Katie's Highlander

by Maeve Greyson

  So, there it was. Dwyn had just admitted it. Katie had been sent whether she knew it herself or not.

  Ramsay bumped the door open with his backside and eased out through it. “Leave it be. Just leave it, aye?” Admittedly, he’d found Katie t’be…t’be…no words came to him sufficient enough t’describe the lass. She was…different…in a good way. ’Twas true, he wished she’d stay in Brady a while. He wouldna mind getting t’know her. But on his terms—not because of the meddling of Dwyn and the goddesses. “Leave it,” he repeated.

  “ ’Tis already done, son.” Sarinda gave him a motherly look before returning to the stove. “Ye ken well enough that we each have a fate. A predestined path in this life.” She gave a slight shrug of one shoulder as she stirred the pot on the stove. “Granted, ye did trip up a bit wi’ that money-grubbin’ whore, Sylvia, but now ye’ve cleared that stone from yer path and ’tis time ye continued on as ye should.”

  Ramsay stepped out onto the landing of the steps leading to the courtyard below, still holding the door ajar. He pointed at Dwyn. “Leave it I said. No more meddling.” He slammed the door shut behind him and bolted down the stairs.

  Chapter 6

  “Lore a’mighty.” He ground his teeth as he yanked open the Jeep door and threw himself in behind the wheel. “If that poor unsuspectin’ lass has the least bit a sense, she’ll run like hell and no’ look back.”

  Grudgingly, he prayed she wouldna run, prayed she’d stay in Brady—at least for a little while. As he drove through the employee-only roadway of the park and exited through the rear gate, it bothered him no small amount that this woman whom he’d just met had managed to plant herself solidly in his thoughts.

  “D’ye ne’er learn, Ramsay?” he growled to his scowling reflection in the rearview mirror. Apparently not, he silently observed as the tightness in his chest eased up a bit when he pulled into the parking lot of Abernathy’s auto repair shop and spotted Katie sitting on the wooden bench out front.

  Even in her ball cap, T-shirt, and faded jeans with split knees, the woman was a rare beauty, more shining and brighter than the North Carolina sunshine. Long white-blond hair. Constant smile—even now when she should be sportin’ one hell of a whisky headache, the woman sat there smiling.

  He thought back to last night, to their ride through the forest. The lass had a temperament that resembled a sparklin’ spring tumblin’ down a Highland mountain. Katie Jenson was a welcome sweet breeze into the stale darkness his world had been of late.

  I have lost my feckin’ mind. She’s just passin’ through. She’ll be gone in but a few day’s time. But no matter how much he repeated the thought, deep down he felt like Katie had been sent here for a reason—and the conversation in the kitchen had confirmed his suspicions. They were meant t’meet…and who knows what else?

  Goddesses have mercy on m’soul. I beg ye, stop yer damn meddlin’. Why could life no’ be simple? He got out of the truck and closed the door a bit harder than he’d intended.

  “Mornin’, Ramsay!”

  Katie’s cheerful voice frustrated him even more. The lass should feel like shit warmed over. Why the devil was she sittin’ out here in the blindin’ sun like a risen angel, blessin’ all who passed by with a kind word and a smile instead of coverin’ her eyes from the pain that should be poundin’ inside her skull?

  Damn woman. Whenever he was around her, he felt a disturbing combination of confusion, anticipation, and something akin to ball-tinglin’ fear. Hell’s demons. I’ll ne’er survive this woman.

  Katie waved him over and patted the bench beside her. “Mr. Abernathy sent his son to get my car. It’s such a gorgeous day I told him I’d wait out here until he got back. Come keep me company.”

  Keep ye company. I wouldha kept ye company at breakfast and saved ye from my addled father if ye’d but waited. “Why did ye no’ wait for me? I told ye I’d bring ye here. There was no need for ye t’walk.” Damn that sounded sharp. “And d’ye no’ feel the least bit ill from all the drink ye had last night?” There he’d said it. The woman should no’ be this damned happy.

