Highlands Homecoming (A Highlands Christmas Romance #3)

Chapter 9

M elissa took Sydney up the decorative wooden staircase to the guest rooms. “I’m thinking we’ve got to get rid of the wallpaper,” Melissa began.

“Definitely,” said Sydney.

“Then we can brighten everything up. What people love is the woodwork, the charm. But we don’t need this dated carpeting. Now, as far as the furniture, here are my ideas: We keep the stuff that looks antique or classic. But what do you think of getting rid of all this art deco stuff?”

“What would we put in? Anything too modern will look out of place,” said Sydney.

“Exactly. So we go with minimalism,” began Melissa as she looked around the space. “Simple, classic wood. Dark cherry will be fine—anything too light will look out of place with the trim and all the woodwork in the hallways. We put in oversized, ultra-comfortable beds with amazingly soft sheets—maybe bamboo—and we go for a really minimalist design. White. Navy. Some plaid throw pillows and nice tartan throw blankets. A modern classic tartan chair in the corner. And then all the updated amenities for coffee, phone charging, streaming television, and really strong wifi.”

“That’s exactly it,” said Sydney, excited.

“And really sleek, modern-yet-classic bathrooms—maybe some nice blue and white tile.”

“I love it. Perfect. And you can keep the costs down?”

“Absolutely,” said Melissa. “I found a discount vendor for the basics, and I’ve been in touch with the gallery down the street. What about local artists’ work hanging on the walls?”

“Great idea! And maybe maps and photographs.”

“Stags, Highland cows, sheep, sights that people can see in the area.”

“Lovely,” said Sydney.

“This is so much fun. Thank you for having me. I’m so grateful for the opportunity,” said Melissa.

“We’re glad to have you. You’ll join us for the menu tasting this afternoon, won’t you?”

“I’d be honored,” said Melissa.

Lindsay’s father, Sandy, parked his car in front of the snowy sidewalk outside the MacAlister Inn just as Melissa was coming outside to feed the parking meter. A golden retriever on a long leash, walking ahead of a woman about Sandy’s age, walked past them.

Melissa took off her gloves to pet the dog.

“Hey there,” said Melissa. “What a good dog.”

“Oh! Wait! Stop!” said the woman as she caught up with them.

Melissa was surprised to see Margaret Douglas, the realtor who had helped her file the paperwork for her home.

“Margaret! Hello!” said Melissa.

Just then, the dog grabbed Melissa’s glove.

“Oh, I’m too late,” said Margaret, exasperated. “I’m so sorry.”

“What? There’s no trouble, and that’s a fine dog,” said Sandy.

“I would’ve warned you, but?—”

“But I’m fine. She didn’t bite,” said Melissa, showing her hands.

“She doesn’t bite, but she is a menace.”

Sandy was completely baffled.

“What in blazes is the problem?” he finally asked.

“The glove,” Margaret said. “I’m afraid once that dog has got someone’s glove, that’s the end.”

“Nonsense,” said Sandy, looking down at the dog’s innocent brown eyes and wagging tail.

“No, it’s true. She’s partial to gloves. I don’t understand why, but she takes them everywhere like a security blanket or a stuffed animal. I can’t get them away from her.”

“Aye ma auntie,” said Sandy.

“What?” inquired Melissa curiously.

Margaret's face lit up with a smile. “It's just another way of saying nonsense , but I can assure you that dog will not let go of that glove.”

Margaret reached for the glove, and the happy-go-lucky golden retriever suddenly growled. “See?” said Margaret.

“It’s like a two-year-old with a toy they won’t give back. You just trade them for something they’ll want more,” Melissa suggested. “Maybe a stick, or a bone?”

Margaret shook her head. “Tried it.”

“What about a treat?” Melissa asked.

“You’ll spoil the little devil,” said Margaret.

Sandy squatted down, meeting the dog's gaze. “You like that glove, huh?” he said with a chuckle.

The dog's tail wagged enthusiastically.

