by L. L. Muir
Balloon Monster.
Too bad Audie Hayes didn’t believe in monsters…
She kept her back to the curtains, afraid she might be tempted to go outside again. He’d been right about one thing—it wasn’t so late. It wasn’t unreasonable to go outside, sit in one of the chairs, and listen to the waves crash on the beach.
She could take the small plaid blanket off the foot of the bed—
No! Don’t be an idiot!
The guy was just a prop, just an actor hired to make her believe in the unbelievable, the unprovable. Lying on the other side of the room was the master planner.
Tears burned Audie’s eyes and warmed the side of her face. She couldn’t believe Nat had so little respect for her that she would trick her into believing a lie. How could she?
It was too painful to think about. And since there was nothing she could do until morning, she concentrated on the ticking of a small clock on the desk.
Tick tick.
Tick tick.
Tick tick.
Was he still out there? Had he taken the dog with him? Would he be paid for showing up?
Gah!
Audie went back to Nat’s bed, stole her pillow, and slipped back under her covers. She crushed the thing down over her own exposed ear to stifle her thoughts.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow…
CHAPTER NINE
“I’m going up to breakfast. If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss it.” Nat’s announcement was followed by the loud slam of a door.
Wait a minute. The memory of the night before slapped her in the face and brought Audie straight up in bed. I’m supposed to be the one slamming doors this morning!
She was up and dressed in five minutes, and while she brushed her teeth, she told herself her hygiene had nothing to do with the guy who may or may not be lurking around outside. He was part of the conspiracy. Don’t forget that, just because he’s got a hot body, a butter-melting brogue, and interesting hair.
And a puppy.
Crap.
Her gut burned as she climbed the stairs. Her stomach wanted food, but her heart wanted to get the pain over with. And for once, she wasn’t going to worry about the consequences.
She stepped out of the stairwell into the large dining area filled with people. So much for privacy.
Nat waved her arm, and when she caught Audie’s attention, she made a funny face and nodded at the person seated across from her. A large woman with a long ponytail—with a white streak through it.
The nerve!
Had they already compared notes? Did her friend already know the jig was up?
Natalie was grinning and it took incredible willpower not to stomp over and toss orange juice in her friend’s face. Instead, she strolled over and stood between the two traitors, put her hands on her hips, and waited for Nat to confess everything and apologize.
Not that she would forgive her.
“Audie!” Nat grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer as her co-conspirator jumped to his feet. “Sit here. Audie Hayes, let me introduce you to—”
“Tristan Bain, at yer service.” He inclined his head and while his attention dropped to the floor, she sucked in the sight of him. She hoped he would be less handsome in the light of day, but she was sorely mistaken.
He wore the same outfit as the night before—his kilt was an almost aqua blue with large yellow lines that created the pattern. A wide strip of it crossed his body and tucked into his unfashionably wide belt. A bag hung in front of his crotch, not that she looked. And the whole outfit was completed by a fake sword at his hip and a miniature shield propped against the leg of the table, which he quickly moved out of the way, then pulled the chair out for her.
Nat giggled. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
That was it. The word she needed to hear.
“Dreamy? Are you kidding me?” Audie shook her head and stepped back. She gestured to the whole Highlander package while she sneered at her friend. “He’s just what you ordered, right? You and that witch from the tea shop?” She changed her voice. “Get her to think she’s seen the Loch Ness Monster, then put a kilted god on the beach. Let her think she’s seen her true love?”
Her friend looked genuinely confused, but Audie ignored it. She knew Nat well enough to know her acting could win an Oscar when necessary.
She let the rest of her suspicions fly. “No wonder you were upset when we didn’t spot the monster last night. You had this guy all ready to play his part, but I had to see the monster first, right? Those were the rules?”
The crowded dining room fell silent, but she didn’t care. She had to get it all out because in another minute, she would have to get away from them all before she fell to pieces.
She moved closer to the table and lowered her voice. “You jump up and down, insisting that I respect the things you believe in, but you can’t stand to show me the same courtesy, can you? You can’t stand that I don’t believe in magic, so you tried to trick me into it, to give me no choice, right? You want to know what’s really pathetic? It was working. I saw what I was supposed to see—probably some remote-controlled toy—then I find this guy in the mist. Too bad you missed it all.”
She was careful not to look directly at the Scotsman. With her peripheral vision, she could tell he wasn’t happy by his stiff posture and the heat of his dark eyes drilling into her. She had to turn her head a little to completely ignore him, or she’d never get through it.
“But Loverboy broke the spell. Sweet dreams, he said. It was all a setup. Sweet dreams.” She snorted. It wasn’t pretty, but she couldn’t help it. “He may as well have said, ‘Dream about me, sweetheart, and then you’ll have your proof. And Natalie wins.’ But you know what? You don’t win, you lose. You lost me, Natalie Harber.”
And I’ve lost you. And for both, I will never forgive you.
It was the unspoken words that made her lose it, and she hurried for the stairway before some very heavy tears could fall. The high-pitched voice that followed her wasn’t Natalie’s, though.
