Return of the Highlander (Immortal Warriors) by Sara Mackenzie Page B

was gone. He even found his mouth twitching, trying to smile, and with a sigh he let it. She was safe, that was what mattered. The rider had returned to wherever he came from, and although Maclean knew he should consider what new threats awaited him, instead he found himself thinking of Bella. He’d grown so used to having her near that without her he’d feel desolate.
    It was a strong word, but Maclean knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Bella had become his companion and in his loneliness and confusion he relied on her. He needed her.
    Maclean walked beside her, bending his head to listen to her singing. Her voice had steadied, she seemed calmer and the words were easy enough, though very silly in his opinion. “Oh Baby”? What the bloody hell did that mean? Tentatively he began to sing along with her, his uncertainty dropping away. He hadn’t sung much when he was alive; it was not fitting for a Highland chief to break into song as he went about his tasks. But now he found he was enjoying hearing their mingled voices, the high note of Bella and the husky baritone of Maclean. Aye, they were well matched.
    Even if she didn’t know it.

Six
     
    Bella didn’t know what to do or think. First the Highlander in her kitchen and now that man on the horse, riding toward her. His face…He’d wanted to kill her, she’d known it with a cold, hard dread. And then, a moment later, nothing. The loch was still as glass, the air was sweet and chill, and the silence absolute. Bella could tell herself she was imagining it, that the past few days had scrambled her brain, that her synapses had gotten crossed.
    But she knew what she’d seen; she just wasn’t sure what to do about it.
    And there was something else. Just after the man on the horse disappeared into thin air there had been a movement on top of one of the shallow hills that surrounded the loch, where the road ran across from Gregor’s croft. Something pale brown and shaggy and elongated had been standing there. She hadn’t seen it for long, but long enough to know it was the pony with the strange green eyes.
    When Gregor came to see her later in the day, bringing her milk, eggs, and butter, and asking her about some missing sheep he’d had grazing by the loch, she didn’t know whether to mention her experiences or not.
    “You’ve seen no one about?” he asked, concerned for his sheep. “No strangers?”
    Yes, a ghost in the kitchen and another one riding a horse.
    “Well…no.”
    “Where’s Brian?”
    Bella looked away from Gregor’s keen gaze. “Brian’s having a holiday. Sort of.”
    Gregor nodded. “Verra well.” He gave her a dour smile. “If sheep went missing in the old days it was the way of the people to blame the each-uisge . There were other monsters, too, like your Nessie in Loch Ness, and creatures in other lochs that are not so famous. The waters of Scotland have always held their secrets. Only nowadays we dinna believe in such things.”
    Bella frowned. “Strange you should say that, Gregor. I did see a horse by the loch. Well, a pony. Twice. I thought it might have belonged to you.”
    Gregor shook his head. “I have no horse, Bella. Mabbe it was from over Mhairi.”
    “Maybe.”
    “I’ll ask about. See if there’s one missing. What did it look like?”
    “Odd.”
    He gave her another dour smile. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re seeing ghosts, Bella.”
    She grimaced and knew she couldn’t talk to Gregor. Whatever was happening to her, it was up to her to sort it out for herself.
    When Gregor had gone, Bella stood and gazed across the reflections in Loch Fasail and over to the gray bulk of the mountains that sheltered Ardloch on the coast. The long twilights seemed to go on forever, so that there was very little darkness. It felt like another world, a dreamlike place where anything was possible. On nights like this Bella had no difficulty in believing the Highland tales of ghosties and ghouls and monsters in the lochs.
    Brian had