A Christmas Spirit

by Cindy Miles

  That stopped Paige in her tracks. “What?”

  Ethan Munro stopped as well, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Aye, ’twas an unfortunate thing, his death. It was rumored his verra best mate told him the lies, knowin’ Gabriel would go after the MacDonalds on his own. Even filched a MacDonald clan pin to leave behind. Back then, it didna take much to start up a clan war.” He smiled down at her. “Or a war o’ your own.”

  “What were the lies over?” she asked.

  Ethan sighed. “The usual. A lass.”

  “Oh.”

  Ethan inclined his head, much in the same way Gabriel did, and looked at her. “So why are you here, on the Yule’s Eve, all alone? What made you leave Gorloch?”

  Paige looked up, then lifted her heirloom from beneath her sweater. “Gabriel saw this while I was asleep.” She blushed. “He didn’t even give me time to explain.”

  “Explain what, lass?” he said, studying the pin.

  “That, well, I didn’t have anything to do with his death, even if I was from that clan o’ MacDonalds.” She said that last bit as Gabriel would have said it, and Ethan laughed.

  “Aye, well understand this: In our day, centuries ago, clans weren’t the verra best at gatherin’ and embracin’. ’Twas more of a challenge to remain enemies.” He shrugged. “The MacDonalds were a powerful lot.” He stared at her. “But they were no’ responsible for Gabriel’s death.”

  “I see,” she said quietly. “I’m pretty sure Gabriel couldn’t be convinced of that.”

  For several long seconds, Ethan Munro studied Paige. She squirmed, shifted her weight, and finally, after the heat rose on her cheeks, she looked him in the eye. “What?”

  Ethan grinned. “You’re in love wi’ him, aye?”

  The heat beneath her skin grew hotter, and she frowned. She hadn’t even admitted it to Gabriel. “Yes. Very much. Not that it matters now, and I don’t know if he feels the same. We never, well, I just.” She sighed. “He doesn’t know how I feel.”

  A slow grin crossed Ethan’s face, and he pulled out his cell phone. “You dunna worry about that, lass. Aye? You leave it in my hands.” He grazed her jaw with a knuckle. “Trust me. I vow you willna regret it.”

  Gabriel stared across the snow-l aden grounds of Gorloch. The wind had stilled and the flakes had ceased falling.

  And the one thing that had come to mean the verra most to him was a bloody MacDonald.

  And she’d deceived him.

  He frowned, pushed off the parapet, and swore.

  Inside, he paced, his thoughts running dark. How he’d fallen in love wi’ a bloody MacDonald was beyond his reasoning. He should have sensed that filthy clan within her, no matter how beautiful she was.

  MacDonalds were known for their cleverness.

  She’d certainly proven that fact.

  But fallen in love wi’ her, he had, and now he wished mightily to have her back. He’d been a fool—

  A car door slammed shut, and Gabriel jumped. So deep into his black thoughts was he that he hadna even heard the approach. For a moment, his heart betrayed him and leapt.

  Had Paige returned to him?

  He frowned. Even if she had, he’d have to make her leave. Wouldna he? He couldna allow his heart to open to one of those . . .

  Just then, the front entrance banged open. Gabriel materialized just as fast, and when his eyes clapped onto the three big men standing in the foyer, uninvited, Gabriel pulled up short. He stared, angry at their trespassing; then he could do little more than gape.

  He didna have time to do much of anything else before the one who looked just like himself began to speak.

  “No need to play your ghosty tricks on us, man,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. His men did the like. “So stay put where we can see you. We’re your kin, Gabriel Munro, born nearly a century after you. I’m Ethan. This is a cousin, Aiden, and me brother, Rob. We were enchanted for centuries, trapped on Munro lands. We’d heard stories about your murder, but ne’er thought you existed as a spirit, here.”

  Gabriel simply stared, and scowled. He didna say a word.

  Ethan Munro made up for the both of them.

