MacGowan's Ghost (22 page)

“Aye,” Allie said, and leaned into him.

Minutes later they were seated on her favorite bench, just a few feet from where the sea lapped at the shore. That odd mist crept over the loch, illuminated by a thin slice of moon shining from over the hills behind Sealladh na Mara. Gabe lifted the blanket, draped it over them both, and pulled Allie close.

Then he allowed her to take her time.

Finally, Allie told a story she hadn't told a soul—save Dauber—in years. She took a deep breath.

And before she could begin, Gabe felt for her hand, found it, and laced their fingers together. He squeezed gently.

It gave her strength.

She looked at him. “When did you change from a rude, aloof man to such a sweet and considerate one?” she asked.

Gabe shrugged and squeezed her hand tighter. “Must be the company I'm keepin' lately.”

“Indeed.” She took a deep breath in, then let it slowly out before she began. “I haven't always been able to see spirits,” she started. “But it wasn't until I died myself that I could not only see and interact but . . . relate.”

She felt Gabe tense beside her. “What happened?” His voice was low, steady, and yet she could tell how her statement had affected him by how heavy his brogue had become. She'd noticed that about Gabe. The more excited, angry, or concerned, the thicker his accent became, as well. She found she liked it quite a lot.

As if he understood, Gabe again squeezed her hand.

She continued. “I was two months short of turning eighteen years old when I walked into a convenience store and startled a robbery. I was shot here.” She lifted her sweater and pushed down the waist of her jeans, exposing the raised, four-inch scar just below where her appendix used to be. “And here.” She lifted the other side of her sweater, to just below her lung where another like scar rested. Gabe leaned forward to look, and then he settled back against the bench. The muscles in his jaw worked.

“I died twice, actually,” she continued. “Once on the floor of the Quickie-Mart, from blood loss and respiratory failure from a collapsed lung, then again in recovery, right after surgery.” She looked at him, and his gaze was fixed toward the sea. The moon shone from the hills behind them and coated the right side of his face in silver.

“Unlike a lot of people who experience near death, I remember everything.” She shivered, and Gabe must have thought it was the cold because he lifted his arm behind her head, tucked her close beside him, and pulled the blanket close. He grasped her hand again, and held tight.

It calmed Allie, his presence. And it made the telling of the rest not quite as difficult as she'd imagined.

“My father was right there, waiting. I'd missed him so much that at that moment, nothing mattered—not my mom, my sisters—nothing, except staying there, with him. Even if it meant staying dead.” She shook her head, and Gabe leaned his head close, pressing his lips to her temple. “I remember pacing in the recovery room, peering between the nurses and doctor and anesthesiologist and respiratory therapist at my body as they scrambled around, trying to bring me back. My father paced with me, and then jerked me around, hugged me tight, told me he loved me but I'd better get my scrawny ass back to where it belonged, that I was too young to die, that I couldn't leave my mother and make her suffer another death. Still, I wouldn't listen. I tried to run, the people trying to save my life completely oblivious to the fact two ghosts were zipping between them, a father chasing his disobedient daughter.” She breathed, and gave a short laugh. “And then the team quit. They stopped working on me.” She glanced up at him. “They were done trying to bring me back and they called the time of death.”

Gabe simply stared at her, waiting. He said nothing.

“I froze and stared at myself, lying on that recovery room gurney. I looked horrible. I wanted to go back, but I couldn't move.” She smiled. “The last thing my father said was,
I love you, brat. Tell your sisters and mother I love them. And that I'm watching, and always near.
Then he pushed me. Pushed me so damn hard I squealed.” She smiled. “He pushed me right back into my body. Later, the nurses would tell me how, just before my heartbeat registered on the monitor, they heard me squeal.” Again, she laughed. “They said it scared the willies out of them.” She shrugged. “It took me months to recover. No bones had been shattered—it was all internal injuries. I'd lost a lot of blood. But after, once I healed? I'd started college and had entered the chapel when I saw Alexander Dauber sitting on a pew alone.” She smiled at the memory. “Gosh, he was funny. He glanced my way. I must have had a wide-eyed look, and he blinked, over and over, wiped his eyes, and blinked some more. After that, more spirits began to appear, many more than before, and I could do little more than just interact. I could feel them, their suffering, and I could figure things out they couldn't figure out themselves. I could lessen their pain. Unsettle them, if you will.”

