by Cindy Miles
And she grabbed it back, looked at him, her voice even, steady, and still soft. “You beat it.”
“I killed Jake’s mother,” he said, the sound a low, menacing growl. “I did it. Dunna you see why I have to move Jake from here? Too many bad memories, Allie Morgan. And too many mistakes.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I canna afford to make any more. Jake deserves it.”
She bravely took a step closer and looked up into his eyes. She still didna know everything, and by God, he’d no’ tell her. She knew everything she needed to know. ’Twas enough.
The rest would make her think him a lunatic.
She stared, her eyes hard now, her mouth drawn into an angry frown. “Do you think you’re scaring me with all of this, Gabe MacGowan? Honestly? I appreciate the soul-bearing, but I don’t scare that easy.” She pushed his shoulder. “Do you hear me? You don’t scare me! And I don’t care what you think you did, you didn’t kill your wife and I will never agree with you! Do you understand? And do you honestly think running away from your past is the answer? Are you telling me that selling Odin’s and leaving your family—the souls of Sealladh na Mara who love you and Jake—is the answer?” She shook her head. “This was your home and your ancestors’ home long before you brought Kait here, Gabe. And you hired me to oust those loving souls, just so you can sell an establishment that’s been in your family for years?” Her anger exploded. “I wouldn’t have accepted this job, had I known what was really involved, Mr. MacGowan. Knowing what I know now? I think you’re making a huge mistake moving Jake from Sealladh na Mara. And just so you know—not everything revolves around your past!” she screamed. “Ugh!”
She turned on her heel then and simply started to walk. Rather, she stomped.
Gabe stared after her. Frozen and dumbfounded by her response, he simply stared, scowling. Mad. Terrified.
Not for the first time in his life, he didna know what to do next.
Allie walked several feet, stopped, and stared up at the star-studded sky. So many emotions zipped through her that her brain hurt. She felt cold and hot at the same time.
She wanted to throw something.
Or hit something.
She turned on her heel and marched back to Gabe.
She stopped when she reached him, boots toe-to-toe. She looked up and frowned. “Don’t pull me half-ass into this, Gabe MacGowan. You’re still asking for my help? Although my role has changed considerably since I arrived, you still want me to help? We’ll do it my way or I’m gone. Got it? Let me warn you, though, it doesn’t involve any ousting of any souls. If you don’t want my help, fine. I’ll leave. And don’t worry. I won’t charge you my usual fee. You’ll only be out airfare and a few fish!”
She turned to stomp back off, but he caught her hand and held on. She could have jerked loose, but she didn’t. She stood, facing away from him, and waited, heart pounding, breath coming hard.
God, she was mad.
And she wasn’t exactly sure at what.
Gabe pulled, and she turned around. He continued to hold her hand.
She continued to let him.
Lifting her gaze, she met his. Gabe’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, as though he had a pack of dynamite inside him somewhere that was close to exploding. She wasn’t afraid, though. Not even a little.
He pulled her close, and lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Those are my ghosts, Allie Morgan. That’s who I am. A recovering alcoholic with a haunting past.”
Lifting her hand, Allie covered his and moved it to her cheek. “That’s who you were, Gabe MacGowan. Were. The man I see now is far different from the boy back then. The haunting past? I can help with that. If you’ll let me.”
He searched her face, locked his gaze onto hers, and slowly shook his head. He muttered something in Gaelic, looked away, then looked back at her. Lifting his hand, he scraped her lips with his thumb, grasped her chin, and tilted it to the left, studied it, then tilted it a bit more and then lowered his head and brushed his mouth against hers.
Sensations soared within her, and Allie sighed against him, opening for him, longing to taste him. That same low growl, a desperate, urgent noise, sounded from deep within Gabe’s chest as he slid a hand to the small of her back and pulled her tightly against him. His tongue brushed hers and Allie thought her knees would give out from under her.
She held his face, feeling the rough scruff of his unshaven jaw, slid her hand down his throat, the back of his neck, and their kiss became frantic, as though neither could be satisfied.
