Moodie

by L. L. Muir

  He tried a different tack, a bit of everyday conversation. “I noticed the uniform, Colin. Ye joined the Loyalists, then?”

  Colin’s chin lowered and he examined his own clothes. “Aye. There was naught left of the Jacobites, so I joined the British army. Served under Lord Dunmore, John Murray’s son, if ye can believe it. Me, taking orders from Bonnie Prince Charlie’s page.

  “After Culloden, I took my parents—” He peered closer at Ethan’s face and smiled. “Our parents, then. I moved them to the south of England where father’s health improved nicely. So well, in fact, he no longer needed me to be his legs.” He shook his head just as slowly as he spoke. “I was selfish to think that burden belonged to ye alone. I was so bitter, so young. I should have mourned ye instead of mourning the duty that passed to me.” He frowned and blinked again as he studied Ethan’s face, his kilt. “Is it truly Ethan that stands before me?”

  “Aye, brother.” Moodie turned to Soni. “I need to touch him, lass.” If he was to lose his mortality in any case, he needed it well and truly gone so he could better interact with Colin.

  She nodded, waved a hand, and nodded again. Colin seemed to see her not at all.

  Moodie reached out for his brother’s arm, ignoring the color of the coat, and was grateful when his hand didn’t pass through. And before anyone might forbid him or claim there was no time for such things, he grabbed Colin’s other arm as well and pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around his dear brother’s shoulders and willed him to feel it, to know that he was well and truly loved.

  And forgiven. As easily as Penny was to forgive. As he wanted to be forgiven himself. But when he finally pulled back and looked into his brother’s eyes, he knew that forgiveness had already been given.

  The mist gradually lightened around them. The bridge above their heads became a massive and modern thing and the water beneath them a loud and rushing river, though they still hung above it.

  “Ethan!” Colin grinned, his visage suddenly young and delightful again, his Red Coat replaced by the family tartan. “Let us go, aye?” He pointed over Moodie’s shoulder to a spot where it seemed the air had been rent open. “We can move on, together. Can Heaven be far?”

  Somehow, Moodie could still feel his heart beating inside him. In his nose and mouth, he could taste the dawn. He was not the mortal man that had walked upon the isle of Stroma, and yet neither had he returned to his ghostly form.

  He looked closely at the witch. “Tell me what I must do.”

  She took a deep breath. “Bid yer brother farewell. Ye’ll see him again soon enough. But if ye’re still interested in that lass on Stroma…”

  The words were a gift, yet Soni did not smile. He assumed she didn’t want to sway him into staying with her when she knew it would bring him such joy to go with Colin. But clearly, the lass had no idea of the true and biding attachment that had grown between himself and his Elvin lass.

  He turned back to his brother, put a hand to the side of his neck, and slapped his shoulder with true affection. “Godspeed, Colin. I will join ye shortly, for I have yet to secure the forgiveness of another before I do.”

  Colin grinned. “Alas, there is a lass, I fear.”

  Moodie nodded and watched as his brother entered the portal that would take him on to whatever awaited them in the next life. When Colin’s hand reappeared long enough for a quick wave, he laughed.

  Soni took his hand once more. Blackness descended but he knew better than to worry…

  Chapter Nineteen

  Penny showered, put on clean clothes, and added a touch of makeup all without Ethan returning to the cottage. She figured he might be babysitting a certain American down at the pier, so she took the time to dry her hair in front of the fire. If she rushed, she’d end up with a big ball of frizz, and she was grateful she had the time to avoid that.

  When her hair was good and dry, however, she was antsy to see the big Scot’s face again, and decided to take matters into her own hands. She tied her curls behind her head and got out the four-runner, but before heading out, she went back inside and grabbed Tom’s watch, removed it from the fancy box, and stuffed it into her pocket.

  She hadn’t gone far when she recognized Tom’s dark outline. He was sitting at the top of the path that led to the dock, probably hoping she would see him, revert to her old self, and invite him back.

