by B. J. Scott
“What sort of stipulations?” she asked.
“I will explain them to you. But if na followed to the letter, all will be for naught,” MacBain said with a hint of foreboding in his tone.
Katherine wished the lawyer would get to the point and stop speaking in riddles. “I went over the financial statements you sent, along with pictures of my Aunt’s home. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but a few pounds and a rundown farm are not much to be excited about. I’m here out of respect for my aunt and to settle her affairs.”
“Och, you are mistaken, my dear,” Mr. Murray said. “Do as instructed and you stand to inherit a great deal.”
The more they explained about terms of her inheritance, the more tempted she was to get up and leave. But in all fairness to the solicitors, they were only doing their job, all be it in a very roundabout way. So Katherine decided to hear them out and listen to the rest of the will before making a decision. She needed a place to stay, a haven where Ethan wouldn’t find her. And perhaps even more important than her need for a hiding place, was a chance for her to get to know about her family history. Her parents were gone and so was her grandmother. Given what happened between her and Ethan, she was feeling very much alone. Somehow being here in Scotland gave her a sense of belonging. And while she couldn’t explain it, for the first time in many years she actually felt like she was home.
“Shall I continue?” MacBain asked.
Katherine offered a hesitant nod. “Please, go on.”
After reading the first five pages of the will aloud — which to Katherine was a lot of legal jargon and nothing out of the ordinary — Malcolm MacBain paused again.
“Tell her.” Mr. Murray jabbed his partner in the side with his elbow.
MacBain bobbed his head in agreement with his partner. “In order to inherit, you must remain within the confines of the property known as Glen Heather for a sennight. After which time, you may take possession of Agnes’s home, the land, and all that goes with the estate. The terms of the will must also be kept confidential. Under no circumstances are to discuss them with anyone. Regardless of any reason.”
“That doesn’t sound so daunting,” Katherine said. It was only for a week and until she was confident Ethan had time to forget his vendetta against her and had moved on, she had no intention of returning to America. At this moment time was irrelevant.
“If you accept the terms you must be prepared to dree yer ain weird,” Duncan Murray said.
“I beg your pardon?” Katherine narrowed her gaze and scratched her head.
“It means to be prepared to face one’s own destiny, lass.” MacBain clarified.
“I caught most of what was said, and I understand the terms of the will.” Katherine replied. “But I’m not sure what any of this has to do with my so-called destiny. “What if I need supplies or just want to take a daytrip somewhere? I’ll go nuts staring at four stone walls.”
“Glen Heather is a lot larger than four walls. And is at least one thousand of what you Americans refer to as acres,” Duncan Murray said, his tone matter-of-fact. “You may venture outdoors, but you must remain on the estate for the determined amount of time, no matter what transpires.”
As the words left his lips a chill skittered down Katherine’s spine. Since she didn’t know anyone is Scotland, the stipulation that she not discuss the terms of the will didn’t concern her as much as the others. No matter what transpired was a very open-ended statement that could mean anything, giving her cause for concern. But did she really have any choice but to comply? She was alone in strange country, exhausted from her trip, and needed a place to stay before she collapsed, somewhere Ethan would hopefully never find her. And if she hoped to learn all she could about her Scottish roots, the cottage of her ancestors seemed like the best place to start.
“Do you accept the terms of your aunt’s will?” MacBain asked.
“Yes. I’ll do as requested.” She really had no choice and nowhere else to go.
Mr. Murray opened the desk drawer, took out a carved, wooden box, and handed it to Katherine, along with a brass skeleton key. “This must be taken to the croft and opened when the time is right, and na before.”
Katherine studied the two items. If she guessed correctly, the small chest looked to be quite old and if measured would be about twelve inches long and nine inches wide. “This key looks far too big for the tiny lock on the box. Are you sure it’s the right one?”
“That will unlock the door to the croft, my dear. As Duncan explained, you will find a way to open the box when the time is right, and na before,” MacBain repeated his colleague’s words verbatim.
