Chapter 21
Cian watched from deep inside the tree line while Matty chatted with a pair on a snow machine.
He could tell by her movements she was trying to get them to leave her be, but they were stubborn.
She glanced his way once, then continued to look around her so as not to draw attention to him, and for that, he was grateful.
Finally, she shook her head and let her shoulders fall.
The driver spoke one last time, and the machine sped off. After the sound of it faded, Matty looked once more in his direction…and waited.
He knew she wanted a final farewell, but perhaps their parting was better this way.
Silent. Quick. With no chance for tears, no chance for awkward blethering.
And so he stood there, foolishly looking on, doing nothing to soothe the pain when he so easily could have had one more look into her eyes, one more loving word. One last kiss.
Finally, she turned her skis toward town and dug in her poles. He watched her go, felt each glide of those skis as if they were a pair of blades sliding in and out of his heart, over and over, so sharp there was little resistance.
If he started now, he would be back home before anyone noticed the Ghost of Glenmore was in the area. If he took his time, kept to the woods, and kept his head clear, Matty Gaines would be on an airplane and headed back to America before he could do something foolish.
Like change his mind.
Just before she moved beyond his vision, he whispered, “I should have shown ye the library…”
The row of buildings still seemed a mile away when a tall police vehicle with massive tires rolled halfway across a snowy field to greet me. The two officers asked me first if I needed medical attention—I didn’t—then insisted on escorting me into town.
The driver tilted his head to the side. “The Cairngorm Hotel has offered ye a room on the house for as long as it takes for ye to recover, Ms. Gaines.”
“I have a room at the Balavoulin, if you want to take me there. I assume they still have my stuff.”
“Nae worries. We’ll collect it and bring it to the Cairngorm. It’s got more space, aye? A reception center and the like.”
I couldn’t imagine why that mattered. “That’s awfully nice of them.”
“Not a’tall. Good for advertisin’, and all that.”
“Advertising?”
The other officer winked at me. He was bursting with excitement and couldn’t sit still. “The news of yer rescue will draw quite a crowd.”
“My…rescue?”
“The Martin kids who found ye on their skidoo.”
“Oh, right.”
The driver found me in his rearview. “Sure but a news crew will show up tonight.”
The other one shrugged. “Aye, well, we havenae thrown a rescue party all year. It’s bound to be a hoachin’ hoolie.”
A hoachin’ hoolie. It was probably exactly what it sounded like. A big party to celebrate the rescuers. I was just the excuse to throw it.
I thought about it during the short drive and realized the Martin kids might have a really great story about how they’d rescued me. And if I was smart, I’d find them before I talked to anyone about what had happened after I got lost in the storm—to get our stories straight.
Then I wouldn’t have to make one up.
But before I worried about any of that, I needed to find out how far it was from the Cairngorm to the local Armory.
When we hit the main road, we turned right, away from the row of buildings Cian and I had been headed for. I wanted to ask for a ride to the armory, but they’d have wanted to know why. And in my panic, moving farther and farther from Cian, I couldn’t think of a thing!
I figured we’d gone about three miles before we finally pulled into the parking lot of the hotel. And though I should have been eager for a hot shower and a chance to catch my breath, all I wanted was to go back to that field and lie about who I was.
I wondered how much jail time would be required, in Scotland, for stealing a police car…
I thought Cian had been hard to understand…
I caught less than half of what the hotel manager had to say after I was escorted through the parking lot and into the busy lobby.
The police left me in his hands, very dramatically, by the way, for the benefit of those looking on.
I’m sure he introduced himself, because he shook my hand in there somewhere while he chatted away.
Another man nodded to me and said he was putting my skis in a storage locker before taking them from the officer who’d carried them inside. And as the manager led me up the stairs, people took turns shouting at me. All of it kind.
“Welcome home!” Like I had lived there all my life.
"Help ma Boab!" Not a clue.
