by Trisha Telep
And just before she stepped, just before she gasped, just before her eyes focused on what she thought she saw, she stumbled. Fell. Busted into and dropped through an old rotted doorway covered with growth. She fell downward, and she had a fleeting thought, just before she hit her head, that it was a cellar. She landed with a thud, her head whirled, and blackness formed behind her eyes, and claimed her.
Four
If Justin had a pair of lungs, he would have lost his bloody breath.
Dari had just disappeared beneath the sod!
Justin listened for a moment; he heard the very faintest sound of breathing. It was even, calm, non-pained. She must have fallen into a bloody underground larder. He peered into the gaping hole; it was dark, and he couldna tell how deep she was. Moving himself, he appeared in the darkness beside her. The space was a small chamber, and several meters deep; only a weak shaft of light shot through from the hole above. Justin wanted to make sure she hadn’t broken anything, or landed on her head, so he drew a breath – just for the sake of it, since he had no lungs to breathe with – cleared his throat and spoke.
And prayed he wouldn’t do more damage than good.
“Ms St James? Are you hurt? Can you move?”
The voice, seemingly far away, grew closer. Dari opened her eyes but saw only darkness. “Hello?” she responded. “Who’s there?” She tried to move but her head swam. “Ouch.”
“Oi,” the voice said. “Dunna move, lass. Just lie still, aye?”
Heavily accented with a sexy Scottish brogue, Dari thought she recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. Not at all. “Who . . . are you?” she asked hesitantly. “Where am I?”
“Right,” the voice said hestitantly. “I’m, err, Justin, and you seem tae have fallen into an old food cellar at the ruins.”
“The ruins?”
“Aye,” Justin answered. “Slains.”
He had a really nice accent; voice not too deep-pitched, not too high-pitched either. Spoke with calm, soothing tones. Of course, a Scottish brogue was sexy no matter how you sliced it. “I was here for sunrise pictures. Have we met, Justin?”
“I . . . dunna believe so, ma’am.”
Dari tried to sit up once more, and her head swam again. “OK, I’ll just lie right here,” she said. Justin had sounded as though he didn’t want to tell her his name. “How did you know I was here?” she asked. “I was all alone – except I could have sworn I saw a man standing on the ledge above me. He wore a . . . hat of sorts. That’s when I stepped . . . and fell.”
“I, err, was out walkin’ along the lane there and saw you fall,” Justin offered. “’Tis treacherous out here, lass. Many holes and gillyways and such, hidden in the grass.”
“So I’ve been told,” Dari answered, although she had no clue what a gillyway was. “Well, Justin,” she said. “Thank you for coming to see to me. It’s . . . sort of embarrassing— oh. My camera bag! I have a flashlight in it. Can you help me find it? I . . . feel like I’m sitting in damp dirt, and I want to make sure there aren’t any spiders or gross things crawling near me.” She patted around, not really noticing that Justin hadn’t responded. “Oh, here it is.”
“Right, err, hold on there lass, you dunna want tae be—”
“Got it,” Dari said, grasped the light by the handle and pushed up the switch. She swept the beam across the small cavern – and directly over, rather through, the body of a man. Through him. His body was not solid.
He looked as mortified as she felt. He looked familiar.
Wearing a leather hat, billowy white shirt, long leather overcoat, dark pants.
“Whoa!” she said, and was so surprised that she dropped the light. Her heart slammed into her ribs, and her insides seized. “Who are you?” she managed, all the while feeling for the flashlight’s handle. She found it and searched for him again in the shaft of light. She found him, crouched not three feet away. “How did you get in here?” she stuttered, her insides growing numb with fear, her mind a web of confusion. She had no idea who this guy was or what his deal was, but he’d been in her room the night before; she recognized his voice from dinner and he’d been standing above her, on the ledge, just before she fell. He was stalking her. She knew that now. And he wasn’t frickin frackin solid! Had she really seen what she thought she’d seen?
