KatherineStandell@peddlersgroup.com


There's many a man of the Cameron clan
that has followed his chief to the field.
He has sworn to support him or die by his side
for a Cameron never can yield.

I hear the piper sounding, sounding
deep o'er the mountain and glen,
while light footsteps are trampling the heather,
'tis the march of the Cameron men.

Oh, proudly they walk, but each Cameron knows
he may tread on the heather no more,
but boldly he follows his chief to the field
where his laurels were gathered before.

The moon has arisen it's shinning
on the path trod by gallant and true.
High, high are their hopes, for their chieftain has said whatever Cameron dare, they can do.

Chapter 1
Verdun, France, June 11th 1916


The smell of last nights rain still hung in the air, but even that fresh smell could not disguise the stench of burning flesh or the bitter tang of smoldering trees. Rebecca had been awake for hours crawling, dragging her aching body through the deep black mud. The trench she had taken refuge in the night before had become a bed for the river of oil, blood and feces. She wanted so badly to stand and walk or even run, if she only had the strength and the nerve. She stared ahead, along the black walls of the trench; bodies were stacked or sprawled in contorted shapes, each one tattooed with bloody red badges. Over the edge of the trench she heard the sound of the occasional rifle shot in the distance and she knew that with the rising of the grey dawn the fighting would start again.

Passing body after body did not bother her anymore, she had become so use to seeing the dead that she no longer feared the cold gray corpses, in a way, she envied them, at least they were free of fear.

A sarcastic smile crept across her face as she thought of death as freedom; things had changed a lot since she had taken up arms and joined the fight.

The second daughter of an old, Scottish family, Rebecca had wanted to follow her brothers when they had joined the military back in 1914, but as a girl she had been turned away. So she and her sister had done the next best thing, they received medical training and had volunteered to aid with the wounded. While her sister had remained in Scotland, but she had volunteered to go with a unit of the Black Watch, straight into the very heart of battle, Verdun in France.

At first it had been gratifying, knowing that she could provide comfort to those brave, and often, dying soldiers evacuated from the front lines. But, now, more often, she found that her face was the last one they saw.

She had been stunned, horrified by the brutality of the injuries. Times were changing and man had certainly developed; he had become quite creative in the art of war, constantly devising new and better tools to bring about horrible injury and death to his fellow man.

As the war dragged on and the numbers of dead grew, Rebecca found herself numbed to the sites of missing limbs and bloody stumps, of torn bodies and the cold face of death. Now she found herself appreciative of that pain ending angel. Death had become her ally. It was no longer the numbing horror that the sights of the dying brought, but anger and frustration as she realized her training and aid was no longer enough. No matter how hard she tried, the injured continued to die. She wanted to do more, but how.

One evening, as she sat quietly writing at her desk in the barn that served as the aid station for the British, Scottish and Belgium troops, a young man was brought in. Even lying on the stretcher she could tell that he was tall and slender. The dim light of the interior revealed a shock of red hair as dark as her own. He made no sound, no moaning of pain or discomfort, he had not moved once, even when he was badly jostled as the stretcher bearers hurriedly rolled him onto the first available cot.

Rebecca moved closer, curious to see what had brought this silent soldier to the aid station. She held a lamp high shining a light on the still figure on the canvas bed, slowly she approached noticing for the first time the blood tangled with the red of his hair close to his ears and the hairline at his neck.

'He must have a head injury, that would explain his silence.' she though edging towards the bed.

As she drew closer, she raised her lamp, the light initially showed her what she had suspected. The soldier had a terrible wound, he had been shot in the face, the entire lower half of it was missing. To add to that horrendous injury, the parts that remained appeared to be burned raw by the effects of heavy mustard gas. His nose, eyelids and the flesh of his forehead all swollen and red seeming to melt into the hole that had been his mouth and chin.

The lantern in Rebecca's hand trembled causing the light to dance across the mutilated features of the young man's face. It wasn't fear that made her hand shake, but anger. How could people do this to each other she wondered?

Turning she went to her work station to retrieve fresh bandages, a shallow bowl of clean water and some swabbing alcohol. Returning to the still form on the cot she knelt and began unbuttoning the mans' shirt. It was covered in dirt and some bits of flesh and blood, but otherwise was undamaged. Apparently the soldier must have fallen back immediately when he had been hit and most of the blood from his injury had run into his hair and ears. The burning effect of the mustard gas had actually acted as a cauterizing agent, sealing the worst of his injuries enough to slow the flow of blood, this had kept him alive, though she doubted he would have wished it. She imagined his face before the bullet had torn away the lower half of it. His skin was pale white with creamy freckles in places that had been spared by both bullet and gas. If he had been able to open his eyes she imagined they would be green.

She poured alcohol into the bowl of water then added several of the large bandages, carefully twisting the gauze she used the damp cloth to gently wipe away the caked blood on the young mans face. As she worked she began humming a soothing children's lullaby, it had become a habit for her whenever she needed to concentrate. She focused on the tune and blocked out everything else, here mind a blank slate, clean of emotion, clean of fear, clean of hate.

As she worked she failed to notice the pale white hand that slowly lifted from the cot and reached for her hands. She jumped when the cold waxy gray fingers wrapped around her wrist. Staring down at those dirty fingers with their torn nails she realized that her patient was awake. Her humming stopped and her eyes traveled slowly down the length of the slender arm, up the shoulder and on past the blood and tissue that covered the young mans' neck. Finally, fearfully they moved past the gaping hole and on to where his eyes should be. As she watched, the damaged flesh tore and clear red fluid leaked from the pit that held a sad green eye. As that battered face turned towards her she heard a sound, a moan resonating from the body, a heart wrenching plea to be left alone, to die with dignity.

Her hands hesitated as she and the young man, more a boy than a man, stared at each other. She understood what he wanted and though her heart agreed, she knew she should continue. Lifting his trembling hand from her arm she lowered it back to the cot and began again to wipe away the blood. As she reached his torn eye socket she saw that the green orb had rolled back. She threw the bloody gauze into the bowl and lowered her head to his chest, her ears straining to hear the thudding beat of a heart. Nothing. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt; dragging away the blood splattered tan cloth and placed her ear directly on his dirty undershirt, still nothing.

She sat there like that, her head on the dead boy man's chest for what may have been minutes but felt like eternity. Finally she raised her head and looked down at the now tear soaked shirt and sighed. Another dead boy, another child that would not go home and, she imagined, another mother to grieve.

Slowly Rebecca stood, picking up the bowl of red tinted water she went back to her station exhausted.

***

Eve Cameron sat at the head of an intricately carved oak table; she stared down at the thick sheath of paper in her hand it had been accompanied by a small dark brown box. She knew what both contained as soon as she opened the great manor door and stared out at the soldier in the British uniform. Behind him she had seen a car with a driver waiting, the engine still running. The soldier saluted sharply, handing the small package to the lady of the manor before turning and heading back to the car, he had many, many more stops to make he though sadly.

Eve sat in the heavy chair, its ancient leather back bearing the coat of arms of the Cameron clan; in her hands she held the clan's future. One hand slowly lifted the lid of the small box, exposing the bronze plaque to the evening sun.

"Dear Sir or Madam, we regret to inform you that your son...", Eve did not need to read the rest she knew what it would say. Her husband, Lord Charles Cameron, a Colonel in the 154th Brigade of the 51st Highlands, had fallen; he was not coming home, ever. Somehow, she felt it was for the better and in her heart she was relieved.

Charles at one time had been a good man, a gentle man, but, at first, he had been no different than any other twelve year old. A true free spirit, he had spent his inheritance as if money sprang from the garden grounds. He had flirted outrageously and flaunted his many mistresses in front of her at every opportunity. She had not cared, she had a son to raise and he kept her happy and very busy. That son was now in the United States living with her parents and living far away from the dangers of war.

Charles had though that the war would be a great adventure, and opportunity to prove himself, but that had all changed. On his last visit home, the womanizing fun loving clown she had grown to know, and love, was gone. The man that returned had been hardened; he laughed less often and took every opportunity to show her how much he cared for her. They had grown closer than they had ever been before and she had begun to learn to truly love the man. But soon the nightmares came bringing with them, sudden bouts of anger and violence. Finally it was these things that pushed her away, kept her at a distance and torturing him when he realized that he had lost control.

It had been a relief for them both when his leave ended. He seemed anxious to return to his unit and to the horrible task of killing. Their final evening together had be one of long conversations and slow love. She knew then, deep in her heart that he would not be coming home again.

