Beyond A Highland Whisper (15 page)

“No problem,” Trish replied with a smile. She picked up her cell phone as Nessa stumbled toward the door. “We’re all set. If you can swing by and pick up our bags today then we’ll be your new tenants tonight.”

Ignoring as Trish murmured to someone about bags, Nessa paused just outside the door. She filled her lungs with a deep breath of the sharp, clean air. She hoped to find a miraculous revitalizer somewhere in the stiff Highland breeze. The day was clear and unusually cool for so early in the afternoon. Nessa welcomed the chill. It would keep her awake and help her concentrate in her current state of exhaustion.

Nessa scanned around the dig at the various cordoned-off sites. She sighed as she watched the students milling about. From where Nessa stood, not one of them looked like they had a care in the world other than striving to be the first one to come up with the next big find.

Nessa decided against wandering among the students. She was in no mood or condition for small talk of any kind. She did good just to stay on her feet. Turning toward the open field, Nessa pulled her collar closer about her face. She scanned the horizon and found herself drawn to a peaceful-looking grove of pines.

Nessa picked her way into the heart of the inviting thicket. A gurgling spring broke free from the earth and tumbled down into a deep, tranquil pool. The clear water bubbled forth from the depths of a massive limestone fissure, the opening hollowed by years of the running water. Ancient Picts had fashioned out an altar from the great stone shelf where it protruded from the bank. Nessa recognized the triple spirals and the serene face of the woman peering out at her from the center of the ancient stone. This was a shrine to honor the blessed mother goddess. The people would have worshipped the well for its healing powers.

Nessa knelt upon the mossy embankment. She took a deep breath and splashed the icy, sweet water upon her face. The sting of weariness disappeared from her grainy eyes. Her exhaustion evaporated. She felt more rested then she had in days.

“Thank you. I needed to find this place,” she murmured to the peaceful image. As she looked into the serene gaze of the goddess’s face upon the stone, Nessa sighed and bowed her head. She’d sought this tranquility for days. No Gabriel. No Highlander. No students buzzing around her with a thousand mind-numbing questions that she was in no condition to field. She toyed with the thought of returning to the encampment to get her sleeping bag and bring it here to spend the night at the side of the pool.

The snap of twigs and the rustling of dried pine boughs tore her attention away from the pool. The sounds came from the bushes on the other side of the pool. Nessa wondered if it were some sort of animal looking to quench its thirst in the cold waters of the crystal spring.

A woman eased her way out of the trees. She hesitated, her deep, violet eyes scanning the clearing as though searching for an item she’d lost. Nessa wondered who she could be and why she was so oddly dressed. Her flowing hair glinted with silver, hanging in heavy tresses to her waist. She wore a thick velvet cloak clenched at her throat with a pale, delicate hand. Her cloak covered her entire body. The hood fell back upon her shoulders. The garment was so long even her feet disappeared from view.

Her wandering gaze settled upon Nessa. She smiled in recognition. Her eyes sparkled, crinkling at the corners. She nodded her head in greeting as she made her way around the pool.

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to find Brid’s special place.”

Confused, Nessa rose to her feet as she peered closer into the woman’s face. “Have we met?” The woman had a nagging sense of familiarity about her but Nessa was certain she’d never seen her before.

“Not exactly,” the woman replied with the slightest shake of her head. She smiled as she circled Nessa as though she were a newly acquired possession. “Let’s just say, I’m familiar with the history of this area and I thought I could be of some help to you in your quest.”

She thought she understood. Nessa smiled her polite visiting-archeologist smile. This woman was obviously an eccentric local who’d heard about the research of the Durness sites.

“Ah, I see. Thank you. But currently, we’re cataloging items from the Bronze Age. I appreciate your searching me out but I’m afraid I’m more interested in a bit further back along the timeline then you might realize. My specialty isn’t this area’s more recent history.”

A knowing smile curled the side of her mouth as the woman gazed out across the pond. “The Highlander from your dreams is not from the Bronze Age. He’s from the Scotland of 1410.”

Nessa almost choked as her throat constricted. She clapped her hand to her chest. How could this woman know about her dreams? She’d never seen her before. She’d never told anyone except Trish about the nightly visits from her Highlander.

“Who are you?” Her voice trembling, Nessa struggled against the swell of uneasiness in her chest. She edged her way closer to the mysterious woman who now stood at the mouth of the well.

“A friend,” the woman replied, with a mysterious smile reflected in the water. Her shoulders shrugged inward as she tightened her cloak. With a lingering sigh, she continued as she turned toward Nessa. “Your Highlander’s name is Latharn MacKay, and you must know he would never harm you. He cannot speak while in your dreams. But if you take the time to look into his heart, you will know everything he needs to say.”

Nessa’s body chilled to the bone by the eeriness of the woman’s words. Was this woman a ghost? A seer? A psychic? She peered closer at her. Relief flooded through Nessa’s mind when the woman appeared as solid and as much of this world as Nessa herself.

Nessa took a deep breath and swallowed hard against her pounding heart. “Since you seem to know so much about this…Latharn MacKay, why is he forbidden to speak?”

The woman’s eyes filled with sadness as she turned away. Her voice quivered with emotion as she pulled her hood back over her head. She didn’t look back as she continued moving deeper into the pines. “Everything you need to know about Latharn can be found in your dreams. If you’ll trust him, everything will become clear to you in your heart in its own good time.”

