Page 4 of Highland Spirit

“Throw them in the hold!” commanded Diarmad, storming away to the forecastle of the ship. “When we get to Ireland, I’ll marry the lass. And one way or another, I will find that treasure no matter how long it takes. I’ll find it if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“Alana, I’m scared,” whimpered Kirstine, clinging to her.

“Me, too,” said Finn, running to them as Alana gathered them both into her arms.

“Dinna worry,” she said, gripping her wedding ring tightly, horrified, sad and angry because she would never see the man she loved again. Then she thought of the key her mother gave her that was hidden in her pocket. Her hand slid down to cover it from outside her clothes. If Diarmad had known she had it, he would surely have taken it as well. “I will somehow find that treasure. I’ll find it and we’ll trade it for our lives.”

Alana only had her mother’s last words and the mysterious key to go by, but she had to figure it out. Their lives depended on it now.

She tried to comfort her brother and sister, and tried not to think of Ethan or she’d break down crying. She had to be strong. For her sister and brother. But her mother’s last warning to protect the treasure at all costs echoed in her mind. Her mother died to keep the treasure out of the wrong hands. Her uncle was dead because of it, too. Alana’s hand caressed her belly as the guards led them past her father and to the hold. She realized she had to do whatever it took to help her family . . . and to protect Ethan’s unborn baby.

The weight of the world was on her shoulders again, but this time it felt too heavy to bear.

Chapter 1

Five Years Later

Scotland, 1385

Ethan MacKeefe was known throughout the land as being a rugged, mighty Highland warrior, excellent with a sword, a beast during battle, and afraid of nothing . . . except for mayhap ghosts.

“Come on, Ethan. What are ye doin’ just sittin’ there?” complained Ethan’s good friend, Hawke, jumping to the shore from the boat that they’d just sailed from the mainland to the Isle of Kerrera. The boy named Oliver traveled with them. Hawke held out his hand to help the boy to shore, but Oliver stubbornly pushed it away.

Oliver was nine, and his sister, Sophie, who was back on shore, was six years of age. They were born of Hawke’s late wife, Osla, although Hawke was not their father. Since the passing of the children’s mother, Hawke and his new wife, Phoebe, took them into their care. Osla had been Phoebe’s cousin.

“We need to find Sophie’s doll,” Hawke reminded Ethan. “Her nonstop cryin’ ever since her mathair passed away is drivin’ the clan mad. Oliver says she probably left it somewhere near the large rock behind the hut where they used to live. I hope we can find it.”

“I can find it,” said the boy confidently. “And I dinna need ye two to help me do it.”

“Listen, lad,” said Hawke with a scowl, having no patience anymore. He was used to being a loner, and definitely not comfortable around children yet. “It’s nighttime and we’re on a remote isle that is said to be haunted. No’ to mention, ye are naught but a lad. Ye’ll take our help and like it.”

“Nay,” protested the boy. “I dinna care what ye say. I’m no’ afraid. I dinna need anyone.” Oliver took off at a sprint into the darkness, causing Hawke to release a frustrated breath. His hands balled up into fists before he slowly released them.

“Are ye comin’ with us, Ethan?” asked Hawke, looking back over his shoulder. “Or are ye goin’ to sit there starin’ up at that bluidy castle all night long?”

“Everyone kens about Blackbriar Castle,” said Ethan, being very superstitious and wanting to go nowhere near it. “It is cursed and we shouldna be here.”

“God’s bones, Ethan, ever since Alana betrayed and left ye, I swear ye’ve been actin’ like a dolt. In the past five years, ye’ve become even more superstitious than ever. It’s ridiculous that ye still fear imaginary ghosts although ye’re a man of six and twenty years.”

Ethan never did get over the fact that his betrothed played him for a fool, working alongside her thieving father to betray him. He’d been in love with the girl and thought she loved him, too. But when he realized their wedding was naught but part of a ploy to steal the MacKeefe cattle, he was heartbroken as well as furious. One of the clan members saw Alana willingly leave the MacKeefe camp the day of the wedding with a man. It was just before the MacDougals arrived to tell them what happened. She’d boarded a ship with her entire family and sailed away, never to be seen again. He was almost glad when he found out Caleb’s pine marten stole the wedding ring, because he would never be able to look at it again without feeling like his life was ruined.

“The ghosts are no’ imaginary,” said Ethan, speaking of not only the ghost of Blackbriar Castle but also the ghosts of his past.

Ethan was a brave man, but this isle truly spooked him. As a boy, he once took up the challenge from his friends of coming here and also entering the castle on his own. He’d taken the dare because he liked a challenge and was mischievous in many ways. He lived with the Chisholms then, since his mother belonged to the clan. It was many years later, on his mother’s deathbed, when he discovered his father was Onyx MacKeefe. After her passing, he found his father and moved to the MacKeefe Clan instead.

As a boy, he’d seen a ghost the night he entered Blackbriar Castle and, to this day it still spooked him. The worst part was that his friends never believed him and he’d ended up being teased about it his entire life.

“Ye ken the stories as well as anyone,” Ethan told Hawke. “And dinna forget we both heard the ghost scream the last time we were here.” It was said a crazy old man that everyone called Mad Murdock lived in the ruins of the old castle by himself. The story was that he murdered his bride and tossed her out the tower window on their wedding night. “I saw the ghost of Mad Murdock’s bride when I was a child, Hawke,” continued Ethan. “People still hear her scream all the time, all the way to the mainland sometimes. She walks the battlements to this day lookin’ to get revenge on her husband.”

“Blethers!” said Hawke, waving his hand through the air. “It’s all idle gossip, Ethan, and ye ken it. Ye canna believe everythin’ ye hear. No matter what ye thought ye saw, ye were mistaken. After all, yer faither was at one time thought to be a demon because of his two different-colored eyes, but we all ken it is no’ true.”

“Then what about the screams?” asked Ethan. “Ye canna deny ye heard them, too.”

“It was probably only a night owl or a wolf. It certainly wasna a ghost.”

Running a hand over his wolfhound’s back in thought, Ethan looked up at the dark, dreary castle in the distance illuminated only by the light of the moon. Tangled vines and dead trees surrounded the crumbling walls. He felt a chill run up his spine and it wasn’t just because of the weather. Someone was watching them. He could feel it in his bones. And he didn’t like it one bit. All he wanted to do was to turn around and sail back to the MacKeefe camp on the mainland. A warm fire and a potent tankard of Old Callum MacKeefe’s Mountain Magic was what he really needed right now.

The night was dark and the air was chilly this eve. A fine dusting of fresh snow covered the ground. He stared at the brooding castle on the cliffs above him and pulled his cloak closer for warmth. Blackbriar Castle was thought to be abandoned now, since no one had seen Mad Murdock on the mainland in years. Bards told stories that the ghost of the wife of Murdock killed him and that he was lying dead somewhere inside the ruins. They also said that anyone who dared to attempt to enter the castle wound up cursed or dead. It was an evil place and because of it, no one stepped foot on this isle if they didn’t have to.