As the flames licked up the sides of the smaller pieces of wood, his mind slipped to the past…
MEMORY
Greystone Castle, Loch Morar
“Och, Gavin, pay attention,” his father reprimanded. “Ye will have ta learn how ta tend the fire when I am gone.”
“Aye, father.” Gavin stood up and crossed the room, leaving his imaginary battle behind and crouched down beside his father. He was a large man, with dark hair that hung a good ways down his back that he usually kept tethered with a strip of leather. “Ye will no want ta use the larger pieces of wood first.”
“Will it no burn faster that way?”
“Nay. It needs ta be treated like ye will treat a woman someday. Ye need ta take it slow, build the fire up well and good, and then give it a go with one of the larger pieces of wood.” He lifted his brows up and down with a glint of mischief in his blue-green eyes.
“Och, Nathanial, stop teaching our son such things. He is too young ta understand what ye are speaking of,” his mother scolded.
His father laughed. It was a loud boisterous sound. “See that ye take it slow. The fire ye get as a result will be worth the time ye put in.” His father winked at him and ruffled his hair.
CHAPTER FORTY
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
Past-The Cottage - Greystone Lands
“Gavin…”
The sound of his name brought his mind back from one of the last pleasant memories he had of his family. “Aye, lass, what is it?”
“The food is ready.”
“What are we eating?” He stood up.
“Well, I didn’t have much time, but I made a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And I have some chips.”
“The ones I like?” His eyes brightened.
“Yes, the ones with the barbeque that you like.”
“Aye. I’ll have two.”
I knew that meant he wanted two handfuls of chips as well as two sandwiches.
Once we were back outside, I laid down a napkin on each side of the blanket along with two bottles of water.
“That looks like a mighty fine meal,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the little blanket.
“Yeah, right.” I laughed. “It will do for now.”
“Aye,” he agreed, smiling a little. “It will do for now.”
♦
Later that night, Gavin lay awake with his lass snuggled as close as possible at his side, as he stared up at the sky through one of the many holes in the ceiling, wondering what he was going to do.
It would have been a lot simpler if he had come back by himself, and even more so, if Broderick the wretched blackguard wasn’t still residing within the walls of his home. But there was nothing to be done about that now. He hoped he could find another way to get the treasure from the monster of Loch Morar, and in doing so, fulfill the promise he made. The problem was, as with most things he had been pondering on of late, he didn’t have a bloody idea how ta make any of that happen. Giving up on finding the answer for now, he closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.
♦
“What do you mean you are leaving me here?” I gaped at him, not believing we were even having this conversation. The sun, if it was even up, which I doubted, was blocked out by a deluge of gray ominous clouds.
“I already told ye, it will no be safe for ye ta come with me ta the castle,” Gavin argued his point.
“How the hell is it safe for you to go to the castle? You said yourself just last night that Broderick was still there with those men that tried to kill you. Or did you somehow forget about that?”
“Och, lass.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and then dropped them back to his sides. “What do ye want from me?”
“I want you to stay with me until we can figure out what to do. That’s what I want.”
“Ye ask too much. I can no keep hiding. The food ye brought with ye will no last for more than a few days and then what will we do?”
“We will look for food now and deal with the rest when the time comes.”
“Lass, I have ta go and see what we are up against.”
“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “But you will be taking me with you.”
“Lass, it’s no safe.”
“I don’t care,” I argued a losing battle.
“I will no be gone long. I am just scouting out the area ta see what we are up against.”
“And what happens to me if you get caught?”
“I will no get caught,” he assured.
“Right, “ I scoffed. “ Like you didn’t get caught before?”
Gavin’s jaw tensed. “Now it tis my fault?”
“No. I know it’s not your fault.”
“Then what will ye have me do? Just wait for them ta come for us?”
“You said yourself that they don’t know we are here.”
“Aye, for now. But eventually they will find us.”
“How would he even know to look for us. As far as Broderick is concerned we slipped through the mist.”
Gavin knew she had a point but he wanted to get this business over, sooner, rather than later. “I will wait until night fall and have a look then, if that makes ye feel better.”
“All right. But I am going with you.”
“Lass, I said no.” He gave her a stern look, thinking ta put an end ta the conversation once and for all.
“Gavin,” I mimicked his tone. “And I said, yes.”
“Och!” He threw up his hands in the air and stormed out the front door. “Stubborn woman,” he muttered on his way out.
“Where are you going?” I chased after him out the door.
“Ta get some wood.” And with that, he turned on his heel and strode away into the woods.
“Ta get some wood,” I muttered. Turning around, I made my way back into the cottage to change into something else to wear. I just hoped I brought that something with me.
As I dug in my bag, I grumbled some more, “Lass, ye can no come with me.” Frankly, I was getting a little sick of his attitude. Well, I had news for him. I was going with him when he got back whether he liked it or not. I found my plaid skirt and pulled it out of the bag along with a pair of leggings. I quickly undressed and pulled on both. Once I was finished, I shoved my jeans back in the bag. Now all I had to do was figure out how I was going to get Gavin to bring me with him.
