Page 10 of The Finest Scottish Fate

“’Tis merely the way of Scotland.” Morganna slowed the vehicle to a crawl. “We’re near the eastern coast, and it does this often. ’Tis easy enough to find our way to Craig Durness. There are no turnoffs until we arrive. As long as we keep to the road, we’ll be finer than fine. We canna stop and wait every time the haar comes in, or we’d never get anywhere.”

Evie pulled her hand back inside, so tense that she popped each of her knuckles. The only other car wreck she’d ever experienced, she’d miraculously survived. Her parents and siblings had not, leaving her with her grandparents to raise her. She didn’t want to revisit anything remotely close to that—not even something as minor as a fender bender.

Heart pounding to the point of breathlessness, she eyed the dangerous mist, easily imagining the worst. “What did you call this weather again?”

“The haar. ’Tis the name of this sort of fog. A heavy mist that rolls in off the sea.”

“Does it do this often?”

“It does it whenever it wishes.” Morganna tapped on the windshield and pointed at the area where the headlights illuminated the roadside just inches in front of them. “See those stones along the edge there? Those let us know we’ve not veered off course. We’ll keep to them and be fine.”

“Well, if you say so.” Evie concentrated on calming her breathing, then glanced down at her watch to check her heart rate and frowned. A tap of its screen did nothing. “Seriously? My watch stopped. I just charged it last night.” The electronic dial suddenly glowed with renewed brilliance, and the numbers rapidly changed, first increasing as though the time zone had jumped ahead and then decreasing as though they’d jumped back. Even the year changed, then returned to the correct number. She tapped on the screen again, and it went black. “Dang it, I just bought this, and it wasn’t cheap.”

Morganna nodded. “Aye, that means we’re almost there. Craig Durness and those kinds of timepieces dinna get along verra well at all. Callum says it’s something to do with ley lines, magnetic fields, and shifting polarity. I’ve no idea about all that. All I know is that most watches or clocks—at least, digital ones—dinna work hereabouts.”

“Well, that’s just freakin’ great. How will I know what time it is?” Evie wistfully pressed her ear to the timepiece, hoping that the app she’d downloaded to make it tick like an old-fashioned wind-up watch would give her a little reassurance. The expensive yet now worthless bit of metal and glass remained silent. She picked up her phone and groaned. “And no signal? I thought you said my phone would work here. The time on it doesn’t look right either.”

“It will be all right, I promise. We’re not there yet. Once we reach the village, it’s sure to be better.”

A choking sense of helplessness closed icy fingers around Evie’s throat and squeezed, making her swallow hard to keep from gasping. She hated being cut off from the world. It wasn’t natural. Well, maybe it was natural, but she wasn’t exactly a back-to-nature kind of person.

“Mockingbird.”

She jerked and sat straighter. Hands on the dashboard, she stomped her right foot, instinctively pawing for the brake pedal that wasn’t on her side of the vehicle. “Stop the car.”

Morganna did, then turned to her with a bewildered look. “Are ye all right? Do ye need a bit of fresh air?”

“Did you not hear that?” Evie threw open the door and stepped out, hanging on to it as she strained to hear every sound in the murky evening mist. “I distinctly heard a man call out, Mockingbird.”

And then she saw him. Up ahead. Sauntering toward her with the smoldering, slow-motion gait of an epic fantasy hero coming to sweep her up into his arms and carry her away to a happily ever after.

His shoulder-length hair was as dark and sleek as a crow preening in the sunshine. He possessed the massive, muscular build of an alpha male who would dare anyone to defy him. The fog swirled around him, loving the opportunity to slide across his impressive body, and she didn’t blame it. He wasn’t wearing a kilt, which she found odd. After all, this was Scotland. Not that she was complaining. His open-throated tunic and dark, formfitting pants tucked into knee-high boots provided a very fine view. A black woolen jacket and matching cloak perfectly framed his broad shoulders. The only place she’d ever seen a man like him before was in the movies or on the cover of a romance novel.

And yet there was something eerily familiar about him. His dark eyes. She’d bet her last dollar that she’d looked into those eyes before—many times, in fact. But how?

Bending to look back inside the car, she asked Morganna, “Do you know him?”

Morganna frowned, then leaned forward, peering out the windshield. “Him, who?”

“Him!” Evie went to point at the handsome man, but he was gone. “Hey, where did he go?”

“There is no one there.” Morganna cleared her throat and nodded at Evie’s seat. “I think the fog’s lifting a bit. Come along now. Let’s be on our way.”

“I saw a man,” Evie insisted, stepping away from the car and walking toward the last spot he’d been. She pointed at it. “Right here. The sort of guy who makes you forget how to talk. All you can do is stare at him and hope he notices you.”

Morganna waved for her to return. “Well, there’s no one there now, and the fog’s finally thinning. Come along now. Do ye not wish to be done with all our traveling today?”

“He was right here,” Evie said under her breath, still searching the area for the best welcoming committee any place could have offered. Frustrated and confused, she slowly returned to the car and plopped back into her seat. “He was amazing. Dark hair. His muscles had muscles, and he was just”—she blew out a heavy sigh—“indescribable.”

“I’m sorry I missed him.” Morganna put the car back into gear and headed onward. “We can ask Callum about him. He takes care of Craig Durness, so to speak. Head of the town council. He’ll know of any newcomers.”

“That guy was amazing.”

“So ye said…in so many words.”

“But there was something else about him, too. Not just his…uhm…striking looks. There was something about his eyes.”

Morganna glanced at her and cocked a brow. “His eyes?”