by L. L. Muir
He gave her a wink. “Perhaps this is what turns them mean.”
She laughed and the clouds seemed to part. And if more light did not make it through the treetops to shine on their little idyll, it made no matter. He’d drawn the laugh from her. A victory he would cherish.
“Well, if I’d been Meredith…” She found a stick and began drawing in the mud at the burn’s edge. “Losing you to someone else would have made me mean, I guess.”
“Auch, aye. The lass was mean, no question. She took something very precious from me.”
“Your heart?”
“Nay. My right to love her. Nothing is quite so mean as to be forbidden to love.” He grimaced, embarrassed by the lass’s rapt attention. He had no choice but to go on. “Meredith stopped me from loving her. She smiled and walked away as if my love was as meaningless as the rain. The right—nay, the ability—to love someone is the freedom granted to all. But she deprived me that freedom. There are some things you cannot take from a man if he will not give them. But there are also things you cannot give a woman if she will not have them.
“In the beginning, yes. Meredith did take my love. But what she did with it, without trusting me, without giving me a chance to challenge whatever her sister might have said, was mean indeed.” He bent and plucked up a wide pink flower. “She took my love and let it fall from her fingers, to shatter like the petals of a crushed rose as she walked away. And they fluttered in her wake and fell dead and lifeless on the ground.” He did the same with the pink blossoms. “So, when they turn their backs on ye—if they know they hurt you, and they take joy in the hurting—your love dies quickly like a fish denied the ocean. A few surprised gasps, an accepting, and it’s over.”
A sharp clap drew their attention to the top of the ravine. Then another followed, and he realized it was the sound of car doors closing.
Chelsea paled and started to stand, but he waved her back down.
“Stay where you are. Let me see who it is.”
She was already shaking, and he realized she truly was not prepared to come face to face with Saint Austin as yet.
The fishing pole was forgotten and he hurried up the path and around the house. He saw the front of the car first. Someone had pulled all the way up the drive to park at the top. It wasn’t the blue vehicle of the proprietor, but a new red SUV. Since he’d heard the slam of two doors, he prepared himself to face both Austin and the dastardly one, possibly more.
But there was no one about. No one waiting on the steps. The door, however, stood wide when he remembered closing it behind them when he and Chelsea had come outside.
He hurried up the steps as quietly as he could. But it was imperative that he get his hand on the lance before he was noticed. The screen door opened silently. His weight caused no squeak of the floor. He turned and reached above his head, but the weapon was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chelsea heard the surprised, high pitch of a woman and jumped to her feet. Suddenly, all her nervousness about facing Austin was gone. If he’d brought Emily along for a front row seat to their confrontation, Chelsea was going to toss her out on her ear. And if that wasn’t ladylike enough for Austin, she knew a big handsome Scot who would probably appreciate her combat talents!
At least he would…for another day.
It didn’t matter. Alexander was there now, and with him at her back, there was no need to sit and quake in the shrubs and wait for the visitors to leave again. She could handle just about anything.
The red car was a surprise only because it was parked so close to the house. Voices, including Alexander’s, came from inside.
“It looks like a giant pencil,” said a woman from the kitchen, so Chelsea headed in there. Her hands were on her hips before she rounded the corner.
“Aye. A pencil. Now, if ye doona mind, I’d like my pencil back.” Alexander stood with one hand outstretched.
A woman around 50 years old sat on top of the table with her legs crossed, smoking a cigarette, and talking out the other side of her mouth. “Why do ye need a giant pencil?”
Alexander let out a pent up breath. “It’s nay a pencil, ye daft woman. It’s a spear.”
The woman snorted smoke out of her nose, then choked. Another woman who looked just like the first one came around the corner from the dining room. “You’re not supposed to be smoking in here, Lorraine. Wickham will have to pay a fine if you do.”
“Who’s Wickham?” Chelsea demanded. She was upset because Alexander was upset. But she also thought it would be a good idea to keep up a bold front in case these two thought the rental house was theirs for the day. With only a day left before that internal clock ran out, she wasn’t going to let two strangers push them around.
“You must be Chelsea,” said the one on the table, her cigarette wagging. Her sister reached up and plucked the thing out of her lips, walked it over to the garbage can, lifted the lid and chucked it in.
“Who’s Wickham?” she asked again, ignoring the fact that they knew her name. Alexander could have told them.
“Our brother,” answered the one while she washed her fingers in the sink. Her sister, on the table, was still giving her the stink-eye. “He rented this place for Alexander, here. Soncerae is our niece. He’s told you about her, hasn’t he?”
“I only have one cigarette a year,” said Loretta. “And since you didn’t let me finish it, that one doesn’t count.”
Loretta rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “Ignore her.”
“Aye. I told her about Soncerae. Now, may I have my pencil—I mean to say, my spear!”
The one called Lorraine shrugged and tossed it to him, which was surprising considering how heavy the branch was.
“I’m very sorry we’re late,” said the sister.
“Late?” Chelsea said it in unison with Alexander.
“Yes. We were supposed to be here yesterday, but we got lost.”
“Yesterday?” He frowned. “Why?”