“Did yer friend just say she saw Nessie?”
CHAPTER TEN
She was packed up and out of the room in a couple of minutes. She took all her things into the yard with her and sat on the wall, then used her phone to look for her own rental car. She didn’t know where she’d go, but she was done here.
A clumsy ball of floppy fluff ran on the beach in her direction. She hoped the thing would keep on running, but it didn’t. It leapt for the top of the wall and fell short. After two more tries, she held up her boots to give it a boost. Its stubby tail wagged its whole body and she had to hug the pup to keep it from falling back down to the beach.
It was determined to lick Audie’s tears away, and she was determined not to let it.
“From what I gather from the hullabaloo up there, yer distress has little to do with the fact that ye caught sight of Nessie.” Milton’s wife, Mary, came to the wall, sat down, and hung her legs over the edge. She ignored Audie’s possessions sitting between them and looked out at the water, shading her eyes with a flat hand held against her brow. Her fingers looked rough and twisted from a lifetime of hard work and arthritis.
The puppy took one look at her and sailed off the edge of the wall, then ran up the beach to the north.
“Nessie? No.” Audie sighed. “I’m sure I didn’t see anything.” The trouble was getting herself to believe it. After all, there was no real proof that the monster existed, let alone proof that she’d seen it.
Mary put her hand down and made a face that said she didn’t believe her. “Well, then. I must have heard ye wrong.”
“I admit I saw something, but I’m sure it was something they arranged.”
“Ah, yes. They.”
“I’m just not the kind of girl who believes in magic. You know?”
“Aye. I gathered that. But there is nothing magic about Nessie. She might be clever, but she is still an animal. Keen eyesight. Doesn’t let just anyone see her, ye ken.”
> Audie smiled and nodded, but wasn’t going to say anything to insult the woman, who was watching her closely.
“Must be something about ye she likes, though I canna see it for looking.”
Audie smirked. “Nothing magical about Nessie, huh? But she can tell if there is something special about a person standing on a shore, two hundred feet away?”
Mary laughed and tilted her head back and forth. “I suppose ye have me there.” She watched the waves for a minute or two, then spoke low. “Ye havenae asked me if I’ve seen her.”
Audie prepared for the lie to come. “Have you?”
“I have. Though, like ye, I’ll never admit to it.” She waved a hand toward the house. “Oh, my Milton kens it, but I’ve forbade him to speak of it to anyone. Ever. I’ll not commit the blasphemy of announcing it to the world. I simply accept it for the honor that it was.”
Audie winced. No matter what she said, it would sound insulting. “Look. I just saw a line of waves, that’s all.”
“Moving against the current, like?”
“Yes. I figured there are plenty of currents we can’t see—”
“Sounds like Nessie. Was there any mist about last evening?”
“Yes, but—”
“Smacks of our girl, then. But I’ll say no more.”
The whole conversation created a private sorority between them, but it was a club she couldn’t really belong to.
She tried to explain. “I think sometimes it might be fun to believe, you know? But I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Auch, that makes more sense then. That outburst in the dining room.”
“What do you mean?”
Mary nodded as she spoke. “Perhaps ye’re a wee bit jealous of yer friend’s open mind, aye?”
Jealous?
Audie considered that for a moment and remembered plenty of times over the years when she had to sit back and watch Natalie immerse herself into a culture that Audie had to watch from the sidelines. And she realized that part of her discomfort in those situations could definitely be chalked up to jealousy. It was job-envy, really. It was Natalie’s job to see what others didn’t have the imagination to see, and it was Audie’s job to guard the physical world. However, neither one of them was equipped to switch jobs.
“You’re right. I am jealous of the way she can just accept things. She’s not the suspicious type, which makes me nervous. It would be so easy for other people to take advantage of her. Like the woman who sold her the binoculars.”
“And ye’re too clever a lass to let others take advantage of ye?” Mary clicked her tongue. “I hope, for yer sake, that love isn’t always tied to faith, aye? For I wouldn’t want ye to pass up the important things, simply because ye can’t explain them.”
Audie suddenly felt like she’d exposed too much of herself and pulled her jacket tight around her for comfort more than warmth.
“That’s my cue, then,” Mary said, and pulled her legs up onto the grass, then climbed to her feet. “Ye might reconsider yer conspiracy theory.”
“Why is that?”
“Because, yer friends and my husband were comparing notes, so to speak.”
“Oh?”
“Perhaps it makes a difference to know that there is more than one witch in Scotland.” The woman chuckled. “And besides, ye’ve got all our guests worked up. They’d like to come out and look for Nessie, but ye’ve frightened them, aye?”
Audie looked over her shoulder and, sure enough, the dining room windows were lined with faces pressed up to the glass.
“Tell them I won’t bite.”
“Auch, nay. I doona like to lie.” Mary laughed all the way up the outer stairs that led to the upper floors.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Two witches? What difference would that…
One in the city. One who knew the kilted god?
