Ghosts of Culloden Moor 08 - Duncan

by L. L. Muir

  The truck spun and swerved through the darkness. He saw the white pressure of Lainey’s knuckles as she gripped the wheel. “Do you have that?”

  “Have what?” He knew Lainey could not take her eyes from the road to look at him, and he was grateful. She knew he was stalling.

  “A wee bit of time. How much time do you really have?”

  Her voice was clogged with emotion. How could he tell her, with everything else, that he was but a ghost? That the man holding her daughter was nothing more than a spirit in a body whose rent was overdue?

  “I doona think much.” He finally answered. “Though I pray I’ll be given lenience, to see Molly safe.”

  Molly coughed long and hard, leaving a fleck of the pink spittle on her lip. Duncan gently wiped it away and readjusted her blanket.

  “Who’s to grant you that lenience?” Lainey asked, a tinge of something new in her voice. Anger?

  He sighed. He was simply too exhausted and worried for pretense any longer. She’d believe him or no’. It didna matter. Soni would come when it pleased her. He couldna change that. Lainey may well put him out of the lorry when he told her, but he doubted she’d slow the thing long enough to do it. Mayhap, she’d have him whisked away by brawny lads as soon as they reached the hospital, to be locked in a tiny room somewhere. He wouldn’t fash about the room but he couldn’t bear to be locked away with no way to ken Molly’s fate. He’d have to trust her.

  “I’ve a strange tale to tell, lass. I asked ye once before if ye trusted me. Ye said yes. Do ye still?” He watched her, but could not read her face beyond the strain of keeping the bucking, lurching lorry on the road.

  “I do.” She was quick to respond. “Unconditionally. I trust you with Molly and there’s no stronger proof I can give you, than that.”

  “‘Tis not the best time to tell ye, what with ye barreling through the black night on a slimy ribbon of a road. Ye’ll keep yer wits, no matter what?”

  “Duncan.” She spit the word through gritted teeth. “Just get on with it. I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “Fine, then. I’m a ghost.” There. He said it. He watched for her reaction, gripping Molly a bit tighter. She blinked a few times but said nothing. Nothing changed. Not her face or the set of her shoulders. “Did ye hear me?”

  She let out a big breath and swerved around a turn in the road, veering from side to side until she righted the lorry again. “I did.”

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” she snapped.

  “Ye believe me?”

  “I believe you believe. I’m…going to need a minute to get used to the idea. I’d ask for a…demonstration, or something, but you’re holding my daughter and I’d like you not to drop her.” She flipped on the wipers again and cleared another layer of mud from the windows.

  “I wouldna drop her!” he said indignantly.

  “Okay.” She leaned forward a bit and squinted through the clean half-circle. “Where do you come from? Besides Scotland,” she added.

  “I was born in 1720 in—”

  “Scotland.” She filled in for him, taking another turn.

  “Aye, in Scotland,” he said, pulling a face she wouldn’t see. “I am Duncan Macpherson of the Clan Macpherson. From Newtonmore, near Castle Cluny. I had—”

  “Seventeen-twenty?” She asked, incredulously.

  “‘Tis what I said, aye.” Was she going to do this the whole of the tale?”

  “Cool.” She nodded. “Go on.”

  “I had a wee sister, Molly, who—” At that Lainey almost turned to face him and caught herself at the last moment. “Ye said ye’d keep yer wits, lass.”

  “Look who’s talking about having their wits,” she mumbled.

  “Molly died when she was five.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lainey said, her face softening. “How?”

  Duncan didn’t want to say, but if he was going to tell her his story, Molly was part of it. “She drowned.”

  Lainey whipped her head around and glared at him, then turned back to the road. “That’s not funny.”

  “Nay,” Duncan said brokenly. “‘Tis not.”

  Molly moaned, fluttered her eyelashes twice and was still again.

  “Did ye see that?” Duncan asked excitedly?

  “She moaned!” Lainey kept shooting sideways glances at Molly, struggling a bit to keep the lorry in a straight line. “Duncan, did you hear her?”

