“The lavvy. Loo. Toilet.” Keeva gave her a reassuring pat. “It’s across the way. Attached to yer bedroom whereas yer kitchen is just right over there. Shall I fetch ye a glass of water?”
Dropping her hands to her lap, Lyla stared straight ahead. “That would be great.” Not that she really wanted water. She just needed Keeva to stop fussing and flitting over her. A hard shiver stole across her, making her hug herself and rub her arms. This place was cold. Or maybe it was just spooky. She hadn’t fullydecided. Pushing up from the couch, she went to the buckets on either side of the wood stove. One held chunks of wood, and one held what looked like dried, compressed hunks of somebody’s muddy lawn. She assumed the mud bricks were peat since she’d come across those in, of all places, a gift shop. Whatever they were, they looked like they’d burn and make the fire hotter. She chucked a couple of them and a couple pieces of wood into the stove, then backed up to it. If this little box of cast iron was supposed to heat the entire apartment, she was in for a cold couple of months and should’ve brought more sweaters and her merino wool leggings.
Keeva returned with a glass of water. “Here, lass. Water straight from the healing springs of Seven Cairns. Sweet to the taste and balm to the soul.”
“Thank you.” Itwasthe best-tasting water she’d ever drunk. With a nod at the wood stove, she wrinkled her nose. “Is this my only source of heat?”
“Och, no!” Keeva made her feel better by looking suitably shocked. “Radiators keep the place warm and toasty. Are ye cold, then? Shall I adjust the thermostat for the one in here? When I put yer bags in yer room, it seemed plenty warm enough, but ye may not feel the same.”
Lyla rubbed her arms. “It just seems a lot colder in here. Cold enough to seep into your bones. Are you not cold?”
“Nay, lass, I’m fine. But then again, I dinna seem to be struggling like ye are. I hope ye’re not coming down with something ye picked up during our travels.”
“Yeah, me too. There’s no telling the germs I’ve touched between here and Cincinnati.” Lyla shuddered. Maybe that was why she’d hallucinated the voice again. She tried to play it off as a simple remembering of what she’d heard before, but this time, the words had been different. She clamped a hand to her forehead. “I’m not warm, so that’s good. No fever.”
“Ye probably just need a good long sleep in a bed rather than propped up in a seat.” Keeva pointed across the spacious room at the efficient kitchen in the corner. “Yer pantry is well stocked, but tomorrow, after ye’ve rested, I’ll take ye to Boyd’s and Innis’s. Anything else ye might need can be found at either of their places. Innis’s bakery makes the best sticky buns and shortbreads ye’ve ever tasted, and Boyd’s shop has every necessity anyone in the world ever thought about needing.” With a laugh, she added, “And old Boyd will do his best to convince ye that ye need to buy every single one of them if ye dinna watch him close.” She sidled a few steps back toward the kitchen. “How about I put the kettle on for a nice cup of tea? That’ll help warm ye.”
“I am watching over ye, my lady. Never ye fear. I’ll not allow anything or anyone to harm ye.”
Lyla looked all around, searching for cameras tucked away somewhere, or speakers, or anything out of the ordinary that might explain why the voice sounded so much closer and clearer here.
“Lyla?” Keeva stood there, looking ready to start overly-flitting around her again. “What is it?”
Not finding anything questionable on the pristine white-washed ceiling or the dark wooden beams crossing it, Lyla surrendered, throwing up her hands. “He says he’s watching over me, and that he’ll not allow anything or anyone to harm me.” She wondered if the village had a medical doctor willing to prescribe something strong enough to silence the man in her head—if such a drug existed. “Is there a doctor here? Amedicaldoctor. Not some holistic guru.”
“Inverness has physicians and a hospital.” Keeva appeared slightly insulted. “And perhaps if ye embraced the peace of Seven Cairns rather than mock its natural healing, it might help ye more than ye think. Ye said ye believe music soothesand heals. Why can other things like massage, meditation, and connecting with the blessed land not work as well?”
