Love Beyond Dreams (A Scottish Time Travel Romance): Book 6 (Morna's Legacy Series)

by Bethany Claire

  Our last stop was the tower. Since it was separated from most of the other rooms, I didn’t hesitate to light up the stairwell leading to it with the modern lighting. As soon as I flipped the switch, Cooper spoke.

  “Oh man, that sure helps a lot. I wonder if that had been here the last time I was here, if Isobel would’ve fallen.”

  “Who’s Isobel?”

  Cooper smiled and surprised me by reaching for my hand as we started to walk up the stairs. I didn’t know if he offered it for my own benefit or his, but I took it without question.

  “Oh, she’s a good friend, and she’s sort of my boss.”

  “Your boss? You have a job?”

  “Not a real job. I don’t get paid money. It’s sort of a work for sweets situation. I go each day, even when my Aunt Jane is away with Adwen. Ever since I turned six, my parents started letting me ride alone as long as they watch me until I get there. Anyway, I go every day for just a few hours and help her with some chores and, before I leave, she always gives me something sweet.”

  I laughed and let loose of his hand when we reached the top landing, speaking to him as I walked to turn on the light in the tower. “Well that sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Do you ever…”

  I stopped mid-sentence when I turned to see the way he looked at the painting sitting in the middle of the room—still on its easel, freshly painted and perfect. The child turned white as a ghost, and his lower lip trembled as he looked at it and backed himself up against the wall.

  He didn’t look frightened, only shocked and confused. When he finally managed the strength to speak, his voice was shaky and breathless as he lifted one little finger to point at my stranger.

  “Who is that?”

  I watched him carefully. He looked so shaken. I didn’t want to upset him by anything I said. Before answering, I approached him slowly. When I stood next to him, I bent to lower myself to his level.

  “The man in the painting? I don’t know who he is.”

  Cooper waited and finally he pulled his gaze away from the painting as he turned to face me. His eyes were brimming with tears that were about to fall, and I found myself reaching for him as I pulled him in close.

  “Cooper, what’s the matter? Do you want me to take it down? I can cover it with something if it will make you feel better. Is it frightening to you?”

  “No.”

  There was a panic in his voice as he answered, a certainty that told me the last thing he wanted me to do was cover it.

  “No, don’t take it away. I love it. It just…it just surprised me real bad is all.”

  He lifted himself off my shoulder but kept hold of my hand with one of his own while he reached into one of his pockets with the other.

  “I can see that. Why did it surprise you? Do you know who this is?”

  He nodded and held out a small, smooth wooden chip. I took it and looked down in astonishment.

  It was my stranger, the man I’d painted, carved with remarkable detail into the wood.

  “Yes. I know who it is. It’s Orick.”

  So many months of wondering who the man was that came to me in my dreams every single night and now, the child standing next to me knew exactly who he was.

  I looked down at my arm. Every hair stood on its end. Chills coursed through my body.

  “Who is Orick?”

  “He was my buddy, my friend, and so many people loved him very much.”

  I didn’t doubt it. The kindness in his eyes haunted me every moment I was asleep. Whatever woman belonged to him was remarkable lucky.

  “If you love him so much, why does the painting upset you?”

  Cooper looked me right in the eye as he pulled at my hand.

  “It doesn’t, it just makes me sad. Why did you paint him? How did you know what he looked like?”

  How could I explain what I’d seen night after night when I couldn’t explain it to myself? The child would think I was absolutely out of my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him anything but the truth.

  “I don’t know exactly. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen this man a lot in my dreams, so I decided to paint him—to make him real. But now, hearing you, it seems that I didn’t have to do that because he is already real, isn’t he?”

  “He was real and he was a good, good man, just like my dad and Bebop and E-o and Adwen. But, he’s gone now.”

  I asked the question before his words clicked inside my brain. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

  Cooper’s lip trembled and his tears fell freely as his voice trembled.

  “He’s dead.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Marion’s Cave

  1649

  He should have known better than to tell Marion what he’d seen. She was a recluse who lived her life away from all people because of a mistrust of them so deep that he couldn’t imagine what happened to make her that way. Of course, she wouldn’t be filled with the same sense of wonder and curiosity that he was at what he’d witnessed.

  “Doona go near it. ’Tis my advice for ye. No that I expect ye to listen to a word that I say. ’Twill only cause ye heartache if ye do. ’Tis the way of such unnatural things.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the side of the cave, hanging onto his patience as best he could.

  “Yer guidance means much to me, Marion, whether I choose to listen to it or no. Tell me why. Why should I no follow after the others? Why is heartache the only end?”

  Marion exhaled in the same frustrated manner she always did when he disagreed with her.

  “Ye just told me that ye watched them walk down the stairs, and they did no come up through the other side, nor did they come out where they went in. Just where do ye think such a staircase could lead when ye saw for yerself that no room lay at the bottom? ’Tis a witch’s den. She’s already picked the meat from their bones and added them to her stew.”

  He laughed so loudly that the sound echoed from the walls. Marion glared at him angrily.

