MacGowan's Ghost

by Cindy Miles

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  Gabe grinned. “You’ll see.”

  Several minutes later, Gabe turned the Rover onto a long private drive and started the ascent. Tall Scotch pines, oaks, and rowans, as Gabe pointed out, rose behind a small white cottage at the top of the hill. They parked the Rover and Gabe shut off the ignition.

  He turned to her and grinned. “You’re no’ afraid of monsters, are you, Allie Morgan?” he asked. He wagged his brows.

  Allie cocked her head. “Monsters?”

  Gabe grinned, got out, and came around and opened her door. He pulled her to her feet, turned her around, and pulled her against him, her back to his front. Allie glanced up, and the sun shot through the canopy of trees above them, dotting everything with little patches of light. The air, a bit cooler, smelled clean and crisp in contrast to the warmth of Gabe behind her.

  Gabe leaned his head, brushed his lips to her ear, his breath on her skin making her shiver; then he whispered, that deep brogue washing over her, “Close your eyes, Allie Morgan.”

  Without question, she did.

  “Now move with me, lass,” he said, urging her forward, his hands guiding her hips. “I willna let you trip or run into anythin’.” Again, his mouth moved to her ear. “Trust me.”

  “I can barely concentrate on moving my feet when you do that thing to my ear,” she said.

  Gabe laughed softly. “Sorry. I canna seem to help myself. Now just take regular steps. We’ll be there soon.”

  Although Gabe was driving her completely wild with his hands on her hips, his chest against her back, and the scruff of his chin against her neck, Allie moved. How she managed it, when all she wanted to do was dissolve into a puddle of mush at his feet, she couldn’t decide. Her heart soared at their nearness, at the thought of being alone.

  At the thought of controlling themselves.

  She could just imagine the friar popping in at the most inopportune time. It made her smile.

  “No peekin’,” Gabe warned.

  “I willna,” Allie answered.

  Gabe laughed, and Allie felt the low rumble in his chest at her back.

  After a few minutes of walking in that heavenly state, with Gabe MacGowan’s hands gripping her hips, he finally angled her, and then pulled her to a stop.

  His strong arms slid around her abdomen, he pressed close against her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Open your eyes, Allie Morgan.”

  Slowly, she did, and she gasped.

  The beauty of it literally took her breath away.

  High atop a craggy, pine-covered cliff they stood, with a wide loch that seemed to stretch for miles in either direction below them. The sunlight glistened off the water, making it sparkle like a thousand shards of glass. On the other side of the loch, more heather-clad hills and hardwoods whose leaves had begun to change color.

  “Again, I ask,” he said in her ear, and a shiver ran over her spine at the warmth of his breath on her skin, “are you afraid of monsters?”

  Allie leaned against him as her answer struck. “You mean Nessie?” She smiled and turned in his arms.

  “This is Loch Ness?”

  Gabe grinned. “Aye, a portion of it, anyway.” He looked at her. “ ’Tis one of my favorite places. I thought you might like—”

  Allie hushed him with her mouth. Slipping her hands over Gabe’s neck, she pulled his head down and kissed him. At first surprised, Allie felt Gabe’s body relax, and he pulled her tightly against him and kissed her back. His hands, flat against her back, lowered, sliding over her backside, and pulled her even closer.

  She knew then how much Gabe really liked kissing her.

  At that contact, Gabe groaned, a low sound coming from deep within him, and his kiss deepened, tasting every corner of Allie’s mouth, her tongue, and he groaned again and pulled back. He looked at her, green eyes now a tumultuous green gray, their bodies so close Allie could feel his heart beating.

  After a moment, he smiled. “I take it you like the loch?”

  Allie smiled. “Absolutely.”

  It was only then, glancing behind Gabe, that she noticed the back of the cottage had an enormous railed deck that ran to the edge of the cliff, overlooking the loch. An outdoor stone fireplace sat off to one side, and what looked to be the frame of a wooden sofa, minus cushions, stood before the hearth.

  She looked at him, only to find Gabe watched her closely. “Whose place is this?” she asked.

