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Hell Transporter (Between) Page 3
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The summer passed by in a blissful blur, the two of us sheltered from the outside world in our little cabin home. Being with him again felt surreal and more than once, I found myself simply staring at him, unable to fathom that he was with me again.
“What?” he’d say, whenever I went into one of those trances.
“Nothing. Just... you,” I’d say and then he’d nod and kiss me.
Being with Aiden was like finding a precious gem. Part of me wanted to keep him all to myself, to not let anyone intrude on our time together, but another part of me wanted to show him off, to shout it from the rooftops that Aiden was alive, and that he was mine.
Dad called to check on me after about three weeks had gone by because he hadn’t heard from me since the end of the school year. I told him I’d met someone and that I planned to stay the whole summer. He gave me a little ribbing about my new boyfriend, emphasizing the word like I was twelve or something. Still, he put a fresh deposit on my cash card, which made me want to crawl through the phone lines and hug him.
Even though Aiden worked diligently to learn everything about this time and place, worry still followed me around like a shadow. Once the summer was over, I’d have to go back to school, back to the dorms with Jennifer and Stephanie. Where would he live? What would he do? Even if he caught up enough to fool everyone, he’d still need a place to stay and he sure as heck couldn’t room with me. Aiden seemed unconcerned though, and continually assured me that everything would work out, that I just had to have faith.
“Don’t you ever get worried?” I asked him one night, exasperated with his cheerful attitude and feeling shameful about my own lack of faith.
He thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “The only thing I’ve to fear is losing you, and I can’t believe the good Lord would go to such pains to give you to me only to take you away.”
“He did it before,” I said bluntly and immediately wished I could take it back.
Aiden’s face clouded over in remembrance and he nodded solemnly. “Aye, that he did. You’re right.” He turned to me then, his blue eyes piercing and direct. “Do you want for me to be afraid? Would that make you happy?”
I blew out a heavy sigh and shook my head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t help but worry and you’re always so strong. It makes me feel...I don’t know... ashamed that I’m not more like you.”
He took my hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. “You’ve naught to feel guilty about. You must understand, I come from a time when we had to depend upon God for every basic need. If he didn’t bring the rain, the kailyard wouldn’t produce food. If he wasn’t with us in the mountains, we weren’t successful in our hunt. If he didn’t protect us, any number of warring clans would gladly kill us without a moment’s hesitation.” He rubbed his hands over my arms.
“Good or bad, every breath is at his mercy, so you learn to accept that the future will unfold as he desires it to. And once you let go of trying to control it yourself, there’s extraordinary freedom to be found.” The strength and simplicity of his faith amazed me.
“I know you’ve seen the castle where I was raised, but I wish I’d thought to show you the hills where we spent our time hunting. You’d have a better idea of the living conditions in the Highlands. ‘Twas a handy trick to be able to cast a memory, aye?” The vision from that dream cast flashed in my mind and I shivered.
“‘Tis unfortunate we cannot still do it,” he continued. “There’s so much more I’d like to show ye.”
An idea occurred to me and I jumped up, pulling out my laptop.
“Well, maybe you can’t cast a memory, but we can look it up online.” I explained to him about satellite imagery as I navigated to a map search on the Internet. It defaulted to the U.S. and I pointed out the cabin’s location in Idaho.
“We’re here, and Seattle—where I’m from—is on the far west coast of the United States in Washington state, about a seven-hour drive away. My school is about an hour south of Portland, Oregon.” My hand slid down the page a fraction to indicate the location of the college. I typed in the address of the cabin and zoomed in on the satellite photo. Aiden shook his head in awe. Smiling at his reaction, I showed him how to navigate the digital map. He played with it for a while, marveling at the ability to explore roads and highways on the screen.
“There isn’t much to see between Seattle and Priest Lake except Spokane, which you’ve been to,” I said. “There’s a steep mountain pass, but other than that, it’s mostly farmland with a few lakes along the way. A pretty boring drive, actually. You do get to pass by the Columbia Gorge, though, which is way cool.”