  “You’ve been wrong all these centuries, and I want you to keep your tongue in your head and let me tell you the truth of it. ’Twas no’ a MacDonald who stole your life.” Ethan came closer. “ ’Twas your best mate, Padrick. ’Twas no’ thing more than he wanting your woman. But his desire turned to murder when she tried to fight him off. He didna wish to be blamed for it and knew there was tension betwixt the Munros and MacDonalds. He filched a clan pin and left it for you to find.” He stepped closer, as did his kinsmen. “You did, and at his urgin’, you blamed the MacDonalds and swore revenge.” He shook his head, those silver eyes boring into his. “You didna take long before you’d hacked your way through nearly all o’ the MacDonalds close by. But one got away, lad.”

  “Aye,” Gabriel finally said, anger nearly boiling out of him. “And I would have gotten his skinny arse, as well, had he no’ hid in the bloody east tower. He stabbed me wi’ me own blade whilst I slept!”

  Ethan frowned and hollered back. “How do you think he managed to hide up in yon tower, man? Are you so bloody blind that you canna see how Padrick deceived you?”

  The one named Aiden stepped forward. “He feared your wrath much more than he treasured your kinship. After you were killed, he carried that lie round wi’ him until days before he died himself.”

  “Aye,” said Rob. “He wanted a clear conscience before meeting God, so he told one o’ your brother’s sons.”

  “And the tale was passed down ever since,” finished Ethan.

  Gabriel looked at his kin. Emotions ran rampant through him. A week ago, and he’d no one but Craigmire and his wife. Now? He had kin.

  He’d had Paige MacDonald, as well, but he’d run her off. He’d lost her. And he was a bleedin’ idiot.

  Then, he met the silvery stare of Ethan. “How did you know to find me here?”

  Ethan grinned. “I encountered a gorgeous, melancholy lass in the book café in Inverness earlier this morn.” He shrugged. “At first I thought ’twas my dashing good looks and fine form that caused her to gape and wander up to me.”

  Rob and Aiden chuckled.

  “But I soon learned ’twas you she saw in me, and the likeness stunned her so badly, she couldna help but approach, whispering your name,” Ethan said. “It didna take long to convince her o’ the unique situation we faced.”

  It didna take long to convince Gabriel, either.

  Ethan and his kin—his verra own family—had been enchanted? The thought stunned him.

  Yet, it didna. Although it did sound more believable than his own paltry tale of murder and ghostliness.

  Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and shoved a hand through his hair. After a few solid Gaelic curses, he looked at his cousin. “I am an idiot.”

  Ethan smiled and stroked his chin. “You were deceived, cousin, but no’ by Paige MacDonald. Not by any MacDonald.”

  “I ousted her from here,” Gabriel said, and cursed again. “I’m verra sure she’d sooner throw herself from the battlements than return here, to me.”

  Aiden stepped forward and frowned. “Do you know what it means to have a fine, mortal, modern lass accept you for what and who you are, and love you irrevocably?” He shook his head. “ ’Tis a gift, man. A bloody gift you shouldna look away from. That indeed would make you an idiot, in truth.”

  Did he say love?

  “We’ll leave you now to mend the rest o’ your mess,” said Ethan, and headed for the door. The others followed. “But if you throw Paige MacDonald out o’ your home again, ’tis your own demise. There are plenty o’ live Munros who’d gladly offer for her attentions.”

  Gabriel blinked.

  The three Munros laughed.

  “We’ll be back, cousin,” Ethan said with a grin. “Happy Yuletide.”

  And then they slammed the door.r />
  Gabriel simply stared at the solid oak. His heart pounded, and his mouth suddenly ran dry. He dared to hope.

  Car doors slammed shut, the engine started, and the vehicle started off down the path, away from Gorloch.

  As Gabriel stood there, dazed by the latest events, wondering just how to get Paige MacDonald back to Gorloch and staring at the door, a small knock sounded from the other side. His insides locked up.

  He didna even have to look. He knew who it was.

  He didna know whether to shout for joy, or run for shame.

  Instead of either, he drew in a deep breath as he readied to pass through the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paige’s heart beat faster and faster with each passing second. From the moment she’d met Ethan and his kin, and on the drive back to Gorloch, she’d wanted to weep. She held it in, though.

  She was scared.

  Scared that, no matter how very differently the tale went, Gabriel would still begrudge her for not telling him she was of those MacDonalds from the very beginning. Ethan had insisted that he knew the heart of his kin better than any, and that Gabriel would indeed appreciate them bringing her back to Gorloch.