The warmth and roughness of Gabe’s hand skimmed her lower back as he felt beneath her blouse, and then moved over her ribs and up to her shoulder blades, down her spine, and up again where he hesitantly brushed the side of her breast. Unable to stop it, Allie gasped.
Gabe jerked back, out of breath. He let her go and took a couple of steps back. “Christ, I’m sorry, lass. I couldna help myself.”
“Well, ’tis a bloody good thing you finally did, you scalawag,” said the friar, sifting out of nowhere. “As far as the helping of young Gabe here goes, we’re all in.”
Behind him, the rest of the Odin’s Thumb spirits, minus Justin and plus Dauber, emerged as though stepping off an unseen escalator, all with a resounding and agreeing round of “aye.”
Allie placed two fingers over her lips.
Good Lord, they’d been watching for who knew how long. She felt like hiding. Had there been a rock to climb under, she would have.
“Oy, no need to cover up, lass; we all seen,” said Lord Killigrew. “Damn me, but the maids do know how to kiss in this century.” He winked at Gabe. “Lucky bastard, you are.”
“I wholeheartedly agree with you there,” said Lord Ramsey. “Pity we were never able to sample the like, aye?” He grinned at Allie. “With all due respect, miss.”
Allie felt her face grow warm, and she frowned. She was nearly as mortified by being caught by the Odin’s while lip-locked with Gabe MacGowan as she was the time her granny had caught her lip-locked with little Josh Canter in the fourth grade. Thank God Justin hadn’t seen. He would never let her live it down.
Then she glanced around. The spirits looked like serious ghosts, flimsy-transparent with only the smallest amount of coloration as they moved over the grassy flat of the cliff. “Where’s Justin?” she asked.
Mademoiselle heaved a sigh. “He stayed behind to visit Wee Mary. She was feeling dreadfully alone.”
Dauber ambled close to Allie and leaned toward her ear. “Are you all right, love?”
Allie smiled at her old friend. “I am.”
“Great!” said the friar. “It seems we have some discussions to handle regarding young Gabe’s decision to sell the pub and inn, and I say Odin’s is much more accommodating than this drafty old cliff.”
A round of ayes sounded.
Gabe finally spoke up. “There is something else that needs discussing first and foremost.” His gaze clamped onto Allie’s. “There’s a month’s worth of potential buyers coming to view Odin’s over the next few weeks. I canna get out of it. Realtor’s contract.”
Allie smiled. “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind about selling?”
Gabe rubbed first his eyes, then his jaw. He glanced at each of the Odin’s souls, Dauber, then back to Allie. “I just dunna know if ’tis the right decision.”
Allie smiled wide. “Well, that’s a start.” She looked at her ghostly cohorts. “It seems we have some serious business to discuss. Right, guys?”
Another round of ayes carried on the cool Highland air.
Allie glanced at her accomplices. She felt pretty confident things could be handled appropriately.
She hoped, anyway.
Once more, her eyes locked with Gabe’s. Her body still hummed from their kiss, from his touch—so much she was amazed she hadn’t keeled over yet. They’d made progress. Good progress.
She hoped.
She could barely wait to see what the morning would bring.
> Much to Allie’s chagrin, the very thing morning brought was not at all what she had expected.
Gabe’s absence.
At least this time, though, he wasn’t running away. Wee Mary had greeted her first thing upon rising to say Gabe had gone in to Inverness to have a meeting with the Realtor he’d signed the contract with.
To Allie, that was yet another step in the right direction.
So after her usual trip to Leona’s for her pastry and coffee, Allie stopped at the red phone booth on the corner to make another call to her mom. The cold loch wind, particularly fierce for the morning, whipped her hair and stung her cheeks. Tears formed in her eyes from that cold blast and she brushed at them with her knuckles. Sealladh na Mara glistened in the early morning sun, with tiny shards sparkling atop the surface of the loch. Offshore, far into the sound, a large sailboat sat at anchor. She’d noticed that same vessel the night before, at the dance, just as the sun began to set. It had cast the loch and Sealladh na Mara into a fierce, reddish orange glow that had all but taken her breath away.
