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Fergus_A Highlander Romance

Page 3

by Bess McBride


  “Soni?” he asked. “What is this? Is it time for me to go? So soon?”

  “Nay yet, Fergus. Ye have done naethin, really. But I canna give ye more than two days at most. It is all the time that ye have. I am so verra sorry.”

  Fergus tightened his jaw. He searched Casey’s face, but she resembled a statue, unseeing. He tightened his grasp on her hand, her skin still warm, alive.

  “Please, wee one. Give me six months to help the lass through her illness. I cannot abandon her!”

  “It isna possible, Fergus. Ye have until tomorrow at midnight to do what ye can. Then ye must let her go.”

  Fergus dropped his head to his chest for a moment, struggling to find more persuasive words, yet kenning that Soni would have given him more time if she could.

  “Fergus?” Casey asked. “Where did you go? Did I put you to sleep with my fussing?”

  Fergus looked up. Soni had vanished, and Casey now looked at him with a contrite expression. He had until midnight the following night. How could he help her in so short a time?

  He smiled reassuringly and brought Casey’s hand to his lips.

  “Not at all,” he said. “I was pleading for help.”

  “Oh!” Bright spots of red shone on her cheeks. “Well, that’s nice of you. I’ll be all right. Thank you.”

  She glanced at their entwined hands, and Fergus wondered at his boldness. He didna care that they were in public. He didna care that he had only kent Casey for a short while. They had little time together, and no time for courtship.

  “I hate to say this, but I think I’d better leave,” Casey breathed. “My sister will be waiting. I would stay here all day with you if I could, Fergus, but that’s not fair to my sister.”

  “No! Not yet.” Fergus tightened his grasp on her hand.

  “I have to go,” she whispered. “I wish I could see you again, but like I said, we leave tonight.”

  “Stay,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips again. “Please dinna go.”

  Tears slipped down her face, and Fergus cursed himself. The lass had enough grief with which to contend, but he needed more time to think on how he could help. He needed more time with her.

  “Ye said ye are staying in Inverness? Perhaps I can drive back wi’ ye and visit wi’ ye till ye leave.”

  “Really?” she asked, a smile breaking out over her face again. “That would be great! I’m sure my sister wouldn’t be thrilled, but you would only have to deal with her till we get to the hotel. Then she can go do what she wants.”

  “I promised ye I would try to help with yer sister. The task is much harder than I thought, but I havena given up.”

  “You should. But yes, come to Inverness with me. I’m guessing you don’t have a car here either.”

  “More’s the pity, I dinna have a car.”

  Casey tugged at his hand and rose. He released her.

  “How did you get here then?”

  “Weel, I have been here a spell.”

  She shook her head but smiled.

  “You are the strangest man.”

  “Ye mean that in a good way, I trust.”

  “In the best way.”

  Fergus took possession of Casey’s hand again, and they walked out to the car park. He allowed her to guide them toward her car. She stopped and searched the area.

  “Oh my gosh, the car is gone. She actually took the car and abandoned me here.”

  Fergus heard no tears but anger in Casey’s voice as she dug about in her bag. She withdrew a mobile device such as he had seen many visitors using, and she pressed buttons.

  “Where are you?” she demanded. Fergus was pleased to see a return of her anger. Her grief hurt him.

  “What do you mean ‘on the way back to Inverness?’ How am I supposed to get back?”

  Her eyes sparkled with anger.

  “Turn around and come back and get me!”

  Fergus awaited Sarah’s response.

  “He doesn’t have a car!” Casey said into the device.

  Fergus expelled a sigh of frustration at her words. He wasna much help at all.

  “I don’t care what you think about him. You can’t do this to me!”

  Fergus feared that Sarah had truly abandoned her sister.

  Casey pulled the mobile device from her ear and stared at it.

  “She hung up on me. Fergus! I don’t think she’s coming back for me!”

  “Auch, lass, I am ever so sorry. I wish I could help ye obtain transport to Inverness, but...” He didna wish to remind Casey that he was impoverished. For one mad moment, he contemplated asking Soni to help him get some money but suspected he aught save any future requests for urgent matters.

