MacGowan's Ghost (15 page)

At night, before he went to bed, Jake would ask Allie to tell him a story. That, of course, was a cover for his grandmother's benefit. What Jake really wanted to know and asked all sorts of questions about was
death
.

Particularly about her own personal experience with her father.

Allie didn't want to pry and ask things of Jake she knew might upset Gabe. And God knew Gabe himself was experiencing something awful, and apparently almost every night of his life. The night they kissed? Just before that he'd been in a terrible state, eyes wide, nostrils flared—it had been all Allie could do to get him to come back to the present.

Jake had told her of the dreams Gabe had, and she'd assumed that was what had happened that night. She wondered what they were. Obviously, they were pretty horrific to shake Gabe up so badly. Jake had mentioned they were of his dead mother. She wondered if he was right.

Either way, it troubled the little guy. Troubled the hell out of the big guy, too, but he'd left soon after. Allie had a feeling Gabe would clam up tight if she ever brought it up.

She'd have to let him come to her.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Allie inspected herself in the mirror. She considered her appearance. The ceilidh was a casual dance, so she'd chosen a pair of dark jeans, a gauzy white long-sleeved button-up blouse, a black leather jacket, and black boots. Adding just a touch of makeup, because makeup usually made her break out, some lip gloss, and a small squirt of vanilla, she admitted to herself that she was hoping beyond hopes Gabe MacGowan would make it back in time.

And that he wouldn't ignore her.

She dug in her bag, found a silver clip, and pulled part of her hair back to the nape of her neck and secured it. Cut in layers and parted in the middle, her boingy curls sprang whichever way they wanted. Luckily the long bangs in the front stayed out of her eyes.

“You look adorable as always, love,” said Dauber, perched behind her on the chest. “Are you ready?”

Allie turned and smiled. “Thanks, and yes. Let's go.”

Outside, the sun hung low in the sky, the tide was high, and the wind minimal. The crisp air brushed Allie's cheeks, and she inhaled the ever-present brine of the sea. She found she rather liked that scent. It reminded her of Maine, and her mom's B and B.

Music wafted uphill from the wharf, and from the outside of Odin's Thumb Allie could see a large bonfire. As she and Dauber strolled down the sidewalk, laughter reached her ears.

“Sounds like a lovely time down there, don't you think?” Dauber said. “I wonder if Gabe MacGowan will make it back before it's too late.”

Allie glanced at him, the fading light sifting through his already transparent self. “Too late for what?”

His grin dug deep into his cheeks. “Why, before the other lads in the village snatch you up.”

Allie shook her head and grinned. “You're crazy, Alexander Dauber.” But she loved the old soul as if he were her own father. “Come on.”

Down at the wharf, the entire village and surrounding crofts had turned out for the get-together. Long tables with lanterns and chairs were set up on the perimeter, with a wide square area on the higher bank lit by a string of twinkling lights stretched between four poles. A few people danced to a small band of musicians. Allie remembered Leona saying her husband played the fiddle. She'd make it a point to meet him later.

As they drew closer, Allie caught sight of Wee Mary, sitting at a table with both Lords Ramsey and Killigrew. Walking over, she placed her hand on Mary's shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Wee Mary glanced up and gave her a wide smile. “Och, good as new, love. You and Dauber have a seat and join me and this fresh lot of boys.”

Once again, Allie considered the fact that Sealladh na Mara was haunted, and the people of the town completely accepted it. It fascinated and bewildered her at the same time. She wondered if the small coastal village had a reputation throughout Scotland.

Dauber eased into a chair. Allie sat next to Mary, grinned at Christopher and Baden, and lifted a brow. “Have you two no shame?”

Wee Mary giggled. “They've none, I'll say. Flirting with an invalid. Tsk.”

Baden Killigrew barked out a laugh. “Invalid, me arse.” He smiled at Allie and leaned forward, and she thought just how handsome the ghostly lord was. “I've been trying to coax her into a wee slow dance, but she continues to say my nay.”

Wee Mary blushed.

Allie glanced around. “Where's Jake?”

