Iain
Page 1
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Culloden Moor, Scotland
Iain MacIntosh died at the Battle of Culloden in 1746. Only his desire for revenge has kept him tethered to the lonely moor for the past two hundred seventy years. The time for that revenge, and his ultimate rest, is finally at hand. All that’s holding him up is one small task to prove his worth. He needs only to save the life of an innocent. An innocent who complicates his task as if she’s been sent by the devil himself.
Toliver Mine, Colorado
Sallie Addison has just about given up on men. But she has learned something from her history of always picking the wrong one. Love at first sight is as much a myth as is true love. Then she meets someone who just might change everything she believes about love. He’s perfect…except for his insistence that he was killed over two hundred and seventy years ago!
Two broken hearts, two lonely souls. Both just might have a chance at happiness if Iain can only keep Sallie alive.
Iain
A Highlander Romance - Book 19
The Ghosts of Culloden Moor
by
Melissa Mayhue
Iain: © 2016 by Melissa Mayhue
The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Series © 2015 Lesli Muir Lytle
All Rights Reserved
A Note about this Series:
Although the individual stories of Culloden’s 79 need not be read in strict order, the first book in the series, THE GATHERING, should be read first so that the reader fully understands what’s going on between the Muir witch and the Highland warriors from 1746.
THE RECKONING, Number 79’s story, will finish up the series.
The names of Culloden’s 79 are historically accurate in that we have used only the clan or surnames of those who actually died on that fateful day. The given names have been changed out of respect for those brave men and their descendants. If a ghost happens to share the entire name of a fallen warrior, it is purely accidental.
You can find a list of all the stories so far at the series website:
www.ghostsofcullodenmoor.weebly.com
To learn more about the series or to chat with other readers, you can visit the warriors’ Facebook page:
Ghosts of Culloden Moor on Facebook
Prologue
Culloden Moor
April 1746
The bullet piercing the flesh of Iain MacIntosh’s back came as no real surprise. He’d never been much of a fighter. Even when the lads would gather outside the stables to share a wee dram, Iain had never been one to engage in the fisticuffs or feats of strength. He’d been the one to sidle into the shadows and watch the revelry from afar.
But after the beautiful lady Anne had paid her visit, even a peaceful man such as Iain had proudly marched out with his cousins, making their way along the path that led eventually to Culloden Moor. Their hearts filled with love of kin and clan, their chests inflated with confidence in Prince Charlie’s God-given right to rule, they’d marched on, like lambs to slaughter.
No, the surprises of that gloomy April day in 1746 had come later. The first arrived when Iain had realized that the Prince in whose name he’d fought had abandoned those like him, the wounded who lay stranded on the battlefield. The second surprise had come in the form of their enemies’ callous disregard for life.
Unable to move more than his arms, Iain had spent the better part of his conscious hours torn between cursing his Prince and praying for some miracle to save him. He thought those prayers answered when a booted toe prodded at his shoulder and a pair of hands flipped him over onto his back.
“This one yet lives,” his would-be savior called out.
“Not on our watch, he doesn’t,” another answered.
This was what their faith in Bonnie Prince Charlie had brought them to. An ignominious death in a sodden field. Alone. Abandoned.
Iain hadn’t the strength or the time to protest as the musket rested against his head and discharged. He had only the seconds to curse the Prince one last time, with his final breath.
Chapter 1
Culloden Moor
Present Day
“Ye’ were called Iain, were ye’ no’?”
Soncerae, the beautiful young witch, waited for his answer, her eyes filled with an emotion that could be either sorrow or pity. Iain couldn’t be sure of which, though he liked the idea of neither.
What he was sure of was that he didn’t completely trust the dark-haired beauty. True, she’d always seemed nice enough. Just as it was true that they’d all of them, all seventy-nine of them, been drawn to the lass from her first visit to Culloden as a mere babe in arms.
But things had changed with her latest visit. This time she’d come offering the revenge they all hungered after and all they had to do to reach that long-desired goal was to perform a simple task for their little witch. A quest of sorts. The thing was, the men who had risen and gone on Soni’s mysterious quests had not returned. Iain wasn’t sure what had happened to them, but often enough, not knowing was more frightening than facing the whole of the English army had ever been.
“Ye’ are Iain MacIntosh. I’m no’ mistaken in that, am I?” she asked again.
“I was,” he answered at last. “But that was a very long time ago. I’m called only by my number here. Fifty-One.”
It was the number taken from the order in which the ghosts had risen after their deaths. He’d been the fifty-first. Why or what determined that order, he had no idea. He knew only that after two centuries, he’d almost forgotten Iain and begun to think of himself simply as Fifty-One.
He didn’t even know why he was numbered among these men. Perhaps it was his hatred, like theirs, that had kept him chained to this place for so many years. Perhaps all he needed in order to move on was revenge against the man who had caused his death. His and all the others.
Either that, or he simply needed to let go of the anger that bound him to this place.
