Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  Ramos was a good person. She’d have known if he weren’t. But his going to all the trouble to seek her out was confusing. Still, it didn’t really matter. She needed a change. A distraction. If nothing else, playing tourist for a day might get her mind off the things she didn’t want to think about. Besides, seeing him again felt like the thing she was supposed to do.

  Entering her living room, she started to close the front door, but stopped herself. No more hiding. She’d done that for the past week. She left the door wide open, then moved to the windows, opening each in turn.

  Continuing on into the bedroom, she stopped as she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror.

  “Good Lord. No wonder Martha was worried. I look awful.”

  The woman staring back at her from the mirror needed serious help. Her face was pale, sporting great dark circles under her eyes. The eyes themselves red rimmed from exhaustion and the occasional crying bout. Her hair was a mass of tangles, looking as though it hadn’t felt the touch of a comb for days, which, in fact, it hadn’t.

  Sarah shook her head in disgust. When had she let herself turn into this?

  Well, nothing a hot shower and a quick nap wouldn’t fix. Oh, and maybe some teabags on those eyes. And a good meal. When was the last time she’d eaten? If she had to ask, it had been too long.

  “Pity party’s lasted long enough. Time to rejoin the world of the living.”

  Perhaps Ramos’s call had been exactly what she’d needed.

  Her heart might be broken, but she wasn’t.

  * * *

  “You’re sure that’s the name she said? Ramos?” Dallyn walked to the edge of the small terrace, hands clasped behind his back. “Your housekeeper was close enough to hear her clearly?”

  “Please. Martha misses verra little that goes on around here. It’s exactly as I told you.” Henry sipped his tea before casting a quick glance at the pacing Fae. “He’s one of the men they met at Daniel’s, is he no? The ones that had Ian so worried when he returned.”

  “I’m afraid he is.”

  “What have you been able to learn about him?”

  “Ramos? I haven’t been able to dig up a single piece of sod on the man.”

  “Dirt,” Henry automatically corrected. “Not sod.” The Fae was forever trying out new sayings so that he might blend in, yet he never seemed to get them right.

  “Ah, yes. Dirt.” Dallyn returned to the table, pulled the chair out as if to sit, but stopped, looking down the path toward the cottage. “Not a single thing. It’s as if the man’s existence had been intentionally hidden from us.”

  “And the other one, the brother? Have you discovered anything about him?”

  “There’s nothing to discover about Reynard. I know him well. Knew him well,” the Fae amended as he began to pace the length of the terrace again. “Though he had no brother. He was one of the instigators of the original troubles. I expected one of the Nuadian High Council to be behind this. I just hadn’t anticipated it would be Reynard. Although I suppose it could be worse. And I don’t like it that this Ramos character, whoever he is, is calling on Sarah.”

  “That would mean Ian was correct? That Sarah could be in danger?”

  “Oh, yes. I would say it’s a safe bet they have designs on our little American guest.”

  Henry lowered his gaze to the cup before him. “Ian isna going to be happy with this. He verra specifically told her she was no to see either one of those men again.”

  Henry’s head snapped up at Dallyn’s derisive snort.

  “Well, he did,” Henry defended.

  “And what of it? Did any of us actually expect her to listen to anything he’d said after the way he left? I think not.” Dallyn shook his head as he paced. “No, I think not.”

  “She did seem a bit disturbed by his leaving.”

  Another snort drew Henry’s attention back to his guest.

  “Really? Do you think so? Was it her refusing to leave the cottage for a week that convinced you? Or perhaps her sitting at that confounded machine tapping away around the clock? Maybe the sound of her sobbing at all hours of the day and night?” He stopped pacing and glared at Henry.

  Dallyn was obviously agitated, something quite unusual in itself. That alone made Henry nervous.

  “I dinna know about all of that. She’s kept to herself.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve gone to check on her several times since Ian left.”

  “There was nothing else he could do.”

  “He could have stayed. Seen it through.”

  “You know verra well why he dinna. Why he felt he couldn’t.” Ian had given him only the barest details, but Henry knew that Dallyn had been told the full story.

  “I know why he thinks he couldn’t stay. I happen to believe he was rash in his interpretation, his logic colored by emotion. A fairly common Mortal failing.” He shrugged.

  “Then perhaps we should call Ian. Tell him what’s going on. You could order him back.”

  Dallyn paused once again at the table, arms folded, tapping one finger against his chin in thought. “Not yet, my young friend. All in due time.”

  Henry felt the power of Dallyn’s next words in the man’s piercing gaze.

  “Fate has a hand to play out here. Both Ian and Sarah have choices yet to make. All in due time.”

  Twenty-one

  “…On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond.”

  Sarah stopped and looked around guiltily. Thank goodness, Ramos had crossed over to the gift shop to get a soda for her. The little snatch of song had slipped out as she stood looking over the splendor of that same lake. Scotland was perhaps the most beautiful place she had ever been. To think she might have missed seeing all this if Ramos hadn’t called and practically insisted on showing it to her!

