MacGowan's Ghost (28 page)

So involved in their kissing, they completely missed the heavy boots smashing up the trail.

“Damn me, but it looks like fine sport, that,” a deep voice said close by.

Gabe and Allie jumped, and for the third time since meeting, their heads clunked together whilst kissing.

A sign, Gabe thought.

He recognized the voice right away.

He opened his eyes and glanced down at Allie. She took it in stride, the getting caught. She grinned at Gabe, looked over his shoulder, her eyes widened, and she waved the cutest little wave he'd ever seen.

“Hi,” she said.

The voice spoke again. “Och, I should have known. An American. Do you need a hand, lad?”

Gabe shook his head, pushed up, and helped Allie stand. He turned around and looked his friend square in the eye.

That wasna exactly the truth. He did have to look up a wee bit.

He had a verra big friend.

Before he could make a move, his friend had pulled him into a fierce hug. He nearly squeezed the life out of him.

He thought he heard Allie giggle.

Finally, Gabe was set free. The big lad looked him over thoroughly, then slapped him on the shoulder.

Gabe nearly went flyin' over the bloody log.

“Bleedin' priests, man, 'tis good to see you.” His gaze drifted to Allie, lingered in appreciation, and he nodded. “Fetchin' lass, MacGowan.” He flashed Allie a big smile. “Where's your manners, lad? Introduce me.”

Gabe pulled Allie close. “Allie, this is Ethan Munro from across the loch. Ethan”—he inclined his head—“this is Allie Morgan.”

Ethan smiled, gave Allie a low bow, and came up grinning. “From America.” He took her hand and kissed the top of it. “My pleasure, lass.”

Gabe watched his Allie, and her eyes narrowed, just a bit. She could tell Ethan wasna
right
. She had a special perception with souls. With
all
souls. Of course she'd notice, but maybe no' right away. Ethan was dressed much like himself, but that long hair and the war braids at the temples might give a clue or two away.

He'd just have to wait and see.

“To the cottage, then?” Gabe said, and inclined his head.

And the three of them started off back through the forest.

 

Allie couldn't help it. She was sandwiched between two of the sexiest men she'd ever laid eyes on. Of course, one she loved and the other she'd only just met, but still.

Good
God
.

She kept stealing little teensy glances at Ethan Munro. Easily six feet and a half, he . . . sort of looked normal, other than being so big and bulked with muscle. His hair was exceptionally long—clear to the middle of his back, dark, wild looking, with a tiny braid at each temple. Part of her wanted to ask if he was an actor, because he definitely looked as though he could play some big medieval hunk in a sweeping Scottish historical.

He glanced down and caught her staring.

And winked.

Ethan and Gabe continued to talk, and that was another thing that made Allie pause. Ethan's speech was different. Heavily accented like Gabe's, but there was something else, something she couldn't put a finger to. And not just the accent, but the
words
he chose. He said,
I vow 'tis a most comely time of year, what wi' the leaves turning color
, and it just wasn't right. It sounded right on him, but out of century, maybe?

Had he not lifted her hand and kissed it, she would have thought him a ghostly soul.

Finally, the cottage came into view and they all stomped their feet on the grating near the deck.

“My wife and I would like you to come for supper this eve, if you've a mind for it,” Ethan offered. “ 'Tisna often we're here without the boys. A few of my kinsmen are on their way over now.” He winked at Allie. “We're
grilling.
”

Allie nearly choked at the proud expression on his face.
Kinsmen?

Gabe glanced at Allie, and she gave him a nod.

“We'll be there, Munro,” said Gabe. “How's the time, and what can we bring?”

Ethan smiled at Allie. “Bring nothin' but this fetchin' maid you've snagged and come round six.” With a wave, he started off down the lane. “By the by, then.”

Allie watched the big man disappear into the forest. She shook her head and turned to Gabe. “There's something strange about him.”

