by Zoe Tasia
I doubted that I’d be long, but I wrote a note for Jessie and Tate and called Kay. She didn’t answer so I left a message, asking her to check on the girls if I was late and invited her to lunch. In preparation for the hike, I filled a thermos and tossed it and a handful of granola bars in a small backpack. The island was unlikely to shelter any vicious animals in the woods, and it was daytime, but I brought my walking stick and packed the ivory-handled straight blade. If Mrs. Grant had a stockpile of arms, I hadn’t run across it yet and, while I did want some sort of weapon, I wasn’t keen to lose her cutlery. I also cut red ribbons to tie on tree limbs to make my way back. My sense of direction was good enough that I should be able to make it to Kay’s through the forest instead of via the road and wanted to test my assumption. Perhaps, since I’d encountered Greg near both cottages, if I traveled from my cottage through the woods to Kay’s, I might catch sight of his home. No doubt, I could also reach the farm, but I didn’t want to try to go that far, especially since I wasn’t sure about the conditions.
Once ready, I set off. After I passed the earliest growth nearest to the cottage, the going was fairly easy. The tall, old trees shaded the ground and there wasn’t much undergrowth to worry about. A few rocks jutted from the ground like broken teeth, but not too many and my hiking boots were more than adequate to keep me from slipping. By my reckoning, depending on how deep into the forest I went, I should intercept the pond and waterfall. I planned to stay well away from it. I traveled twenty minutes straight into the woods and then turned toward Kay’s. The tied ribbons would guide me home if necessary. I made sure I could still see the ribbon I just tied before tying a new one. After another forty minutes of walking, I still saw nothing of another cottage, nor did I see the pond and waterfall. Perhaps I’d walked far enough to circle around it? At any rate, I needed to return to the cottage. The girls would be home by noon, so I had just enough time to get back.
I turned and walked to the nearest red ribbon. When I reached it, I looked for the next which I should have easily seen, but couldn’t. Okay, this isn’t good. I decided to leave the ribbon and travel out to search for the next one, but always keep the last one I found in view so I could return to it. I walked toward what I was sure was the way to our cottage, every few minutes turning to check the ribbon and then, the last time I turned, it was gone. I froze. This can’t be happening. I carefully moved from side to side. No ribbon. “Well, crud. Where the heck did that ribbon go?” I wondered out loud. I heard a gruff guffaw. “Who’s there?” I asked.
I turned toward the sound. I stared but could see nothing. As I turned back, I saw a ribbon tied to a branch, but not in the direction I thought I should be going. I must be totally turned around. I sighed, glad to find the trail, but a bit discomforted that I got lost in the first place. Anytime we went anywhere, I was always in charge of the map. And mostly, I didn’t need one. When I reached the ribbon, I could see the next, so I untied that one and stuck it in my knapsack and took off for the next. By the twelfth ribbon, I began to worry. I most definitely did not tie so many ribbons. Someone was leading me somewhere.
“Whoever you are—this isn’t funny. Show yourself!” I called out.
There was no response but another laugh. I drew out the straight blade and opened it, feeling like a murderous barber.
The next ribbon led me to the pond and waterfall that I’d been studiously trying to avoid. “Well, darn.”
I stayed at the edge of the clearing, not wanting to get anywhere near the water. As I circled the pond, I spotted what was definitely a cleared path. Finally, I thought. This must lead somewhere. Probably to Greg’s home. I followed the path—and hoped he was home and could lead me back to my cottage.
After I traveled around a curve in the path, I saw a divergence. At the V was an enormous, black hound. Its lips curled, revealing sharp teeth as it growled. I am so over dogs. The girls can have cats.
I tried to remember what I was supposed to do if around a strange dog. “Good boy. Who’s a good boy?” I murmured, drawing nearer.