  As if on cue, he stepped out of the shop. Two young women sitting on a bench outside the little store stopped their conversation to watch him walk toward her. She had to admit, he was a compelling sight, striding across the road in the dark pants and fitted polo shirt that exactly matched the color of his eyes. The girls, of course wouldn’t know that. Dark sunglasses covered the pale green eyes that always gave the impression of missing nothing. His long black hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, exposing a small diamond stud in his ear that sparkled with reflected sunlight when he turned his head to check for oncoming traffic.

  For the second time since her arrival in Scotland, she found herself on a road trip with a handsome man who was basically a stranger. This time, however, she felt no pressure. Amazing how freeing it was to spend time with someone to whom you weren’t attracted. Someone who was truly just a friend.

  She looked back at the girls still staring after Ramos. They’d probably think she was crazy for not being attracted to a man like him. Perhaps they were right. He was good-looking in a dangerous sort of way. Dangerous. That was the perfect description. Ian’s warning raced through her mind.

  No. Ian was gone, and she would not think about him or about anything he had ever said. Gone. Done. Never happened.

  “Here you go.” Ramos approached her carrying two orange and blue cans. “The shopgirl assured me this is, by far, the most popular native soft drink. IRN-BRU.”

  He popped her drink open before handing it to her, then did the same with his own. As she tipped the can up, she noticed his wrinkled expression in response to his own taste of the orange, fizzy drink.

  “Hmm…. Perhaps they’re popular with a younger set. What is that flavor? Bubblegum?” His face was still wrinkled in distaste.

  She giggled. The smooth, sophisticated Ramos making faces was not at all what she’d expected. It totally blew the dangerous label she had just decided on for him. “No. I’d say it’s more like Halloween candy. Those spongy, peanut-shaped candies, you know?”

  His eyebrow lifted and she giggled again, certain he had no idea what she was trying to describe.

  “Yes, well, if we come across any of those particular candies, you w
ill point them out, won’t you? I think I’d like to avoid them.”

  He took her elbow to direct her back to the silver Bentley Continental GT he’d left pulled off to the side of the road.

  Once they were on their way, Sarah’s curiosity took center stage, forcing her to begin the so-far fruitless quizzing all over again.

  “So. If you won’t tell me where yet, have you at least decided when you’re going to tell me where we’re headed?”

  When he had picked her up that morning, he told her he had located an opportunity to interact with the native population at its best, but that their destination was a secret. Her only clue was that they were headed west, and that only because of the electronic compass on the dash of the car.

  Ramos arched an eyebrow and glanced at her over the top of his designer sunglasses. “You’re really not a very patient woman, are you?”

  “No. Patience is not one of my virtues.” She drummed her fingers on the arm rest. “At least give me a hint.”

  “Very well. A hint.” He paused as if thinking of something suitably vague to tell her. “All right, how’s this? It starts at one o’clock and we should be there by then.”

  “And what is it that starts at one?” She pulled her own sunglasses down on the bridge of her nose and batted her eyelashes at him expectantly.

  “That’s all you get, my sweet. You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Neither her continued wheedling nor her long, dramatic sighs were successful in getting anything more from him other than laughter. Finally she gave up trying to discover their destination and simply concentrated on enjoying the scenery.

  They settled into a comfortable silence, breaking it occasionally to point out some new sight they passed. It was after one of these longer silences that Ramos cleared his throat, garnering Sarah’s attention. He stared straight ahead, casting one quick glance her direction.

  “Though I don’t particularly like to admit it, I believe it’s just possible that your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”

  “Which of my bad habits would you be referring to?” She wished she could see his eyes behind those dark lenses.

  “Your unrelenting curiosity and lack of patience. I find myself similarly struck.”

  “Not much fun, is it?” She smiled in his direction. “So what is it you’re dying to know? Unlike you, I’m open to answering anything.” Almost anything, she silently corrected herself.

  “What convinced McCullough to let you come with me today?”

  Anything but a discussion about Ian, that is.

  “There was no need to convince anyone of anything. I’m not a child to be given or refused permission to do something I want to do. You asked, I said yes. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She looked out her window, refusing to make eye contact with him. The disbelief in his voice, and in him, hung heavy in the car, as if it had a life of its own.

  “Very well. Then what did he say when you told him you were coming with me?”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I answered one of your questions, now you have to answer one of mine.”

  He arched a look over the top of his sunglasses. “I don’t recall making any such bargain.”

  She shrugged. She would not discuss Ian. The day had been so pleasant, she would not allow that pain back to the surface.

  “This is a pretty little village. What did the sign back there say it’s called?”

  After a slight pause, Ramos answered. “Invergarry. It’s where we’ve been headed. Down this way,” he added as he turned onto a smaller road, passing through the town.

  Cars pulled off to either side of the road to park where they could, and a crowd of people gathered in a ball field to their left. A banner flew above the field announcing a welcome to the Glengarry Highland Games.

  “Here we are. Shinty Park. Their Highland games are a local festival. I thought this would give us a good flavor of the real people.”

  They climbed from the car and wandered down into the crowds.

