Love on Loch Ness (12 page)

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Authors: Aubrie Dionne

BOOK: Love on Loch Ness
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Somehow, he was missing her biggest point. "How can you let this carry on with the two of us?"

Flynn sighed like the world weighed on his shoulders. "Tabitha is my younger sister, Gail."

His words froze her anger and sunk in her stomach. Confusion, followed by embarrassment, trickled through her. "Your sister?"

Flynn nodded. "Ten years younger than me."

Gail processed the full ramifications of the truth.
Flynn doesn't belong to someone else. He isn't a scoundrel, he's a saint to spend so much time comforting a teenager on the phone.
"For Pete's sake. Why haven't you mentioned her before?"

"It's hard for me to talk about her." Flynn glanced at his phone as though his sister was still there. His finger caressed the screen. "She's sick, Gail. Really sick."

Gail's heart seized like he'd grabbed it in his fist. Here she was reaming him out, and he'd been on the phone with his sick sister. "What's wrong?"

"She has an inoperable tumor in her brain. When the doctors first discovered the growth, they thought it was benign. But over the last year, the tumor has been growing, pressing on her optic nerves. She gets awful headaches and passes out. They say she'll lose her eyesight first, then most likely die of seizures within six months."

"That's awful."
Talk about cold, hard facts.
"Is there nothing that can be done?"

"We've seen so many specialists. They all say the same thing. If they take the tumor out, they take out a major part of her brain along with it. She'd be alive, but she'd be a vegetable or at most, only a shadow of who she is today. We've tried several rounds of chemo, and now she's on some experimental drug treatment therapy, but the doctors have pretty much told us not to keep our fingers crossed."

It was so horrible. Gail couldn't wrap her mind around it. "I'm so sorry."

"That's why I need to find Nessie soon." Desperation showed in Flynn's eyes. "You see, she's spent her life looking for Nessie along with me. I want to give her something to look forward to, some sort of hope that dreams can come true before…" He swallowed. "Before it's too late."

Gail sat beside him on his bed and draped her arm around his shoulders. He took her hand and squeezed. Flynn's vulnerability and his cause for his sister made him the most heartfelt man she'd ever met. She'd never felt so strongly for someone.

"Can I stay here with you tonight? Just to sleep and be together, not…."

Flynn turned his face to her and smiled for the first time since he'd taken the call. "Absolutely."

They lay down and held each other. Flynn's proximity soothed Gail's pain. She rested her head on his shoulder and curled up to him as he lay on his back. His fingers played with her hair and stroked her back as his breathing slowed to a deep sleep.

For the first time, Gail hoped she was wrong about Nessie. For Tabitha's sake, she wanted Flynn to be right.

****

"By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes."
Clink.

Gail peered through misty morning light, then closed her eyes and curled her arm around Flynn's.

"Where the sun shines bricht on Loch Lomon'."
Clank.

What the?
She buried her head under her side of the pillow.

"Where me and me true love were ever wont to gae."
Clunky clunk.

A vague memory of an old, furry man rose up, and she pushed it away. Her dream mingled with Flynn's spicy scent was much more sweet.

"On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'." Dishes clattered as if someone had turned the cupboards upside down and emptied them on the floor.

Fully awake, Gail rose from Flynn's arms. "Oh no. We've left Blarney alone for too long."

Flynn pulled her back down and snuggled against her. "Let him be. Let's just sleep for a little while longer."

An explosion of silverware bouncing on the floor reverberated throughout the cabin.

Both Gail and Flynn shot up. Flynn rubbed his eyes. "On second thought, let's get down there."

Gail smoothed her wrinkled shirt, trying to look somewhat presentable. Would Tom notice she'd worn the same outfit yesterday? He wasn't the most observant man, especially for a videographer.
Probably not
.

Twisting her hair into a bun, she followed Flynn down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Wearing a woman's tattered pink apron, Blarney stood at the stove. A gigantic pot of steaming liquid gurgled on the burner. Cutting boards green with herbs, knives, and forks were strewn all over the countertop. Tom sat at the table with a napkin stuffed down the front of his shirt.

"Looks like someone had a good night." Tom gave Flynn a wicked grin, and Gail thought she'd shrivel up with embarrassment. He had noticed the shirt. That, or she'd left her bedroom door open.

