She gestures in a sweeping arc, taking in the full measure of Highland drama---golden heather, strips of snow clinging to the upper rocks, a loch below shimmering in the fading light.Soon, there won't be any light at all.
"Would ye believe me if I said yes?"I ask, only half-joking."The lairds have a rotating fund.We pay a small fee, and twice a year the Scenic Perfection Corps come round and tidy things up."
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head again."You're teasing me, but it's probably true.This place is too pretty for real life.Like, if you told me there was a surprise mountain orchestra waiting at the summit, I'd half believe you."
"Oh aye?"I'm breathless from the incline but unwilling to admit it."We sometimes have the sheep perform the overture.If you're lucky, you'll get to witness Balfour's Requiem in three bleats and a snort."
She nearly stumbles, laughing as I reach out---not for the first time today---to steady her.Gretchen closes her hand over my wrist.The contact lingers a second longer than strictly necessary before she lets go.We walk on, side by side.The dusk swiftly becomes full darkness, with the village lights behind and below us providing a meagre flicker in the wildness.
"How long have we been walking?"she asks."Feels we didn't go far, but I have no frame of reference now that it's getting dark."
"Time flies in the company of a bonnie lass," I quip."But if you must know, twenty minutes and half a mile."I check the slope above us."We could go further, but the sky is growing even darker by the minute."
The lovely lass halts and stretches, arms flung out like a goddess catching the wind."This is perfect.Besides, I want to soak it in."She rotates slowly, scanning every inch of the horizon."This is surreal.Like being in another century, but I somehow still have cell service."
Somewhere downhill, a sheep bleats and the wind carries the piping of a distant curlew.We sit down on the flat, fossil-caked boulder I'd had in mind that's dry enough on top.Gretchen turns to me, her expression anxious."Do you believe---"
I place my hand over her mouth and hiss, "Quiet.Someone's here."
Her brows shoot up, though she still cannae speak thanks to my hand over her mouth.
I murmur into her ear, "We're being watched.I can feel it."
Gretchen nods.
And I peel my hand away from her mouth.Still speaking softly, I tell her, "Keep close, and follow my lead."
Chapter Nine
Gretchen
In the almost total darkness, I can sense more than see the figure hiding within the shadows.I only noticed it because of the way Kirk tilted his head the tiniest bit, and I followed his line of sight.A single shaft of light breaks through the clouds.The human shadow is barely perceptible and provides the only clue that someone's there.Yeah, I'm pretty sure that is the figure of a man because the shape is moving closer.The moon is just coming up, offering barely enough light to convince me I'm not hallucinating this encounter.
Kirk wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me close."What are ye doing out here in the dark, Dougal?"
"Stalking you, of course."The voice is unfamiliar to me.When he tips his head to one side, I get the impression he's studying me, though I still can't make out his features."Are ye abducting the lass?Or protecting her from me?"
"Shut yer bloody mouth, MacWraith."Kirk's jaw has tightened so much that I expect to hear a grinding noise emanating from it."Tell me why you're stalking the slopes of this mountain."
"Like I said, I'm stalking you---and your lass."
"Because..."
Dougal shrugs, his silhouette thin and sharp against the backdrop of the clearing sky."Because, when Kirk Balfour brings a lovely Yank into the wilds, the talk of the village is deafening."He cocks his head, eyeing me with a feral grin that makes me move closer to Kirk."Word spreads, Balfour.Secrets are short-lived on the tongue of a Highlander, and I had tae see for myself if the rumors were true."
"Bi sàmhach," Kirk snarls."I'll be quiet when I bloody feel like it."
Dougal's gaze follows me, and a shudder slithers down my spine.Half curiosity, half that prickling fear you get when you know the monster under the bed might actually be real.Kirk tenses beside me, his muscles like iron bands in his arms.If this turns into a Highland showdown, I'm not entirely sure who might win, because Dougal seems like the type who would latch onto your neck and never let go until you die.
I lift my chin, determined to show no fear despite being terrified."It's not really abduction if I follow Kirk willingly, you know."
Dougal squints at me, seeming like he's processing my words.Then he lets loose a bark of laughter so sharp that I swear it slices through the evening air like a sword."Spirited, aren't ye?Balfour always did like the cheeky sorts."
Kirk's thumb sweeps slow, protective circles against my shoulder."We've no more time for your games.Out with it.What do ye want at this late hour?"
Dougal steps out of the shadows, exposing his face at last.The line of his mouth is too knowing and too sly, as if he's always three moves ahead and just waiting for us to blunder into his net."It's funny, Balfour.I heard you were leaving the Highlands again, but here you are with a lass."
I carefully stop myself from shrinking away from this evil reptile.