The dog paced in front of the two paths. As I tried to decide which one to take, there was that chuckle again. The dog barked and tore off toward the left fork and the sound. “Okay...follow the dog and the laughing guy or not.” I thought I saw a glint of light down the other path and heard a scuffling. The devil you know or the devil you don’t, Becca.
Pocketing the blade, I walked toward the scuffling fork, away from the dog and chuckling one, and hoped I made the right decision. It was getting increasingly late, and I was lost. Yes, on a path—but a path to where? And the path kept narrowing and winding. I had no idea where I was.
I cried out when I tripped over a root and stumbled into a raspberry bush, scratching my arms on the thorns. The path closed in until my shoulders brushed the bushes at each side, then I rounded a bend, and the trail opened up. I found myself in a clearing. In the center, I saw a slight rise, which couldn’t even be called a hill, with a circle of the largest mushrooms I had ever seen surrounding it. I walked around the ring.
On the first pass, I thought I could see something in the center—all blurry movement that I couldn’t track. As I continued to walk around the hill, the vision seemed to be less hazy. The second pass, I saw more clearly—creatures that I should be afraid of, I knew at some level, but I found fascinating and entrancing. I wanted to see more. The third pass, I heard whispers—enticing me, encouraging me to keep walking, promising me untold treasures. I tingled. I longed to continue, but trepidation filled me. I retrieved the blade and held it ready. Before I could finish this circle, someone jerked me from the path into the woods.
Chapter 13
WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, lass?”
My body was so lax that my head snapped back and forth as I was shaken to and fro, and I dropped the blade.
“Huh...nuh?” I asked fuzzily. I reached out and clung to the muscled arms which held me. A man’s worried face peered down at me.
“Greg?”
“Aye,” he said and stopped rattling my poor brain.
“I was looking for you.” I heard the murmurs from the hill and, like a siren call, they tugged, urging me to continue my walk around the clearing.
Greg held me firm, preventing me. “Let us get shed of this place and talk.” He gathered me close to his side and led me away from the clearing pausing to pick up the blade.
The farther away we went, the clearer my thoughts became. I stopped and trembled. “What was that?”
“An entrance to a place you shouldna go.”
As I rubbed my aching head, I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why can’t you answer me straight? Why does everything have to be in riddles?”
“I’m sorry.”
His eyes met mine, and I could see such weariness in his. Years and years of loneliness—what I had to look forward to. I bowed my head, saddened at the thought.
“You willna have my life.”
“What?”
“You need nae worry about being like me. You’re too sweet—too innocent—you wouldna even know how to offend them.” There was a pause, and he asked,” Why did you seek me?”
“This will sound silly, but you and Kay have done so much for me, I wanted to invite you over for dinner this Friday—the two of you.”
“Dinner...at the cottage?” He said it as if it were a foreign concept.
“Yes—if you can and want to. It won’t be anything fancy. The girls will be the first to tell you that I’m not much of a cook, but in my defense, they tend to have simple tastes and turn their noses up at anything new.” I realized I was prattling on and stopped.
“Can I...think about it?” he said carefully.
“Yes, I suppose so. Could you call me before Wednesday to let me know?”
“Call you? You mean on the telephone?” he carefully enunciated. I nodded. He chuckled. “I don’t have need of one of those contraptions.”
“Oh,” I said lamely.
He stood still, in thought then said, “I could send you a message.”
“Oh, that would be fine. I thought seven o’clock would be a good time for everyone. Would that work for you?”
“Aye, if I come, it shouldna be any trouble to be there at that time.” There was an awkward pause. “Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Well, I wanted to do something. You’ve gone way beyond neighborly kindness.”
“If you wouldna go traipsing off into the woods, you wouldna need the help.”
“I’ve been hiking my whole life. It isn’t like it’s late, and there aren’t any dangerous animals in the Scottish woods.”
“Perhaps not in other woods in Scotland, but this one is different.”
“How?”
“It just is. That is enough for you to know.”
Grrr, this man can be so frustrating. “It would help if I knew what I was dealing with—what these dangers are. Then I could prepare for them.”
