by Vonnie Davis
“Aye. I’d noticed it was gone from yer finger. It’s a rather ostentatious ring. One that draws the eye, both when it’s worn and when it’s missing.” She jerked her chin toward Paisley’s hand. “I see ye wear it now. What had ye angry enough to return it?” Fiona watched Paisley over the rim of her cup as she drank.
She lifted a shoulder and reached for another brownie. “I felt excluded from all the wedding preparations. Creighton chose the date, when to announce our betrothal, and whom to invite to the wedding.” She licked a crumb from her thumb. “All I have to do is show up and break the curse.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “That damn curse. It took me husband, and every day since I’ve feared it would take me eldest son next. As his thirtieth birthday approaches, I’ve been an emotional mess. I fear every time I look at him it’ll be me last and yet I canna show me private terrors.” She tilted her head to the side and stared at Paisley. “Do ye feel we’re using ye? That we don’t truly care about ye as a person? ’Cause that’s how I’d probably feel if I were in yer shoes.”
Some of the tenseness in her shoulders eased. Fiona was easy to talk to. “I’m not sure. Doesn’t it seem strange to you how this all worked out? That I would come here to Mathe Bay right before Creighton’s thirtieth birthday.” Blaire and her gum popping came to mind. “Before he proposed to another woman.”
“You mean like that self-centered Blaire?” Fiona set her cup in its saucer. “She was someone to pass time with. He never brought her here to meet the family. I only heard about their dating through her mother’s gossiping.”
A breeze of cold air skittered across Paisley’s skin as Ainsley shimmered around the ceiling. She hovered next to the fireplace. “The spirits brought ye to us.”
Neither Paisley nor Fiona reacted to the ghost beyond the breath of surprise at a third voice in the room.
Imagine, getting used to ghosts popping in and out. Who would have guessed?
Ainsley warmed her hands by the fire. “I hate being a ghost. I’m always so cold. As I was saying, Paisley, you coming to us was a collective effort. One soul was sacrificed to bring ye here.” Her head swiveled on her shoulders so her gaze connected with Paisley’s. “Ye are the one we all need.”
Comprehension seized Paisley, and tremors shuddered through her from her head to her feet. “A … A soul was sacrificed?” More cramps seized her abdomen and she bent over, hugging herself. “Angus?”
“Enough, Ainsley. Ye’ve upset our Paisley.” Fiona hurried around the desk and embraced her. “Honey, Angus had cancer. Had it for nearly two years. Pay no attention to what our resident ghost says.”
The spirit wove around them, slithering like a vaporous snake until her vacant eyes bore into Paisley’s. “Ghosts don’t lie. Once the curse is broken, maybe Broden and I can rest in peace. So much depends on ye.” Her head angled toward the hidden door. “Bryce is coming.”
Fiona rushed to the bookshelves and depressed the button. The shelves swung inward and heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs. Bryce’s bear charged into the study. Creigh’s been shot. Bad. He collapsed onto the floor, panting. Ro … Ronan’s with him … and Effie.
Paisley knelt at his side, noting his respiration. “He needs water. Quickly.” She counted his pulse at his neck. It was weak. She hated to overtax him, still she had to know. “Bryce, how bad is Creighton hurt? Is Gram okay?”
Fiona grabbed a bottle of water from the bar and twisted its cap. She hurried to sit next to Bryce’s head and poured the liquid into his open mouth. Paisley grabbed the rest of the brownies. He needed food.
Fiona’s forehead was wrinkled and her eyes frantic. “What did he say to you? I was never part of this silent communication my sons have going on. I’m glad you understand.”
Paisley looked at Fiona through a veil of tears. “Creighton’s been shot.”
The older woman started to cry. She tugged a hankie from her pants pocket and dabbed her eyes. A sob shuddered from her as a hand stroked Bryce’s head. “Me eldest has been hurt and me youngest lies limp in front of me.”
Three … three times. Bryce gulped more water. Effie’s okay. Roughed up. Have Mum call Earnan and Kendric. Ronan and Hamish have four prisoners.
Oh, dear God. “Creighton’s been shot three times. Gram’s okay. Bryce wants you to call Earnan and Kendric.”
Second cave from the pathway near the cliffs.
