by L. L. Muir
The fog faded to dismal gray but thickened about him as if so many of Culloden’s 79 had arrived in their least-substantial forms. Wherever he’d been placed, night was falling. If it grew much darker, he’d have a hard time finding this lass he was supposed to help.
“Hello?” A woman called out to his right, and it took a moment to realize she was addressing him. He needed to remember he was visible now, even in the mist.
He turned carefully, nervously, to see what kind of woman hailed him. This noble deed business might be enjoyable if she were comely. As she moved closer, however, it was impossible to tell, for she was lit from behind by a small light in the distance.
Her reaching arm touched his side, then pulled back. The cloud between them dissipated, and a lovely, cautious lass stared up into his eyes. Straight hair, red perhaps. Dark eyes.
“A happy surprise,” he murmured, then lowered his mouth to hers. Hardly the move of a gentleman, but perhaps understandable for a man who had but two days to live?
She tasted of mint and smelled of pastries and sweetened cream. Careful not to frighten her away, he kept his hands to his sides and did not reach for her. He had to remember Soni’s advice.
For a long moment, she allowed a patient exploration of her tender lips before pulling back. Her laugh was as light as the white wisps surrounding them. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure you were real.”
“Precisely what I was thinking,” he lied.
An awkwardness descended between them and in unison, they took a step back. His racing heart beat perhaps a dozen times before she was able to lift her eyes to his again. And in an unspoken accord, they pretended the kiss had never happened.
“Sorry to bug you,” she said. “I just wanted to know if you were the one skipping rocks a little while ago?”
He’d kissed an American, then.
“Aye, lass. I was.” He caught the flash of her smile and a quick scan of his person.
She pushed her hands deep into her pockets and hunched her shoulders. “Boy, it got dark quick, didn’t it?”
“Aye. It did that.”
She stepped closer again and peered at him with a strange expression, as if she were greatly embarrassed, but the only thing he could think of, that might put her at ease, would be to kiss her again.
As if she’d read his thoughts, she bit her lips and turned her head aside, perhaps to keep them out of reach. “I was wondering...” She nodded at the water. “I know it was hard to see with all that mist, but did you... Well, maybe you couldn’t see anything, but…” She suddenly frowned at him. “Can I ask how old you are?”
A peculiar lass. What could she be thinking?
“I am as old as the hills,” he said. “As young as the morning.”
She pointed at his shoulder. “Sorry. In the dark, I didn’t see your hair.”
He looked down to find that his dark blond locks now sported a solid and equally long shock of white hair. From the corner of his eye, he saw her wipe the back of her arm across her lips and increase the space between them. Obviously, she thought she’d kissed an inappropriately older man, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
He picked up the strange bit of white hair and waved it at her. “Did ye think I was as old as this, then?”
She squinted at his face, then smiled in relief. “You don’t look old at all.”
“Truth be told, I’ve had a good fright, and I’ve heard that can account for such an anomaly.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her lower lip protruded slightly, and since he was still interested in those lips, he noticed.
“No pity needed, but I thank ye. The past is past. In fact, looking into yer kind face has made me forget everything that came before. I am a new man.” He held out his arms in celebration of just that, and didn’t mind that she looked her fill. But enough of preening. “Go on with ye, now. How is it I can be of help? Are ye lost?” He certainly hoped not. He wouldn’t be much help until he knew exactly where Soni had deposited him.
“Not lost. No. I just…” She huffed out an impatient breath. “Look. I’ll just say it, okay?”
“O. K.”
“Did you see anything? When you were skipping rocks, did you see that thing moving up the lake?”
Tristan squeezed one fist tight so his fingernails would bite into his palm and help him keep his expression clear. He knew times were different in the twenty-first century, but he wasn’t about to confirm that she’d seen the monster. In his day, any woman who claimed such things were thought of as witches and persecuted or killed for it. Though it was true that times had changed, he could tell by her unease that she would rather she’d seen nothing at all. So he obliged.