Loretta laughed. “Chaperones, of course.”
Alexander smiled and nodded, but his lips were slightly pinched as he came toward her, took hold of her forearm, and led her back outside. They strolled around to the back of the SUV where he spun around to face her. “I have no ken what they are about. I ken only that a man named Muir paid for my lodging here. They said it is this same Wickham. And the name Soncerae is not a common one, aye? So they must ken the witch.”
“Did you tell them my name?”
He leaned close and whispered. “I did not.” He shook his head in frustration. “Ye’re certain they were not members of yer wedding party? Perhaps it is a cruel jest orchestrated by that Rick fellow.”
She laughed. “No. They’re not Austin’s family. And Rick certainly wouldn’t have known about Soncerae. But it is kind of funny that Soncerae sent chaperones, right?”
One of his brows lifted. “Aye? You think so? And where do you suppose everyone will sleep this night? And how much privacy will we find to… To discuss how to get you back together with Austin?”
She was pretty sure that whatever privacy he had worried about didn’t involve Austin at all, but he was too embarrassed to admit it. He was obviously still caught up on that “kissing another man’s woman” idea, which only made him sweeter. But she was still in denial about belonging to anyone, no matter how their conversation had ended the night before. And if the man decided to kiss her, she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to stop him.
But those women might…
“I see what you mean.” Her gaze caught on his bottom lip and couldn’t seem to move on to his eyes.
His tongue came out and swept moisture across it. “Do ye now?”
She lifted her chin without thinking, and his mouth quickly found hers. The kiss was as frantic as she felt. Crushing and desperate, like they were saying goodbye.
“Hoohoo!” The woman’s voice came from the porch. “Alexander?”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, then hollered, “Aye?
”
“Are ye going to bring that fish in for lunch, dear? Or do ye plan to leave it thrashing on the line?”
Chelsea frowned up at him. “How can she know there’s a fish on the line?”
He shuddered and shook his head. “I’m afeared to ask.” After squeezing her hands briefly, he walked around her and headed back to the fairy glen. She quickly followed.
“Chelsea, dear?”
The woman smiled innocently, leaning back against the open screen. “If you’d like to come back inside, we’ve got some clothes for you.”
She nodded and gave up on following Alexander. But as much as she wanted to get dressed in real clothes again, she couldn’t help suspecting that the sisters planned to take their chaperoning duties very seriously.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alexander would have preferred to eat his meal out of doors, but the sisters wouldn’t hear of it. They’d gone to a lot of fuss, they’d said. So the four of them sat down together. With a sister to each side of him, he waited for Chelsea to reappear. The last he’d seen her was when they’d exchanged a hurried embrace behind the SUV.
“Chelsea, dear! Are you coming?”
The lass’s head appeared around the corner with a scowl on her face. The bright pink on her shoulder proved she’d found clothing. Had Austin brought it to her? Or that other bastard?
Alexander shot to his feet. “Is something the matter?” He looked over her shoulder while he reached into his sock for his skean dhu, but left it put when the lass held up a hand and shook her head.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she grumbled, then stepped away from the wall. She was covered from shoulder to foot in the same thick fuzzy cloth that covered the sisters. But where the other women wore blue, Chelsea was ensconced in the pink. She had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows but there was no question, the clothes had come from their unwelcome chaperones.
“A…leisure suit, is it?” He tried not to grin too broadly. It wasn’t that the clothes were less than flattering—which they were—it was that Chelsea seemed so unhappy to be wearing them. Of course, he’d prefer she wear nothing but her shift, but no one would hear that thought leave his head.
The woman to his right gave him a sharp scowl. Loretta, if he remembered aright.
“Pardon?” he said to her.
She shook her head at him, then turned a smile on the lass. “The pink suits you.”
When the second sister started inquiring about underwear, Alexander shot to his feet. “I must check the perimeter.”
“No. You mustn’t,” Loretta said firmly. “Would you waste what time ye have?”
He relented and walked about the table to hold the chair for the lass. She leaned back against his hands as he reluctantly pulled them away. He had to force himself to return to his seat. But the women were watching them closely, even while they chatted about things he had no attention for. His ears were finely tuned to every word that fell from Chelsea’s lips, however.
“Really? A tea shop?”
Loretta mumbled something about Edinburgh and Cockburn Street.
“I’ve never been a fan of tea.”
That explained why she hadn’t partaken of the tea he served with breakfast.
“I’m a waitress. Or at least I was a waitress, until Austin insisted that I stop working. It was a scary part of town, actually. So it was probably for the best. I don’t know what I’ll do when I get back.” She suddenly locked eyes with him and the rest of the world slipped away.
Her expression said everything he was thinking himself. Why can’t we talk privately? When will they leave. We have no time to waste!
Someone tapped his arm. Lorraine. She was saying something.
“Pardon?”
“I said, it’s a fine fish you caught.”
Chelsea looked down at the platter and frowned, then looked up at him with raised brows. “You caught this?”
“Aye,” he beamed proudly.
“In that little stream?”
Her evident doubt took a bit of that pride away. “I must admit, it doesna seem likely.” After all, the fish was larger than the sole of his boot.
