by Cindy Miles
He gave her a wicked grin and a slight nod. “Have you missed me, lass?”
Allie grinned. “You mean since yesterday? Well, Captain Catesby, yes, actually, I have. Where’d you go off to the other day, anyway?”
“Please. Call me by my Christian name.”
With a nod, Allie made the correction. “Justin. Where’d you go?”
A slow smile spread across the handsome spirit’s face. “Much better. And to answer your question, off to the North of England to see a friend.”
Allie looked at him. “What sort of friend?”
Justin clasped his hands behind his back as they walked. “Och, a fierce lad with an ornery mortal for a curator.” He leaned his head toward her. “Methinks the sweet old woman is tryin’ to be a matchmaker.”
Allie blinked. “A match between who?”
Justin shrugged. “Well, ’tis just my observation, but the sweet old wily woman who watches over the castle ruins has a bonny niece from the Colonies on her way for a wee visit.” He winked. “I’ve no’ seen a more cunning woman than that old curator.”
Allie stopped. “A match between your friend, who I am suspecting is a spritied soul, and the niece?”
He grinned. “Stranger things have occurred, lass.”
She supposed he was right. The thought intrigued her, though.
They passed the last few establishments and then made their way to the wharf. While Allie picked her way over the rocks and pebbles, Justin seemed to glide.
“Glorious day, aye?” he asked as Allie settled onto her usual bench. He inhaled, but shook his head. “I do indeed miss the salty air. ’Twas one of my most favorite scents, the sea.”
She smiled. “Mine, too. Sit with me?” she asked, nodding to the space beside her.
“There’d be no greater pleasure,” he said. “Well, I could think o’ one, or mayhap two.”
“No doubt.” Allie rolled her eyes, sat down, and glanced out over the loch. The sun peeked through a cluster of clouds, making the water sparkle. The air was still crisp and cold and the breeze wasn’t quite so fierce. “It is a beautiful day.”
Justin Catesby did sit then, leaving a decent amount of space between them. Allie studied him closely—enough to make him cock his head and grin.
“Why do you inspect me so, lass?” he asked.
Allie shrugged and opened the heavy wax paper sealing her pie. “You’re not very old, are you?”
Justin barked out a laugh. “A good bit older than you, I’d warrant.”
Taking a bite, Allie chewed, swallowed, and wiped her mouth. “No, I don’t mean how old you are now. I mean how old you were when you passed.” She looked at him. “You seem so much more . . . experienced than what you should be.”
Justin leaned forward, elbows resting on knees spread wide in the fashion that guys do. “I was thirty-one to answer your question.” He gave her a grin that was surely meant to flirt. “Experience? Aye, I’ve plenty o’ that, love.”
Allie glanced at him while she ate. “You big flirt. I knew you were naughty from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I bet the girls in your day didn’t have a chance.”
“Not even a smidge of one, I’m afraid.” He turned to her, wavy brown hair brushing the tops of his shoulders. The leather tricorn hat that made him appear all the more roguish. Although a bit transparent, his brown eyes gleamed of mischief, danger, and something else Allie couldn’t place. His large hands were clasped, thick veins crossing the tops, and he wore a ring on his left forefinger.
Allie bent close to study it. It had a half-moon and what appeared to be a . . . tooth? A large, pointed fang of a tooth.
“Interesting ring, Catesby,” she said, rising and looking him in the eye. “What’s it mean?”
Justin smiled, flexed his hand, and glanced at it. “Och, nothin’, lass. Just some trinket I won in a game of bones.”
Sipping her coffee, she lifted a brow. “Looks ferocious if you ask me.”
He laughed, and shook his head. “I’ve heard you’ve made a bit of progress with young Gabe.”
Allie’s thoughts turned to the kiss they’d shared, and she nearly choked on her coffee. She wondered if the friar had ratted them out. She wiped her mouth and crumpled the wax wrapper. “Er, not really—”
Justin’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “You’ve no’ a poker face, lass, ’tis a certainty.” He lifted a brow. “If I didna know any better I’d say you were guilty of something.”
Allie frowned. “I’m not guilty of anything.”