♦
It was another cold dreary day in Scotland and the gray skies above threatened to pour out buckets of rain at any given moment. Tucking my head back in the door, I looked around for something to occupy myself until Gavin got back. The cottage wasn’t too dirty. I did some quick dusting and straightening up, but unfortunately the stink, although tolerable now, still didn’t dissipate.
Walking outside, I sat down onto the small blanket we had used the night before to eat off of. I wished I at least had a book to read. Instead, I was stuck with only my thoughts for company. “Could of. Would of. Should of,” I grumbled.
That was the story of my life.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past -Greystone Lands
Gavin’s muscled body moved quickly as he sprinted over clumps of grass and rocks, making his way back to Greystone—his home. He lied to his lass, telling her he was off to get wood for the fire, which, he amended, wasn’t a complete fabrication. He had every intention of getting the wood but only after he scouted out the perimeters of the castle again. A fire was burning in his belly from seeing with his own eyes, that blackguard, Broderick, on the battlements of his home acting as though it was his own. Not for long. Ducking down, he made his way to the crest of the hill, hiding from view in the tall grass.
While he waited for nightfall, he couldn’t help but wonder if he were ta go see Shamus if he would help him regain his home from the likes of Broderick but after he thought on it a wee bit longer, he came to the realization that Shamus would have no cause ta put his life on the line for Gavin, nor would he want him
to.
Mayhap if Morgan was still with him he would have a chance. His father’s second in Command was a warrior. He could split a skull in two with one hand while gutting a whoreson with the other and still not break a sweat.
A wan smile crossed his face at the remembrance.
Aye, he missed Morgan.
Of its own accord his mind strayed to Alec, Graham, Callum and Muir—he knew if he were ta somehow get word to them that they would help him—but ta what end? What if something happened to them? He couldn’t bear losing anymore of his men.
No.
He couldn’t do that. He would just have ta do it himself—he just wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish that no small feat himself—yet.
Gavin knew his lands and home like the back of his hand. He also knew the Greystone had many places to sneak into that only he and Morgan knew about. He would have to use one of those passageways to get inside the keep after dark because he couldn’t risk doing it while it was still light; he would surely be discovered. And then everything he sought to accomplish by coming back ta the past would be in vain.
Having his lass here made doing this more difficult. He didn’t know what would happen to her, especially if something happened to him. He would have to keep his wits about him or else they both may end up paying the ultimate price. And that was something he wasn’t willing to risk at this juncture—so he waited.
A cool breeze blew blades of grass over on its side as a lone raven soared heavenward. He watched it for a moment—wondering if it was some kind of sign.
It was quiet—too quiet. Readjusting his position, he hunkered down, looking for anything out of the ordinary surrounding the castle.
What bothered him most was how Broderick got to the men, the ones he had killed. And who were the men that did the foul deed?
They were most likely mercenaries, he thought—but how did he get the coin ta pay them? It occurred to Gavin that either Broderick made some kind of deal with the King— or he made a bargain with the witch in hopes of getting the treasure for himself. But how could he do that when the witch had told Gavin that only a true descendant of Greystone could retrieve the gold?
Unfortunately, in all the thinking and pondering that Gavin was doing, he never once considered a rather simple fact…he was not the only living descendant of Greystone… Callum was also a Grey.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past-Greystone Dungeon
Callum coughed and another mouthful of blood splattered down on the filth-ridden stones under his feet.
“Och, Callum, are ye still alive?” Muir asked quietly so as not to alert the guards from the cell he was locked inside.
“Aye, Muir, I am. Mayhap for not much longer if I keep losing all me blood.”
Muir pulled at his restraints to no avail. The metal reverberated on the stones and sent jarring ripples down his arms. At least he could still feel them, so that was something, he supposed. Giving up, he took out his frustration on Callum. “If ye would have stayed put, like Alec and Graham instructed until they got back, we would no be in this mess.”
“I did no tell ye ta come with me,” Callum wheezed.
“How could I not? Ye are like a sister ta me.”
Callum would have laughed but it hurt too bad. He was sure some of his ribs were broke.
“Hold on, Callum,” Muir said worriedly when his friend didn’t respond to his barb. Straining his eyes, he tried to see through the gloom. “Our laird will come back for us. I am sure of it.”
“I hope ye are right, Muir.” Callum shut his eyes against the pain and let the darkness take hold once more.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past-Cottage-Greystone Lands
I had to go back inside the stink pit, because it had started to rain. I kept the door open and stomped around the cabin, venting my anger and frustration at Gavin’s earlier desertion. Men were such nincompoops. I could have helped him too.
Fine.
