Kevin shot her an impatient look. "I seen him."
"You saw him."
"That's what I said!"
Sighing again, Laura stared into her teacup.
"Laura?"
Kahl's trembling tone drew her gaze to him. "There's another ghost."
"Honey—"
"He comes in the room at night." Kahl shuddered. "I seen him a coupla times."
"Kahl, you were dreaming," Laura said softly. She reached out and affectionately ruffled the boy's red-gold mop of hair.
"He's shriveled up," Kevin added, his grave tone causing a chill of alarm to pass through her. "I seen him, too. He stands at the end of the bed, looking at us when he thinks we're asleep."
"Kevin, you're frightening your brothers."
His small shoulders drew in. "Last night I told him to go back through the wall."
"The wall?"
"Yeah. The big thing where we put our clothes? It kinda swings out, like the shelf-thing in the library. He comes through there."
Although Laura's blood felt as cold as ice, she forced a smile for the boys' benefit. "You're letting your imagination get the better of you."
"Uh-uh." Alby snuggled close to her left side. "He told us to leave. He sca-wed me."
Placing her arm about the youngest boy's shoulders, she assessed Kahl and Kevin for several long moments.
"You and Mr. Ingliss were in the hall talking lovey-dovey," Kevin grimaced. "Make love to me, Roan," he mimicked then gave a theatrical roll of his eyes. "Barf talk. He got lucky, huh?"
"Kevin!"
"What? We used to hear Carrie bonk her boyfriend all the time. No big deal."
Crimson rushed into Laura's cheeks. "Carrie better hope I never run across her again," she muttered.
"She was okay," Kevin said with a shrug. "She had this cool thing she'd tell Yanks she'd meet." Affecting a parody of her voice and accent, he went on, "In York, a road is a gate, a gate is a bar, and a bar is a pub."
Alby and Kahl laughed. Laura couldn't help but grin.
"Where is York?" she asked the boy.
"England, I think. My dad said he'd take us there to the museums, but he never did."
"You must miss him."
Kevin, his face devoid of expression, shrugged. "Not really."
"He didn't like us," Kahl informed with equal aloofness.
"I'm sure your father loved all three of you."
"Naw." Kahl swiped a hand beneath his nose. "He thought we were too noisy."
"And too wound up," Kevin added.
"But—"
Laura bit back her question when she heard a door slide open. Gasping, she passed Kevin her teacup and jumped to her feet.
Four people emerged from the library. Forcing her suddenly heavy legs to move, she approached them. Roan was the first to notice her. Of the four, he alone appeared rattled by something. She somehow knew it had nothing to do with her or her nephews. The other man was laughing as he spoke to an elderly woman, his arm draped possessively about the shoulders of the woman from the portrait.
Several feet away from them, Laura came to a halt. Roan came toward her. It was all she could do not to turn and run, avoid the humiliation his presence rekindled. His movements slower than usual, he positioned himself alongside her, and lightly placed a hand on her arm.
Clenching her teeth against a retort, she peered at him. Despite the hurt and anger gnawing at her nerves, her heart skipped a beat. Her throat tightened. Psychological heaviness filled her lungs. Submitting to the powerful chemistry his proximity evoked, she lowered her gaze.
So as not to draw attention to herself, she attempted to ease her arm from beneath his touch. His fingers tightened. She looked at him again with every intention of sending him a visual warning to back off, but again the sight of him staring into her eyes disarmed her.
For a moment, she thought he was about to say something to her. Not another false apology, she hoped in the deepest recesses of her heart. Her temper would flare, and a scene would ensue. Instead, his gaze swung to the trio a few feet away.
"Lannie."
At his beckoning, Lachlan Baird's dark gaze targeted Laura. A secretive smile curved up the chiseled mouth. He winked to the woman within his hold, then dipped his head and whispered something to the elderly woman.
Laura painfully swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Who are these people?
She was at their mercy, and she didn't like it one bit. Never before had she been so aware of her sheltered existence prior to this trip. With the loss of her daily routine in the states, she was utterly at odds with herself.
Put her in an office and she could tackle anything that came her way. Within the sterile, meticulous confines of her apartment, she excelled in utilizing her time among her various hobbies. Art. Music. Reading. Needlework.