Now, with Charles dead, and she, again resumed the responsibility of maintaining the estate for her son, the heir to the Cameron clan and all, however small, that heritage may entail.

Sighing, she folded the crisp clean letter and placed it back into the envelope; she picked it up along with the death plaque and moved to the library. There she took the keys from her pocket and opened the desk drawer, she slipped both into the center drawer, closed it, locked it and slipped the key back into her pocket. Turning she glanced back at the silent room taking one last look at a memory, then quietly left, pulling the door shut behind her.

Chapter 2

Rebecca stared into the mirror the face that reflected there seemed so different. Her hand reached up gently brushing down the red curls, her hair looked so different short. Green eyes stared first at the strands of red curls that lay in the sink, then to the dresser top in front of the mirror, where a thick braid of dark red hair lay, tied with the green velvet ribbon. Her neck felt funny without the weight of her hair, but to do what she needed to do the hair had to go.

Turning from the mirror she reached for the several rolls of bandages. She walked into her small bedroom, knowing after countless months of living in the small cramped space where everything was in the dim candle light. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and slipped her arms from soft cotton chemise, picking up the bandages she slowly, gently began wrapping them around her breasts pulling them tight. That done she reached for the white undershirt followed by the tan trousers and matching shirt. Sitting on the bed she slipped her feet into heavy wool socks, then strapped on the canvas like leggings and short dark brown boots. Standing she walked back to the bathroom mirror and looked in, looking back at her was a handsome young man with large green eyes and thick lashes. She smiled looking at her reflection and thought, for the first time, that her plan may work. She reached down and picked up the identification, the young red-haired soldier who had died on Rebecca's watch had provided her with a new name, Robert Edward Childress, ` Corporal, 16th Battalion of the Highland Light Infantry.

"Just call me Reb" she said, trying to lower her voice. Turning her body she tried to see herself from the rear as she walked away, this made her realize how tight the pants were in the seat.

"Humm, cute bottom and no ladies around to admire it, real shame, yes sir, a real shame." She grinned at her reflection forgetting for the moment exactly why she was dressed in such a manner.

That had been six months ago, long before she joined her unit, long before she had gotten separated from them in a hail of grenades, bombs, gas and bullets. Now she remembered exactly why she had wrapped her breasts, donned a uniform and joined the ranks, she had wanted to do something besides wait for men to come and die.

Now that she was on the front she could help ease the suffering, or so she thought. 'How naive I was, to think I could make a difference by coming to the front. Now I know the only difference I can really make is with my rifle and a great deal of luck.'

Reb pushed herself along the muddy river hoping to find a point where she could safely leave the trench and search for her unit. At one point, she thought of sacking the whole thing and turning herself in to the first Allied Officer she saw, but then she though, 'Why? No sense in going back home, there was nothing there she wanted. Even before she began her masquerade as a man, she had lost those that mattered most to her. Her family was scattered to the winds and she was not even sure if anyone had survived the war so far. Her whole world had changed; people that she had come to care about were dying. Now her only thoughts were to find her unit and kill the enemy.

She slid a bit further along the trench careful to keep a grip on her rifle sling and to keep the barrel up out of the black ooze. The sun had finally come up and the day had changed from the dark grey of twilight to the dull grey of dawn. Ahead of her, a body blocked her path, a French soldier lay on his back, his rifle still gripped in his hands, his face frozen with the shock of death, his throat had been torn away.

Reb stopped long enough to search his body for ammunition before she crawled over him and continued on. The trench she lay in was between La Morte Homme and Cumieres, close to the city of Verdun. She knew that they had to hold the line here, stop the Germans here, if they got past her and the others and took Verdun, Paris would be lost.

Ahead she heard voices, French voices, she thought in relief. The trench seemed to get wider and deeper here and she found she could stand in a crouch and shuffle along the trench. The dirt was much firmer underfoot now, and up ahead she spotted the soldiers she had heard earlier. She squinted her eyes trying to see the shoulder patch; they wore a patch she recognized. This was the French sister unit, to her lost unit. She grinned in relief when she saw them, but the grin faded quickly when she realized that they were farther away than she first though.

She felt her shoulders slump with exhaustion as she took a moment to leaned forward resting her hands on her knees and catching her breath. That was when she heard the first of them, a shrill screaming whistle that seemed to echo off of the trench walls. She glanced up and saw the French soldiers fix bayonets in preparation of a charge, just then the whistling stopped and the black soot and grime of the battered earth around her flew into the air as the round impacted. Reb was thrown back by the force; the wind knocked from her lungs as she hit the ground hard. She sat up, shaking the dirt from her short hair, the palms of her hands were skinned and bruised from the landing but she still had her rifle. Quickly, her eyes darting around for the steel helmet that had been torn from her head, seeing it several feet behind her, she crawled toward it as she heard more rounds coming in. Grabbing her helmet she slammed it on her head, slipped the chinstrap down under her chin and turned to run back towards the other soldiers. As she ran she felt the earth erupting beneath her feet as if hundreds of small volcanoes had some how all selected that moment to belch out in anger.

As she ran her eyes took in the site before her, a site her mind refused to believe. The men, an entire platoon of soldiers, were gone! There was nothing there but a wall of dirt.

Reb slowed to a stop her arms suddenly too heavy to lift as her rifle slipped to the ground. Stunned by what she saw, her legs gave under her and she collapsed onto her hands and knees. Crying silently she lifted her head to stare at the black wall of dirt that had once been a trench filled with men. As the tears crawled down her dirty cheeks she tried to put her thoughts together, where to now? For a moment the heavy shelling had stopped, an eerie quiet replaced the explosions. There were no birds, no soldiers talking, no sounds at all just a deathly calm. That was when she heard the scratching, staring at the wall she gasped as a small avalanche of dirt rolled down the side, piling in a mound at the base. As she watched the wall moved, first a hand, then an arm wiggled its way out of the dirt. The hand clawed at the black dirt that imprisoned it, trying to dig itself free. Grabbing her rifle again, Reb crawled forward, scrambling to help, she took the hand in hers, squeezing it to let the soldier know that she was there. They had to work together, if he was to live, they had to dig together. She slipped her pack from her back and laid her rifle on it; quickly she pulled her small trench shovel free and attacked the wall. The soldier continued to flail away at the dirt, now an arm and shoulder were free, soon a neck and face. They were going to do it, they would make it. The soldier smiled at her and she grinned back, happy to have another living thing with her. Then it started again, the huge German guns, far away, loud, destructive and uncaring. The shelling seemed even worse, the dirt heavier, each shovel full, each hand full, was quickly replaced by the dirt that rained down on them, a result of the heavy bombardment. First his face was gone, then the arm was buried again; the hand frantically scratched at the earth, then slowed its efforts, finally stopping, hanging limp and lifeless, like the naked white root of a dead tree. Reb threw down her shovel and grabbed the filthy hand; feeling for a pulse, a tiny thread of life beating, beating, beating...nothing.

"NO!" she screamed aloud, throwing her head back to scream again at fate and to the mindless rounds that continued to land around her. As the tears streamed down her face she dropped her head, shaking the dirt from her hair and spitting the clots from her mouth. Anger turned her world from gray to red as she looked for her rifle, realizing for the first time, that she was being buried as well. Seeing only a small portion of the rifle butt still visible through the dirt she reached down and struggling, pulled it free. Tapping it with the shovel she knocked most of the dirt from it then slung it over her shoulder. Tossing the shovel aside she abandoned her pack and ran. She didn't look back, so she didn't see the rain of dirt cascade down covering the limp white hand, nor did she see the bayonets gleaming in the sun like flashing deadly headstones that now mark the grave of thirty nine men.

Reb ran in anger and fear, she had become mindlessly furious, as she ran she reached for her bayonet, with a twist she fixed it to her rifle snatching the sheath off and tossing in to the ground. Coming to the end of the trench she was forced to stop, this war was insanity, men died for inches of dirt that was so littered with bodies of deadly debris that it useless to anyone. She had come here to help and by god she would do something. Sucking in the bitter air, Reb collected her thoughts, she saw no options. To the rear was Paris, to the front was the enemy, there was only one way to go.

