HauntedLaird (2 page)

Voices echoed behind her, making her push onward even though
she gasped for air. Her lungs hurt. There wasn’t an uncovered patch of skin
that didn’t burn from being attacked by objects in the dark. She knew if she
didn’t slow down she was going to get severely injured. When she couldn’t hear the
voices behind her anymore, she slowed to a stop and bent over with her hands on
her knees, trying to clear her head and breathe.

Wheezing in and out, she thought she was going to be sick
even though her stomach was empty. Her captors hadn’t fed her. Dizziness made
her head spin, causing her to crumble to her knees. Uncontrollable tears gushed
and for the first time since the whole thing started, she felt completely
helpless. Sob after sob croaked from deep inside her before she finally curled
into a ball on the soft forest floor.

She lay there for several minutes more, trying to calm her
frazzled nerves. The sensation of warmth cocooned her, soothing her, clearing
her thoughts as the faint sound of her dead husband’s voice flowed inside her
head.
Think, Lynn. Think. There’s got to be a way out of this. Lying on the
ground won’t save you.

Lynn rolled onto her side then into a seated position, dried
her eyes and gathered her wits. Eddie reached out to her in her time of need
just as he’d done whenever she was down or distraught over the past three
years. This she knew in her heart. Whether she imagined it or not, it was his
whispered words of encouragement that sparked her drive to survive and pulled
her back together. He was the reason she’d come on this trip to Scotland, to
fulfill their ghost-hunting dreams. She’d be damned if she’d let some two-bit
kidnappers ruin her life. She struggled to her feet and straightened her
clothes as best as possible.

Up ahead through the trees, she thought she saw a break in
the woods. Maybe there was a meadow and quite possibly a house with people who
could help her. Slowly she worked her way in that direction. The sound of male
voices from somewhere behind her scared her. They were still coming after her
and getting closer. She dug deep for any energy she had left and ran.

The moment she cleared the tree line, the ground went out
from under her. She landed on her backside and began a torturous slide,
bouncing off saplings, rocks and underbrush as her speed increased. Afraid
she’d break her neck if she didn’t stop, Lynn kept grabbing on to anything that
would slow her descent. Several times the thin saplings she managed to grasp
pulled out of the soft ground, slowing her some but not much. Digging in her
heels helped, but the moist soil gave way until she hit a solid mass, a
well-embedded rock that stopped her downward spiral.

Lynn came to a bone-jarring halt, leaning into the side of
the mountain and praying the rock beneath her feet didn’t pull out of place.
Once the dirt around her stopped shifting, she evaluated her condition. It
didn’t seem as if anything was broken but it was hard to tell through the
total-body numbness. Breathing deep, she calmed her overwrought nerves and
forced her trembling hands to search from side to side for anything that would
help support her. Peering down the length of her body, she realized she’d
slipped into a ravine and from her position, it looked bottomless. It wasn’t an
open meadow she’d seen, it was simply an optical illusion caused by the way the
moonlight played upon the terrain.

Damn. She closed her eyes and it hit her. She was living the
dream she had the first night of this ghost-hunting adventure. Dead tired from
hiking into the Grampian Mountains, cozy and warm in her sleeping bag, her
imagination had run wild in her sleep and she had awoken all hot and bothered
by the images fired to life in her brain. Thinking back, it replayed as if she
were asleep and the dream reoccurred.

Don’t look down
, whispered through her head as she
gasped for a full breath. She’d clung on for life in her dream just as she did
now. Dirt slipped from the mountain, crumbling around her with any movement.
Lynn kept her eyes closed tight, listening to the echo of a rock as it rolled
into the deep crevice beneath her. It sounded so far away. She tried
desperately not to think on the “what if she fell” scenario and let the memory
of the dream temporarily control her thoughts.

She’d had help then whereas now there was none. As she’d
reached upward, a hand had grabbed hers. If she remembered correctly, warmth
had shot down her arm as a strong hand wrapped around hers. Lynn leaned back
into the mountain, letting the vision of hope live in her mind in a valiant
effort to relieve the tension of her reality.

One hand had held hers, while the other had reached and
grabbed her backpack, tugging her into the mouth of a cave without so much as a
grunt from the effort. Once certain of her safety, she’d lifted onto her knees,
turned on a flashlight she didn’t remember having—after all it was a dream.
Several seconds had passed before she could actually focus. But when she did,
she couldn’t believe her eyes.

A gorgeous hunk of a man dressed in full-scale, ancient
Scottish regalia had stood staring down at her. The way the light played across
the planes of his face gave him a dangerously rugged appeal. She couldn’t
decide if his eyes were green, blue or a mixture of both. A firm jaw held a set
of perfect male lips. Waves of dark hair thick with amber highlights hung loose
about his broad shoulders.