With an intense stare that all but made Allie squirm, Justin searched her face, from her chin, to her lips, nose, and then eyes. “Hmm. I’m no’ sure about that, lassie, but ’twill be immensely enjoyable to wrench the information from you.”
“My granny would call you a perv-o.”
After a moment more of studying her, Justin threw back his head and laughed. “Aye, no doubt she would.” He rose, glancing out to sea. “Are you plannin’ on goin’ to the ceilidh Saturday?”
Allie blinked. “Yes. Why?”
A slow smile with much anticipation spread across his handsome face.
And with that he faded into the sunlight.
Over the next two days, Allie and Laina saw Jake off to school, opened Odin’s for lunch and dinner, and everything went off without a hitch or glitch. As she and Gabe’s mom prepared the food, Lords Ramsey and Killigrew sat close by on whatever empty countertop they could find and flirted with gusto. Laina giggled and would scold them, but Allie could tell she thoroughly enjoyed it. Mademoiselle would stay close by, taking great interest in how to prepare the meals, and the friar would sit quietly in the corner with Dauber, discussing only God knows what.
And then there was suave Captain Justin Catesby, who always seemed to be going the very same direction Allie was going. He was full of charm and Allie fully believed the women in his day had no chance whatsoever of repelling him.
Allie sat back and closely regarded the souls of Sealladh na Mara. She quickly decided the MacGowan case was by far the strangest case she’d accepted. Employed to quiet the determined spirits so Gabe MacGowan could properly sell his establishment, she hadn’t needed very long at all to see that the problem didn’t lie with the spirits, but with Gabe MacGowan himself.
She’d told him as much, too.
She’d fought hard not to question little Jake. But she withheld, hoping Gabe would tell her just what it was making him run from his family and friends.
And Sealladh na Mara.
Each night, after the last patron had left Odin’s, Allie would sit in the pub with Justin, Drew, the lords, Dauber, and Elise. Story after story was told, and before long, Allie felt as though she’d known them all her life. She also realized Odin’s Thumb’s spirits were the most contented souls she’d ever encountered. They weren’t haunting the pub and inn. They weren’t haunting Sealladh na Mara. They looked at the quiet little seaside village as their home.
Their home in the afterlife, so to speak.
They loved it, and they loved Gabe and Jake MacGowan.
And didn’t want them to leave.
So, it seemed, while Allie was hired to do one thing, the task at hand had turned into something else altogether.
She had to get to the bottom of Gabe’s distress and change his mind.
Jake was adorable, full of energy and questions and really, a continuous sponge. He’d ask all sorts of things about America, life in general, and was especially interested in science—Allie’s specialty was astronomy, and Jake was more than enthusiastsic about sitting outside to stare at the sky once it grew dark. After school, though, she’d walk to the wharf with him, the Odin’s crew plus Dauber in tow, and in the wade pool they’d discover new creatures with each fresh tide. The nobles, being younger, she supposed, had loads of personal experience from their own childhood to offer on how to capture a small fish, or any other urchins lying just below the surface of the water.
At night, before he went
to bed, Jake would ask Allie to tell him a story. That, of course, was a cover for his grandmother’s benefit. What Jake really wanted to know and asked all sorts of questions about was death.
Particularly about her own personal experience with her father.
Allie didn’t want to pry and ask things of Jake she knew might upset Gabe. And God knew Gabe himself was experiencing something awful, and apparently almost every night of his life. The night they kissed? Just before that he’d been in a terrible state, eyes wide, nostrils flared—it had been all Allie could do to get him to come back to the present.
Jake had told her of the dreams Gabe had, and she’d assumed that was what had happened that night. She wondered what they were. Obviously, they were pretty horrific to shake Gabe up so badly. Jake had mentioned they were of his dead mother. She wondered if he was right.
Either way, it troubled the little guy. Troubled the hell out of the big guy, too, but he’d left soon after. Allie had a feeling Gabe would clam up tight if she ever brought it up.
She’d have to let him come to her.