  “Are you still in a pissy mood or…?” Katie adjusted her ball cap and lowered her voice, glancing around as if to make sure no one could overhear. “Or is your attitude about last night? Um…how exactly did I end up wrapped up in your kilt on the couch?” She leaned forward, hands propped on her knees. “I know I drank too much last night—rarely happens but it did. Since I woke up fully clothed, I’m guessing your grouchiness is due to last night’s…” She paused, cleared her throat, and lowered her voice. “…um…last night’s fail? You know, too much alcohol can do that to a man sometimes.”

  What the hell was the woman saying? Was she implyin’ he’d been unable to…? Ramsay pulled in a deep breath and whistled it out through clenched teeth. He’d ne’er failed a woman in that way. Never.

  “For yer information, I dinna make it a habit of takin’ advantage of unconscious women. I also didna wish ye t’become chilled in yer sleep. Ye’d had a long day and a great deal of whisky. I worried after ye. So I covered ye with m’kilt afore I left yer rooms.” Damnation—what the hell is it about this woman?

  Katie slid her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose and peered at him over the rims. The woman didna believe him. He could see it in the sparklin’ blue of her eyes.

  “Really?” Her tone also called him a liar. “So, you’re saying I owe you an apology?”

  “Aye, most definitely,” he snapped then swallowed hard and did his damnedest to compose himself. Damn, she always undid him. “And I didna mean t’sound so…so short a moment ago. I was worried after ye since ye’d had so much t’drink. I feared ye’d feel unwell. And yer no’ from around here.” He squared his shoulders and did his best to appear concerned. “I didna wish ye t’get lost.” From the look on her face, the woman thought he sounded like a babblin’ idiot and currently, he whole-heartedly agreed with her.

  “Get lost?” Katie snorted out a laugh like he’d lost his mind. “There’s one stoplight here. Brady, North Carolina, is basically a wide spot in the middle of the road.”

  There’s no arguin’ that. “Aye, well, ye have me there.” I feckin’ give up. He sank down onto the bench beside her, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees. “It is a lovely day—as ye said.” He squinted up at the cloudless blue sky and prayed for something intelligent to say. An unpleasant idea nudged him. Best get it over with. “I hear ye met Athair.”

  “Athair?” Katie repeated the word carefully, scowling at first, then brightening with a quick nod. “Your father? Oh. Yes. I visited with him for quite a while before I headed here.”

  “I’m verra sorry.” Ramsay felt like an ass. Apologizing for his own father. The man who’d sacrificed so much for faith, clan, and country. “He canna help himself. Ye ken that, aye?”

  Katie squeezed his arm and leaned over to bump her shoulder against his. “It’s okay. My uncle was the same before he died. It’s not your father’s fault and in the end—he’s still your father and you love him. That’s all that matters.”

  Ramsay swallowed hard and covered Katie’s hand with his. “I thank ye for understanding.” Such a fine woman. And yet…she’ll soon leave. An overwhelming dose of hell no and sheer MacDara stubbornness awakened at his core and strengthened like a well-tended blaze. She needs t’stay. At least for a bit longer. Ramsay cleared his throat and straightened on the bench. “Were ye at least able to enjoy a bit of breakfast or did Athair keep ye too busy with his questions? He’s known t’do that at times.”

  Katie smiled and shook her head. “It wasn’t his fault that I didn’t eat. I’ve never been much of a breakfast person. But I did enjoy some coffee before I left. I figured I’d grab something at the café after I find out about my car—it’s kind of taking them a while to get back here with it.” She glanced at her phone. “We’ll be having supper in
stead of lunch if they take much longer. You’re welcome to come along but I don’t want to disrupt your schedule any more than I already have. I’m sure you’ve got park stuff to do. Your whole family sounds pretty busy from what I heard them talking about this morning.”

  She’d disrupted far more than his schedule but he didna think it prudent t’say so. Ramsay pushed away that thought as James Abernathy pulled up in front of the shop with Katie’s car, or what was left of it, secured with several wide black straps to a flatbed trailer hitched to the back of the wrecker. By the light of the sunny day and safely mounted on the waist-high trailer, the tiny car looked to be in a great deal worse condition than it had the night before.

  “Holy shit.” Katie slowly rose to her feet, pulling off her sunglasses in the process. “Holy shit!” she repeated quite a bit louder as she walked toward her car.