The lass swallowed uncomfortably, and he could only imagine what she must be thinking.
“And you two are related to Soncerae?”
“Yes, dear.” Loretta smiled sweetly and outright ignored what Chelsea implied.
“So,” she pointed a fork at him. “You know that he’s… Or he was…”
Loretta looked him over. “A ghost?” Then she nodded and turned back to her meal. “Yes, dear. We know. Our Soni can’t do everything on her own, now can she? With so many to chase after?”
Lorraine shook her head and took a sip of wine that painted her red even outside the confines of her lips. “She’s having a devil of a time with that MacGregor fellow. Of course, we knew she would but, well… We promised to step in and help the pair of you.”
“Help us to do what?” His instincts had him wrapping his left hand around his dining knife.
The woman shrugged and wrinkled her nose at her sister. “You know, just…help.”
Something wasn’t right about the women, but he couldn’t say why. Of course, they would have to be witches. After all, they were Muirs, and twins to boot. But there was something else at play that he didn’t understand. Were they there to make certain Chelsea went back to Austin? That she didn’t throw her future happiness away for a brief triste with a man who would only be mortal for a few hours more?
Loretta laid her hand over his and gave it a little squeeze. The look in her eye was all pity. So, she’d read his thoughts? And she was telling him what? That his suspicions were correct?
He was affronted by the idea, truly. What kind of man would he be to allow the lass to be deprived for the rest of her life due to his selfishness? And yet, each time he succumbed to the temptation to kiss her, he was luring her heart away from her true course.
He studied her while she listened to the older women. She was a kind lass to be sure. Quick to apologize when she’d said something insensitive. Quick to return his attentions, but also quick to excuse Austin-who-walks-on-water of all blame in the matter. But what kind of man would allow this lass to slip out of his grasp in the first place?
A fool, obviously.
And what kind of man was Alexander Fraser, to spend the day trying to woo another man’s woman when he would not be around a day from now to see to her care?
Begrudgingly, it seemed that he and Austin had much in common.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alexander checked the perimeter again.
Still solid. Still unforgiving. His destiny was still contained within its limits. He’d done all he could do. There was nothing left but the waiting. But it was cruel indeed to leave him wondering what he was waiting for.
He let his mind wander back to the moor and wee Rabby. What would the lad be thinking? Or would he be lying in his grave again, next to the dog, waiting for Soni to rouse him again? Alexander could only hope.
And the others? What were they making of Soni’s bargain? Would they be plotting for ways to resist her? Or would they be drawing lots and deciding who would be next.
No matter. Wee Rabby would be next and there was none that would challenge it. What happened after was none of his concern. He wouldn’t be present to see it.
All those years on the moor, he’d kept his imagination at bay, refusing to wonder what waited for him in the next life, afraid he would never have the chance to see for himself what God had in store. But since Soni built her great bonfire and summoned the strange ring of green light to protect her—from demons, no doubt—Alexander had allowed himself to finally wonder. To hope. To want.
Only what he wanted had naught to do with the afterlife.
Heaven help him.
~
One of the sisters caught Chelsea peeking out the bedroom window, watching Alexander stomping around the fairy glen.
“He’s a lovely thing to watch, isn�
�t he?”
Chelsea laughed. “Yes. He is. I can’t…help it.”
The woman patted her on the velour-covered shoulder. “I’m so sorry, dear. If we’d have come yesterday, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have become so attached.”
She turned and shrugged the hand away. She didn’t want anyone’s comfort. She just wanted more time. And she was feeling a little angry with the guy in the glen. It was like he was wasting time on purpose.
The woman’s smile was full of pity. “I’m sure it’s the right thing to do, to stay away from each other. After all, if you get to liking each other too much, you’ll suffer all the more when he is taken away.” Her patronizing smile dropped from her face when she took a good look at Chelsea. She patted the towel she had hanging over her arm. “I believe I’ll take a shower.” Then she hurried into the bathroom.
Stay away from each other? Who the hell were they to tell two adult strangers what to do? And for that matter, how dare Alexander avoid her? She was the one he needed to save, wasn’t she? His damsel in distress? He should stay close to her or he might screw up and miss his chance! Then where would he be?
The bathroom door opened abruptly. “Uh oh,” the woman said and hurried to the door to press her ear against it. Chelsea had just decided the twins needed psychiatric help when she heard a commotion from the living room.
“Get out of my way, woman!” It was Alexander’s booming voice. She would know it anywhere.
Lorraine stepped back from the door just before it flew open and she cowered at the sight of an enraged Highlander in all his glory. He glowered at her, then looked for Chelsea and pinned her to the spot. “Dinna move, lass.”
She nodded quickly and wrapped her arms around herself to keep from shivering to death. But inside, she was jumping up and down, cheering him on.
“You.” He glared at Lorraine again. “Gather your sister and your groceries and leave this place. I dinna care if God Himself sent ye. Ye have no place here.”
The woman swallowed and nodded. Then beamed at them both as she scooted around him and out the door. She didn’t act like her feelings were hurt. In fact, she looked a little pleased.
