MacGowan's Ghost

by Cindy Miles

  Kait’s spirit was tormenting him, and he was beginning to fear she would do something harmful to Jake. ’Twas the real reason he now considered following through with leaving Sealladh na Mara. What if Kait could hurt his son? His own tormenting he could handle. But menace toward Jake? Christ . . .

  He faced Allie’s room now. And just like every other night, he simply stood there, in the dim light of Odin’s corridor. Staring.

  He placed the flat of each hand on either side of the jamb and leaned his forehead against the cool oak and closed his eyes. He knew she’d be in there, sound asleep. He’d even tried several times to convince himself that, if he did venture into her room, he’d only do so to talk to her. She comforted him. Soothed him. Made him feel alive for the first time since . . . Christ, he couldna even remember.

  But he knew himself much better than that.

  Knew his own body even better.

  And what Allie Morgan did to him.

  Drawing in a long, deep breath, Gabe let it out slowly. He’d not had a drink in more than four years. Four bloody years. He’d not missed it. Not at all.

  Yet kissing Allie Morgan, feeling her skin beneath his palms, her body pressed to his, made him more intoxicated than anything that came from a bottle. Her blunt honesty, her humor, and her genuine love and affection for mankind—dead and alive—moved him. She’d taken to his family. His neighbors.

  Him.

  He opened his eyes, pushed away from the door, and eased downstairs. No sooner had he chosen a block of marble and his tools, and situated himself on the work stool than a voice interrupted.

  “Keeping late nights again, eh, lad?”

  Gabe turned and nodded at Captain Catesby. “Aye, so it seems.” He inclined his head. “Conjure yourself up a stool and sit.”

  Wordlessly, the captain did.

  For several minutes, Gabe worked on his marble, neither he nor Catesby saying a word.

  The ghost didna stay silent for long.

  “How bad are the dreams, lad?”

  Gabe continued his chiseling, blowing, chiseling. “Bad enough.” He glanced at his old friend. “Stop callin’ me lad, Justin. We’re the same age.”

  Justin shrugged. “I was there when you were pissin’ your bairn cloths, boy. ’Tis a hard habit, watchin’ you grow up and then treatin’ you as my equal.” He grinned. “Lad.”

  Gabe grinned. “I suppose.”

  Justin leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. The white cloth of his shirt ruffles slipped from the cuffs of his overcoat and hung down. “I am powerfully glad to know you’ve come to your senses about selling the place, by the by.”

  Gabe glanced at him but kept working. “How do you know that’s my decision?” After that last experience with Kait, he again felt completely unsure.

  “Because I know for a bloody fact that those dreams you’re havin’ are the cause of your wanting to leave.”

  Gabe stopped what he was doing and met Justin’s gaze. “They’re more than dreams.” He scrubbed his jaw. “I’m afraid for Jake.”

  Justin gave a gusty, ghostly sigh. “You should talk to Allie about Kait, lad. She can help.”

  Gabe considered. “I dunno. Things have changed, Justin. Kait has left my dreams and is now more tangible.” He looked at the sea captain. “She isna like the rest of you.” He waved a hand. “You look as you did in life. Kait is . . . unimaginable. I’m afraid she’d frighten Allie or Jake.”

  Justin stroked his beard. “She wouldna hurt her own son, lad.”

  Gabe shook his head. “The vision I just experienced involved Jake. He said, She wants me to come.”

  Justin clasped his hands. “You know, boy, Allie has a special gift. She touches souls unlike any I’ve ever encountered.” He looked at Gabe. “She could try to reason with Kait’s soul—”

  “Bloody hell, no,” said Gabe. “I willna allow it. Kait isna like the rest of you. She seems . . . touched by evil.”

  Justin rubbed his brow. “I say you should talk to Allie. I’m sure she could help.”

  They were silent for a moment before Gabe spoke again.

  He blew on the small chunk of marble, taking on the first resemblances of a warhorse. “There are no children his age in the village to play with.”

  “He sees plenty at school. Besides—children are going to misbehave whether they’re bored with no friends their own age about, or a gaggle of boys to sneak off and do mischievous things with.” He shrugged. “ ’Tis the nature of boys, methinks.”

  Gabe gave a sideways glance and continued his work. “Methinks you’re speaking from experience.”

