Ghosts of Culloden Moor 12 - Dougal by L. L. Muir

Author:L. L. Muir [Muir, L. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-11-17T08:00:00+00:00

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Hannah went through her nightly ritual to help her relax, and when the worry over the house reared its ugly head, she refused to think about it. The decision had been made for her. It was all spilt milk now, and this time someone else was to blame for spilling it.

Not her monkeys. Not her zoo.

Well, it soon wouldn’t be. So she wasn’t going to waste one more sleepless night searching for a solution because there wasn’t one. She’d played her last card and lost the game. Time to move on.

And she wasn’t going to waste time worrying about the two men she’d left in the kitchen, either. They were big boys. They could take care of themselves. And she was certain Dougal Cameron would make sure Donny left the house. His nose had curled, ever so slightly, each time he’d looked at the deputy—he didn’t like the guy any more than she did.

She only wished Dougal would always be around to run the man off.

She smiled, when she remembered how bent out of shape Donny had been when Dougal stepped out of the shadows. She only wished she could find a way to make Donny mad enough to never come back.

He was delusional, obviously, because he assumed she had never gotten over him just because she’d moved back to town, like she’d arranged to inherit her grandmother’s house just to be closer to him. And she worried that someday, his delusion was going to shatter, and he wouldn’t handle it well. Maybe the day his wife followed him to Hannah’s house and confronted him.

She spit all thoughts of Donny into the sink with the last bit of toothpaste and washed him down the drain.

“Not tonight. Not worrying about anything tonight.”

She opened the window to let the cool canyon breeze inside and looked for some sign of life in the work shed. But there was no movement, no light. Either the Scot had already gone to bed or he was fumbling around looking for a light switch.

“Not my problem,” she muttered, then climbed into bed and pulled the sheet over her. She was so tired she could cry. But she wouldn’t waste time doing that either. Instead, she rubbed her cheek against her grandmother’s smooth percale pillowcase and let sleep take her.

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