I typed “Columbia Gorge” in the search box and showed him the pictures of the natural amphitheater where they hold summertime concerts.
“Does your band play there?”
I made an unattractive snort before I could catch myself. He laughed at me.
“I wish,” I said, shaking my head. “Still, we got second place at the talent show last year, so yeah, I kinda felt like a rock star then.”
“If only I could have been there to see you sing.” His hand trailed over my collarbone and down my arm. His eyes darkened as his thumb brushed the side of my breast. Tingles cascaded down my neck at his touch.
“So, Scotland...” I said with a cough, trying to rein in my desire to jump into his lap. Summer was winding down and we’d never be ready if we spent our remaining days in bed. Not that I wouldn’t like to, but that wouldn’t keep him safe.
“How do you spell the name of your hometown?” I asked, my fingers on the keys. I knew he pronounced it “Ellen Dawn-an” but after seeing the Gaelic spelling of his sgian dubh, I figured that phonetics wouldn’t get me very far.
“Well, the castle itself was called Eilean Donan, but of course, that was destroyed the day I died, so it’s naught but ruins now, I’d expect. You might try Kintail, as I’m fair certain the mountain ridge is still there.”
I did the search for Kintail and zoomed in on the results. Aiden leaned toward the screen with a wistful smile like he was seeing a photograph of a lost loved one.
“Would ye look at that? She’s just as beautiful as I remember. Those craggy mountains, the purple heather... A few more trees now than before, but almost the same…” His voice trailed off as he dragged the cursor around the screen, seeing the area of his youth come alive.
All of a sudden, he froze.
“God’s wounds,” he said under his breath.
“What? What’s the matter?” I looked from him to the screen and back.
He shook his head, his brows drawn together in a disbelieving frown.
I ran my finger over the mousepad to zoom in. And there she was.
“Eilean Donan…” he whispered in mystified reverence. I peered at the display and the stone castle standing proudly on the small island, its narrow bridge spanning the distance to the mainland. It looked almost the same as it had the first time I’d seen it, in Aiden’s memories from the 1700s.
“It cannot be… She was ruined. You saw it!” He shook his head in confusion, looking to me for confirmation.
I took the keyboard and typed the name of the castle into the main search engine. When I clicked the first link, stunning photographs of the restored castle popped into view. Aiden’s eyes misted over as he stared at the screen, mesmerized. He reached toward the display like he was trying to touch a ghost but pulled his hand away before making contact.
“It says the castle was destroyed in 1719 and sat as a ruin for about two hundred years. It was restored by Lieutenant Colonel John MacRae-Gilstrap in 1932.”
“MacRae?” Aiden’s voice broke on the word. His hands were shaking.
I squeezed his knee in encouragement. “Look, here’s a site dedicated to the Clan MacRae!” I clicked on it, excited to be connected to this extraordinary history now that I was a MacRae as well.
“The destruction of the castle occurred during one of several Jaco
bite uprisings,” I read with enthusiasm, remembering the passion of the men gathered in the castle’s great room, fired up about taking on the English, “which culminated in the bloody slaughter of the rebels at Culloden Moor in 1746.” The excitement drained out of me as I skimmed the rest of the page.
Over fifteen hundred Scottish Jacobites died that day, while only about fifty of the Royal Crown’s army perished in the battle. The Duke of Cumberland gave orders that no mercy was to be extended to the rebels, earning him the nickname “The Butcher.” The moor was searched following the battle and all of the wounded were executed on the spot. In addition, the English scoured the Highlands, hunting for rebel sympathizers, and raping and killing indiscriminately. Soldiers stole the livestock from families and split the profits amongst themselves. Several hundred Scots were jailed, put to death or transported to the colonies.
“Oh my…” The words dried up on my lips as my eyes absorbed the rest of the story.
