CHAPTER 15
I was surprised to find Payton suddenly standing in front of me. Quickly, I slid out the front door, pulling it shut behind me, before anyone at home found out who had rung the bell.
“Come with me.” I tugged on his sleeve, leading him past several trees.
I hadn’t actually been counting on Payton to show up, but I was very happy to see him. In the last few days I hadn’t heard anything from him and I’d missed him awfully. I leaned against a tree trunk and looked my gorgeous visitor up and down.
Payton was pale. The expression on his face was a mystery, as usual, but he was holding my hand, which I took as a good sign.
“I missed you,” he said, though he glanced hastily over his shoulder.
“I missed you, too. Should we go somewhere else?”
He really didn’t seem comfortable here. And I didn’t want Alison or Roy to catch me with him. But I definitely did want to kiss this boy. I didn’t think I could wait much longer.
As we drove down the road, I regretted that I hadn’t asked him where he wanted to go.
“Ben Nevis?” I could hardly believe my ears. “Are you insane?”
There are several high hills in Scotland. If it’s higher than three thousand feet, the Scots call it a munro. At just over four thousand feet, Ben Nevis is not only the highest munro, but also the highest mountain in the British Isles.
“Come on, the hike takes only about four hours. You can do it!”
Not only was I completely out of shape for such a hike, but I wasn’t dressed for it—or the famously unsteady Scottish weather. On the other hand, I’d been wishing for some alone time with Payton. And counting the drive to and from Ben Nevis, we’d be together all day.
“OK,” I said hesitantly. “But we don’t have to go all the way to the top, do we?”
Payton laughed and reached for my hand.
“No, but did you know that it’s almost more difficult to get down than to go up?”
“What? Oh my God, why can’t we just go to a movie? That’s what the kids in the US do, you know?”
“Yes, I know. And that’s exactly why we are not going to do that,” he said. “I want your time in Scotland to be unforgettable. I want you to think of me every single day of your life. You have no idea how much I am dreading the day when you go back. I want to show you all my favorite places and then, when you are no longer here with me, I will at least remember where you laughed. Where you took my hand. Where your eyes lit up.”
I didn’t know what to say. He was right. I wanted to see his favorite spots. Wanted him always to think of me. I hated to watch the calendar, seeing my departure date constantly looming closer. So off we went. For a little hike.
After two hours of steep climbing, the view was spectacular. The town of Fort William was below us. On the horizon, the massive Highlands jutted upward to the sky. We were alone—just as I’d hoped—having not seen another hiker since our first twenty minutes in. At first, Payton and I talked as we went, but as the climb got more rigorous, our conversation stopped. Still, we maintained a wonderful feeling of connectedness.
“Payton, I need a rest.”
The muscles in my upper legs were burning. I sank into the grass and stretched out my arms and legs. Payton sat down next to me. He pushed a bottle of water into my hand and took off my shoes and socks.
“You are really doing well. We can take a break and keep going or just stay here. As you wish.”
I shut my eyes. The damp grass tickled my bare feet, Payton’s voice was like music, and the sun stroked my face. I had never been so happy in my entire life.
“I love you,” I murmured.
Oh my God, I thought. Did I really just say that out loud?
I opened my eyes a crack to check whether Payton had heard me. He looked happy, but he didn’t say anything. Then he grinned. He picked a long blade of grass and tickled my feet.
I laughed, opened my eyes the whole way, and sat up. Payton stroked my ear with the blade of grass, then along my cheek to my chin, and down my throat to my collarbone. His eyes were locked on mine the entire time.
I wasn’t laughing anymore. Instead, I was holding my breath and I felt very hot. I licked my lips. Payton’s eyes were full of passion. The blade of grass trembled as Payton brushed it past my neckline and over the soft curve of my chest. Then he bent over, brushed my hair out of my face, and brought his lips close to mine.
Suddenly, he jumped up. He pounded his feet into the ground and let out a string of snarling Gaelic sounds.
I was flustered—still confused about not receiving a kiss. But when he let out a pained cry and showed me his arm, I understood. Blood was running all over the place from a deep gash across his wrist. He had leaned onto a stray piece of broken glass.
“We need to apply pressure to that,” I said, jumping up and digging through his backpack.
“It’s not that bad. I’m sure it will stop in a moment.”
“No… it won’t. That cut is too deep.”
There was no way I’d let him resist. Since my mom is a nurse, I didn’t fool around when it came to first aid. I cleaned the wound with mineral water, put a clean tissue over the cut, and bound up his arm with my scarf. I knew he needed to get to a doctor as soon as possible. He was going to need a few stitches. And maybe a tetanus shot.
“Can you walk? Or are you dizzy?” I asked.
“Why?” Payton looked up, surprised. “Do you want to go up to the top after all?”
“Of course not! We’re going back. You have to go to the doctor!”
“You’re sweet, Sam, but I don’t need to go to the doctor for something minor like this.”
