Read Online The Accidental Scot by Patience Griffin - Free Book Online

to rouse the Yank from his bed. “Does MTech want to do businesswith North Sea Valve or not?” She knocked on Max’s door.
    No answer. She peered down the hallway at the loo, where the door stood wide. “Where is that skiver?” She knocked again, and heard a groan.

Chapter Four
    P ippa cracked the door open and saw Max twisted in his blankets with his arm over his eyes. He groaned again.
    â€œAre you ill?”
Stupid question.
Of course, he was sick. Hesitating only a moment, Pippa crossed the threshold, walked to his bed, and laid a hand on Max’s forehead, like Freda had done to her when she was a little girl. “You’re burning up.”
    He didn’t open his eyes. “I feel bad. . . .”
    â€œI know. Your fever’s high.”
    â€œNo,” he croaked. “That I might’ve infected your father last night. I didn’t know I was sick. It came on suddenly.”
    â€œOch. Good grief. You mustn’t torment yereself.” Did Max have the Highland flu? Regardless, she needed to bring his fever down.
    â€œBut,” he argued, “I could’ve made things worse for him.”
    Max was a decent man to worry about her father, especially with the Yank as sick as can be.
    She straightened his covers. “It’s Da’s bones that are the problem. They aren’t healing as they should. Other than that, his constitution is as strong as a Caledonian ox.”
    â€œGood.” Max sighed and rolled over.
    â€œListen, Yank. I think you have the Highland flu. Fine one minute, on your back the next.”
    â€œLucky me.” He tried to smile but failed.
    She grabbed an extra quilt from the cupboard and laid it over him. “I’m going to run to Bethia’s to get some medicine. You stay in bed.”
    He gave a derisive laugh. “Like I could go anywhere.”
    As Pippa rushed down the stairs and out the door, she rang up the factory. “Bonnie, I’ll be late this morning.” She thought about Max’s pallid coloring and high fever. “Scratch that. Let everyone know I’m out today. If necessary, I can be reached by mobile.”
    It took her only a few minutes to arrive at Bethia’s, get the herbal tincture, and run back to the pub with the covered goblet. She didn’t bother to knock this time.
    â€œMax?” She gently shook him awake. “I’ve something for you to drink.” She held it close to his mouth.
    â€œGod, no. It smells awful. And I shouldn’t be able to smell a thing.”
    â€œIt’s Bethia’s version of Tamiflu.” Pippa eased the goblet closer. “It really works.”
    He shied away from it. “Shouldn’t I take real Tamiflu? Don’t you have a doctor in town?”
    â€œAye, I told ye we did. But Doc MacGregor is still in Edinburgh with his da.”
    â€œLet me lie here and die quietly then,” Max moaned.
    Pippa gently brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Don’t be such a baby. I promise ye’ll feel better in the morn. Now drink up.”
    â€œYou first,” he said.
    She pinched her nose and pretended to take a sip. “Yummy. Yere turn.”
    She helped Max sit up. He took the goblet and drank it all, only sputtering twice.
    â€œThere.” She adjusted his pillow and blankets, settling him as comfortably as she could, considering how lousy the Highland flu can make a body feel.
    A few moments after Max lay back down, the furrow between his eyebrows relaxed and he fell into a deep sleep.
    The Highland flu had been all but eradicated from these parts by an annual shot. Everyone here took it very seriously. Pippa’s own mother had died from the Highland flu the week after Pippa was born, her immune system zapped during the long labor.
    Pippa picked up Max’s room—his jeans, the god-awful sweater from last night, and a polo. She had no idea what possessed her, but she held his shirt close