Here, she was nobody. She had no more identity than her nephews. One Yank among many who'd come to this land.
She stiffened when the three came toward her. The dark eyes studying her, although friendly on the surface, seemed to penetrate to her core. Unwittingly, she pressed closer to Roan, her hands clutching his arm.
"Good morn, Miss Bennett," the laird said charmingly. "Ye're lookin' much better than when I first laid ma eyes on you."
"He was the first to arrive efter yer accident," Roan explained.
Laura's fingers kneaded the muscular arm within her hold. "I need to locate a phone."
"Aye, but as Roan has explained, lass, the lines are down."
"Surely, not everywhere!"
Beth leaned to and asked the older woman, "Miss Cooke, is your phone working, yet?"
"No, I'm afraid not." Her pale gaze shifted to the stranger, then beyond to where the boys were watching from the bottom of the staircase.
"Perhaps, Miss Cooke, you would be kind enough to call the American Consulate when the lines come on?" Lachlan asked her.
"Of course." Her bemused expression melted to one of deep compassion for Laura. "You poor dear. I'll let you know as soon as the lines are in working order."
"Damn me," Roan muttered, then, "Laura, this is Lachlan Baird, Beth Staples, and Viola Cooke."
Laura offered them a stilted nod.
"The lads," Roan went on, glancing over his shoulder, "are Kevin, Kahl and Alby."
Viola beamed them a grandmotherly smile. "Such handsome boys," she crooned.
"Little devils," Roan murmured. Clearing his throat, he asked Viola, "Could you also call ma Aunt Aggie and let her know I'm all right?"
"Of course, Mr. Ingliss." Viola's bright eyes peered up at the laird. "Could I stay a spell and play with the boys?" She looked at Laura. "There are all sorts of toys in the attic." Her gaze shifted to the boys. "We could pick out a few and bring them down to the library. Would you like that?"
Kevin, followed by his brothers, eagerly came forward. "Toys, huh?"
"Lots of toys."
"Goofy stuff, I bet," Kahl grumbled.
"Let's find out, shall we?"
When Lachlan and Laura nodded their approval, Viola merrily urged the boys toward the staircase. "Now we must stay together," she said, heading up the stairs with them. "You wouldn't want me to get lost in this big old house, would you?"
"Relax, Laura," Beth said kindly, drawing the woman's troubled gaze to her. "This will give us a chance to talk. Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Lannie—" Roan scowled at the couple across from him. "Now would be a bloody good time to show Laura yer stuff—if you get ma drift."
"Not now," Beth chided.
"I agree," sighed Lachlan, and smiled at his guest. "Tis true, though, the roads are too bad to travel, Miss Bennett. We'll get you to Edinburgh as soon as possible."
"Lannie," Roan growled.
"But...." Laura gestured toward the staircase. "She managed to get here. The roads can't be that bad."
"Miss Cooke doesna live far," Lachlan explained. "Edinburgh's a fair travel, even in a mot
or car." A twinkle in his eyes, he glanced at Roan. "Has no' the new master o’ Baird house made yer stay comfortable?"
New master?
Her stomach knotting, she spared Roan a scowl. "He's been most...generous."
"Generous," Roan parroted, an edge to his tone. "For pity sake, mon, tell her!" His eyes sent a mute plea to Lachlan. "She no' only thinks me a liar but a womonizer!"
"If the shoe fits," Laura clipped.
Clicking his tongue, Lachlan shook his head. "Ingliss, ma friend, I think you need to work on yer approach."
"You swine—"
"No' in the company o' the ladies," Lachlan grinned. "Beth, darlin', try to put Miss Bennett's mind to ease. Roan.... A walk in the morn's chill will do you good."
Glaring down at Laura, Roan retorted, "I've had all the fresh air a mon can take in one day."
"Come along, Laura," Beth said lightly. "I'll fix us something hot to drink."
Trailing behind her hostess, Laura stopped long enough to retrieve her teacup from the bottom step. She didn't know what to think about the foursome. Part of her wanted to believe that the roads were truly hazardous, but another part, conditioned from watching too many movies, held their motives suspect.
She and the boys could...disappear...and who would know?
