Read His Lass Wears Tartan Online
Authors: Kathleen Shaputis
After blowing her nose, Baillie picked up one of the cloths and she, too, drenched it in the hot water to help cleanse the body. Putney hummed something Celtic, but the splash in the bucket, rinsing the cloths, was the only other sound. Rogue took a place at the end of the table. After staring for moments, she began removing his muddy boots.
Bruce’s ghost stood next to Kai, both silently watching the women, not sure how to feel seeing himself on the table, being prepared for burial.
• • •
Gillian nudged Rafael to get her attention then he and the girls moved quietly out of the room. “This is too much like
Snow White
. I can’t just stand and watch. We need to find Lady Nell.” Nodding heads answered back.
They found her inside the darkened library with the candles lit and curtains drawn. The woman sat in the same high-back chair, her eyes closed, deep in meditation. In front of her, a rod of incense sat smoldering in the middle of a circle of gemstones and crystals on the table they’d used for the séance. A sweet aroma filled the air. The stones reflected the flickering candlelight, an unnatural beauty, mesmerizing in the dark room.
“I feel like one of the seven dwarves in the diamond mine,” T-Cup whispered.
“I always figured you for the one on the end,” Gillian responded. “Now move.”
Gillian and the girls slowly made their way to nearby chairs and clasped hands together, with Gillian and T-Cup stretching out their other hands to Lady Nell. She silently enclosed theirs inside of hers without any other movement, and immediately an electric heat surged through their arms. Their eyes widened at the intensity of the burn. T-Cup squirmed in her chair but spoke not a word, biting down on her lips to keep silent.
Beads of sweat broke out on Lady Nell’s reddened forehead, and Gillian could feel dampness under his arms and down his back. Had she opened up the fires of Hades? A shiver followed the thought, and the girls glued their eyes to him. He forced his closed in fear of sharing a veil of fear with the others. Lady Nell’s practical sorceress skills seemed to include more than just psychic ability—like dark magic.
Minutes ticked by and the heat never wavered in intensity. The circle participants were drenched in sweat, the girls nodding, their heads limp on their necks from utter exhaustion.
“The time is now, Bruce. Rogue cradles your head in the other room. And when her ninth tear falls on your cheek, she will lean down and kiss you.” Lady Nell’s voice sounded sinister and vibrating. You’ll have less than a wink to grab the chance of living again. Know what you want in life and be ready. The door will not open again.”
• • •
Bruce counted the teardrops from Rogue’s tortured sobs as she cradled him in her arms. Helpless, he wanted to comfort her but concentrated on his task. What if she didn’t kiss him? What if she waited until the twelfth tear? He wanted his life back; he wanted Rogue in his arms. Seven... he refused to be dead. Eight, nine ...
Rogue tenderly leaned her head down like a scene from a movie and softly pressed her tear-damp lips on his cool, chapped ones. As soon as the connection was made, the body on the table trembled and Bruce inhaled a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering quickly in the bright room. A shrill, glass-shattering scream left Rogue before she fainted to the floor and, like dominos, so did Putney and everyone in the library.
“She did it, didn’t she?” Baillie mumbled into Kai’s chest. “I can’t believe she brought him back.”
“Turn around, my Annie. Bruce needs your help. I canna reach him anymore.” Kai moved her away from him and pointed her back toward the table.
Maneuvering around the fainted bodies on the floor, Baillie grabbed Bruce’s hand and relief spread through her quickly at a rewarding, weak squeeze. “Welcome back, Bruce. Don’t try moving just yet. You’re using up strength just breathing right now.” She leaned a little closer to his battered face. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He jerked his head in a slight nod.
“I’m right here next to you, but I have to take care of uh, another little matter close by.” She bent down on her knees. “Rogue, sweetie, wake up.” She patted the soft, pale face.
Next to the limp Rogue, Putney stirred with a low moan. “What happened?” Her eyes flew open. “What am I doing on the floor? How did I get here?” She struggled to get her feet under her.
“Kai, would you help Putney, please? I’m still trying to rouse our girl.”
Putney’s hand lifted into the air without her help, and Kai’s strong invisible support held around her waist as her body rose up from the floor. Once on her feet, she mopped her forehead with her apron “Whew, now that was something.” She looked over at the table and nearly dropped back to the ground. Kai grabbed her, holding her up as she stared at the living, breathing Bruce on top of their table. “How? It’s not possible. His eyes are open. I can’t believe it.”
