Authors: Cyndi Tefft
“
Help him! Do something! You can’t let him die!” I screamed at Aiden, reaching out to Ravi, but my hand passed right through.
Aiden’s eyes held a deep compassion but his voice was resolute. “He will not die, Lindsey. I’ve only come for you.”
“
But I can’t…” I began, but then stopped upon seeing the determined set of his jaw. “It’s really over, isn’t it?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. He nodded and held out a hand. I felt hollow inside, knowing there was nothing I could do. A tear slid down my cheek as I stole a glance back at the car where my body lay, surrounded by people working earnestly to save what I knew was already lost.
“
Goodbye,” I breathed to my former self, then turned to Aiden and what lay ahead.
The instant my fingertips touched his, the rainy night melted into a picturesque scene. I looked out over a lake toward green, rolling hills dotted with purple heather. The setting sun reflected pools of orange in the water’s mirrored surface. Behind us, wreathed in mist, a stone castle dominated the small island where we stood. A narrow bridge spanned the distance to the mainland. There were no sounds or signs of modern day: no electric lights or lampposts, no familiar hum of traffic.
Aiden moved to stand beside me, his presence as tangible as a supportive embrace. All at once, the despair that had been choking me suddenly dissolved. Aiden exuded a supernatural peace that chased away my grief like a warm blanket blocks out the chilly night. I felt like I was supposed to be sad about something, but I couldn't quite remember what. Overwhelmed, I stared across the peaceful water.
“
I just can’t believe it… dead.” I rolled it around in my mind, considering. “I always thought that death was something to be afraid of, you know, something terrible. And yet, now here I am in this beautiful place.” He smiled, his eyes filled with understanding. “And I feel more alive than I ever did before,” I continued, shaking my head in awe.
“
Many folk say they believe in heaven, but more often than not, they’re surprised to find out God wasn’t lying after all.”
I noted he was no longer wearing the cream shirt and slacks, but a red and green kilt, white linen shirt and black boots. With his hair pulled away from his face in a braid, the glowing light of the sunset danced off the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw.
“
If you don’t mind, I’ll make us a wee campfire to warm your toes.” He set to work gathering sticks from the sparse woods around us. I sat down and tucked my arms around my knees, enthralled by his accent and fascinated by the sight of him in his native dress. I’d never seen a guy in a kilt before but I had to admit I really liked it. My gaze traveled up his bare calves and over his back. His muscles flexed as he bent to arrange the twigs and limbs for the fire. The kilt covered his legs at one moment, then revealed them anew as he stood up. All my earlier thoughts seemed to wash away as I watched him, drinking in his strength and beauty.
Damn, he is gorgeous.
I suddenly remembered the saying that Scots don’t wear anything under their kilts and pushed back a crazy impulse to see for myself. Afraid that he might notice me checking him out, I cleared my throat to break the silence.
“
Do you want some help?” I asked.
“
Thank you for the offer but I’ve done this a thousand times if I’ve done it once. No fear, I’ve a flint in my sporran.” He reached into a small pouch tied around his waist and pulled out the flint. A spark lighted from the metal, and he deftly turned it into a flame that lapped at the kindling hungrily.
“
Where are we? This place is so beautiful and yet it seems almost surreal. Is this heaven, then?” I asked.
He added more substantial wood to the fire and stood up. “I’m glad that you like it. But no, it’s not heaven. Not really. It's my home, Eilean Donan.” He swept his arm out in front of him to include everything in view. “The castle, the land, the sea, the cottages, the stables. It all belonged to my family, the MacRaes and the MacKenzies. I lived here as a lad. Once upon a time, that is.” His voice had a wistful quality to it, of a great sadness reconciled long ago. Wanting to comfort him, I reached out and touched his arm. His hand closed over mine with a brief squeeze.
“
Tell me about yourself. We’ve enough time yet.” He sat down and I settled in next to him.
My mind was a blank. “What’s there to tell? I just started college a few months ago. My parents got divorced last year and have used me as a pawn in their tug of war against one another.” I frowned and tried to come up with something more cheerful to talk about. “Let’s see… I like to sing.”
“
Sing me a song then. I’d love to hear you sing.”
I shook my head, embarrassed that I’d brought it up.
“
I promise I won’t laugh. Go on.” His blue eyes danced with the firelight and my heart sped up. His smile was wreaking havoc on my insides, so I closed my eyes and took a breath to calm my nerves. I sang the first verse of “Amazing Grace,” the only song that came to mind. To my surprise, my voice came out rich and full, pulsing with a soothing energy. The sound relaxed me and spurred me on so that I built with confidence to the last verse.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun
The final note hung in the air like a delicious scent and when I opened my eyes, he grinned and clapped enthusiastically.
“
Bravo! That was beautiful. You’ve a very lovely voice.” I returned his smile and thanked him, thrilled with his praise. “A perfect song, too,” he said. “’Tis true, that. A man could stay here for ten thousand years and it’d be just as if one day had gone by. And yet other times, the days speed by faster than you want them to.” He looked at me with a curious expression and I wondered what he meant.
“
You said you’re here to take me from earth to heaven,” I said, “but that this isn’t heaven. You also said you’d seen an angel but that you aren’t one. Have you met God as well? Are we going to go to heaven, then?”
The last question seemed to subdue him, as if he’d been expecting it but not looking forward to it. “No, I haven’t met God face-to-face yet, though I feel His presence with me all the time.”
“
What do you mean you feel His presence? What does it feel like?”
“
It's hard to explain. My uncle taught me about something called gravity that pulls you down to the ground and keeps you from flying off into the sky like a bird. I guess God is like that. His presence is a tether that keeps me and holds me,” he said with a shrug.