“The airline lost my luggage.” She riffled through her carryon bag. “Aside from the clothes I’m wearing all I have is a toothbrush, deodorant, shampoo, Advil, some mints, and a couple of granola bars I stashed in here.” Katherine didn’t feel the need to mention the box of tampons. “I’ll have to go shopping for groceries and—”
“There are plenty of items of clothing you can wear at the croft. You’ll find what you’ll need in Agnes’s chamber.” Duncan Murray paused, and studied her from top to bottom before continuing. “You are about the same size as she was, so we’ve no doubt her clothes will fit. And we’ve also taken the liberty of seeing that your aunt’s home is well stocked with food, wine, and anything else you might need.” He glanced at his partner. “Is that na right, Malcolm?”
“Aye. However, the hour grows late and she must arrive at her destination before nightfall for the will to be valid.” MacBain stood and smoothed his hands down the front of his suit jacket, then looked at Katherine. “You mustna dally any longer. The road can be treacherous to navigate once it grows dark.”
“How am I supposed to get there?”
MacBain stepped forward. “Mrs. Brown will give you the keys to Agnes’s late model Ford. You’ll find it waiting for you at the curb in front of the building. It isna fancy, but will get you there.” He cupped her elbow and tugged her to her feet. “You have dallied here long enough. You must be on your way before it is too late.”
Geeze, what’s with the sudden here is your hat, what’s your hurry attitude all of a sudden? First they keep me waiting and now they are all but shoving me out the door.
She was tempted to share her thoughts, but detected the urgency in their voices. And while they continued talking in riddles, Katherine was too tired to listen to any more. She dropped the key into her purse and tucked the box under her arm, assuming she’d find out soon enough what it contained. But right now, she just wanted to find the croft and get a good night’s sleep.
“Thank you, gentlemen. This has been … interesting. Shall I return in a week to finalize the will?” Katherine offered her hand to Duncan Murray.
Instead, Duncan grasped her wrist and gave it a shake. “That willna be necessary. If you stay on the property the required time, all will be clear to you and things will be as they were intended.”
“Great. More riddles.” Katherine headed for the door, then halted and spun around. “You didn’t give me—” She was about to ask for directions to the croft, but both men were gone.
Katherine blinked several times in disbelief. Men don’t just disappear into thin air. She scratched her head and scanned the office.
“Ouch!”
She’d pinched her forearm to make sure she was awake. If not for the wooden box tucked under her arm, she’d swear the entire thing had been a dream. There didn’t appear to be another exit other than the doorway in which she stood, so they must have left the office, without her seeing them pass. Katherine had no doubt she was suffering from jetlag and was very close to falling asleep on her feet, so it didn’t surprise her that her mind was playing tricks on her. Katherine gave her head a rough shake. Between the violent blowup she’d had with Ethan, the flight from Hell, this rendezvous with peculiar little men who spoke in riddles and then vanished without a trace, she’d had enough drama, mystery, and excitement to last her a lifetime.
From the moment they met, she’d sensed something odd about MacBain and Murray. However, she wasn’t about to hang around and find out what it was. She’d accomplished what she’d come for. The reading of her aunt’s will completed, she knew what she had to do to inherit. She had the keys to the cottage, providing her with a safe place to hide from Ethan — and she was now in possession of a mystery box she hoped contained information about her family’s past. Instead of looking for rational answers to a myriad of questions flooding her mind, she’d get the car keys from the secretary and be on her way.
Upon entering the reception area, Katherine was greeted by yet another surprise. Mrs. Brown had also left the office. “Now what do I do?” she asked aloud as she approached the desk. Relieved when she spotted a set of car keys, she picked them up and was about to leave, but hesitated when she noticed a rose-colored envelope with her name on it. The letter looked exactly like the one Mrs. Brown had placed in the pile of outgoing mail — which coincidently was also gone. If the secretary went to the post office, it would explain her absence. But it didn’t explain some of the other odd things she’d experienced. Since the letter was obviously intended for her, she broke the seal on the envelope, and withdrew a piece of parchment.