  Justin laughed. “I did give me mum a gray hair or two, indeed.” He cleared his throat. “About the dreams. Tell Allie about them—”

  “Nay.” Gabe gave him a dark glare. “I dunna want her knowin’, mate. I’m no’ even sure how you know.”

  Justin stood and took off his tricorn. He ran a hand through his hair. “Because I’ve had to settle your boy more times than I can count after one of your dreams.” He glared right back. “He hears them, you ken? He knows ’tis his mum who torments you.”

  Gabe set the chunk of marble down and stood. He hooked his hands behind his neck and stared at the floor.

  “Mayhap she can help, boy,” Justin said. “ ’Tis what she does for a livin’, aye? She’s got a way with otherworldly souls—ways I’ve never seen a mortal possess before.”

  Gabe scrubbed his jaw. “So you just mentioned two minutes ago.” He blew out a breath. “She’s involved enough as it is, Justin. She’ll be gone after a month’s time, anyway.”

  Justin stopped and stared. “What do you mean, she’ll be gone?”

  Gabe lifted his gaze. “She’s from America, man. She doesna live here.” He turned his back and walked to the window. He hated to think of it, Allie’s leaving. But inevitably, it’d come. He knew it. “Whatever my final decision is about Odin’s, once the contract is null and void, she’ll be leavin’. For good.”

  Justin simply stared for a moment, anger building in his ghostly eyes. “And you’re just goin’ to let her, then? Just bloody leave?”

  Gabe returned the angry glare. “What would you have me do, Justin? She’s no ties here. Her life is back there.” He inclined his head in the direction of the sea. “An ocean away.”

  Justin braced his legs wide, tossed his hat onto the conjured stool he’d been sitting on, and folded his arms over his chest. “So your plans, then, laddie, are to dally with the lass whenever you like, aye? Take your ease with no regard to her?”

  Gabe stared, anger rising enough to make his skin hum. “Dunna preach to me, Captain. What I do with her is me own business.”

  Justin glared. “Do you care for her, then?”

  Christ, he didna know what he felt. Had he known her long enough to care? The thought of her leaving made an ache grow in his stomach. That meant something, in truth.

  But care?

  As in love?

  Gabe swore and turned around, faced the wall. “Why are you so bloody concerned about her, Justin?”

  When the captain didna answer, Gabe slowly glanced at him.

  And then it hit him.

  He looked hard at Justin. “What? You care for her?”

  Justin did nothing but curse and look away.

  Gabe gave a short laugh. “I canna believe I’m havin’ this conversation with you. You care for her, Justin?”

  “Mayhap I do.”

  Gabe paced, glanced at his friend, and paced some more. “ ’Tis crazy, my friend—”

  Justin turned, stormed across the room, and stopped, toe-to-toe with Gabe. He gave him a fierce frown. “No crazier than havin’ a woman like Allie who in fact does care and then throw her out on her arse!”

  Gabe had witnessed Justin Catesby angry before. Never had he seen him as he was now.

  Justin pointed a finger at him. “You mind how you tread on her heart, boy. You mind it well.” He strode to the stool, lifted his tricorn, and pu
lled it onto his head. He turned. “Or bad dreams will be the least of your concern.”

  With that, Captain Justin Catesby faded away. Gabe stared at the spot Justin had just occupied. He walked over to his worktable, picked up the chess piece he’d been carving, cursed, pulled his arm back, and aimed for the door.

  Just before he let it fly, he squeezed his fist tightly over it, cursed again, and set the piece back on the table.

  Storming out of his workshop, he went to the sofa in the pub’s lobby and flung himself into it. With narrowed eyes, he stared into the dying peat fire.

  What in bloody hell was he to do? Allie was on his mind constantly. When he was around her, his idiot brain turned to porridge and could barely form a decent thought. When they kissed, he wanted more.

  When he touched her?

  He wanted it all.

  Did that mean he cared for her? Or, for Christ’s sake, that he loved her? He was a screwup. A recovering alcoholic who used to smoke like a friggin’ freight train and whose first wife was so bloody unhappy she drowned herself in the damned ocean?

  How the bloody hell would he know what love was?