She removed her helmet and ran her fingers through her wet hair. Pushing the curls back from her face she replaced her helmet and steeled herself for what was coming. She had no delusion of her next action; she did not expect to return from this one woman charge. Closing her eyes she inhaled deeply grit her teeth and screaming. Crawled over the edge and into the open Rebecca scrambled to her feet and charged forward, as she moved she heard and felt nothing, not the bullets slipping past her ears, pulling on her short red hair, nor the shells exploding around her. She only saw the barbed wire and the glitter of the Pickelhaube helmets worn by the Germans.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught her eye, she slowed her charge and she glanced off to the far right. What she saw almost made her stop her mad, head long charge. A unit of black soldiers crawled over the barbed wire; they seemed to spring from the earth by the hundreds. These heroic men carried with them a strange flag, red white and blue, the flag of France with a large bloody red hand centered on the white stripe and a small American flag over the dark blue stripe.

Their faces were black with dirt their uniforms covered, like hers, in mud, dirt and blood, but it was the sheer determination she saw there that drew her to them. Laughing she veered over towards them adding her voice to theirs; they saw her coming and waved her in. Now she was surrounded by like minded men, they cut through the dirt of the battlefield like a hot knife through butter. Ahead of her she saw a second flag, this one said New York National Guard, these were American soldiers fighting under a French command. She did not care, they were all dying here together, black and white, French, and Scots, Polish, and American, and today, today many German. 'As many as it would take to silence those uncaring guns.' She thought.

In the thrill of the charge she never felt the first round that cut through her side, nor the second one that shattered her thigh bone and dropped her in her tracks.

Chapter 3

It had taken her some time, and many sleepless night before Eve had a settled on a plan to save the land and the manor. With the fighting so close, safe medical facilities were needed. The governments of the Allies would provide supplies, security and food for all who supported the war effort by offering their homes to the wounded. So her plan was very simple, she would open a care center for the injured and wounded. The government would provide for her and whomever she had assisting her.

As a hospital, however temporary, she and the manor would be protected. Her son would stay in America until after the war then return to her and home that remained relatively untouched. Yes, it could work, it had to work.

She had submitted her information to the Commander of the Allied forces in France and England and had received, with their reply, medical supplies, beds and food for herself and her patience. Initially she had been apprehensive of opening her home to strangers and leaving herself vulnerable to these strange men, but once she received her first patient all her fears dissolved.

Sitting next to the bed Eve stared down at the wounded soldier, she had been told that the young woman had been found on the battlefield among the bodies of soldiers of the 369th, a unit of black Americans assigned to the French. She was dressed as a boy and had been critically injured in a valiant charge on a German artillery site. The men of the unit had patched up the injuries well enough to slow the bleeding and had rushed her to the rear. The bullet wounds, scrapes, blisters, torn hands spoke of the hardships she had endured, and bloody face made it difficult to see what she really looked like. Eve assessed her patient, she could tell that the young woman was slender whether that was from the poor living conditions of trench warfare of if that were her normal body weight, she could not guess. What she had noticed was that the woman was very well built and what skin was left, undamaged or discolored with bruises, was very fair.

Now she sat at the stranger's side impatiently waiting to see if green eyes went along with the short deep red hair. Temptation forced her to reach up and gently brush the curls back from the warm forehead, as she did so the dark lashes fluttered and the dull green eyes suddenly focused on hers. Eve looked into those confused eyes and, for an instant, lost herself in their depth. Smiling she spoke in a very soft Scottish burr.

"Hi, my name is Eve. You are in my home; you have been here for a few days now." The confusion did not leave the green eyes.

Eve spoke again hoping to soothe the worried look. "You are safe here. You are in Scotland, France and the war are very far away."

Rebecca had no idea what had happened only that one minute she had been in a trench crawling over a dead soldier and the next she was in a bed with an angel bending over her.

"How? How long?" Asked a harsh dry whisper

"How long have you been here? Is that what you want to know?" the angel asked.

Rebecca tried to nod her head, exhausted by even that small effort.

"Three days, you have been here for three days." Eve spoke slowly unsure if the soldier would understand. She stared at the green eyes for several minutes before she realized they were staring back. Embarrassed for being caught staring, she reached for a glass and the pitcher of cold water resting in a bowl on the nightstand. After filling the glass, she set the pitcher down. Carefully she slipped one hand under the soft red curl of the beautiful woman's head and with the other hand lifted the glass to dry lips.

"Drink this; it will make your throat feel better." Eve said.

Still staring at the angel above her, Rebecca drank slowly, not believing her eyes until she felt the cool water flow over her tongue and ease down her throat. The refreshing fluid seemed to wash the sand from her vocal cords.

"My unit, do you have any idea what happened to them anything about the men? Are they alive?" Rebecca asked, her voice still a harsh sound but at least now it was a bit more familiar.

She watched sadness darken the deep blue eyes of the young woman.

"I was told that your unit, the others, are gone, you were the only one they found. The soldiers who brought you here said that you had joined a unit of Americans but they had no idea where you came from. They assumed you had been separated somehow, from your unit but they didn't know who you were. An American medical unit brought you here because you couldn't stay in the hospital with the men and they had no facilities for women."

Eve paused here letting the soldier absorb this information. "Do know that there was a search conducted for you unit. I'm sorry but they are all gone. I was told that they had died in their trench just before a charge. That is all I know." Eve watched the frown appear on the woman's face as she struggled absorbing this information. Hoping to distract her from the struggle she added, "You are my first patient, and you have been asleep for some time now. I was beginning to worry that you may sleep through the rest of the year." She added hoping to lift the gray thoughts from the troubled soldiers mind.

Rebecca smiled sadly, then tried to sit up; as she moved a pain shot through her, from her toes to her leg, up her hips to her spine, tearing a scream from her lips.

Stunned by the sound Eve watched the tears spring into the green eyes and anxiety made her reach for the laudanum. It wasn't much, but it was all she had, medical supplies were very limited after so many years of fighting. She had been promised more by the medical unit but there were so many larger hospitals with more in need than her small facility.

Carefully she poured out a spoonful; gently lifting the wounded woman's head again she slipped the spoon past pale trembling lips. That done, she pulled the blanket up over the trembling form, then reached out to the side lamp and dimmed the flickering light.

As she pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down she took the battered hand in hers, stroking the long fingers her mind searched for some topic to lighten the mood.

"What's your name?" she asked the silently crying woman.

"Rebecca, my name is Rebecca."

Chapter 4

It took weeks for the soldier to heal. Eve watched her progress, pleased to see that her charge was recovering so well. The bruises gradually changed from red to blue to green and had begun to slowly fade away. The swelling in her leg had receded and the shattered leg bone began to heal.

Each day now she seemed to get stronger and Eve had begun helping her to move from her bed to a chair on the sunny lawn of the garden. The healthy growth of green grass and the sounds of living things gradually worked to bring color back to the pale face. The warmth of the sun shine tanned Rebecca's skin to a soft creamy tan, freckles appeared, dancing across a rather straight nose.

After weeks of medicine, poking and prodding, the medical unit's doctor had finally released her from their care telling Eve that she was out of danger but needed to allow her leg to heal. In addition to this good news, Eve was relieved to know that no charges would be filed against Rebecca; she would be allowed to stay until her injuries had healed completely and then discharged from the Army.

While she recovered, several wounded soldiers that had been with Reb in her one woman charge, stopped by to visit. They sat in the garden, sometimes for hours, talking about the battle and the war. Eve would sometimes hear laughter coming from the garden, other times it was silent, once she had looked out to see what had happened and was stunned to see Reb being held as she cried into a comforting shoulder of one of the black troopers. The other men hung their heads as if stunned into silence. A strange knot filled her chest and threatened to choke her as she swallowed. Slowly she backed out of view, promising herself to leave the soldiers to their privacy in the future.

The visits aside, Eve discovered that the more she watched her charge the more she wanted to watch. Each morning began the same, up early preparing a warm breakfast of tea and biscuits for herself and her charge. Then it was outside, into the sun, with a blanket and a foot warmer against the chill of the early morning mist. If she felt up to it, they would have a slow stroll around the garden then back to the house for lunch and rest. The evenings were spent with Eve reading aloud from one of many novels that Rebecca had selected from the library.

Each day, the two women grew closer, and Eve felt the first tantalizing hints of love. Her heart seemed to skip when the deep soft voice of the soldier spoke her name. She found herself stammering when she looked into the sad green eyes. She was amazed when she noticed the same responses and reactions from the beautiful soldier, it seemed that their meeting was destiny, now; she wanted it to be forever.

Rebecca had been with Eve for almost a month and found herself slowly drawn to the dark haired woman. Each evening she used the excuse of exhaustion to lure Eve to her side to read to her. The books she had selected were all well known to her but the times she shared with Eve in the evenings had become the one thing that drove the demons away at night.