  Gabe glanced out over the loch, shrugged, and grinned. “Mine.”

  Chapter 23

  Allie simply blinked. “Yours?” Again, Gabe shrugged. “ ’Tis small, so it didna take me long to build. I bought the land on a foreclosure.”

  “You built it? As in”—she held up her hands and wiggled her fingers—“built it?”

  The pride in Gabe’s eyes flickered. “Aye, I suppose I did. With some help from me da, Sean, and friends.”

  “It’s gorgeous, Gabe,” she said. “When did you have time to build it? You’re at Odin’s nearly every day.”

  He glanced up at the cottage’s roof, at the deck, and back to the loch. He didn’t look at her. “When I was dryin’ out.”

  Without hesitation, Allie stepped into his arms, lifted her hands to his jaw, and forced him to look at her.

  He did.

  “Then it’s almost as amazing as you, Gabe MacGowan.”

  He nodded, and the smile on his sexy lips reached his eyes. “You’re wily with the words, Allie Morgan.” He glanced down. “You have a way of makin’ a man forget he screwed up.” He kissed her, soft, slow, and long. When he lifted his head, his green eyes were stormy. “Thank you.”

  Allie had to remind herself to breathe. God, the way he looked at her made her feel completely alive. She grazed his jaw with her fingertips. “Are you going to show me the monster?” she asked.

  One side of his mouth quirked and he lifted a dark brow.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Dunna be a perv, MacGowan.” She jerked a finger over her shoulder, toward the loch. “The monster oot there.”

  Gabe’s quirky grin turned into a full-blown smile, just before he threw back his head and laughed. In the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, he rubbed his jaw and his eyes twinkled. “You, Allie Morgan, are somethin’ else.” He shook his head. “Aye, let’s go look for the monster, then.”

  After a tour of the cottage—which, although small, as Gabe had said, was immaculate and charming, with two small bedrooms, a fireplace, kitchen, and living room—Allie stood, staring. Completely furnished, it was the perfect getaway home.

  “I had a friend from across the loch stop over, air it out, and take off the coverings,” Gabe said, looking around. “His wife was kind enough to send us a bit of food, too.” He pointed. “I met them both whilst building it. They have a cottage, just there.” He pointed across the way and up to the left. “The Munros. Nice couple.” He looked at her. “They’ll probably stop over this evening, if you’ve a mind to mingle.”

  “I’ll be happy to mingle,” said Allie, and briefly thought of how, not very long ago, she’d admitted to Dauber that she wasn’t much of a mingler at all. Funny, how some things change according to the people who unexpectedly pop into your life. Imagine her, Allie Morgan. A mingler.

  “Och, I’ve got somethin’ for you,” Gabe said, unzipped one of the two large duffel bags he’d brought, and withdrew a long pair of . . . rubber boots?

  He handed them to her. “Your very own Wellies.”

  She laughed and took them, turning them around to inspect. Just a tall, rubber pair of boots. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.”

  Gabe laughed, too. “Aye, well, you’ll be glad you have them once we start walkin’. ’Tis a requirement of being a true Scotsman, aye? A sturdy pair of Wellingtons to get you through the forest and muck.”

  Gabe laughed at her expression. “You’ll see.”

  So she pulled on her Wellies. They fit perfectly.

  How else coul
d one possibly go in search of the most infamous and elusive monster in the world?

  Gabe and Allie spent the rest of the afternoon hill walking, taking a path Gabe himself had taken many times whilst drying out. Christ, that had been the most difficult of times. Ethan, his neighbor across the loch, had been building his cottage at the same time and had been a huge help. Along with two brothers, a handful of cousins, and Gabe’s brother and father, they’d all pitched in and seen Gabe through the worst time of his life.

  The worst time in Jake’s life, as well.

  His mum swore Jake was too young to know what was happening, and too young to remember, but the thought still plagued Gabe. There his wee son was, in the care of his grands because the parents were too wrapped up in their own miseries no’ to be selfless enough to raise him with the proper care. Gabe had always loved Jake, from the moment he first laid eyes on him.

  He thanked God every day he had left that destructive life behind.