Christopher Ramsey inclined his head. “Just there, at the water's edge with the friar and Justin.”

Allie watched the boy as he interacted with Drew Digby and Justin Catesby. Other than Drew being slightly transparent, and wearing a fourteenth-century woolen cowl, and Justin in his usual sea captain's gear, they seemed perfectly normal together with the boy. Jake would stop, look up at Drew and Justin, and pay close attention to whatever it was they were telling him, and then Jake would drop to his knees, fish around in the water, and lift something up and show it with excitement.

“You know, that used to be young Gabe,” Wee Mary said. “All excited and busy, not noticin' that his best mates were spirited souls who'd lost their earthly flesh.”

Allie glanced at Gabe's aunt.

Mary gave a winsome smile and sighed. “That boy—Gabe, I mean—would trail after Justin”—she inclined her head to Baden and Christopher—“and these two, as well, askin' question after question, beggin' for stories of the high seas. Which, of course, the scalawag did just that and with unabashed pride and joy.” She gave another winsome smile. “Justin would tell young Gabe stories at bedtime, would take him all about Sealladh na Mara, taught him many a nautical task, just by talkin' him through it.” She shook her head and glanced out over the loch. “Things certainly have changed.”

“Aye, no doubt Gabe would resort to fisticuffs with the lot of us, if we had substance,” said Baden. “Always seems to be at odds, he does.”

Mary met Allie's gaze dead-on. “For some reason, lass, I have a feeling deep in me bones you'll be the one to change him back.”

Baden and Christopher both nodded in agreement.

Allie studied Wee Mary. The smallest of lines fanned out from the corners of her eyes. “What makes you think I can change anything?”

Mary's smile touched her eyes. “Hope.”

Allie looked down at her feet, laced her fingers together, and glanced back up. Before she could utter a word, Wee Mary cocked her head and spoke.

“He's no' told you about Jake's mum, aye?”

Allie shook her head. “Not yet.”

A slight curve lifted one corner of Wee Mary's mouth. “When he does, and I do belive he will, you'll discover where Gabe's troubles lie.” She reached over and patted her hand. “Help my nephew, if you can. He's a good lad and deserves a bit o' peace in his life.”

Allie turned her gaze to Sealladh na Mara's sea loch and sighed. She sincerely hoped she could help Gabe MacGowan.

If only he'd let her . . .

Chapter 13

A
s the hour grew late, Allie couldn't help but glance out, away from the crowd, in hopes of seeing Gabe return. So far, he hadn't. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed.

She looked over at the dancers. That Baden Killigrew had finally convinced Wee Mary to honor him with a
wee slow one
, and in his defense he seemed to be making good and sure it was indeed slow and that Mary didn't overexert herself. They were doing some crazy-looking dance from Baden's time—a dance that could be pretty darn seducing if done properly. Of course, there could be no bodily contact, but in Lords Ramsey's and Killigrew's days, there couldn't be. So they moved in sync, circling each other, dipping one way and then the other, maintaining eye contact and nothing more.

She had a suspicion Baden knew just what he was doing.

Introductions had flowed all night. Leona and her husband, their seventeen-year-old twins, Alex and Aida, old Angus, once a longshoreman who, at eighty-three, spent his days, no matter how cold, in a straight-backed wooden chair on the small pier, whittling sail-boats out of chunks of oak. The epitome of Scotland, Allie thought, with a weathered face, wool sweater, and soft hat, complete with a pipe. He even had a faithful old dog that sat at his feet. Bones. The dog's name was
Bones.

As many people as Allie met at the ceilidh, not one single person mentioned Gabe's wife. Not one. Allie knew she'd died, but that was the extent of her knowledge. She'd asked Wee Mary, but the sweet older woman had simply shaken her head, saying 'twas Gabe's tale to tell, and that he wouldna like his business being told. Wee Mary's eyes had misted over, and Allie hadn't pushed the subject any more. Jake, the cute little guy, had never elaborated, and God knows Allie wouldn't ask. Maybe Gabe would eventually open up.

