Page 63 of Wild Scottish Rose

“True.” Owen tilted his head as he thought about it. “I suppose that’s a bit of a lie, isn’t it? Don’t worry, I didn’t ask a single question. I let them interrogate me and gave nothing but the truth.”

“Promise?” I asked.

“Of course.” Owen swung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in as we turned down a lane with cobblestone streets. “Sometimes you just have to play the game, Shona. I’m new in town, I’m asking questions they don’t like. If it helps them to feel more comfortable with me, then I’m game. Next time I have a talk with them, maybe they’ll open up more. But I’ll be sober when I do it and they’ll know what information I’m after. It’s a win-win.”

“But—”

A blur of light and fur stopped us in our tracks, and I was screaming before my feet left the ground and Owen was racing down the street, carrying me in his arms like a fireman would carry a victim out of a burning building.

“What the hell was?—”

“Ahhhhh!” We both screamed again as a Highland coo materialized in front of us, bellowing.

“What does it want?” Owen demanded.

“How the hell do I know?” I gasped, wrapping my arms so tightly around Owen’s neck that he choked.

“You live here.”

“That doesn’t mean I know what the ghosts want.” I eyed the coo dubiously as it tilted its head at us.

He disappeared.

“What the hell?” Owen gasped, and I realized I was crushing his windpipe. I eased my grip.

“Sorry about that.”

“Was that a ghost cow?”

“A coo,” I corrected. “A Highland coo, to be exact. I think his name is Clyde.”

“Clyde? You name your ghost coos here?”

Another bellow sounded directly behind us, almost taking us to the brink of death from fright, and Owen careened in a wide arc, turning until we saw Clyde with my walking stick at his feet. I’d dropped it in fright.

“He brought you your stick,” Owen said, marveling at the coo. I released my arms and slid down his body, gingerly bending to pick up my cane, praying the coo didn’t make any sudden movements.

“Thanks, Clyde.”

“I have to get this on camera,” Owen said, reaching for the camera bag slung around his shoulder.

Instantly, Clyde disappeared. Owen frowned.

“Clyde? Buddy? Come on back. We want to play!”

“I don’t think he wants to be on camera,” I said.

None of us wanted this to be on camera, I added silently.

Owen caught my expression and stopped fiddling with his camera bag. He was astute, I’d give him that.

“That’s fair. We should all have a choice in what we want to share.”

The way he said it, like he knew that I was holding back on him, made my stomach twist. Even so, I wasn’t yet ready to tell him about my magick.

The right time would present itself. I took his hand.

“Come on, Hollywood. Let’s get food.”

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