  The lass was right. The car looked t’be ready for the scrap heap.

  “Mornin’ Ramsay!” James exited from the wrecker, slammed the faded and scratched truck door closed, and strode back to the trailer. Propping an elbow on the edge of the trailer’s metal railing surrounding the car, he shook his head. “Don’t look too good, does it?”

  Ramsay glanced at Katie’s expression and his heart went out to the lass. “Nay, it does not but I’m sure between you and yer father, ye’ll have it repaired in no time, aye?” This was a perfect example why horses were much better when it came to reliable transportation.

  Katie hadn’t spoken again by the time the elder Abernathy joined them at the curb. She just stood there staring at her car.

  Gordon Abernathy grabbed the bill of his grease-stained ball cap, slowly pulled it off his head, and scratched at his receding hairline. “Damn.”

  Damn didna even begin t’cover the description of the damage as far as Ramsay was concerned.

  The windows that weren’t missing completely were shattered and dangling in place in jagged curtains of broken glass. Metal was bent, dented, and scratched. Chunks of mud, leaves, and grass were sticking out of crevices and tears that a car shouldn’t have. The dark interior looked as though it had been blast-coated with white powder and the deflated airbags fluttered limply from the dashboard and the steering wheel. All the tires, the three that were still attached to the car, were flat and the left rear wheel listed at a sickly angle. Plain and simple, if Katie’s car were a horse, the poor thing would have to be put it out of its misery.

  Katie stood with one hand flattened against her cheek, her mouth slightly ajar, and her unblinking gaze glued to the wreckage. She finally dropped her hand to her side and slowly shook her head. She turned to Ramsay, her look of bewilderment and loss making him want to pull her into his arms and make all this sorry business go away.

  “It didn’t look that bad last night.” She pointed a shaking finger at the wreck. “Did you think it looked that bad last night?”

  “Nay, lass.” Ramsay ached to offer some bit of comfort, but he wasna all too certain how t’go about it. Katie’s face was getting redder by the minute and Ramsay’s survival instincts warned there was an emotional explosion well on its way. “But I’m certain Gordon and his son can make it good as new.” He turned to them. “Aye, men? Ye can repair the lass’s auto and make it right, aye?”

  James hefted his tall lanky frame up onto the trailer beside the auto, shuffling around it as he alternately wiggled and poked at the bent pieces of metal. When he reached the rear portion of the car, he frowned at the roof, then leaned in closer, cocking his head in the process. “How’d you get footprint dents in the roof? Big footprints.”

  “Never mind,” Katie said. She looked to James’s father who was still studying the wreck. “Well?”

  Gordon rubbed his chin and slowly circled the trailer at ground level, occasionally squatting down to look up underneath the car. Eyes narrowed and head tilting first one way and then the other, he gradually meandered his way back to the point where he’d started. “I can fix that,” he finally said, his grizzled chin barely bobbing up and down in slow confirmation of his verdict.

  “Parts are gonna be the problem,” James interjected. “Can’t find parts for these foreign models at the junkyards around here.” He shrugged and shook his head at Katie. “We’ll have to order most of’m and your insurance company might have a say as to where we can get’m.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Katie blew out a frustrated huff and scrubbed her eyes with the heels of both hands. “I guess that’s what I get for looking at the stars through the moonroof instead of paying attention to where the hell I was going.”

  Ramsay locked eyes with both Gordon and James and gave a subtle warning shake of his head. He had no doubt that none of them would survive if anyone was ignorant enough to comment on what Katie had just said.

  Katie yanked the bill of her ball cap lower and glared at the car as though it were an adversary. “I’ve already called my insurance company and they said if I send pictures, I don’t have to wait for an appraiser. They said they’d get back to me by late this afternoon with a decision as to whether it’s totaled. If I get that info to you by tomorrow morning at the latest, how soon do you think you could have it fixed? A few days, maybe? A week, tops?”

  Both Gordon and James looked at Katie in shocked amazement then turned in unison to Ramsay and almost imperceptibly shook their heads.

  Ramsay swallowed hard and turned away. I dinna ken a damn thing about vehicles, but even I can see there’s no way in hell this thing will be drivable in a week.

