HauntedLaird (3 page)

He seemed to study her as if trying to decipher whether she
spoke the truth or not. His chin tilted and his gaze softened. “Did ye rest
well?”

She glanced at the blanket and realized where it must have
come from. “Did you do that?”

He nodded then waved his hand, causing the blanket to float
into the cave. He dropped it onto a pile of assorted things.

“Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

“I could no let ye freeze, now could I? It would no be the
chivalrous thing ta do.” He said it in such a matter-of-fact way it almost made
her laugh. But that wouldn’t be polite so she swallowed it.

“Jasper, why is it you haunt this cave?” Lynn asked.
Deciding she would be less intimidating to him if she sat, she moved to the
closest large rock and took a seat. She wanted to gain his trust and learn why
and how he remained trapped between planes. Desperately she wanted to know if
there was a way to communicate beyond the veil with those who had passed into
the other realm.

He appeared hesitant to speak. He leaned against the wall
opposite from where she sat. “For o’er two hundred years I have called this
cave mi home. I swore an oath ta protect a friend.”

Jasper floated to stand at the mouth of the cave and
appeared to be watching the rain. Lynn moved to his side. The side nearest to
him was kept cool by his essence. She sensed a deep sadness within him. When
she tried to touch him and console him, her hand passed right through his arm
and it made her shiver for a second. She shook off the instant chill and
followed her train of thought.

“This friend,” she paused trying not to pry but needing to
know, “did you love this person?”

He didn’t answer her question. Instead he stood straight and
stiff. Without looking at her, he turned. “I have felt it on the wind. Nature
whispers ta mi about a change that needs ta come.”

When his gaze met hers, she read his loss and sensed his
desperation. Whatever was happening was not of his choosing.

“Come,” he said solemnly as he floated toward the rear of
the cave. “’Tis time ye met mi friend.”

Lynn followed without saying a word. A mismatched assortment
of lanterns flickered to life as he passed and she got the feeling he did that
for her. She doubted he needed the light to see where he was going. The rear of
the cave became three different sections. One went off to the left. There was a
huge middle opening. The third was to the right. Jasper hovered for a second
then turned to her.

His eyes closed and the most wonderful verse in an ancient
tongue left his lips. She listened but did not understand. Knowing she stood in
Scotland and he was from a time well past, he had to have been speaking Gaelic.
When his eyes opened, she swore she saw a single tear that disappeared
instantly.

“Jasper, that was beautiful,” she said breathlessly. “What
does it mean? I don’t understand the language in which you spoke.”

He smiled then cupped her face in his hands. There was no
actual contact. She only sensed his touch. Extreme cold penetrated all the way
to her core. When he spoke the words again, she understood.

“Thy quiet son awaits

Within a chamber deep

Safe an’ sound he shall sleep

’Tis a place he loved

High above thy game ravine

Never ta be seen

Sheltered from thy nature’s fury ’n a burrow o’ her
makin’

Lest ye nay be ’n a hurry

Three choices tease thee

Two be wrong

One be right

Choose well an’ set him free

Choose wrong an’ face thy wrath o’ mi.”

The cold left her body the moment he let go. The passage was
beautiful except for that wrath part at the end. That part made her take an
extra second before speaking again. He tried to hide it but she knew he held
deep feelings for the person he protected. Carefully she dissected each
sentence.

“Why did you hide the quiet son and who is he?”

She held his timid stare. When he spoke, she paid close
attention.

“Mi best friend, Padon MacKinnon, fell ta a curse. He and
his six
brathairs
were turned ta stone by an evil man carrying a black
book o’ dark magic. MacGillivray made a pact with the devil, he did. He placed
this curse then disappeared. When Akira, their
piuthar
—sister—discovered
a partial anti-curse, she feared for their safety. Rumors MacGillivray would
return and destroy the statues flourished. Akira took no risk with her
brathairs
.
She gathered everyone she knew her
brathairs
trusted and swore us ta a
task.”