  With the heel of his hand, he rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion overtook him and his eyelids grew heavy. The longer Gabe stared into the glowing embers of the peat, the sleepier he became.

  Until finally, he simply allowed it to happen.

  As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he prayed that morning would come fast.

  It didna. Not before another spirit visited with his twopence worth of advice.

  “Ahem.” A throat cleared, just as Gabe was about to drift off to sleep. He cracked open an eye.

  Alexander Dauber stood before him, hands clasped behind his back, a somber expression upon his ghostly face.

  Gabe sat straighter. “Aye?”

  “I wanted to add one thing to Captain Catesby’s concerns, sir,” Dauber said.

  Gabe blinked. “You heard?”

  Dauber nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh, of course. We all did. ’Twas quite a ruckus, indeed.”

  Rubbing his chin, Gabe met Allie’s friend’s gaze. “And you have something more to add, right?”

  “Indeed.”

  Gabe gave him a nod to start.

  “I’ll keep this short, as Captain Catesby said pretty much what we all were thinking,” Dauber said. “But this is more on a personal level. I’ve known Allie since she was a young girl.”

  “Aye?”

  Dauber glanced down at his boots, then met Gabe eye-to-eye. “The lass has been terribly heartbroken before. I was with her through that suffering and ’twas the most heart-wrenching thing to witness, I assure you.” He scratched his brow. “The young man she’d given her heart to—Jared—completely chose another girl, out of the blue. While they’d not officially become engaged, they’d talked of marriage.” He shook his head. “Allie was devastated when he broke off their relationship. Simply devastated. And she’s not given her heart to another since.” He sighed. “I know you’ve been through some mighty vicious times in your own young life, lad, and that you’ve conquered quite a battle. For that I commend you.”

  Gabe gave a single nod.

  “But I beg you not to toy with her emotions, Gabe MacGowan. She is a giving soul. If one is lucky enough to win that young girl’s love, he must surely know the jewel he’s unearthed. ’Tis evident in everything Allie does.”

  Gabe stared, speechless. He already knew that.

  “There’s a reason why our Allie has such a strong passion for life, as well as for those whose demise arrived far too soon, or in an unnatural manner. A reason why she’s so good with the dead.”

  That got Gabe’s attention.

  “Your month will pass quickly, lad. Don’t waste time you simply don’t have.” Dauber began to fade.

  “Don’t.”

  Gabe blinked at the empty spot of air Dauber had just occupied.

  So Allie had a secret or two, as did he himself.

  With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes. He rubbed the sockets with both hands, and thought just how much he and Allie needed to have a long, long talk . . .

  Chapter 17

  The sun hadn’t quite broken through the clouds, the wind was icy—yet Allie thought it to be a perfectly beautiful morning.

  She supposed she liked Scotland quite a lot.

  And now she had the answer to a single question that had plagued her for some time.

  What did Gabe MacGowan do to maintain a chiseled six-pack and bulging biceps?

  She followed the answer with her eyes. The man rowed. Rowed. As in, in the water, in a little skinny boat, with oars.

  Wee Mary had let Allie in on that little tidbit, and had sent her to the best seat in Sealladh na Mara: Wee Mary’s front porch.

  Gabe hadn’t a clue they watched.

  Which was all the better.

  “Quite a sight, aye?” Wee Mary said.

  “Oui, indeed,” said Mademoiselle, who’d joined them.

  “Wow, look at him go,” said Allie. “How long has he been rowing?”

  Wee Mary smiled as she watched her nephew in the loch. “Och, he’s always been into sports and such, but he started rowing when he was a wee lad—Jake’s age, perhaps. He also sails, and as a younger lad played a good bit of rugby, as well, oh, and football.” She grinned at Allie. “That’d be your American soccer, love.”

  Allie returned the grin. “Gotcha.” She watched Gabe row, and even from a distance she could tell how much strength and effort it took. No wonder the guy was solid as a rock. “Does Jake row?” She couldn’t remember ever seeing him in the loch.

  “No, I’m afraid his da wouldna allow it. Shame, really,” Mary said. She turned to Allie. “What do you know about Jake’s mother, love?”

  Allie shrugged and shielded her eyes as she watched Gabe. “Only that she and Gabe had a very rocky marriage, and that she died before Jake was a year old.”

