by L. L. Muir
Iain glanced toward Sallie to find her frowning at him. Obviously, he needed to handle this delicately, though he could hardly back out now that he’d started.
In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying went.
“There’s at least one ghost here in the mine. But I can personally guarantee you that he’s no’ bad. As a matter of fact, his whole purpose in being here is to see to yer safety. He’d give his own life to see you make yer journey safely back to the surface.”
“But, wait,” Kelsey said, dropping her brother’s hand to come closer to Iain, propping her little hands on her hips and tilting her head to one side, in exactly the way Iain had seen many a grown woman do. “If he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have a life to give, does he?”
Bright child.
“Aye, wee lassie, you’ve the right of that. But that’s what makes him work so hard to keep you from harm. You see, without a life to give, it’s his very soul at risk if anything happens to you while yer here under his protection.”
Kelsey thought for a moment and then a big smile spread over her face. “In that case, I’m glad that ghost is here. I’m even okay with being down here in the dark.”
“Me, too,” Sallie said, the frown that had wrinkled her brow slipping back into her customary smile.
Following along behind the group, Iain sighed. It had never been in his nature to keep secrets any more than it had been in his nature to be anything less than honest. That made it all the more important to face the fact that if he was going to be here much longer, he might need to work on learning to keep his mouth shut before he said too much. Either that or confess everything to Sallie.
Both avenues felt equally impossible.
Sallie stirred in him feelings, emotions he’d never known before. When she glanced back at him over the heads of the children who followed her and gifted him that smile she wore now, his whole heart felt as if it were twice as large as it was supposed to be. She was unlike any woman he’d ever met. A woman like this, a man could get lost in. A woman like this, a man could spend a lifetime loving.
If only he’d met her in another time, under other circumstances.
But he hadn’t. He’d met her now, for only a single purpose and for only a very short time.
Somewhere down the line, he’d have to tell her the truth about who he really was and what he was doing here. He just didn’t know how to do that yet. At least, not without risking the loss of that smile she cast his way.
Chapter 6
Iain MacIntosh was one seriously impressive man.
Sallie tried to keep a smile off her face as she watched him collecting hardhats from all the guests who had been on their tour. Clearly, every one of them was just as enamored with him as she was.
There had been a moment there, back in the mine, when she’d had a concern that his unplanned response about ghosts was going to go very wrong. It wouldn’t have taken much to frighten those children, upset their parents, and net themselves a slew of bad reviews that could have put a serious dent in their summer business.
But that hadn’t been at all what had happened. Instead, Iain had charmed the lot of them, weaving a story as if he had personal knowledge of a ghost wandering the tunnels. It was such a good addition, in fact, she’d have to give some consideration to adding it to all the tours as a regular bit. If that was okay with Iain.
His deep chuckle reached her ears and she turned to find him lifting the little girl in their group to allow her to drop her hardhat into the bin with all the others. He was a gem, all right.
Easy on the eyes, easy on the ears, and easy on the mind. No wonder Nancy Toliver had hired him on the spot.
“Where’s Markie, Don? I thought you had him with you.”
The timbre of panic in the woman’s voice jerked Sallie from her pleasant reverie.
Markie? The youngest member of their tour group had gone missing.
“Markie Glen!” the woman yelled. “You get away from there this instant!”
Sallie swiveled to look in the direction the woman faced. Her stomach knotted the instant she spotted him, scrambling over the logs that acted as an inadequate barrier to the river’s edge.
She didn’t hesitate.
Breaking into a full-on run, she raced toward the child, vaulting over the barrier to grab him in her arms only an instant before the water-soaked ground began to crumble beneath her feet.
No time to escape. No time to think. Only a split second to shove Markie back in the direction of the barrier before Sallie found herself falling into the cold clutches of the raging river below.
*
Iain saw Sallie run toward the river and matched his steps to hers. He knew deep in his gut she was in trouble even before the ground gave way beneath her. He felt it. This must be the moment he’d been sent here to prevent. The moment he’d waited for. The moment he’d come to dread.
Without thought for his own safety, Iain plunged into the water after her, finding that luck had played in his favor for a change.
The shoulder of her shirt had caught on the twisted metal remains of the fencing she’d pointed out to him before. Caught, but not securely. Even as he reached for her, the cloth split into threads, giving way under the insistent pressure of the water battering against them.
Relief filled her eyes as his hand tightened around her wrist and he pulled her toward him. If only he could use both his hands! If only he could clutch her to him to prove to himself she was unharmed. But letting go of his tenuous hold on the pole that had stopped him from being carried off by the current was impossible.
She fisted her free hand in his shirt as she neared him and he drew her close. So intense was the connection between them, he could swear he felt her heart pounding against his chest as he held her. It would be so easy to get lost in those eyes. So easy to crush her lips against his to prove to himself that she was really in his arms, safe.
Only problem was, she was still far from safe.
