by L. L. Muir
“Bradstreet fooled everyone. ’Tis what spies do.”
“I let everyone down. They’d blame me if they truly understood.”
“The reason no one ever blamed ye wasnae because they didnae note the deed, but because they never once held ye responsible.”
“If Sarah had never met me, she’d still be…”
Soni sighed. “Culloden Moor wasnae yer fault. Dinnae try and second-guess history. Ye’re just not that important, Murdoch.”
“Ye weren’t there! I deserve Hell for what happened that day!”
“If ye deserved Hell, ye’d have gone straight there. D’ye think the devil awaits on payment?” Soni rubbed her temple. “Laddie, I’ve got quite a bit on my plate at the moment. More than ye could possibly know. I simply doonae have time for this. So remove the hairshirt yer carryin’ and make a decision.”
Was Soni right? Would he already reside in Hell if he’d garnered all the blame for that horrible day?
Soni snapped her fingers. “Murdoch! ’Tis time to make yer choice, laddie. I’ve much to do.”
“Choice?”
“If ye doonae wish to stay, doonae stay. I mean, truly, what’s keeping ye here? But yer givin’ me mixed signals. But takin’ Sarah with ye isnae an option. Ye know that, right?”
“She’s dead, as am I! If I’m not bound for Hell, why cannae I take her with?”
“Because she’s yet tae finish livin’ her life!”
He looked down at Sarah and was astounded to see her take a breath. She was alive? She looked like she was in a deep sleep. He jostled her in his arms. “Sarah?” His arm slackened so he could see more of her. He checked her wound and it was bleeding sluggishly. She needed a doctor, not a priest. He couldn’t seem to think.
“I mean, if ye doonae wish tae stay with her, I’m sure her heart will eventually mend, and she’ll find another to love.”
Murdoch was confused, but one thing he knew for certain. His grip tightened around her once more. “She’s mine.”
Soni rolled her eyes. “Let’s not start this again.”
“She’ll not have another.”
“Weel, then ye might have to stay as well.” She spoke as if to a young child.
“Stop torturing me. What am I to say?”
Soni rolled her eyes. “I dinnae know. Ye seem to be in a hurry to leave.”
“I doonae wish tae go!”
Soni looked at him impatiently.
“I’m staying!”
She threw up her arms and smiled. “Finally, the man makes a decision.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Weel, ye did save her, risked yer life to do it too. And didnae she do the same? So stay here if ye’ve a mind.”
He couldn’t seem to think. “What was this? Some sort of test?”
“Murdoch,” she had a look of kindness on her face. “Twas a well-deserved second chance.”
He looked down and realized he’d no wounds. He lifted Sarah’s shirt to see she still did, but she was breathing Alive.
He finally smiled and glanced up, but Soni was gone.
Sarah slowly woke.
“Thank ye, Soni.” He whispered. “I thank ye.”
Sarah gazed up at him. “Murdoch? What happened?”
“Marry me. Be with me always.”
She grinned at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you. You belong to me, remember? But for now, get me out of here!”
He immediately picked her up.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re off to find a doctor, then, if yer feeling up to it, mayhap a priest.”
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan was tense as his car pulled up outside Fredrickson’s house. He exited the vehicle and couldn’t help thinking about the men he’d lost. Some had been with him for over a decade. Where would he hire new ones? He wished he’d never decided to expand his business. It just hadn’t been worth it.
Not that he had a choice anymore.
He hurried past the gorgeous landscaping, up the steps, and rang the doorbell. Ignoring the camera pointed at him, he tried to stay as still as possible, tried to hide any tremors or overt fear.
Fredrickson was dead, and his brother had taken over. Donovan needed to make a good impression. And he would. He had the microchip, after all. He’d opened it and knew the information would net him a “get out of jail free” pass. If he wanted to stay alive, he’d hand it over to the new Fredrickson.
Not a problem.
He’d taken it off the Highlander’s body, out of his pocket, and run away with it when the girl tried to run everyone down. In retrospect, it was the best decision he’d ever made, because apparently the guy woke up and killed almost everyone.
The new Fredrickson was willing to overlook much because Donovan had it.
The door was answered by two dark-haired men, both in gray suits. As indicated, he followed them down the hall. He waited for about fifteen minutes, positive he was still being spied upon by hidden cameras, and tried to keep his expression blank, to appear relaxed.
Finally, he was escorted in.