Would Allen Treddock, her boss, think to question her extended absence, or would he simply replace her with one of the 'hopefuls'?
Withdrawing from her grim thoughts, she seated herself at the kitchen table and took a long look at the woman refilling a teapot at the sink.
Is Roan having an affair with this woman?
The thought pained her more than she cared to admit.
The other woman was striking. Taller and shapelier than Laura. Her movements were carefree, graceful. Confident.
A pang of jealousy stabbed at Laura. Something else that was normally alien to her character.
"We're not lovers," Beth said, lighting a burner beneath the pot.
A chill erupted within Laura's chest and swiftly coursed through her. Her fingers curled against her palms, the manicured fingernails digging into her flesh.
Was the woman a mind reader, or responding to Laura's inauspicious return to Roan's room last night?
Turning to face the blonde, Beth folded her arms against her chest. "I love Lachlan, Laura. There'll never be anyone else for me."
"I saw you—"
"In Roan's arms?" With a low laugh, Beth crossed the kitchen and seated herself across from Laura. "I was upset, and he was simply consoling me."
Laura couldn't bring herself to meet the other woman's gaze. "It's really none of my business."
"May I ask you a personal question?"
The green eyes cast a furtive look at Beth.
"You're attracted to Roan."
Deep color spread across Laura's cheeks. "I thought you were going to ask me a question, not make a statement."
"Forgive me. Are you attracted to him?"
"I don't know you." Laura forced herself to meet the blue eyes watching her. "And I don't care to know you. I just want to return to the States with my nephews."
An understanding smile softened Beth's mouth. "There was a time, not long ago, I wanted to run away from this house, too. I'm glad I didn't."
"Well, I'm not you, am I?" Laura closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. "I just want to go home."
"Roan and I were discussing fate, last night."
"Whose?"
Beth again laughed, drawing Laura's despondent gaze to her. "His and yours, mostly. Do you believe in magic?"
The question struck Laura as humorous. "No. Magic is for dreamers."
A glow of enigmatic wistfulness appeared on Beth's face. "Magic is mostly for disbelievers, Laura. I should know.
"You and I may walk different paths, but we're a lot alike." Planting an elbow on the table, Beth rested her chin in the upturned palm. "Sometimes fate deals us a left-field hand. You have to learn to trust the dictates of your heart, Laura. It may tell you that you are already home."
It was on the tip of Laura's tongue to tell the woman that she was insane, but she bit the words back.
Until the weather cleared, she was stuck within these walls.
What would Beth Staples say if Laura told her that Roan had said she was a ghost?
"Miss Staples—"
"Please...call me Beth."
A strained smile came and went from Laura's mouth. "Beth, I can't help but feel helpless in this situation."
"You're not helpless. Laura, I don't blame you for feeling out of place and trapped. The truth is, you couldn't have stumbled across a safer haven. Put your fears to rest. When the roads are safe to travel, we'll see to it that you and the boys make it to Edinburgh."
The doubt in the green eyes prompted Beth to add, "Just trust your instincts."
The kettle began to whistle. Beth left her chair. When she reached for a potholder on a hook to the left of the stove, her hand passed through it. The whistling grew louder. Quelling a stab of alarm, she forced a smile and turned to her guest.
"Laura, I have to run. Help yourself to whatever you need." She ran toward the parlor door. "Sorry about this."
Several seconds later, Laura rose to her feet. Cloaked in blessed numbness, she turned off the burner then stared for a time at the door the woman had passed through.
Was it her imagination, or were the members of this household completely unpredictable?
"My instincts tell me to run and never look back," she murmured. "What do you think of that, Beth Staples?"
* * *
Roan tired of biding his time out in the snow-covered east gardens. Brushing aside the downy substance on the wide lower lip of the two-tier fountain, he seated himself and stared off across the landscape. Even with thermals, Lachlan's clothing, and his lined coat, the morning coldness permeated the marrow of his bones.
He was the master of Baird house?
How was it possible that he could feel so...frightened...of such a magnanimous gift?
"Ye're losin' yerself, mon," he said sadly, staring into nothingness. "The events o' late have forced you to experience the pains o' the heart again. It’s no' like I breenge. I've never been a rash mon."
