Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

B rian did not see the woman at first, she just suddenly was , standing by the road with her thumb stuck out. She stepped forward as he came closer and he slowed, worried he might knock her over. That was when he saw the clothing she was wearing.

It was odd, to say the least.

Faded tartan pants that clung to her slim legs and a dark green jacket with gold buttons. Her yellow hair was loose about her shoulders, and she was breathtakingly beautiful, in a fey sort of way. He wondered if she was going to some fancy dress party, or maybe she was one of those New Age travelers.

Despite his urgency to get to Bella, Brian found himself almost compelled to stop his car to pick her up.

The woman sauntered toward the car, smiling at him, and he lowered his window. She leaned forward, her long hair framing her face. "Where are you headed?" Brian asked.

"Loch Fasail."

Her eyes were an enchanting green with gold flecks, dazzling, like the sun on water. After a moment Brian realized he was smiling at her like an idiot and hadn't answered.

"Loch Fasail? That's where I'm going! Well, Drumaird Cottage, anyway. I didn't think anyone lived around there anymore. Is it Gregor's farm you want?"

"I dinna know a Gregor." A secretive look had come into her eyes now.

Brian hesitated—there was something about her—something strange. Perhaps he should just drive on…

"My family lived there," the girl said, so soft he had to strain to hear her. "A long time ago. I wanted to see it again."

Brian relaxed. She was reliving her past, maybe some extra-special summer spent at the loch with her family. Nothing wrong in that. He might as well give her a lift; no one else would be coming this way today. Anyway, it would be nice to have some company for the last part of the journey, to take his mind off what lay ahead.

"Get in."

The girl skipped around to the passenger side of the car and stood waiting. Brian smiled. A real little lady despite her weird clothes. He reached over and un-latched the door and pushed it open. She slid into the seat and carefully pulled the door shut behind her.

"Okay?" he asked her, easing his car back onto the road.

"Aye."

"I'm Brian. What's your name, then?"

She glanced at him in that secretive way. "Ishbel."

"How do you do, Ishbel?"

"You're wrong, you know," she said, and now she was staring ahead through the windscreen.

"Wrong?"

There was a musty smell. From her clothing, perhaps? It reminded him of something.

"There is someone who lives at Loch Fasail."

"Who's that, then?"

"Maclean."

Brian gave her a look. "Maclean?"

"Aye. He lives there."

Maclean . . . could that be the man that Bella was with? It had been difficult to make him out through the mist, and Brian knew he had been too shocked and angry to really take in the details of who and what he was seeing. He glanced at the girl again, but she was sitting very still, her hands clenched in her lap. Her hair hung down, shielding her profile, and there was something dark tangled in it. Was she afraid of him, or was it the car? Brian was a careful driver, so he doubted it was the speed they were traveling.

"What does this Maclean look like?"

"He's a big man, braw, with dark hair."

"He wears a kilt?"

"Aye."

"Is this Maclean a relative of yours? Or an old boyfriend?" he added with an arch grin.

She laughed and her long fair hair tumbled about her, and he realized the dark object was a piece of water weed. At the same time he knew what the musty smell was—stale water. Her clothing smelled of the loch.

"Och, no, mister, Maclean's ma intended husband!"

Better and better! Brian laughed back in honest delight. He couldn't wait to tell Bella that her lover was almost a married man, and to this little beauty, too.

"I'm coming to claim him," Ishbel added quietly.

"Good." Brian speeded up, just a little. "I'm glad to hear it."

* * *

Drumaird Cottage was empty when they reached it, but Brian knew where Bella hid the key. He unlocked the front door and peered inside, but he could tell Bella and her new friend Maclean were out. The place felt cold and deserted.

A pity. He had been looking forward to the confrontation. Ishbel enticing Maclean away with her, Bella weeping and wailing, and Brian there to pick up the pieces. Perfect timing, really.

"Do you want a cup of coffee or something?" He turned, expecting Ishbel to be behind him, but she was still standing outside, a few yards beyond the doorway. The sun was shining and he couldn't see her expression; she was standing against the light, her shadow cast long before her.

In that moment his previous unease returned. Her shadow struck him as odd, wrong, mismatched. Such a large shape couldn't possibly belong to so slight a woman.

He blinked and the effect was gone. "Do you want to come in?"

"I canna. I am no' allowed."

"Not allowed?" he said with an arrogant laugh. "They're not here, you can come in if you like. I'm asking you to. I don't know where they've gone, they might take hours."

"Och, ne'er mind," she said sweetly. "I have a way to pass the time."

Her smile, her eyes. He was drawn. Almost against his will, Brian's feet propelled him toward her and out of the cottage.

Her shadow wavered, shimmering in a way that turned his blood cold. He peered closer, thinking it was his eyesight, thinking he must be imagining things, and that was when he realized her face was changing, growing longer, and . . . and her body was enlarging, elongating, taking the form of something else.

"Ne'er mind," she said again, her voice deepening and echoing all around him. "We have things to do before they return."