“There isna all that much that you can do to guard against them. Some know ways—wise women and the such.”
Wise women? Changing the topic. “Is your home nearby? I need to rush back, but if it’s close, I’d love a glass of water.”
“I can cut the time. I know of many shortcuts through the woods.” He took my arm and led me off the path but paused. “You dropped this,” he said handing the blade to me. “I can hone the edge if you like, but I would know how you came by it?”
“I found it at the cottage in the bathroom, between the toilet and the sink.”
“Aye,” he said, rubbing his chin. “An excellent one, to be sure. A close shave could be had, no doubt.”
“Thankfully, we now have razors. I’d be afraid to use that.”
“’Tis easy once you get accustomed. I should be getting you back.” His hand wrapped around my bicep, and he tugged me forward. Within five minutes, I was completely turned around. In another five, the trees thinned to reveal a path and a red-ribboned oak on the opposite side. I went to the tree, carefully untied the ribbon, then folded it into my pocket.
“You shouldna have trouble getting home from here. Just follow the trail that way.” He indicated with his hand which way to go, and I turned to look. When I turned back, he was gone.
I arrived home, footsore and exasperated. After I filled the bath with water and poured in the scented salts, I opened a bottle of white wine. I didn’t drink before dinner, usually, but I felt I deserved it today. As I luxuriated in the tub, I thought about what to serve to Kay and, hopefully, Greg.
“Heck, I don’t even know what I’m serving for lunch today,” I said ruefully. I read for about twenty minutes until I heard the girls come in, chatting gaily. It sounded like the shopping went well. “I’m in the bath,” I called out.
Both girls, laden with bags, crowded in.
“They don’t have all that much, but Mr. McNeil said if we waited and had our party next weekend, he was going to the mainland and would pick up some stuff for us. He also gave us this. It’s for you.” Jessie pulled a box of Quality Street Candy from a bag and waved it at me.
“That was nice of him.” I wondered if he felt bad about our last interaction.
“We also stopped by the café, and Mrs. Wallace suggested serving some tarts. We said we’d have to ask you before ordering anything. We bought one of the inexpensive decorations to show you before buying a lot.”
“Good idea.”
Tate had been fairly quiet and let Jess do the talking.
“What about you, Tate? Did you see anything you liked?”
“I thought I might make something from my craft book.”
Tate was the artsy one. Jess was my outdoorsy sports girl.
“Sounds like a marvelous idea, but do you think you have time? We haven’t set a date yet, but I still think it will have to be a simple project.”
Tate had been known to begin a small painting that, in her enthusiasm for the pastime, turned into a large mural. While the girls filled me in, I rose from the bath, wrapped a towel around my body, and let the water out.
“You girls scoot so I can dry off and dress. I invited Kay over for lunch, and I have no idea what I’m going to serve. I really need to plan meals better.”
With an exasperated gasp, Jessie’s head dropped to one side as she rolled her eyes. “Mom, you always say that.”
Shushing them, I herded them out of the bathroom and shut the door. I had just finished dressing when I heard Kay’s tap, tappity, tap.
“Hellooo?” She popped her head in and then smiled when she saw all of us. “I took the liberty of picking up some things from the café. If you don’t already have something ready, I thought we could eat them for lunch.”
“Kay, you’re my hero!” I proclaimed. “I was out longer than I had intended and haven’t started anything yet.”
Kay opened the bag and pulled out irregular pastries and such that the owner didn’t want to go to waste but didn’t think were good enough to be sold. Kay arranged several meat and vegetable pies and at least a dozen cookies on the table. I made a small salad and cut up some fruit, so we ate quite well. When we finished and the girls left to talk more about the party, Kay helped me tidy up. “So, I heard your message. Hiking, huh? Did you go alone? It’s safer to always have another with you.”
“I hadn’t intended to go far. I was going to just enter the forest and travel toward your cottage to see if I could find where Greg lived.”
