Page 54 of Kilt Trip

Any malevolent spirits who must have lurked these halls were long gone...but Addie wouldn’t set foot there in the dark, not after the night she’d had.

The group ascended an altogether too-creaky ladder to the top of a tower Addie wasn’t sure could hold their weight. Scaffolding supported the other side, but the view from the top—high above the crinkle of the water meeting the sheer, rocky bank—was worth the danger.

Safely back on land, Logan told the tourists to enjoy exploring the rest of the site, dip their hands in the frigid water, and make sure they didn’t get nipped by Nessie. Then his fingers were a soft pressure on Addie’s elbow, turning her from the group. “I have something to show you.”

“Are you, Logan Sutherland, deviating from the script?”

He probably had stories to fill another few hours about clan chieftains, Nessie sightings, and prehistoric building techniques.

“I can be spontaneous.”

“I’ll bet.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her sarcasm.

Addie followed him past the tower and over a rolling slope of green grass facing the banks of Loch Ness. The leafless trees stood guard over the water, lined up in ascending height like the kids in The Sound of Music.

“What are we looking at? Is that Nessie?” Streaks of sunlight glinted across the ripples of the lake, enough to trick her eyes into a sighting.

“It’s her photo.”

Addie’s heart gave a one-two punch against her rib cage. She’d been so focused on teasing him, she hadn’t realized where he was taking her.

Loch Ness would never make it on his itinerary. He’d done this just for her.

Logan pulled his phone from his sporran, swiped to the summer version of this scene, and held it up to the lake.

She wouldn’t have recognized the similarity without the full-leafed trees, but the lake was the same gray-blue. The same shadowy hills rose out of the water along the horizon to touch the sullen expanse of the sky.

Addie’s limbs tingled, her nerve endings flooding with excitement or grief—either way, rushing too quickly to spread the news, she was here.

Heather had probably touched that water, those tree trunks.

Before Addie knew what she was doing, she stood on the bank, ran her hand down the smooth, light bark of the towering trees and scooped the water, so cold it burned her fingers.

She was here.

Addie’s heart beat unsteadily, off-center and jerky.

The air felt colder. Maybe it was simply being close to the water.

Or maybe some lingering whisper of a ghost hovered around her. Not a haunting presence, a soothing one. A stroke over hair. A cup of a cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into it.

Mom.

Addie’s throat thickened as the lake and sky blurred together. Tears fell on the pebbled bank. She committed to memory the sound of the tiny waves lapping at her wellies, the heaviness of the clouds above her, the murky smell of this legendary lake.

A place that tied her to her mom through time.

Addie could see Heather sitting cross-legged on the shore, ponytail pushed through her baseball hat, her binoculars pressed to her eyes—the ones she bought for birding and football games but almost always forgot at home. Could picture her gasping and grabbing Brian’s arm every time she saw a ripple.

For hours.

God, Addie would give anything for just one of those endless afternoons she hadn’t appreciated at all.

A twig snapped, and Logan crouched beside her, running his hand gently up and down her back. She stood and stepped away, flushing, and wiped tears with the heel of her hand.

Addie blinked quickly. “Sorry.” Her voice broke on the word. It’d been a long time since she’d missed her mom quite so physically.

---