  “It’s fine. I’ll get a taxi. There are two right over there.” She pointed in the direction of two small silver cars with signs on their roofs.

  Fergus followed Casey toward the taxis. She pulled open one of the doors and turned to him.

  “Are you still coming?”

  “Do ye still want me to come, lass? I ken yer circumstances have changed in the past few minutes, and I didna ken if ye still wanted me to come wi’ ye or whether ye had done with me. It seems I have only made matters worse wi’ ye sister, no better.”

  Fergus prayed she would say yes. He wasna ready to say goodbye. He couldna.

  “Yes, of course I want you to come,” she said. “And don’t worry about getting back to...wherever it is that you live. I’ll send you back in a taxi before we leave for the airport.”

  She climbed into the vehicle, and Fergus paused. He wasna happy to hear she would send him hither and thither. Having a woman feed him was one thing, but depending upon her for transport was another—especially since he had thought to help her, no the other way. He was failing her, failing his part of the bargain with Soni.

  “I know how bad that sounds,” she said softly, reaching for his hand. “Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll say goodbye to you at the hotel? What you do after that is your business.”

  Fergus smiled. He was never going to abandon her at any rate, but the plea in her brown eyes and the feel of her skin against his left him no choice. He eyed the taxi with growing excitement. He had long dreamed of riding in such a vehicle.

  “Of course,” he said, sliding into the seat beside her.

  She gave the driver instructions, and the taxi began to move.

  “Fergus? What’s wrong? Are you all right?” she asked, peering into his face.

  Chapter Four

  Casey stared at her wild Scotsman. His grasp on her hand tightened painfully, and she noted that the knuckles of his other hand were white as he held on to the armrest.

  “Och, aye! I am right enough,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Did I guilt you into coming? I can stop the taxi if you want. I’ll take you back.”

  “Nooooo, lass. No. I want to accompany ye. I didna want to say goodbye just yet.”

  The moor flew by as the taxi sped down the road, and Fergus looked over his shoulder toward Culloden with wide eyes. He looked almost panicked.

  “Then tell me what’s wrong? Wait! Do you get carsick? Is that it?”

  “I dinna ken. Do I? Is that what I feel?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head and opened them again. His face, normally pale, was white.

  “Fergus?” she asked again, her face near his. “Are you all right?”

  “I am, lass. I am well. It is ye we must concern ourselves with, no me.”

  “So you don’t drive?”

  “Nay, I dinna drive a car. I have driven a wagon, but no car.”

  “You are the oddest man,” she said, her lips curving into a smile.

  “If it amuses ye and gives ye pleasure to think of me so, then I am pleased to be the ‘oddest man.’”

  “It gives me great pleasure,” she said. “If I go out tomorrow, I’ll go pretty happy, honestly.”

  “Go out where? Ye speak of when ye ge
t home?”

  “Oh, you know. It’s an expression. If I die tomorrow, I’ll die happy.”

  Fergus gritted his teeth.

  “Auch, lass, dinna say such things. There must be more joy to yer life than the meeting of one odd Highlander.”

  “Not really. I haven’t dated anyone since I found out I was sick. There wasn’t anyone serious anyway. I’ve just been working and puttering around.”

  Fergus looked as if he struggled to follow her words, and Casey wondered if he had hearing loss. She opted not to say anything though. She had highlighted his peculiarity enough, and while she adored his uniqueness, to continually harp on it would only push him away. For all she knew, Fergus was the quintessentially normal rural Scot. She hadn’t been in the country that long to consider herself an expert on Scottish men.

  “And ye have no man to see to ye,” he said.

  Casey smiled broadly, though again resisting the urge to tease Fergus on his old-fashioned sensibilities. He spoke in direct, stark terms, his words black and white.

  “No, I have no man.”

  “Weel, I am here for ye in whatever time we have left,” he said. “I only wish that I could help care for ye in yer coming struggles.”