He paused and she watched his face closely. This was a man
crippled with grief and guilt. Jasper sank onto a rock. He looked frail and
worn as if the weight of his world still rode on his shoulders.

“What kind of task?” Lynn asked quietly, hoping to help ease
his pain by talking.

“She gave each o’ us a
brathair
ta hide and protect.
We were ta write a riddle that gave clues ta their sanctuary and give it ta her.”

“That’s what you just recited for me,” she said. He nodded.

“She placed them in a diary. Nay but one person knew the
answers and it was not her. She did not want ta have both riddle and answer
together. It was up ta us ta pass it along ta a family member and swear them ta
secrecy should something happen ta us.” His shoulders sagged.

“Did you pass the answer to another?”

“Nay,” he replied in a somber tone. “I did not. I kept him
secret, giving only the riddle ta Akira.”

“Is it because you loved him that you did this?” Lynn must
have touched a nerve because he leapt to his feet.

“Padon was closer ta mi than a
brathair
.” His voice
shook as he spoke. His hand fisted over his heart. “’Tis mi fault this
happened. If’n I were there MacGillivray would not have gotten into the castle
and the curse would not have happened. Clan MacKinnon would not have ended in
such an evil manner.”

And there it was, the reason for his guilt. He blamed
himself for what happened to his friend and his family. Jasper floated upward,
spinning around as a horrific screech left him. Lynn covered her ears against
the din resonating off the walls. When she located Jasper levitating near the
ceiling, she knew from the sight of him he was a broken man when he died.

A man in love with another man. That must have been tough
during the time when he lived. Now it was more accepted, but back then, she
couldn’t be sure if they would have been ostracized for their actions. It was
something of which she had no knowledge. She didn’t doubt that love between men
happened throughout history. After all, the men of today didn’t invent it. They
just were apt to admit it more freely.

“Jasper, how can I help?” she asked in the most tender and
caring tone she could muster across the knot in her throat. This was a love
story that time forgot.

He floated down to face her. “Ye can set Padon free.” He
turned and waved a hand gallantly in front of all three openings. “Choose
wisely.”

With his hand fisted over his heart he stared directly at
her and waited. The pressure was on. Which did she choose and what would he do
if she chose incorrectly? Oh yeah. His wrath would fall upon her. Damn. Why
couldn’t this be simple with a bright-red flashing arrow pointing the way?

Bright. Red. Arrow.

Lynn glanced over her shoulder at Jasper. He hovered behind
her in a stoic stance with his hand still fisted over his heart. She turned
face forward and let the grin split her lips. He was practically broadcasting
where he’d hid his friend. She looked at the left, then the right and made her
choice. Shoulders lifted, back straight, she walked toward the left opening and
heard him hiss ever so lowly to the point if she wasn’t paying close attention,
she would have missed it. Not skipping a beat, she grabbed the lit lantern off
the ledge beside the opening then turned and marched directly into the center
tunnel.

Several feet in, the sound of running water whispered in the
air. Coolness filled each breath. Lynn held the light and took each step
carefully. After her harrowing experience down the side of the mountain last
night, she had no intention of misstepping again and ending up
lord-knows-where.

The ground was soft and moist, causing her boots to sink a
little. She swung the light around, inspecting the area. It seemed to be very
damp and wet and the sound of running water echoed even more loudly. After a
few more minutes, she reached a slight drop that appeared to be natural-made
steps. She tested each one before placing her full weight upon it. At the
bottom, she continued following the sound of the water.

She walked around a bend and a wondrous sight met her eyes.
A waterfall cascaded from the ceiling into a huge pool of water. Dimmed rays of
the rainy morning sun snuck in through holes here and there in the roof.
Nothing could ever be more pristinely beautiful. Untouched by anyone, preserved
by nature. Lynn spun around, taking it all in. Until she saw him.