She still hadn't told him the worst of it.

With a deep breath, Allie turned to the left, so she faced Gabe directly. He looked at her, all serious and intense as usual, with his jaw clenching. She searched his eyes, noted every small detail of his face at close range, and she found she liked everything she saw—every laugh line at the corner of his eyes, his nose, his jaw. “When I was shot, the bullet hit a few things.” She looked down, then lifted her chin. “I can't have children.”

Gabe searched her eyes, then glanced out over the loch.

“I've accepted it, and I'm not looking for pity by telling you. But it makes me feel like . . .” She stuttered, and felt tears making her eyes burn. “Like I'm not a whole person because of it.” She shrugged and wiped her eyes. “It's not something I bring up immediately upon meeting a new guy.” She looked at him and tried to smile. “Tends to scare fellas off. Ya know? Makes people treat you differently if they know you've been through trauma.” She sighed. “I don't like to be treated different, so I keep it to myself.”

 

Gabe studied Allie Morgan, who sat sideways on a bench next to a Highland sea loch, legs pulled up and folded, baring her fears. The wind caught that glorious mane of curls and tossed them about, and she lifted her free hand to tuck the loose strands behind her ear.

He held her other hand tightly.

Lifting it, he brought it to his lips and pressed them there, and he watched Allie's eyes close, a soft sigh escaping her. He could feel her relief wash through her.

He wondered if she could feel his.

Christ, he thought she was about to tell him she was dyin'.

“I'm no' verra good at comforting words, Allie Morgan,” he said, and she opened her eyes and looked at him. “But I know what it's like to not feel whole. Guilt can take a chunk out of your spirit just as clean and accurate as a surgeon's blade.” He slid her close; her knees pulled up between them—just scooted her whole self closer, pushed that wild hair from her face, and traced her lips with his thumb. “You're the most complete person I know, Allie Morgan.” He watched his thumb as it moved over her mouth. “You have a gift to touch and mend souls, lass—dead, alive, it doesna matter.” He pushed her knees down then, placed both hands on her face, and pulled her so that their lips nearly brushed. “You've touched mine. And I'm tired of pretendin' you havena.”

And truly, he could find nothing more to say that summed up just how special Allie Morgan was to him.

So instead of words, he kissed her.

As Gabe settled his mouth over Allie's, he inhaled, the smells of the sea combining with the clean, flowery scent that belonged solely to Allie. He held her jaw, used his thumb, and pulled her mouth open just a bit and tasted her slowly, savoring the softness of her lips, the warmth of her tongue, and it all but drove him crazy.

Her hands, slender and soft, slid around his neck and up into his hair, although he'd cut it so close there wasna so much for her to touch. Just the pressure of her hands on his head, pulling him closer and kissing him back with such desperation nearly sent him over the edge.

He knew the more he tasted, the more he'd want.

Resting his hand on her thigh, he felt her skin heat under his touch, and he slid his palm up, over her hip, and came to rest beneath her jumper on the soft skin at the small of her back. Allie groaned softly as they kissed, and when he felt her spine with his fingers, she groaned again and leaned into him.

“Christ, woman,” he said against her mouth, then moved to her neck. “You're drivin' me bloody crazy—”

“No doubt you're drivin' her bloody crazy, what with all that slobberin' goin' on,” a deep voice said behind them.

Both Gabe and Allie jumped, once again clunking their foreheads together. Gabe glanced over his shoulder.

Only to find his younger brother grinning at him like the idiot he was.

“Damn,” Gabe muttered with a grin.

And before he could say another word, his brother leapt over the back of the bench, threw his stupid self down next to Allie, and put his bloody arm around her.

He gave Gabe's shoulder a push.