As she fed the bear the brownies, she relayed the directions to Fiona who had her cell phone in her trembling hand. The older woman shook her head. “No. No, this can’t be happening. That damn curse canna take me son. It canna.”
“Language.” Ainsley swished about in spectral nervousness.
“Butt out, ye simple spirit. I’ve got a life-or-death emergency here.”
Bryce licked his bloody paws. Paisley retrieved ice cubes from the bar refrigerator along with a bar rag. She quickly tended to his wounds. How did these injuries happen? From running so hard to get here?
Aye. We canna lose him. He rested his raw paw on her arm. He’s loved ye since the moment ye fainted at his feet. His breathing came more regular. He’s our laird, me brother, and me hero. We canna lose him to that curse.
Paisley breathed deep and made a decision. “We need a minister or a judge who can perform a ceremony. I’m going to marry Creighton as soon as possible. I’m not losing him to a bullet or another woman or any damn curse.”
“Language, dear.”
“Ainsley, we dinna have time fer yer sensitivities. Go get Broden. Leave us. Now.” The room warmed and Fiona leaned over Bryce, her arm around his neck and her face in his fur. “Thank ye.” She shuddered as she sobbed. “Ye did a good thing and I’m proud of ye. Grandpa Broden will keep ye company. Paisley and I need to see to Creighton and Effie. I love ye, baby boy.” A soft purr rumbled from his throat and she kissed him between the eyes before standing. “I’m going for first-aid supplies and me coat. I willna be but a minute or two.”
“Make sure you pack water and honey for Creighton.” Paisley scratched behind Bryce’s ears. “I’ll always be grateful for what you did tonight. You’ve overtaxed yourself to reach us so quickly. Sleep now.” He nodded and rolled onto his side, knees drawn to his stomach.
She ran upstairs for warm clothes and shoes for Gram. From a closet, she grabbed a couple of blankets. With determination, she willed Creighton to survive.
A few minutes later, Fiona leaned over the steering wheel as the Land Rover jostled along the bridge. “Of all nights for fog to roll in from the bay. Relax, hon.” She patted Paisley’s hand. “I’m used to it. Bullocks. I forgot. We have an American guest coming in tomorrow. He’s from your state, in fact.”
“He’s my ex-fiancé.”
Fiona’s head snapped in her direction.
“Why do you think Creighton proposed so quickly? He was in a jealous snit.” She touched her engagement ring. “Alex’s impending arrival is what drove him over the edge.”
An alabaster owl sat in the middle of the road and Fiona braked. Paisley lowered her window. Could you move, please? We have an emergency.
I’m taking you to Creighton. Time is critical. Follow me through the mist. I am the bears’s protector and your guide.
“He’s here to guide us through the fog.”
The owl took flight and Fiona followed. The bird kept its pace about ten feet in front of the vehicle, flying low so he was always in sight.
“Having a cailleach-oidhche direct us is a bit of a stretch, but I must admit I’m grateful fer the help. Duff always told me they were magical. The road to the shoreline is narrow and tortuous. And the fog grows thicker the closer we get.” Fiona uncoiled her white-knuckled grip from the steering wheel to push hair from her forehead. “God, what a night. ’Tis feckin’ surreal. Thank goodness it’ll be sunrise soon.”
“Do you think it was Malcolm who shot Creighton? I hated to keep questioning Bryce. He was almost in shock.”
Fiona braked around a sharp curve and groaned
. “I hate this road when it’s foggy. As for who shot me son, we’ll find out soon enough. Kendric will see justice is served.”
Paisley’s stomach cramped again. Would they ever reach the bay and Creighton and Gram? When they finally accessed the beach area, Fiona parked the car next to a police car. She and Paisley grabbed boxes of supplies and hustled for the cave, the owl still leading their way. “I was hoping Earnan would be here by now.” Fiona surveyed the area as she ran.
The owl led them to the cave, circled three times and flew away.
Fiona entered first. “Me sons played in here when they were growing up. Their father and his friends before them.”
Paisley hurried to keep up, fearful of what she’d find.