“Something in the water, then? Like a boat?” He shook his head. “I could see nothing, lass. Not even the stones I threw. I could only listen for them.”
“Okay,” she said, then started backing away. “Just what I needed to know. Thank you.”
“But I would put the same question to ye, lass. Did ye see some strange bit of debris that has ye spooked?”
Her smile disappeared. Her eyes narrowed. “Just waves. Interesting waves. That’s all.” She gave him her back and began picking her way down the rocky beach.
He raised his voice to be certain she could hear. “If ye wouldn’t mind, can ye verify that this is, indeed, Loch Ness?”
She circled and came back, shushing him as she came. “People are trying to sleep.” She pointed to the house just beyond a short wall to their backs. Lights shone from three stories.
He lowered his voice, pleased she’d come so near again. “Auch, lassie. ‘Tisn’t so late as that, surely. And there are lights on—”
“You know what I mean.”
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have shouted. I seem to have lost my way a bit in the fog, and wondered which loch I’ve stumbled across, aye?”
She shook her head and punched her hands into her pockets again. “You just want to make fun of me.”
“Perish the thought.” He recalled Soni’s instructions and was immediate contrite. “I am sober as a kirk mouse. How might I help?”
“Obviously, I did see something.” She lifted her chin a bit. The perfect angle for kissing. “But I’ll deny it.”
“Easy now. That doesnae mean it was a mythic creature, aye?”
“Like I said. Just a strange wave. Probably nothing. I just thought, since you were closer, you might have seen it better.” She watched his eyes, his face, trying to catch him in a lie, no doubt.
“Alas, my attention was on the stones at my feet. Studying them is a weakness, to be sure.”
“Okay. Well, thanks anyway.” Her gaze dropped slowly down his body before she turned.
He feared she found him wanting, since he couldn’t validate what she’d seen. But surely there was a more noble deed he might do for her.
“Wait. Are ye certain there is nothing else I might help ye with?” He gestured around him. “I’ve nothing pressing, as ye can see. Perhaps ye’re in need of a strong arm?”
She laughed ever so lightly. The fact that it was directed at him, and that he was not just an eavesdropping ghost, sent a fissure of pleasure up his spine.
“No, but thanks,” she said.
His chest pinched in disappointment. He so wished that she had been part of his quest. A pleasant looking lass with dark eyes, who tasted like mint… “Well, then. Sweet dreams to ye.”
She waved and turned away, but she’d only taken a pair of steps before she turned to face him again. “Are you kidding me?” There was acrimony in both her voice and her eyes, though it was getting harder to see the latter. Once again, she was a faceless shadow.
Worried he’d said something amiss, he closed the distance between them. He had to look into those eyes just once more, to make certain he hadn’t offended—so much for being gentle.
He was wise enough to stop when her posture changed. Her hackles were up.
“What is it, lass? What did I say that has upset
ye so?”
“Sweet dreams?”
He shrugged, still not understanding.
“Who hired you?” She searched the beach in both directions, but the fog was gone. A small stretch was lit by the bulb on the dock and the windows from above, but the space was empty but for the two of them.
“Hired me?” He laughed. “To do what, then?”
“To stand out here and…” She gestured toward the dark waves, “throw rocks in the water to get my attention?” Her eyes were only slits now. “Or were you throwing them out there so I would see…whatever it was?” She looked down to his boots and back up again, then sneered. “You work for that witch, don’t you?”
It was now his turn to be defensive. “I will thank ye not to speak of my friend in that manner. She would do nothing malicious, so whatever ye’re thinking has happened, ye’re wrong.”
“But she sent you here?”
“In a manner of speaking, aye. So certain was she that someone here needed aid, that some woman was in trouble, she delivered me here. Perhaps she was mistaken, but I’ll permit no ill to be spoken of the lass.”
