by Bess McBride
The elevator started with a jerk, and Fergus grunted at the sudden motion, thrusting out an arm to brace himself against the wall.
“I’m sorry! I should have warned you that this elevator jumps a bit when it takes off.”
“Aye, that it does,” he said, scanning the interior with distrustful eyes. His expression made Casey want to smile.
“Okay, well, I think the elevator stops with a clank and a clunk, so be ready.”
Fergus reached for the wall again, and sure enough, the elevator stopped with a jangle of metal and a decisive bounce.
“We’re here!” Casey said. She took Fergus’s hand and led him down the corridor to the room she had shared with Sarah.
The finality of their time together loomed near, and Casey struggled to catch her breath. Fergus followed her into the room and studied it with interest. In turn, Casey studied him—her beautiful Scottish Highland ghost. He loomed larger than life in the small commercially bland room.
“I just need to grab a few things from the bathroom to put in my suitcase,” she said.
Fergus nodded, unusually silent. He seated himself in a small easy chair and waited. Casey dropped her bag onto the bed and stepped into the bathroom to collect her shampoo and conditioner. She stopped at the sink to stare at herself in the mirror. How could she possibly walk away from him?
“Did ye come to Scotland only to visit Culloden, or did ye visit other places while ye were here?” Fergus called out.
“No, we flew into Edinburgh and drove around Scotland. We’ve been here about six days,” she responded.
“Did ye happen to visit my clan lands near Dunkeld? They’re verra beautiful.”
Casey left the bathroom and stopped to look at him.
“No, but the next time I come to Scotland, I will.” A thought occurred to her. “I hate that you don’t have a tombstone or a marker.”
“Weel, I do have a stone. It is where ye first saw me.”
“But that’s for a whole bunch of people, from different clans as well. Kind of a grab bag.”
“Aye, that is true.”
Her throat ached.
“What if I pay for a marker, a memorial, in a cemetery near your clan lands, your home?”
Fergus rose and pulled her into his arms.
“I hear the pain in yer voice, lass. Ye dinna need to do such. My mortal body will be long gone with nane to remember me. Until now mayhap. I ken ye will remember me, if only because I am a ghostie. But I will stay alive in yer memory, and that is enough memorial for me.”
Casey pulled out of his arms and searched through her bag for her phone.
“Stand there!” she said. “I have to take a picture of you.”
“Och aye! A photograph of me? What about a photograph of both of us together? I have seen visitors to Culloden posing in verra foolish ways to take such photographs.”
“You mean a selfie,” Casey said, adoring the man more and more with each passing minute.
“Aye, a selfie.”
He pulled her to him and slipped his arm around her waist. Casey took the selfie, and they scanned the photo. Fergus was a natural, very photogenic with his bright-red curls and sapphire-blue eyes.
“Ye are a bonny lass, Casey. I do wish I could keep a photograph of yer sweet face.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When she was out of breath, he lifted his head and smiled.
“Do ye think we would have liked each other so well had our circumstances been more favorable? Had ye been a lass in my time or I a lad in yers?”
“I hope so,” she murmured. “I like to think so.”
“Though truth be told, had circumstances been different, I would never have met ye, for I would have been well and truly dead at Culloden. Perhaps circumstances are as favorable as they can be.”
“And I should be grateful, huh?”
“No grateful, but perhaps we should accept what is to be and remember this day.”
“I won’t forget this day.”
He set her from him and gave her a gentle nudge. “Finish yer task. Yer sister awaits ye.”
“Aye,” Casey said.
She threw the last few things into her suitcase, threw her phone into her bag and shouldered it before pulling up the handle of her suitcase.
“I will carry yer trunk,” he said, picking it up. The small purple case looked incongruous in his hands.
“You can roll it,” Casey said.
Fergus looked at the wheels.
“Aye, so ye can!”
He set the suitcase down and pulled it behind him as he led the way to the door. If Casey had her way, they would have delayed so long that Sarah would have left in a huff.