“No luck, I take it.”
“No, I didn’t find his cottage, but I did find him.” I relayed what had happened to me. “You don’t think he was the one who stole the ribbons and caused me to get lost, do you? And what about that dog?”
“He wouldn’t do that, I think. The dog—well, the dog must have been a neighbor’s, maybe the Samms’.”
“No, when we visited the farm, all the dogs came to greet us, except one, and Gavin introduced us to each.”
“Maybe the dog you saw on the trail was the missing one.”
“No, the missing one was a sheepdog. I don’t know what breed the dog on the trail was, but it was definitely not a sheepdog. It was huge. If Kiera was a dog, she would have been this size. And the dog was black, too.”
“So, after you saw the dog, you ran into Mr. Gillie?”
“Yes, and I asked him about coming for dinner.”
“I’m sorry he said no, I told you he’s a bit of a recluse.”
“He didn’t say no.”
“He didn’t?”
“Well, he didn’t say yes either.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would think on it and get back with me by Wednesday.”
“Seems you’ve had some influence on Mr. Gillie—a positive one if it gets him out of his woods and around others.”
“Well, for his welfare, I hope he does come over. I feel so sorry for the poor man. I know losing a spouse is devastating enough. I don’t know what I would do if I lost one—or, God forbid, both—of the girls.”
“So, he told you a bit of it?”
“Not much, he’s very private, but a little.”
“I imagine the fact that he’s a handsome man had nothing to do with you being pleased he didn’t say no.” Kay winked and smiled when I blushed.
“It hasn’t been like that at all,” I protested.
“Let’s see, he rescues your daughter from some stranger leading her into the woods. He rescues you from drowning. He sits with you and chats at the party.”
“That was barely a chat, and he only sat to keep the table for me so I could go get some food.”
“Right. And now he’s run into you in the forest and may join you for dinner. I never would have dreamed that Greg Gillie would go on a date.”
“It isn’t a date! You’ll be there!”
“About that, would it be okay if I brought a friend of mine?”
“Sure, that would be fine.”
“Amberlee is coming in for the weekend from the mainland. W
e met years ago, but lost track of each other. I’m a little nervous about seeing her, so it would be a big favor to me if I could bring her here. Things would be less likely to get awkward with more people around talking.”
“Well, I don’t know how much talking Greg will be doing, but I’ll do my best.”
“I knew Amberlee when my family lived here. We were pen pals for a long time after I moved, but I moved again and somehow, along the way, we lost touch with each other. When I was on the mainland today, I saw her and we exchanged information. I ran into the girls too. So, you’re having two parties? One for the girls and an adult one?”
“Yes, a party for the girls but no, on the adult one. Goodness, Kay! I’m having you, your friend, and Greg over for a simple dinner—not a fancy party.” Then I realized that Kay had managed to make it an evening for four instead of the odd number of three. “Are you up to something?” I asked.
“Me? Of course not! The girls said you’ve been spending time at the library.”
Way to change the topic, Kay. Yeah, you are definitely up to something. “I’ve been down to the newspaper archives reading some very interesting articles. I’d love to investigate further. Do you think it would be okay if I interviewed some of the older residents?”
“I’m sure they’d love to talk. Everyone here has heard their stories, and they would love a new audience. I think the older ladies get together at the church on a regular basis, but I’m not sure of the time or day. I’m not a church goer myself. I can ask the parson if you like, or if you are planning to attend services, you may want to meet him yourself.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been to church since we moved to Scotland. I feel bad about it. Things were just so busy when we first moved and I didn’t have time to check out the local parishes. Give me a few days to mull it over. I’ve found that it’s better to not even talk with the clergy if you are seriously not interested in their church. Once they have a grip, they don’t want to let go. I really don’t want some pastor knocking on my door every Saturday inviting me to church the next day and sending...I don’t know...whatever is the name of the local women’s organization over to invite me to fundraisers and such.”