As she sat out in the garden late one evening she considered her future. August was fast approaching and the days had lengthened and warmed, they were able to spend more time together in the evenings watching the sun set and the day end. She found her strength returning and knew that some decisions needed to be made and soon. She realized that the military knew the truth of her gender and there would be no slipping back to the front. The question now became how she could help in the efforts and was there a way to do that and keep Eve in her life. She could ask to stay on at the hospice and help Eve with the wounded, she knew how and her experience in combat may help some poor soul survive.

In the house Eve was replacing the novel they had finished last night and had selected the next book from the slowly shrinking pile that Rebecca had chosen. What could she do to keep the red haired soldier here? Maybe she could use the excuse of needing help with the wounded that would surely be arriving soon. It wasn't really a lie, she knew that sooner or later she would need an extra set of hands. Taking care of Rebecca alone had tested her strength and patience, more soldiers with more severe injuries would require help if they were to survive. Time was short, she knew that Rebecca was feeling stronger each day and she would want to return to helping in the cause. She needed to do something soon or she would lose the beautiful soldier.

Neither woman even considered the attraction for the other as strange or different; in these times one had to take love in any form that they could find, tomorrow it might be gone in a billowing cloud of mustard gas or the earth shattering explosion of the artillery shells.

That night, the two sat side by side in front of the fire in the great room, Rebecca, dressed in late Lord Cameron's pajamas and robe sat in a heavy chair, cocooned in blankets, facing the fire. On a foot stool at her knees Eve sat in a deep rose colored day dress, a book open on her lap unread, the words running together incoherently.

"Rebecca, umm Reb? I...I, have been thinking, umm, you know the military knows that you are a woman and..." Eve began.

"Eve, the Army knows I am a woman so I thought perhaps..." Rebecca began at the same time.

"Oh, I am sorry Eve, please continue." The redhead stammered apologetically.

"No, you first." Eve said somewhat relieved to get a break in what she feared would be a rather delicate topic.

"No, you go ahead." Rebecca smiled hoping that Eve would not see the blush that tinted her cheeks. "I insist." She added.

"Well, Rebecca, Reb, I was thinking that, since the military knows you are a woman, you won't be able to rejoin your unit. So maybe you can stay here and help me." She began dropping her eyes to the open book in front of her. Hoping to find some rescue there, she was surprised to hear the soft deep voice murmer.

"Huh, it would appear that we think alike." Eve heard the smile in the redheads' voice and peeked up to see Reb smiling at her. She leaned forward, her eyes captured by the flickering firelight dancing in the green eyes and off soft creamy skin. Her hands move up slowly to brush back the burnished red curls and to draw the other woman closer.

Rebecca felt the hands combing through her hair and her body tingled alive with anticipation. She wanted this, it may only be a single stolen moment in this brutal time but it would be a sweet lasting memory. She leaned into the kiss as their lips met. She felt the soft tip of a tongue brush her lips and she opened to allow it access. Her eyes fluttered closed as lights danced behind her lids, the fire racing from her lips to her loins echoed the fire in the hearth.

Eve felt the other woman tremble as a bolt of sexual energy raced through her body. She felt her hand bury itself in the soft red hair as she pulled Rebecca closer. She felt her other hand rise as if pulled by some invisible thread, her fingers traced there way up onto soft arm, across broad shoulders and down a delicate collar bone, down to cup a full soft breast. Gently she felt the weight of it settle in her hand, she felt the other woman's heart hammering under her finger tips as she gently squeezed.

Rebecca felt her heart thundering in her temples when the small hand caressed her breast. She felt her skin tingle with anticipation and her nipple harden with need, want and desire. She wanted this, she wanted the love. She wanted to feel this woman under her, over her, inside her. She wanted to feel again.

Eve slowly pulled away from Rebecca, her hands sliding away from the heated body down long arms to hold chilled hands, her eyes searching the dark green in front of her, looking for rejection. Slowly she stood, the book sliding from her lap to the heavy carpet in front of the hearth. Gently, she helped Rebecca to her feet, careful of her healing leg. She drew the other woman to center of the carpet, the heat of the fire adding to her overheated body. Hands reached up to push back the blankets, catching them as the fell from broad shoulders. She turned and lay the blankets on the carpet, arranging them in a warm nest, she returned and led the taller woman to the center of the pile, turning her to face the fire. With her eyes on Rebecca's face she slowly untied the robe letting the belt fall free, slowly she unbuttoned the pajama top and push it and the robe from the tall soldier's body. Her hands followed the material as it fell, but stopping at the small waist and gently sloping hips, allowing the robe and top to crumple at their feet. Her eyes remained for a moment locked with Rebecca's, praying to see acceptance, then slowly, they lowered taking in the full breasts, the nipples peaked, begging to be tasted. Eve felt her hands touch the edges of the pajama bottoms, her fingers working loose the button at the waist, her mind filled with jumbled thoughts, of fear, of joy, of excitement and confusion. She felt the bottoms fall away.

Rebecca laid one hand gently on Eve's shoulder to steady herself as she stepped out and away from the clothes, then brought her hand up to caress a soft cheek her eyes saying what her voice could not. She felt Eve step away and for a moment her heart dropped, she watched with fear as the brunette's eyes traveled from her face downward, the look of hunger she saw there renewed her hopes.

Eve could not stop herself; she had to see what her imagination had been teasing her with. Slowly she allowed her gaze to drop, savoring each new discovery as a thirsty man would a drink of fresh water. She paused at the beautiful breasts, the puckered nipples seeming to strain for her lips, her eyes traveled past the slender waist down the curve of hips to the glistening damp amber curls, there her searching eyes stopped. She felt arms wrap around her pulling her closer as she reached around cupped the firm muscles of Reb's buttocks. Her mind knew when her own cloths fell away, the heat at her back let her know that she was now as naked as the beautiful woman in front of her, but her eyes and her heart were already occupied and so paid no attention and felt no shyness at her own nakedness. Slowly she fell to her knees, her eyes never having left their final target. She watched as her own hands slide around to stroke the wet curls, her tongue peaking out to taste the dampness, her fingers wanting only to slide into the warmth she found there. Her mind tumbled in confusion when Rebecca stepped away. Eve's eyes darted up shocked and hurt until she realized that Rebecca had simple reached down to ask for assistance in sitting. Slowly she helped the tall woman to the blankets, still kneeling she looked into the green eyes, to reassure herself of acceptance, that done she returned her wandering eyes and hands to the feast before her. She crawled around to Rebecca's feet and gently pushed her legs up and apart, her hands resting on one soft smooth thigh the other on one still healing one. She traced her hands down glistening thighs towards the soft sweet flesh that parted there, waiting for her fingers to explore. She started to lie on her stomach between those parted thighs when she felt a hand pulling at her arm.

Rebecca had been waiting for weeks for this night, she had dreamed of Eve just this way and she did not want to wait another second. She turned the dark haired woman around arranging a leg on either side of her head, her eyes now on their goal, her tongue aching with anticipation she slowly pulled Eve to her.

Eve felt the hands on her hips lowering her onto Rebecca's waiting mouth, she felt the fingers part her flesh and a hot tongue bury itself in the curls that guarded her clit. Her heart thudded but her own need screamed at her, her fingers frantically found their way into the crisp wet hair, parting the lips and revealing the throbbing flesh hidden there. With a moan she lowered her head, her tongue lapping up the flowing wetness she found there, her lips wrapping themselves around flesh, eager to take in all she could find.

Rebecca felt the tugging of an eager mouth at her loins and she arched her back to offer Eve all of herself. Her own hunger still calling, she plunged her long fingers deep into the tight opening that dripped just out of reach of her own needy mouth. Slowly she plunged in and out each effort dripping more of the liquid sweetness into her mouth, finally she felt the shudder, it built from deep within and echoed the one she felt inside herself. She felt walls closing around her fingers and she slowed her hand, as the throbbing shudder reached its peak she gently parted the buried digits, sliding a third into the warmth and plunging all three deeply into Eve, as her mouth moved to take in all of the richly flowing reward as she could. Her own hips thrusting upward as Eve plunged her tongue deep into her, the thick warm muscle and soft lips drawing first from the throbbing clit then to the aching hole as small fingers reached in and scooped out the last bit of wetness they found there, a murmur of appreciation followed the cleaning of each finger as the small hand was lifted to waiting lips.