Chapter Seven
They reached the lobby to find no sign of Sarah. She no longer sat on the sofa where they’d seen her last, and her luggage was missing. Casey checked the clock. They had been gone longer than the ten minutes Sarah had threatened, but not by much.
“She didn’t really leave, did she?” Casey muttered, part of her knowing that she had perversely hoped Sarah would strand her. And while such an action would give her more time with Fergus, it would break whatever fragile bond the two sisters had ever had. Casey searched the lobby, wondering if she would ever forgive her sister.
“Oh, Fergus, what did I do? I wished this! I did this!”
“Nay, ye did no such thing, lass. This is yer sister. I canna believe she just left ye here to fend for yerself.”
“Well, I’m not fending for myself exactly. She thinks I have you. But I actually did wish she would just leave so I would have more time with you. And now? I’m furious that she did. I’m the one with the problem!”
“Auch, lass. Ye are torn, that is all. Ask the lass if she has seen yer sister,” Fergus said, his face grim. He nodded toward the desk clerk, a young, petite blond female in a dark-blue suit.
Casey approached the desk.
“Hello...um...my sister was waiting down here for me, but she seems to be gone. Did you see her leave?”
“Good afternoon, madam. Are you Miss Casey Cole? I have a message here for you.”
“Yes.” Relief swept through Casey. Sarah hadn’t left her without a word. Somewhere, somehow, they could repair the damage to their relationship.
She took the folded note and took a step back. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Fergus waiting for her. He gave her a reassuring nod. With a shaking hand, Casey opened the note.
Sis,
I love you, but you’re making it hard. I don’t know who this crazy Scottish nut is, but I give up. You’re welcome to him. Maybe you’re even entitled to a last fling before you enter treatment. You kind of waited until the last moment though.
I took a taxi to the airport. I left the keys at the desk. Change your flight. Delay your treatment. Cancel it. Do what you want. You’re a big girl.
If I see you at the airport, I see you there. If not, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.
Sarah
Tears slid down Casey’s cheeks, and she whirled around to hide her face from the desk clerk. Thankfully, the lobby was empty except for Fergus and the clerk.
Fergus left the purple suitcase and moved toward her.
“What is it, lass? What has she done now?”
“She remembers she loves me. That’s the good news,” Casey said in a watery voice.
Fergus smoothed the tears away from her face.
“That is braw news. Where is she? Does she await ye outside?”
Casey shook her head. “No, she took a taxi to the airport. She left me the rental car outside.”
“We must hurry then,” Fergus said, taking her elbow, “to get ye where ye must be.”
Casey resisted Fergus’s attempts to move her.
“I need to get the keys,” she murmured feebly. She turned back to the desk.
“Sorry. My sister said she left some keys for me?”
“Did she? Let me have a look.” The clerk searched her area and produced them. “Yes! Here
you go!”
She handed Casey a set of keys. Casey stared at them, her mind racing.
“Excuse me,” she said to the clerk.
“Yes, madam?”
“I need the room for two more nights.”
“Oh! Well, let’s see if it’s available.”
“Auch, nooo, lass,” Fergus said behind her.
Casey ignored him. Short of arguing with him in front of the clerk, what could she do? If the clerk had an available room, then the fates had intervened. If she didn’t, then Casey was driving as fast as she could to the airport.
“Yes, that room is available, madam. Shall I put it on your card?”
“Yes, thank you,” Casey said, wondering what she was doing. She was delaying treatment for an aggressive cancer to spend a few more hours with her strange Scottish ghost. One didn’t just saunter into the clinic and jump into a chair for chemo. Treatment had to be scheduled. Nurses had to be available. If she missed her first treatment, it was possible she might have to wait a week, longer. Meanwhile, any errant cancer cells might be multiplying in some other organ.
She had already delayed treatment by a week to bring Sarah to Scotland, and while her doctor had signed off on the delay, he had warned her that she was at the maximum time recommended between surgery and beginning treatment. But she had wanted to share what could be a possible final trip with her sister...in case she couldn’t travel again. Casey had promised Sarah she would bring her to Scotland before she discovered she was ill, and she couldn’t bear to disappoint her by cancelling.