If the witch in Edinburgh hadn’t sent Tristan Bain… And if Tristan’s witch wouldn’t necessarily know Nat…
Then the only crime committed by the woman in Edinburgh was to tell Natalie a legend in order to sell a couple old binoculars!
And sweet dreams was just a friendly way to say goodnight!
Oh, Nat!
Audie jumped to her feet, abandoned her things, and hurried to the sliding door. She found Natalie standing on the other side of it, her dancing eyes rimmed with red, her fact lined from two trails of tears. Audie spread her fingers and pressed them to the glass. With no hesitation at all, Nat lifted both hands and mirrored the move, then smiled her forgiveness before Audie could ask for it. And together, they slid the door sideways, out of their way, and hugged.
“I’m an idiot.” Audie said into Nat’s mass of natural curls.
“You are.”
“And paranoid. I don’t know what came over me. I see one hot Scotsman and I lose all reason.”
“You’re right. He is hot. But it was also a Full Moon last night. I’m sure, if I’d have seen him first, I’d have lost it too.” Nat leaned away and frowned. “But I can’t forgive everything.”
Audie’s stomach dropped. “I’m so sorry. It was an awful thing to say. I really don’t—”
“Not that. I think it’s healthy to vent every once in a while.”
“Then what?”
“You lied. You said you didn’t see Nessie!”
“Of course I didn’t see her. I’m sure it was just strain. What are the chances, right? We’d only been watching for a few minutes.” She shrugged. “But it was enough to make me wonder…and then I found that guy in the mist. I didn’t think he was real, and then he kissed me, and—I mean, I thought I might already be asleep. And I’m still trying to figure out if he’s—”
Nat’s mouth hung open. “What?”
“Perhaps, lass, I should give it another go.” Tristan’s toe-curling voice came out of nowhere. “So ye’ll ken for certain, mind.”
The humidity had done such a number on Nat’s mass of curls they had hidden a full-sized Highlander standing just inside the door of their room.
Her friend stepped back and blushed. “I forgot to tell you, we, uh, have company.”
Since Audie had already jumped to too many conclusions in the last twenty-four hours, she tried not to read too much into the fact that Nat had been alone in their room with the guy. After all, they’d hardly had time to get acquainted, let alone get chummy. And he’d been standing inside an open doorway.
She summoned a pleasant smile for him. “I need to talk to my friend alone for a minute. Could you excuse us?”
He pushed away from the door jam and strolled forward. “I’ll just be outside if ye need me, then.” His hand slid sideways along her waist as he passed on the way to the sliding door, and she could almost feel her body slipping into a trance, wanting to follow him.
Nat grinned. “You forget what you wanted to say?”
“I... Uh, no. I mean... I just wanted to say that, if you’ve called dibs, I completely understand. I mean, if he’s sticking around... You were the one who wanted to come look for the monster so you could see who your true love was—”
“Audie—”
“I mean, who cares who you were supposed to dream about when this guy is available—”
“Audie!”
“What? I’m trying to get out of your way, here.”
Nat made a face. “All he wants to talk about is you.”
Audie’s brains scrambled again. “Why?”
“Because he likes you, dummy.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Well, you might get it, if you play your cards right.”
“Natalie!”
Her friend rolled her eyes, but she knew better.
“I guess, if you don’t want him...”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Good. Because he’s…enthusiastic.” She pushed on Audie’s shoulders to turn her and shove her toward the yard. “Let’s not waste what time we have left, okay? And don’t worry about me. I’m content to sit in the sunshin
e and see what Nessie has up her sleeve today.”
“Natalie. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Her friend sighed. “You’re going to say there is no such thing as Nessie, aren’t you?”
Audie shook her head. “I was going to say there is no such thing as sunshine. Here, at least.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Audie slid the door closed behind her and was disappointed when she saw no signs of the mystery man in the kilt. But when she headed across the lawn to collect the luggage she’d left on the wall, he detached himself from the side of the building and caught up with a few strides of his very long, well-cut legs.
“Hello,” she said without turning her head.
“Good mornin’ to ye, lass.”
“I’m sorry for all the drama. I’m not usually a… Well, I’m usually a better friend than that.”
He made no comment, then hurried to pick up her bags when he realized where she was headed. When he straightened, he had a bag under each arm and two straps in each hand. “All fences mended then?”
“All mended, thanks. We hardly ever fight, which is a miracle, considering that we’re such complete opposites. But when we do, it’s a blowout. Then, when we see each other again, it’s like nothing ever happened.”
They turned around and headed back to the room. When they got inside, Nat was missing.
He piled the bags at the foot of her made bed. “Been friends for a long while, then?”
“All our lives. Our paths cross and uncross, but we always come back together again.”
“A rare thing.”
Her chest tightened and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she realized just how right he was. “Yes. Rare.” And speaking of rare, it wasn’t every day she stood alone with a stranger in a hotel room. And while her body was inclined to examine the possibilities, she didn’t have the nerve for it, so she hurried back outside and left it for him to close the door again.