Sated, Eve lifted herself from Rebecca and turned to curl into the soldier's side. Rebecca reached out and pulled the blankets over them as she wrapped a protective arm around Eve.

As the fire slowly died in the hearth the two women drifted off to dreamless sleep.

For days following the women developed a routing, each day would begin with loving caresses. They made an effort to get outside so Rebecca, with the help of a stout cane, could exercise her rapidly healing leg injury. Eve sometime remained behind when Rebecca took her walks. She knew the redhead would return within the hour starving for lunch then they would spend the rest of the day preparing the house for the influx of injured soldiers they were expecting. Rebecca knew she would stay on and help Eve with the hospital, providing what assistance she could offer. Eve was thrilled to have finally met the one person she was destine to love, when they were together, the manor was filled with laughter, light and warmth.

Chapter 5

Things were wonderful, Rebecca found she could venture a little further each day, and her leg seemed to be healing well, though she knew she would probably always have a limp when the weather turned cold and the bone ached, but for now things could not get much better.

The Allies seemed to be winning on all fronts and the Germans were in retreat. She hoped that the war would soon be over and they could settle down to some sort of life together.

Perhaps it was the distraction of thoughts in her mind, perhaps it was the beauty of the forest. Perhaps it was simply the idea that this was a safe area, but for whatever reason, Rebecca had broken the first rule of war; never let your guard down. That is how it happened, that is how the Germans were able to over come her so easily.

As she strolled down the path, through the fall of leaves, her mind played over and over the images of the last few days, these had been the most wonderful days of her life. Eve, her beautiful Eve had promised that they would be together forever.

She never heard them, never saw them coming, they waited until she had passed then sprang from piles of leaves to attack the tall soldier, unaware that this was no young lad they were fighting. Rebecca fought them, with all that was in her, she fought. Her heart she knew that if they defeated her, if they got past her, Eve would be next.

The Germans had not expected the fight they were getting. Many reached for broken tree limbs, using them as clubs; they beat the young man, unwilling to draw attention with the bark of rifle shots or to waste the few remaining bullets they had just to stop one soldier. Hearing ribs break, they kept swinging, breaking first one arm then the delicate bones of a hand shattered under a hobnailed boot, but this young man kept coming. Why wouldn't he stay down, they had not wanted to kill him, they just needed to get him out of the way.

They had never imagined themselves in this position, lost in the homeland of the enemy, traveling with a large shipment of desperately needed gold. Days earlier they were on one of the homelands most advanced ships, a submarine, heading back to Germany. They had captured, searched then sank a passenger liner traveling with refugees, the gold and jewelry they had taken from the passengers would help fund the German army for the next six months, maybe more. They had been so close to success when they had run into the enemy battleship. They had used most of their firepower sinking the liner and the Allied destroyer that had attacked their new submarine used depth charges. As the shells exploded around them the outer hull of the submarine began to buckle and the ship had taken on water. Desperate to save the ship and as many of the crew as possible the Commander had closed off the flooding compartments to keep the ship afloat, many men had been trapped and had drown. Unfortunately, the compartments that had flooded also contained most of their food, it had been lost but they had been able to save the confiscated gold and jewelry. The ship had been badly damaged and unable to make it home, they had been lucky enough to limp close to a coastline; they followed it to a narrow channel called the Firth of Lorn. The channel gradually narrowed until they found that any further movement would beach the wounded vessel. The Captain had also been injured during the first days of the conflict with the larger battle ship; he had been struck by a large section of interior sheet metal from the inner hull when the depth charges had first hit the ship. The metal had sliced through one of his leather boots and neatly removed his foot, unable to stop the bleeding; death had been slow and painful. The First mate had wanted to end it for him but the Captain had been a brave man and had made sure that the subs survivors had made it to land. He guided the ship toward an ancient citadel called Fort, he beached the ship then ordered the surviving crew to unload all the provisions they could salvage. The Captain knew he would be unable to lead the men to safety, so he did the best he could for his crew. He insured that his men had all that he could provide, then ordered the First Mate, Mikiel Taunus to take charge. Valiantly he struggled to reclaim the Captains seat at the guiding system for the small ship. The crew now pushed the small beached metal fish back out into the narrow channel and watched as their last bit of home sail out to sea, sinking from their site for the last time. Better the bottom of the ocean than the hands of the enemy.

That was how they had arrived in their present position, hungry and desperate in the middle of enemy land. They had made been traveling for days, following the river hoping it would lead them to some port and possible transportation home. They had been hauling a large heavy trunk of gold and gems across this strange hostile land. Traveling mostly at night they had been able to remain undiscovered, now for several days, but had finally run out of food. First Mate Taunus, had sent out several scouts trying to find a likely source of food, three had returned, one had not, there was no time to look for the missing man, they simple assumed he had been captured or killed. Frightened and alarmed at the possibility of capture they knew that they needed to get what they supplies they could and move on quickly.

After several trips into the countryside one of the scouts had been able to locate a large house north east of them. He had watched it from a distance for several hour and had only seen two people, a soldier was staying in the house with a young woman. He assured Taunus that he had not seen any other people at the house and the soldier appeared to be injured.

Carefully the crew moved closer to the manor, from hidden positions in the tree line, they had watched the house the rest of that day. The scout had been right, there appeared to be only the couple staying there. Taunus had them bed down in the forest that night as he and the senior crewman, an Ensign, sat up most of the night planning the safest and hopefully most successful route of attack.

Early the next morning, they woke and prepared for the day. Taunus had them hide along the road hidden from site in the heavy trees waiting for nightfall, so they could slip in through one of the ground level windows. He and one or two men would search for food and other supplies then return and they would leave, hopefully with enough food and supplies to reach a port and steal transportation away from this desolate land.

The day was still young when they saw him, the soldier, he was heading towards them. They were suddenly alert, slowly slipping deeper into the shadows, waiting like serpents for the mouse.

Taunus had told them to lie still in the dead leaves and wait for him to pass. Then they were to capture him and take the house, he would ensure their safe passage away from these cursed hills and with the food they were sure to find there they could make it home.

The plan seemed sound but the young man was not cooperating. When they sprang on him from the trees he fought like a demon. He fought fiercely, using anything and everything that came to hand, first his cane then his fists. Finally, the Ensign picked up a fallen tree branch; he drew back and aimed for the soldier's legs, hoping to knock him off his feet, but in the struggle the red haired soldier suddenly turned and stumbled, the Ensign tried to stop but his momentum had already committed him to follow through. The blow, when it landed, struck the young man on the back of the neck; not his legs, as intended. They all heard the crack as his neck broke. Gathering around him, they waited as the Ensign rolled him over with the toe of his boot. They leaned in wanting to look into the face of such a valiant fighter; the gasp of recognition and pain came from all of them at once, a woman! They had killed a woman. The sailors were sickened at what they had done, one, the youngest in the group, had rushed off to the forest, they heard him retching up what little there was left in his stomach. Many of the older men wished they were innocent enough to still feel that way, but sadly they had seen much of death over the last few years and the sight of yet another dead soldier did not tear at them as violently.

The First Mate's face twisted in pain and anger as he staring down at the beautiful woman. This was not what he had wanted; he did not like to make war on women.

"We must bury her, but hurry; we have to reach the house before she is missed." He said pulling out his entrenching tool and handing it to one stunned sailors. They quickly dug a shallow grave and lay the body in. They all paused for a moment to stare down at the woman in the shallow ditch. Frowning, the Mate reached into his pants pocket and laid his handkerchief protectively, over the woman face just before they covered the body with leaves and dirt.

Saddened by the tragic death and burial of the woman, the crew stood silently staring down at the torn earth, each man knowing that they had buried a tiny piece of their humanity with the dead woman. War was indeed a horrible thing and there was not honor in their work today.

The Mate, grumbled a command to the men and they gathered up their tools and prepared to move out. He realized that it had been a long week, the men were exhausted and things had not gone well today. All they had wanted was food, and to get the valuable chest back to their homeland. Perhaps this was an omen. Perhaps this would be the last horrible thing they had to face before they reached home. Then he remembered something his mother had always told him, 'bad things always come in threes.'

Storing away their shovels they picked up their weapons and the now hated trunk and headed down the path, hoping to remain undetected until they reached the house. They had little to no ammunition and were in no shape to fight. They had been lucky so far in only having to kill the one woman soldier, now if there was only some food at the end of this trail.