She had pled with her doctor to delay treatment by a week, and he had reluctantly agreed.
Was she nuts? Was her obsession to spend a few more hours with the stranger worth the risk?
Casey turned and looked at her wild Highlander. Unruly crimson red curls drifted to his shoulders. His darker auburn beard and mustache matched thick eyebrows. The blue-and-green plaid of his great kilt reflected the color of his eyes, eyes that now watched her with concern.
Casey knew without a doubt that she would never meet anyone like Fergus again. Ever. And if they only had hours left together, then delaying her treatment one last time would be worth it.
“I’ll just refresh your keycard,” the desk clerk said.
Casey hardly heard the clerk so lost was she in Fergus’s eyes.
I love you, Casey mouthed.
Fergus closed his eyes, and for a moment Casey thought he rejected her words. When he opened them, she saw a mixture of sadness and love.
“And I ye,” he said. He looked over her shoulder, and she turned to see that the clerk handed her a new keycard.
“Thank you,” Casey murmured. She took Fergus’s hand and led him back to her suitcase. “Well, here we are.”
“Indeed. Here we are. What are yer plans then?”
“Stay with you until you have to leave?”
“It is fair glad I am to have ye to myself a wee bit longer, but ye must now delay yer treatment. Disna the disease grow stronger within ye?”
“I hope not,” she said with a crooked smile. “The surgery removed all detectable evidence of the cancer, but it has a high rate of recurrence, and the treatment is to ensure that any undetectable runaway cells are killed.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell Fergus that she had already delayed treatment once.
Fergus blinked. She knew he probably struggled to follow the details, but he didn’t really have to know them. His love was more than enough.
“I fash about ye, and I am afeared that my presence clouds yer judgment, lass. If I had any strength, I would walk away from ye now and return to Culloden. Mayhap then ye will hurry home to begin yer treatment.”
Casey placed her palm against Fergus’s cheek.
“Your presence does cloud my judgment, but in a good way. I’ll never know if a delay of a few days in starting my treatment will affect my cancer, but I do know that leaving you will affect my heart and mind.”
She was less than honest about the amount of delay, but she had made her decision. She gave him only part of the truth.
“I had promised Sarah this trip last year before I found out I was ill. She still wanted to go, and I didn’t want to let her down. Just in case. So I asked my doctor if it would be all right for me to travel between surgery and treatment. He said he believed good mental health was just as important to the healing process as the chemotherapy and radiation. He thought if I began treatment in a happy frame of mind, then I could handle the treatment better. I thought I would have a great time and come back from Scotland happy, but I have been miserable...until I met you, Fergus. You make me happy.”
Fergus closed his hand over hers.
“And ye make me happy as well, mo chridhe. If ye are firmly decided, shall we take yer trunk back to yer room then?”
Casey nodded, and they went back up to the room to drop off her luggage. Fergus used the bathroom while Casey contemplated how best to contact Sarah. She couldn’t just leave her sister hanging at the airport. She didn’t want to hear the anger in Sarah’s voice, so she opted to use the hotel’s internet service and email her sister to let her know that she was staying for a few extra days.
Fergus returned with a smirk.
“I didna realize I drank so much tea,” he said. “I can tell ye that I had forgotten many of the small pleasures in life, one of them relieving oneself.”
Casey grinned. “So, you haven’t...ummm...in two hundred seventy years?”
“Nooo, no a drop.”
“That’s terrible for your bladder and kidneys.”
Fergus tilted his head inquiringly, and Casey laughed.
“Never mind. That’s a ‘drink lots of water and pee often’ comment. I have to call the airline and change my ticket and then call the doctor’s office to reschedule treatment. Do you want to watch TV while I do?”
“No need. I have watched many hours of entertainment on the mobile devices most tourists carry about. I will step onto the balcony and study Inverness in the twenty-first century...or watch ye. Either would delight me.”