Maybe I wouldn’t have been that much help but at least I wouldn’t be worried sick, like I was now. “Dangit!” I stomped down and my foot kept going as part of the floor broke away.
“Ohhhh Shiiiit!” Arms flailing, I grabbed hold of the table to stop from falling into the big hole that now resided in the middle of the floor.
Carefully, I braced most of my weight on the table and pulled my foot back up.
On the off chance the rest of the floor was going to give way, I shakily maneuvered around the table to the other side.
“That was close,” I said, panting with exertion. “Too damn close.” Heart pounding, I leaned forward to see what damage I had done.
There was a good-sized hole in the floor and that wouldn’t have normally bothered me too much…well… besides almost falling into it.
A stream of cold air blew upward, lifting my hair.
“What the hell is that?”
Turns out it wasn’t a thing, but rather, a who, or on second look, it was more than one who. And those who’s, had apparently been dead for some time since most of the skin was now gone and more bone was left in its place.
“EEK!” I covered my eyes and peeked out from between my fingers. Like that would help vanquish the disgusting sight that was now ingrained in my mind for probably the rest of my life.
A putrid, nasty odor filled the air. Much worse than before, an accompaniment of sorts to the grossness in front of me now. Using my shirt, I covered my mouth and nose. It wasn’t easy since I still kept hold of the table in a death grip comparable to Gavin’s on my dash while he was riding in my car. My knuckles were even turning white.
“Why me?” I squeezed my eyes shut but that didn’t help my predicament at the moment, in the least.
“Deep breaths…” I tried the yoga approach. That lasted all of one breath—I nearly asphyxiated myself inside my shirt.
Coughing, I jerked my nose out and immediately gagged. “God…why me?”
Hot tears sprang to my eyes and clouded my vision. I didn’t know why I was asking him that—I knew the reason. And it was my own fault. Had I not been stomping around the cabin like a lunatic, my damn foot wouldn’t have broken through the floorboards and more importantly, I wouldn’t be seeing the remnants of corpses because of it.
“Get a grip, Paige.” Fine. I already had a pretty tight grip on the table but my words were meant to be less literal and more metaphorical.
I tried not to look in the hole, but it was hard since it was blocking my way out. The cabin or cottage, I didn’t care which, was on the small side, anyway. One of the chairs was pushed away from the table where Gavin had been sitting earlier. Seeing it there made me mad all over again, that Gavin had left. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Yep. Guilty as charged. I was going all in on the blame game. I was a master at it, really. I played this game many times before and had pretty much learned to tank it in my favor whenever life served up steaming piles of crap instead of what I wanted from life.
Lifting my foot, I tried to hook it around the leg to pull it closer for some kind of support. Of course, I wasn’t thinking clearly at the moment. It wasn’t like a game of musical chairs. Once I was on the chair, what would stop me, and the chair, from falling into the damn hole. It reminded me of one of the sinkholes I had seen on the news, once, back home. An entire house fell right into one, taking the occupants of the house with it. My body shuddered from the grim recollection.
It took three tries before I was able to drag the chair a bit closer. Holding my breath, I made a light leap for it. I grabbed hold of the chair—, which was nothing short of a miracle, since I was not athletic in the least. Then I quickly realized holding my breath wasn’t a conducive way to get from one place to another. I swayed from lack of air and almost fell into the hole, anyway. Again, I wasn’t thinking clearly. It may have had something to do with the God-awful stink coming from the hole, or the simple fact that the hole was t
here in the first place. It didn’t make any reasonable sense, but it was there, just the same, right in front of me.
This time, when I made a jump for the only part of the floor that looked like it wasn’t going to cave in, I didn’t hold my breath. The momentum of said jump carried me all the way to the fireplace. I gripped hold of the mantel, standing on my tiptoes, hoping like hell the rest of the place didn’t cave in on me in the process. There were three holes in the ceiling. I didn’t mind them the night before because Gavin was here, but now that I was alone, I gave them a look of disdain. Not to mention the giant black buzzard that had taken up residence in one and was looking at me like I was something it might want to peck on for a snack. Another buzzard flew up on the roof and stuck its head in one of the holes.
“Shoo!” I waved my hands to make them fly away—I lost my footing and fell backward off the edge of the hearth.
“OH, MY GOD!” Frozen, I waited for the Exorcist cabin with corpses under the floorboards to swallow me alive …but nothing happened.
“It’s good. I’m good.” I tried the deep breath thing again and nearly threw up. Coughing, I jerked my shirt back over my face and gingerly, albeit quickly, tiptoed my way to the door. Once I was there, I bolted through in a dead run outside and right into a hard-unyielding object.
A bright flash of white stole my sight and I promptly passed out.
♦
The longer Gavin stayed hidden, the more unsettled he became. He had a terrible feeling something was about to happen and that something, he was sure, was nothing good. He had the same feeling the day he awoke to find his men dead and it was the same feeling he had when his father died and the day his mother died before that.
Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two Page 15