  Casey’s heart stopped, then thudded.

  “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” she murmured. “I would live through this to be with you.”

  She caught her breath at the intensity of her words. Clearly, Fergus and his embellished speech were rubbing off on her. She hardly knew the man, but there was no time to waste—not in the few hours left to them before she flew away, not in a life, which was possibly foreshortened.

  Impulsively, she leaned in to kiss Fergus’s cheek. His red beard tickled her lips. He turned toward her, and with his free hand, guided her mouth toward his. His kiss, tentative and soft at first, hardened as he wrapped his fingers through her hair and held her to him.

  Casey broke free after a few moments to catch her breath.

  “This is so very strange, so unlike me,” she whispered, her cheeks red and warm

  Fergus pressed his forehead against hers, as if they could meld their thoughts together.

  “I canna say that I have kissed a lass within hours of meeting her afore either, but ye tug at my heart, at my soul.” He raised his head to meet her eyes.

  She smiled softly and scrunched her nose.

  “I think I’ve made you feel sorry for me, Fergus. I wonder if you would feel the same if you had met plain ole me a year ago.”

  “It isna pity that I feel for ye, lass. Perhaps it is the urgency of the moment. We will never ken how we would feel about each other if ye werena ill or if we had more time together than this one day. If I had more time on this living earth.”

  “I felt an instant connection to you, an immediate bond,” she said.

  “And I to ye, mo chridhe.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him.

  She laid her head upon his chest. His heart beat loudly against her ear.

  “What does that mean?”

  “My heart.”

  “Mo chridhe,” she repeated softly. She lifted her head. “What do you mean...if you had more time on this living earth? I predict a long life for you.”

  “Yer prediction would be wrong, lass.”

  “What do you mean? Are you sick?” She straightened and stared at him. His face was pale, but not unhealthily so. He ate like a horse. His body was sturdy, muscled, robust.

  Fergus looked up at the driver and shook his head.

  “It isna the time to speak of such things.”

  Casey followed his eyes toward the driver, who seemed unconcerned about their conversation.

  “What is it, Fergus? We can’t both be sick. That would be too much of a coincidence, too odd even for the strangeness that surrounds us.”

  “When we have a private moment, I will tell ye all, lass. For now, let us hold one another and enjoy these few precious moments together. We found each other a bit late, but no too late.”

  Casey could do nothing but bury herself in Fergus’s arms again. He wasn’t going to explain his cryptic remarks, and she didn’t want to waste time pressuring him.

  They held on to each other tightly until the taxi arrived at the hotel. Casey dreaded the coming encounter with her sister. She paid the driver and turned to look at the River Ness, just across the road from the hotel.

  “My sister will probably be in the room. I don’t want to see her yet. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want her to see you, to spoil our time together. Come—let’s walk along the river.”

  “If it please ye, I am happy to do so,” Fergus said. He took her hand and started out across the street.

  “Wait, Fergus! Wait! We have to wait for the cars to pass!” Casey exclaimed, pulling him back from the wheels of a passing car. Always considered overly cautious by her friends and family, Casey knew she hadn’t overreacted to Fergus’s recklessness.

  “Auch, aye! Of course. I didna ken Inverness had grown so large over the years. And see the river?” He pointed. “They have put a metal fence alongside it! Will ye look at that?”

  “Probably for safety and erosion control, I would think,” Casey murmured. She saw an opening and pulled at Fergus’s hand as they trotted across. She didn’t miss some of the looks drivers and passersby threw them...well, at Fergus anyway. Away from Culloden, Fergus’s voluminous great kilt, rowdy red hair and beard were all the more distinctive. He looked like some Jacobite Highland warrior on his way to the battlefield.

  She loved it! Never in her plain life had she ever met such a vibrant, handsome character. Every woman should go to Scotland and fall in love with a Highlander in the space of a single day, a moment. The sensation was exhilarating!