Pulling herself from her thoughts, Allie inspected herself in the mirror. She considered her appearance. The ceilidh was a casual dance, so she’d chosen a pair of dark jeans, a gauzy white long-sleeved button-up blouse, a black leather jacket, and black boots. Adding just a touch of makeup, because makeup usually made her break out, some lip gloss, and a small squirt of vanilla, she admitted to herself that she was hoping beyond hopes Gabe MacGowan would make it back in time.
And that he wouldn’t ignore her.
She dug in her bag, found a silver clip, and pulled part of her hair back to the nape of her neck and secured it. Cut in layers and parted in the middle, her boingy curls sprang whichever way they wanted. Luckily the long bangs in the front stayed out of her eyes.
“You look adorable as always, love,” said Dauber, perched behind her on the chest. “Are you ready?”
Allie turned and smiled. “Thanks, and yes. Let’s go.”
Outside, the sun hung low in the sky, the tide was high, and the wind minimal. The crisp air brushed Allie’s cheeks, and she inhaled the ever-present brine of the sea. She found she rather liked that scent. It reminded her of Maine, and her mom’s B and B.
Music wafted uphill from the wharf, and from the outside of Odin’s Thumb Allie could see a large bonfire. As she and Dauber strolled down the sidewalk, laughter reached her ears.
“Sounds like a lovely time down there, don’t you think?” Dauber said. “I wonder if Gabe MacGowan will make it back before it’s too late.”
Allie glanced at him, the fading light sifting through his already transparent self. “Too late for what?”
His grin dug deep into his cheeks. “Why, before the other lads in the village snatch you up.”
Allie shook her head and grinned. “You’re crazy, Alexander Dauber.” But she loved the old soul as if he were her own father. “Come on.”
Down at the wharf, the entire village and surrounding crofts had turned out for the get-together. Long tables with lanterns and chairs were set up on the perimeter, with a wide square area on the higher bank lit by a string of twinkling lights stretched between four poles. A few people danced to a small band of musicians. Allie remembered Leona saying her husband played the fiddle. She’d make it a point to meet him later.
As they drew closer, Allie caught sight of Wee Mary, sitting at a table with both Lords Ramsey and Killigrew. Walking over, she placed her hand on Mary’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
Wee Mary glanced up and gave her a wide smile. “Och, good as new, love. You and Dauber have a seat and join me and this fresh lot of boys.”
Once again, Allie considered the fact that Sealladh na Mara was haunted, and the people of the town completely accepted it. It fascinated and bewildered her at the same time. She wondered if the small coastal village had a reputation throughout Scotland.
Dauber eased into a chair. Allie sat next to Mary, grinned at Christopher and Baden, and lifted a brow. “Have you two no shame?”
Wee Mary giggled. “They’ve none, I’ll say. Flirting with an invalid. Tsk.”
Baden Killigrew barked out a laugh. “Invalid, me arse.” He smiled at Allie and leaned forward, and she thought just how handsome the ghostly lord was. “I’ve been trying to coax her into a wee slow dance, but she continues to say my nay.”
Wee Mary blushed.
Allie glanced around. “Where’s Jake?”
Christopher Ramsey inclined his head. “Just there, at the water’s edge with the friar and Justin.”
Allie watched the boy as he interacted with Drew Digby and Justin Catesby. Other than Drew being slightly transparent, and wearing a fourteenth-century woolen cowl, and Justin in his usual sea captain’s gear, they seemed perfectly normal together with the boy. Jake would stop, look up at Drew and Justin, and pay close attention to whatever it was they were telling him, and then Jake would drop to his knees, fish around in the water, and lift something up and show it with excitement.
“You know, that used to be young Gabe,” Wee Mary said. “All excited and busy, not noticin’ that his best mates were spirited souls who’d lost their earthly flesh.”
Allie glanced at Gabe’s aunt.
Mary gave a winsome smile and sighed. “That boy—Gabe, I mean—would trail after Justin”—she inclined her head to Baden and Christopher—“and these two, as well, askin’ question after question, beggin’ for stories of the high seas. Which, of course, the scalawag did just that and with unabashed pride and joy.” She gave another winsome smile. “Justin would tell young Gabe stories at bedtime, would take him all about Sealladh na Mara, taught him many a nautical task, just by talkin’ him through it.” She shook her head and glanced out over the loch. “Things certainly have changed.”