  The poor delusional man turned when he heard the engine. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he demanded to take the four-wheeler with him, but he didn’t. He just got to his feet and smiled, no doubt waiting for an apology.

  Since she didn’t have her pan or her Highlander with her, she stopped a good twenty feet away but left the engine running, so she had to shout. “Have you seen Ethan?”

  “Not since he left us alone. You think he left?” His smile was a little too hopeful.

  She shook her head. “He didn’t have a boat.” At least, not a working one. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t know where he’d come ashore.

  “I really wish you could forgive me,” he yelled.

  “Tom, honey?”

  He brightened. “Yes?”

  “You’re what my grandfather would call a turd. You can’t blame a turd for acting like a turd.”

  He winced. “That’s a horrible reason to forgive someone.”

  “Be grateful I’m feeling generous. And don’t take your eyes off the pier. You miss your boat, you’ll have to swim.”

  At the south end of the main body of Stroma lay The Haven, which was traditionally the main harbor of the island. Looking down from the hillside, Penny saw no boat, no sign of a shipwreck, so she turned east.

  The area at the southeast quadrant of the island was named Uppertown because it was the highest in elevation. On the slope between it and the shore was the Kennedy Mausoleum. It was a big draw for tourists, for centuries, because of two mummies that had once been housed there. But Ethan, apparently, hadn’t been interested in that part of Stroma’s history.

  The dogs made an appearance on Cairn Hill and watched to see if she would call them to her, and when she didn’t, they happily went on their way. Fergus barked once, just to be sure, but Penny shook her head and he disappeared with the rest.

  She headed west again and followed the shoreline, grateful she hadn’t come on foot considering all the backtracking she did.

  Ethan Moodie was not studying the seal colony at Sandy Geo. Nor was he climbing around the ruins of Castle Mestag. She searched around the rock quarry, the church, and the school house. He was not trying to make a phone call from the famous red phone booth that had been symbolic of the 6 millionth phone box in Britain.

  He was nowhere near the Mains or the man-made lake created for racing miniature yachts. He was not birdwatching or choking on the smell at Barney’s Geo. Nor was he toying with crabs in The Gloup, though she only hollered, or poking around the lighthouse—she’d gone inside and hollered there too. If he’d been hiding inside one of the abandoned houses on the island, he had to have been hiding intentionally, or he would have come out when he heard the four-wheeler.

  Which made no sense at all.

  While she followed the east shore back south toward the Netherland pier, having searched the entire island, she felt sick to her stomach. What if something’s happened to him? What if his boat was still seaworthy and he left without saying goodbye?

  Neither possibilities were bearable, especially when she didn’t know where to look, to help him. And if he’d left…

  No. He wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye. She was sure of it.

  Too bad there isn’t a bloodhound in the pack.

  After finding the house and barn still empty, with nothing disturbed, Penny headed to the pier again. The idea that Tom might have something to do with Ethan’s disappearance was pretty ridiculous, but she was so worried and confused she couldn’t rule anything out.

  Tom was still sitting at the edge of the hill when she approached. He got to his feet like
before, only this time, he looked just as worried as she was. “You must have searched the whole island if you’re just getting back here.”

  “I did.”

  “Couldn’t find him?”

  “No.” She took a deep breath. “You two didn’t…fight, did you? While I was taking a shower?”

  Tom looked her in the eye. “No, Penny. I swear it. And I can’t imagine where he went if he didn’t have a boat. I noticed he talked to that captain for a long time, but you called him on the radio after that, after he’d left, right?”

  “Right. Brian would have said something if he had Ethan aboard. Besides, he’d had a schedule to keep. He wouldn’t have waited.”

  It was always hard to tell which direction sound was coming from on the island, and it took a minute to finally see the barking dogs headed their way from the southwest. As they neared, the desperation in their barks was clear—a little high-pitched cry that meant something was definitely wrong. And they knew where.

