“What a coincidence.” Her eyes flicked away and back, but not before I noticed her tracking the journal. “Because I was just thinking you might want to go through your aunt’s things sooner rather than later.”
Although Vee’s words made sense, and my aunt’s belongings did need to get back in their proper place, I worried her suggestion was some kind of ploy to separate me from the journal. I wouldn’t keep it from her forever, just long enough to read it myself and determine if the contents would help or hurt her obsession with Kilt Boy. But in the meantime, I needed her out of the way so I could hide the book. “While I’m doing that, maybe you should take a shower?”
She hesitated, her eyes flicking again to the book in my hand. “I think I might try to take a nap first … I feel like I’m still suffering from jetlag.”
A nap would work as well, but I wasn’t kidding about her needing to bathe. Tucking the journal into my waistband, I replied, “Get some rest then. I’ll wake you up in plenty of time to get clean and pretty for our first evening out in Alloway. Unless you want to show up at the tavern smelling like Stinking Beauty. But if you do, I can guarantee no kilt-wearing hottie is going to come within fifty feet, let alone kiss you.”
CHAPTER 4
Veronica
Ye all ought ta be verra careful as ye traverse these hallowed roads this eve … or risk goin’ the way o’ Old Meg and lose yer own tail!”
With a flourish of his blue-veined hand, the old man finished his recitation of the Tam o’Shanter to raucous cheers and applause from the crowd. His shriveled face, covered in brown spots, reminded me of the dried-up crabapples that littered our backyard in Indiana. Strike that—Janet and Bob’s yard in Indiana. Grasping my mug of ale, I took a huge swallow, the bitter liquid coating my tongue and flowing in a warm path down to my stomach. With the back of my hand, I swiped the foam from my upper lip and glanced across the table at Kenna. Her auburn hair caught glints of light in the otherwise dim tavern as she bounced in her chair applauding the old actor’s performance. I envied her ability to live in the moment, enjoying every experience without the encumbrance of her past or any worry for her future.
Earlier, when she’d woken me from a three-hour nap, I’d felt like somebody’d roofied my tea. My brain spun with the local legends and folklore I’d read the night before, desperately trying to make some connection to my waking visions. Even now, as I sat shoulder to shoulder with Kenna and Ally at the old Tam O’Shanter Inn, Jamie clung to my thoughts like Spanish moss. I couldn’t help but wonder when he would show up again.
I let my gaze wander to the low beamed ceiling and the walls darkened with three centuries of smoke and grime. This place was straight off the pages of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. A perfect backdrop for an ethereal visitation. Then again, on closer inspection, the eighteenth-century pretense didn’t quite hold under the harsh flicker of electric torches and our server’s neon-pink gym shoes peeking out from under her peasant skirt.
Returning my attention to the occupants of our cozy corner table, I watched Ally lean back in her seat, eyes half closed, soaking in the atmosphere. Kenna, on the other hand, craned her neck, her back hunched at an odd angle as if she were searching for something she’d dropped. “Hey, Ken, did you lose something?”
“Nope, just looking for hobbits.” She straightened with a lopsided grin. “Doesn’t this place remind you of the Shire?”
I barked out a laugh, the mouthful of ale I’d just swallowed in danger of spewing out of my nose. “I was thinking Sleepy Hollow, but yeah, I can totally see Bilbo here.”