The tunnel opened into a large stone chamber. As soon as she entered the long, narrow cavity, the coppery stench of blood assaulted her nose. Blood and body tissue were splattered on the wall behind a lifeless form. Creighton, unconscious, lay in a pool of blood. Gram sat next to him, rubbing his head. Ronan’s bear pressed someone’s shirt against one of his brother’s wounds. Kendric had two bare-chested men in handcuffs, questioning them and writing down their responses. A couple of other males were clawed and mangled, their moans and cries jangling her nerves. Another bear sat in front of the men, clearly on guard duty.
My God, what happened here?
Fiona rushed to Creighton’s side and Paisley quickly followed.
Ronan glanced at them with mournful eyes. Tell me Mum he’s hurt bad. Tell her I tried to warn him, but the fukin’ thug got to his gun and it happened so damn fast.
When Paisley relayed the message, Fiona wrapped her arms around the large bear and kissed his fur. “I know ye, son. I know ye did everything ye could.”
Ronan clicked his tongue in response.
Paisley checked Creighton’s pulse. It was weak and sporadic. There were wounds to his shoulder, chest, and abdomen. “There’s so much blood.” I’m here, love. Don’t leave me. Although she hadn’t expected a response, she was saddened further when none came.
“It’s my fault he’s hurt.” Gram’s voice trembled. “He stood on his hind legs to protect me. The gunman who shot that poor soul in the head was ready to shoot me next.” She sobbed and wiped tears from her face. “He took the bullets meant for me.” Her trembling, wrinkled hands reverently touched his furry face. “He should have let me die. He’s the man my sweet pea is meant to marry. They had such a long future ahead of them.” She hung her head and her shoulders shook.
“Oh, Gram.” Paisley enveloped her grandmother in her arms. “None of this is your fault. We won’t lose him. Not if I have anything to do with it.” She turned to remove a blanket, socks and Gram’s pink pelican slippers from a box. “Put these on. You’ve got to be cold.”
Earnan hobbled in, leaning on his cane and wheezing for his next breath. “A couple of ye young fellas bring me supplies from me truck. All of it.” Ronan and Hamish padded to an empty area in the underground chamber and shifted.
Gram’s jaw dropped. “You told me and I believed you, but … but to see them shift in person is the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen.” The two men ran into the tunnel and Gram’s eyes twinkled. “Nice buns.”
Oh, yeah, she’ll be all right.
Earnan hobbled over and peered down at Creighton and then at Paisley. “The laird said ye have training in treating animals.”
“Yes.”
“Ye are young, with young knees. I canna get down on this stone. I shall tell ye what to do and ye shall treat. As soon as my supplies are brought in, ye’ll insert an IV and administer anesthesia.” He leaned on his cane. “Tell me, have ye ever removed bullets before?”
“In horses and dogs, yes.”
He nodded. “Ye’ll do. The laird brags on yer good mind and empathy for animals.”
“That’s because I’m an animal communicator.” Goodness, had she just divulged that? Her previous fears of what people thought of her diminished when the life of the man she loved grew feebler with every labored breath. She glanced at Earnan to gauge his reaction to her confession.
His murky eyes searched her face and a slow smile spread. “Then we shall revere ye here at Mathe Bay.”
Ronan and Hamish returned and set large cases next to her. She handed them each a blanket to cover themselves. Ronan brought one of the lanterns to Creighton’s side to illuminate his body while she operated.
Earnan tapped his cane on the top of one of the metal trunks. “Now, open these cases and remove what I tell ye. We have an important job to do, lassie.”
Paisley glanced at Gram, who nodded. “I’m here for you too, sweet pea, if you need a bit of magic. I’ve always been here for you.”
An hour or so later, the muscles in Paisley’s shoulders ached and her fingers were cramped. Time had moved agonizingly slow while she’d removed bullets from Creighton, and repaired his torn muscles. Her eyes were fatigued from staring into her lover’s wounds in the semidarkness. She was glad Earnan had insisted she remove the one in his chest first, while she was fresh and her reactions were quicker. The bullet had nicked Creighton’s heart and once, during surgery, his heart had stopped—so had hers. The wise veterinarian had instructed her how to gently massage his heart with her finger to get the desired reaction. Gram’s lips made almost silent movements as she either prayed or uttered chants, whichever, the words comforted Paisley.