But that wasn’t going to happen. The man who had been the cause of their ruin had himself lived a long life, with benefit of hearth and home, while Iain and the others who’d lost their lives at Culloden had moldered in mass graves, tossed one on top of the other like rotted scraps.
If giving up his hatred was the only way to move on, Iain was cursed to eternity in this place.
“Or perhaps you could earn yer chance at taking yer revenge on yer Prince, just as I offered, aye?” Soni asked, her expression far too innocent. “One wee task to prove yer worthiness is all it will take to cut the ties that bind ye’ to Culloden Moor. Are ye’ ready?”
“It’s my turn, then, is it?”
He’d waited for this moment from the first, hanging back, fearing she’d set her eyes upon him next. Fearing she wouldn’t.
“Aye, yer time has come, Fifty-One. Time for ye’ to earn yer way to what ye’ desire most. If yer willing to sacrifice for it, that is. If yer willing to give up all that ye’ve held dear.”
A mist swirled around them as she spoke, a haze of green that blocked all the others from his sight, as if he and Soni were locked away from the rest of the world in their own private chamber.
Iain nodded, straightening to his full height. “What would you have of me, lass?”
Whatever it was she asked, he would give the task his all. He would do anything for his own opportunity to show the faithless prince what his careless actions had caused. Anything for his own opportunity to purge the rage that had grown in his heart
for well over two hundred years. Anything to free his soul from the unending nothingness of Culloden Moor.
“An act of heroism. A selfless act, to save the life of an innocent. Are ye’ prepared for whatever ye’ might face in this task, and willing to pay the price after you’ve completed it?”
“I am.” He paused for a moment, staring into the girl’s unfathomable eyes. “As long as I have the opportunity for my revenge when the task is done.”
“Oh, you’ll have that opportunity, Fifty-One. Once you’ve earned it. If you still want it once you’ve completed yer task, that is. If ye’ve no’ changed yer mind by that time.”
Changed his mind?
He choked back a bitter cough of laughter. Of course he would want it. It was his one desire to break the curse that bound him to this mournful plain. No task he could imagine, no matter how burdensome or difficult, would ever change his mind.
“Indeed,” Soni murmured, a smile lighting her eyes before it touched her lips. “We shall see, Iain MacIntosh. We shall see.”
The swirling mist grew in its intensity, a vortex of wind and color that seemed to press in on him from every direction. The pressure grew, pounding against his ears, filling his lungs with an unfamiliar breath of air, bringing with it an awareness of his body that he hadn’t felt for centuries. He could feel his feet lifting off the ground, his body whirling faster and faster as the mist turned from green to black.
Not yet! He had questions that needed answering before she sent him on.
“How will I ken when I’ve done what I need to do? How will I ken who it is I’m to help? When—”
Soni’s laughter tinkled over the sound of the rushing wind that filled his ears and choked off his words.
“All in good time, Fifty-One. You’ll ken everything, all in good time. Until we meet again.”
Chapter 2
Toliver Mine
Colorado
Present Day
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dale. You’re not in love with me. You don’t even know me.”
Salome Addison pushed away from the man attempting to pull her into his arms, and tried to ignore the odd emotion flashing in his eyes. She continued to back away, skirting the stacks of supplies in the small room. With the boxes in between her and Dale, she stopped, as if the barrier gave her enough protection to confront the situation.
“I can’t believe you don’t feel the same way I do, Sallie.” Dale took a step toward her but stopped when she held up her hand. “Okay, okay. I get that you’re not totally won over yet. But you will be. I love you and you love me, whether you’re ready to admit it or not. I’ve known the truth of that from the moment I first saw you. Anyone with half a brain can see we’re meant to be together.”
“Love?” she managed to squeak, though her throat tightened on the word. “You’ve only known me for two weeks.”
Love didn’t happen in two weeks. It didn’t even happen in two months. Though she might have believed in such a silly thing in her past, Sallie had grown beyond such foolishness, though the lessons hadn’t been easy. She had enough failed romances in her past to be the walking poster child for proof that love at first sight didn’t exist.
There had been Roy, the classic biker/bad boy who had swept her off her feet when she’d met him at the cafe where she’d been waitressing during her time in college. That had lasted until she’d learned that he was really a dentist trying to “find himself.” He’d bought a bike, invented a persona, and taken a holiday from his real job. Unfortunately, he’d also “taken a holiday” from his real wife.
Roy was followed by Colin, a pre-med student who swore he was in love and ready to settle down. It only took three months to learn that what he was really looking for was a sugar mama to do his wash and fix his meals so he could concentrate on his studies. Except he didn’t concentrate on his studies as much as he concentrated on all the other women who were more than willing to be his sugar mamas, too.
