Alexander: A Highlander Romance (The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Book 36) Read online

  He stared into her eyes instead, which turned out to be just as dangerous. Was she truly this beautiful or was it just his centuries without having a woman so near when he was flesh and blood once more?

  She apologized as she hurried away from him, jumping into an especially dangerous looking automobile. He felt a surge of panic for her safety, but it was drowned out by confusion when she waved toward her house.

  “Eat what you want and don’t let Kevin climb on the bookshelves.”

  And she was gone, zooming away, the wretched car belching smoke from its hindquarters. He continued to stare after her, about to move on to the next house for directions, when a small hand clutched his.

  “You’re supposed to be watching me,” a small boy said, peering up at him through round spectacles.

  He had a black tricorn hat with a skull and crossbones on the front perched atop shaggy golden hair. The lovely woman’s son? And she’d just left him alone? But wait. Did the lad just say he was supposed to be watching him? He’d never met her and he certainly didn’t know what to do with the wee urchin.

  “Was that your mother?” he asked. Was it too late to go after her?

  “No, it was my midship-woman,” the boy said, completely serious. “But she deserted. Now I’m left with you. You ever steered a ship? Can you tie a knot?”

  “Are ye Kevin, then?” he asked, still a bit stunned.

  The boy sighed deeply. “That’s Captain Kevin, if you please.”

  Conall bellowed a laugh. The lad was quite charming in his small, serious way. The laugh felt good. Better than good. And it must have stirred something in his stomach that he barely recognized after so long.

  “Well, Captain Kevin, your deserter midship-woman said I could eat what I wanted. And I find myself hungry. Is this why your crew has all left ye? Ye starve them?” Conall shook his head in mock dismay.

  Kevin looked at him with a furrowed brow for a long moment then burst into a gap-toothed smile.

  “You are fun,” he said, pulling Conall toward the house. “Can you make a grilled cheese? I say, have you ever been in a battle?”

  Conall shook his head at the disparate line of questioning. “I have been in many battles, laddie. I can tie a knot or two as weel, but I’ve never steered a ship and I dinna know what a grilled cheese is.”

  Kevin pulled him into the house. The halls were lined with boxes and they squeezed past them to the kitchen. There was a table and two chairs, a few pots and pans in the sink and more boxes everywhere else.

  “We just moved here a few days ago,” the child explained, breaking character for the first time. “And I’m certainly not allowed to use the stove, so take a look and see what you can make. Or else it’s cold cereal. Again.” He pulled a face and shuddered. “I am so sick of Weetabix.”

  “Where did ye move from, lad?” Conall stuck his nose in the pantry and cupboards, pulling out items he thought might fry up well together.

  “London.” Once again the boy sighed deeply. “I’m afraid I’ll be teased for talking different.”

  “Ah, then ye can copy me and be as Scottish as ye like in no time.” He turned from cracking eggs into the pan and winked at the lad.

  Kevin grinned and owlishly blinked both eyes in return. “Did I do it? Wink?”

  “Nay, ye didna do it.” Conall winked the left eye then the right, showing off a little but thoroughly enjoying himself. He’d taught wee Soni to wink when she was just a babe. “Concentrate on only the one eye.”

  After much contorting, Kevin got his right eye to snap shut without the other one following suit. He strutted around the kitchen winking at each box, bowing and introducing himself to them. He was an odd little thing, and with an air of loneliness about him. Talking to boxes as if they were his friends. But he’d make real friends when he started up school. Unless the wee buggers made fun of him for being English.

  “Here now lad, have some of this.”

  He dumped half his egg and bacon scramble onto a plate, added a few sliced potatoes onto the side for garnish and then filled his own plate.

  “This is bloody marvelous,” Kevin said around a mouthful.

  “Mind your tongue and dinna speak with your mouth full,” Conall said mildly. “But thank ye for the compliment.”

  “Thank ye for the food, First Mate,” he replied after he dutifully swallowed his food.

  “I’ve been promoted, have I?”