Chapter 6

Eve, felt her heart lurch and a cold chill crackled up her spine, something was wrong. She left the kitchen where she had been preparing their breakfast and ran to the front door to call for Rebecca. Just as she reached for the handle, the door swung open. The smile on her face froze as she saw eight strange men enter her home. Their uniforms were different, grey, and their appearance was strange as well. As soon as one spoke she knew the horrible truth, Germans, the enemy was in her home. Where was Rebecca?

As the German Mate pushed open the door he found himself face to face with a beautiful dark haired woman. This was not good; he had been hoping to escape detection, but in order to do so they would have to come do a decision about the woman.

Eve stared at the men, seeing the one who was apparently in charge she stepped forward. "Where is she? Where is Rebecca?" She asked somehow knowing the answer already.

Taunus, had an idea of what the woman was asking, he had learned a little English and he was sure that the name she mentioned was female. He stared at the dark haired woman for a minute, trying to collect the proper words.

"The Frauline is... gone. Yes, gone." He nodded sure that he had used the correct words.

Eve had no idea what the German meant, had Rebecca been able to escape? Would she be returning with help? Hoping that what she heard was correct, Eve knew that she would need to stall. If Rebecca had escaped perhaps she would be returning with help, if that was true, then she needed to keep these men here for as long as possible.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" She asked the man that seemed to be in charge.

"Brochen? Habben sie brochen und snitzel mit gluvien." He stated, frowning at his inability to communicate more clearly.

A young sailor stepped forward and, with a nod from the First Mate, spoke slowly to Eve. "Bread and meat and wine. Bitte" He said in heavily accented English, smiling when he saw that the woman understood the request.

"If I get these things for you, will you leave?" Eve asked. The young man nodded not fully understanding much of what the woman said but sure that she was going to cooperate.

Eve led the way back into the kitchen; she would have to give them what they wanted and hang on until Rebecca got back.

The young man followed her, his nose twitching at the tantalizing smell of cooked food. As he entered the large kitchen he turned and called to the other men.

The sound of pounding feet was soon followed by the cheers of the hungry sailors they ate the food Eve had been preparing for Rebecca's lunch.

Seeing that this would not last long, the sailor turned to Eve.

"More eat, Fraulien? You have it here some, yes?" The young Sailor asked politely in broken English.

With the nod of her head Eve led the man to a small door on the far side of the kitchen. Pulling a key from the pocket of her dress she opened the ancient lock and pushed the door. Reaching inside she tugged at a slender cord to turn on the single light at the top of the stairs.

Unsure of what she was up to the young man, shoved the small woman aside, trying to see around her.

Eve felt the push and reached for the railing, she missed.

The stunned sailor saw her hand reach out to steady herself, he reached forward to help her, he missed. In horror he watched as the small dark haired woman fell backwards. Her head striking the stone stairs as she tumbled head over heels down the stairs to land at the bottom in a broken heap. The men, hearing her scream had rushed to the door and stared down at the dead woman, then at the tear streaked face of the young Sailor.

Later that evening the First Mate sent a party of four men out in the darkness to hunt for stones to build a tomb and hide the body. They could not afford the time it would take outside in the open to dig a proper grave and the remains left would eventually draw unwanted attention. If they were to escape this country, or even if not, they needed to hide this body.

As they quickly searched the surrounding area they wandered into a forgotten and neglected cemetery, many of the old headstones had fallen over, damaged or destroyed by time. Collecting broken bits of stone they returned to the manor home. One young man spotted a beautiful broken stone cross decorated with an intricate knotted design in the center. He dug up the broken stone carried it back for the tomb.

When they returned they lay the woman's small body in a wardrobe size alcove in the cellar. With mortar made of mud and flower they, began to seal her in. They had almost completed the task when they were halted by the sound of tires crunching gravel in the driveway.

Taunus, leaped up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. He rushed to the front door and easing it open, peered outside. There were Allied soldiers everywhere! With them he saw the lost sailor, the man that had disappeared on the scouting mission. Afraid of failure the First Mate ordered the men to hide the chest of looted gold in with the body of the dark haired woman, sealing the tomb to keep the gold from the enemy and in the hope of one day returning for it. He had the men drag a heavy rack of wine bottles in front of the now sealed alcove, disguising it from unfamiliar eyes. That done he turned to securing the house and preparing for a very one sided fight. Deep inside he knew that they would probably never survive to see their beloved Fatherland again.

Chapter 7

Many of the soldiers that had fought with Reb had also been wounded. The Americans had been recovering at a field hospital and had finally been released. Worried about the two women alone at the house, several of the men decided to make a trip out to check on them and to say goodbye. They had gathered bits of chocolate and staple rations as well as some much needed medical supplies and had been traveling along the road on the way to the house when they had spotted the German sailor. It had not taken them long to turn around, return to base and collect more men to hunt down the Germans.

It took the Doughboys almost two days to take the well built mansion. Destroying the front door and much of the foyer, they had been forced to kill all but one of the Germans inside, a young man who spoke broken English. He tried to run from them, breaking away and going towards the rear of the kitchen. He made it to a door in the back of the large room before they caught him. He kept muttering something in broken English and German, but none of them spoke the language and they knew that headquarters needed to sort this out.

The captured sailor was miserable, he had thought that when he joined the Navy he would go home with stories of his great adventure, instead he had been taken prisoner, but he would not let them know about the gold. He would keep that secret until he could somehow return home. He stared around at his captors, these were strange soldiers, they had dark skin and heavy features. They wore the uniform of the French but spoke a rough sort of English. He had looked at their shoulder patch trying to recognize the unit, he had seen many of the patches when in training, but this one was unfamiliar to him. He stared again at the insignia trying to commit it to memory, a red five fingered hand on a tan and black background. Yes, he would remember that and he would remember the Celtic knot that marked the grave of the beautiful woman and the captured gold.

The Americans had searched the entire house but found no sign of the two women. Discouraged and disturbed the men could not waste anymore time on a search, they were needed on the front. They turned the young sailor over to the US command staff, from there; he was taken to interrogation in London. The soldiers returned to their unit on the front and eventually the war ended.

Chapter 8

The villagers of the small town near the manor, the town of Chambers, often returned to the mansion looking for the Lady and the soldier, but nothing was ever found. The town counsel made sure the home was secured and a message was sent to the United States to tell a small boy that his mother had disappeared, another casualty of the war.

As time passed and the boy that had been shipped away to America and safety grew up, he married and had three sons, one, the oldest, returned to Scotland and the family home. His name was Ethan, he restored the old mansion and settled in to raise a family, his son inherited from him. The home was never again threatened by the enemy, it was never threatened by anyone, no one outside the family dare stay in the mansion. It is rumored that ghosts haunt the mansion and the forest surrounding it. Eventually, the mansion passed on to the last heir living in Scotland, Ethan's Grand daughter, a woman named Matilda Cameron.

She had made it her life long mission to restore the old mansion and to learn its history. While she had lived there she had made a sort of peace with the spirits and had occasionally entertained in the mansion. She lived in the beautiful old home for many years never marrying but eventually taking a lover. The townspeople had gotten use to the two women and were saddened when they both passed on. Again a notice was sent to the United States, notifying the American Cameron's of the death and of a peculiar stipulations in the old woman's will.

This time however, no one in the town ventured up to the old mansion to secure the home, the housekeeper was still there, and she had been since the arrival of Matilda. No one wanted to go into the house; after all, with Matilda gone now who would control the spirits? No one was sure who they were or why they would not leave, that secret, they though, had died with Matilda. Most of the servants had left, chased out by the angry ghosts and with the exception of the housekeeper, no one outside the family had been able to spend a single restful night in the old manor home, that is until last week.

Chapter 9

The Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina

July 4th 2006

So this was married life, Lura rolled over to see a beautiful smooth golden back, the skin exposed from shoulder to waist. The gentle breathing was reflected in the flexing of muscle and bone. The perfect canvas of skin marred occasionally by pale scars of bullet wounds. She reached over and stroked the now very familiar blemishes, a sad smile on her face. Her hand moved from shoulder to buttocks and back, gently curving over ribs to stoke the soft full flesh of one firm breast. "Oh yeah, I just love this married life." She sighed aloud, a wicked smile on her lips as she gently squeezed.

"Hey, soldier sleeping over here." Came a mumbled comment from the recipient of Lura's attention.

Dylan rolled over and fixed her antagonist with one sleepy blue eye, the dark lashes hiding the twinkle that lurked deep in the crystal depth. Seeing the wide eyed blond beside her attempting an expression of innocent surprise brought the other eye open and forced both to zero in on her naked bedmate.