“Rogue, c’mon, you can wake up.” Baillie’s eyebrows knitted in concern.
At the kitchen doorway, a motley crew damp and weary shuffled into the room. Gillian and Rafael each held on to Lady Nell’s sides, helping her move closer to Bruce. T-Cup seemed barely able to keep herself erect as she slid into the first empty chair she could find.
Bruce twitched, and Baillie stood up to see fear in his eyes. “Who, who are you?” His voice croaked with dryness.
“Shh,” Baillie started. “These odd, wet strangers to you are friends of mine who came to help us. And the incredible woman placing her ringed hands on your chest right now is Lady Nell, the amazing witch who brought you back to us.”
Baillie put her hand on Bruce’s shoulder as Lady Nell closed her eyes, and where her hands rested, he saw a glowing warmth, a soothing brightness on his chest. His breaths came out in pants as his face flushed bright red.
“Namaste, Bruce,” Lady Nell said. “There is much love in this room for you. Never take it for granted, young one.” She turned back to Gillian. “Please find me a chair. If I slump to the floor, it will take a miracle to get me up again.”
At the loud scrunch of the chair legs going across the floor, Bruce heard Rogue finally scramble around under the table. “What happened?”
“A miracle, sweetie, a bloody sweet, wonderful miracle,” Baillie answered.
• • •
The next day, after a long night of rest and recuperation, the girls refused to leave their beds, and the rest of the group met in the kitchen. Rogue felt drained herself, yet a warm cape of contentment kept her steady.
Hanging up the phone, Baillie turned to those at the table. “I contacted the investigator and let him know about the delivery truck and our suspicions about Jonathan. Seems the guy has about lost his mind, blubbering about a black devil after him. However, they said in his babbling, he’s admitted quite a few times to killing the professor and Beatrice, though it may take time before they get the actual facts from him.
“Explaining about finding an unconscious Bruce near the cliffs was a little more difficult, but they bought it. We’re in the clear in that respect. Looks like Jonathan will be staying in Scotland behind bars for a long, long time.”
Rogue leaned against Bruce’s shoulder. His warmth and clean scent made her dizzy for a moment. “Thank you, Auntie, for taking care of criminal stuff. You have such a great way of handling those guys. We thought about Bruce and me going down for a surprise visit to Jonathan, maybe force an admission out of him.”
“Now we won’t get to see his shocked face when he finds out I’m alive.” He raised his hands palm up, and Rogue jumped. “Ya still a little spooked, lassie.”
“The newspaper reporters will be nosing around for a while, but no bother. We know how to deal with the likes of them.” Putney poured tea for Robbie and then herself. “Ya did good, my Robbie. I’m proud of ya, I am.”
“Woman, your pride is thin support for these old bones. I don’t think I can take much more excitement with these people.” He winked at Gillian across the table.
“Huzzah, my good man.” Gillian raised his own cup. “And one to my favorite sorceress here in the kitchen.” He threw a brilliant smile at the woman. The rest of the room burst into applause until she dropped her head.
“Since you’re all in a good mood, any chance I can move in?” Lady Nell twinkled at the end of the table, soaking in the comraderies around the room. “Is there a guest cottage in the pasture? Any little spot will do. I am in love with this place.”
“Hmm, a resident witch in a haunted castle. My goodness, wouldn’t we be too popular?” Rogue laughed. “I could go nuts writing up articles for our website. Ooh, we could have our own Renaissance faire during the summer. Seriously, I think this would be a great idea. Aunt Baillie, you have to talk her into moving here.”
She stared into Bruce’s eyes as he tilted his head toward the door. “We are going to leave you all and uh, take a walk around the grounds.” Rogue and Bruce pushed their chairs back and wrapped their arms around each other.
“Say hi to Dougal for me,” Baillie called out.
The warm sunshine felt delicious as they walked hand in hand. Rogue squeezed his arm with her other hand. She couldn’t touch him enough, ensuring he was alive. “You’re sure you feel okay? No residual ghostly thoughts or flashbacks?”
He shook his head. “It’s only been one night, but so far, so good. How did you sleep?”