  “I’m coming with,” Tom shouted, then he climbed onto the back of the four-wheeler, careful to hold onto the rack and not her. Though the dogs didn’t care to have anything to do with him—which he never tried to rectify for the sake of research, or so he claimed—he’d heard that alarmed bark enough times to recognize it. So Penny stopped worrying about getting him off the island and was, instead, glad to have help, just in case.

  He didn’t say it, but she knew he was thinking the same thing—Ethan was in trouble.

  Chapter Twenty

  Fergus didn’t wait for them to catch up. He turned back the way he’d come so he could lead the way, confident Penny would follow. Unfortunately, he and the pack headed straight for The Gloup.

  Penny figured she’d been by there less than an hour ago and the dogs must have been following. She’d turned off the engine and screamed Ethan’s name, then waited a good five minutes for him to show himself. If he’d been in the pit, he hadn’t been able to answer. Unfortunately, the tide had already begun to rise, which meant she wouldn’t have seen his footprints because the sandy bottom had already been covered in a foot of water.

  There was still hope that the dogs might be leading them all the way to the shore, beyond The Gloup, but her hope died as the animals slowed and stepped carefully to the edge of the pit, to bark down into it.

  Eight dogs. She hadn’t noticed before. Three were missing.

  Penny jumped off the four-wheeler and ran, hoping against hope that the water level was low enough for a rescue. She cursed when she couldn’t see the bottom through the waves anymore. It had to be three feet deep.

  Tom reached her side and grabbed her arm. “Holy shit. It’s too late.”

  “It’s not. Not if we hurry.”

  “Oh, no.” He pulled her away. “You’re not going down there. It’s suicide and you know it.”

  The dogs swarmed at their feet, frantic. And between barks, she heard the distant cries of dogs in the distance—cries that echoed inside a cave.

  Tom shook her arm. “You are not risking your life for those dogs. It’s too late. I won’t let you do it.”

  “Ethan might be down there. There’s no time to argue. You know I’d go down for you.” She grabbed his arm and started pulling him back to the edge. “Please. Help me.” The tug of war reversed again and she screamed in frustration. “Fine. Don’t help. But I’m going down there.”

  Tom lunged and grabbed her around the legs, knocking her onto her belly. “I won’t let you kill yourself!”

  She rolled to the side, pulled a leg free of his grasp, and used her boot to peel him off her. She finally had to kick him in the head to get him to let go. Then she half-crawled, half-ran to the edge and started climbing down. The dogs went wild, both celebrating and whining now on her behalf. A few feet down, she suddenly remembered the watch, pulled it from her pocket, and chucked it up to the grass.

  “I found your watch!” And she wasn’t as petty as she’d planned to be.

  Instead of asking for the fancy box, like she’d expected him to do, Tom yelled at her to be careful, and to hurry. It would have warmed her heart if he hadn’t been yelling from his safe perch.

  The barking up top faded and the barking from the cave got louder the closer she came to the water.

  “Ethan!”

  Only dogs answered her.

  Hopefully, the big Scot was high and dry, nursing nothing worse than a sprained ankle or something. But even if he wasn’t in the Malt Barn, she would have come anyway. She couldn’t let one of her precious pack drown just because she hadn’t gotten around to fencing off the cliffs.

  How could she have been so trusting that the animals would understand the danger and stay away? Maybe it was that one free meal, after all that time, that drove them back to snack on the plethora of crabs!

  She took a deep breath and leapt away from the rocks and into the water. When her head went under, she knew she was in trouble. Swimming had never been her strong suit. She could keep her own head above water, but someone else’s? All she could hope for was to get the dogs to the opening and fling them as far away from the cave as possible and hope they could swim hard enough to beat the current.

  If Ethan was hurt, she’d just have to hope the man might float.

  “God help me,” she whispered before her face went under again.

  The flow pushed her to the cave and she was able to touch the floor, at least, to get inside the rest of the way. On a ledge to the left the three missing dogs, drenched and shivering in the dying light, cried when they saw her. There was no sign of Ethan, thank goodness.