“The balcony,” Casey said with rosy cheeks. “I don’t think I can concentrate if you stare at me.”
“Verra well then.” Fergus opened the balcony door and stepped out, and Casey played around on her phone until she was able to rebook her ticket and leave a message for the doctor’s office to delay treatment for a few days. She requested a response by email.
While she fiddled with her phone, an email came in from Sarah. Casey held her breath as she opened it.
Suit yourself.
Casey didn’t know whether to be relieved or saddened that the email didn’t say more. She didn’t want to hear more of Sarah’s vituperative comments, but she hated the coldness. They’d been playmates as children. Sarah had often been a bit more competitive, a bit more insecure about getting attention, but generally they had gotten along. Until Casey was diagnosed with cancer.
She opted not to answer Sarah’s email since her sister hadn’t asked any questions. Dropping her phone on the bed, she stood and stretched. Tension pulled at her back muscles, and her abdomen still ached slightly from the surgery.
She stepped out onto the balcony to stand beside Fergus.
“So, we have until midnight tomorrow night?”
“Aye, that is what Soni said.”
“I know I asked before, Fergus, but can I see her? Or talk to her? Where is she exactly? Can she just appear?”
“I dinna ken where she is at the moment, lass. She lives in yer time, now, in the twenty-first century. She is just a wee slip of a lass, but mighty powerful. She just appears when she wishes! I dinna think it a good idea if ye try to talk to her. She has been verra clear wi’ me. She canna let me stay wi’ ye.”
“Can I just try? Please? I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try.”
“Are ye certain, lass? She is a witch, ye ken, a braw witch, but she has powers.”
“I’m not afraid of a witch. I don’t really believe in witches
anyway.”
“Did ye believe in ghosts afore ye met me?”
Casey expelled some of the air she had been holding.
“Well, you’ve got me there. No, I didn’t. At least I hoped there weren’t ghosts wandering around.”
“But here I be.”
“Here ye be,” she said. “Call Soni. Ask her if I can talk to her.”
Chapter Eight
Soni! The lass wishes to speak with ye. I have told her it wouldna do her any good, but she insists.
As before, time stood still. Casey, still staring at him expectantly, froze in place.
The now familiar green mist of moving figures appeared, and Soni emerged from within the circle.
“Fergus! Here we are again. So soon! So yer Miss Cole kens about me, does she? And about ye? A ghostie?”
“Aye, she does. Ye gave no instructions that such information was to be kept secret.”
“Nay, I did not. Have ye made any plans yet for yer act of heroism, Fergus? I see only that ye have spent half yer time chasing after a lass.”
Fergus turned to look at Casey, still frozen.
“Aye, Soni. I am failing ye. I am failing her, and I am failing whatever cause ye sent me out to save. Ye gave me no tasking, no names, no places, and I fell into this lass’s clutches within seconds of ye giving me life.”
“Clutches, is it, Fergus? Truly?”
He smiled. Soni had a braw sense of humor.
“Aye! Clutches it was, Soni. But in all sincerity, I dinna ken how it was wi’ my brethren, but I have yet to discover my purpose here. Everything seems peaceful...at Culloden...here in Inverness. I havena heard any calls to save lives, rescue those in danger, or any matters in which I could put myself at risk for this act of heroism.”
“Have ye not, Fergus?”
“Nay, Soni. Naethin. Did ye have a plan for me?”
“Dear one, dinna be daft. Yer tasking was to perform one brave deed. Ye have one more day to show yer worth, to earn yer reward.”
“Soni, I dinna care about speaking with Prince Charlie. The rebellion is over. I followed him willingly, and I accept my fate. I dinna accept that the young lass here faces death, but I accept my own. I will strive to find that which needs saving, but dinna concern yerself with any reward other than giving me eternal peace. I am fair tired of that soggy moor. Send me to a place where the sun shines down upon my face and the lovely face of an angel smiles upon me. If the angel resembles the lass here, so much the better.”