“That’s Melissa’s glove,” Sandy continued, holding the dog's gaze. “She'd like it back, please.”

The dog stared back, unblinking.

Sandy reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog treat. “May I?” he asked, glancing at Margaret.

Margaret sighed and shrugged, looking amused.

Sandy placed the treat on the sidewalk and waited. The dog quickly snatched up the treat, then, with surprising speed and skill, managed to get the glove back into her mouth.

Sandy laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe when we get to the car I can get it,” said Margaret.

Sandy handed the woman his business card.

“I mean no offense, but I’m an experienced dog trainer …” he began.

Margaret covered her mouth in embarrassment. “Digging myself deeper and deeper. How embarrassing!”

“Not at all. This dog can be trained with the best of ‘em. Seeing as it’s my friend Melissa’s glove, I’ll let the two of you handle that, but I’d be happy to help you with the training.”

She looked at the card. “Sandy MacGregor.”

He doffed his tweed hat and nodded. “And you might be …”

“Margaret. Margaret Douglas.”

“Lovely to meet you,” said Sandy.

Melissa immediately noticed the spark between them and tried to hide her smile.

“Why don’t you stop by my croft one afternoon this week … if you’re interested,” he added quickly.

“I’m very interested. I mean, my dog definitely needs training,” Margaret said, her rosy cheeks reddening.

“I’m sure she’ll take to it just fine. She’s got a lovely mum,” said Sandy.

As they stepped inside the inn, Sandy marveled at the spacious entryway and new carpets.

“Melissa, it’s grand. How you’ve been able to make so many changes in such a short time is just astonishing,” he said.

“Well, I just make the decisions. We’re fortunate to have found some excellent workers who painted, refinished, and hung curtains and decorations,” said Melissa.

“It’s stunning. What’s for dinner?” asked Sandy.

“Lindsay’s working on the menu, but I think she’s starting with some classics for a Burns Supper.”

“Wonderful.”

He pulled out a chair for Melissa, and she sat. Sydney came out and filled glasses with water and set out a plate of oatcakes and butter. “Can I start you with a drink?”

Melissa and Sandy nodded.

“Here’s the drinks menu. I think it’ll evolve into a Scotch, mixed drinks, and wine list. But for now …”

“No worries at all!” said Melissa. “We’re just honored to be among the first to try the menu. And I hope you and Elspeth will be joining us?”

“Elspeth is in Fort William shopping for the rooms upstairs,” said Sydney. “But I’ll join if you’ll have me?”

“Of course!”

Sydney sat down, and they munched on oatcakes.

“So, Mr. MacGregor, you’re Melissa’s …?”

“Oh, no. We’re no relation, although he’s like my adopted father. He’s Lindsay’s father,” said Melissa.

“And Colin’s,” added Sandy.

Lindsay brought out salads and set them down.

“We’ll start with a pomegranate and quinoa edamame salad with a light lemon-pomegranate vinaigrette.”

“That looks incredible,” said Melissa.

“Thank you,” said Lindsay. “And what can I bring you to drink? We have whisky, red and white wine, and the like, but I’d love for you to try some of our specialty mixed drinks.”

“Don’t tell me my brother, Angus, shared his top-secret recipes?” asked Sydney.

“Aye, your brother has a fantastic talent for mixology …” said Lindsay. “ … and secrets. So, these are my own inventions.”

“Grand. What are the choices?” asked Sydney.

“We have an Auld Fashioned—our spin on a classic bourbon Old Fashioned, but made with Scotch whisky, bitters, and sugar. We have a Talisker Negroni, with Talisker, Campari, and Antica Formula. And we have our Bobby Burns, which is Scotch whisky, sweet vermouth, and Benedictine.”

“Well, seeing as I need to know more about him, I’ll try the Bobby Burns,” said Melissa.

“I’ll stick with a Talisker Skye, neat,” said Sandy.

“I’ll try the Auld Fashioned,” said Sydney.

“Lovely,” said Lindsay, and she turned toward the bar.