"I suppose there could be something that might be reason enough to delay sleep." She growled grabbing an armful of wiggling blond. Her fingers hunted and found sensitive ribs and she poked and tickled her mate into submission.

Lura squealed and giggled, twisting and turning in a vain effort to escape the searching finger of the dark haired woman. Once Dylan set her mind to something there were very few things that could deter her and apparently she had a definite goal in mind this morning.

As Lura wiggled on the bed Dylan's thought slipped from attack, to subdue, to seduce. Her eyes watched the delightful round breasts in front of her. Pink nipples hardened under her skillful fingers and laughter was quickly turning from groans of exhaustion to moans of seduction. She gently rolled over pulling the smaller woman towards her, strong arms sliding along the white skin of a bare back as Lura leaned forward. Lips met, melting together, tongues fought for command, retreating and assaulting. Finally they drew apart, Dylan's hot eyes now focused on a tantalizingly close nipple, her mouth watering for a taste of that sweet flesh. She pulled Lura towards her again, her mouth opening to accept what she knew was hers, her tongue reaching out to delicately flicker over one rose pink nub and, the door bell rang.

"NO!" Lura groaned her head dropped forward in disappointment.

"Go Away!" Dylan yelled aloud, as she tried to resume her delightful task.

The bell rang again, this time followed by a loud pounding on the front door.

"I don't know who that is but I hope they have DAMN GOOD INSURANCE!" Dylan bellowed as she rolled from the bed and headed towards the bedroom door.

"Honey wait, you need a robe." Lura called as she watched a very nice, round butt heading towards the hall.

"Wha...oh, yeah." Dylan responded reaching for the terry cloth robe hanging from the back of the door. Slipping her arms into it she continued on her stomping path down the stairs across the foyer and straight to the front door.

To say the Western Union man was surprised would be a mild understatement. One moment the young man is standing at the door, pounding away and bobbing his head to the music piped into his ears by the portable CD player on his hip. The next moment he is blinded by the sight of two very long legs, which lead to an interesting ending a few hand spans below a pair of enticingly firm breasts. His mouth dropped open as his eyes traveled up and down one more time, if only to verify what they had initially seen. Stunned and tongue tied the young man failed to notice the ice cold blue eyes and the unsmiling lips that now addressed him.

"What is it, and it better DAMN be good!" Growled a voice somewhere in the young mans fog of a mind.

"I ya, I ya, I ya..." He stammered over and over again.

"You said that already." Dylan sneered; losing her patience with the suicidal man at her front door. She reached out to shake some sense into his addled brain when suddenly a small blond head popped around her followed by her mate's eyes and a calming voice.

"Yes? Did you want something?" Lura asked, her body wrapped in a snug terry cloth robe that appeared much too large for her small form. Her position in front of Dylan however, blocked her spouse's naked form from the roaming brown eyes of the man.

Dylan stepped back, surprised to feel Lura's hands on her hips, she glanced down to see the smaller woman reaching back for the edges of the robe, blindly attempting to close the front. With a grin she stepped further back just out of reach of the hunting hands.

Lura paused long enough to throw a glare over her shoulder at her partner, and roll her eyes at the appearance of the wicked grin that now lit Dylan's face.

Spotting the unsmiling glare of her wife Dylan gave in and stepped close again, her hands now pulling at the cloth only to discover that the edges would not meet. Glancing down again she noticed that he arms seemed unusually short, as a matter of fact the entire robe seemed to have shrunk. Looking up she started to question Lura when she noticed her dress, Lura's robe was dragging the floor, the sleeves hanging over her fingertips. She realized then that she had apparently grabbed Lura's robe and Lura was now dressed in hers. No wonder the damn thing refused to close. She chuckled as she watched Lura reach back again in a useless attempt to close the robe, using her body to block the young man's view. If she hadn't still wanted to kill him, Dylan might have though the whole thing rather funny.

"I ya..., sorry Ma'am." The man stammered, frowning, he swallowed loudly, cleared his throat and standing very straight, directed his eyes to the clip board in front of him. "I have a package here for Ms. Victoria Lura Gillum-Grant Hawke." He finally squeaked out, trying his best to be professional with two very beautiful, half naked women in front of him.

"I am Lura, where do I sign", she asked anxious to get rid of the fellow and get back to the bedroom.

"Do you have any ID Ma'am." He began; he was interrupted by what sounded suspiciously like a very deep rumbling growl. He glanced down and around the women looking for the large dog or perhaps the large cat that had growled. His eyes again captive of the long legs, he allowed them to wander up finally arriving at a pair of extremely angry eyes. This time they were green. The smaller woman had stepped directly into his line of vision. He had been frightened by the angry blue eyes but now he realized that he was in a potentially life altering position as he squirmed under the baleful stare of these killer green orbs. "Never mind, I believe you, sign here Ma'am. He pointed to a black wax like space on the clipboard as he passed it to Lura.

"Thanks and have a nice day." He said, his voice cracking on the last word as he handed Lura a large legal size envelope, backed down the steps, turned and hustled to his waiting van. The back wheels left a trail of blue grey smoke as the van's wheels spun for grip as he rapidly left the drive.

Dylan stepped back, laughing aloud as she watched the boy leave. She bent over grabbing her sides as her eyes took in the sight of her mate dressed in the long robe, the tail dragging the floor and the sleeves hanging well past her fingertips. She felt her lungs ache as she fell to the floor laughing remembering the expression on the man's face when Lura blocked his view.

Her laughter was stopped by a cold voice coming from above her. "Oh, so you think that was funny do ya?" Lura asked, staring down at Dylan who was curled on the floor.

Dylan peeked up at her wife, the laughter dying a quick and painful death on her lips when she saw the look in Lura's eyes. Quickly she sat up, trying to pull herself and her robe together. "Aw, now Honey, you know I wasn't laughing at you. It's just that..."

She never finished, "Gotcha!" Lura yelled as she sprang forward, tackling the brunette and pulling the shoulders of the robe down to expose tender ribs. She straddled Dylan forcing the taller woman backwards as her fingers hunted for ribs to tickle and poke.

"Sneak attack." Dylan laughed as she rolled with her small wife so that she was now on top and in control. "So ya wanna play sneaky do ya? Well, I guess I will just be forced to use my hard earned skills to get me out of this." Dylan said, as she buried her face in a slender white neck, her lips finding a delicate pulse there.

Lura felt the warmth of Dylan's mouth on her throat as an unconscious moan slipped passed her lips. Her hands stopped the tickling motion and turned gently to stroke the soft flesh under her fingertips.

Dylan felt her legs contact with the cold floor, 'This would not do,' she gently picked up the small blond and carried her into the great room. A large faux fur rug decorated the floor in front of the hearth, its fibers still warm from the banked fire from the night before. Slowly she lowered her lover to the rug, her lips never losing contact with sweet flesh as she gently made love to her wife, the distracting envelope forgotten on the floor by the door.

Chapter 10

For the second time that morning Lura woke, this time to the tantalizing smell of fresh coffee. She rolled over sitting up, her eyes still closed, her hair in a tossed fluffy mess around her head and shoulders. Searching hands brushed the bed around her feeling for something to wear. Contacting with a terrycloth robe again, she slipped her arms into the sleeves, pushing her fingers out the other end. Dressed in the warm robe she turned, sliding her legs to the edge of the bed she staggered to her feet, stumbled towards the smell of the coffee. Her eyes still closed, her hands held out in front of her, she felt along the cold floor, her bare feet carefully padding along on the cold floor. Memory, or what Dylan referred to as Lura's automatic pilot, kicked in, guiding her towards the kitchen and the coffee goddess who must have broken into her kitchen while she slept and was now lurking there, brewing the tantalizing elixir.

Dylan heard the sound of footsteps in the hall and turned to watch Lura's sleep walking progress. The woman was amazing. With her eyes still closed she turned the corner into the kitchen and walked right up to the brunette holding the hot coffee. One hand reached out and her mate finally spoke.

"Gimme" croaked the gravelly voice coming from the small blond, hands groping towards the hot drink.

"What'll ya give me?" A sultry voice replied. Dylan grinned at her wife, watching the blond sway gently back and forth in the center of the kitchen. The heavy eyelids now opened slowly revealing bloodshot green eyes.

"I will let you live." Came the slow distinct response, as the eyes narrowed on the grinning face of the tall blue eyed woman.

"Here ya go killer." Laughing Dylan handed over a mug of sweet hot coffee laced with Irish and Hazelnut cream. She leaned back against the counter to watch Lura's progress.