“Dear Miss MacDonald,” she began to read aloud. “Enclosed you will find directions to the ancestral home of your great-aunt, Agnes Catriona Grant. You must arrive before sundown on the day you receive these instructions, and remain there for a sennight as outlined in the will. Open the box when the time is right and all will be revealed to you. Good luck and Godspeed.”
She started down at the note, stunned, to learn Agnes’s middle name was Catriona, the Gaelic form of Katherine. No one had ever mentioned it before. Not even her grandmother saw fit to let her in on that bit of information. And for the life her she couldn’t understand the need for keeping something as simple as a name secret. Yet any time she asked Grand about her childhood in Scotland, her sister, or the Grant family history, she changed the subject. Being denied the information and kept in the dark when she was a child didn’t bother her, however it bothered her now. She couldn’t help wondering what else she didn’t know.
When Katherine turned sixteen, her Aunt Agnes sent her a birthday card, along with an invitation to come to Glen Heather for a visit. Excited about the prospect of a vacation in Scotland, she showed the note to her grandmother. Margaret’s face blanched white as she snatched the card and forbade Katherine to speak of it again. Upon questioning her mother, she got a similar response. She’d always assumed it was because Agnes was an eccentric old spinster with peculiar ways, so she never really gave it much thought — until now.
She loved and respected her parents and grandmother, so was sure they felt they had good reason for keeping things from her when she was a child, believing it was for her own good. But when she was old enough to understand, they should have said something. Especially if what they withheld could have a direct influence on her life now. Unfortunately it was too late to make amends. They were gone and she’d never be able to ask them why. This box and the cottage of her ancestors were the last ties she had to her family roots. If she ever hoped to learn about the Grant Clan’s past, she’d have to find out for herself.
After reading the directions to the croft in silence, Katherine folded the letter, and tucked it into her purse. Since she had never been here before, the names of streets meant nothing, but she was sure she’d figure out the way to go. If not, she’d stop and ask directions. She scooped up the car keys and dropped them into her jacket pocket, then trotted down the stairs.
Stepping onto the side walk, Katherine stared skyward, shocked to find a light snow gently falling and collecting on her lashes. Awfully late in the season for snow, she thought. It was June and had been sunny and mild when she entered the office building. But she’d always heard the weather in Scotland was unpredictable. As Grand used to say, “If you wait five minutes, the weather will change and not always in a way you’d expect.” But snow was certainly a surprise she never anticipated.
A sudden rush of brisk air prompted Katherine to huddle beneath her light cotton jacket. She raised her collar and blew on her hands for warmth, wishing she had a pair of gloves. But she’d never expected to need winter clothing at this time of year. Still trying to make some sense of what had transpired over the last few days, she gave the law office another quick glance, before heading for the car parked at the curb. When MacBain mentioned a late model Ford would be waiting for her, he wasn’t kidding. But she didn’t expect a throwback to the late 1970s and couldn’t help wondering if the thing still ran. After fishing the keys from her pocket, she climbed inside, relieved when the car started on the first try.
Uncertain which way to go, Katherine plucked the directions from her purse, then compared them to a map she found on the passenger seat. “If I follow Carney Street to the end and make a left onto Dunheed, I should hit a dirt road that will take me to the estate,” she said aloud, then returned the note to her bag. She rubbed her eyes with her fist and sighed. Starving and starting to feel lightheaded, she was fading fast, so she retrieved a granola bar from her carry-on and a tin of Root Beer she’d purchased up at the airport. A massive sugar fix was just what she needed if she hoped to stay awake and keep the car on the road. After devouring the granola treat and taking a few swigs of the soda, she was ready to finish the last leg of her trip. The sun was setting fast and she knew she needed to hurry, so she cranked up the tunes on the radio, eased away from the curb, and stepped on the gas.