Kilts were outlawed and the Scots were prohibited from bearing arms in an effort to repress the clans. Over the 18th and 19th centuries, many were cast out of their homes to starve or freeze as part of the Highland Clearances or “improvements.” The English set houses on fire and stole the land, forcing many to emigrate to Canada and America. As a result, there are more descendants of Highlanders in North America than in Scotland today, the website said.
“Turn it off. Turn it off, please. No more.” Aiden’s face was gripped with pain as he fought for control over his emotions. He jumped to his feet, scraping the chair against the hardwood floor.
“Aiden…” I tried to reach out to him, but he shook his head, his features locked down tight.
“No. I need to be alone for a spell. I’m sorry.” He strode out of the cabin, leaving me staring helplessly after him.
He didn’t come back, though I waited for him until the fire was no more than glowing embers. Shivering, I got up and turned on the porch light, then went upstairs to bed alone. It seemed so cold and empty without him and I curled into a ball to try and get warm. I fell asleep with tears staining my cheeks, my heart aching for Aiden and the fate dealt to his people.
Somewhere deep in the night, I felt Aiden’s warm body crawl in next to mine. I pressed myself against him. He smelled of the woods, of pine trees, earth and sweat, and I breathed deeply, thankful to have him home with me. He stroked my hair and spoke softly to me in Gaelic, which I didn’t understand, but didn’t need to.
I turned my face to him and he kissed me, an unspoken need on his lips. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him on top of me, and we made silent love in the dark, our bodies healing the hurts that were too much for our hearts to bear. We lay in each other’s arms afterward, fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle, and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 5
The next morning, I headed downstairs to make breakfast and heard the muffled buzzing of my cell phone in my purse, telling me I’d missed a call.
“What is that blasted noise?” Aiden said behind me, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I heard it last night when I came in.” I pulled out the phone and Dad’s smiling face appeared on the screen as a new voicemail. Fear lanced through my chest as I listened to the message and I struggled to breathe. Aiden was instantly at my side, concerned.
“What is it, lass?”
I shook my head, unable to speak for a second.
“My dad… he’s on his way here… now. He called last night to say he was coming to visit.” I glanced at the clock. “He’ll be here in an hour or so.” As if on cue, the phone vibrated in my hand and I dropped it with a panicked squeak. I stared at it for a second as it buzzed against the hardwood floor. Trembling, I bent to pick it up.
“Hello?” I croaked, then cleared my throat.
“Lindsey? Oh good, I’m glad I caught you. Did you get my message? I’m just crossing the border now, so I should be there pretty soon. Do you want me to pick anything up on the way?”
I searched frantically for something to stall him. “Um, yeah, actually,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though my tongue would barely form the words. “I’m running low on ice and distilled water, if you want to stop and get some more.” He assured me that would be no problem and hung up with a “see you soon.”
All of a sudden, my brain kicked into high gear, the adrenaline screaming through my veins.
“You’ve got to get out of here! Oh God, where are you going to go? Dad can’t know you’ve been living here at the cabin with me. What are we going to do? Crap!” My fingernails bit into my palms as my mind raced to come up with a plan. Aiden smiled at me in his unnerving confident way, amusement lighting his eyes.
I was in no mood for it.
“It’s not funny! You can’t stay here!” I snapped at him, on the knife’s edge of completely losing it.
“Lindsey, my love, dinna fash yourself. I can sleep in the woods. I’ve spent many a night camped under the stars with naught but my plaid to warm me. I’ll bide, I assure ye. Tell the truth, I’m fair excited for the chance to meet your Da. I have a certain question I need to be asking of him.” My eyes flew open and I swallowed hard. He laughed, a joyous sound that filled the room.
“I remember your Da from the memory you cast in Seattle. He’s a good man. We’ll get on fine. But do you think we might have time for a quick breakfast before he arrives? I don’t mind staying in the woods, but I’d prefer to have some food in my belly before I go.”