The woman scoffed. “You call every woman a lass?”
He put his fists on his hips, exasperated. “It’s a common term used for females. Surely ye’re not so ignorant.”
She gasped as if he’d slapped her. “Ignorant?”
He recalled that Americans didn’t appreciate the term, especially when used to describe them, so he held up his hands to cry peace. “Our conversation has gone down a mean road, aye? Perhaps it is best that we end it before one of us loses his temper. I am beginning to suspect it was the breath of a malcontent fairy and not a magical mist that threw us together—”
“Hah! Magical mist?” She gave him a patronizing nod. “And Natalie didn’t have anything to do with you being here? Nobody paid you to come stand on this beach and wait for some American chick to come panting after you?”
The image tugged a smile out of him and he couldn’t resist eating up the distance between them with one smooth step. “Tell me, lass,” he said quietly, “were ye panting after me? I could not tell, what with yer lips so close to mine. Give us another kiss, and this time, I’ll be sure to listen for it.”
She lifted her hands to his chest, and for the smallest instant, he thought she might oblige him, but then she shoved him away. “Not going to happen.”
He could still feel the pressure of her fingers, which was glorious. But it also brought back Soni’s words. A quick apology might be the best course.
“I understand, miss. I could have been more patient. More kind. Perhaps, more gentle even. But if ye claimed I have not been attentive enough, I would beg to differ.”
“Attentive?”
“Aye. Since ye stepped through the fog, I can say truthfully that I have not once thought about the stones at my feet.”
She rolled both her head and her eyes at the same time. “Okay. Whatever. I’m going to leave you to it, then—” Her attention caught on something behind him. “What…”
Tristan turned quickly, braced for anything, even an attack. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword and he was relieved to know it had made the journey with him. The patter of little feet on wet ground and a blur of white fur were the only warnings he had before a large mop launched itself at him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tristan quickly put one foot behind to keep from falling onto his backside while he did his best to get a hold on the little beast.
At a loss of what to do, he turned to face the lass with his arms full, though he would prefer that she was the one filling them. As she gazed down on the floppy animal, her expression was completely transformed. This was the woman he’d kissed, not the mercurial lass he’d been havering with.
The dog laved his face with its wee tongue, and she laughed. Reluctantly, she moved closer in order to pet the wee beastie.
“The dog is not mine,” he confessed, while straining to keep his mouth out of reach of its tongue.
“Oh? Well, he certainly likes you.”
The little monster seemed determined to give him a proper kiss, so he held the wiggling body out away from him, ostensibly, so he could get a good look at it. But in truth, he didn’t want the lass to see how awkward he was with it, especially now that she had softened toward him once again. And a dog was to thank for it.
Lord help him, how he disliked dogs.
Dogs enjoyed digging. And there had been one, back home, that would unearth anything he cared to bury. In fact, many of the stones he’d squirrelled away had to be reburied time and time again because the damned beast kept retrieving them. And worse, they’d be gone altogether, no doubt buried by the dog and lost forever.
A flood of memories came at him like a wave filled with sharp rubble and his muscles strained to hold his position. Now was not the time. No matter how desperately he’d been hoping to remember his past life, he had to set the memories aside until he’d dealt with the woman.
The pup in his hands looked much like that other dog. Where the ancient beast had been red all over, this one was white with small tan spots and a tan ear, but the breed was the same.
“This must be the puppy Mr. Milton was talking about.” She gestured to the house behind. “He said he’d put up notices that it was here, on the beach. Thought maybe it fell overboard and is waiting for its owner to come get it. But no one has. He’s fed it some scraps, but he said it won’t let anyone near it.” She looked at him askance. “Are you sure it’s not your dog?”
“I am certain, lass. I havnae had a dog for centuries—auch, or so it seems.
“Well, maybe it’s time for another one.” She rubbed the pup’s head, then turned and took her wide smile away with her. “Good luck,” she called over her shoulder. “Oh, and tell the witch it didn’t work.”