  Kevin nodded, back to the full seriousness of his game. “You’ve earned it. I hope you weren’t lying about your combat experience because we’re going to be facing some formib-formid— scary foes.”

  Conall smiled at the lad. How could he feel so comfortable here with this child, whose mother had so strangely thrust into his care? He couldn’t wait until the mother got home so he could see her again, perhaps get her to smile and laugh. But for the time being, he was having a lovely time with the laddie.

  “Ye dinna know the half of it,” Conall said. “I’ve faced many a formidable foe and never turned tail. I shall fight admirably by your side, to the death if I must.”

  He’d said some similar words many years ago and they’d been true back then as well. He had a good feeling this day would turn out quite a bit better than the last, though.

  Chapter 2

  Mia parked in a small parking lot behind a hair salon and walked up the high street to the historical gallery. It wasn’t a large or long high street but she was surprised to find a cute bookstore and what looked like a really nice restaurant.

  She’d been told by her new neighbor Evie that there was a brand new library as well. The village was tiny, but because of the castle and the historical camp, she supposed it attracted enough tourism to keep it booming.

  The gallery was a large, open space with offices at the back. She took a moment to calm her nerves and look around. Even though she’d gotten a late start, she still had a few minutes before she had to dazzle.

  There was a group of women in long dresses and more men in kilts gathered around a table where a presentation of some sort was going on. Pleased to see more men in kilts and that her babysitter wasn’t off his trolley, she edged to the table and peered at the display of old-fashioned firearms.

  “Now, ladies and gentleman,” the presenter said, holding up a finely engraved pistol. “This here is a flintlock with a lemon butt.” He proudly turned the gun to show off the handle. “It’s quite rare and it wasn’t much used during our time period. This one here is a heart butt and it was much more popular.”

  Being the mother of a six-year-old boy, she had to stifle a giggle at the mention of various butts. The presenter also wore a kilt but was as English as beans for breakfast, which heartened her.

  She knew it was the twenty-first century and any bad blood these Highlanders might still carry should be long gone, but she didn’t want her boy to be ostracized when he started school.

  “I’m going to show you how to load all these pistols right now, then we’ll proceed out to the camp and learn to shoot them.”

  She sighed, thinking she could stand to learn how to shoot a gun, even if it was two hundred years old. And she really needed to find out if there was some kind of security system she could get installed at the new place. Maybe get a big dog.

  She shook her head to clear it from the increasingly fearful thoughts and remembered she had a job to get. She turned away from the scintillating display of various-butted firearms and saw her neighbor Evie walking toward her with a big sheaf of papers under her arm.

  “Are you here for the interview?” she asked without preamble. “Come on, I’ll take you back and introduce you to Padma. She’s nice once you get to know her.”

  Evie wrinkled up her nose and Mia wondered if there was some water under that bridge. She realized she’d only been in Castle on Hill for three days and she was already becoming nosy.

  The back offices had big windows so she could still see the entire museum and all its interesting and beautiful displays. It w
ould be nice to work there and she put on her biggest smile, praying she got the job.

  Padma was stunning, with long, glossy dark hair, flawless skin, and an impeccable outfit. Mia glanced at Evie, who was also gorgeous. Tall, with fiery red hair and curves for days. She felt shorter than usual and rather mousy being in the same room with such glamazons, but remembered it wasn’t a beauty contest, it was a job interview.

  Evie gave her an encouraging smile and tried to break the ice. “Mia’s my new neighbor, fresh up from London. She has a little boy. How old’s your son again, Mia?”

  “He just turned six,” she said, wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt. “He’ll start school this fall.”

  “She doesn’t look old enough to have a kid that old, does she?” Evie asked. Padma raised an eyebrow at her but she plowed on unaware. “Unless you were a teen mom,” she said jokingly.

  Mia felt her face heat up. “Er, yes, actually.”

  She’d been seventeen when her son was born, already regretting her hasty marriage, but not knowing how she could raise him on her own. Not in such luxury, anyway. Gilded cages and all that. She thought she was long since past being embarrassed about it.

