the day Graham Buchanan’s biography was released, Cait’s life must’ve been turned upside down with the paparazzi, and the knowledge that women everywhere lusted after her husband. Rachel suspected it had been nice for Cait to have made a friend who didn’t know her husband was a BBC star.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eYeah. Graham\u003c\/i\u003e,” Sadie said, kind of dreamily. “My reaction exactly.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hey, now, lass,” Ross said with mock hurt. “Yere husband’s in the vehicle with ye.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSadie patted him. “You’ve nothing to worry about. Graham only has eyes for Cait.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait reached over and laid a hand on Rachel’s arm. “Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I completely understand.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCait nodded and spoke to Ross. “Graham’ll be home Christmas Eve. He has a break between movies, though. It’ll be great for Mattie and me to have him back.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel wondered if Cait would tell him then about the pregnancy. Surely she wouldn’t keep it hidden from him for too long.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe conversation switched to Christmas, and Rachel turned inward, thinking more on her own turmoil than the joyous occasion they were describing. Hannah leaned against her and fell asleep. Rachel dozed, too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe came awake as the van pulled down the hill toward the parking lot. Ross was talking on the phone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Good. We could use your help getting my mum’s stuff to the cottage.” He hung up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel gently woke Hannah. “We’re here, sweetie.” She glanced around at the familiar site of the bluffs looming out of the earth at the back of the village, and how the small houses sat precariously at the edge of the ocean—a quaint row of dwellings daring the sea to engulf them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRoss parked the van and jumped out to help his mother.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRachel felt stiff from the flight and then the long drive to Gandiegow. She slowly climbed out and then helped Hannah.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs she reached in to grab her tote, something on the walkway caught her eye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo. \u003ci\u003eSomeone\u003c\/i\u003e caught her eye. \u003ci\u003eIt can’t be! \u003c\/i\u003eStrolling toward the parking lot, he looked so much like Joe. Tall, broad, with dark hair. But where Joe’s hair had been kept short, the better to peddle pharmaceuticals, his cousin’s long hair blew in the wind off the ocean. Six years had changed him. His features were chiseled, and where an easy smile for her had once existed, a stony frown had taken its place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut he was as beautiful as ever and Rachel stopped breathing. Maybe he was a manifestation. But he kept walking toward them, while the voice in her head shouted loud and clear, \u003ci\u003eWhat is he doing here?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mommy, are you all right?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor the life of her, Rachel couldn’t stop staring at the man she never thought she’d see again. They all turned to look at her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen he got close enough, he nodded in her direction. “Ye’re back.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow could he have no emotion on his face? She was dying here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Hey, Brodie,” Ross said. “Grab a bag from the boot.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWhat in the blazes is she doing here?\u003c\/i\u003e Brodie Wallace couldn’t believe his eyes. It felt as if Ross had sucker punched him in the stomach because he’d said nothing when they’d spoken on the phone. Yet here Rachel Granger was standing in Gandiegow’s parking lot. The woman who had ripped his heart out. The only woman he’d ever allowed himself to love. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe reached into the back of the van and pulled out a suitcase.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSix years ago, when she’d arrived in Gandiegow, he wasn’t the only one toppled by the instant attraction between them. He knew she had felt it, too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe grabbed another bag.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis cousin Joe had brought her home to Gandiegow two weeks before their scheduled wedding. Brodie was taken with Rachel from the start, which was no surprise. He and Joe had always gone for the same type of lass. Funny, smart. Even as lads, they’d competed, and Joe had always won. Whenever Brodie found a girl, Joe would swoop in and steal her away. Brodie understood. Joe was a charmer with the gift of gab, and women couldn’t help falling under his spell.","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300652994789,"sku":"NP9780451476401","price":7.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780451476401.jpg?v=1767730236","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/it-happened-in-scotland-isbn-9780451476401","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}