Gerald rolled his eyes at me. “They’re so formal around here; all Mister this and Miss that. Still—I kinda like it.”
“He didn’t look so formal to me,” I said, pulling up a chair. “I caught hell for sitting on the bed yesterday. This nurse is more of a rule-breaker, maybe?”
Gerald’s eyes twinkled. “Jes’ the way I like ’em ,” he said. “Now—tell me. Did you get to the circle? What happened?”
“No, I did not get to the circle. It’s almost two hours away from here—halfway to Inverness!”
Gerald looked crestfallen. “I know that. But I thought you’d hop in a cab and be there before dusk.”
“Well, I plan to do that today, after I see you.”
This news brightened him up considerably. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear what happens,” he said, happily.
“Well, in the meantime, I did go to your haunted castle,” I said, digging around in my pack for the map. I found it and smoothed it out on the bed.
“Leoch,” he breathed, reverently. “Did you …”
“Leoch my eye,” I interrupted. “I checked it out online, Gerald. Jamie’s Leoch must have been based on Castle Leod, which is the actual seat of the clan Mackenzie. A real place—not this little wee ruin in the middle of nowhere.”
He narrowed his eyes. ”Where did you hear that?”
“I told you. On the Internet. I found pictures and everything.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Well, damn. No wonder I didn’t see a ghost. Although I did hear tell that a piper has been known to haunt the battlements …”
I cleared my throat. “So—you know we’re not really looking for ghosts here, right? Anyway, I didn’t find one either, unless you count a writer with a broken ankle.”
Gerald nodded his head appreciatively as I told him the whole story. When I mentioned Jack’s name, he let out a little shriek of joy.
“Jack Findlay? Not THE Jack Findlay? Did you just about die of excitement?”
“Um—no. He’s a pretty nice guy, though. He was doing research at the castle. I think he lives around here, somewhere. How do you know him?”
Gerald actually fanned himself. “Girl—you need to get yourself an education. Have you not read his Dragon Thane books? The man can write!”
I shrugged. “Haven’t read a word. They’re good, are they?”
“After OUTLANDER, they’re my favorite books. Let’s just say he keeps a decent amount of swash under his buckle. Action, romance, a sprinkling of magic—they’ve got it all. I can’t believe no one’s told you about them, you bein’ such a Jamie and Claire fan and all.”
“I’ll make sure to read one as soon as I can,” I promised.
“Well, you might want to wait. Rumor is a new book is comin’ this year, about Braveheart. It’s gonna be hot, honey.”
He squeezed my hand, and I stood up.
“I’d better run if I’m going to make my bus,” I said, and stuffed the map into my pack.
“Write it all down, girl. I need to hear about every detail of that circle, y’hear? I’ll be checking the blog every day.”
“I promise.” I hurried to the door, relieved that Gerald was looking so much better. I flashed a quick final wave, ran out into the hallway and right into the arms of the dark-haired nurse. Unfortunately, those arms were carrying a tray loaded with cups of juice.
Not a single cup was saved.
“I am so, so sorry,” I kept repeating, as I helped chase down the paper cups, which were rolling in all directions.
The nurse smiled bitterly and waved over an orderly. “Can you arrange a wet-mop cleanup, Nelita? Thanks so much.”
He stood up, the tray in one hand and surveyed the front of what had, moments before, been a pristine uniform. He was soaked from chin to ankles.
I handed him the stack of mostly crushed Dixie cups. Apart from a splash on the toe of one of my shoes, the wave of juice had entirely, uncharacteristically, missed me. “I am so sorry,” I said again, rendered inarticulate by the magnitude of the disaster.
He glanced through the open door at Gerald, who was doubled over laughing, and then grinned at me, a little more earnestly than before. “Well, you’ve clearly amused our patient, and that’s something. And luckily, I’m washable.”
“Oh, thank you for being so understanding,” I stammered. “I—I have to run for a bus now, but if there is anything I can do—pay for the cleaning—anything.” I pushed one of my cards into his hands.
“Nonsense,” he said, tucking the card into his pocket. “All in a day’s work. I’ve another set of scrubs down in my locker. I’ll just make sure Gerald hasn’t laughed himself into an injury, and then go change.”