  Padma sighed. “You’ll have to forgive our Evie. She’s American.”

  Evie looked flustered, then shrugged. “Think how young you’ll be when he’s off to college.”

  “Yes, there’s that,” Mia said.

  Thankfully, Padma cleared her throat, signalling the start of the interview. Evie gave her an encouraging smile and left. Padma turned to her and motioned for her to have a seat across from her, then rifled through her thin resume.

  “Mommy gap?” she asked, without looking up.

  “Er, yes. I’ve been home with my son up until now. It’s really taught me how to multitask and use time management.” Blech, she sounded so stiff. “I have worked in a shop before, and I got my degree in website design while Kevin was a baby. It was online but...” she stopped, not knowing what else to say. She wasn’t there for a website design job.

  Padma looked up and smiled. “I think you might be a bit overqualified for the gift shop position.”

  “I don’t mind simple work,” she said hurriedly, hoping she didn’t sound desperate. Except she was desperate, so it was probably hard to hide.

  “Well, I do need someone for it, but would you mind doing both that and some minor website work? It actually might be quite major. Our site is atrocious but I haven’t yet got around to sorting it. I’m told it will bring in more visitors if it was more interactive.”

  “Oh, it definitely will. Most people get their information online now. I honestly wouldn’t know how else to get information about tourist attractions and such.”

  “So, let’s call it two positions, then,” Padma said. “I certainly can’t pay you the gift shop wage for the website work, and you can probably do a lot of the online stuff at home.”

  “Certainly,” Mia said, fighting joyous tears.

  She’d come for one part-time cashier job and she landed something in her actual, chosen field. It seemed like a small miracle. She’d secretly gotten that online degree so she wouldn’t be utterly useless if she ever made it out, but she never dreamed she’d be able to call herself a website designer.

  She gratefully shook Padma’s hand across her desk and took the papers she needed to fill out. Padma followed her out of the office and Evie pounced the moment they were three steps into the gallery. She widened her eyes questioningly at Mia and Mia nodded happily. Evie was a bit awkward and gossipy, but she clearly meant well and had a kind heart. And it might be fun to have a good gossip with her neighbor over tea now and again.

  “So, what brought you way up here to Castle on Hill?” Evie asked. “People ask me all the time so I’m glad to finally get to ask someone else.”

  Mia knew she’d be asked that question eventually. After all, she’d moved from bustling London to a remote Highland village. She couldn’t exactly say that she was hiding from her ex-husband and his noxious family, not to mention all their guard-dog lawyers.

  “Peace and quiet,” she answered. That was truthful enough.

  Just as she said it, a hubbub erupted near the front door. A tall young man with ginger hair burst in, frantically looking all around. He raced up to them, clasping his hands in front of his chest. Mia jumped back, certain he was about to roll right over her.

  “I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “Padma, it’s all my fault. If ye didna give her the job because she had to bring her wee lad with her, it’s all on me.” He paused to take a breath. “The golf cart threw a wheel and I had to run all the way from the goat field, then my car wouldna start so I had to find Mellie to borrow hers. I’m gutted I’m so late.”

  Mia noticed Evie’s eyes widen. “Shane, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  Mia’s heart skipped a beat at hearing the name. “Shane?” she asked.

  “Aye. I came here straight away when I knew how late I’d be. Did ye bring your lad with ye?”

  “You’re Shane?” Mia’s voice raised enough that the people at the gun demonstration looked over at her. She wasn’t worried about making a scene, though. Who was with her son? “You’re Shane? My babysitter?” She was shrieking now.

  “Aye, ma’am. I’m truly sorry.”

  For a split second everything went black. How did he find them so quickly? Or at all? She’d worked so hard to choose a place that was barely on a map. A small, quiet village where she and Kevin could go unnoticed. But he’d found them. And his goon was with her baby. They were probably on a plane by now and she’d never see him again.

  Everything snapped back to full, vivid color. It was as if her blood had slowed.