Gabe pulled her into his arms and grinned. “Aye. He's no' near as sexy as me and he's a bit daft,” he said, twirling a finger round his temple. “He canna help it, lass.”

Allie burst out laughing, and then fell into the easy, toe-curling kiss of her very own Highlander.

They stood there, beneath the canopy of trees on the shores of Loch Ness, for quite some time like that.

Allie decided it suited her just fine.

 

After a snack of chocolate-dipped
digestibles
and a pot of tea—compliments of Ethan and his wife—Allie and Gabe showered
separately
, dressed, and started for Ethan's. Since they had time, they took their time, and explored the quaint town of Drumnadrochit. Although Gabe said it was quite touristy, he took her through the Loch Ness Visitor Center, which had numerous accounts of Nessie sightings and the research involved through the years. They stopped at the Urquhart Castle ruins and walked through, with Gabe telling Allie of several trips he'd had as a
wee boy
to the great loch's ruins.

He told her a Highland story or two, as well, involving fairies and warriors and ghostly knights.

And of course, they couldn't visit an ancient ruin without spirited souls flagging Allie down, introducing themselves and whatever other soul who might be around, and asking a question or two about their past.

Somehow she could always find out just what they needed.

At Urquhart, a young knight, maybe seventeen years old, approached Allie and Gabe, gave a low bow, and asked Allie if she could help him locate his lost love.

To Gabe's chagrin, Allie noticed, she
could
.

After collecting the boy's name, year of birth, and as many details surrounding his death that he could remember, Allie promised to return and do what she could. The young knight gave her a wide smile, another bow, and drifted back into the depths of the castle's stones.

Gabe had simply watched.

As they returned to the Rover, Allie glanced over. “What?” she asked, smiling.

At the Rover, Gabe stopped at her door and propped himself against the window. “You amaze me, Allie Morgan.”

Allie just smiled.

Next, they were winding up the lane, on the other side of the loch, to Ethan's. At the top, they parked the Rover, and Gabe ran over to help Allie out—though she needed no help whatsoever but couldn't remember the last time a man helped her from a vehicle, so allowed it—and started up the steps to the cottage. A thin trail of smoke rose from behind the house, and on the breeze carried several deep, loud bouts of laughter.

Gabe nodded in that direction. “Och, they're round back. Let's go there, aye?”

So down the steps and round the back they went. A deck, very similar to Gabe's with an outdoor fireplace and furniture, seemingly had no room left for one more person.

The size of the men on the deck took up so much room, Allie didn't think she could squeeze in.

Good
God
.

“Are you friends with the entire local rugby team?” she whispered to Gabe.

He chuckled. “Worse. Just wait and see.”

As soon as the first man caught sight of Gabe, an uproar of thick Highland brogue rose through the air, and Gabe gave Allie a gentle shove. “Back up, darlin'. I dunna want you to get squished—”

Allie gladly backed up, although she didn't think anyone would squish her. Not the way they were squishing Gabe, anyway. Five of the biggest guys Allie had ever seen—especially gathered at one location—crowded around Gabe and took turns putting him in bear hugs and slapping his back. Several things in Gaelic were spoken, but nothing Allie knew. Heck—she only knew a few swears compliments of Wee Mary and Gabe's mother.

Suddenly, one of the huge men strode straight toward her, and although she'd never met him in her life, Allie could tell he was one naughty Highlander. The mischievous gleam in his eyes revealed that much. Like Ethan, he had an abundance of hair, a brawny physique, and a devilish smile.

He walked right up to her, grasped her hand in his, and brought his lips down. When he raised his head, a wicked grin lifted his mouth. “Aiden Munro, lass.” His smile widened. “Ethan's cousin. I beg you, tell me you're that little lad's sister.”

Allie laughed. “Sorry. Definitely not sister.”

“Bloody hell.”

Allie patted his arm. “Don't worry. There'll be others.”

Aiden's eyes lit up. “Och, damn, another American lass. Ethan's married to a bonny one. Fine lot, you are.”