Driving on the opposite side of the road proved to be yet another hair-raising experience Katherine wasn’t quite prepared to tackle. Fortunately, the office building was located on the outskirts of town and traffic was light. After riding the curb for about four or five blocks, almost sideswiping a delivery van, a near miss with a cab, and a man on a bicycle, she began to feel the tension lifting. The dirt and gravel road to her Aunt’s cottage was right where anticipated, but the dark, tree-lined lane looked far from inviting. To add to her stress, snow had started to fall again, making the road slick and reducing her visibility. As she made the turn, Katherine prayed there wasn’t much farther to go.
Twenty-five minutes on the pothole infested road and Katherine wondered if she’d missed the turn off. Or perhaps the lawyers had supplied her bogus directions. Given the way her day had gone so far, she wouldn’t be surprised.
While she was never known to be a quitter, after almost nodding off twice, Katherine pulled over to the shoulder of the road and rested her head on her hands. There was no way she could continue and any hope of finding the croft in time was fading fast. Turning around and heading back to town seemed like her only option. The sun was about to set, and according to the will, if she arrived after sundown, she’d have to forfeit the property anyway. There was no doubt in her mind that Ethan would be looking for her no matter where in the world she fled. But facing that worry would have to wait until the morning. For now, she’d find a comfy hotel and put up for the night.
As Katherine raised her head and prepared to go back, an old sign caught her eye. The wood was rotting, the paint chipped, and the lettering was so faint, she could hardly make it out. But if she wasn’t mistaken it said Glen Heather. She was almost there and would never have seen the sign had she not stopped to rest. Blurry-eyed from exhaustion and anxious to arrive at her destination, she threw the gearshift into drive and pulled onto the road. If she quickened her pace, there was still a chance of getting to the croft before the sun set.
But fate had other plans. As she rounded a curve, she slammed on the brakes.
“Lunatic!”
Blocking her path was a man on horseback. The fool had stopped in the middle of the road. Katherine squinted to get a better look and would wager he wore garments from medieval times and wielded a claymore above his head. What’s more, she’d swear she knew him.
She hit the horn, but the man didn’t budge, and the car continue
d toward him. “Oh shit!” Clutching the steering wheel with a white-knuckle grip, Katherine pumped the brakes, willing the vehicle to stop. Instead, the tires hit a slick patch of road, and the car skidded sideways. Hanging on for dear life, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. Thankfully, the Lord was listening and the vehicle came to a halt only inches away from a huge oak tree.
Katherine pried her fingers from the wheel, did a quick body check for injuries, then released the seatbelt and climbed out of the car. She slammed the door, intent on giving the man a piece of her mind.
“What on earth were you thinking? You could have been killed. We both could have been killed,” she chided as she rounded the vehicle. But when she reached the gravel, she froze in her tracks.
“M’lady,” he said and dipped his head.
Dumbfounded, she stared back at him in silence. By far the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on, Katherine fought to keep her mouth from gaping open in awe. If a man could be beautiful, he truly was. Unbound, raven hair cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. Piercing blue eyes looked right through her as if he knew her innermost thoughts and desires. High cheekbones, a perfectly sculpted nose, and a strong jaw covered with a day’s worth of dark stubble completed his dashing features. With his broad chest, narrow waist and muscular thighs, he reminded her of a Greek god. When he smiled, her breath caught and her stomach did a quick flip. He reminded her the man in her dreams.
Katherine dragged her fingers though her hair. This was insane. He couldn’t be real. And if he wasn’t a figment of her imagination, there had to be a medieval reenactment going on in the area, she rationalized. Regardless, she had no idea who he was or why he was in the middle of the road on horseback. Common sense told her to get back in the car and leave. Yet she was drawn to him by an undeniable force she couldn’t explain. Instead of fleeing, she moved in his direction. But as she did, his horse reared up on its hind legs and a bright halo of light surrounded the pair before they faded and vanished.