Funny, how a place could have that effect on a person.
On her.
Zipping her hoodie to the throat, Allie stepped inside the phone booth, pulled out her prepaid phone card, and dialed the numbers. After a four-second warning of how many minutes remained on the card, the number was connected. After three rings her mother answered.
“Hi, Mom,” Allie said. “Are you busy?”
Her mom laughed. “Always. But I always have time for you. How’s my baby?”
Allie thought it was great to hear her mom’s voice. “I’m fine, Mom. It’s beautiful here.”
“I bet it is—oh Lord, here. Talk to Boe. She’s dancing up and down to talk to you.”
A second passed as her mom handed the phone off. “Hey, brat. You could have asked me to go with you.”
Allie grinned. “Sorry. You were too busy petting the fishes.” Boe, doing her internship as a marine biologist with a specialty on sharks, had been out to sea for over a month when Allie left for Scotland.
“Sharks, ding-dong, and we don’t pet. We tag. We observe. We research.”
Allie gave a snort. “Tag. Pet. All spells crazy to me.”
“You’re not allowed to call anyone crazy.”
“Oh, really? Did you get in the cage this time?”
Boe sighed. “I live for the cage.”
In the background, Allie heard her mother say to Boe, “Whose child are you, anyway?”
Allie and Boe laughed together.
“Seriously, how long are you going to be there?” Boe asked.
Allie thought about it. “I’m not sure. There’s a lot of work to be done here.”
“Lots of spookies, huh?” said Boe.
Allie chuckled and turned to glance out of the phone booth—
“Whoa!” she shrieked.
She stared right into the smirking face of Justin Catesby.
“What’s wrong?” Boe asked.
Allie placed a hand over her racing heart, frowned at Justin, who merely grinned that lopsided grin and crossed his arms over his chest, and she blew out a breath. “Let’s just say the spookies, as you call them, while a handful to the max, aren’t the problem. It’s the man who employed me.”
“Already I’m fascinated. What are the souls like?”
Allie stared at Justin through the glass. He’d pushed his tricorn back a ways, exposing a little more forehead. His long leather overcoat hung down below his knees, and the sword at his side almost gleamed in the sun. He gave her an arrogant grin.
“Well, the one I’m staring at right now,” Allie started in a low voice, so Justin couldn’t hear, “is one drop-dead-gorgeous sea captain from the seventeenth century.”
“More,” Boe said.
“Shoulder-length dark hair, wavy, with a close-clipped goatee, smoldering brown eyes, and a great build.”
Justin smiled wide.
“And nice white teeth.”
“I thought pirates had rotted teeth, or maybe gold ones.”
“Too many movies, Boe,” Allie said. “Justin’s are nice, straight, and white.”
“Justin, huh? Sounds nice. So is he your problem spirit?”
In the background, Allie heard her mom and younger sister, Ivy, say in unison, “Who’s the problem spirit?”
Allie laughed as she continued to watch Justin strike multiple cocky poses, including withdrawing his pistols and holding them in a very 007-ish manner. She shook her head and he laughed. “While Justin is definitely a handful, he’s not the problem. Like I said, it’s the man who hired me.”
“Talk to me, Sis,” Boe said.
Allie sighed. “Too long of a story for now, but maybe later. Let’s just say the mortal in the case has way more unsettled matters of the soul than the ghosts do.”
“Ghosts? As in plural?” Boe asked.
“Yep. A friar. A French noblewoman. And two English lords.”
Boe laughed. “Good God. I bet Dauber would be jealous. He is such a mother hen.”
Allie smiled. Not long after Allie and Dauber met had Boe happened to pop in for a long weekend.
That was Boe’s first experience with a spirited soul. In the beginning, she’d been resistant to believing Allie’s claims to see ghosts. But Dauber had a few tricks up his sleeve, and it wasn’t long before Boe’s resistance to believe had been shattered.
As soon as it had, she’d been able to see Alexander Dauber to the fullest.
And she’d adored him ever since.
Allie’s mom and other sisters soon followed suit.