“I can’t really say. I was gone before my head hit the pillow. My whole body felt drained of anything resembling energy, zip, zilch, gone. I can see why the girls are still snug in their beds.”
Bruce choked on a cough. “Yes, the girls. I know you’d talked about Rafael and T-Cup before, but it doesn’t prepare you for meeting them in person. Not one bit.” He scratched the back of his head. “They are like Ferraris stuck in first gear, totally wound up with sparkle and loud.”
She skipped a few steps. “I just love them. And I can’t wait until you get to see them perform. They put on a mind-blowing show, and their wigs and sequins are to die for.” Her eyes widened. “Oops, sorry, slip of the tongue.”
Stopping under a tree, Bruce leaned in and kissed her softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He kissed her again, this time with more unleashed fervor.
Rogue pulled away gently. “I thought I’d lost ya before I could ever tell you my feelings.”
He grinned. “And what are those feelings, my lassie?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” She tapped a finger on her chin. Her eyes stared directly into his. “I feel comfortable with you.”
“Ah, like a pair of your favorite boots, huh? That’s real sexy.”
She nestled her arm into his and started heading toward the stables. “I love my boots. Oh, that’s right, and I love you.”
She let out a squeak as Bruce swept her up in his arms and carried her into the stables. He came to a sudden stop just inside the door. The wood frame around the doorway into her old sleeping room was shattered, wood slats broken, jagged. Rogue pushed against his chest until he let her feet touch the ground.
“What the hell happened?” he whispered. “Who did this?”
“I, uh, haven’t had a chance to explain to ya what all went on with Jonathan, landing him in jail and all.”
Bruce clenched his hands into fists. Rogue was afraid he wasn’t breathing. “Did he hurt you?” he shouted.
“Bruce, no, he ...”
“Did that jerk touch you in any way? Be honest, because I’m going to go down there and kill him myself. I owe him one.” He picked up a broken piece and threw it inside the little room.
“Listen, listen to me, shh, he came in here and thought he was going to be all macho like and force me to like him. Well, Dougal took care of him right smartly.” She ran her hand over the jagged hole. “See this? I’m thinking it was the last thing Jonathan saw of the castle. My giant, black hero going for blood. Dougal almost killed him. But nothing happened to me, really. Well, except a bump on my head.”
Bruce moved to Dougal’s stall, and the horse nudged his damp nose against his face. “I owe you my heart, ya bloody devil.” He reached up and rubbed his hand against Dougal’s nose.
“Hey,” Rogue scrambled to change the subject. “Come see Scotlynn and the baby.”
Dougal let out a loud snort as the two moved down to the last enclosure. Inside, Scotlynn stood against the back wall, and next to her stood a miniature Dougal nursing as if his life depended on it.
“Look at him, what a brute.” He moved his arm around Rogue and pulled her close. “This is amazing. And she looks so content.”
“Aye, she is, despite his wildness.” Rogue looked to her side and, breaking out of his arm, moved a bale of hay closer to the fence. She patted the straw as she sat down. “I love watching them together. I will be letting them out in the pasture soon. Once we get past Aunt Baillie’s wedding and all.” She snuggled next to Bruce, laying her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Uh, can I ask a question?” Bruce put his head on hers. “How will she be marrying a ghost?”
“They’re having a handfast ceremony, just the immediate group of us attending. They’re going to have it on the summer solstice.”
A quietness enveloped the contented couple except for the soft noises of the horses moving positions. Rogue couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment. Sitting next to Bruce, the young foal in front of them, was like déjà vu of watching the birth together.
“Rogue?”
“Hmm?”
He moved just a little, bringing their heads up, and turned his body facing her. She noticed his pupils were enlarged and focused, a determination stilled his face. He looked so serious. “What is it, Bruce? You’re starting to worry me.”
He shook his head. “That’s not my intention. I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but it seems a lifetime ago since I first saw you. And if anything, we learned that tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us. There is just today, and I don’t want to waste another minute of my life without you.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and brought out something small and shiny in his fingers. His other hand took her left one and held it up a bit. “This has been a fairy tale for me, Rogue, and I believe after the princess awakens, she gets married to her true love. Well, the happy ending goes both ways, when the prince wakes up.”