The Legend Mackinnon (33 page)

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Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: The Legend Mackinnon
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“No. But I was trying to convince him to stay. We need to stay here. I can feel it.”

She fiddled with her napkin. “So, what can I do in all this?”

“I’m not sure. I just knew I had to meet you, see you, talk to you. I can’t buy the land, Delaney. I don’t have the money, either. But you can’t sell it. I mean, to just anyone.” She leaned forward and laid her hand over her cousin’s. “Would you consider talking to Rory? He’s never cared who owned the paper to the land, he has sort of different opinions on ownership and things like that. But I think he might change his mind now.”

“After what went on upstairs you want me to offer to sell it to him?” She snorted.

“Please?”

Delaney scowled.

“Believe me. It will be just as humbling for him to admit he wants to own it in the eyes of the law as it will be for you to back down on your word and offer it to him.”

“He has the money?”

Cailean nodded. “I don’t think that is a problem for him. I don’t know how long it would take to get his hands on it. I’m, uh, not sure of his banking methods.”

Delaney opened her mouth to comment, then shut it again and slowly shook her head. “This is all starting to sink in now. I’m the truly crazy one.” She laughed. “Okay. Maybe we can work something out.”

Cailean beamed. “You won’t be sorry, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you don’t know if you can keep,” she warned, but she was smiling too. They sat in silence for a moment or two, then Delaney said, “You know, I’m not so sure I can just sell the land and walk away.”

Alarmed, Cailean said, “What?”

“I mean, I
have
to sell it, I can’t keep it, that’s not what I mean. But I’m involved in this now, and I can’t simply walk away and ask you to drop me a postcard and let me know how it all works out. I want to help you with the hunt. And I want to meet Maggie. We need to work on getting her over here. It makes sense, doesn’t it? The three remaining Claren women? And Duncan, too. We have to reunite the brothers. Oh God, does he look like Rory?”

There was a sudden commotion at the door.

Cailean’s heart stopped and a tingle crawled down her spine. This time it wasn’t dread. It was pure unadulterated excitement.

“You be the judge,” she said to Delaney, whose head had turned with the rest of the diners.

Maggie and Duncan burst past the poor desk clerk and invaded the restaurant.

Her cousin’s eyes bulged. “Dear Lord have mercy,” she breathed.

Grinning, Cailean got up from her chair. “Do they look like brothers to you?”

T
WENTY-SIX

R
ory heard the rumbling voice all the way upstairs and froze.
It couldn’t be
.

“Duncan,” he breathed.

His anger at the Claren women disappeared and emotion coursed through him, making his eyes burn and his heart clutch. He stormed to the door and took the stairs like a warrior descending to battle.

Only no battle lay in wait for him this time, except perhaps the battle for his composure. He was shaking so badly he almost tripped over his own feet as he skidded around the last landing. He felt laughter at his own clumsy idiocy bubble up in his throat and was startled by the sound. It was … joyous.

“Where is she, lad? Surely in a place this size it canno’ be too hard to find one woman.”

Rory found himself halting on the last step as his brother’s voice boomed from the doorway just around the corner in front of him.

This was ridiculous, this … fear. Yes, it was fear. Absolute terror. She’d said he was a spirit, yet his brother sounded quite mortal. His beloved brother.

He stepped into the front parlor and had to brace his knees at the sight before him. Duncan, in his full kilted glory, stood in the doorway to the restaurant where he was presently terrifying the hostess. It brought a smile to his face. Spirit he might be, but he hadna changed so much.

There was a woman next to him that was no doubt Maggie Claren. She had the look of Mairi, she did. Eerie it was.

Duncan went to push past the young woman, who was well beyond speech at this point, when Rory finally found his voice. “Duncan.” It was no shout. It was hardly more than a hoarse rasp of a word, but it was all he could manage. Yet his brother heard it.

Duncan stilled, then turned slowly. His expression turned from angry determination to stunned disbelief. “It canno’ be,” he whispered. He stared, as he took one step, then faltered to a stop. His voice broke. “Rory?”