  They stopped on the sidewalk by the fence at the edge of the river. Inverness was beautiful from that vantage point. The Victorian-era Inverness Castle hovered over the city, glowing rosy gold in the afternoon sun. Exquisite centuries-old brick and stone buildings flanked both sides of the river. Gothic church steeples and spires pointed heavenward. Several bridges spanned the river, ensuring that Inverness flourished on both banks. A few sculls glided down the river, the rowers dipping their oars into the water while seagulls alternately swam alongside or screeched overhead.

  Caught up in the historic beauty of the city and the pressure of her imminent departure, Casey blurted out what was uppermost in her mind, holding nothing back.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you, Fergus, and I never will again. You are so wild and untamed—I don’t even know how you could actually see me. I’m so ordinary. I was just thinking...there’s no way cancer cells can survive the blood flowing in my body right now. They would surely drown in the flood.”

  Casey blinked at the absurdity of her melodramatic comments. Fergus, instead of laughing at her, pulled her into his embrace and kissed her again. He lifted his head to speak in a husky voice.

  “I would breathe good health into ye if I could, lass. If my kiss made ye well, I would kiss ye for days, months, years.”

  Casey’s knees weakened at his words. “Well, no matter what, I wouldn’t trade these minutes with you for anything in the world,” she whispered.

  Fergus kissed the top of her head.

  “Now, what about you? Are you ill?” she asked, leaning back to study his face.

  “No ill, lass. I didna wish to burden ye with more worries than already trouble ye, but I suppose ye need to know about me. Ye are no ordinary woman to me. I have been sent here to this earthly time to do a brave deed, an heroic act. I thought at first that if I were to bring ye and yer sister together, to mend the rift between ye, that I would have done my deed and moved on to wherever I must go. But I soon realized that such a small thing, even could I have managed such a task—which I failed, truth be told—was no true act of bravery.

  “I begged to be able to accompany ye to yer home to see to ye during yer illness. Soni denied me, but no wi’oot sympathy. She isna an unkind lass.
But she said she canna give me that time, and I believe her. It falls to me to seek out another brave deed, and I am at a loss. I have only a little time left, and all I can do is think on ye.”

  He kissed her forehead and held her close.

  “Who is Soni? And where are you going, Fergus?” Casey spoke against his chest. “Why do you have ‘only a little time left?’ I don’t know what you mean by a ‘brave deed.’ Or that you’ve been sent to this ‘earthly time.’”

  Casey tried to remember some of the other odd things Fergus had said, but there were actually too many to recall. He was a very mystical sort of guy, mysterious, and she loved that about him. His forthright compassion bathed her in its warmth, and his uninhibited speech coupled with his thick Scottish burr and dialect only added to his mystique.

  She lifted her head to look at him.

  “Ah, lass. I ken I must be more direct wi’ ye, but I fear your shock. I am a ghostie, dear. I fought with my kinsmen from the Atholl Brigade at Culloden in 1746. Soni is a wee witch who has found a way to grant seventy-nine of us our boon. Most of my brethren seek an audience with Prince Charles Stewart—or mayhap I should say they seek retribution for leaving us on the battlefield. I am no so angry with him as some of the other lads though. It was my own decision to join my kinsmen.”

  He paused and looked down into her stunned face.

  “I ken ye have questions, lass, but let me finish. I have wanted to tell ye ever since I met ye. Life after death is no so fearsome as it is tedious. Soni has promised that if each of my fellow ghosties and I perform a brave deed, an heroic act, we may then receive our reward and move on to whatever comes next after death. For myself, I only wanted to die in truth, to find reprieve from wandering about the moor. I wanted oblivion. Then I met ye. And I no longer ken what I want. I want to help ye, I want to be with ye, but I am a ghost. Naethin will change that. I dinna ken how much time I have left, but Soni granted me only two days, until midnight tomorrow.”

  Casey listened to Fergus’s insane murmurings, wondering if Sarah watched them from their hotel bedroom window. If the beautiful psychotic Scotsman was about to toss her into the river, Casey hoped Sarah could sprint across the river in time to fish her out. She really wasn’t ready to die, not from disease and not from the ramblings of a charming man.

 

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