Forevermore

by Cindy Miles

  The ring was a black mark upon the Munro family. It had originated from a different clan, one who had feuded with the Munros back in the early Middle Ages. The ring was so powerful that whoever wore it could cast all kinds of spells — apparitions, pain, sickness … even death. In particular, the ring was dead set against newcomers, people it viewed as interlopers. That was why my mom and I had been its targets when Elizabeth wore it.

  It wasn’t until Emma and I destroyed the ring, and the spell book, that its power disappeared for good. And it wasn’t until Niall removed the rowan from Logan’s flute that his particular enchantment had broken. Logan was free.

  And I am ever so glad. Now that Logan is alive again, at eighteen, he will live out his life. He’ll go to school. I’ve already begun to teach him how to read. He’ll play his flute, maybe learn a new instrument.

  Logan stayed overnight in Ian’s croft, but today, Jonas drove us over to the Munro keep after I got out of school. Logan wants to learn to drive, too. To learn everything. But we have time. So much time.

  As we wait for the door to open, Logan, sensing my stare, glances down at me. His mercury eyes soften, and one corner of his mouth lifts in a slight grin. I want to fling my arms around him. It’s very difficult to keep from touching him at all times, now that I can.

  The enormous door to the keep opens, and Ethan Munro stands in the archway. All six foot seven inches of him. Ethan stares at Logan, inspecting him from head to toe. Then he gives a nod.

  “Och, boy,” he says, amazement tingeing his heavy accent. He pulls Logan into a fierce hug, and Logan hugs him back. Then Ethan Munro looks at me and grins.

  “You’re a strong lass, Ivy,” he says, then drops a kiss to my cheek. He turns back to Logan, who still stands rigidly tall with his chin lifted, meeting his ancestor’s gaze. Ethan puts his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Come inside, boy, and I’ll show you to your room. You’ll fit in just fine here, I vow it.”

  Logan squeezes my hand and follows Ethan inside. Ethan looks over his shoulder at me and, with eyes the exact same color as Logan’s, winks.

  “Ivy! Logan!” Amelia says, appearing at my side. She hugs us both. “Come inside before you freeze!”

  I grin and step into the Munro keep. Logan’s new home.

  Filled with Logan’s ancestors from long ago.

  This is the place that taught me that the impossible can be possible.

  “Come on,” Amelia says, pulling me along the corridor to the kitchen. “I’ve got a can of Cheez Whiz with your name on it, girl. And I want to talk to you about a new story idea I have.”

  I smile at her. Amelia is the most likable person I’ve ever met. Well, almost. She definitely ranks up with the top three anyway.

  As I watch Logan Munro swagger up the spiral steps, still dressed in his nineteenth-century clothes, I know I’ve witnessed magic. And miracles.

  And I’m so grateful for both.

  I mean, I’m in a keep full of once-enchanted fourteenth-century warriors. My once-ghost boyfriend’s new home.

  Then, in the next instant, Logan rushes back down the stairs. He pulls me into a tight embrace, his mouth to my ear.

  “Mairidh mo ghaol gu siorraidh, Ivy Calhoun,” he whispers.

  I smile at him. “I’ll love you forever, too.”

  With a grin, he races away.

  Somewhere above, several deep laughs break out.

  I smile. Grateful doesn’t even begin to describe it.

  The twinkling lights in the ancient kirk emit amber hues over the stone walls. The crowd gathered in the seating area below the stage are cast in shadows. Only in the first few rows are the faces visible.

  I’m here. At the Strings of the Highlands festival. In Inverness. Wicked sweet.

  Sir Malcolm Catesby, famed violinist, is in the audience somewhere. The thought makes me sweat a little.

  But in the front row, Logan’s stare is fastened directly onto mine, and I smile.

  Nervous butterflies beat a crazy rhythm inside of my stomach. I can’t believe I’m one of the violinists competing. It blows my mind completely. There are twelve of us and we stand in a single row across the stage.

  Emma helped me pick out my dress last night. It’s a simple black shift, with a pair of black strappy heels that aren’t too daring or high. They’re just right. She insisted that I wear my hair down, and I did. She says the black dress shows off my sassy pink streak. I hope she’s right.

  I glance into the audience again. Emma is sitting beside Logan, and she’s holding hands with Serrus. Next comes my mom, now hugely pregnant and beaming. Then Niall and, yes, Gran Elizabeth — the last person I’d thought would be showing up to support me. She looks serene and proud. They’d met Logan, who I’d introduced as a cousin come to live with the Munros, and had instantly taken a liking to him. Jonas is here, too, and even Ian cleaned up for the event.

  I can’t see the second row, but I know it’s made up entirely of the other Munros. Amelia, Ethan, his brothers and cousins. I shake my head. I still can’t fully grasp everything that’s transpired.

  Headmistress Worley is seated off to the side, and I catch her gaze. She gives me a thumbs-up.

  I’m number seven down the line of violinists, and the first six are phenomenal. My nerves are jumpy, but every time I look at Logan he smiles, and immediately, I feel calm again.