She wondered if he ever would.

As the song wound down, Baden and Wee Mary passed where Allie stood watching, grinned, and moved toward the tables. Another song kicked up, this one a bit livelier, and several couples hurried to find a spot.

“I see you've been waiting for me, lass,” said a deep voice.

Allie turned to find Captain Catesby, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Dance with me?” he asked, inclining his head in that direction. “If you think you can keep up?”

Allie grinned and nodded. “All right, big guy. Let's go.”

As they neared the dance floor, Justin bowed, indicating Allie step out. She did, and he joined her, standing close and staring down at her. She followed his moves, something from his time, she guessed, and although she didn't know the dance it was easy enough to keep up with Justin. Or so she thought.

The rogue smiled when she took a misstep, and leaned his head toward hers. “ 'Tis my sincerest regret, lady, that I am in such a flimsy and paltry state as to be completely unable to put my hands on you.” His grin widened. “To lead you properly, of course.”

“Hmm,” Allie said. “No doubt.”

He moved around her in a slow circle, keeping his gaze directly on hers. She smiled. “Are you flirting with me, Justin Catesby?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Is it working?”

Allie giggled and mimicked his circling. “Nay.”

He laughed, and abruptly changed directions, brushing so close to her that Allie felt a tingle at the spot they would have touched. Without much thought, she took her hand and swiped it through Justin's arm. Another tingling sensation, this time stronger. When she looked up, Justin was watching her closely.

“What does it feel like, lass?” he asked.

Allie, keeping in step, shrugged. “Sort of like when you've been sitting with your foot under your bottom for too long.”

Justin changed directions and nodded. “Aye, and it starts to prickle once you get up.” He grinned that cocky grin. “ 'Tis quite an intimate thing, the swiping of a mortal's limb through that of a spirit. Did you know that, lass?”

Allie turned, dipped, and narrowed her eyes. “You are flirting again, Catesby.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Again, is it working?”

Allie lifted a brow.

Justin laughed. “Then I shall strive harder to accomplish the feat.”

“Rogue.”

“Tease.”

They both laughed together.

Keeping in step, Allie cocked her head. “I just can't get over how the entire village of Sealladh na Mara accepts all of you. Do you ever think of how unique it is?”

Justin glanced away, shrugged, and then met her gaze. “Aye, and nay. When I visit other places, I do realize how fortunate we are here to have the entire village accept us. Of course,” he said, ducking his head and drawing close, “we've been here since their forefathers' forefathers were bairns. They've known us all of their lives.” He gave a winsome grin. “I remember the verra first time I stumbled up the cobbled path”—he inclined his head in that direction he spoke of—“just there a ways. I didna realize just yet that I had died. I simply thought I'd been lost at sea for a spell.” He glanced down at her and shrugged. “I stumbled right upon a MacGowan. I suppose 'twould be young Gabe's great-grandfather's great-grandfather. Or something o' that nature.”

Allie looked at him. “What was his name?”

“Luke. Luke MacGowan, and he was one big, ornery lad. He'd just anchored his fishin' boat and was makin' his way to Odin's when I sort of walked through him.” He shook his head. “We stared at each other for a long bloody time.” He met her gaze. “And then the bloody fool tried to take a swing at me. After that, it didna take long to become friends.”

Allie could see how that had happened. Justin was just about the most charming soul she'd ever encountered. She felt sure he could be stern if he had to, but his personality was so confident and easygoing, she just bet he was able to coerce his shipmates into following command without too much force.

She grinned. “And you met the friar not long after arriving here?”

Justin nodded. “Aye. We each knew what the other was the moment we clapped eyes on each other.” He waved a hand in the air. “Drew is an easy lad to get along with, so we, too, became fast friends. And 'twas nice enough to have a soul in the same . . . shape as myself. Aye?”

Allie nodded. “Definitely aye.”

The music wound down, and Justin gave Allie a low bow.

Just as a slow, haunting melody kicked up. Winsome and Celtic, it sounded as though it were snatched straight from the movie
Braveheart.