Flynn walked over to Blarney. "What are you making?"

"Rabbit stew." Blarney brought the spoon from the simmering water and tasted. "Went a'hunting this morn. Caught a whitetail in ane of me traps."

Gail covered her mouth with her hand. She wasn't a vegetarian or anything but still, the thought of Blarney slaughtering a bunny rabbit for their breakfast made her stomach churn.

"Smells good." Flynn gave Gail a steady look. "We should all try some."

Gail bit her lip and sat down in the farthest seat from Tom. Blarney had set the table, and the dishes and silverware shone like new.
At least the old man knows how to clean them. Maybe he isn't all that crazy, after all.
Flynn was right; the stew did smell tasty, even if the broth was made with an animal that had been prancing outside their cabin a few hours ago.

Blarney served steaming bowls of broth with chunks of rabbit meat and floating herbs to everyone at the table.

Flynn took a seat next to her and picked up his spoon. "So, Gail, are you going to show Blarney your findings about the fish populations today?"

If it had been the night before, she would have rolled her eyes. But after hearing of his sister's condition and Flynn's quest to bring her one magical moment before she died, a sense of urgency overcame her. "Of course. Right after breakfast."

"Good." Flynn brought his spoon to his lips and sipped. "This is delicious, Blarney."

"A man daesna live in the woods for years and nae learn naething." Blarney grinned.

Tom had finished his bowl before Gail had even tried hers. "Flynn, let's go out and get some more footage while Gail and Blarney confer. I'm itching to get some shots of Urquhart Castle and the water surrounding it."

Flynn gave Gail a questioning look.

Gail tried a spoonful of Blarney's stew. Rich tastes danced on her tongue. Not only had the woodsman cleaned all the dishes from last night, but he'd gotten up early and made them all breakfast. The crazy old man had won her over, and she didn't mind spending the morning tracking Nessie's movements with him.

She gave Flynn a nod. "That's fine. We have a lot of work to do."

"All right." Flynn shrugged uneasily.

Gail touched his hand and whispered, "I'll be fine." They couldn't do everything together twenty-four seven. Although after the night before, there were things she wanted to explore with him.
We'll have our time. Right now we have to find Nessie.

Tom gagged and coughed across the table. "Keep it in your room, guys. Unless I can join in?"

Blarney pointed a finger at Tom. "Give them a brak, lad. The sweethearts are in luve."

"I've had enough of this." Tom wiped his mouth and stood. He pointed to Flynn. "Meet you at the dock. I've got to set up my equipment."

"Sure thing." Flynn saluted Tom as he left.

Blarney watched Tom leave with a skeptical twinkle in his eyes. "I'm tellin' ya, that man's got a black hert."

Gail stared at Blarney. It was the only time she'd ever heard him say anything bad about anyone. "Why do you say that?" Was it because Tom hadn't complimented him on the stew?

Blarney pursed his lips. "I can see it in his eyes."

"Wait a second here." Flynn put both hands up. "We all know Tom's got some manners to work on, but a black heart? Really? L-PIB hired Tom thinking he was the best man for the job. We should honor their decision."

Gail tilted her bowl to collect the last spoonful of stew. "How long has Tom been a videographer?"

Flynn raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, but he's been taking some great footage of the lake. Have you seen any of his footage yet?"

Gail shook her head. She'd been too wrapped up in her own studies to take a look. "No, but I'll take your word for it."

Flynn brought his bowl to the sink. "Great meal, Blarney. I'll get the dishes when I get back."

"No need, lad." Blarney clapped him on the back. "You go oot thare and find me somethin' good, eh?"

Flynn smiled. "I will."

As he left, he bent down and kissed Gail on the cheek.

Excitement rose up inside her. The entire side of her face burned with heat. She couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed her good-bye.

Flynn whispered in her ear, "See you later, Nessiegator."

It was the most ridiculous pet name anyone had ever called her, but it made her melt into her chair. Gail had fallen hard, not only for Flynn but also for his purpose, and there was no chance she was getting back up anytime soon.

Chapter Sixteen

Evidence

"Here's a chart of the life cycle of the brown trout." Gail pointed to a picture with three fish swimming side by side. "Late summer, just about now, the young trout have grown to a substantial size. They frequent the shallow waters where the oxygen concentration is the highest to pick insects off the surface."