  She knocked.

  And immediately, the handsome, green-eyed warrior came through the wood and stood by her side. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as though he struggled to breathe.

  She knew the feeling.

  “Paige,” he said, searching her face. “Christ, Paige, I’m verra sorry. I dunna know what to say.”

  Paige stared up into his pleading face.

  She loved the way his sorry sounded like soddy in that deep, ancient Highland accent. “I should have told you from the start that I suspected my clan was the clan.” She looked down at the spot between her boots, and Gabriel’s ghostly ones that looked nearly as substantial as her own. “I didn’t want you to send me away.”

  Several moments of silence stretched between them, and with each breath Paige could see the frost puff out before her lips. The wind had stopped, as had the sprinkle of snow. Everything was white and bright, the air clean and fresh.

  “Look at me, Paige MacDonald.”

  With tears burning in her eyes, she slowly raised her head and met Gabriel’s gaze.

  “I regret more than anythin’, askin’ you to leave. Even if your clan had been responsible for my demise, ’twasna you, and I’m verra sorry.” He ducked his head closer and whispered, “I wish nothin’ more than for you to stay. ’Tis the Yuletide Eve, dunna forget.” His eyes sought hers. “I’m beggin’ you to stay here with me. Please?”

  Paige’s heart thumped heavily with joy. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

  He stepped closer and braced himself with one arm on the stone wall behind her head. His eyes scanned her face. “I want to kiss you powerfully bad, lass. Can I?”

  Paige didn’t trust her voice. She nodded.

  A slow smile lifted the corners of Gabriel’s mouth, and the dimples returned in both cheeks as he lowered his head. Paige sighed as his lips brushed over hers, then again, and then lingered while he explored her mouth the only way he could. Everywhere he touched her left a delicious searing in its path.

  She never wanted him to stop.

  But after a few moments, he did. Slowly, he moved his lips close to her ear. “I am verra glad you’re here,” he whispered. “The emptiness is once more gone.” He pulled back and looked at her. “Come. Let us begin enjoying our Yule, aye?”

  Paige smiled and nodded. She wanted so badly to throw her arms around his neck, press her mouth to his, and feel the pressure of his strength as he squeezed her into a warm, enveloping hug. Instead, she lifted a hand and grazed the line of his jaw and smiled.

  She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  And somehow, Gabriel seemed to sense that. His smile widened, as if he knew she was happier now than she’d ever been, and that he was responsible for it. Together they walked through Gorloch’s front entrance and up to the room she’d leased. Setting her things on the floor in a corner, Paige turned and glanced at Gabriel.

  “Can you ice-skate?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I haven’t since I was a kid.”

  Gabriel inclined his dark head. “Then come. Your wee feet look as though they’d fit right into a pair belonging to Craigmire’s wife. They’re in the mudroom, behind the larder.”

  Paige grinned. “And how will I skate through days of snowfall?”

  “Och, a smart lassy you are. The family from the next estate just had it scraped for their wee ones to use on the Yuletide, so we’d best use it now whilst we’re still alone.”

  “Clever,” she said. “And what will you wear?”

  As they hurried down the passageway, Gabriel chuckled. “I dunna need blades, Paige MacDonald. I can float.” He wiggled his brows. “Ghost, remember?”

  How could she ever forget?

  The funny thing was, she couldn’t care less.

  “Okay. No laughing,” Paige said, a mock frown stretching over her pixielike features. “I mean it.”

  Gabriel stared down at the lass who’d come to mean more than life itself, and in such a short amount o’ time.

  ’Twas miraculous at best.

  He couldna take his eyes off her . . .

  Wearing Craigmire’s bulky wool coat, Paige had Mrs. Craigmire’s ice skates laced up, a pair o’ those fetchin’ jeans that hugged her in the most intimate of ways, and that crazy multicolored hat pulled down over her wee ears. Above two black-a nd-purple moons, blue eyes shown brightly back at him.

  He thought she’d never looked so endearing.

  “Well?” she repeated, and pushed off the bench she’d sat upon to lace up the skates. “Deal?”