“Wait!” Nessa grew alarmed as she realized the woman was leaving the well. “What else do you know about him? Is there any more you can tell me? Surely, you’re not going to leave me here without saying anything more.”

The woman stopped. She didn’t face Nessa; instead, her hooded form turned away. She kept her head bowed as she instructed in a firm commanding voice, “Trust him, my child. That’s all I can tell you. Trust him, and trust your heart.”

With the mysterious woman’s final words, a brisk whirlwind swirled through the trees. Dust, sticks, and bits of leaves flew wildly into the air. Blinded by debris filling the wind, Nessa choked against the dust cloud covering her face. When the wind died down and she’d rubbed her eyes free of the dust, the cloaked woman by the pond had vanished.

Chapter Fifteen

“Counterclockwise, fool!” Deardha roared against the crystal, her breath fogging the glass.

Damn, the fool was weak and did not follow instruction well at all. The idiot couldn’t even read a basic grimoire. She tapped the crystal with a blackened nail as Gabriel stumbled in circles about the room.

What a pathetic failure. Deardha propped her chin in her hands and leaned her elbows against the pedestal. She was going to have to possess the imbecile’s body after all. Possession was always so unpleasant. She hadn’t possessed anyone since the thirteenth century and at least that had been a dear little child. Men were such filthy, piteous beasts when she took them over. Always obsessed with grabbing their cocks to make sure it still hung between their legs.

Deardha blew out an irritated sigh. It was the only way. Latharn appeared to be growing stronger now that his little bitch was on the soil of his homeland. Apparently, she should’ve taken into account his mystical abilities when she conjured his crystal cell. If only she’d foreseen his ability to travel the cosmos with his mind. No matter. She still would have him.

No man dare cast her aside, least of all Latharn MacKay. He would beg to return to her bed. She would force a pledge of his heart to her. And then he would die a delightful death of her choosing, one that involved something wondrously painful and excruciatingly slow.

Chapter Sixteen

Her cell phone jarred her out of her head-jerking doze. Nessa scowled at the contraption as she pulled it from her pocket. With a bleary-eyed squint, Nessa focused on the display, unable to identify the number demanding her immediate attention.

“Hello,” she snapped. Nessa rubbed her eyes as she held the phone to her ear. She shot Trish an angry glare as her head whacked against the window for at least the third time since they’d left the dig. If there were a single pothole anywhere in the road, Trish would always manage to plow right through the middle of it.

“Nessa?” Gabriel’s voice buzzed in her ear. He sounded uncertain he’d dialed the correct number.

“Oh, Gabriel. Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. It’s just that I’m in the process of having my teeth rattled out of my head as Trish explores every pothole in Scotland.”

Nessa thumped Trish’s shoulder and covered the mouthpiece of her phone. “Slow this damn thing down,” she hissed.

His rich laughter rumbled in her ear as Gabriel snorted his reply, “I’m not even going to ask ye what that means. I’m just relieved your anger isn’t directed at me.”

Nessa yawned and sat up straighter in the seat. Wiping the mist from her side of the windshield, she focused on the road ahead. If she remembered her landmarks, once they passed that last weathered cairn on the right it wasn’t much farther to the MacKays’ house. As she tried to rub the bleariness out of her eyes, Nessa gave up and decided to take the polite route for this conversation. “So, how are you feeling?”

His voice a bit strained, Gabriel was quick to reply, “I’m quite a bit better. I’ve been able to graduate from the crutches to a cane and my ribs are not paining me nearly as much. Ye would know that if ye would listen to your messages that I’ve been leaving every time I call.” A reproachful tone crept even deeper into his voice as Gabriel hurried to scold her even more. “And I canna believe ye have not stopped by the pub. ’Tis been almost three weeks since I’ve seen your lovely face.”

Nessa closed her eyes, clenching the phone tighter. She should have never answered it, especially when she didn’t recognize the number. She squelched the tendril of self-imposed guilt by rerunning Cordelia’s words through her head. She’d be damned if she’d become any man’s lapdog, even one as handsome as Gabriel Burns. She might be plain, but she had a lot going for her and she wasn’t afraid of being alone. If true love really existed, that would be great. But she wasn’t about to go fawning after any man, no matter how great he looked in a pair of tight-fitting jeans.

“Nessa? Are ye there?”

Gabriel’s voice interrupted her fuming and pulled her back into the conversation. “I’m here. Sorry. I guess we must have a bad signal here.” Nessa shrugged her shoulders at Trish as she scratched her nails on the phone in her own simulation of cellular interference.

“Promise me ye will be good enough to stop by the pub tomorrow and allow me to fix ye a bit of lunch.” His voice smooth and conjoling, Gabriel purred into her ear.

Too tired to argue, Nessa latched onto the next best thing she could think of; she decided to play the clueless female. “That’ll be great. Trish and I have to come into town to file some papers. We’ll stop by the pub on the way out and you can treat us both.”

Nessa grinned when Gabriel went silent. She knew he had intended for her to come alone. She closed her eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and waited for his reply.

“That’ll be grand. I’ll see the two of ye tomorrow and I’ll fix ye a fine repast.” Nessa stifled a giggle, She was almost disappointed. Gabriel had recovered well. His voice held only the slightest tinge of frustration over a strong layer of determination.