Lynn hurried to the statue of a man tucked off to the side
in an alcove. She set the lantern on a rock and simply stared. He was the biggest
hulk of a man she’d ever seen. Dressed in only a kilt and nothing else. A pair
of large hands held a sword poised to strike. Strong legs held him in a lunge
position as if he’d started to attack but was halted instantaneously. Taut
muscles rippled his massive chest, abdomen and back. His mouth hung open. His
scream lost for eternity in time. The surprised anguish in his face tugged at
her heart.

Here was a warrior prepared to kill or be killed. Instead,
he’d been cursed.

She felt Jasper’s presence behind her. “Can ye help him?”
His voice came across as a whispered plea tearing at her heart.

“What can I do?”

Jasper floated to stand between her and the statue. “Ye must
speak the words o’ the anti-curse at the fall o’ night ta free him.”

“Why have you not done this?” Curiosity gripped her. If
there was a cure then why didn’t Jasper free him? There had to be a catch.

“In the words o’ Akira, ’tis only half a freedom.” He turned
to face the statue, lifting his hand to cup the distraught face of his friend. Lynn
dug deep to keep from crying at the sight. “Man by night and stone by day.
They’ve only now found a way ta free him completely.”

Lynn sniffed against the threat of tears. “They? Who are
they?”

Jasper returned his gaze to hers. “Akira and the
brathairs
who have been freed.”

Puzzlement made her brows purse and boggled her mind. If
there was a way to free him why hadn’t the others come here to help? Why did he
need her to do it? Staring at him, something hit her and she couldn’t believe
she hadn’t asked him earlier.

“Jasper, when did this curse occur?” He looked at her funny
as if confused. “What year did this MacGillivray recite this curse that froze
your friend in stone?”

“Seventeen hundred and forty.”

She stepped back and sank onto the nearest rock. Jasper had
been caught between dimensions for over two hundred years. Did he know what
year it was? Did he understand the concept of time?

“Milady,” Jasper stated as he curtsied. “I am aware o’ the
length o’ time I have stood guard. Mi only regret is that I did naught ta
prevent this from happening.”

Though it startled her that he seemed to have heard her
thoughts, she asked, “How did you find out it was time to set him free?”

“On occasion, I ventured ta Castle MacKinnon and hid and
watched, waiting for any word o’ how ta save him. I felt it was mi duty ta
watch o’er Akira as well.” A grin brightened his features. “The lass no be o’
need o’ help. She be a strong one and knew how ta handle this mess. But still I
accepted it as part o’ mi duty ta watch her from afar. On one o’ mi visits, I
was surprised ta see Gavin and Ian had been freed.”

He paused as if gathering his thoughts. “It stunned mi ta
see them in the light o’ day. I came back here ta think. I prepared ta question
Akira and returned. When I arrived, she had a visitor. The spirit o’ Mary
Campbell o’ Breadalbane had come in search o’ Akira. I lingered and listened ta
every word. The secret they shared be forever etched in mi memory.”

“This secret, will it set him free?” she asked even though
she suspected she knew the answer.

“Aye. But only at night. By day he will return ta stone. We
have ta get him ta Castle MacKinnon ta find out how ta free him completely.”

Lynn pursed her lips. Her gaze lingered on the statue. Was
this really a man frozen in time in a casket of stone? Did she believe the
story? She looked at Jasper and considered the source. She believed in ghosts
and now she’d actually had a conversation with one.

Yep, she decided. This story had merit. It had to be real.
Travis believed Jasper’s story so much that he’d convinced her to come here to
meet the ancient spirit. She smiled.

“I’ll help you set him free.”

Chapter Three

Ceum saor de clach

Be Ye Biast air duine

’Tis Gaol dara slighe

Ge Ye be mèinne

Dh’oidche mur dh’là

The words at first she thought were beautiful were now
giving her a pounding headache as she tried repeatedly to get them right.
Though Jasper worked diligently with her, she knew she tried his patience
because he disappeared several times for a matter of a second then reappeared at
her side. She guessed he needed a chance to gather his calm before continuing.
It had to be her Texas twang that kept twisting the enunciation and screwing it
up.