  And for the family and friends who pulled him through it.

  Allie’s hand reached over then, and took his. So much smaller than his, softer, delicate, yet Gabe felt a powerful strength radiating from her. It frightened him.

  She looked up and smiled, the sun falling through the leaves and onto her face. She had the smallest of freckles on her nose, and when she smiled, her eyes squinted into the most adorable half-moons. She took his breath away every time he looked at her. He couldn’t remember ever noticing such detail on a woman before.

  Truth be told, that frightened him, too.

  He was beginning to think he was a bloody chicken.

  “Tell me about your family,” Gabe said, wanting to relieve his mind of old ghosts. “Sean says you claim your sisters are even more gorgeous than you.” He pulled her close. “Which I refuse to believe.”

  Allie giggled. “Emma is two years younger than me. She’s smart, very serious, tall, and has my mother’s hair—a lovely auburn. Like Jake’s. And she has hazel eyes.” She thought a minute. “Boe—short for Boedine, which she hates, and she cringes whenever one of us calls her that—is the wild child of the bunch. My father insisted on naming her after his grand-mother. Four years younger than me, strawberry blond straight hair with blue eyes like mine,” Allie said, batting her eyes. “She is a marine biologist.”

  “Really?” Gabe said. “Interesting.”

  “Tell that to my mother. Boe’s specialty is sharks and it freaks my poor mom out.”

  They came to an enormous fallen pine, and Gabe stopped and smiled down at Allie. “And the last sister?”

  Allie sat, and Gabe followed. “Ivy. We’ve always called her Sika, though. She looks more like my father, with dark hair and green eyes. Quite a looker. She helps run the B and B my mother owns. She’s a gourmet chef and good God, that girl can cook.”

  Gabe picked a piece of loose bark, studied it, and tossed it onto a patch of mossy ground. “You miss them, aye?”

  Allie nodded, stretching her legs out and studying her Wellingtons. “Yes, I do.”

  “So why do you stay in Raleigh?” he asked.

  Brushing the tree bits from her hands, she rested them on her thighs and blew out a sigh. “I guess I don’t know. After my dad died, my mother tried to make a living in Raleigh with us girls, but it was hard on her. The memories were difficult, and my mom had always been a stay-at-home mother. She searched and searched for something she could make money at and still give her daughters a good life.” She smiled. “She’s a great mom. And when she inherited a B and B from her great-aunt, she jumped at the chance.” She shrugged. “That chance happened to be in Maine.”

  “Long way off.”

  “Yes. So I worked hard at my grades and got a full scholarship to NC State University. My mom and sisters stayed, of course, in Maine.”

  Gabe cleared his voice, lifted her hand, and studied her long fingers. “Can you tell me how ’tis that a gorgeous woman like yourself isna taken?” He looked at her and waited.

  “You’re crazy,” she said quietly, but she smiled. “The usual story, I guess. My heart’s been broken, so I’ve been majorly cautious, involving myself in loads of work. Before that, I was busy in school, and I suppose most guys probably thought I was a little weird. I never partied, never went to clubs, didn’t belong to any school organizations or athletic departments. I had friends, but I wasn’t involved. You know? I was that girl.” She shrugged. “Maybe because I’d sort of found my calling, if you will. With spirits.”

  Gabe gave what he hoped was a comforting smile. “Lucky me.”

  She shook her head and stared at her feet. “Crazy.”

  He didna want to bring it up now—he’d wanted to wait, until later. But he found he couldna help himself. “Will you continue to stay there, Allie Morgan? In Raleigh, alone with your ghosts?”

  A soft breeze wafted through the trees, and it lifted a long strand of curls from Allie’s shoulder. She tucked it behind her ear and shrugged. She didna look at him. “I don’t know, Gabe.”

  Now she looked at him, those wide blue eyes full of question. “I could say a few things that would probably make you take off running for the hills.”

  Gabe’s heart lurched. He dared to hope for anything. He didna want to sound like a wee lad who’d never had a girl. Didna want to sound overly anxious. So he calmly took a breath and looked at her. “So try me, Allie Morgan.”