The waters raged around them, tearing at their bodies, battering them with all manner of objects picked up and carried along by the floods. Sallie would be covered in cuts and bruises, he had little doubt. Already, blood streaked her shoulder where the metal had gouged into her skin as she’d been caught on the fencing. He hadn’t the time to assess the damage right now. Any wounds she’d suffered were a small price to pay for the bent poles having held her long enough to allow him to reach her.
As much as he hated the thought of letting her go, he had to get her out of this river. He shoved her in the direction of the water’s edge where she grappled for a hold, not yet close enough to reach. Only a few inches more and she’d be able to grab on to something to buy her time until someone from the ground above could help her.
“Iain!” she screamed, her eyes filled with panic as she let go of the bank to turn, to tug at his hand that clamped tightly around her wrist.
Too late he saw the fast approaching branch, driven by the water as if it were a spear thrown by an enemy. He managed to angle his body to shield her, but that was the best he could do. Pain seared through his chest and into his back. Pain such as he’d felt only once before, on a long-ago battlefield when the shot that had killed him tore into his head.
With a tremendous effort, he gave Sallie one last shove, forcing her to the water’s edge where she clung to the remains of the twisted fencing at the foot of the bank, gulping sobs as she frantically grappled for his hand.
It took everything he had to move through the pain. Everything he had in him to pull away from her in order to maintain his hold on the twisted pole. Everything he had to keep from being swept under the water.
“Iain!” Sallie called out, her voice wavering over the sounds battering his ears.
With Sallie out of immediate danger, he could afford to assess his own situation. The branch, as large in diameter as a grown man’s fist, protruded from his chest. The pain lancing through his body could easily have convinced him that he was truly among the livin
g again. The lack of blood when he managed to pull it out told him otherwise. Just because he could feel pain and experience the emotions of a living man didn’t mean he was alive.
He was indeed the ghost he’d spoken of in the mine.
Sallie screamed again as he pulled the branch from his chest and then she went eerily silent as he tossed it away into the churning water.
“Hold on, you guys,” Justin yelled from the high bank. “We’ve got a rope now. Just hold on!”
A moment later, the end of the rope dropped down to Sallie’s hands and she was being lifted up to safety.
Her eyes, though, were fixed on him.
Iain would never be able to erase the horror reflected there as she stared at the spot just below the water’s level where the hole gaped in his chest. She’d seen, he had no doubt. Seen the hole. Seen the lack of blood.
There was no longer any question about what came next in his relationship with Sallie. He’d have no choice but to tell her the truth about who and what he was.
Assuming, that is, the witch allowed him to stay long enough to tell her. After all, he’d done what he’d been sent here to do. He’d saved her life. His task here was over. He’d earned his way to the promised land and his turn to have his revenge on Prince Charlie. It was all he’d wanted for over two hundred seventy years and now that moment was within his grasp. He should be the happiest man on the face of the planet.
So why did he feel so empty?
Chapter 7
“You should have given this work to one of the others.” Iain waited until Sallie lowered the grain bucket and turned to look at him. “Especially after all you’ve gone through today. Straining could easily break open the wound upon yer shoulder.”
It was a sensitive subject, but one he had to address. The sooner the better. Now that she was safe, he’d likely not have much more time with her. If he was going to tell her the truth, he would have to do it now or never.
Her eyes pierced him, like a woman trying to crawl inside his head to find the answers she needed. Answers he had sworn to himself to give to her tonight.
“What happened out there today?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
If he were smart, he’d stay right where he was. He’d tell her what he needed to and then he’d walk away. If he were smart.
But smart wasn’t the feeling in either his brain or his heart at the moment. It was need that consumed him now. A need to console the vulnerable beauty standing only feet away from him. A need to feel her in his arms.
As foolish as it was, giving in to that desire was more powerful than any rational thought he’d ever experienced.
In three steps he was standing next to her. His body controlled him now, not his head. Smart had no place in his world at this moment. He wrapped her in his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head.
“Doona fash yerself over what happened today, lassie.”
Given the choice, he would have spent the rest of his life as he was at this moment. But the choice was not his.
Sallie pushed away from him, her eyes searching his as she stepped back, leaving a hole as big and as empty as the one that had been in his chest while he was in the water.
“I know what I saw in that river, Iain. You can give whatever excuse you want to the EMTs or the rest of the staff. You can accuse me of being overcome and distraught with terror like everyone else did. But I know what I saw. We both know.”
She had been frantic in the aftermath of the accident this afternoon. In spite of her own injuries, she’d run to him when they’d at last pulled him from the water, her hands searching his chest, her fingers ripping at the tear in his shirt, hunting for any sign of the wound she’d seen.
Of course, no sign of the injury had remained. A ghost could hardly be wounded any more than a dead man could be killed.
“All I want is the truth,” she said, her voice tinged with the hurt he’d seen in her eyes as Justin had pulled her off him and carried her away.
“Then it’s the truth you shall have,” Iain answered softly, reaching down to lift the heavy bucket she’d carried. “Upon my oath. But I warn you, it’s no’ a pretty story. Nor is it likely to be one you’ll easily accept. If I’m to tell it, I’ll need to begin at the beginning.”