Fredrickson, the younger brother, sat behind the desk now. His older brother had been muscled, thick necked, wide. The younger brother was more slender, as lean as his brother had been square. But, they both had the same cold, deadly brown eyes.
Donovan was quick to hand over the microchip.
“This it?”
Donovan nodded, cleared his throat, and agreed. “Yes.”
“A lot of trouble over such a small item.”
Donovan nodded once more.
Fredrickson handed it to a younger man, who quickly plugged it into a box plugged into a computer.
Everyone watched, waiting, curious.
“I have something here.”
All three leaned closer to the large monitor.
An episode of Scooby Doo popped up, the familiar music starting to play.
Fredrickson sat back and looked at him. “Is this a joke?”
Sweat broke out on Donovan’s back and he shook his head. “No. This is what I took off the Highlander. I opened it earlier. It must be on another file.”
The kid at the computer did a quick search, then shook his head. It’s the only file on here. If there was anything else, it’s been wiped by someone who knew what they were doing.”
Donovan’s knees felt weak as Fredrickson turned toward him once more and gave him a long look. The things going on behind his eyes made Donovan shiver.
“You might want to rethink your life of crime.”
“I can fix this. I … I can go after the Highlander for you.”
Fredrickson signaled two men to come forward.
“I’m not going after the Highlander. I’m not stupid like my brother. I plan to just leave him alone.”
They hauled him away, and once again, Donovan wished with all his heart he’d never tried to expand his business.
Epilogue
January. Six months later.
As they headed into the elementary school, Sarah gripped Murdoch’s hand tightly. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Ach. I helped make the poster, did I not? I wish to see it set up.”
Sarah dug her key out and opened her classroom door just as June came down the hall. “Hey guys! How was the honeymoon in Scotland?”
Sarah grinned, probably smugly. “Scotland was fabulous!”
Murdoch grinned. “Aye, it was.”
June’s eyes narrowed, her gaze going between the two of them. “Apparently so.” She sighed. “Sarah, you know I’m not going to be able to stand being around you if you don’t tone the happiness down, alright?”
Sarah laughed. “I’ll do my best. How was the cabin?”
June waved a hand. “Christmas at the cabin was fabulous as always. Although, my parents are still wondering who stayed at their place last summer.” She grinned. “Apparently, they still haven’t found the culprits.”
“You haven’t told them?”
Sarah grinned. “Those dirty rotten scoundrels.”
June laughed. “I think he just likes all the attention it’s generated.”
Sarah opened the door and flipped on the light. The last time she’d been here, the kids had been waving her off to Scotland a few days before the break. Though she’d married Murdoch last July, they hadn’t had a chance to take a honeymoon until Christmas. It’d taken that long for Murdoch to get established in his job, and to get his passport.
As she’d healed up, he’d told her his story. It came in bits and pieces at first, then, when she’d believed – after all they’d been through together, all she’d seen, it hadn’t taken much to convince her – it had all come pouring out. The years of fear, aching loneliness, and guilt.
Standing on the grounds of Culloden Moor and seeing the spot Murdoch had been buried had been heartbreaking. As far as he could tell, his friends had gone; every last one of them. As they’d soaked up the history and atmosphere of the place, she’d asked, “You don’t have regrets? About staying? Being with me in the future?”
He’d pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers. “Lass, until you, I didnae have a future.”
As she’d clung to him and sobbed over his words and his past, he’d laughed.
Just the thought of it made her tear up again. She loved the guy with all her heart, with everything in her. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe that he’d chosen her, a schoolteacher from Boston, and that he loved her so well.
He caught her glance, and his lips curved into that cocky grin of his, as if he knew what she was thinking. He reached for her, and Jane stepped between them and raised her hands.
“Okay, enough of that. Honeymoon is officially over. Especially in front of me.”
They laughed.
Murdoch proved to be exactly what her grandfather’s office had been looking for in terms of security. They hadn’t had any more problems with threats, theft, or kidnapping … apparently, Murdoch’s reputation preceded him. After hearing his story, Grandpa had tried to give him the code name The Ghost, but it hadn’t stuck as others in the espionage community continued to call him The Highlander.
“Well?”
Sarah glanced at her friend. “What?”
June pointed toward one wall decorated with drawings of mountains, trees, and lakes. Many featured two stick figures.
“What’s this?”
“I got together with your substitute teacher, and we had the kids all draw pictures of Scotland.”