Sighing deeply, he rubbed his icy hands up and down his face. "Trouble wi' people is," he sighed again, lowering his hands to his lap, "they can't understand tha' an achin’ heart bends to no hurt, no matter the force o' the deliverance."
"Aye, but a heart o' oak can splinter."
Roan looked up and frowned at Lachlan, who stood an arm's length away. Coatless, his full sleeves flapping in the flurry-ridden breeze, he grinned before sitting alongside Roan.
"Take it from me, ma friend, self-counsel can drive you up a wall."
Despite himself, Roan smiled. "You know tha' for a fact?"
Releasing a woebegone sigh, Lachlan nodded. "Aye. Self-counsel and women. Brrr. Ye're bloody damned if you do and bloody damned if you dinna."
Roan laughed.
A sly gleam stole into the dark eyes. "Course, now, we're better off than ma friend Braussaw there."
His gaze following the direction in which Lachlan pointed, Roan searched until he focused on what he was sure was the object of Lachlan's statement. Perched in front of a barren azalea bush was a partially, snow-blanketed peacock.
Roan gulped.
"Earlier, I came ou' to check on him." Lachlan lazily scratched beneath his chin. "I thought at first he'd frozen to daith, then it hit me. Ma bloody bird's full o' sawdust. Imagine tha'."
Drawing in a fortifying breath, Roan forced himself to look Lachlan in the eye. "He got under the wheel o' ma van."
A dark eyebrow lifted.
"At the time, old mon, you and I weren't on the friendliest o' terms."
"So you had ma bird stuffed?"
Roan shrugged. "He's a bloody sight quieter than the ithers."
"Aye." A grin cracked through Lachlan's soberness. "Aye, he is. However, Roan, try to spare the it
hers. The birds have been here for mair generations than I can count."
Roan nodded.
"Now, suppose you talk to me abou' yer troubles."
"Nothin’ to say, really."
Lachlan grimaced. "Tis me ye're talkin' ta. By the way, she is pretty." He grinned broadly. "And stubborn."
"Laura?" Straightening back his shoulders, Roan frowned. "Can't say as I blame her. It must be scary to find yerself dependent on strangers."
"Fond o' her, are you?"
The gentleness in Lachlan's tone, further unsettled Roan. "I'd have to be dead no' to notice such a fine-lookin' lass."
"Fegs, mon!" Lachlan laughed, clapping Roan none-too-gently on the back. "Wha's dead got to do wi' anythin'?"
Roan blushed, a smile twitching on his lips. "I keep forgettin'. Sorry."
"I dinna mind. Truth be, I sometimes forget, maself." Suddenly serious, he went on, "Alive or dead, a mon must face his fears, Roan. You'll be a fit master o' ma home, I've no doubts in tha' respect."
"But...?"
Lachlan looked deep within the soft brown eyes. "Yer personal life is anither matter."
"None o' yer business."
"You've made it so."
"No. You like to sick yer nose where it doesn't belong."
"Perhaps, but I never interfere unless tis somethin' tha' affects me personally. Roan, ma lad, I never faithered a child, so I can only imagine the loss you've suffered. But I do know somethin' o' pain, and how it embitters the soul. You've got yer whole life ahead o' you. Start anew. If you keep ignorin' the opportunities passin' you by, you'll wake one morn and wonder who be the old mon starin' back at you in the mirror."
"I've lived alone too long."
"Tis never too late to embrace life."
"No?" Resting his elbows atop his knees, Roan shook his head. "I don't know how."
Lachlan released a long, impatient sigh. "Ye're an arse, mon."
Straightening, Roan narrowed his eyes on Lachlan. "At least I'm an honest one."
"Dinna get yer breeks in an uproar. I'm only tryin' to offer you—"
"Advice?" Standing, Roan placed his hands on his hips and scowled at the laird. "Yer bloody advice got me kneed in the groin!"
Lachlan grinned. "Aye, and you took it like a real mon."
"No. I hit the ground like a mon in excruciating pain! Och, damn me." He sliced a hand through the air then trenched his fingers through his damp hair. "I shouldn't listen to you. I don't know wha' women in yer time were like, but the modern womon does no' appreciate bein' cornered."
Dawns Everlastin' (former title: Dusk Before Dawn) Book 2 Page 10