He had been bare-chested except for the leather strap that
crossed from left shoulder to right hip, which held the sheath for the sword
she saw the handle of above his shoulder. The man’s abdominal muscles were
unlike any she’d ever seen. Ripped was the only word that came to mind, but
even that didn’t do him justice. A red-and-green-plaid kilt slung low across
his hips lay perfectly to his knees. Laced boots covered from his calves to his
toes, but the snug fit hid nothing about their musculature. His legs befit the
rest of him, muscles on top of muscles.

For a split second,
wonder if he’s true to his kilt
had flashed inside her brain and she’d had to fold her hands together to resist
the temptation to lift the plaid and take a peek. She’d swallowed hard, then
forced her brain to work and made her mouth form a sentence.

“Thank you for saving me.” She remembered speaking as she
held her hand out to him.

He’d stared for what seemed like an eternity before he’d
reached for it and helped her to her feet. She’d stumbled on weakened legs and
fallen against the solid wall of male flesh. His arm wrapped around her waist,
holding her close along the warmth of his form. His other hand’s fingers gently
touched her chin and guided her face upward. He seemed to study her before his
eyes met hers.

The low, sultry baritone of his words had washed over her as
he spoke. “Nay, milady. ’Tis ye who have saved mi.”

In the dream, his arm had tightened around her waist as he
lifted her without any effort. One of her hands held his thick, bulging biceps
while her other hand landed on his waist for support. Never had anyone lifted
her to
kiss her
. Nerves fired to life that she’d thought were dead. The
closer his lips got, the more she wanted his kiss. This slow-motion event was
killing her. The heat of his breath caressed her lips, just millimeters apart.
The warmth of his body set her on fire with desire.

Lynn caught herself craning her neck, trying to reach his
lips. Reality set in and she opened her eyes. She truly clung to the side of a
mountain for life. She tilted her chin upward, but saw nothing much in the
darkness. Was there a handsome man waiting to rescue her? Nervously she laughed
at the ludicrous thought. There wasn’t anyone who knew where she was or who would
risk his life to save her.

This wasn’t a dream. This was her reality.

No, it was up to her to save herself. She dug deep, brushing
away the perfect hero-saves-the-day dream from her thoughts, and struggled for
survival.

Cautious in her movements, she inched along the rock,
turning until she was face-first against the dirt. Should she try to climb down
or was it easier to go up? Lynn moved her hands, palms flat, along the ground,
searching for any point of support, anything she could grasp. The fingertips of
her right hand brushed something rough and solid. Lynn rotated her head in that
direction. It appeared to be a ledge. God, she hoped it would hold her.

With slow, careful movements, she worked her way toward the
lip in the rock, hugging her body to the mountain for dear life. She used the
plants for leverage, holding on but not pulling so their roots wouldn’t break
and jerk free from the ground. It seemed like an eternity had passed before she
reached the ledge. Every muscle ached and trembled but she refused to give in
to the exhaustion that threatened to tear her from the mountainside. Nope. She
didn’t plan to fail. That ledge was her salvation, her place to rest and
recuperate until sunrise.

She gripped the rocky edge. When it didn’t break off and slide
away, relief made her smile. Now all she had to do was pull herself up onto it.
Toeing her boots into the dirt, she tried to push upward using her legs. The
ground slid out from beneath her right foot and she slipped, leaving her
dangling by her hands. Her shoulders screamed in pain and her arms shook, but
she tightened her grip, refusing to lose this battle.

Sheer will helped her find a sturdier foundation. Her left
foot located a rock and her right she planted between the base of a bush and
the dirt. Spread-eagle wasn’t the best position but it kept her from falling
any farther. The rock didn’t feel as sturdy as the bush so she pushed up on her
right leg and glided her left leg closer to the right until it found a secure
spot stuck in a hole a wee bit higher than the bush. She struggled inch by inch
until she was able to hoist herself onto the ledge.

Lynn rolled several feet away from the edge and onto her
back. Breathing heavily, she lay still, trying to evaluate her condition.
Nothing felt broken. Her legs and arms trembled from the excessive exertion
she’d placed on them. This definitely was more exercise than she’d ever gotten.
Seconds turned into minutes as she simply lay there. The pounding of her heart
resumed its normal pace and the tension in her body relaxed, giving her a
chance to reflect on the events that led up to her precarious predicament.

Don’t scream, Lynn. It’s me, Travis.