  Gabriel grinned and stroked his jaw. “Nay, lass. I canna make such an agreement.” He shrugged. “I suspect ’twill be too much to laugh at. I willna be able to help myself.”

  Paige scowled, and Gabriel chuckled. Then she eased from the bench and stepped onto the small, freshly scraped frozen pond, just behind the castle’s west wall. Large drifts of snow sat pushed up on the edges.

  With arms out like a bird, she glanced at him. “I hope I don’t break anything else.”

  Gabriel moved out onto the ice with her, keeping his eyes locked with hers. “Take it slow, lass. Mayhap with your wings spread as such, you willna fall.”

  Together they moved in a slow circle round the pond, and after two passes, Paige stood upright and elegant, gliding just as smoothly as a ghosty herself. A slight billow of white puffed out before her lips with each breath, and when she smiled at Gabriel, he thought the beauty of it would melt the whole bloody pond. He couldna take his eyes from her for nearly an hour.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  Gabriel swung in front of her, moving his big booted feet over the ice as though skating. He faced her, and grinned. “Because you are beautiful, what wi’ that wee red nose.” No’ to mention he’d seen more o’ her and hadn’t been able to get that eve out o’ his head.

  “Hmm,” she answered, and the she smiled. “Oh, look. It’s starting to snow again.”

  Gabriel glanced at the sky. “Aye, so it is.” He pulled closer, and looked down. “It will be dark soon. Have you skated enough?”

  With a graceful twirl, she stopped, the blade of her skates scraping the ice. “Sure.” She smiled even wider. “It’s Christmas Eve, you know.”

  Gabriel watched excitement dance in her blue eyes. “Aye, indeed I do.”

  He had a surprise for her. Actually, ’twas a bit o’ a surprise for himself, as well. And he couldna wait to bestow it upon her. “Come, then, you wee little bottomless pit. I hear your poor belly growling again.”

  Paige skated to the edge of the pond, stepped off, and moved to the bench. With one knee raised, she unlaced her skates.

  “ ’Tis wi’ regret that I cannot prepare a Yule Eve supper for you, Paige MacDonald,” he
said. “I should have had Ethan call—”

  She looked up, and the expression in her eyes softened Gabriel’s heart even more. “Honestly, Gabriel, I don’t need so much fuss. I am perfectly content eating whatever.” She took off her other skate and pulled on Craigmire’s Wellies. Then, she smiled. “As long as it’s with you.”

  That sentence alone gave Gabriel the verra courage he needed to bestow Paige her Yuletide gift. “As with me, lass,” he said quietly. He dropped down onto the bench beside her and met her shy gaze. “Had I the substance, I’d toss you in yon snow pile and kiss you breathless.”

  Paige visibly gulped. Then, once she’d turned several shades of red and pink, she gave a bashful smile. “I’d let you, too.”

  Gabriel shifted his head to one side, lowered his mouth to hers, and grazed her lips. How he could lose himself in a mind’s-eye vision of what it might actually feel like to have those soft-l ooking lips moving fervently beneath his, to have her hands push through his hair, and to feel her tongue against his. After a moment, he pulled back. “You’re makin’ me daft again, lass. Inside. Now.” He grinned. “Your lips are blue.”

  With a tinkling laugh, Paige gathered Mrs. Craigmire’s skates, and together they walked back to the castle. They spent the rest of the daylight hours walking about the halls, in the larder where he insisted Paige prepare a filling Yuletide supper—no’ just a grilled cheese sandwich and soup. She’d found a Cornish hen in the freezer, a few yams and other vegetables, as well as a frozen custard pie Craigmire had purchased from Tesco and hidden from his wife.

  Once the hen had finished baking, they sat down to eat. Gabriel conjured up a mixture of candles and ornaments for the meal, and Paige had glowed with excitement.

  As she poked her fork into a baked yam, she glanced at Gabriel. “I feel funny, sitting here eating while you can’t.”

  Gabriel watched her mouth delicately close over the fork and chew the yam. Then she lifted her glass of wine and drank. “I enjoy watching you eat. Besides. I’ve no’ eaten in centuries. Trust me—this suffices as the closest thing to actually tasting food.”