"And whit of them?" Blarney sipped a mug of tea made with leaves and herbs he'd collected form the forest floor after breakfast. He'd offered Gail a cup, but she'd politely declined.

"They are one of the species that drops in population corresponding to Nessie sightings." Gail opened a map of Loch Ness and pointed to the places where she thought the population would thrive. "I would guess they'd be found along this bank, in this shallow area, and right here in front of Urquhart Castle."

"Nah. Nessie's already bin thare, thare, and thare." Blarney leaned over, chewing on his lower lip. "What aboot pike? I've haurd fisherman talk of drops in thair population as weel."

"Pike favor rich, submersible vegetation because they are ambush predators." Gail's fingers tapped on the map, glad to finally make use of her specialty. "Just like you said, their populations decline during the same time. They migrate during spawning season in the spring, so I'd say right around now the population would be the highest."

Interest sparked in Blarney's sharp yes. "Whare'd they be?"

Gail traced the line of the Northern shore. "I'd say over here, where the trees hang over the water and the leaves fall directly into the shallow areas."

"Interestin'." Blarney held up a pencil and circled a few spots on the map. "I've seen traces of Nessie here and here, but nae here." His gaze met hers. "Nae this year. Nae yet, at least."

"Then that's where we would set up a stakeout." Gail dismissed her doubts about it all being hogwash. Flynn needed her to find Nessie, and that was what she'd do.

Gail folded the map and stuck it in her pocket. "Let's check it out in the daylight. That way we'll be able to find a path better in the evening."

"Guid idea, lass." Blarney placed his mug on the coffee table with a final chink.

"Let's go." Gail shoved two water bottles and a handful of granola bars into her backpack.

"Why gae brakin' yer back haulin' that whan you can fend susteenance from the land?" Blarney stuck his arms into his camouflage jacket and topped the look with his raccoon-furred hat.

Gail gave him a wary look and hefted the pack on her back. "I'll take my chances."

They set off for a clearing across the lake. She estimated it would take half the day to reach the spot where the pike swarmed and get back. They'd certainly get back before Flynn and Tom. Still, she'd left a note saying where she and Blarney headed. With Loch Ness monsters running around, she could never be too careful.

And to think, when I first got here I thought the only beasts I'd see were those mountains.
Now she checked over her shoulder with every bird caw or fluttery leaf, expecting Nessie to jump out at her.

Blarney took the lead, crossing the forest floor with stealth and elegance. He knew exactly where to place each step and leave the fallen branches undisturbed, all the while keeping his boots dry. Gail stumbled after him like a football player in a crystal shop, already muddied up to her shins. The old man was such a paradox — well-mannered yet wild, intelligent yet incoherent at times, eccentric yet seemingly right on top of things.

Gail pushed a branch out of her way, thinking it would be a great time to get to know him better and get more pieces to the puzzle. "So how did your mom come up with the name Blarney?"

Blarney turned back and flashed a grin. "She daedna. It's a nickname my shipmates uised to call me. I spake of Nessie all the time, and thay thoucht it was a bunch of hooey."

Gail nodded, using the lull in the pace to catch up. Made sense. One of the definitions of blarney was deceptive or misleading talk.

"Me birth name is Barnabas McCleary the Third. Raither a haughty name for someone so raggitie, eh?"

"I think it's a nice name." If he'd introduced himself with his proper name, maybe she wouldn't have thought him so crazy in the first place.

"Gah!" He waved his hand. "Too hie and michty for me."

Gail misjudged the incline of the path and stumbled forward. She caught herself on a branch, the rough bark cutting into her palms.

"Watch yer step, lassie." Blarney came over.

"I'm fine." She tried to right herself, but the fall had taken the wind out of her. Her hands shook as she remembered the trek she'd taken with her father in the White Mountains and how she'd fallen again and again before he'd taken her hand.

Why was she thinking of that day now?

Finding Nessie was so different than finding Bigfoot. For one, there was hard evidence in the sonar calls, the tooth, the fin imprint in the sand, and the scale. Way more evidence than the muddy holes in the ground her father had claimed were tracks. Two, she was an adult now and able to come to her own conclusions. This trek was way different than her father's Bigfoot hike.

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