His eyes swimming now, it was all Rory could do to nod.

A grin split his fierce features as Duncan let loose a war whoop that had several patrons scattering toward the door. It made Rory laugh. It was that exact moment he knew this was real. Better than real. This was goddamn fantastic.

“John Roderick MacKinnon!” The name rang from his brother’s lips like a royal herald. Arms wide, he covered the distance between them.

Rory met him midway, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shoulders. They held on, laughing while tears coursed unashamedly down their cheeks.

Duncan finally grabbed a fistful of Rory’s hair and yanked him off. “Hardly enough fer yer enemies to take,” he commented calmly, as if weeks, not centuries had passed since they’d spoken.

Rory laughed, choking on his tears, and retaliated with a hard right to Duncan’s midsection. Pain sang up his arm.
He’d never felt anything so goddamn wonderful in his whole wretchedly long life.

“Enough for the likes o’ you. Now let me go, or did ye intend tae snatch me bald headed?”

Duncan released him. “What in the devil are ye wearin’, Rory MacKinnon? Where’s yer plaid, mon?”

“I fear I’ve changed with the times. It’s cold tending sheep in November wearin’ naught but a skirt.”

“A sheep farmer? Och, but I believe They have conspired a worse afterlife for you than even for me. What horrible thing did ye do tae earn such a wretched existence as that? Sheep.” He laughed as he wiped his eyes, then clasped Rory in another hug. “Dear heaven what happened to ye, brother. Are ye haunting the mounds of Stonelachen?”

“I’m no spirit, Duncan.” Rory stepped back and ran his gaze over his brother, drinking in the incredible sight. “Christ, ye look like yer goin’ tae battle, Dunc. Dinna they let ye change yer kilt in heaven?”

“Ye incorrectly assume I ascended that high,” he responded easily.

“Well, I doubted the devil would let ye out of hell on good behavior.” Rory was having a hard time truly comprehending the sight before him. Despite his own supernatural state of being, he had a difficult time stretching his beliefs to the afterlife. Yet, here stood the proof. Sweet mercy.

Duncan’s smile faded along with his. “How are ye here, Rory?”

“ ’Tis a long story, brother.”

“Time is no’ something I have a tremendous lot of.”

“Then we are in opposite places, brother, for time is all I have.” Rory’s attention was caught by the sight of Cailean. She had broken away from an animated discussion with her two cousins and was headed toward him.

Duncan followed Rory’s gaze to Cailean and grunted. “I see ye’ve met the Claren witch.”

Rory opened his mouth to defend Cailean, then shut it. The instinct to protect had been strong and instant. He shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to pledge a bond between them privately, he wasn’t so certain he was ready to proclaim the odd union to anyone else, most especially Duncan. “Aye, that I have,” he answered, his attention still on Cailean. Her hair had somehow come unbraided. It struck him hard in the gut. He had flashing images of all that golden glory, spread on his pillow, sifting through his fingers, spread across his chest. She came to stand beside him.

“I see ye’ve more than met,” Duncan observed quietly.

“We share a common purpose,” Rory said evenly.

Cailean’s skin had turned a delectable shade of pink, but he found himself silently applauding her for maintaining eye contact with Duncan. Not an easy task, even for him.

“Rory and I have met, yes,” she said. “Several times in fact.” Her gaze shifted to encompass Maggie, who’d come to stand beside him. Delaney stood just behind her. “You wouldn’t have a problem with that, would you?”

Rory would have laughed if he’d thought he could escape his brother’s quick retaliation.

“Ye think this is hilarious do ye, younger brother?”

Sharp as ever, Duncan was. “We might be able to work up a good argument over exactly who’s the younger now.”

Delaney stepped forward and held out her hand. “Nothing like being a fifth wheel. I’m Delaney Claren.”

Duncan’s eyes narrowed and he looked warily at her hand, then grunted when Maggie elbowed him in the side. He reached for Delaney’s hand.

Rory’s smile turned to a scowl. “I’d be careful with that one.”

