She leaned, doe-eyed with puckered lips, and whispered, “Come back ta me after ye help Veronica save the world. Then you kin have all the kisses ye like.”
Abruptly, Fiona spun out of Fergus’s reach and mounted her horse. Without a moment to lose, the rest of us followed her example. Together, we galloped to the fork in the trail where Fiona would take the low road back to Doon while we climbed the high road toward Muir Lea. Just after the split, before she disappeared from sight, Fiona looked back over her shoulder and bellowed, “Believe!”
CHAPTER 33
Mackenna
Thankfully, we encountered no bears or blizzards, which Vee had been worried about. But we’d had to abandon the horses at the end of the cart path and go the rest of the way on foot. It seemed a lifetime since I’d last hiked this hill carrying worries over whether or not the boy I liked wanted to kiss me. And if I’d let him. Now I fervently wished my cares were as trivial as kisses.
As we approached the mountain meadow the sky began to lighten to indigo and then fuchsia. Moments later, crimson, orange, and hot pink streaked across the heavens at an impossible rate as dawn became day. When we entered the woods on the far side of Muir Lea, the sun blazed down from high noon. By the time we finally crossed through the passage in the rocks that would lead us to the beach, the sun already hung low over the ocean, bathing the modern world in gold as it prepared to say good night. The whole day had lasted maybe thirty minutes.
The final descent into the real world had been murder in ballet flats. After Jamie’s kidnapping, Vee’d been so singularly focused on getting him back that she refused to waste any time on inconsequential things like practical clothes or clean underwear. The dress code for this pursuit was strictly formal.
We stumbled onto the beach at sunset looking like something from a high school horror movie. My gorgeous teal ball gown had been shredded by thorns and low-lying branches, and my sagging hairdo, complete with twisted tiara, flopped annoyingly over my right eye. Deranged Homecoming Queen was not a good look on me.
Duncan and Fergus, in their ragged dress kilts, looked like they’d just survived the Scottish zombie apocalypse. And Vee, well, she’d ripped off the bottom foot and a half of her scarlet gown ages ago. What was left of her tattered dress, plus the leaves and other debris poking from her hair, made her look like a crazed pixie. It gave me new insights into the integrity of some of my favorite TV shows. Saving the world while looking fabulous was next to impossible.
Although the beach had looked deserted during the climb down, the minute we touched the sand clumps of vacationers materialized. Weaving through a touristy maze of plastic lounge chairs, striped blankets, and oversized umbrellas, Duncan and Fergus did their best to temper their reactions to the strange new surroundings as they followed our tiny fearless leader toward the parking lot.
Trading sand for asphalt, I glanced back at the beach just as the sun dipped beneath the horizon with a flash of green. Soon it would be night—only a few hours until the Centennial was over. A nearby sign announced Ayr Beach back the way we came, and Promenade, which I remembered, thanks to Ally, was the main oceanfront drive. Alloway was only a couple of miles away, but without a car, it might as well have been light-years. I placed my hand on Vee’s shoulder, grateful for the momentary rest. “What now?”
“We need a cab.” Without warning, she raced toward the promenade waving at a passing van. The cab slowed as the driver scrutinized our battered appearances. With a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Vee explained, “Bridal party. We were celebrating on the beach and must’ve passed out. We need a ride back to Alloway.”