  “I heard. Keep yer eyes where they belong,” he leaned down to examine Molly closer in case she blinked or moved again. “She fluttered her eyelids, too.”

  “Oh, Duncan!” Lainey started to turn her head.

  “Don’t look!” he warned. “I’ll tell ye if she does it again. How much further?”

  “This is Quail Hill coming up. You’ll see the lights soon. The road seems better here. Not so wet. Once we get down off of here, we’re home free. I can go fast.”

  “Ye’ve no’ been doing that?”

  “Wait and see,” she said.

  Within minutes he could see the distant lights, like a beacon. Hope swelled in his chest. “They can help Molly, aye?”

  “They’re her best chance,” Lainey said tightly.

  They were silent for a few minutes. Duncan watched Molly for the slightest movement while Lainey flew the lorry down the hill.

  “Okay then, how did you die?” Lainey asked taking a tight turn on what felt like two wheels.

  “I already told ye. When we first met. ‘Twas my first ride in your lorry.”

  Lainey’s brows scrunched together. He could almost hear her replaying the conversation in her head. “A battle. With…the lads dying beside…you.” Her voice faded and trailed off at the end. She swallowed hard. “At…a moor,” she added a moment later.

  “Culloden Moor,” he offered. “‘Tis a famous landmark today, with thousands of visitors each year.”

  She sucked in her breath. “The visitors center.”

  “‘Tis a busy place. ‘Tis how we met Soncerae.”

  “We?” She asked, with a tinge of uneasiness. “Who is Soncerae?”

  He smiled, thinking of the bonny lass. “The wee witch who arranged for the 79 to have a chance at a face-to-face meeting with Bonny Prince Charlie, if that is their wish. Most of us have been awaiting our vengeance for a long time.”

  “But he’s…”

  “Dead.” Duncan finished for her. “It doesna matter, does it, when I am, as well.”

  “But you’re not. You’re…not. I’ve ki… You’re not.” She finished emphatically.

  “‘Tis the Muir witch’s magic. Two days, I was given, in my own body, without my wounds, to earn my boon. My appointment with the prince.”

  “That’s the appointment you’ve been talking about? The one you have no power to change?”

  “Aye. The verra one.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  The sound was more of a groan, he realized, than an acceptance of his story. “I warned ye ‘twas a strange tale.” He looked hard at her. “The trust ye claimed to have in me? Has that changed for ye, Lainey?”

  He could see her seriously pondering the question, her face awash with changing expressions and emotions. “No,” she finally said. It hasn’t.” She glanced quickly at him. “You’ve earned my trust, Duncan. I don’t know what to think about what you’ve just told me, I can’t quite get my head around it, but I do trust you.”

  That would have to be enough. It was enough. He’d take that knowledge with him and keep it in his heart. And remember the woman he met and fell in love with in two incredible days. He looked down at Molly and knew his love for the two of them would sustain him.

  Lainey kept her promise. As soon as there was blacktop under her wheels, she asked everything of the lorry it had to give. She slowed a wee bit for the turns, but the straight stretches were truly frightening.

  He grasped Molly to him, thankful ‘twas the middle of the night. Vehicles were few, but as they moved further into to town, she used the
horn, long and loud to warn any drivers foolish enough to get in her way.

  “It’s not much further,” she said, racing up the road.

  The red lights she stopped at last time they were in town

  were just bright blurs overhead.

  “Lainey, did ye—”

  “I’m watching,” she said, laying on her horn to warn an approaching car.

  She swung into the hospital parking lot and around the corner where bright lights spelled out the words EMERGENCY ROOM.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lainey screeched to a halt in front of the Emergency Room entrance, threw the truck in park and raced inside screaming for help before racing back to the truck. The triage nurse was right behind her.

  “Drowning,” Lainey said before they could ask.

  “How long,” the nurse asked, snatching Molly from Duncan’s arms.

  “I’m not sure. Hour and a half?”

  They were already rushing her inside. Lainey ran to keep up with them. Within seconds, Duncan was beside her, his hands holding the length of his plaid, like a long towel, around his waist.

