To Scotland for Love by Lizbeth Selvig

Author:Lizbeth Selvig
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Webster Publishing
Published: 2022-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A shrill wailing woke Noah in the pitch dark, and he squeezed his eyes shut against a nightmare starring mewling brown-and-white goats galloping through his garage back in Minnesota. He shuddered in his bed, glad for the interrupted dream, until the wail came again. What the...? Was the stupid goat outside the house now? What was wrong with that mentally disturbed animal?

The sound came again, more sustained this time.

No, not a goat. A baby.

For a long moment, his sleep-deprived brain could make no sense of such a thing. Then everything came back in a rush of clarity. Ainslie’s sister Isla had returned home yesterday, but he’d barely caught a glimpse of the seventeen-year-old before rushing off to Glasgow. He’d not seen her baby at all. What was its name? Earth? Fire? Skye? Skye.

He rubbed his eyes and opened them. The only illumination in the room came from an old-fashioned clock radio on the bedside table. Two forty-seven a.m.

The crying didn’t stop. In fact, it grew in volume momentarily and then he heard footsteps in the hallway followed by the creak of stairs as the wailing baby was carried down to the living room. He pulled the edges of his pillow up around his ears, but the interruption to his sleep had him aggravatingly wide awake. After only two full days, he could still chalk it up to jetlag, but he was so tired he should have been able to sleep through zombies.

But evidently not babies.

He’d spent so little time around infants he had no idea if this would be a regular occurrence now that Isla was home. Honestly, the last baby he’d held had been his own sister.

She’s a wee bit of a thing, isn’t she, Noah-love? Hold your arm under her head like so...

“Stop it,” he growled into the dark.

This mother’s voice thing was getting ridiculous. Ewan had told him about the strange memory games this place had played on him—comforting bits of the past, he’d said. To Noah they were more disturbing than comforting. Nobody could remember this many things from young childhood. Certainly not holding a baby when he was two-and-a-half.

And yet, four or five times now he’d heard words clear as if they were being spoken in his ear. Some, like the ones he’d heard the day before, he hadn’t wanted to share even though Mairi had pressed for details. They’d been too personal. Embarrassing, truth be told. He could still hear them.

You are different, Noah. You aren’t like your brother or your sister. When you learn to open up and let people in, even a wee bit, you’ll find you will be able to understand them and their souls better than most.

His face went warm in the dark. It wasn’t real. And yet, he could hear her sweet brogue as if she spoke in his ears. His mother had known him inside and out the way only a mother could. The way his stepmother never had. He hadn’t always been wary of closeness, although

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