“Aiden Munro, you big ole flirt,” said a female voice. “Stop bothering our guest.”

Through the crowd of rugby players, Allie caught sight of Gabe. He peered through the men around him, shrugged, and grinned.

Gabe MacGowan was no small man. At six feet two inches, and packed with muscle, Allie thought him to be pretty darn big.

But he was surrounded by giants.

“Allie? I'm Amelia, Ethan's wife,” she said. A beautiful woman with long, straight blond hair and the most uniquely shaped eyes Allie had ever seen rested her hand on her belly—a belly that looked the slightest bit pregnant—and grinned. “Why don't you come over here, away from that shower of testosterone? I've got some iced tea.”

Allie chuckled. “Very nice to meet you, and thanks, I'd love some.” She glanced back at the wall of muscle. Something was said in Gaelic, and all heads turned to stare directly at her.

They all had the same serene smile on their faces.

All, that is, except Aiden.

His expression still reminded Allie of a wolf, after finding a nice, juicy rabbit for dinner.

Aiden then threw back his head and laughed.

“What'd they say?” asked Allie, hoping Amelia had heard and that she knew Gaelic.

Amelia grinned. “Sounds to me like you've won the heart of bad boy Gabe MacGowan.” She handed Allie a glass of tea. “And from the sound of it, he couldn't be any happier.”

Chapter 25

A
n hour later, after the absolute craziest food fest involving the largest eating machines had run its course, not a crumb remained and everyone sat on Ethan's deck, enjoying the fire crackling in the hearth and good-hearted conversation.

Involving Allie.

“So, lass,” Ethan Munro said, “Gabe tells us you're a cherished advocate for spirited souls.” He nodded. “Vastly honorable occupation, methinks.”

Allie blinked.

Gabe chuckled.

Aiden grinned. “Tell us about it, aye?”

Allie slid a glance over the group and gave a sheepish grin.

Gabe squeezed her hand—the one he held clutched between them.

So she did. Keeping the facts minimal, of course. They wanted to know where she was from, where she lived, and what her favorite movies were.

Amelia, sitting across from her on the love seat with Ethan, grinned. Ethan rested a hand over her slightly swollen abdomen, and every once in a while they'd exchange a loving look.

It nearly made Allie cry.

Usually, her inability to have children didn't bother her so much. She'd had time to accept her fate and was awfully grateful to be alive.

Gabe slid his hand to rest on her knee, and the warmth from his skin seeped through her jeans. It comforted her, and made her happier than ever that she'd been given a second—rather, a third—chance to live out her life.

Hopefully, she'd get to live it out with the man beside her.

“Amelia, why dunna you tell Allie our story, aye?” said Ethan's younger brother, Rob.

“Come on, sister,” said Aiden.

Amelia sighed. “Are you up for one crazy story, Allie?” she asked.

Allie nodded. She doubted quite seriously Amelia or anyone else could top anything she'd ever seen, heard, or personally done.

Quickly, she discovered just how
wrong
she could be when it came to being the holder of the crazy story.

After Amelia finished, Allie sat for a second or two, blinked, rose from her seat, and paced in front of the long sofa that miraculously held four Highland knights.

She couldn't help but stare in fascination.

Every time her gaze passed over Aiden's, he grinned.

Finally, she sat down again beside Gabe. She looked at Ethan. “I didn't think I could be shocked. But that story?” She shook her head. “I thought I noticed something off about you earlier.”

Everyone roared.

Five warriors, enchanted in a ghostly state of existence for centuries? For one hour a day—the gloaming—they'd gain substance. And for all of those centuries, they had no idea why. All they remembered was that just before a fierce battle between clans, Ethan Munro had been accused of murdering his new bride.

Amazing.

“And then Amelia came along,” said Ethan, who slipped his free arm around her and pulled her close. “This little wildcat stormed my keep to write a novel, unafraid of anythin',” he said, and then looked at her. “And stole my heart.”

“Lucky bastard,” said one of the warriors.