Sarah grinned. “Of course. I see it now.”
Murdoch chuckled as he unrolled the eight-foot poster depicting the places she’d visited in Scotland on her honeymoon.
Principal Winslow poked his head in the door. “Hey, guys! Back from the honeymoon?” His gaze darted to Murdoch, to Sarah, then back to Murdoch. “Did you have a good time?”
“It was great, thanks.”
He nodded, “I just wanted to welcome you home.”
“Thanks.”
Murdoch didn’t comment, only stared at the smaller man, making him visibly nervous.
“Okay then, I’ll leave you to get settled in again. June, can you help me out?” After Principal Winslow and June left, Sarah couldn’t help darting a gaze toward Murdoch, who still stood unsmiling, watching after the man. “Are you going to help me out, big guy?”
Murdoch crossed to her and helped her remove the decorations she’d put up last July on the day they’d met. He helped her tack the poster and accompanying decorations into place and then they both stood back to admire their work.
She glanced at him. “You’re smiling.”
“So I am.”
“Fun honeymoon? Are you happy when you’re married to me?”
He pulled her close, and buried his head in her neck, kissing the pulse point over her throat.
She giggled, and clasped a handful of his hair.
His beautiful dark eyes twinkled with exultation and banked passion. Another smile curved his cheek. “Aye, Mrs. Stirling. I’m verra happy when I’m married to you.” He kissed her neck again making her squeal. “Now, tell me again. I never tire of hearing it.”
“I love you, Murdoch.”
He smiled. “And I you, forever.”
Sarah remembered wishing, in this very classroom, that she could meet someone who would offer her a forever kind of love. Her lips curved as Murdoch bent down to kiss her.
Forever could be a long time with a ghost.
The End
Watch for BRODRICK next!
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Excerpt of BRODRICK by L.L. Muir
Larkin slowed down when she heard voices ahead. They were on the surgical floor, which was pretty much shut down for the night except for emergencies. But the lights were low. No people rushing around, no alarms going off.
She pressed herself against the wall and peeked around the corner. A couple of interns were making out against the wall about twenty feet away. She knew no other route to the exit she remembered, and getting lost in the circling halls might cost them everything.
She looked back at her captor and shook her head. “Two people,” she whispered. “They’re not going anywhere.”
He frowned and motioned her away, slouched against the wall, and took a peek. After he did, he turned back with a grin on his face. “Not long now, I reckon.”
She didn’t understand, and moved close for another look. The couple had stopped talking altogether and their kissing had turned frantic and passionate. She was embarrassed to be watching and stepped back from the corner to find herself holding onto the sash draped across the chest of the Scottish god. He glanced at her lips. His grin slipped away. And when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, she was strangely…relieved.
When she opened her eyes, however, she noticed a small black camera above the Scotsman’s head. Luckily, it was turned toward the intersection they hadn’t yet entered. She glanced around. No other cameras.
She tapped the man on the chest—a thrill unto itself—and pointed up. He seemed to understand the problem, moved a gurney beneath the camera, and slowly rotated it away from their path. She watched the couple as they slid along the wall and pushed their way through a doorway.
“They’re gone,” she whispered.
“Pity,” he said. “We might have been forced to remain here for hours.” He glanced at her lips again, licked his own, then gave her a wink that made Justice’s winks seem like frosty kisses in comparison. There was a playfulness in his eyes that Justice lacked, and a heat that made her think about the couple down the hall. “Extract yer mind from the gutter, lass. We’ve an escape to manage still.”
She chuckled lightly, then headed down the corridor, desperately hoping that things would look familiar. After all, she’d only been there once before. And another worry she kept to herself—that the fire-escape she remembered might actually have been in another hospital…
ALSO BY DIANE DARCY
Time Travel Romance She Owns the Knight
Bewitching the Knight Once in a Blue Moon
Fairy Tale Romance She’s Just Right
The Princess Problem
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p; Beauty and the Beach
The Texas Sisters Steal His Heart
Christmas Novella The Christmas Star
Stand Alone Stories Serendipity
A Penny for Your Thoughts How to Rewrite a Love Letter
Historical Western Romance Rachel
Copyright This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Murdoch: ©2016 by Diane Darcy The Ghosts of Culloden Moor series ©2015 Lesli Muir Lytle All rights reserved.~
Cover Art design by Kelli Ann Morgan
