Everlastin' Book 1 by Mickee Madden Read Free Book Online

at least her mind was
prepared to wage resistance.
    She understood only too well
what isolation and loneliness could do to the psyche.
    “One day at a time,” she
whispered.
    Drawing herself up into a
sitting position, she gazed absently about her surroundings. She
couldn't help but wonder how she was going to feel in the
morning.
    Waking up in such a
magnificent house.
    In Scotland.
    Alone.
    She frowned at the latter
and rose from the bed. A chill moved along the skin of her arms.
Hugging herself, she sighed deeply.
    Never would she have
imagined being lonelier than those weeks following her mother's
death. But she felt it now. An isolation so intense it almost
possessed substance.
    Her throat
tightened.
    She wasn't particularly fond
of the shadows accompanying her. Candlelight did not hold the
renowned romantic ambiance when one was alone, in a manor, in a
strange country.
    “Or abundant in
imagination,” she murmured.
    Massaging the back of her
neck, she cast a look of despair in the direction of the
door.
    “I wonder if he plays cards.
Knock, knock. Oh, Lachlan, would you care for a game of Gin Rummy?
Oh. Okay. How about Go Fish?”
    She grimaced.
    “I'd settle for a deck to
play a game of solitaire—not that I could see much in this
lighting.”
    Something intruded upon her
awareness.
    Turning her head sharply to
look at the windows, she tried to swallow down the feeling of her
heart rising into her throat. Impressions bombarded her. A strong
sense of not being alone filled her completely. Straining to see in
the dim, flickering light, she held her breath.
    The air about her stirred.
Gooseflesh broke out all over her skin.
    “Lachlan,” she called, but
the sound was little more than a hoarse whisper.
    He had told her he was
across the hall. She could cry out and hope he didn't believe she
was a hopeless weakling who was spooked by a mere draft.
    Or...she could go to his
door.
    Shivering, she gave her head
an adamant shake.
    Scratch that. You don’t
need to encourage him, Beth.
    If she approached him now,
he would construe it as her wanting more than a little company to
temper her jitters. Old houses were infamously drafty. Baird House
was no exception.
    But it did no good for her
to repeatedly tell herself this.
    Hastily changing into her
nightgown, she left her day clothing on the floor and scrambled
beneath the bed covers, which she cowered beneath. Pain throbbed at
her temples. Tears pressed behind her eyes.
    “Dammit, get a grip on
yourself,” she whimpered as something air-light moved against her
exposed cheek. She yanked the covers over her head, her deathlike
hold cramping her fingers. After several long minutes, the
ridiculousness of scaring herself like this elicited a dry chuckle
from her.
    A cry rang out.
    For a horrible moment, she
feared she had released the unearthly wail.
    Those damn birds! she thought.
    Unclenching her hands, she
turned onto her side and folded her arms against her chest.
Although the covers remained over her head, she found herself
laughing.
    “Beth Staples, it's pretty
bad when you cringe at the cry of a bird.”
    She continued to laugh,
flexing her legs between the warmth of the bed and
covers.
    “Mary had a little lamb, its
fleece as white as snow; and when Mary lost her little lamb, it
came back to haunt Baird house. Ha-ha.”
    She drew in a deep breath.
This was no way to spend her first night in Scotland. Determined to
prove to herself that she was alone in the room, she bolted up,
tossing back the covers.
    For the first second, relief
washed through her. Then she spied movement at the foot of her bed.
She watched as a greenish mist shifted as if in response to her
unexpected action. The flame atop the candle flickered, almost
extinguished, and righted once again. Her gaze cut briefly to it,
then back. The mist was now positioned to the left of her bed. Its
soft glow dimmed. Seemed to fade before brightening and moving
closer.
    “Lannie?” she choked. “No.
No, go