  “And for your pleasure, next is our lovely American, Miss Ivy Calhoun, playing her own composition, ‘Forevermore.’” The director nods to me, giving me my cue to begin.

  The lights dim, all except the one centered on me. I let everything wash through me, over me, all that’s happened since I first set foot at Glenmorrag. It races through my veins and winds its way to my fingertips like a live thing. My arm lifts, sets the bow, and slowly, I begin to play. Every emotion I feel, for my dad, my mom and Niall, my soon-to-be siblings, my new friends, and even old Elizabeth, pours into my melody.

  Especially my feelings for Logan Munro. They have become my muse.

  Everything inside of me is silent, save the music.

  And I play. The melody starts out haunting. I change tempo, and add that something extra that makes the music mine. It’s sometimes frowned upon, but I’ve learned to accept me for me.

  And this is my music. My way. My bow flies over my strings, faster, faster, and then slows. The music evokes the ghostly spirit of the Highlands.

  When I finish, I’m out of breath. The applause is deafening. It’s what brings me back to the stage, from the place I go to when I sink into my song. My gaze finds Logan’s, and he’s standing with the rest of them, clapping so hard and grinning so widely, my heart soars.

  Then he mouths the words I love you.

  I smile, and then I laugh. I love you, too, I mouth in return.

  I realize it doesn’t matter if I win the contest or not.

  This is my life. My destiny.

  Unbelievable stuff. Stuff you find only in fairy tales.

  Except this time, it happened for real. Logan’s for real.

  And he’s all mine.

  Forevermore.

  To the following, I owe way more than mere gratitude and thanks. I owe you a piece of my heart for helping Ivy, Logan, and Forevermore leave the recesses of my imagination and become a reality.

  My mom, Dale Nease, is my biggest fan, and her constant love and support will be with me until I’m old and gray. My daughter, Tyler, is always there to listen to my ideas and keep my voice young. My best friend and author sister, Kim Ungar, is there for daily chats, brainstorming, recipe swapping, encouragement, and all-around life. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  My fantastic agent, Deidre Knight of the Knight Agency, is so much more than an agent to me. She believed in Forevermore and me, and for that I’m eternally grateful. My editors, Aimee Friedman and Becky Shapiro, helped me realize Forevermore in a whole new light. Their input/editing/ideas have been magic! Artist Tricia Cramblet and cover designer Yaffa Jaskoll brought Ivy and Lo
gan to life on the book’s cover. Such a beautiful and fantastic job!

  Best friends and Wolfpack — you know who you are — keep me laughing, living life to the fullest, and are always encouraging. We will have the funniest memories long into our elder years! Long-time pal, world travel buddy, and sister author, Leah Marie Brown, and I have shared many crazy adventures, and they’ll always inspire my life and writing.

  And finally, Angus J. Maclennan is owner and proprietor of the fabulous Ivy Cottage in the Highlands of Scotland, and was also my landlord there for two and half weeks. Ivy Cottage’s lands are complete with ancient standing stones and close to dozens of historical sites and castles, and were and are sheer inspiration for my writing. A true and proud Scotsman from the ancient Isle of Lewis, Angus, along with his sister, Ishbel Maclennan, helped me with the beautiful Gaelic language used in Forevermore. Ishbel also supplied the gorgeous Scottish Proverb that opens the story. To actually hear the Gaelic language spoken is pure enchantment! Thanks again to Angus, his wife, Fiona, and their adorable Highland dancing daughter, Emma, and Shep, their naughty fence-jumping sheepdog! It was the most memorable and inspiring trip to Scotland I’ve ever experienced! Without all of you, the story simply wouldn’t mean so much to me.

  CINDY MILES is a successful author of romance novels for adults. She grew up on the salt marshes of the Vernon River in Savannah, Georgia. After first visiting Scotland’s desolate moors and haunting castle ruins, the country and its wild history fast became her muse. Cindy still lives in Savannah, and frequents the crumbling fortresses of Scotland and England as often as possible. Forevermore is her first novel for teens. You can visit Cindy online at www.cindy-miles.com.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Miles, Cindy.

  Forevermore / by Cindy Miles. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: When sixteen-year-old Ivy starts a new life in her stepfather’s castle in Scotland, she finds that her stepfather’s grandmother is implacably hostile and some mysterious spirit in the castle is trying to injure her — and her new best friend is a ghost named Logan.

  ISBN 978-0-545-42622-0

  1. Magic — Juvenile fiction. 2. Castles — Scotland — Juvenile fiction. 3. Ghost stories. 4. Stepfamilies — Scotland — Juvenile fiction. 5. Scotland — Juvenile fiction. [1. Magic — Fiction. 2. Castles — Fiction. 3. Ghosts — Fiction. 4. Stepfamilies — Fiction. 5. Family life — Scotland — Fiction. 6. Scotland — Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.M594313For 2013

  813.6 — dc23

  2012035275

  Copyright © 2013 by Cindy Miles

  All rights reserved. Published by Point, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, POINT, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First edition, July 2013

  Cover art by Trish Cramblet

  Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll

  e-ISBN 978-0-545-53936-4

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.