“The truth,” she repeated stubbornly. “All of it. From the beginning.”
“So be it,” he answered. “Before I do that, though, I need to tell you that I’ll be leaving soon. I canna say with any certainty when, only that it will be soon.”
He’d done what he’d been sent to do. The witch would no doubt be coming for him at any moment. His hope now was that he’d be able to give Sallie the explanation she deserved before he had to leave her.
“Why are you leaving?” She waited, hands on her hips, head defiantly tipped to one side, that tail of lovely brown hair swinging seductively over her shoulder. “Is it because of what happened in the river? I saw that branch pierce your body. I saw the hole it left when you pulled it out. I could have fit my whole hand inside that hole and yet, when you came out of the water, your skin was unmarked, as if nothing had ever happened. Why weren’t you bleeding?”
The truth. He’d sworn to give it to her.
“Because dead men don’t bleed.”
Sallie took another step back from him, her eyes as wide as if she’d been slapped.
“What?” She blinked rapidly, her brows wrinkling toward one another. “What kind of ridiculous answer is that supposed to be?”
“The truth,” he said with a shrug. “It’s simple enough. I’m a ghost, Sallie. I know what I’m telling you is hard to believe, but it’s the truth. I died from a gunshot to the head on the fields of Culloden Moor in 1746.”
“Right.” She breathed in deeply, slowly, the eyes that had been wide, narrowing as her expression hardened. “You died in 1746. Oh, you’re priceless, Iain. Absolutely priceless. I guess the word truth in your vocabulary means the exact opposite of what it does in mine. Give me that bucket.”
She tried to take it from him, but he held it out of her reach.
“The truth is the truth,” he said. “In any vocabulary.”
Her hands were back on her hips, her expression hard, perhaps even hurt. “Okay, then. So, let’s say I accept your ridiculous story that you’re a ghost.” The roll of her eyes conveyed her lack of belief in spite of her words to the contrary. “What are you doing here? How did you get here from…from…Heaven or hell or, wherever it is you’ve been since…what was it? Three hundred years ago when you were supposedly killed?”
“Two hundred seventy years,” he corrected quietly. “More or less. The entirety of those years spent in limbo, trapped on the same dreary battlefield where I and my compatriots were betrayed. Trapped on the same battlefield where my life was taken from me.”
“And you’ve come here because…”
Time to tell her the whole of it.
“I dinna lie when I spoke to this before. I am on a quest of sorts. I’m here because, after spending centuries consumed with hatred for the man who was responsible for my death, I’ve been given a chance to take my revenge. An opportunity to settle the debt that chained me to this world. All I had to agree to do was to perform one wee task to convince the witch who held my fate in her hands that I was worthy of that opportunity.”
“Okay, wait a minute. A witch? So now it’s a ghost and a witch that makes your story possible.” Sallie shook her head, her anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t leave me hanging at this point, Iain. What is this amazing task that you’ve come to perform?”
All the rest had been difficult. This would be the worst. He could feel her emotions billowing off her as it was. But, he’d promised her the truth. All the truth.
“My task was to save the life of an innocent. You. And now that I’ve done that, I expect Soni will be sending me on to take my revenge against Prince Charlie.”
Sallie’s mouth opened and closed once, twice, a third time before s
he managed to speak.
“That would be Bonnie Prince Charlie, I assume?” she said at last.
“No’ so bonnie from where I stood,” Iain grumbled. “But, aye, that is the man of whom I speak. The man who betrayed us. Who ran away, tail between his legs, to live out the life his cowardice and incompetence denied us.”
She stared at him in silence, arms crossed in front of her. After what felt like an eternity, she reached out one hand.
“Give me the bucket, Iain.” When he complied, she shook her head, all anger faded from her expression, leaving nothing but a sorrow such as he’d rarely seen. “Go away. I don’t care where. I just don’t want you here with me. Not if you can’t tell me the truth. I think I deserve better than your made up little fairy tale.”
“It is the truth.”
She turned her back on him, walking away with a finality that cut him to the quick.
He should have expected as much. There had been a time, his time, when he wouldn’t have believed such a story any more than she believed him now.
With a sigh drawn from the depths of his soul, he headed away from her. Away from the hurt and sorrow he hadn’t the power to fix. Away from the empty eyes that had once held a sparkle of life that had seemed to come directly from Sallie’s heart.
For just an instant, he caught himself wishing he could restore that spark. He wished he could do something to wipe away the hurt she wore like a funeral cloak. He’d give anything to see her happy again. Anything.
“Rubbish,” he muttered under his breath, picking up the speed of his steps.
What did it matter to him, her obvious feeling of betrayal. He’d done nothing but save her life. She meant nothing to him.
“End this!” he demanded of the empty night sky. “Show yerself, Soncerae, and let me be done with this torture.”
He waited, but the witch didn’t show herself. Neither did she remove him from his current surroundings. Apparently, saving Sallie’s life wasn’t enough to win her favor. Apparently, he needed to suffer more. To continue to prove himself worthy.