  “Hey!” Katie snapped her fingers and stomped one foot. “I’m over here. A week at the longest—right?” She took a step forward as though about to attack. “I need your best estimate on when I can expect to be back on the road—now what is it?”

  “Lady,” Gordon Abernathy said in an excruciatingly slow southern drawl. “Only way you’re gettin’ back on the road in under a month, and that’s a generous estimate, mind ya, is if you get Mr. MacDara here to drive you to Wilmington so’s you can rent a car and be on your way. Either that or take the bus to wherever it is you’re goin’.”

  “A month?” Katie stared at Gordon as though he’d just called her something profane. Slowly, fire flashing in her eyes, she turned and faced Ramsay. “Did you hear that? A damn month?” she repeated.

  Time for a bit a peace-keepin’. “Aye, lass. Ye see the damage. Surely, ye ken how it would take Gordon and his son at least that long t’gather up all the pieces they need and put yer wee car back together.”

  “I was just passing through here on my way to a beach house reunion with friends. I can’t stay here a freaking month.”

  Katie’s voice hit a higher pitch with each word and it wouldna surprise Ramsay if the lass ended up screaming. While the thought of Mistress Katie Jenson spending an entire month in the town of Brady filled him with hope and a renewed sense of purpose, he didna miss the forlorn quiver in her voice hidden beneath the shrillness of her tone.

  Hell’s fire. Ramsay really didn’t want to say what he was about to say, but Gordon had already brought up the option so he didna have much of a choice—especially since the sweet lass was close to tears. “I can take ye to Wilmington today so ye can rent a car and only lose yesterday and today from yer journey t’visit with yer friends. Or I can give ye a lift to the bus stop.”

  He could feel himself tensing as though about t’be gut-punched. He didna want her to go. Tarry here awhile, lass. Say ye’ll stay for a wee bit, he silently implored.

  He almost cringed at the thoughts—his wishes. Damn ye, Dwyn. Ramsay stared at Katie and the certainty hit him hard. Stay, lass. Stay. He wanted t’get t’know this intriguing woman—even though ’twas against his better judgement.

  “I don’t want a rental or a fucking bus ticket!” Katie’s voice had reached the earsplitting pitch of a keening hawk about to attack its prey. “I’m headed back to Princeton after my vi
sit at Carolina Beach. How the hell would I get my car? I hadn’t planned on coming back here.” Her fair skin had flushed to an alarming shade of red and a sheen of sweat added to the fiery glow. “I’m returning to Princeton after the beach,” she repeated in a dangerously frustrated tone. “Logistically speaking, this is now an official pain in my ass, and a damn rental car or a bus ticket is not the option I want.”

  A glimmer of hope and an even stronger surge of anticipation flickered deep in Ramsay’s soul and grew stronger by the minute. Life now held a great deal more interest than it had in quite the while. Wasn’t it amazing how, in the promising light of possibilities, the meddlin’ of the goddesses and Dwyn didna seem quite so irritating—or important anymore? For surely, that’s what this was. A wondrous possibility. The opportunity of a beguiling woman trapped here for a month or so.

  Katie whipped her cellphone out of her pocket and thumped the screen with an impatient tap of a finger. Intent on the call she was making, she shifted a few feet away, staring down at the ground and hugging one arm tight around her waist as she walked.

  What the hell is she doin’? Ramsay strained to eavesdrop on her conversation.

  “Adam, it’s me. Why can you never answer your damn phone? When you get this message, call me. I wrecked my car and I need a ride—now!” She shaded her eyes as she looked up at the sky and scowled at the clouds. “And yes, I know, I’ll owe you. Just call me. Thanks.” She tapped the phone’s screen and shoved it back in her pocket as she rejoined Ramsay, Gordon, and James beside her car. “I won’t need a ride to Wilmington for a rental. Adam will come get me.”

  A newly discovered possessiveness surged through Ramsay’s veins. He struggled to keep his tone civil and calm. “Who is this Adam person?” His words sounded a bit harsh even to him. He stood taller. Good. ‘Twould no’ hurt Katie t’know that even in a short time, he’d come t’be concerned for her well-being.