The words rolled around inside her head and the sudden
realization of what she’d done surfaced.
Ohmygod. Travis.
She’d attacked
Travis, the one person who she thought was on her side. Or maybe he wasn’t. She
truly didn’t know for sure anymore. Hysterical laughter rose from her chest.

What had she done?

She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball. The
laughter slowed and exhaustion took over. Everything hurt. Both arms and legs
trembled uncontrollably. A deep-seated ache bloomed from her core and spread
outward until every ounce of her was thoroughly depleted of energy, causing her
muscles to spasm at will. Her body gave her no other choice but to sleep. If
she saw the morning light, it would be a miracle.

Invisible, strong, gentle hands caressed her, lulling her to
sleep. Warmth surrounded her. The handsome man reappeared in her dreams, giving
her comfort in her time of need. She snuggled closer into the imaginary heat of
his body. He surrounded her, cuddling her against him as if he alone would
protect her from the elements. Sensing he stood watch, Lynn relaxed further
into the depths of sleep, letting his sexy image renew her desire for life and
for him.

He appeared to be tall with wide shoulders and thick arms
that would hold her for as long as she needed to be held. Long, dark hair with
rich shades of red was pulled away from his face, making her wish to untie what
bound it and set it free to landscape his rugged features. Deep blue-green eyes
stared at her, filled with wonder and wisdom beyond his years.

In this dream, he said nothing, nor did she. He simply held
her while she slept, keeping her close and away from the edge of the ledge. His
imaginary heat warmed her and warded off the cool night air. A sensual dream,
not sexual, guided her into a peaceful place where the hazards of her day no
longer existed. It was just her and her hot, dream-walking man.

Chapter Two

Cupping his bruised balls, Travis quickly hobbled behind a
tree as someone with a lantern hurried after Lynn. It had to be the throb
radiating up his middle that crossed his eyes and had him seeing things. That
couldn’t have been Fin going after her. He repositioned his damaged goods and
sucked it up. Lynn had been kidnapped and for some unexplainable reason, Fin
was involved.

Someone had knocked him out earlier and the back of his head
still pounded. Now combined with the stabbing pain from his balls, Travis was
mad as a disturbed hornet’s nest. There was only one way to find out what the
hell was going on and it didn’t entail tending his wounds like a little boy.

Travis took a step then halted for a second to listen. A
male voice called out to Fin from the campsite. Knowing where Fin was, Travis
quietly sped after him. He had to reach Lynn before any of them. It was his
fault she was in this predicament. The dim light from the lantern stuck out in
the otherwise dark of night. He tracked the bobbing dot deeper into the woods.
Voices echoed behind him, but he doubted they’d catch up anytime soon.

When the light stopped for a second, Travis made his move.
Travis lunged from behind and wrapped up Fin’s legs, causing him to fall face
forward. The lantern rolled under a bush. Luckily it was battery powered and
didn’t cause a fire. Without giving Fin a chance, he flipped him over,
straddled his waist, grabbed his shirt and hauled his arm back, fist ready to
pummel his face.

“Wait,” Fin gasped, “I’m on your side.”

“Really,” Travis remarked sarcastically. “From where I see
it, you be helping the bad guys. You need ta be giving me a mighty fine reason
no ta be bloodying your nose right about now.”

When he took a swing at Fin’s face but intentionally missed,
Fin reacted, bucking and twisting, throwing Travis off balance just enough for
Fin to land a blow to Travis’ cheek. Stunned, Travis froze, glaring down at
Fin. If they’d been at home, Fin’s bucking beneath him would have made him hot.
Now it only made his balls hurt more.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Travis sputtered. “I
never would have actually hit you.”

“You gave me no choice.” Fin grabbed Travis’ wrists. “I know
about the ghost you saw last time we were camping.”

Travis jerked his wrists free and absently dropped his hands
to his sides. He didn’t remember telling anyone but Lynn about his experience.
How did Fin know? He slid off Fin to sit beside him. “How’d you know about
that?”

Fin sat up. “I found you lost in the woods around dawn
babbling incoherently about what happened. It took a bit of coaxing ta get it
out o’ you but even then you only gave me bits ’n pieces. When I finally put it
together, I knew you’d found it.”

“Found what?”

“The cursed MacKinnon my ancestors swore ta protect.”

“The who of what?” Travis couldn’t have hidden his confusion
if he tried.

Several yards away, the sounds of two people stumbling
through the woods and calling Fin’s name had them both jumping to their feet.
Fin clasped Travis’ shoulder.

“I don’t have time ta explain right now, but you got ta
trust me on this.” He released Travis with a quick, tender kiss to the spot
he’d hit on Travis’ cheek, bent and scooped up the lantern. “You find the lass.
I’ll guide those two in the wrong direction. We’ll meet at our favorite campsite
just north o’ here as soon as possible. Just find the lass before anything
happens ta her.”