Most recently there had been Clint, a rodeo cowboy who had at first seemed the perfect fit. He said he came from a ranching family just like she did and wanted nothing more than to settle down on a piece of land where he could raise cows and a family. Sallie had thought for sure he was the one until she learned that the closest he’d ever been to a bull was the mechanical version in the western bar where he liked to spend his nights. And as far as the riding he did, well, it wasn’t horses that drew his attention. It was all those girls who were looking for a special night or two with what they also thought was a real cowboy.
No, love at first sight didn’t exist. Especially not for someone like her with a history of always choosing the wrong guy. At least she had learned a thing or two from her history of poor dating choices. She’d learned enough to know right now that the man on the other side of these boxes was definitely another one of those wrong guys, no matter how handsome he might be.
“Two weeks or two years, makes no difference,” Dale said confidently, giving her a wink. “You might as well accept it, Sallie. It’s going to be you and me in the end. I know it as sure as I’m standing here.”
Sallie struggled with how to respond to something so obviously outside the boundaries of normal. Even if he was as naive as she’d once been, his actions weren’t those of a rational person.
“Listen, Dale, I don’t know what you think you feel for me, but there is nothing between us and there’s not going to be anything. I don’t mix romance and work. This job means too much to me to risk it on some summer fling.”
After four years at the Toliver Mine, Sallie finally felt as though she’d found someplace where she could be happy. She might have made mistakes in her past, but those days were behind her. It took her a long time to grow up, but she’d finally rounded that corner. No man was going to pull the rug out from under her ever again. And if she wasn’t going to let a man mess up her life, she sure wasn’t going to mess it up herself.
“We’re not a summer fling, darlin’,” he said, starting toward her. “We’re a for-keeps kind of thing, so you might as well start getting used to the idea.”
The flirty smile he’d worn moments before morphed into something else. Something that made Sallie distinctly uncomfortable.
Fortunately, the echoing of the old train whistle heading into the stop up the hill distracted him and she was able to make her escape through the door and out into the warm sun. Her steps quickened until she was moving at a steady jog, heading toward the train station where her co-workers would be gathered.
After the experience she’d just had with Dale, she wanted all the company she could get. Whether the guy simply had a sick sense of humor or he was seriously off his meds didn’t matter. Behavior like his wouldn’t be tolerated in this environment. Besides, seriously? Love at first sight? Did he really expect her or any other woman to fall for that? Couldn’t happen. Didn’t exist. Especially not with someone who was so determined to make it happen, no matter that the object of his affection had no interest in him, whatsoever. It took more than eyes meeting across a crowded room to connect with the man of your dreams. Thank heaven she’d finally learned that lesson.
Switching gears from jog to run, she made a quick mental note to give the other girls working at the mine a heads-up about Dale’s odd behavior. No point in their being as unpleasantly surprised as she had been.
She skidded to a stop in the loose gravel at the base of the stairs to the train platform, breathless from her uphill run. Halfway up the stairs, an excited bubble of chatter hit her ears.
From the sound of the conversation, the new guy had finally arrived.
Another ten steps up to the platform and she was forced to slightly revise her earlier conclusion. Love at first sight might not exist, but attraction at first sight definitely did.
*
A jostle awakened Iain, bumping his head against a pane of glass. It wasn’t seriously painful, but it was hard enough to jolt him awake.
He was on a conveyance of some sort, that much was
clear. A train, he’d guess, based on the books he’d seen in the visitors’ center at Culloden. It had been his impression that these beasts weren’t much in use anymore. Not since automobiles had become so popular. Perhaps he’d been mistaken.
His head still rested against the glass as the train rounded a sharp curve, the momentum jerking his body once again. This time the bump was much harder, rapping his forehead against the glass. Only as he lifted his fingers to touch the warm skin did the magnitude of what had just happened settle over him.
His contact with the glass had hurt. He could feel the pain. Feel the warmth of his own skin under his fingers just as he had when he was alive.
It would seem there was much the little Muir witch had neglected to tell him.
One long shriek of the whistle sounded and the train began to slow. Iain sat up straight and braced himself this time, not willing to experiment with another crack of his head against the glass. He scanned the car around him, noting that he was the only passenger.
When the train jerked to a full stop, he stood and slowly made his way to the end of the car and out the opening.
About ten feet away, several identically-clad men had gathered, all smiling expectantly, as if they had known he’d be getting off the train.
Another tidbit of information Soni had neglected to share?
“Welcome!” the closest of the group called as he approached, hand extended in greeting. “We’d begun to worry that you weren’t going to get here before opening day.”
“I’m here now,” Iain said, unsure of what his response should be since he had no idea where here actually was.
“So you are. And with plenty of time to get you trained, too. I’m Justin, by the way. Justin Heath. Over there is Dusty Kramer and Tony Juarez.” Each of the men lifted a hand in acknowledgment as Justin said their names. “And coming up the stairs we have Manda Turner and Ashley Billings. I’m afraid Ms. Toliver didn’t leave us your name. She only said that she’d arranged for another employee who would be showing up before we opened for the summer.”