  Food booths sat along the outer perimeter, and areas of competition were set up within the field. Young girls in Highland dress milled about a small stage, giggling and waving to one another. At the far end of the field, several men in kilts appeared to be taking practice throws with a heavy metal ball. The sound of bagpipes drifted across the field as a small pipe band marched in their direction, stepping in time to the wailing notes.

  Sarah looked around in awe. “This is wonderful. How did you know about it?”

  “I didn’t. I wanted to attend an authentic Highland games while I was here and the concierge at my hotel found this one taking place this weekend. So, here we are.”

  They wandered from competition to competition, watching the locals and visitors alike enjoy food, drink and one another’s company. Everyone they met was friendly and welcoming. It was a perfect summer day for such an outing, the sun shining brightly with only a few wispy clouds floating overhead. Sarah had already learned how quickly that could change, so she was enjoying the warmth.

  “Come now,” a tiny old lady called from a booth they passed. “Yer a fine, strong lad. Pay us a pound to toss the boot. See if you canna impress yer lovely lassie with the strength of those great, fine muscles. All the money goes to the Fireman’s Fund.”

  Several men gathered in rows on the field, hefting large firemen’s boots, testing their weight. The field itself had markers down the side showing the distance.

  “Go on.” Sarah pointed at the field. “It’s all for charity. Show me what you’ve got.”

  Ramos removed his sunglasses and handed them to her, grinning like a little boy as he took to the field for the event.

  The growing crowd of men and boys lined up on the field, all carrying on a loud, good-natured banter about who would be throwing their boot the farthest down the field. Sarah smiled as one small boy struggled with his practice throw, trying to heft a boot almost as large as he was.

  She moved to the edge of the field and lifted her hand to shade her eyes, wishing she wore a hat. Of course, if she’d only known where she was going, she would have brought one. Lost in that train of thought, she was surprised to feel a tug on her skirt. Looking down, she was even more surprised by what was doing the tugging.

  “H’lo, Auntie.”

  A happy little face beamed up at her. The small girl holding on to her skirt had huge green eyes framed by long dark lashes and a riot of blond curls pinned back from her face on either side with big bows. She wore a sundress made from a tartan that matched the bows.

  “Hi, honey. Are you lost?” She didn’t see any adults who appeared to be searching for the child.

  “Nope.”

  “Are your mommy and daddy around?”

  The little girl giggled, daintily placing her free hand over her mouth. “Yes, Auntie. My da’s out there.” She pointed to the field where Ramos and the others were beginning the first round of boot tossing.

  Obviously the child had her confused with some relative. She looked around again but still saw no one rushing their direction.

  “Who’s supposed to be watching you while your daddy’s on the field?”

  “Doogie. But he went for a cake, over there.” She pointed toward the lines of people at the food booths. “I’m hot. Let’s go sit under them trees.” The little girl began walking away, still holding the hem of Sarah’s dress.

  Quite naturally, Sarah followed. Although the child might not consider herself lost, Sarah was a little concerned.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Rose.”

  “That’s a pretty name. I’m Sarah. How old are you?”

  “Five.” Rose stopped and looked at the ground where she dug her toe into the grass. When she looked back up, her cheeks were pink. “Well, almost five. I will be five. My next birthday.”

  “Oh. I guess that would count, then.” Sa
rah smiled down at the little girl and winked. “Lots of ladies don’t tell the whole truth about their ages. It’s a woman thing.”

  The child nodded and plopped down on the ground in the shade of a large tree, the hem of Sarah’s skirt tightly clutched in her little hand.

  Sarah sat down, her back against the trunk of the tree. Rose immediately crawled up into her lap, her emerald eyes sparkling.

  “I gots roses in my Faerie kiss on my back. Wanna see?”

  She turned her back and Sarah immediately spied the dark red birthmark just below Rose’s shoulder blade, clearly exposed by the crisscross straps of her little sundress.

  Faeries again. Was there no escaping them in this country? Everyone she met seemed obsessed with them.

  Sarah tilted her head, studying the child’s back. On closer inspection, the mark really did look like a bouquet of roses.

  “Where’s your Faerie kiss?” Big emerald eyes studied her.

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Oh. You sure?” Rose clearly doubted her word on this.

  “I’m sure. No Faerie kisses.”

  The little girl’s response was halted by a shout coming toward them.

  “Rosie!” A boy, only a couple of years older than Rose, his hands filled with sweets, ran across the edge of the field to where they sat. “I told you to stay right where I left you, over by the boot guys.”

  Rose shrugged. “I got hot, so I’m sitting here with Auntie Sarah.”

  The brown curly head turned in Sarah’s direction, doubt aimed at her from a second source.

  “She’s not our aunt, Rosie.” His little brow wrinkled. “Sorry, lady.”

  “Not a problem.”

  He held out one of the cakes to his little sister, but she ignored it.

  Rose let go of Sarah’s dress and wiggled around in her lap until they were face to face. She rolled her little eyes in an expression of exasperation that belonged on the face of a much older female, especially accompanied as it was by her one-line response.

  “Men.”