A Scone of Contention by Lucy Burdette

Author:Lucy Burdette
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

Chapter Sixteen

It wasn’t very nice of me, but I hoped the pickles gave him heartburn.

—Jenn McKinlay, Buried to the Brim

I hurried back toward town, hoping I hadn’t missed the parade highlights. As I got closer, the crowds grew bigger on the sidewalks, and I had to weave through the villagers to make my way to my friends and family.

A traditional bagpipe band led the parade, consisting of about twenty pipers and half that many drummers behind them. They set off down Main Street, playing “Scotland the Brave.” The crowd around me was clapping and cheering, and several of them began dancing a jig, dipping and whirling, with joyful faces. Behind the bagpipers trailed the women I had seen earlier in the day, with sashes across their chest—town officials maybe? Children dressed in red sweat suits followed them, who I guessed belonged to a sports team of some kind. A breeze had come up, causing the white and red pendants strung across the street to flap. And the sky overhead roiled with big white and gray clouds. When had I experienced any scene quite so beautiful? I wished Nathan could have been here to share it with me.

As the musicians moved on to the melancholy notes of “The Skye Boat Song,” I spotted my group gathered in front of the café.

“I hoped you weren’t going to miss this!” cried Miss Gloria. “Isn’t it the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen? Can you imagine a more festive way to welcome summer?”

I gave her a quick hug. “I love it. I’m speechless.”

Helen grabbed my hand firmly and drew me a yard away from the others. “How was your afternoon?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said, feeling surprised and slightly ambushed. “I did some work, though not nearly enough. I need to rough out my thoughts about lunch, so I don’t get it mixed up with dinner. If the meals start piling up, I won’t remember what details go with what. And I still have the scone and cock-a-leekie soup recipes to write up.” I grinned, suddenly aware that I was talking too fast—and all about food, which I knew didn’t interest her that much—and generally acting guilty. “And then I walked to the end of Main Street to stretch my legs.”

She shot me a look of stony disbelief that reminded me completely of Nathan. “I know you know something is going on here”—she tipped her head toward Vera—“and I know you well enough to know you aren’t just letting it go.”

I could tell a small stretcher from time to time as needed, but I couldn’t flat-out lie to my mother-in-law. I beckoned her to move a little farther away from the others, and explained about the article I’d come across about Joseph Booth and how, in utter synchronicity, his mother and aunt lived right here in Peebles. “I know we’re busy this evening and leaving in the morning, so this seemed the only chance to talk with them. They are just adorable—two sisters who look like peas in a pod.

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