When a weak stutter of movement indicated Creighton’s heart functioning was slowly returning, she exhaled a breath of relief, and eased the mountain of fear in her chest. Her hands had remained poised above his heart until it established a stronger, more regular rhythm.
Each bullet’s removal brought its own set of challenges. Many times she had to ask for instructions. Earnan showed great patience as he talked her through situations she’d never trained for in college. With each “Good, lassie, good job,” she grew more confident.
Earnan also oversaw Fiona’s clumsy attempts to draw blood from Ronan, Hamish, and Kendric for a blood transfusion to help replace the blood Creighton had lost. The three men, in their efforts to ease some of the tension, complained loudly and called Fiona “Mum-Dracula.”
Paisley kept communicating with Creighton throughout, telling him how much she loved him and how much she needed him to live. She prayed his bear heard and understood.
“I’m preparing to sew his last wound now.” She flexed her fingers before she wrapped them around the sutures.
Earnan patted her shoulder. “Ye have done well. As good as I could have, and I dinna say that lightly, lassie. Ye have saved the Laird.”
Tears burned her eyes. She willed herself to focus on doing her best for Creighton. Knowing how his anger so often revived him, she told him about the six girls she’d bear him. No sons, my love. Just girls. All as stubborn as me. She sewed his sutures as she communicated. I’m thinking I’ll call them nature names to honor your bear side. Moonbeam and Sunlight. What else? Rainbow and Rivers. She applied a bandage over the sutures and smiled when two more names hit her. Mossie and Mudpie.
Creighton’s eyes moved beneath closed eyelids and he bared his teeth.
She fought the urge to laugh. Did she know how to rile her Highlander, or what?
Chapter Twenty-Four
At last, quiet descended on the cave. Kendric had taken two men to the hospital and incarcerated Malcolm and his employee. Duncan’s body was hauled away by the Scottish version of a coroner. Ronan used the Land Rover to take Hamish to Iverson Hall and Gram to Matheson Lodge. Leaving Paisley with a list of instructions, Earnan stalked out, the sound of his cane growing more distant.
Fiona handed Paisley a bottle of water. “Just the three of us now. Ye have saved me son. I will be forever grateful.”
Paisley twisted off the cap and downed the cool water. “He’s not out of the woods yet. He has to wake up from the anesthesia, and I have to guard him against infection. We’ll have to keep monitoring him.” She stretched to work out the kinks in her sho
ulders and back. “I meant what I said back at the lodge. We’re not waiting till June. After all I’ve done to keep him alive, I’m not losing him to an ancient curse. Is there a waiting period in Scotland?”
“Fifteen days, providing ye have all yer papers in order.”
“What papers?” She’d hoped the waiting period would be shorter.
“When we hold weddings at the lodge, those not from Scotland must have a birth certificate and notarized proof they aren’t already married to another. They need those papers before they can apply for permission to wed. If everything’s in order, they must wait fifteen days. I don’t see how ye can do everything required in under a month.”
Paisley did some quick calculations. Gram’s lawyer in Virginia could provide proof she’d never been married. As for birth certificates, Gram had insisted they bring them along on the trip. The strength of the curse weighed heavier on her with each passing hour. “Three weeks. I’m marrying your son in three weeks.” Paisley glanced at Creighton and could have sworn he smiled—if bears could smile.
“I can’t possibly have a wedding planned in three weeks.”
“All we need are family, a minister, and a wedding cake. I want this curse business behind us.” She yawned. Three weeks. She’d be married in three weeks.
“Ye take a nap while I keep an eye on me son.” Fiona tugged a small notebook and pen from her purse. “I’ll make wedding plans while ye sleep.”
Paisley reached for the blanket Gram had used earlier. “I’ll be glad when Ronan and Bryce figure out a way to transport Creighton back to the lodge. Warmth and comfort will help him heal quicker.” She spread the blanket over him and lay under it too, snuggling against his uninjured side. Another yawn escaped and she relaxed against his furry warmth.
Beloved.
Her hand went to his face. Perhaps he was coming out of anesthesia. Yes. I’m here, love. I’m not leaving.
A deep breath rumbled from his chest. Beloved.
The gentle scrape of a claw trailed down her arm and her eyes popped open. She pushed up on her forearm.