“Aye, no doubt Gabe would resort to fisticuffs with the lot of us, if we had substance,” said Baden. “Always seems to be at odds, he does.”
Mary met Allie’s gaze dead-on. “For some reason, lass, I have a feeling deep in me bones you’ll be the one to change him back.”
Baden and Christopher both nodded in agreement.
Allie studied Wee Mary. The smallest of lines fanned out from the corners of her eyes. “What makes you think I can change anything?”
Mary’s smile touched her eyes. “Hope.”
Allie looked down at her feet, laced her fingers together, and glanced back up. Before she could utter a word, Wee Mary cocked her head and spoke.
“He’s no’ told you about Jake’s mum, aye?”
Allie shook her head. “Not yet.”
A slight curve lifted one corner of Wee Mary’s mouth. “When he does, and I do belive he will, you’ll discover where Gabe’s troubles lie.” She reached over and patted her hand. “Help my nephew, if you can. He’s a good lad and deserves a bit o’ peace in his life.”
Allie turned her gaze to Sealladh na Mara’s sea loch and sighed. She sincerely hoped she could help Gabe MacGowan.
If only he’d let her . . .
Chapter 13
As the hour grew late, Allie couldn’t help but glance out, away from the crowd, in hopes of seeing Gabe return. So far, he hadn’t. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed.
She looked over at the dancers. That Baden Killigrew had finally convinced Wee Mary to honor him with a wee slow one, and in his defense he seemed to be making good and sure it was indeed slow and that Mary didn’t overexert herself. They were doing some crazy-looking dance from Baden’s time—a dance that could be pretty darn seducing if done properly. Of course, there could be no bodily contact, but in Lords Ramsey’s and Killigrew’s days, there couldn’t be. So they moved in sync, circling each other, dipping one way and then the other, maintaining eye contact and nothing more.
She had a suspicion Baden knew just what he was doing.
Introductions had flowed all night. Leona and her husband, their seventeen-year-old twins, Alex and Aida, old Angus, once a longsh
oreman who, at eighty-three, spent his days, no matter how cold, in a straight-backed wooden chair on the small pier, whittling sail-boats out of chunks of oak. The epitome of Scotland, Allie thought, with a weathered face, wool sweater, and soft hat, complete with a pipe. He even had a faithful old dog that sat at his feet. Bones. The dog’s name was Bones.
As many people as Allie met at the ceilidh, not one single person mentioned Gabe’s wife. Not one. Allie knew she’d died, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She’d asked Wee Mary, but the sweet older woman had simply shaken her head, saying ’twas Gabe’s tale to tell, and that he wouldna like his business being told. Wee Mary’s eyes had misted over, and Allie hadn’t pushed the subject any more. Jake, the cute little guy, had never elaborated, and God knows Allie wouldn’t ask. Maybe Gabe would eventually open up.
She wondered if he ever would.
As the song wound down, Baden and Wee Mary passed where Allie stood watching, grinned, and moved toward the tables. Another song kicked up, this one a bit livelier, and several couples hurried to find a spot.
“I see you’ve been waiting for me, lass,” said a deep voice.
Allie turned to find Captain Catesby, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Dance with me?” he asked, inclining his head in that direction. “If you think you can keep up?”
Allie grinned and nodded. “All right, big guy. Let’s go.”
As they neared the dance floor, Justin bowed, indicating Allie step out. She did, and he joined her, standing close and staring down at her. She followed his moves, something from his time, she guessed, and although she didn’t know the dance it was easy enough to keep up with Justin. Or so she thought.
The rogue smiled when she took a misstep, and leaned his head toward hers. “ ’Tis my sincerest regret, lady, that I am in such a flimsy and paltry state as to be completely unable to put my hands on you.” His grin widened. “To lead you properly, of course.”
“Hmm,” Allie said. “No doubt.”
He moved around her in a slow circle, keeping his gaze directly on hers. She smiled. “Are you flirting with me, Justin Catesby?”