Before Travis could reply, Fin ran toward the sound of
Lonnie and Timothy. Travis gave Fin a few minutes to make sure he was telling
the truth. When the light stopped for what seemed an eternity, the echo of
arguing voices floated through the air. Being too far away, he couldn’t make
out exactly what was said but got the gist of it. Fin was considered to be an
idiot by the one. Travis grinned. That’s where the one was wrong. Fin was
anything but stupid. Travis wasn’t sure what Fin had gotten himself into but
he’d asked him for his trust in this matter. When the light moved, leading the
band of three away from Lynn’s true direction, Travis believed in his best friend
and lover.

Travis spun on his heels and hurried after Lynn. With the
help of a flashlight, he tracked her. It was obvious from the broken branches
and smashed plants on the ground she’d run wildly through the underbrush. Even
a blind man could follow her trail.

Finally standing at the edge of the ravine, he froze.
Checking his compass, the realization of where he stood slapped him as if it
were an invisible hand to his face. Images from a night he wished he’d never
experienced flashed to life inside his brain. He and Fin had been camping not
far from this spot. He glanced over his shoulder in the general direction of
where Fin and the others camped and knew Fin picked that spot intentionally. If
it were a few hundred yards north, it would be the exact same campsite, their
favorite campsite.

The sensation of rolling downhill uncontrollably washed over
him. Sweat beaded his upper lip. His chest tightened, making it difficult to
breathe. In a drunken stupor, he’d wandered away from camp. At first, he’d
imagined he was tracking a massive buck with a prize trophy rack. The farther
he’d gotten from camp the more he’d lost his concentration and sense of
direction. The excessive amount of drink he’d consumed hadn’t helped. His
thoughts had muddled and his vision was unclear. He’d misstepped and the next
thing he knew he was at the bottom of the ravine.

Ass over teakettle, he’d flipped, slid and rolled, hitting
everything in his path. He couldn’t say how long he’d lain on the ground before
he’d realized he needed to get up. Nothing made sense. All he could figure out
through the ale-confused fog wrapped around his brain was that he had to climb
to get back to camp. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t remember the
exact details of how he’d ended up in the cave.

He just had.

Images of him on his back with some strange,
ancient-looking, transparent dude hovering over him sent an ice-cold chill
through his veins. Even now he shivered from the strength of the memory.
Staring down toward the ravine made him dizzy so he stepped back several feet.
He needed to pull himself together. His newfound friend Lynn needed him. But he
knew it would be foolish to go over the edge in the dark. One slip and it could
mean a broken neck and what good would he be to her then? How would he help her
if he were dead?

Oh god. Was she dead? He returned to the edge. Holding on to
a tree for support he pointed the beam of his flashlight into the darkness. A
definitive skid mark stood out, marking her descent. He swallowed hard against
the lump in his throat and prayed for her safety. He needed to think this
through and plan his next step in finding her. Travis scanned the night sky and
knew sunrise was several hours away and from the pattern of dark clouds in the
distance, a storm was on the horizon. Damn. He’d have to hurry.

What he needed was a way to scale the side without falling.
Then it hit him. Lynn had been tied with a rope that she’d removed when she
relieved herself. He’d seen the rope and knew she had to be the one tied to it.
From her position behind the bush, he knew what she was doing and had given her
some privacy until she was finished and started to run. Thinking back, he
wished he’d approached her differently. She was scared and hadn’t realized it
was him who had his arm around her and his hand over her mouth. Travis
regretted that move.

He took off his pack and hid it. Without it, he could make
better time back to the rope. His only hope was that it was forgotten and still
lay where it had been dropped. The closer he got to their campsite, the louder
the voices became. Fin was the object of their anger. They hadn’t found the
woman and it was all Fin’s fault, because he was supposed to be their expert
guide.

Travis worked his way closer and remained hidden as he
watched. Fin sat quietly on a rock, taking the verbal abuse from one of the
men. The man yelling lifted his hand as if he were going to smack Fin. That got
a reaction out of Fin. He sprang to his feet and leveled the man with a solid
two-handed shove to his chest. Before the guy could move, Fin was on top of him
with his knee in his stomach and his collar fisted tight, lifting the man’s
shoulders several inches from the ground.

“Don’t you ever try to strike me again. It will be your last
mistake.” Fin shoved him hard against the dirt as he stood. Staring down at the
man, he spat, “We start the hunt again at first light. I told you these woods
swallow people whole at night.” He stomped toward his tent. Travis made sure
only Fin saw him for a split second then melded into the darkness again. Fin
looked over his shoulder and in an ominous tone added, “There’s creatures out
there that feed on human flesh. If’n I was you, I’d seek shelter before they
find you.”