  “Drowning,” the nurse yelled and the whole place jumped. “Hour and a half, possibly longer.”

  Lainey couldn’t tell which one was the doctor. They were racing around too fast to read name tags

  “She’s breathing,” one of them said, as they laid Molly on a gurney. “I want 100% oxygen on her, get me an oxygen saturation stat and an intubation kit available.” One of the nurses put an oxygen mask on her and attached a pulse ox to her finger while someone else attached electrodes to her chest and flipped on the monitor. Molly’s life was soon beating and beeping on a small screen.

  “How long was she in the water?”

  “I don’t know,” Lainey replied, turning to Duncan. It seemed like forever

  “No’ long,” Duncan said, anxiously. “Mayhap four or five minutes.”

  “Was she breathing when she was pulled out? Did you administer CPR?”

  “She was no’ breathing,” he replied, his face contorted in misery. “I pounded on her back ‘till I feared I was doing damage to her. Then I pushed on her chest, tryin’ to push the water out of her. ‘Twas no’ until I gave up that she jerked and vomited three times. Then she coughed until I thought her wee chest would burst. She was so verra cold, shiverin’ and gaspin’ and breathin’ so fast I didna think her heart could keep up.”

  Lainey covered her mouth with her hand to hold back the cry that rose in her throat as Duncan talked, picturing him working over Molly, hearing how close to death she’d been. Perhaps still was.

  “This happened in a pool?” The nurse was writing everything down on a chart.

  “No,” Lainey shook her head. “Flash flood.”

  He stopped writing, looked up at her for a split-second and started writing again.

  Any allergies?”

  “No,” Lainey replied, stepping back to make room for the people rushing in and out.

  The one who’d been examining Molly shoved his stethoscope in his pocket. Lainey assumed he was the doctor. “Tachypnea, tachycardia, cyanosis, hypothermia.” He ticked them off like a grocery list, while an aid tucked several warmed blankets around Molly.

  “‘Tis a dreadful bump on her head,” Duncan said anxiously.

  The doctor nodded. “Sizeable. From what? Do you know?”

  “Nay,” Duncan spoke up. “The water was raging fast, full of limbs and sticks. Some rocks, even. Logs, too. I doona know which.”

  “We need to run some tests. It could be a while.” He smiled, softening his all-business attitude. “We’ll take care of her. I’ll come talk to you as soon as I know anything, but right now we need to focus on your daughter.”

  “You’ll need to wait outside, Ma’am.” A different nurse put a hand on Lainey’s arm, gently guiding her out.

  “No,” I need to—”

  “You can help her best by giving the doctors room to work.

  “Let’s get an EKG, X-ray - head, neck and chest - labs, stat. Start an IV with…”

  He was still listing meds as Lainey and Duncan were escorted out and into to a waiting room.

  “The doctor will come and talk to you, as soon as he can.”

  The nurse repeated her canned speech, trying and failing to keep her eyes from continually returning to Duncan.

  He was striking in any situation, Lainey admitted, but standing virtually naked with a wad of plaid wrapped around his middle, was bound to turn a few heads. He overpowered the small room, but she suspected it was his rather striking physical appearance and roguish Highlander looks that had the woman all but swallowing her tongue.

  “I’ll have registration come in here,” she finally said, backing out of the door.

  There were two small leather settees in the room, but Lainey couldn’t bring herself to sit. Duncan scanned the room with a deer-in-the-headlights look. She suspected sitting and waiting was not his forte. Eighteenth century Highlander ghosts must be more the action types. She’d have to think about his crazy story later, when she could think. She just couldn’t reconcile crazy with the man she knew. She was going to go with the trust he’d earned and figure out the rest when she could.

  “Duncan,” she rested her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Aye,” he said absently, his mind somewhere else. “Why can’t we stay with Molly?

  “They’re running tests and getting some blood work. They’ll come for us when we can go in.” She repeated the nurses words, absently, hating that she was stuck out here, not knowing what was going on. If…no, when Molly woke up she’d be so frightened. Lainey needed to be there with her.