  “Marion, doona tell such tales, they’ll frighten ye when I’m no longer here with ye. They walked into the stairwell with purpose. They knew where it would take them. I know that ye think it no wise, but I…I canna describe it.”

  He paused and paced around the cave, remembering how his feet had nearly moved toward them against his will.

  “’Twas like they called me toward them. In that moment when I saw them, I wanted nothing more than to run and join them, to follow them wherever they might be headed. I canna describe it, but I feel pulled to them, like perhaps they have the answers I seek.”

  For the first time that evening, Marion stopped twiddling away at the piece of wood she held in her hands and stopped to regard him seriously.

  “Do ye mean it? Ye felt so strongly about the people ye saw there? Do ye think mayhap ye would have felt the same with whomever ye saw first after leaving here?”

  He shrugged. He asked himself the same thing on his way back to the cave the night before, but the more he allowed the question to linger, the more his mind rebelled against it. The truth was making its way to the surface of his mind. He could feel it building within him. He just couldn’t grasp at it alone. All he needed was to find the keys to unlock it, the people to remind him of the memories he lost.

  The strange-speaking women and the men that accompanied them pulled at something inside him that made him wonder if they were those very keys.

  “I canna know, but I doona think so. I felt as if I knew them, but I couldna recall any real memory of them. I just know that I feel strongly that the stairwell is where I must start.”

  He moved across the small expanse of the cave and sat down next to Marion. Her gaze softened as he did so.

  They sat quietly next to one another for a long time until, finally, Marion spoke.

  “Then start there, ye must, whether it be a witch’s den or no. ’Tis time, Craig. Time for the two of us to part ways.”

  He stood with a sadness in his heart he couldn’
t deny. All of his memories were of Marion—there was nothing else inside his mind. He wondered often if he meant as much to her as she did to him, if she would grieve for the end of their friendship as he would. She spoke little about her feelings, but he knew that didn’t mean she was void of them.

  “I will miss ye, Marion. If I pass this way again, should I come to see ye?”

  “No.”

  The abruptness of her answer pained him.

  “I willna be here. This cave was no my first home, nor will it be my last. I move often and ’tis time that I move on. I was on my way elsewhere when I saw ye fall.”

  All of that was new to him. Foolishly, he imagined Marion spending a great many years in the cave, and now he learned that she may have only been here a fortnight when he arrived.

  He would feel lost once he left her—without her, every person in the world would be a stranger to him.

  “Marion, ye canna know how grateful I am to ye. I wish I could repay ye for all ye’ve done for me.”

  She shook her head and moved to stand at the entrance of the cave as if waiting for him to leave. Her shortness bothered him. That she could say so little in their last moment together. He said nothing, only made his way past her, stopping to lean in and kiss her cheek before stepping away and out of the cave.

  For the first few steps, he thought she would allow him to leave without another word but eventually, she called out to him. He turned to look at his friend one last time.

  There were tears in her eyes, a sight he’d never seen before. He moved in to comfort her, but she held a hand up to stop him.

  “Ye must go, Craig. If ever ye find a group of people who care for ye more than I, doona ye dare leave them, for ye will be a lucky man.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Present Day

  Cooper’s revelation freaked me out enough that I spent the rest of the day in the solitude of my bedroom wondering if Aiden was right. Could Cagair Castle really be haunted? But did ghosts usually visit people in their dreams? I didn’t know, having no experience with anything paranormal myself. Regardless, the idea that I’d been daydreaming, night-dreaming, painting, and fantasizing about a dead man gave me the heebie-jeebies worse than walking in on my aunt and uncle getting busy in my grandparents’ lake house.

  And the thing was, no one else had seen this man around the castle. Not the construction workers, or Aiden, or Anne. So what did that say about me? Was I crazy, or was it not so much the castle that was haunted but just me? The entire thing was unsettling and, really, rather embarrassing. I’d spent hours upon hours reading nonsense into my dreams—hoping, wondering if perhaps I was somehow meant to know this man—that maybe in another life, or just later in this one, I might love him. Any chance of that happening was clearly now shot to hell.

  I spent a miserable night trying to stay awake and then, in the end, fell asleep only to have the same beautiful dead man hanging out behind my eyelids. Come morning, exhausted and rather peeved, I went to check in on Aiden to see if he needed anything now that Anne had left for the day to go and check on things back at their real home.

  I found him already awake, dressed, and sitting at the end of his bed slipping on shoes as if he were about to head to work. That so wasn’t going to happen today. If I allowed it, I would never hear the end of it from Anne.

  “How are you feeling? Whatever you say, I know it’s not well enough to be slipping on your work boots.”

  He stilled his hands on the laces of his shoes and lifted himself so that he could cross his arms and stare back at me.

  “My wife just left. I can do without ye bossing me around, as well. I feel fine, a bit sore but better than yesterday.”

  Yesterday, after the copious amount of drugs he took the day of surgery, had been miserable for the poor guy. Anne restricted the pain pills, and he’d not felt like doing anything but lying around and having her baby him.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling a little better, but I don’t think you need to do any work today. The construction crew can’t come back until after everybody leaves so just take it easy for a while, yeah? Think of it as a little vacation.”