Delaney favored him with an even bigger smile, which Rory returned with a cool nod. “I only defend myself when
pushed.” She turned her charm on Duncan. “Be nice. I almost threw my back out with that one.” She nodded at Rory.

Duncan looked suspiciously at her hand, then at Rory. “What did she do tae ye?”

Rory felt four pairs of eyes shift toward him. It mortified him, but he actually felt his cheeks darken.

Cailean rescued him by saying, “Rory, I don’t believe you’ve met my other cousin. Maggie Claren, Rory MacKinnon.”

“About whom I expect a full explanation later,” Maggie said to her cousin. She smiled at Rory. “You have no idea how thrilled I am to meet you.”

Rory could have kissed Cailean right on the spot for her timely intervention, which only unsettled him further. He didn’t need a Claren to protect him. A partnership they shared, but he’d intended to control it. He now acknowledged that intent for the fantasy it was.

He scowled, but shook Maggie’s hand. “Aye.”

Duncan grunted and gave Delaney’s hand a quick shake as well.

“There, now we’ve all made nice,” Delaney said.

Maggie laughed. “Why don’t we see if there is somewhere to sit and talk privately.” She motioned with her eyes to the room behind them. The patrons all had their full attention glued to the little tableau in the doorway.

“Yes, why don’t we,” Cailean said quickly. “There’s a small parlor across the foyer for hotel guests. The clerk said it’s usually deserted this time of year.”

In silent agreement, and to the not so silent dismay of the restaurant patrons, they moved to the empty parlor.

The petite Chippendale style settees and chairs looked like dollhouse furniture when compared to the MacKinnon men pacing around them.

Cailean, Maggie, and Delaney sat down as Duncan started a fire in the small fireplace.

“Now he feels better,” Maggie said. This earned her a swift glare from Duncan, which Cailean noticed only deepened the adoring expression on her cousin’s face. Uh oh, she thought. She’d known there was a strong attraction between them, but she feared it had gone much further than that.

And yet she could hardly criticize. She found her gaze straying to Rory, who was handing wood and kindling to his brother. Muscles that had been aching only hours before quivered quite deliciously. But it was the heart that dipped and fluttered in her chest that proved the real truth. No, she absolutely could not criticize when it came to matters of the heart.

“So,” Delaney said brightly, “this is quite the reunion.”

Maggie looked at Cailean. “Does she know?”

Cailean nodded as Delaney laughed. “She knows,” Delaney said. “She’s not sure why she believes, although when you look at those two, anything seems possible.” She sighed lustily. “They just don’t make men like that anymore.” She turned her gaze back to her cousins. “So, what do we do next?”

“Lachlan left her the land that the MacKinnons and Clarens fought for,” Cailean told Maggie. “Did you read the journals?”

“The ones that dealt the most with the time period. I brought those with me and read them on the plane.” Her gaze darted away. “When I wasn’t dealing with that one in a plane for the first time.”

“We’ll have to hear that tale,” Delaney said, then caught Duncan glaring at them as he moved around the furniture. “Perhaps later,” she said with a wink.

Duncan scowled then joined Rory by the windows.

Cailean turned Maggie’s attention back to them. “Delaney has to sell the land.”

“Oh no!”

Delaney winced at Maggie’s instant horror. “I know, I
know, but I can’t afford it. But I think we found a solution.”

“What?” Maggie asked, immediately hopeful.

“Rory,” Cailean said.

“He wants to buy it? That’s great! Speaking of Rory, explain,” Maggie said.

Cailean glanced at the brothers, both of whom had stepped to the other side of the small parlor and were deep in conversation. Her heart swelled at the emotions so clear on their faces as frequent hugs and back slaps, along with the occasional laugh punctuated their reunion.

“Kaithren cursed him,” she said softly, then went on to explain the rest of the story. “I’m the key to the curse, Maggie,” she finished. “All of it. His, mine, and the clans. We have to find the key Lachlan wrote about and figure out how to use it.”

“I’m not sure what he thought it might be,” Maggie said.

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