Instinctively, her hand moved to hide the scar on her face. His gaze followed her movement, and she felt her cheeks grow hot.
He lifted his stare to the darkening sky and sighed. “Your granny felt my presence, but could ne’er see me. I always hoped you’d be different.”
Fear gripped her. “You knew my grandmother? How can that be? I don’t remember you at all.”
He smiled and shrugged. “Nay, you wouldna. ’Tis only now you can see me, and ’tis a miracle at best.” He smiled, but his eyes pleaded. “I need you verra badly.”
A memory flashed before her, from the summer she turned eight. She’d been on the dock, at the very place she now stood.A voice . . .“Why do you think I can help you?”
Sombre grey eyes stared back at her. “Because you haven’t run away yet.”
As if she could. He towered over her, blocking her path to the house. Their gazes locked, and her insides screeched to a dizzying halt. She couldn’t take her eyes off his.
He moved towards her. “Please, lass.” He reached out his hand. “I’m desperate.”
Kylie stepped back, confused. His plea sounded heartfelt, and so very real.Kylie, he appeared out of nowhere . . .Another step back, and then the sound of wood splintering cracked the air before she could stop herself. She screamed as the dock gave way beneath her. Just as both legs plunged through the rotted wood, Rory dived and grabbed her hands.
“Please, don’t let me go.”
“Nay, girl. I willna.” As if they’d known each other for ever, he pulled her up and into his arms. His firm chest against her cheek, his roughened hands splayed across her back, moving in a slow rhythm.
Then, just as fast as it had occurred, his warmth seeped away, a cool trace of mist remained in its wake. The solidity of his body shifted, and Kylie leaned in to capture it back. She opened her eyesand looked up – and gasped. Rory’s image was growing hazier, thinner.
“Do you remember me, Kylie? You were but eight summers old.”
Kylie scrubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, he began to fade. She reached for him. “Wait! What’s going on?”
’Tis all right, girl. I can still speak tae you. But I’ll no’ be able tae show myself again until tomorrow’s gloaming hour.
“Oh, God . . .” Staring at the haze until it fully disappeared, she drew a deep breath and swallowed. “You’re a . . .” It sounded crazy, stupid. But what other explanation, besides her pending madness, could it be? She could barely make herself say the word. It sounded absurd. But what else could it be? “Ghost?”
Nay, lass, no’ a ghostie. I dunna think I could solidify, were I dead.His light chuckle drifted over the marsh.I wish I could explain it, but that’s why I need you, Kylie. But you should head back tae the house, girl. Should you fall again, I willna be able tae catch you.
She shivered as a childhood memory assaulted her. The dock house, especially during the gloaming. A presence, perhaps – she couldn’t be sure. “I always felt something, but didn’t know what it was.”
He laughed quietly.Aye, your little nose would crinkle up whenever I’d come aboot.
She exhaled and closed her eyes. “I remember.”
Rory.
She opened her eyes. “What?”
My name’s Rory. An’ I’m desperate tae hear you say it.
A breeze rustled the reeds and cat tails, caressing her cheek as her heart pounded like a feral thing. Yeah, leave it to Kylie Robinson to be turned on by a dead guy. Or whatever he was.
“Rory.” She hadn’t meant for it to come out as a whisper, but it had. She wondered if he’d even heard it. Silence stretched between them as she walked across the yard and into the house. Dummy her, she’d forgotten to leave a lamp on. Easing into the darkness, she stopped after a few feet to gain her bearings.
Say it again.
Kylie jumped. His thick accent brushed her ear, surrounded and moved through her. Every nerve ending in her body hummed with awareness. What was he doing to her? She cleared her throat. “I, uh, thought you needed my help?”
Again that laugh. Sensual and strong, it filled the room and she’d never wished so hard that something could be real in all her life.
Aye, I do need your help, Kylie. Forgive me. You’re most distracting.
Breathe, Kylie Jane, she told herself. She moved until her fingertips brushed the lampshade. She pulled the chain and a dim light settled over the breezeway. A quick glance confirmed that indeed, she was talking to thin air. If he wasn’t a ghost, yet he was invisible, what was he? He’d certainly been very much alive on the dock – his warm, tight embrace still wrapped around her body. Yep. She’d gone and truly lost her mind.