It annoyed her to a degree that every time she questioned
him about contacting the spirit world, he redirected the conversation. She
decided that if she did as he asked and learned the verse then maybe he’d be
more cooperative with what she wanted to know in return. She spent endless
hours with Jasper trying to learn the Celtic verse she needed to recite at
sundown.

Completely frustrated, Lynn snapped, “Why do you need me to
speak the words? Why can’t you do it?”

Jasper sat back. Sadness darkened his gaze. “Because I no
longer live.”

He disappeared and Lynn hated she’d asked him in such a
harsh manner. She concluded that a flesh-and-blood being had to speak the
anti-curse. When Jasper reappeared, she apologized.

“It be all right, lass. Ye be tired and the verse be hard
for one with no background in Gaelic.”

Lynn kept her voice even and polite as she asked another
question that had plagued her thoughts. “Why didn’t you have Travis speak it
when he found your cave? Why did you have him bring me here to meet you?”

“In Padon’s case, the curse need be spoken from a woman’s
tongue.”

“In Padon’s case, a woman’s tongue,” her brow pursed as she
questioned him, “what do you mean by that?”

When her stomach growled loudly, it gave Jasper an excuse
not to explain and to change the subject. Jasper apologized profusely for being
an unforgivable host for not providing sustenance for his guest. He’d shown her
to the collection of knapsacks and assorted camping and spelunking equipment
he’d compiled scaring people out of the cave over the centuries. She plundered
through several of the more modern backpacks and acquired pre-packaged airtight
meal rations, a cup and a spoon.

The food wasn’t the tastiest, but it was sufficient to stave
her hunger. Drinking water from the fresh underground stream helped wash down
the rations. Lynn sat quietly, soaking her feet in the cool water and staring
at the statue.

Was he alive in there? Could he hear them? Did he know they
were there? These were questions she stored away to ask him once he was free
from his stone prison.

Lynn shrugged off her shirt, stood and shimmied out of her
jeans. In her bra and panties, she rinsed the mud from her clothes then laid
them over a rock to dry. Though she’d washed up some earlier, she desperately
needed to cleanse away more of the grime from her fall. She hesitated when she
reached around to unhook her bra.

“Jasper, if you can here me,” she called out, “I’m going to
take a bath.”

His words whispered down to her. “Ye privacy I shall
respect.”

A smile cracked her lips. He was the most polite man—umm,
ghost—she’d ever met. Even though she knew she wasn’t his type, he’d let her
know he wouldn’t peek. After removing her undergarments, rinsing them and
laying them to dry with her other clothing, she stepped into the water. Out of
the corner of her eye she spied something drifting down the stairs. Surprised,
she turned, thinking it was Jasper, but instead it was a towel, washcloth and a
bar of soap.

“I found these in a pack and thought ye could use them.” His
voice floated to her ears as the items landed on the ground near the water.

“Thank you,” she said, knowing he heard her without her
having to raise her voice. She scooped the soap and the washcloth into her hand
and walked farther into the deeper middle of the stream where it formed a
significant pool.

The water was cold but refreshing to her tired muscles. She
dunked under, soaking every inch, making sure she wet her hair. Rigorously she
lathered her tangled mess of curls, trying her best to rid it of the debris it
gathered in her fall. From the amount of tiny twigs and leaves she removed, she
bet she looked more like a wild animal than a woman and wondered why Jasper had
even spoken to her at all. Lynn laughed. Jasper wasn’t looking at her as a
woman but as a means to free the love of his life. She doubted seriously it
would have turned him on in the least if he’d watched her bathe.

She wasn’t the proper gender to be his type. Lynn smiled,
feeling relaxed and strangely safe for the first time in hours. Due to the
thickness of her hair, she was having difficulty rinsing the soap out. Seeing
the pulsing cascade of the waterfall, she decided to use it like a shower in
hopes of removing the resilient suds. Lynn swam over and hoisted herself onto
the ledge and stood behind the waterfall. After slipping and sliding a bit, she
managed to gain a foothold as she leaned back against the rock wall.