"Glad ye're still wi' us!"
"Ye gave us a right gliff!"
"Gaun yersel!"
"Glad ye're still wi' us!"
“Someone get a dram intae her!”
The last made everyone laugh.
On the second floor, my host said something about me being too something to climb another flight of stairs. He unlocked a door and led me inside a spacious room with a turret in the corner. A charming sanctuary. A space I could catch my breath in.
In the turret, the circular walls felt like a hug, and the large windows offered a panoramic view of the mountains I hadn’t wanted to leave behind.
Every corner of the room was touched with warm plaid accents—from the heavy wool blanket draped over the armchair to the brown tartan curtains, to the matching lampshades—giving the whole suite a sense of old-world charm.
Almost as charming as the old world where I’d spent the past two days.
All it was missing was Cian. I was sure he would love to relax in a room where he wouldn’t need to chop wood to keep warm. He’d appreciate the running water and plumbing so he didn’t have to go out in the cold and color the snow.
Maybe I could get his friend, John, to help convince him to come back to the room with me. He could wait until dark, maybe sneak up a back staircase. Or just forget his kilt and wear a disguise!
He didn’t have to hurry home to milk the cows or feed his chickens. Another twenty-four hours together wouldn’t hurt a thing.
After pointing out a gift basket of snacks and a bottle of whiskey and glasses waiting on a platter for me, my host headed for the door. I fawned over all of it, thanked him profusely for his generosity, and made it clear that I would be out of there in a couple of days at the most.
His eyes widened, and he shook his head while insisting that it takes time to feel hale and healthy again, and I was to take my time.
He added that my things should be arriving soon, but in the meantime, there was a robe in the bathroom.
His hand rose to gesture at his own hair while he looked at mine.
I didn’t understand his words, but the meaning was clear.
I needed to clean up before I showed myself again.
“Cameras can be unkind,” he said, backing out the door. “The cèilidh begins at seven. If ye could come doon a wee bit before, ye could get the interviews oot o’ the wee. Shall we say six, then?”
“Kaylee?”
“The hoolie. The party, lass.”
“And what interviews?”
“Auch, joost the usual. Reporters and sooch.”
“Great. Can you tell me how far it is to the armory?”
“Did ye need soomthin’ repaired?”
“No. I just… I wanted to talk to a man who works there.”
“No one there but John.”
“Yeah. That’s him.”
“Nae worries. Ye’ll see him doonstairs in a few hours. The whole region will be here.” And with no more time to spare for me, he hurried away.
I needed a phone, but mine was in a locker at the Glenmore Visitor’s Center. I found a landline in my room and pushed the button for the operator.
“How can I help?”
“Can you give me the number for the nearest armory?”
“Did ye need somethin’ mended then? We have a maintenance man—”
“No, thank you. Nothing like that. Do you have the number? Or could you connect me?”
“Here’s the number, then.”
I wrote it down, thanked her, and figured out how to get an outside line. The rest of the world and my worries fell away just knowing that whomever answered the phone would be standing next to Cian. Just a few rings, and we’d be connected again.
The ringing stopped. “Hiya. Thank ye for callin’. The armory is open…”
I hung up, impatient, and called again. Surely someone would realize it was important if the phone kept ringing, wouldn’t they?
“Hiya. Thank ye for—”
I called four times. No one ever picked up. So I called the lobby and asked for a taxi.
“I’ll ring ye back if I can find one,” a young guy said. “With everyone comin’ in, yer chances are—”
“It’s okay. I can walk. Can you tell me how far away the armory is?”
“John’s place?”
“Yes.”
“Four kilometers down the A-9. An hour’s walk. But if it’s John yer lookin’ fer, I’m sure he’ll be comin’ round for the hoolie, aye?”
“Yeah. Someone mentioned it. Still, if you happen to find a taxi, or an Uber—”
“I’ll give it a go. If I dinnae ring ye back in ten minutes, I had no luck.”