A wave of guilt swept across Lyla. After all, she had accepted the job of music therapist. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m just tired—physically, emotionally, and mentally—and imagining that I’m hearing things is really getting old. I’m going to settle in, have a shower, listen to some calming music, and I’m sure I’ll be a new person with a better perspective by morning.
Keeva nodded, then hung her head, suddenly appearing a bit sheepish. “’Tis I who should apologize. Forgive me, Lyla. I’m tired too, but shouldn’t allow that to make me snippy.” She pointed at the skeleton key on the kitchen counter. “There’s yer key. I’ll leave ye to yer relaxing, then and get on with a bit of resting myself. Ye have my number. Call me if ye need anything, aye?”
“I will.” Teeth clenched, Lyla wished Keeva would just leave already. She really liked the girl, but there was such a thing as too much togetherness, especially when lack of sleep and multiple time zones were involved. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Keeva smiled and went to the door. “Aye, my talented friend. Good rest to ye. May yer dreams ease ye into the wonder of Scotland’s magical arms.”
“Indeed.” When the door clicked behind Keeva, Lyla exhaled. “Thank goodness.” She grabbed the tote she’d dropped on the couch when she’d sagged into the cushions and carried it into the bedroom. Sparse but clean and designed for comfort, the room had everything she needed: a plump double bed that looked like it was made for sleeping late into the morning, a huge oak wardrobe instead of a closet, a sweet little dressing table with a large oval mirror, and a small lizard catching the last rays of the afternoon sun on the window ledge. It kept its iridescently golden eyes trained on her, watching her every move. “I’ll makeyou a deal, Mr. Lizard. We can happily coexist in this space as long as you stay out of my bed and eat any bugs you come across. I don’t have a problem with you visiting, but I don’t particularly want to touch you or wake up and find you sitting on me. Okay?”
The reptile blinked, and she took that as a positive sign.
“And bonus points if you can help me figure out who keeps talking to me in my head.”
The lizard lifted its head higher and blinked—twice in rapid succession.
She released a heavy sigh. “I know. But I promise I’ve never been nuts before. Hopefully, it’s a passing phase brought on by stress.” As she unpacked and lined up her shoes and boots on the floor beside the wardrobe, she turned back to her tiny, scaly roommate. “Oh, and don’t hide in my shoes. That might not end well if I forget and put them on without checking to make sure you’re not in there first.” That prospect made her shudder.
After finding her toiletries and favorite pair of flannel pajamas, she headed to the bathroom only to discover that it had a vintage, free-standing, claw-foot bathtub and no shower. Disappointed, since she didn’t particularly like sitting in her own filth, she shrugged. There was nothing to be done about it other than embrace it, and once she sank into the steaming water, her tensed muscles voted unanimously that it wasn’t all that bad at all.
“Ye are beautiful beyond compare, dear Lyla. A virtual goddess.”
“Do you mind? I’m in the tub and would like a little privacy,” she said to the man in her head, her raspy voice echoing in the acoustics of the tiled room. She covered herself as much as she could with the oversized washcloth. “You’re creeping me out bad enough by just talking to me. Don’t talk to me while I’m naked. Agreed?”
“Ye are quite right, my lady. Forgive me.”
Damn. Now the voice answered her? She sank lower in the tub until the surface of the water touched her chin, which was ridiculous since the water was clear. What did she think she was possibly hiding? She grabbed another washcloth off the shelf beside her and spread it across her top half while tugging the other washcloth more prudishly across her bottom bits. “You better be gone. I need to relax in here for a while.”
The voice didn’t answer, which she found somewhat disappointing.
Closing her eyes, she sank lower, completely submerged, and stayed under until the count of ten. Then she pushed up, washed her hair, and rinsed it, all the while feeling as if someone was watching. Then she noticed the lizard had moved from the bedroom to the radiator in the bathroom, observing her with beady-eyed interest.