“It’s strange to have a friend waiting on me. I feel like we’re playing restaurant,” said Melissa.

“Aye, she and Colin used to love to play restaurant as bairns,” said Sandy.

They ate their salads, and soon it was time for the mains.

“We have Balmoral chicken, which is chicken stuffed with haggis and wrapped in bacon; a roasted partridge with elderberry sauce; the Haggis supper with neeps and tatties; or venison with whisky sauce.”

“What if we had all four and shared?” asked Melissa.

“Yes, I had thought about a sampler plate, since it’s a tasting event. What do you think, Sydney?” replied Lindsay

“Absolutely! Let’s do that with the dessert round as well,” Sydney said.

They sipped their drinks and watched the sun set over the river. It was a beautiful evening. “It almost feels like spring,” said Melissa.

“Aye. Almost is the keyword there. We’re nay out of the woods yet,” said Sandy.

“When does spring arrive?”

“According to the Irish, Imbolc is the first day of spring. That’s the 1st of February. But around here, I’d say don’t put away your parka until at least April,” said Sandy.

“Maybe even May,” said Sydney.

“That’s like Boston. We can have a sixty or seventy degree day in January, then get six inches of snow a few days later,” said Melissa.

Soon Lindsay served the meal and sat down at the table with them to enjoy it, just as Drew breezed into the room.

“How’s my favorite chef?” asked Drew as he greeted Lindsay with a friendly peck on the cheek.

“You’re lucky I’m the chef so I can reheat your dinner!” said Lindsay.

“You sit. I’ll reheat,” said Drew.

“You lovebirds should both sit. I’m capable of running a microwave if Lindsay isn’t offended,” said Melissa.

Lindsay pretended to look appalled but then nodded. “Thanks, Mel.”

“Drew, nice to see you,” said Sandy. “My daughter has made an amazing meal.”

Drew slid into a chair next to Lindsay. “Looks delicious.”

“Thank you,” said Lindsay, passing him oat cakes and salad. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll stick with water because I need to drive back to Drumnadrochit tonight,” said Drew.

“Really? Can’t you stay?” Lindsay asked.

He put his arm around Lindsay. “I suppose I could stick around till morning.”

Melissa got Drew a plate of food, and they shared laughs and lighthearted banter. As the evening wore on, it became clear to everyone that the new MacAlister Inn was destined for success.

Burns Night couldn’t come soon enough. Melissa needed to keep her mind off of all the issues with Dave, and her worries about Colin, and her home, and … she needed to keep busy.

At the inn, the painters were finishing, the woodwork was done, and the HVAC was in. So she surrounded herself with samples of upholstery, curtains, and bedding. The last touches were more local art for the upstairs guest rooms.

Melissa wandered through the galleries in Inverness. There were watercolors of Highland landscapes, oil paintings of the battle of Culloden, Mary Queen of Scots, Highland Coos, sheep, Inverness Castle, photographs of the Fairy Pools, Fairy Glen, the Old Man of Storr, puffins … She finally plunked down her company credit card and bought them all. It felt good to support artists and, in turn, encourage more tourism. Not that Scotland didn’t have tourists. In the summer they’d be overrun, Drew had assured her. But it seemed like a good way to help the local economy. Seeing these sights in the winter was a whole different experience, and Melissa wondered if there was a way to encourage tourism during the colder months. And that led her back to Burns Night—a unique holiday that many foreigners hadn’t even heard of. She’d make it spectacular.

Excited, she returned to the inn and began unloading frames and tartan pillows and little stuffed Highland Coos and sheep. She hauled several loads up the stairs before Sydney found her and insisted on helping. Soon everything was upstairs, and Melissa was humming to herself as she hung paintings, placed pillows on chairs, and laid soft mohair blankets in each of the rooms. She looked around and decided she should consider looking for some antique mirrors to go in some rooms—maybe a collection of hand mirrors hung on the walls. She also thought about adding some vintage books on travel or by Scottish authors, maybe on a desk in each room or next to the fireplace.