“Err, Dari, please,” he began. “Dunna get so frantic—”
“Frantic?” Dari half-hollered. “You’re stalking me, you . . . weirdo! You’re see-through! You’re— Just . . . get out and leave me alone!” She forced herself to rise again; her head spun and a wave of nausea hit her. “Oh, hell,” she said, crumpling back to her original position. She wasn’t going anywhere just yet. “Please,” she muttered, her voice meek, her strength leaving her. She barely had enough left to hold the flashlight as a weapon. She’d thought of whacking him with it but had a sneaky suspicion a weapon wouldn’t do her any good. She wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but she didn’t think for a second that it was normal. Wasn’t natural. “I don’t know who you are, or . . . or what you are, or why the light shoots straight through you. But please. Don’t hurt me.”
Justin Catesby pulled his tricorn off, shoved his hand through his hair and stared, helpless, at Dari St James. He hated that she was so afraid of him but what else could he expect? He was a bloody spirit for saint’s sake! He’d made some poor choices in his day but this was probably the poorest.
Besides the one that took his life – whatever that was.
He had to help her. At least make things right. He settled his tricorn back on his head.
“Ah, Dari?” he said, softly, so no’ to frighten her. “I willna hurt you. I vow it.” He sighed. “No’ that I could anyway.”
“Who are you?” she asked again, her voice steadier this time.
He sighed again, and glanced at where she lay. “Why dunna you put your torch on and set it beside you, lass,” he advised. “That way you can see a little.”
Several seconds went by in silence, then a small click resonated in the cellar as she flipped on the torch. It lay beside her, and the beam was just enough to illuminate the area. He, of course, could see in the dark, but he wanted Dari to see him.
The faster she did, the faster she’d accept him.
He hoped anyway.
Justin Catesby didn’t know what to expect from this unexpected event, but at least it had thrown him and Dari together. He only hoped she could grasp what he was.
A ghost. One that had walked the earth for hundreds of years.
He cleared his throat. She glanced at him hesitantly, her eyes wide as she inspected him. “My name is Captain Justin Catesby, lass. Originally from Aberdeen. Lately of Sealladh na Mara.” He tipped his hat and gave a nod. When he looked, she was still staring, speechless. Several seconds passed. She opened her mouth, closed it; opened and closed it again.
Finally, she spoke. “Am I supposed to believe you’re . . . dead?”
Justin met her dubious gaze. “Aye. That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”
Five
Dari stared, almost disbelieving. Almost.
Without another thought, she picked up the flashlight and flung it at him.
It passed straight through him and hit the earthen wall.
The corners of Justin Catesby’s mouth tipped upward in a crooked smile. “I confess, I wasna expectin’ that.”
Because of the way the flashlight now lay, Captain Justin Catesby was completely illuminated. Openly studying the form before her, Dari let her eyes travel the whole of his body. Still crouched, he wore a leather hat similar to that of a pirate, a long leather overcoat, leather vest beneath, a white shirt with billowy sleeves, and dark pants tucked into leather boots that rose to mid-calf.
Her stalker was . . . a pirate?
A laugh emanated from Justin Catesby. “Nay, no’ truly a pirate. A sea captain, if you will.”
An icy film covered her insides. “You just read my mind.”
Justin’
s sexy mouth widened in a full smile. “Bein’ dead does have a perk or two, lass.”
Dari blinked. “I’m not having this conversation. You’re not real.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m not here, in a hole beneath castle ruins, talking to a dead guy.”
“Aye,” Justin said matter-of-factly. “You are, in truth. Now can you move?”
“Why?” Dari asked, still completely stunned.
Justin laughed. “So you can hoist yourself out o’ here, gel.”
“Oh,” she mumbled. At least if she were imagining a conversation with a ghost, he seemed to have a little sense.
He chuckled again.
Taking a deep breath, Dari slowly sat up.
“Now stay like that for a handful of seconds,” Justin said. “Get your bearings.”