She looked through the thinnest area of the waterfall and
focused on the statue. Light from the menagerie of lanterns Jasper had provided
shone on the stone surface, giving it an oddly beautiful appeal. Lynn felt
compelled to speak the verse as she stood in the mist of the falling water.

“Ceum saor de clach

Be Ye Biast air duine

’Tis Gaol dara slighe

Ge Ye be mèinne

Dh’oidche mur dh’là”

Seeing nothing happen, a slight bit of disappointment filled
her. She took a breath and leaned her head into the more rapid pulse of the
waterfall and rinsed the suds from her hair and body. Lynn stepped back from
the stream, brushing the hair and water from her eyes. The moment she regained
her focus, she froze. The gasp lodged in her throat.

Was she dreaming?

When he woke, the realization he was no longer at Castle
MacKinnon hit him in the chest with an invisible solid blow. What happened?
Where was he? And most importantly, where was his family?

Padon stumbled forward with his sword held tightly, ready to
strike. MacGillivray was behind this. He felt most certain that dark-eyed devil
lingered near. He swung around, trying to gain his bearings. Shock shook him to
the core as he recognized his surroundings.

He was in the hunting cave. But how? Last he remembered he
was aiming to kill MacGillivray for attacking his
brathairs
. Padon
surveyed the area for any signs of life, knowing only he and Jasper knew of
this cave’s location. Jasper had to be behind his being here.

He shook his head. Had it been a dream? Try as he might he
couldn’t remember clearly what had happened. Had he been on a hunting trip with
Jasper, drunk too much and dreamed the whole
brathairs
-turned-to-stone-by-MacGillivray
scenario? The tension in his chest eased a tad but not entirely. He lowered his
sword and knelt by the stream, cupping some water for a drink, hoping to wash
away the severely dusty sensation from his mouth.

He had barely swallowed when he saw her. A vision most
beautiful stood washing her hair in the waterfall. ’Twas it a dream? He
splashed the water on his face and blinked but she still remained. How had she
gotten here? No woman had ever ventured into their hunting cave.

“Go to her. She is your salvation.”

The words whispered to his ears in the sound of his friend
Jasper’s voice. He jumped to his feet and spun around but didn’t see him.
Anger, confusion and fear mixed within him. What the hell was going on? What
sort of sorcery was this? Hearing voices but seeing no one… He slowly turned to
the vixen who now stood staring at him from the other side of the waterfall. No
one was here but her.

Maybe she had the answers he sought, since Jasper seemed to
be playing games with him.

Taking deliberate steps, he shortened the distance. Before
entering the water, he set his sword on a large rock and dropped his kilt to
the ground. No need getting his only clothing wet while he interrogated the
woman. He smiled inwardly, knowing he was no small man and being naked only
added to his intimidation strategy. At least that’s what he hoped when it came
to the weaker sex. Determined to get answers, he forged through the water and
onto the ledge.

Coming face-to-face with her rattled his fierce demeanor.
She was not simply a woman, but a gorgeous specimen of female flesh. Though she
tried to cover herself with her hands, she failed miserably. He doubted even
his oversized hands would hide those scrumptiously large breasts. Taut pink
nipples peeked from beneath the arm and hand that attempted to shield them.
Instant hunger pitted in his stomach for a sample of their flavor.

Her other arm and hand did their best to cover the treasure
between her thighs. It disappointed him to not get even a glimpse of her mound.
Would she balk if he removed her hand so he could see? Padon shook off the idea.
He needed answers, not sex. But his body pleaded otherwise as his shaft stirred
to life. The awakening of his senses kept him perusing her attributes and
muddled his thoughts with desire.

Though she was short in stature, she made up for it with her
incredibly voluptuous figure as far as he was concerned. If her bottom was
round and filled his hands, she’d be perfect. Absently he flexed his palms,
curling his fingers in and out as if he could somehow feel her there without
actually touching her. It didn’t help ease the growing tension in his bawls for
this woman. Being in her presence made him remember he was a man as his cock
twitched and stiffened even more.

