Chapter Four #3
“I still say ’tis the angle of the light through the pass. Come along now. We’re nearing the end and will be back in direct sunlight soon.” Morganna turned her mount and continued onward.
More irritated than vindicated, Evie urged Mercury to follow. “It’s not the angle of the light,” she told the horse. “I know you’re glowing.”
The animal gave a deep, rumbling whicker that somehow consoled her. At least he agreed with her. Of course, that still didn’t explain how he glowed in the dark like a freaking night-light. When she got back to the cottage, she’d Google glowing horses and see what came up.
When they emerged into the sunny glade, both animals returned to their shades of silvery white and inky black instead of night-light white and shadowy darkness.
“There’s my Callum.” Morganna spurred Darkstar to a gallop.
“We’ve got to keep up.” Evie barely leaned forward, and Mercury took off at the speed of sound.
Or, at least, it felt that fast because they’d soon passed Morganna and her mount, leaving them in the proverbial dust of the lush glen covered in fading patches of heather, the pink and lavender blooms spent for the season.
As they neared the unusual spiraling mound of grassy steps, she reined in Mercury and offered the handsome man with the long, whitish-blond hair a weak wave.
“Hi. You must be Morganna’s Callum?” Morganna was a lucky lady.
Mr. Callum was almost as breathtaking as the mystery man from the fog. “I’m Evie Waterton.”
His smile was as tight and tense as his stance, but he offered a polite nod. “A pleasure to meet ye, Miss Waterton. I am indeed Callum Mountainsong.”
Morganna pulled up beside her, halted her mount, and dismounted in one admirably graceful movement.
Evie wished she could do that, but she just didn’t have the legs for it. She was more like a gnat hitching a ride on an elephant’s back. She dismounted the same way she always had—by swinging a leg over, rolling to her belly, and sliding downward until she could safely drop to the ground.
“How are ye finding our Craig Durness, Miss Waterton?”
Callum Mountainsong was on edge. More so than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It was in his voice and the stiffness of his movements. Evie read it as plain as day. “Craig Durness is beautiful,” she said, “and Petra makes the best cherry turnovers I’ve ever tasted.”
The man’s smile relaxed a little, but not much. He jutted a curt nod at Mercury. “Ye ride as though born to it.” Then he gave Morganna a look that Evie didn’t understand. What was it with these Scots and their undercurrents of private communication?
“I used to ride all the time at my grandparents’ farm.” She hugged Mercury, who had come over and protectively hooked his head over her shoulder. “And this handsome fella made it easy to remember how. He’s a sweetheart.”
“Indeed, he is,” Callum said in an odd tone she couldn’t decode.
Since a bit of weirdness already seemed to be floating among them, she decided to toss caution to the wind and jump in with all the strangeness the trip had offered so far. What did it matter if these people thought her crazy? “Mercury also glows in the dark like a cave worm.”
Callum leaned forward and tilted his head like a befuddled dog. “Come again? Did ye say a cave worm?”
“It was the angle of the sunlight in the pass,” Morganna said, almost hissing the words. Who was she trying to convince? Callum or herself?
“Ah.” He nodded as if he understood, but his dubious expression suggested otherwise. “Other than glowing horses, are ye enjoying yer visit to the blessed Highlands?”
“I am enjoying my visit even though I never entered the sweepstakes to get here, got laid off from my job at exactly the right moment to make the trip, heard someone calling me a childhood pet name I hadn’t heard in years, saw what must’ve been a ghost in the fog last night, and realized that Forestor reminds me of a troll.
” Crap. She hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.
Poor Forestor. “Don’t tell Forestor I said that.
I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s been really nice. ”
Callum turned to Morganna. “What in the name of all the powers of light and darkness is going on here?”
“I told ye someone was meddling,” she said as if Evie wasn’t standing there.
“Feckin’ hell.” He raked a hand through his amazingly light-colored hair, making Evie wonder if he glowed in the dark, too. He narrowed his eyes, studying her as if she were a bug he’d never seen before. “Do ye feel well and whole, Miss Waterton? Physically?”
“Call me Evie, and other than a dizzy spell at Petra’s place and the aforementioned hallucinations, physically, I’m fine.”
“Hallucinations?”
“My childhood nickname riding on the wind and seeing that man walking toward me in the mist—a man only I could see.” She eyed Morganna. “Unless somebody lied.”
“I did not see him.” Morganna drew herself up, obviously insulted. “I did not lie about that.”
“Then what have you lied about?” Evie hated being a jerk about this whole deal, but it was high time everyone laid their cards on the table. “There wasn’t a sweepstakes, was there? And since there wasn’t—why me? Why am I here?”
Morganna moved closer, then backed up a step when Mercury stomped in her direction and lowered his head as if about to charge. “Ye’re still travel weary and have merely experienced Scotland’s magic. Ye appear more sensitive to it than most.”
“Scotland’s magic?”
Callum positioned himself between Mercury and Morganna.
The horse didn’t seem nearly as aggressive toward the Highlander as he was toward Morganna.
“Magic is the lifeblood of the Highlands,” he said.
For the first time since she’d arrived, his smile became relaxed and seemed genuine.
“Surely ye’ve heard that. Ye mentioned all the inexplicable things that have happened, and yet ye dinna seem all that troubled by them.
Many would have already demanded return tickets to wherever they came from. ”
“Ye told me ye believed in soul mates,” Morganna said with an eeriness that made Evie shiver, “and love at first sight. Predestination. If it’s meant to be, it will be. Remember? Surely ye believe in magic as well.”
“What are you trying to tell me in your roundabout way?” Evie shivered again and pulled her jacket closer around her. The wind had picked up, making the taller grasses on the hill swish and whisper with secrets she wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear.
“Trust yer heart, lass,” Callum said. “And allow no one to convince ye otherwise. Yer heart and soul always knows the truth. Listen to them. No matter the facts or even the reality ye see with yer own eyes. Always trust yer heart and soul.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means believe in the magic and never let go of it.”
A strange weakness came over her, pushing her to her knees.
She fell forward and dug her fingers into the sea of grass rippling like waves across the steps of the hillside.
She gagged. That grass really needed to stop moving.
Her perfect cherry turnover was about to come back out.
Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and concentrated on not losing her breakfast. Ears throbbing as if she’d suddenly been yanked to a different altitude, she swallowed hard and worked her jaws.
Maybe she’d picked up some sort of bug on the airplane.
Whatever this was that was wrong with her, it was not good.
“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do any more today,” she said, forcing the words out through the nausea.
What was that strange howling? The wind shoved her, making it impossible to stay upright on all fours.
She fell over and curled into a ball, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. “Morganna?” she called out without opening her eyes.
Morganna didn’t answer. No one answered but the wind and a horse’s enraged scream.