Lifting Allie's hand, his brother kissed it. “Sean MacGowan, lass, and I'd be more than happy to take care of this witless fool if he's botherin' you.”

Gabe swore under his breath, and Allie laughed. “If he ever starts bothering me, you'll be the very first person I call.” She smiled at Gabe, then turned to Sean and shook the hand he was still holdin'. “Allie Morgan and it's very nice to meet you.”

Sean put a hand over his heart. “Och, an American. And such fine manners—wherever did you find her, Gabe? That accent is so sweet,” he said, then lifted a brow. “Do you have sisters, then?”

Allie smiled. “Three.”

Gabe hadn't even known that.

There was a lot he needed to learn about Allie Morgan.

“Great! When can they be here?” Sean said, and Allie laughed. Then Sean rubbed his arms with his hands and looked at Gabe. “It's bloody freezin' out here, man. You two are either goin' to let me in that blanket or head back to Odin's.”

Gabe smiled, stood then, pulled his brother up from the bench beside Allie, and drew him into a fierce hug. Sean hugged him back. “Welcome home, little lad.”

“ 'Tis good to see you, old lad,” said Sean. “I've missed you.”

Gabe grinned and slapped his brother on the back. “Come on, then, you boneless schoolgirl. Let's get you back to the pub before you catch a chill.”

Allie laughed and Gabe looked down at her.

The reality of Allie Morgan washed over him then, and how bloody lucky he was to have crossed paths with such a woman. To think a woman like that could, dare he hope, care for a man like him?

'Twas nearly unthinkable.

She stood and sidled next to him, and slipped her wee arm around his waist.

Over her head, Sean looked at Gabe and grinned.

Then he mouthed the word
perfect
.

Gabe pulled Allie close and returned his brother's grin.
I know,
he mouthed back.

And as they walked back to Odin's Thumb, on that cold, misty October eve, Gabe realized he'd been alone all this time, had made the mistakes he'd made and lived through a hell he mostly created for his own stupid self, and that maybe it had been for a reason. He hadn't known Allie Morgan would be the one to step into his life to try to stop him from leaving his and Jake's home, but he was damn thankful she did.

It was at that very moment Gabe decided with certainty that Sealladh na Mara was where he and Jake needed to stay. He'd not have to fight his ghosts alone—once he told Allie the rest of his own secrets.

He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, and he knew then he wanted to keep her.

Keep her forever.

He only prayed he could.

Chapter 19

A
n hour before her alarm was set to ring, and Allie's eyes popped open.
Five a.m.
She blinked, pulled the duvet up around her neck, and peered over her toes at the hearth. Once again, another slab of peat had been placed, a nice warm blaze making the room toastier than it would have been had the fire gone completely out.

She'd have to remember to thank Gabe later.

Studying the room in the amber light of the fire, Allie thought back to the night before, after she, Gabe, and Sean had walked back in to Odin's. Everyone was still sitting in the same place as when she'd left, and they cheered as the three crossed the pub to the table. Nothing was said about why Allie had left, and yet it was comfortable, inviting, easygoing.

She'd discovered Gabe's family was like that. Completely accepting, natural, and accommodating.

Allie really liked that.

Sean, who looked enough like Gabe they could nearly pass for twins except he'd grown his hair out a bit longer and was about an inch shorter, had walked right up to Wee Mary, kissed her neck, and was rewarded with a squeal and a swat to the backside, and then he did the same thing to his mother.

Allie realized quickly just what a charming flirt Sean MacGowan truly was.

Of course, she also realized just as fast where the MacGowan boys obtained their charm, because when Sean tried to walk past his father, Gerald pulled his six-foot-plus son into his lap and planted a big sloppy kiss right on his cheek. Everyone had roared with laughter.

Once released from Gerald's arms, Sean had bowed to Mademoiselle Bedeau, who'd blushed a ghostly pink, greeted the other spirited souls of Odin's like family, who returned the greeting likewise, and had entertained the group with what Wee Mary had called
youthful naughty shenanigans
from university. Wee Mary was right. Naughty hardly described Sean MacGowan.