  Allie stared out across the forest, then up at the tall canopy of trees overhead. God, she must be insane to risk telling Gabe her feelings. Guys didn’t want feelings.

  But then again, not all men were like Gabe MacGowan.

  Just because she held out hope he would be interested, even a smidgen interested, in what she felt, didn’t mean Gabe was anything but macho. He was definitely that. He wasn’t a shouter; she hadn’t seen him get into any fistfights yet, but still—he was one proud Scotsman. Strong, a powerhouse of muscle, and fearing nothing that she could see, Gabe, to her, was the perfect guy. He had his imperfections—and he’d been man enough to be honest and share them with her. He was a strong but loving father—a single father at that and doing a fantastic job. He loved his family and treated the females in his life as if they were pieces of gold.

  Yeah, Gabe MacGowan had numerous marks that made him a very fine man.

  She glanced at him.

  He was grinning.

  She heaved a gusty sigh. “You’re making me nervous.”

  He glanced away, but in his voice she could still hear him smile. “Sorry.”

  Another sigh, and Allie kicked at a clump of dirt. “I guess, Gabe, you’ve sort of gotten to me. Somewhat. Well, a lot, really. Actually, I can’t stop thinking of you.” She swore under her breath—one of the nice Gaelic ones Wee Mary and Laina had taught her—and turned to him. “You, your son, your family—those bloody Odin’s ghosts. Sealladh na Mara.” She kicked another dirt clod, her voice sounding angry to her own ears. “I guess I’ve fallen for all of it, Gabe. Every last bit of it.” Then she muttered, “For you.”

  Gabe sat silent—didn’t say a single, solitary word for God knew how long. It seemed like bloody forever.

  Oh, gosh. I’ve even started talking like him now.

  Only the wind through the treetops rustled the leaves, making a crisp, crackling noise that would normally soothe and relax.

  Allie could hear the hands of her Timex tick-tick-tick ing as the seconds rolled by. That tiny sound rose above the wind and leaves, just to annoy her. To irritate her.

  And scare her to death.

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  Had she just made the wrong decision? Gabe was too silent, was taking too long to respond. And she was too chicken to take a peek. God, she wished mightily she could take it back and stuff it into her big ole mouth.

  Just when she thought she might scream out loud, Gabe took his knuckle, hooked her chin, and turned her face toward his. Usually so open, she now felt embarrassed. Or afraid to see the rejection in his eyes. She just wouldn’t l
ook . . .

  “Open your eyes, lass,” Gabe said, his voice deep, his words perfectly gauged. He cleared his throat. “Now.”

  Slowly, she did.

  And fixed her gaze directly over Gabe’s shoulder, to the nice rowan bush he’d shown her earlier.

  “Look at me.”

  Allie shifted her gaze. Gabe’s eyes, those mesmerizing, intoxicating eyes, had turned smoky, yet with so much depth and clarity Allie thought she could see all the way through them. She didn’t say a word, just locked on to Gabe.

  And then he spoke.

  “You thought that would have me runnin’ for the hills?”

  He moved his knuckle over her cheek, and then gently gripped her jaw with one hand. He lifted it, just a bit.

  “I dunna know how, lass, because I damn well wasna expectin’ it,” he started, and Allie noticed just how thick his accent had grown. “But it happened.” He scooted closer. “That night, when we first kissed, and you told me to breathe, and to look at you?” His gaze dropped to her lips, as though maybe he was remembering that kiss, and then lifted back to her eyes. “I knew then. I know it now without a doubt.”

  Allie sat completely still. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

  “I’m in love wi’ you, Allie Morgan,” he said, and his deep voice cracked, just a fraction. “Christ knows I’m in love with you.” He leaned to her then, and his lips brushed hers as he spoke. “You make me feel alive, whole again. And I desperately dunna want you to go away.”

  Allie’s heart soared. Inside, she quivered uncontrollably, and pressed her lips to Gabe’s. That small motion grounded her. He grounded her. With her eyes still open, she whispered, “I am so in love with you” against his mouth. “I don’t want to go, either.”