“Right. Breakfast. We can do this.” I clapped my hands together and took a deep breath, the surge of panic suddenly giving me clarity of mind. “I’ll start breakfast and then make some food you can take with you. I’m not sure how long he’s planning to stay and you might not be able to join us for every meal. I have a duffel bag upstairs you can use for all your stuff. I’ll need to make up the twin bed for myself and the king for my dad…”
I rambled off the to-do list and Aiden obediently complied with my orders, collecting up all traces of his presence that were scattered throughout the cabin. Breakfast was a quick and rather quiet affair as I racked my brain to make certain I hadn’t forgotten anything.
Aiden kissed me lightly as he stood to go, packed duffel bag in hand. “I love you.” His eyes held mine for a moment and I felt the worry slip away, the muscles relaxing in my neck and shoulders.
“I love you, too.” I kissed him more soundly and he grinned at me as he slipped out the door and into the woods.
Dad’s car pulled into the dirt drive next to mine not ten minutes later. I went out to meet him and his face lit up when he saw me. “Hey there, pumpkin! How’s my girl?” He kissed me on the cheek and gave me a big bear hug.
When I wrapped my arms around his neck, the sun glinted off my golden wedding ring.
Crap!
I quickly stuck my hand in my pocket and wriggled it off as he released me, relieved that he hadn’t noticed.
“Are you hungry, Dad? Should I make you some lunch?” I asked, helping him unload his bags.
“Oh no, honey, thanks. I grabbed a quick bite at McDonald’s in Newport. I didn’t want you to have to drop everything and make me lunch as soon as I got here.”
If only you knew how I had to drop everything!
“I made up your bed for you,” I said, lugging his stuff into the cabin.
“Well, that was sweet. Here I show up practically unannounced and you give me a king’s welcome. I guess we raised you right, huh?” He pinched my cheek like I was still a little girl. I winced.
While Dad headed upstairs to unpack, I paced around the living room, thinking about Aiden out in the woods by himself and worrying about him meeting my dad. The centerpiece of the living room was a large rock fireplace built by hand with rocks drug from the lake. A couple of armchairs bracketed the fireplace, and two mismatched couches faced the center of the room. Behind them sat a heavy pine dining table where I’d spent many hours playing games as a child. On the wall, a painted wooden toilet seat cover held a
small table lamp made to look like a woman’s leg in a fishnet stocking. Normally, the room’s corny, rustic style made me feel peaceful and homey, but today, it was all I could do to keep from chewing my fingernails down to stubs.
Breathe, Lindsey, I thought and forced myself to calm down. The bookshelf along the wall behind the table called to me as a possible source of distraction, so I grabbed the nearest book I could find and sat on the couch.
Dad came downstairs and plopped onto the oversized chair with a blissful sigh.
“Man, I love this place. You remember making these when you were little?” he asked, referring to the tacky, naugahyde-capped footstools shaped like mushrooms.
“Made from genuine nauga cows,” we said in unison. Some of my tension dissolved as I laughed with him, remembering how easy things used to be.
“Yeah, your mom and I always…” he started, but his face clouded over at the mention of life before the divorce. He shook his head. “Well, never mind that. It’s just nice to be back.” His smile was overly bright and I returned it, glad we weren’t going to talk about Mom and her boyfriend, Nick.
His eyes drifted over to the new woodpile and the drapes next to the fireplace. “What happened to the old curtains? Did you make a new frame for the woodpile?”
I squirmed in my seat, afraid he would be upset. “Oh, uh, yeah, I… accidentally caught the woodpile on fire and it ruined the curtain so I had to make some new ones. Aiden built another frame and filled it with fresh logs.”
He sat forward in his chair and directed a worried gaze at me, a deep furrow creasing his brow. “A fire? What happened? Were you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. I threw some papers into the fire and went to bed, not realizing the sparks had caught the woodpile on fire. The smoke woke me up and I was able to put it out with the extinguisher. Aiden pulled me out of the smoke.” The words were out before I’d had a chance to think about it and I swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions about how Aiden had known I was in trouble.