  He could see that he fought a losing battle and kicked his shoes off with a frown.

  “I doona want another ‘vacation.’ The last dinna go well.”

  I grinned and stepped inside the room, moving to sit on a small bench opposite him.

  “Yeah, it was awful mean what she did to you. Though, I’m sure she’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  Aiden lifted his eyebrows mischievously. “Aye, I’ll make sure she does. What are ye doing here, Gillian? I expected ye’d already have half a canvas painted by now.”

  “I’m going to take a break from painting during the day for a while. Let our guests have their run of the place. I’m just trying to stay out of their way. They all seem very preoccupied preparing for whoever they are hosting here tonight.” I paused and bit my lip as I tried to approach the strange subject with Aiden. Eventually, I decided to just go for it. “Hey, you want to hear something really creepy?”

  He smiled with wide eyes. “Aye, always.”

  “Okay, so you know that painting you commented on the other day? The one of the man?”

  “Mr. Needs-To-Eat-More-Cookies-And-Less-Protein-Shakes? Aye, I remember the painting. What about it?”

  I laughed at Aiden’s description of him. The same thought had crossed my mind more than a few times—the man’s body fat had to be like some sort of ridiculous negative percentage.

  “Well, I’ve been dreaming about him, you know? And, yesterday morning, I bumped into the small kid that’s here—Cooper? You probably don’t remember his name since you were high as a kite when they got here but anyway, he wanted me to show him around the castle, so I did, and…” I hesitated, chills scattering over my arms just thinking back on it. “When he saw the painting, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

  Aiden’s brows pulled in and his smile faded. “Why would he do that?”

  “He knew the man in the painting. He knew him very well. That man is dead now.”

  “Aye, ye were no joking when ye said creepy.”

  “I know.” My voice lifted an octave as I answered him. “I don’t know what to think about it. I dreamed about him last night again too.”

  “Do ye think Cagair was his home? Maybe ye should switch bedrooms?”

  I shook my head and stood to move around the room in an effort to calm my nerves. “I don’t think that he did, but I don’t know. I didn’t ask the boy anything more. It seemed to upset him so much. I just sort of dropped it and brought him back downstairs.”

  “Ask the lad’s parents.”

  I couldn’t do that. I already promised Cooper that I wouldn’t.

  “I can’t. He thought the painting would upset his Aunt Jane and Uncle Adwen even more than it did him. He didn’t want anyone else to know about it.”

  Aiden reached up to rub his hand over his face like he always did when he was thinking something over. When he spoke, his tone was entirely serious.

  “He’s trying to tell ye something, Gillian. Ye’ve got to listen to him. It’s the only way he will leave ye alone.”

  “But he never says anything. I just see him. I don’t know how I could listen to him any more. I dream about him. I’ve painted him. If he’s a ghost, why doesn’t he just act like a normal one and stay out of my head and show up in the hallway?”

  Aiden stood and walked over to look down the hallway as if he thought my words would summon the man straight from his grave. “Doona say that unless ye mean it. Ye shouldna invite them in. Enough wander this world on their own as it is.”

  “I do mean it. I’m tired of this and more than a little freaked out by it now that I know this man is dead and not my soul mate.”

  Aiden laughed, easing the creepy tension that had built quickly.

  “Yer soul mate? Why I wouldna have picked ye to be the kind to think of something so fanciful. If he were yer so
ul mate, he wouldna be dead, and ye’d be far more likely to meet him in an airport rather than yer dreams.”

  My face warmed in embarrassment. “Yeah, well obviously, I know that now but at first, it seemed logical.”

  Aiden shook his head in amusement. It made me want to jab him in the cheek with one of my fingers, just to aggravate his sore teeth.

  “Logical? Ha. There is nothing logical about ye women folk.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. Now, knowing what I did, it seemed ridiculous.

  “Okay, I regret having told you any of that, frankly. Let’s just move on from it.”

  Aiden started to speak but stopped as someone cleared his throat in the doorway. It was Adwen, Jane’s husband who I’d been formally introduced to the day before. He looked concerned, and he started talking as soon as we both noticed him.

  “I am sorry to interrupt the two of ye, but I’m afraid that I’ve received some bad news and must leave at once.”

  I stood and made my way over to him. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I doona think so, but thank ye for the offer. ’Tis my brother and Da. They travel often and I doona worry, but they dinna arrive where they were meant to over a fortnight ago. My other brother is leaving this evening to go in search of them, and I doona feel that I should leave him to go alone.”

  “Of course not. Are the others leaving as well?” Two weeks seemed like a very long time for people to be missing and there just now to be concern over it, but evidently news traveled a little more slowly amongst Cagair Castle’s newest guests.

  “No, this is too important to Jane and Grace, and I’m sure no harm has come to them. I wager they just changed their minds about where they were headed and either dinna send word to those expecting them or they sent a man to give word of their new direction and he dinna do as he was asked.”