  The little terrier, Mitsie, didn’t wait for an invitation and jumped in the water, paddled to Penny’s shoulder, and climbed aboard. Penny could do nothing until she took care of the little one, so she pushed her way out the opening again, ducking as a wave came at her face, and holding onto Mitsie for dear life. As soon as she could take a breath, she pulled back her arm and hurled the poor thing as far as she could.

  “Swim, baby,” she muttered, then headed back in, letting the water sweep her along. The trick would be getting her feet planted to stop the momentum.

  Yeah, swim, baby, she told herself. But considering the wicked pull of the current, she wasn’t going to give herself any better chances than she gave Mitsie.

  “Stand by, my friends,” Penny called into the cave. “I’m coming for you.”

  The sound of her voice only increased the excitement of the dogs, and they yipped and cried at her approach. She reached them quickly enough, but when she did, her heart sank. The boxer’s feet were bleeding, probably from trying to climb up the walls.

  “There’s no time, guys. We’re going to have to go for it all together. I’ve only got one more try in me.” She coaxed the spaniel into the water, then called Cloud, the boxer. After a few seconds of freaking out, he finally jumped. She grabbed his collar and dragged him to the opening.

  Both dogs fought her when she forced them underwater, but then she pushed them back up again on the outside. The boxer panicked again and kicked away from her. The collar slipped from her fingers and she had to fight to keep her own head above water.

  A wave crashed over them and the white blur of Cloud flew by, sending the dog back into the cave. There was nothing she could do. She was drowning. The heavy frying pan and an hour of driving the four-wheeler had taken their toll.

  With one surge of energy, she gave the spaniel a shove, then had to fend for herself. The dog’s legs churned like mad and he moved quickly away, his furry paws were more productive than thin, boney ones. Penny kicked and tried to lift her body on top of the water so her legs wouldn’t drag her down. With a last gasp of effort, she turned and tried to float on her back, to give herself a break.

  Stay alive, damn you. Ethan’s out there, somewhere, looking for you. All you have to do is stay alive and the dream is yours.

  Her hand bumped into the rock wall and she turned onto her side, searching for a hand hold while her legs sank once agai
n. She clawed at the wall with her boots, hoping they would catch on something. But another wave crashed over her head and dragged her hands away. She felt a painful slice across the fingertips of her right hand, then they went numb.

  Panic flooded her like another tide from inside. Oh my gosh! I’m actually going to die! Warm tears mixed with the water on her face and cooled instantly. But I don’t want to die! God, please! I don’t want to die!

  She clawed through the water, back toward the wall, and tried again. And again, a wave took her away. Then the water calmed for a moment, as if God had heard her plea and had come to help. Her pointed toes scraped the bottom, which gave her a rush of joy. She might actually be able to propel herself forward if she just allowed herself to sink first!

  She pushed off, found air, took a breath, then allowed herself to sink again, giving up her air to do so. She pushed forward again, though she made little progress.

  Another deep breath, then sink…

  This time, when she pushed off, she was bowled over backward, blindsided by a vicious wave and pushed back, back into the Malt Barn yet again. She spun over and over like so much laundry in a washing machine, but she fought and fought until she found precious air. She gasped in a deep breath as another wave came to finish her off. The water knocked her sideways, then plowed her head into the wall.

  Bright lights flashed inside her skull. Maybe stars. Then the world went black.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Moodie’s feet were once again pressing down against the isle of Stroma, very near the same place he’d begun his quest, on the western shore. Only this time, the Pentland Firth was much calmer that it had been that stormy day.

  “Ethan.” Soni squeezed his hand, then released it. “Forgiveness is a priceless thing, aye?”

  “Aye, lass, as is gratitude. I should have thanked ye sooner for giving me a chance to see my brother, so the both of us could find peace. And for offering me a second taste of mortality. But most especially, for the chance to meet a fine woman. For a chance to say farewell…”