Free To Scotland With Love by Patience Griffin

dead.
    Graham leaned over and kissed Precious. “Goodbye, girl.” His voice cracked, and he pulled in a couple of deep breaths.
    A familiar smell reached Cait’s nose. The smell of Death.
    Graham swiped away a tear. Cait handed him a tissue.
    For a long time, they sat on the floor next to Precious’s body, both of them silent. Both of them tangled in their own thoughts.
    Cait had been alone with Mama when she died. Her father was at work, and the nurse had gone to the kitchen. Cait was sitting next to Mama’s bed, working on a quilt block for her while she slept. Without warning,Mama gasped and jerked. She didn’t open her eyes; she didn’t say goodbye. Death, the bastard, had strolled into the room and snatched Mama right from under Cait’s nose.
    Cait looked over at Graham. He wasn’t shaking Precious’s dead body, screaming for help, or looking as if the walls were closing in on him. He appeared at peace.
    He patted Cait’s shoulder, then rose. From the sofa, he removed the lap-sized Jacob’s Ladder quilt and carefully spread it on the floor. He picked up Precious, who’d started to stiffen, held her close, and then laid her body in the center of the quilt. He wrapped her up gently, lifted her, then carefully rose to his feet.
    Still in unchartered waters, Cait followed him up the stairs and into his room—a funeral procession. He put Precious on his bed and laid his hand on her once again. Maybe to make sure she was really gone.
    â€œShe was a good dog.” His voice was thick and jagged. “I’ll take her to Doc when the office opens and have her cremated.” He paused a moment longer over the Jacob’s-Ladder-quilt bundle.
    Cait leaned against the doorjamb, not knowing what to do now. Go? Stay? Death was a lonely business, but grief was damned awkward. Surely, Graham would want to be alone, lick his wounds in private.
    He trapped her with four little words. “I’m glad you’re here.”
    God, what could she do now?
“Me, too,” she finally answered.
    He switched off the light and closed the door. She followed him downstairs to the parlor. For several minutes, he stood over Precious’s bed, looking at it as if it were a hollow casket. Once again, she didn’t know what to do.How was she supposed to ease his grief? No one sure as hell had ever done it for her. Out of sheer desperation, she wrapped her arms around him, hoping to console.
    They stood for a long time like that, holding each other. Finally, they went to the sofa and stretched out together, lying quietly, not speaking. After a while, they both fell asleep.
    Cait woke suddenly with Deydie standing over her with her hands on her hips.
    â€œAnd here ye are again, Caitie Macleod. Do you not care about yere reputation and yere virtue? Ye’re as loose as a kindergartener’s front tooth. Why aren’t ye in yere own bed? Ye do have one, don’t ye?”
    Cait nodded.
    â€œThen use it,” Deydie commanded. “Have you seen that damned dog? I’ve looked everywhere for her.”
    Graham gave Cait a sad, knowing look. He got up and went to Deydie, placing his hands on her shoulders. “We’ve some bad news. You’d better sit down.”
    â€œWhat are ye yabbering about? If you mean to tell me you’ve had yere way with my granddaughter and she might be in the family way, I’ve no need to sit.”
    â€œIt’s about Precious.” Cait tried not to chew on her lower lip.
    Deydie squinted hard at Cait, her mouth riveted shut in an iron frown.
    Graham gently squeezed Deydie’s shoulders. “Precious passed away in the night.”
    Deydie’s face contorted as if squished between a young child’s hands. She pushed away from Graham. “I don’t believe ye. Precious? Precious?” she called out.
    He looked helpless. “She’s gone. I laid her upstairs on my bed.”
    Her gran bustled away