  “If you’re Shane, then who in hell is with my son?”

  She ran for the door, her legs feeling like they were plodding through molasses. Zipping past the gun presentation, she jerked to a halt. What if the goon was still there, hoping to bring both of them back? She would be damned if that happened. She eyed one of the guns, pretty sure it was the heart butt one. Snapping it up, she continued her race for the door.

  “Oi, that’s loaded!” the presenter yelled after her.

  “Good,” she muttered, already out the door and halfway to her car.

  Why had she parked down the street? Why did she think she got to take scenic strolls on nice summer days? She didn’t get to do things like that. Not with her madman ex-husband still living in the same world.

  Tossing the heart butt onto the seat beside her, she burned rubber out of the tiny parking lot, nearly dinging the car next to her. She barely saw anything beyond the blur of fear and rage until she got back to the house. An hour ago it had been her new safe haven. A place of hope.

  Grabbing the pistol, she glanced down at it, saw it had a thingy on top and a thingy underneath. Hadn’t she seen enough action films in her day to know how to fire a gun? If she had to, she’d beat the bastard’s head in with the heart butt of it. She prayed he’d still be there and that Kevin would be safe.

  At the last second she decided it would be safer not to burst in screaming and she slipped in stealthily instead. The house was quiet. Too quiet. Kevin was never silent, he was always muttering to his imaginary friends or noisily battling some invisible foe. Oh, the poor dear. How frightened he must be right now.

  “Kev,” she called quietly, tiptoeing past his room.

  Empty. His little sword lay in the middle of the floor and she saw another of her skirts was being used as a flag again. But no Kevin. Her room was empty as well, same as the bathroom.

  Crying in earnest now, she ran through the kitchen and stopped short to see the big, kilted man standing in the back doorway. He was so big he blocked out the light from outside and for a moment he looked as fearsome as the devil himself.

  “Where’s my son?” she screamed.

  He took a step forward and she raised the old flintlock pistol. Flicked the top thingy.

  “Whoa there, lassie,” he said, tak
ing another step toward her.

  She knew if she let him get the gun away from her it was all over. She’d be in the back of his van alongside Kevin, heading back to London.

  “Don’t move and tell me where Kevin is,” she shouted, her finger pressing on the bottom thingy.

  Oh, why didn’t she pay more attention to action films? Please let it work.

  He shook his head and took another step forward. “He’s—”

  Too close! If he reached out one of his long arms, he’d have the gun, have her. Her hands shook, her finger twitched. The gun seemed to explode, knocking her back onto her behind. Her ex’s goon flew backward as well, landing with a huge crash, half in and half out of the house.

  Kevin came running from the back garden, a ball in his upraised hand. “I got it back from next door,” he panted, skidding to a halt in front of the fallen man. “Bloody hell, Mummy, why did you shoot the babysitter?”

  Her eyes tried to roll back but she wrenched herself back to consciousness and sat up, hugging Kevin tight. She had to protect her son, possibly had to take care of a body. She needed to get it together.

  “Kevin, go to your room, darling,” she commanded.

  He looked mournfully at the big man sprawled in the open doorway. Good God, had the neighbors heard the shot? How could they not?

  “Why did you kill Conall?” Kevin sobbed. “He was so fun. He taught me to wink and tie a snitch knot.”

  What was this now? The man had been playing with him? Probably keeping him happy until she came home. Before she could tell him to go to his room again, a loud, long groan came from the doorway. Conall, if that really was his name, sat up, rubbing his chest.

  “It’s a hitch knot, lad. Verra useful.”

  Kevin squealed with joy and ran to him, flinging his small, thin arms around the massive shoulders.

  “You’re not dead. Oh, Conall, I’m so glad.”

  “It appears I’m no’ indeed.” He had the audacity to chuckle and Mia looked around wildly for the pistol. “It only shoots one at a time, lass,” he said to her with a wry smile. “But I swear ye’ve no reason to shoot me again, or the first time for that matter.”