Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

C allum needed support walking to his door. His heavy arm went around Alex's shoulders and she ignored how easily she slid under it along with the solid warmth of his ribs against her.

Spreag was still missing in action as she led the big Scot to the guest room. She propped him against the door while she moved the pile of decorative pillows and turned down the bed so he could lay on his stomach.

"Behind that door is a half bath. The other is the closet. Try not to get them mixed up."

He laughed. then he gave her a wink and nodded. It wasn't terribly reassuring, so she made a mental note to point out the bathroom again, later.

"It's five o'clock now. I'll leave you alone until your next dose at seven. I'm going to bring you a bell. So, if you need help getting up, or anything at all, you ring it. I don't care if you ring it in two minutes, if you need help, you ring. Understand?"

"Bell. Aye. I understand."

Alex returned a minute later with her grandma's dinner bell and sat it on the nightstand within easy reach of long arms. She paused to listen to him breathing and heard the gentle, steady purring of a kitten. She was still laughing to herself when she pulled the door closed and came face to face with her husband's ghost.

One dark eyebrow rose, his question obvious.

"It's the only thing that makes sense. I can't keep running next door every few hours, and the doctor said he shouldn't be left alone when he's on powerful pain meds. Besides, this way..." She lifted an eyebrow of her own. "This way everything's out in the open."

Spreag's expression softened. "Reasonable. But I'd like ye to note the jealousy of a loving husband."

She grinned, relieved. "Noted. Full credit."

"Alexandra." His voice held such tenderness it made her eyes sting. "Ye need human contact. This will be good for ye."

She felt her every thought was there on her face for him to read. "And with every insignificant touch, I feel like I'm betraying you."

He shook his head. "Never."

She wiped her eyes. "So you're okay with me playing nursemaid?"

"Aye." His smile turned mischievous. "How dangerous can any man be...with a boiled arse?"

"I'm going to try to sleep for a couple of hours, until I need to give him a pain pill."

"I'll be here, love." He followed her to their bedroom. "Though I shall let ye tend him on yer own. Less awkward that way. No need to put yer phone to yer ear."

She nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I love you madly, you know."

"And I ye, Alexandra Tulloch."

Three days of juggling morning sickness and nursing a sunburned Scotsman had left Spreag's wife exhausted. Between running to the bathroom herself, cooking, and helping Fraser with his medicines and bandages, she barely had time to notice the less-than-substantial figure in her periphery. A living, breathing man would be hurt by her inattention. A ghost who wanted only what was best for her was not. For as much as he enjoyed her loving devotion, things were playing out better than he'd hoped.

Soon, she would be ready to let him go...

"I'm going to the store," she announced Saturday morning, after another round of burn cream application had left both her and Fraser red-faced. "We need food, and I need air."

"Not too green, are ye?" Fraser stood at the end of the hall in nothin' but his denims, leanin' against the door like some playboy.

"I'm fine." She avoided the sight of him and gathered her keys and her purse. "You promise the gummies have worn off? That you won't take anything but Tylenol while I'm gone?"

"Cross m' heart."

"All right. Try not to sing too loud while I'm gone, so the neighbors won't think we're shacking up."

"Sing? When did I sing?"

The bloody eejit sang each time his pain medicine reached full strength, and he knew it.

Alexandra left the house laughing--the most precious sound in all the world.

The house had rung with it for days.

As soon as she left, Spreag followed Callum into the garden. The man was supposed to avoid the sun, but Spreag was in no position to remind him. He'd been avoiding the farmer, not wanting to make things awkward for Alexandra, but the man's devious expression made him worry.

"If ye're there, Spreag Tulloch, make yerself known." Fraser settled on a bench with his hands on his knees as if he were calling Spreag on the carpet, then he looked back and forth as if expecting some sign.

It was all haverin'. It was impossible for the man to see him.

"Ssscairt-cat, are ye?" The farmer slurred the words. He was still oot his nut, and the realization made Spreag laugh aloud, at least to his own ears. "I ken that ye watch o'er her," he continued. "But there's no need."

After a minute or two of heavy sighs, Spreag thought he was done, but he wasn't.

"She's a fine woman, yer Alexandra." Callum's eyes were unfocused as he looked up at the sky. "Strong. Brave. Beautiful." He whistled. "I'd take fine care of her, ye know. But ye have to let her go."

Spreag felt a chill slide through his soul.

"It's not right, keeping her tied to a ghost." Callum continued. "She needs to live. To love again. To be held by someone with arms. " He held out his own arms to demonstrate, then grabbed his knees again to steady himself. "I see how she looks sometimes, when she thinks no one's watching. Like she's listening to someone who isn't there. Talking to empty air, poor wee thing."

The door opened and Alexandra stepped outside. "I came back for my phone. You shouldn't be in the sun..." She noticed Spreag and froze. "What's going on?"

"He can't see me," Spreag said quickly. "His gummies are still goin' strong."

Fraser jumped to his feet and straightened, then winced. "I'm tellin' yer man it's time to give ye up."

Spreag expected her to laugh, but instead, Alexandra stared at Fraser as if he were a stranger in her garden. Then she pulled those sweet lips between her teeth for a long moment, which meant she was gatherin' her courage.

If he could, he would have warned Fraser to go for a quick walk. But the farmer wasn't as oblivious as he seemed. At least he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, as if sensing the coming storm.

"Alexandra. Love. Forgive me. Ye cannae hold against me anythin' I say with this candy in m' bloodstream. I'm aff m' heid."

"Callum," she said calmly, "I think you're ready to move back home. I'll come apply your cream twice a day, which you can't do on your own, but if you're down to Tylenol, you don't need to be babysat, right?" She didn't wait for an answer and backed away. "I'll pick you up some groceries and bring them over in a while."

The order was clear. Be gone by the time I get back.

Once she was gone, Fraser sat on the bench once more and the two of them stared into the abyss. In the end, it was Fraser who broke the silence.

"Buck up, old man," he said, though Spreag didn't know if he was addressing himself or the ghost who'd witnessed his eviction. "She needed a shock, aye? Best that her mind is movin' in the right direction. A wee setback, that's all."

He stood with a purpose and headed into the house, presumably to gather the clothing and things that had migrated across the property line. But just before closing the door, he looked back at the garden.

"Ye can go anytime ye're ready and know that she'll be in good hands."

Spreag laughed when the door snapped closed, as if the big Scot believed he would just accept his marching orders.

Good hands? "We'll just see about that."

It was time to test Callum Fraser's mettle…