She did and, after a few moments, her head stopped spinning so much. “OK.”
“Now,” he said. “You’re goin’ tae have tae pull and crawl your way out o’ here.” He rose on his haunches and shuffled to the wall. “See you here? Use these roots and such as steps.”
For the time being, Dari was simply going to put it out of her head that a pirate ghost was helping her out of a hole in the ground. “All right,” she agreed, and slowly stood. “I’m going to get my flashlight first, so don’t . . . let me walk into you.”
“Of course,” Justin said, and moved away.
Dari, glad her head no longer swam, lifted her camera bag and tripod case, grasped the flashlight, and shouldered it all. She found the roots, dug her toes into the hard-packed sod and, in moments, she was out of the hole.
Captain Justin Catesby was standing there, waiting. He looked even more amazing in the daylight.
“Whoa!” she exclaimed, and stepped back. “Don’t do that!”
Justin grinned. “Dunna do what, gel? Simply stand here? I’m doin’ nothin’ more than makin’ sure you’re out o’ harm’s way.”
Dari stood in the courtyard of Slains Castle and stared at a pirate ghost.
“Sea captain,” Justin corrected. “There is a difference.”
Dari found a large stone, walked to it and sat. First, she checked her camera. It had fallen in the case and, luckily, remained intact. She slipped it over her shoulder, zipped the case up and breathed. Then she turned to Justin. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She could actually see fine detail in the light; although he was just the slightest bit transparent, he still looked . . . mostly solid. Weird. She regarded him closely. Tall – at least six foot; his brown wavy hair, all one length, rested against the top of his shoulders, and soft brown eyes rimmed with thick lashes looked back at her. His smile was wide, his lips full, and never had she seen a more gorgeous man.
He took her breath away.
“Well,” she said out loud. “If I’m going to bonk my head and dream up a dead guy, at least he’s gorgeous.”
Justin again chuckled.
Then, Dari noticed something else. Upon his left forefinger, a ring; the design contained a half-moon with a fang in the center. Fascinating, the details she conjured after hitting her noggin.
With a slight glance around, then at her watch, Dari sighed. “Well, Justin Catesby, once of Aberdeen, lately of . . . that other place.” She couldn’t remember how to pronounce it. She stood. “It’s been great dreaming you up. I have to say this forced tour was well worth its early torture.” She smiled. “See ya.”
Dari simply nodded her head and walked away.
Justin smiled, shook his head and fell in step behind her.
He took the freedom to study her in full daylight.
A head shorter than he, she walked straight and purposefully, her soft blonde ponytail swinging with each step. Her woolen jumper looked at least a size too large, but her trousers fit snugly against a fetchin’ bottom—
“You’re staring at my ass.”
Justin blinked, then chuckled. “Aye, I am.”
Dari looked at him as she walked, then turned and faced forward again, shaking her head. “Great. I conjure up a make-believe hot pirate guy and he’s a perv.”
“I’m no’ a perv, lass,” Justin countered. “I appreciate fine things. Art, jewelry, scenery.” He grinned. “And women, by the by.”
Dari glanced at him. “Gee. I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”
Justin shrugged a shoulder and smiled.
As they walked, Dari took in the scenery; it was hard not to. They were on the east coast of Scotland, the North Sea. Clumps of purple heather and bushes of yellow gorse colored the bleak stones and tumultuous seascape, and Dari couldn’t pass up a shot despite walking down the A975 with a flirtatious deceased sea captain. She stopped and took several shots of the roadside, with the North Sea to the side.
“If you turn round you can get a right nice shot of the ruins with your flowers,” Justin said. Dari looked at him, and he grinned and pointed. “See there?”
She turned and almost gasped, the sight was so breathtaking.
Almost as breathtaking as the sight standing right beside her.
She really hated that he wasn’t real.
After quickly setting up her tripod, she photographed Slains Castle from the direction of the spirit.
Six
Justin thought Dari St James rather funny.
’Twas in fact too bad she didn’t actually believe he existed.