  “I want to see her. They can try to keep me out, but—”“Duncan.” She stopped him. “It’s the way it’s done. Don’t you think I’d be with her if there were any possibility?” She couldn’t keep her voice from breaking at the end, nor stop the tears that pooled in her eyes.

  She took a deep breath, fighting to calm the raw edginess she felt inside. “There’s a restroom down the hall and around the corner. Near where we came in. Why don’t you go get cleaned up. You’re covered in mud and leaves and who knows what.” She glanced at his hand, scrunching his plaid together in front of him. “Where’s your belt?”

  He looked down as if noticing his filthy state for the first time. “In the lorry, I ken, if ye fetched it with my plaid.”

  She realized she’d left the truck running with both doors wide open at the ER drop-off. Someone had probably moved it by now.

  “I’ll go get it while you get cleaned up but I want to hurry and get back in case there’s any news. I’m going to find a phone, though, and call the police. I want to get this video turned over to them. And I want them to go get Mark’s arson team out of my barn.

  “Come on, I’ll show you where the restroom is.”

  ~

  Duncan did battle with the evil thing that held the wee towels of paper. At least that’s where Lainey said they’d be. ‘Twas bad enough, managing the soap contrivance without trying to bathe in the wee sink. It had taken far too much time to scrub an inch of him at a time with the corner of his plaid and then scrub the plaid itself. But now this beast of a paper miser wanted him to stand, dripping on the floor while he stared it down. Finally he waived a hand in frustration. The saints could take the blasted thing.

  A small red light flashed and it spit out of bit of paper. He snatched it and tried again and again until he had a fistful.

  He dried himself in quick, rough strokes. ‘Twas no’ a thing wrong with an old fashioned bit of cloth, now was there?

  “These paper pieces are no’ fit for anything,” he mumbled, tossing them in the basket of other crumpled and used ones. He donned his shirt, a bit muddy from its time on the bank and belted his plaid snugly around his hips.

  Anxious to get back to Lainey, he reached for the door handle an—”

  “Duncan Macpherson.”

  He knew the voice. His chest cave
d, squeezing the air from his lungs. He turned slowly. “I was hopin…”

  Soncerae raised an eyebrow and waited. “For…?”

  “I know my time is up, Soni.” Duncan released a shuddering breath. “I just…I just need a wee bit longer. I need to see that my Molly will be okay.” His voice vibrated with desperation.

  She shook her head, sadly. “Duncan, she’s no’ your Molly, this wee one. Your Molly couldna be saved.”

  He needed a minute to be able to speak around the fiery lump in his throat. “I know that. I know I didna save her. The shame of it shadows my soul. But this one… This Molly canna be handed the same fate. Her mother needs her.

  “I need to know, before I leave, that she will be okay.” How could he make Soni understand? “I can endure eternity wherever ye choose put me. Back to my narrow patch of the moor if it pleases ye. Just let me know that Lainey and Molly will be okay.”

  Soni lifted a dainty shoulder. “But you’re not going back to the moor, Duncan. You have a previous engagement. You canna have forgotten yer reason for doing all of this?”

  “But I doona—”

  A timid knock sounded on the door. “Mr. Macpherson?” A harder firmer knock. “Mr. Macpherson!

  Was there news of Molly? He glanced at the door desperate to find out. He turned anxiously back to Soni to— She was gone. ‘Twas as if he’d dreamed it.

  “Mr. Macpherson? Are you in there?”

  He yanked open the door. “Aye. What is-”

  ‘Twas not a nurse but someone from one of the desks. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Mrs. Saunders asked if I would come and get you. She’s in the private waiting room speaking with some officers”

  “Molly?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, sir.” The woman shook her head. “Shall I show you the way back?”

  Duncan dragged a hand over his chin, both frustrated and relieved. “Nay. Thank ye.”

  He hurried back to Lainey. How long had he been gone? The bathing had taken too long, and then…Soni. He’d no’ been able to tell her he didna want the meeting with Charlie.

  Lainey had needed him and he’s no’ been there for her.

  He opened the door, to find two men in uniforms similar to the guards at the visitor’s center sitting across from Lainey. She was mopping tears from her face.