He looked at the pup. The pup looked back.
“That’s it?” He put the question to the pup, but loudly. “She kisses me like that and runs away, as if she gets kissed like that every day?”
He was pleased to hear her groan. It sounded as if she hadn’t gone far, but he did not turn to see. Instead, he pulled the pup’s body against his chest, put a supporting arm beneath it, and began stroking its head and rubbing its ears as if it gave him great pleasure to do so. In truth, it was the best way to keep it from licking him again.
The pup didn’t seem to mind his artifice.
Unfortunately, his taunt didn’t bring the woman back. And so, with no obvious alternative, he moved away from the water in search of a soft patch of grass upon which to pass the night.
He set the dog on the ground, then sat beside it. “I suppose we shall have to wait.” The smile on his face was due to the fact that, after nearly two hundred seventy years, he might finally get a chance to sleep—like the living!
~ ~ ~
Audie forced her feet to keep moving—away from the heart-stopping Scotsman in his bright blue plaid with yellow stripes. Vulnerable was not a state she was used to being in, and it would only get worse if she spent another minute with him and his adorable puppy.
“Probably lying about that too,” she muttered. Milton had said it wouldn’t let anyone near it, and suddenly it’s jumping into that Scotsman’s arms? Liar!
She was pretty hurt that Nat would set her up like that. Oh, who was she kidding? She was devastated. But the betrayal that hurt the worst was her own.
How could she have entertained the idea that she’d really seen the Loch Ness Monster? And worse, how could she have been so gullible to think that the first random guy in a kilt was her reward for sighting Nessie?
What an idiot!
This wasn’t a scene from some movie where the hero steps out of the fog, pulls the heroine into his arms, and seals their love with a kiss. This was her life. She’d gotten completely carried away and she couldn’t lay all the blame on her former best friend or the guy who was just doing his job.
If she’d have gone inside when Nat had, none of it
would have happened. But no. She had to throw reason out the window because of a floating log, followed by a perfectly human man standing in the mist. Completely unrelated. Completely…
That kiss was something, though, wasn’t it?
Audie snatched up the binoculars without slowing, made it to the sliding door and grabbed onto the handle like it was a lifesaver and she was in the middle of the ocean. Only she wasn’t in danger of drowning. She was in danger of making an absolute fool of herself.
Nat had left it unlocked, as promised, so she slipped inside, locked the door and pulled the curtains across the glass in case the cutest thing on earth came sniffing around—along with his puppy.
The light was on in the bathroom, the door was cracked open, leaving the room illuminated enough to move around on the pink Formica floor without bumping into anything. She went directly to her bed, exchanged the binoculars for her pillow, then lunged across the room to whack her friend right in the snoring face with it.
The girl barely stirred. “Wha...”
Nat got that way when she’d taken a sleeping pill. There was no use waking her up to yell at her when she wouldn’t remember it in the morning. So Audie got undressed in the bathroom, in case those curtains were see-through, and slipped under the covers.
The bed was nice and soft, which only made her madder. But the sheets were thick, cool, and clean which improved both her mood and her chances of getting to sleep. Unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes, she got a nice clear picture of the rock-hard statue out by the lake—er, loch. Except for the white streak in his dark gold hair—really, there was no other color that could describe it—he was the epitome of a dreamy Scottish Highlander in a kilt.
Women all over the world went to Scottish Festivals, just for the slight hope they might come across a guy like him. Just to prove that there were such creatures roaming the earth.
Kind of like Nessie.
And now she was one of them. Professional Monster Spotter. And she’d bagged two in one night.
It had been dark outside, and foggy. It was a miracle she could remember his face at all, but thanks to that lock of stark white hair, she’d stared long and hard enough to burn his image into her brain. Dark, gentle eyes. Shoulders wide and high. His skin pulled tight over them like a slightly over-inflated balloon animal.