“Good enough. Thank you so much.”
“Auch, and welcome back to the land o’ the livin’, miss.”
“Thank you.”
I hung up the phone and wondered if I could sneak out the back and get down the road without anyone stopping me. I had nothing to change into. No other coat. And walking that far in my ski boots?
Just out of reach sat the whisky bottle on its fancy wood platter, resting on an artfully placed throw, on top of an oversized ottoman.
You’re going to need me, Matty lass, it said.
I shook my head. “I’m saving you for Cian.”
I watched the clock on the nightstand. Ten minutes ticked by like seconds. The phone never rang, but I couldn’t give up!
My boots didn’t matter. If someone questioned me or tried to stop me, I would just ignore them and keep going. If I could get down the road a little, maybe someone would offer me a ride. All that mattered was that Cian was waiting for me, and I had to get to him before he gave up and disappeared.
Once my divorce went through, there was no snowshoe trail to lead me back to him.
And it wasn’t as if I could fly back to Scotland every summer to spend a few weeks with him.
I could wait by the armory on the first Saturday of the month and follow him home again.
But what if he stopped coming altogether?
Or worse, what if I ended up leading that traveler to him?
I realized I was pacing and stopped to look at myself in the mirror. What a mess! How could he have kissed this ragamuffin? But I realized that, to Cian, I had basically been the only woman in the world. Given a choice, he probably wouldn’t have picked this…
I pulled the hair ties off the end of my braid and ran my fingers through my hair. It didn’t improve anything.
“Oh, Matty, you’re an idiot! You knew him for two days! It was never even a relationship! You have to let him go!”
I closed my eyes for a minute and asked myself if I could live with that. Then I flipped off the bitch in the mirror and headed for the door. “Not without saying goodbye, I don’t.”
I tucked the key into my coat pocket and opened the door. Standing in my way were the two police officers. They had my two suitcases, but they weren’t handing them over, and they weren’t smiling.
I wondered what I’d done. “Hi guys.”
“Mrs. Gaines.”
“Thank you for your trouble.” I pulled the door wider. “Do you have questions for me?”
They exchanged a look, then stepped inside, dragging my bags. I invited them to sit down, but they shook their heads.
The stocky one spoke first. “We went to the Balavoulin. They had yer things packed, but…”
“Then yer husband had arrived, so…they left the cases in yer room.”
“My husband? Here? In Scotland?”
“Aye. And…a woman. The Balavoilin folks gave them yer room, ye see—”
“Since he was yer husband and all. They arrived in the night—”
“Come to help the search—”
“So the owners gave them yer room.”
“But he let you take my cases, when you told him I’d been found?”
“Aye.”
“Then I don’t see a problem.”
Nick is here.
I kept waiting for some emotion to register. Maybe I should have been touched that he would spend the money to come all this way when it was in his best interest if I had died. He’d have the house, the restaurant, and the money he was going to use to pay me off.
But no. No emotion at all.
Unfortunately, the officers noticed.
“We’re getting divorced.”
They both let out a sigh of relief.
“Then its not so bad, then, that he brought the woman with him.”
“It’s probably just my friend, Tara, who was supposed to come on the trip with me.”
“Yer friend?”
“My best friend…until recently.”
They exchanged another look.
“What?”
“We told them about the party, yeah? They said they’ll see ye then.” They moved back to the door. “We’ll leave ye to it, then, shall we?”
“Actually, if you’re not too busy…”
“How can we help?”
“I need a ride.”
Those lovely officers waited in the pub while I took a quick shower and dressed in blessedly clean clothes.
I didn’t bother trying to straighten my hair because they weren’t the only ones waiting for me.
And I didn’t take the time for makeup. I wanted Cian to remember me as the same woman he’d spent the last two days with.
Time after time, I sent a mental plea into the universe, hoping he could feel if not hear it.
I’m coming. I’m coming. Please wait!