“
Have you always felt God’s presence?” I asked, fascinated.
“
Aye, God’s always been with me, even when I was a wee lad.” His eyes narrowed with a far-off remembering. “My father died when I was six years old. I remember crying in my bed at night, missing my Da. Mam had told me that he went to be with God, and I thought God must be pretty terrible to take a young lad’s Da.” He gave me a crooked smile and continued. “I lay there weeping and praying, ‘God, give him back. Give my Da back!’ and then He was there.”
“
God?”
He nodded. “I was lying on my back, staring up at the roof and it started to glow—a beautiful soft, yellow glow. It spread from the roof down over the room like a waterfall. It washed over me and through me, into the floor and then it was gone. I never cried for my Da again after that, and God’s presence has been with me ever since.”
“
Wow.” Excitement fluttered in my stomach at the thought of meeting God. “So let’s go meet Him together.”
His face fell and he breathed a deep sigh. He attempted a smile, but the sadness in his eyes broke my heart.
“
I’d like nothing better than to go to heaven with you and meet our Creator. But alas, I cannot do that. You’ll go on to meet Him, but I…” He broke off and turned away so I couldn’t see the emotion there. I touched his leg in unspoken support and his hand closed over mine.
“
Why can’t you come, too?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
He regarded me for a moment, like he wanted to say something, then shook his head in frustration. “It's a long story.” He stood up and started walking along the edge of the water and I followed, but his stride was so long, it was a struggle to keep up with him. I started to jog a little and was surprised at how easy it was. After picking up the pace, I sped past him, giggling at his startled expression.
“
Race you to the church,” I challenged, spying the stone structure with a cross above the door. Aiden grinned and broke into a sprint behind me. I hastened my pace to stay in front but made it to the church mere seconds after he did and fell into his arms, laughing.
“
That’s amazing!” I gushed. “I could never run like that on earth because I’ve always been too fat.”
Aiden stiffened in surprise. His face creased in a frown as he looked me over. “You’re not fat. Your body is soft and feminine, with curves like a wild rose. In fact, I’d say you’re fair beautiful.”
“
Yeah, right.” I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. I had some admirable qualities, I supposed, but beauty was not one of them. My roommate Jen was tall, blonde and athletic, her tanned body seemingly carved from marble. Now
she
was beautiful.
“
No, it's true,” he insisted. “You’ve this wild, curly hair like the stems of a grape vine. And it dances when the wind touches it, with a mind of its own.” He playfully ruffled my hair and it obligingly set off in multiple directions. I tried to flatten it with my hands and fixed him with a glare. His gaze grew thoughtful as he continued. “Your skin is like the finest silk, so thin and smooth.”
He ran a single finger down my cheek and under my chin. My pulse quickened and I swallowed hard in an effort to contain the shivers dancing down my spine.
“
And your green eyes are the color of the hills—the color of my home.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Aye, there’s something about you, Lindsey Waters.”
His eyes focused on my lips with a flicker of hunger and my heart raced at the thought of his kiss. He leaned forward, his lips merely inches from mine. My breath caught in anticipation, but he sighed and abruptly moved away. “Come. I’ll show you the kirk,” he said, his voice more gruff than before.
Stung, I hesitated as he held the door open for me. I brushed past him as I entered the church, unwilling to meet his eyes. Soot from the fireplace darkened the walls and filled the room with a rich, peaty scent. The afternoon light streamed through warm hues of stained glass, illuminating the Virgin Mary and her child. My chest squeezed in response to the image of the tightly wrapped infant.
“
I’ll never have a baby now,” I said, transfixed by the love in Mary’s face. I never really knew I wanted one until that moment, and now it was too late. A crushing weight pressed down on me with the realization of all the things I’d never get to do. A sob caught in my throat. I sensed Aiden’s movement behind me and was struck with a wild desire to know what his child would look like, bouncing on my father’s knee. My hand flew to my mouth in horror.
“
My parents… I mean, my dad is all alone now. My mom moved in with her boyfriend and now Dad… with me gone…” I struggled to explain, to help him understand what my death would mean to them. “Do you know what will happen to them? Will they be all right?” I asked, but he shook his head.
“
I cannot tell the future. I’m sorry.” He frowned, but the compassion in his eyes was sincere. I nodded and wiped my wet cheeks, trying to get a hold of myself.
“
I’m sorry I keep doing that. It’s just a lot to digest.” I plopped down on the front pew and he sat down beside me.
“
I understand,” he said. “And if you want to know the truth, I don’t think you’re daft at all. You’re a tender-hearted woman with a caring spirit. Not everyone I meet sheds a tear for those left behind.”
“
They don’t?” I asked, perplexed. “Well, to be fair, I was crying for myself, too. I didn’t even know I wanted kids. Did you?” I blurted out the question before I realized he might have had children once upon a time. The thought was unsettling, but he was quick to respond.
“
No, I did not have any bairns of my own, though I’ve taken a fair number of them to heaven.”
“
Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine how awful that must be for you.”
“
For me?” he said. “Why would you say that?”
“
Well, you know, to have to take a baby from its parents, to know how much they’ll grieve its death. That must be heart wrenching for you. I couldn’t do it.”
He stared at me like his world had suddenly slipped on its axle and he was seeing me for the first time. A flicker of hope crossed his face before he clamped his jaw and shook his head as if to clear it. His voice was unsteady when he spoke.
“
I cannot count the number of years I’ve been here and never once has someone cared about what it’s like for me.” His blue eyes locked onto mine for a moment, then I dropped my gaze to the floor, a blush heating my cheeks. He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. Tingles shot up my neck at the soft press of his mouth against my skin.
“
You’re an uncommon woman, Lindsey.” He let out a heavy sigh. “But I should not get so attached to you.”