Taking his cue from Fin’s words, Travis made a horrific
growling sound low in his throat and threw a rock into the bushes behind the
campsite. Fin disappeared into his tent. The other two couldn’t move fast
enough, stumbling over each other to get into their tent. It was all Travis
could do not to break out laughing at the sight. As soon as Fin appeared at
Travis’ side with his gear in hand, they hurried away from the campsite, but
not before Travis gathered the rope.

“I sort o’ found Lynn,” Travis stated the second they were
far enough away to not be heard.

“What do you mean, sort o’?”

“She went over the ledge into the ravine. I needed the rope
ta follow her.”

“Damn,” Fin replied on a hurried breath as they increased
their pace.

They had to find her and somehow do it before the other two
grew a set of balls and came out of their tent. They reached where he’d stowed
his pack just as the skies opened up. Driving rain and high winds caused them
to seek shelter.

Luck was definitely not on their side or Lynn’s at the
moment.

* * * * *

Lynn woke to the sound of rain, yet she was dry. A fuzzy
sensation tickled her nose. Warmth cocooned her, making her feel safe. Prying
her eyes open, she came to the sudden realization she was covered with a
blanket. She bolted upright, letting the blanket drop to her lap as she stared
wide-eyed at it. It appeared to be an animal skin of some sort. She was
guessing deer maybe. It was soft to the touch. But she had no idea where it
came from.

Slowly, she stood. Every ounce of her balked in rebellion
and made her feel a hundred years old. Lynn stretched and turned then stopped
as she realized her location. The mouth of a cave had been her shelter from the
elements. If she hadn’t been so worn out and it hadn’t been the dead of night,
she might have found this and slid farther in for more protection rather than
lain in the opening. She stepped through the entrance. Lynn walked several feet
then came to an abrupt halt.

An apparition stood in her path. Clear as day, she saw him.
The ghost stood a few inches taller than she, wearing the garb of an ancient
Scotsman. He wore a knee-length kilt, knee-high boots, a long-sleeved shirt
tied together in the front with a neatly woven string and a sash wrapped around
him from his left shoulder to his right hip. He had the essence of a proud
warrior, which exuded in the air around him. At first sight, she thought he was
the sexy visitor from her dreams, but as she studied him further, she realized
he wasn’t.

Excitement stirred to life and filled her with warmth. She
hadn’t been wrong to follow Travis on this hunt for a ghost named Jasper. Right
before her stood the chance she’d been waiting for, the opportunity to learn
how to communicate with the spirit world. In all of her adventures to haunted
locations with her late husband, she’d never spoken with a ghost. She’d only seen
or felt them. Her stomach churned. Maybe now she’d discover how to locate and
speak with Eddie.

Deciding there couldn’t be two caves in the area with a
ghost inhabitant, she took a chance. Lynn gathered a smidgeon of her Texan
charm, extended her hand and did her best not to sound scared. The sight of her
dirty hand made her realize she must look a bit worn as she absently rubbed her
hands on her muddy jeans, patted her unruly curly hair then extended her hand
again.

“You must be Jasper.” She held her breath and hoped he’d
communicate with her.

If she surprised him with her statement, it didn’t show in
his expression. He floated around her, studying her from head to toe. Cool air
swirled, engulfing her, making her shiver. She dropped her hand to her side since
he didn’t seem to have any intention of shaking it. He took a stance of
intimidation with his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread hip distance
apart and a stern look upon his face.

“How do ye know mi name?”

Lynn relaxed, letting go of the breath she held. Excitement
made her heart pound. Somehow she’d ended up where she was supposed to be. Call
it dumb luck. Call it anything you like. She found Jasper and the cave that
Travis was supposed to be taking her to visit. Travis hadn’t lied to her after
all.

“I’m Lynn,” she said, hoping to start a conversation with
him. Questions scooted excitedly through her head at a rapid rate. This was her
first actual ghost-to-person discussion. She breathed deep, doing her best to
focus and slow the whirlwind of need-to-knows from confusing her thoughts. A
step forward made Jasper float backward, keeping a safe distance between them.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m a friend of
Travis.”

It looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders
when he spoke. “Where is Travis? How did ye find mi without him?”

Not sure what she should say, she carefully chose her words.
“Travis and I started this trip to see you together but we got separated. I
fell and slid down into the ravine. It was only when I tried to climb back to
the top that I landed on what I thought was a ledge. I didn’t know it was your
cave until now.”