“Well,” Allie said. “Dauber’s here. Mother-henning as we speak.”
“Amazing,” Boe sighed. “Hey, you know something?”
“What?”
Her sister paused, then said, “I had a dream about Dad last night. Strange, but I hadn’t dreamt about him in a while.”
Allie’s chest tightened. She missed her father fiercely. “What was it about?”
“Remember the time we found that bag of dog food, and thought it’d be huge fun to poke holes in it?”
Allie laughed. “And dog food spilled all over the clean clothes in the laundry room and Mom chased us outside with with the flyswatter?”
“And when Dad tried to intercept Mom, they both went down in the driveway?” Boe laughed.
Allie remembered the day well. “It was just a few days before he died.” James Morgan had the absolute best smile, and he’d been laughing like a hyena that day, covered in mud.
“Yeah, I know. I miss him,” she said, then muttered something under her breath. “Hey, Mom wants to talk again. Call me later, why don’t you? I miss you so much I think I could sit and chat for hours. Oh, and Sika says hi.” Sika was the nickname they used for their sister Ivy.
“Are you being careful?” asked Sara, Allie’s mom, taking the phone back. “I worry about you being in a town full of people you don’t know.”
To that, Allie smiled. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. The people here are super nice. You’d love it here. Sort of reminds me of your place. And I never get tired of hearing the West Highland accent.”
“That makes me feel better,” said Sara. “I miss you, you know.”
“I know, Mom. I miss you, too.” She glanced again at Justin, who’d finally given up trying to make her laugh and was now leaned against the phone booth. Or at least he seemed to be leaning. “Where’s Emma?”
“She ran out to the market,” Sara said. “She should be home soon.”
Allie glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go anyway, so just tell her I love her, okay?”
“Will do. Love you, baby. Take care.”
And with that, they hung up.
Allie stepped out of the phone booth and Justin was still grinning from ear to swarthy ear. He fell into step beside Allie, and she looked at him. “What is up with you today?” she asked.
He traced his goatee with his thumb and forefinger, never once breaking his stare.
“You find me drop-dead gorgeous, aye?”
Allie stopped, mouth open. “Oh! Stinkpot! How did you hear me?”
Justin lifted a brow. “Me first mate was deaf as a plank o’ wood. I watched him read lips, so I picked up the habit, as well.” He chuckled. “I find myself already sorry for admitting the likes to you. ’Twould have been quite useful, me reading your lips without you knowing I was doing so.”
Allie mock frowned and continued walking. “You are a naughty man, Justin Catesby. Very, very naughty.”
Justin Catesby could do nothing more than laugh.
And Allie could do little more than join him.
Chapter 15
After dinner had been cleared away and the last patron had left, Gabe, who’d finally made it home, Allie, Wee Mary, Gabe’s mom, Laina, and all of the Odin’s Thumb souls plus Dauber gathered in the main pub lobby to discuss the contract Gabe had acquired to sell the place, along with options. Options, Allie gathered, that Gabe was being somewhat resistant to. He’d mentioned his concerns that night on the cliff top, and they were true concerns. Ones Allie, and the others, could all understand.
But what concerned her more was that Gabe’s bigger issues were with himself and Kait. His past haunted him fiercely, and until he could let it go and possibly forgive himself, Allie knew and warned the others that selling Odin’s and leaving Sealladh na Mara, in Gabe’s eyes, was the only answer.
A small crack had started in Gabe’s reserve, though.
Allie planned to take a wedge and widen that crack to the very best of her ability.
Lord Ramsey rubbed his chin. “I’m not following. You signed a bloody contract to guarantee a sale?”
“Christ, man, why would you do such a thing?” said Captain Catesby.
Allie could tell Gabe was getting frustrated. He rubbed the back of his neck and pinched the bridge of his nose. More than once.
He explained again. “Because. At the time—which was before I hired Allie—I felt selling was my only option. After you crazy fools scared off more than a half dozen potential buyers, I thought getting a guarantee per a Realtor would make sure Odin’s would sell.” He glanced at Allie. “I wasn’t expecting to have my mind changed.”