  “Och,” said Mary. “I see he’s no’ told you everythin’. Tsk-tsk.” She glanced at Allie, who’d turned to listen. “He’ll tell you, no doubt, all in his own good time. ’Tis the way of a man, no doubt. But I will tell you this much. Jake’s mother drowned.” She pointed to where Gabe rowed, just there, beyond the sound, where a string of tiny islands lay. Part of the Inner Hebrides. “When young Jake showed an interest in the rowin’, Gabe refused. He’s put him in other sports, and does quite a lot with the lad. But willna allow him in the sea.”

  Allie considered that. “Doesn’t Jake know how to swim?”

  Mary nodded. “Och, aye, Gabe made sure the lad learned. He took him to the youth center in Wester Ross three times a week just last year. The lad swims like a fish. But his da willna allow him in the loch.” Again, she shook her head. “ ’Tis a shame, but Gabe’s been through a lot. I understand his hesitancy, with Jake’s mum drowning there.” She glanced at Allie. “Ye ken?”

  Allie blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Mademoiselle giggled. “She means, Do you understand? ” She gave Allie a knowing look. “I’ve learned quite a lot just from sitting on this very porch.”

  “I’ll bet.” Allie smiled at Mary. “Yes. I definitely ken, then.”

  Wee Mary and Mademoiselle both laughed.

  “Och, now, what sort of mischief have you gone and gotten your wee self into, lass?” boomed a deep, heavily brogued voice.

  Allie turned to find a tall, lean, and quite handsome older man walking up the steps to Wee Mary’s porch, wearing dark trousers, a dark turtlenecked gray sweater, and a dark skullcap. The wide smile and green eyes left little doubt who he was.

  Mary turned in her seat and grinned. “Oh, you scalawag, ’tis about time your old arse washed ashore.” She gave a nod toward Allie. “Your boy has picked up an American, Gerald.”

  Gerald’s eyes sparkled mischief and he held Allie’s gaze for several moments. Not quite as intense as Gabe’s, but still—both men spoke volumes with just their eyes. “Aye, so I see.” He swiped off his cap and gave
a gentlemanly nod. “Nice to meet you, lass. Laina’s told me all about you.”

  Allie nodded in return. “Nice to meet you, too.” She noticed he had the same hairline as Gabe’s, the same close-clipped hair, only Gerald’s had tiny streaks of silver throughout, and silver at his temples. Still, quite a looker.

  Gerald then nodded to Elise. “Mademoiselle, always a pleasure.”

  Elise giggled. “Merci, as with you, as well.”

  Gerald glanced out over the loch. “How long has he been at it?”

  Wee Mary sighed. “About an hour and a half now. He should come in soon.”

  “Right. Tell him I’ll see him later, then,” Gerald said. He grinned wide. “I’ve got me bride to see, first.” He nodded. “Lassies, a good morn to you.”

  With that he waved and left.

  Allie glanced at her watch. Eight forty a.m. “I’d better run, too, and start getting set up for lunch.”

  “Aye, and tomorrow is the showing of the pub, right?” asked Wee Mary. “Bright and early if memory serves me.”

  Allie stood and glanced at Gabe once more. “Yes.” She turned and gave Mary a smile. “We’ll be ready.”

  Mary exchanged glances with Elise. “We’ll all be ready.”

  Their giggles sifted over the crisp air as Allie made her way up the single-track lane toward Odin’s Thumb.

  She took in her seaside view of Sealladh na Mara as she walked, and really, breathtaking hardly described it. The quaint little cottages, whitewashed with dark roofs, and the craggy cliffs just beyond the loch, the brightly painted signs on the establishments lining the walk . . . not to mention the fresh, clean air, tinged with brine. Gosh, she couldn’t imagine the beauty of it in the spring and summer.

  Stopping in her tracks, she turned and studied the MacGowan ruins at the top of the cliff. She’d not been able to inspect it well enough that night with Gabe—she’d been too busy stomping around and acting like a bully.

  And kissing. They’d certainly been busy kissing.

  She’d hardly been able to think of anything else.

  She continued on. Sweet God, the man could kiss. All that barely contained energy on the verge of igniting, he was like one big, intense, powerful stick of dynamite.