He’d made his mind up to make her believe.
Watching her face as she photographed his country, Justin could tell she had the same passion for its beauty as he. Mayhap she hadn’t known Scotland for as long, but she had that fiery sparkle in her green eyes when her gaze lighted on something she fancied.
Like the ruins, for example.
She stood alongside the road now, taking pictures with her digital.
“You’re staring at me again,” Dari said, still looking through the camera’s eyepiece. “If you were real, I’d throw something at you.”
“You did throw something at me,” Justin reminded her.
Dari rose, and turned to him. She studied him for some time. “Are you just in my head?” she asked. “Is it because of the fall I’m seeing you?”
Justin held her gaze with his. “Nay, lass. You saw me before you fell in yon hole.” He held up his hand. “Once, when you first arrived.”
Her eyes widened. “That was you on the roof.”
Justin smiled. “Twice. In your room.”
Dari frowned. “You saw me in my knickers.”
Justin forced himself not to laugh. “Thrice. On the ledge above you, just before you fell.” He lowered his hand and gave her a low bow. “And again, now.” He rose and walked a bit closer. “As you can see, gel,” he said, boring his gaze into her lovely green one. “I am as real as you are.”
She studied him for several seconds. “How do I know you’re not just a figment of my imagination? Can others see you?”
Justin shrugged. “Some can, others canna. Depends on if they’re sensitive.”
She cocked her head, and he at once thought it an endearing gesture. “Sensitive?”
He nodded. “Aye. Like, now, for instance,” he said, and pointed up the road. “Flag down that lorry there and we’ll put it tae the test.” He grinned, proud of himself. “We’ll stop, say, three vehicles.”
She frowned. “And say what, exactly?”
Justin rubbed his chin. “Merely ask if they see anyone else standing at the roadside besides yourself.” He winked. “Scots are rather helpful folk, Ms St James. You’ll be surprised.”
Dari turned, studied the lorry and narrowed her eyes at Justin. “OK. I’ll do it.” She waited for the lorry to approach, then stepped near the side of the road and threw up a hand. She waved, and the lorry slowed.
A middle-aged man with a shock of ginger hair pulled up beside her and lowered the window. “Aye, love. You needin’ somethin’?”
Dari smiled wide. “Um, sort of.” She scratched her forehead, suddenly embarrassed. “Do . . . you see anyone here b
esides me?” Oh my God, I feel like a nut job.
Justin smiled at that, and then looked at the man.
He could instantly tell he had a true Scotsman on his side. Luck was wi’ him this day.
The lorry driver looked dead at Justin. “Och, o’ course I do, lass. You’ve got a young pirate fellow wi’ you, I see.” He nodded to Justin. “Good morn, lad.”
Justin nodded in return. “An’ to you, good sir.”
The ginger-haired lorry-driver smiled wide at Dari, revealing a gap between his two front teeth. “You’ll be needin’ anything else, love?” he asked.
Dari slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. Thank you.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “Good morn tae ya, then.”
And with that, he drove off.
Dari stood with her back to him, and Justin used extreme control not to peer inside her lovely head and read her thoughts. He’d wait patiently. She was bloody well worth it.
When finally, moments later, she turned, dusky green eyes sought his. She stared at him for so long, he wondered if she’d fallen asleep, just standin’ there. Then, she spoke.
“I’ve got to go now,” she said, then promptly turned and started back up the A975.
The brisk wind blowing off the North Sea whipped at her ponytail, carrying with it the heady brine scent of the ocean, the sweet scent of clover and heather, and something else undecidedly, simply Scotland. With a deep breath, Dari pulled it into her lungs, savored it and banked it to memory.
The ghost of a sea captain walked beside her.
The lorry driver had seen him.
That was indisputable evidence.
“Ms St James, what’s the matter?”
Dari chanced a peek at Justin Catesby. “I just discovered ghosts really do exist, Captain. Please. Give me a moment to let my brain wrap around the notion.”