“Payton, you really don’t have to act cool around me.”
“I have gotten over far worse injuries before, believe me.”
Payton sat down. He was twisting a blade of grass between his fingers again. My cheeks turned scarlet when I thought about the feelings he had awakened in me using one tiny blade of grass. He rolled the grass between his fingers absentmindedly, and I was unable to think a single normal thought.
“We’re not going any further, OK?” I said when I’d recovered. “We are going to go back down, slowly.”
Payton nodded, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere.
“Sam, if I were to tell you something unbelievable, would you still believe me?”
“It depends on what it is. Try me.”
“No, it doesn’t work like that.”
He lay back in the grass and said nothing. Now I was really curious.
“Well, I don’t think you have any reason to lie to me,” I said, “so I would assume that you were telling the truth. Am I making any sense?”
Payton grinned, but he still remained silent.
“So…” I tried to gather my thoughts. “I guess that means I trust you, and I’ll believe anything you tell me.”
His smile got bigger.
“If I had proof,” he said, “then it would be even better. Someone like you, someone who analyzes everything so logically, would have no doubts at all when presented with proof.”
“Well, sure, proof would definitely be helpful, but I trust you to begin with.” Ceremoniously, I raised my hand as if swearing an oath.
Payton sat up and laid his bandaged arm in my lap.
Then he nodded. “Take it off.”
“What?”
“The scarf. Take it off.”
“No, we need to keep pressure on it.”
“Sam, I thought you said you trusted me. Take it off!”
Startled by his tone, I fumbled as I unknotted the scarf and unwound it layer by layer. The tissue I had put over the cut was only slightly bloody in the center.
“Carry on!”
Payton kept his eyes on me. My fingers shaking, I carefully lifted the tissue. I looked at his arm in disbelief as my fingers gently touched the rapidly healing cut.
“How is that possible?”
He draped his healthy arm over mine and shrugged.
“Payton, how…?” I didn’t know what it was I wanted to ask. What I could see was absolutely impossible.
He lifted my face with one fingertip and looked me in the eye. His eyes were full of pain when he asked uncertainly, “Do you want me to tell you a story?”
I nodded and knew that what was to come next would change everything.
Payton closed his eyes. He didn’t know where to begin. He wanted Sam to understand why he couldn’t kiss her, although there was nothing else he would rather do. His voice trembling, he began to tell her his story.
“It was the year 1740. A group of young Scots went out one evening to take revenge for cattle theft. In the Highlands, the clans had been fighting for ages; sadly, this type of thing was common, particularly if one clan felt another clan had grown weaker.
“At age sixteen, the boys were already men, working, going to battle, or dying in fights. But at that time, the Stuart clan was weak. Their chieftain had recently died, and it wasn’t clear who was to be his successor. The eldest son would not necessarily make the best chieftain, so there were bitter fights within the clan—even between siblings—over who should be the next leader.
“The Stuarts’ eldest son, Cathal, was elected.”
Payton looked into Sam’s eyes. Her hand was still lying on his arm, covering the wound. He continued.
“Cathal knew that allowing the cattle thefts on his borderlands was making him appear to be a weak leader. That kind of thing could split the clan apart, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. So that is why about twenty men went to the neighboring enemy clan—to take back their cattle.”
He paused. “But right from the start this venture was doomed.”
“Why?” asked Sam.
“Let’s just say that it would have been better had Cathal not acted so rashly. The warrior’s intention was to let the enemy clan know that they would use violence if necessary to settle the damages. And surely everything would have turned out differently if…”
Payton swallowed. Even after all these years, it was hard to report the death of his youngest brother. He cleared his throat and squeezed Sam’s hand. “If Kyle hadn’t died!”
“Kyle?”
“Yes, the youngest of the alliance. He wasn’t supposed to be there at all that night, but he rode after the others, secretly following them. Cathal had spotted him in the distance and immediately sent someone back to take Kyle home. But it was already too late. Kyle had been attacked—stabbed from behind with a short dagger. He had drowned in his own blood.
“That cowardly and perfidious attack changed everything. Now everyone wanted to take revenge. No one stopped to consider the consequences. Within a few minutes, they had charged the enemy’s castle. It was the middle of the night, and most of the inhabitants were asleep.”
“What happened then?” Sam asked.
The terrible pictures raced around in Payton’s head. He couldn’t stop the images, but he couldn’t tell Sam what he saw. Couldn’t explain his guilt or what he had done.
“Payton… what happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that is important is that fate was determined by that moment. A curse was laid on Cathal and the warriors with him that night. A curse that took everything away from them.”
“A curse? Did the men believe in things like that?”
“It has nothing to do with believing. You don’t have to believe something or want to acknowledge it if you have to live with it every day.”
“Well, what kind of curse was it?”
“The worst. Each and every one of them was cursed to live a life without any feeling—without love, without warmth, without pain. Only emptiness. And they would suffer that for all eternity, because they were never going to die.”