Padon forced his gaze to lift from her assets and look upon
her face. Its shape was that of a cherubic angel. Auburn curls carelessly
framed her features. Her lips trembled and it pained him to read fear in her
bright-blue eyes. In an attempt to calm her, he reached to cup her cheek but
she leaned away from his touch. He dug deep to find his voice and hoped it came
across soothing.

“I will nay hurt thee, mi wee one. I only ask thee for
answers.”

* * * * *

Vigorously rubbing her eyes, she couldn’t believe what she
had seen squatting at the edge of the stream, drinking water. She shot a quick
look where the statue had been to find it missing. A pile of pebbles lay in its
spot. Cutting her eyes back to the gorgeous half-naked hunk, Lynn was
bewildered by this sudden turn of events. What time was it? She had no idea.
Had the sun gone down and night fallen while she was preoccupied with getting
clean?

In reality, she hadn’t been entirely convinced the curse
existed or that the partial anti-curse she’d struggled to learn would work.

Her eyes widened. The proof it was true stood and marched
toward the waterfall. It was obvious he saw her. Lynn’s heart pounded. What was
she going to do? Run? Scream? After an unsuccessful attempt to clear the knot
from her throat, she knew screaming was out. The closer he got the more her
insides twisted with excitement and fear. He looked like the man in her dream.
Tall, dark, handsome and ready to save the day.

Near the waterfall, he stopped, laid his sword down and
released his kilt, letting it slide to the ground. Lynn’s jaw dropped. He was
the epitome of pure male perfection. Thick biceps, a broad chest, ripped abs
tapering to a trim waist held up by a set of strong legs and a deliciously nice
penis centered between those muscled thighs. Realizing she stared at his cock,
Lynn felt warmth radiate in her cheeks and forced her eyes to lift. Heat seemed
to sizzle in the air as she caught his gaze with hers. The masculine shape of
his face, wide jaw, firm lips and the intensity of his blue-green stare made
her shiver.

The word perfect didn’t describe him well enough as far as
she was concerned. Damn. Somehow the man from her dreams had stepped from her
imagination and become a real person. He was one hot, drop-dead-sexy beast and
he was headed her way. Lynn struggled to cover up as best as possible.

The way he cut through the waterfall and lifted with ease
onto the ledge in front of her was like one of those extremely sensual TV
commercials, where the male model wore next to nothing, except in this case he
was naked. Lynn could barely breathe when he closed the distance between them. Beads
of water rolled down his glorious chest and it was all she could do not to let
her gaze follow its trail lower. It wouldn’t be polite to stare and even more
wrong to ogle his cock. She kept telling herself this, trying to control the
urge to examine him from head to toe again.

Yet politeness didn’t stop him. His ardent gaze caressed her
skin like a tender touch, sending chills across her flesh. Her nipples hardened
and she tried desperately to keep them covered but knew she failed from the
heated look in his eyes. She had to be reading him wrong. He belonged to
Jasper, or had she misunderstood him? Didn’t he say Padon needed a woman to
speak the anti-curse? Maybe he was bisexual? Lynn shook herself for even
wondering about his sexual likes, but it didn’t stop her pussy from tingling
under his avid scrutiny. The sight of his tongue darting across his lips when
his eyes lowered to the hand that covered her mound made her instantly wet.

She’d never reacted this strongly to anyone. But this wasn’t
just anyone. This was an overtly sexual ancient Scotsman who’d been wrongly
imprisoned for over two hundred years. If she thought going without sex for
three years was rough, she bet centuries without was horrific for someone as
gorgeous as he. Did his cock even work after having been asleep for so long?

She chanced a quick glance and was assured it was in perfect
working condition. It stood hard and proud, aimed straight at her. It took a
great deal of resolve to keep herself covered and not reach to touch such a magnificent
piece of male anatomy. She wasn’t even sure how she managed to hold her hands
in place. When he reached toward her face, it startled her and she flinched.