Holding the coffee cup in both hands, the smaller woman turned and stumbled towards the kitchen table, pulled back the chair and slid into the seat carefully sipping on the steaming coffee.

"Well love, when your brain engages you can go over whatever is in the envelope that nice young fella left." Dylan said chucking at the dazed expression on Lura's face.

"What nice young fella? What envelope?" Lura questioned finally opening her eyes again to glare at the way too happy brunette. "And why are you so happy at this ungodly hour?"

"Humm, eleven thirty in the afternoon, ungodly? Okay, if you say so." She laughed. Pushing away from the counter she picked up the envelope in one hand and with her coffee in the other, she walked to the table.

"That nice young man, the one from Western Union, the one who left this large envelope. I would open it but I am not "Ms. Victoria Lura Gillum-Grant Hawke. Humm, I like that, sounds nice, especially the Hawke bit."

Setting her own cup on the table, Dylan grinned, taking the coffee cup from the sleepy blond. She placed the Lura's cup on the table replacing it with the sealed envelope and placing a gentle kiss to Lura's lips.

She picked up her own cup, pulled out the other chair and sat facing Lura. Blowing on her coffee to cool it she waited for Lura's brain to grasp the change.

With a sigh Lura place the envelope back on the table and picked up the coffee again, this time, the eyes she focusing on the Dylan sparkled with unspoken humor.

"Nice young man huh? You mean the one you threatened to put out of his misery? The one whose life, I'm sure passed before his eyes at least twice already today?" Lura chuckled before her eyes finally dropped to the envelope.

"The Law Offices of Hill and Chapel, Richmond Virginia, well, it doesn't sound familiar." She said. Clearing her throat, she finally relinquished her cup and picked up the envelope. Pulling the tab she opened it, the edge of cream paper peeked out of the opening. Intrigued she slipped the sheet from the envelope, the thick paper rustling as it cleared the wrapper.

"Hum, expensive paper, looks like these guys are for real." Lura said laying the pages down on the table so she could again hold her coffee with both hands. She stared at the paper her eyes speeding over the words.

Dylan sipped from her hot cup, her eyes focused on Lura's as they widened. She watched as the blood drained from Lura's face. Alarmed, she reached out quickly taking the cup from trembling hands. Placing it and her own on the table she quickly stepped to the sink, dampened a towel and returned to place it at the back of Lura's neck while forcing her to place her head between her knees.

"Take it easy honey, breath deeply, that's it. Nice slow breaths." Dylan said as she rubbed the blonds back, blowing cool air on the damp towel.

"What is it Honey, what did those bastards have to say, what is it? What do they want?" Dylan asked angrily.

"They want to give me an estate in Scotland." Lura mumbled.

"Those BASTARDS! Well, they can forget it! We just won't do it. I know folks in JAG, they can help up. We won't...wait, what did you say?" Dylan asked, her knees suddenly weak.

"Um, I said, they want to give me an estate in Scotland." Lura repeated her color back as she now grinned at Dylan. She laughed aloud grabbing Dylan, as she pulled herself to her feet, excitement replacing nausea and finally taking over her body.

"Whoa, slow down Little Falcon. Who are these guys? Why are they just giving you an estate and why Scotland of all places?" Dylan asked, her tone letting Lura know that she was skeptical of the whole thing.

Lura stopped dancing for a moment and reread the letter.

"Well, let me see, the letter says that I have been named sole heir and inheritor of Cameron Hall. Apparently I had a Great Aunt, Matilda Cameron. Well, before she died she named me in her will, Hell Dylan I didn't even know I had a Great Aunt. You think we could be related?" She giggled, not waiting for an answer. With a little shimmy dance step she rusher around the room bouncing again, her partner and her coffee forgotten in the excitement.

"Cameron? Did you say Cameron? Hey are you sure they got the right woman? My Dad is the Cameron in this family." Dylan said trying to catch up to her jumping wife.

"Well, all I know is that my wonderful, loving and beloved Great Aunt named me! Whoopee, I'm an heiress." The blond Snoopy danced around the living room laughing, then punching at the air. She ran back into the kitchen to hug her partner and continue her happy dance.

Dylan left Lura bouncing in the middle of the kitchen floor and returned to the table. Picking up the papers she read the letter slowly. Apparently, there was a second law office in Scotland that they needed to contact. Lura also had to appear before the attorneys within two weeks in order to claim her inheritance. That was two weeks from the date of receipt, Lura had two weeks from today to get to Scotland and claim her inheritance.

'Well,' Dylan though, 'that means we have some research to do.' There was no way she was going to let her Falcon travel to, the spirits alone knew, where based on some letter fancy anyone could typed.

Leaving Lura moon walking in the kitchen, Dylan went into her office and picked up the phone. She punched the three on her speed dial and waited. On the second ring the phone was picked up a very distinct voice on the other end.

"Grant residence, Richard here." Came the crisp voice.

"Well, hi there Richard, how's it hangin'?" Dylan teased; she liked the butler at the Grant home. He had always been rather stiff but she had discovered he had a sense of humor.

"It is hanging quite well Miss Dylan." Came the quick response.

Dylan could hear the laughter in the man's voice.

"Shall I get Mr. Grant for you Miss." He said, knowing that the only people Dylan ever called to speak to was her partner, when she was visiting, or her partners' father. Mrs. Grant never had adjusted to her daughters' lifestyle or the fact that her love was also a Native American, even if that person was the daughter of a US Senator.

"Yes, please Richard." Dylan asked

"Very good Miss." He said.

'Such a pleasant young woman.' Richard though as he placed the call on hold and went to find Mr. Grant.

"Dylan? Hello, is everything alright? Where is Lura? Is your Grandfather up to his old tricks again?" Richard asked a bit anxious when Richard had told him who was on the other end of the line.

"Hi Sir, everything is fine here. I just had a question; I hope you can help me with."

Dylan asked, chewing on the inside of her mouth.

"Sure kiddo, what do you need." Richard asked, his curiosity peeked.

"Well, we had an interesting package that arrived this morning." She said, pausing when she saw Lura skipping across the doorway of the kitchen her fists pumping imaginary foes.

"Who was it Dylan?" He asked not aware of his progeny and her antics in the kitchen.

Startled for a second Dylan stared at the phone then shook her head as if the shake would rattle her brains back into some sort of order.

"Well, we got a letter this morning delivered by Western Union." She began, "and well to tell ya the truth we are not sure what to make of it. Or I should say, I am not sure. Your daughter on the other hand is very sure I think we will be going on a trip soon. Seems that some long lost Aunt of Lura's has passed away and left her with a house in Scotland." Dylan did not get any further when Richard interrupted her.

"Not 'Mad Aunt Maddie?" he exclaimed chucking. "She was the proverbial black sheep in the family. Wow, I never though she would leave anything to a member of this family."

"Why? Who was she?" Dylan asked worry coloring her voice.

"Well ya see over a hundred years ago, my Great Great Grandfather was shipped to the US to keep him safe from the war. That would have been World War I. The British, including Scotland, were all fighting on the side of the Allies against Germany. Just before the war ended his father was killed and his mother, wanting to keep him safe shipped him here with an Army of nannies and virtually all the family's wealth. Things were pretty hard there and the boy was the last male in the family line. We were Cameron's then until the last male here only produced daughters and they married Grant's. Well, anyway, one of his sons returned to Scotland and reopened the old home. My Aunt Maddie is or I guess I should say was, the last in the line. She was a real character, I loved her visits here things always seemed be happen when she was around. She was always into some sort of trouble or another. Well, she never married, at least not in the conventional way. You two and Aunt Maddie would have liked each other; you have a lot in common. She and her 'partner', Lizabeth, lived in the house for years and each summer she would come here and take me off on some wild adventure. It was something I was hoping to share with Lura, but her mother never did warm to Aunt Maddie. As a matter of fact, the last time I saw her, she was heading for the airport." He began laughing, long, hard and loud.

Dylan pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it for a few seconds, then returned it to her ear. "So, what's so funny about going to the airport?" She asked.

"It isn't that she was going, it was what she wore to go in." He laughed again, and Dylan could imagine the tears rolling down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. "She had come to our wedding and visited again on our first anniversary. Lura was a tiny thing then. My wife, Lura's mother, had decided that Mattie was not fit to be around Lura. Well, let me tell you, that first night of her stay here, she and my wife got in an argument that has become almost legendary around here. Mattie had taken a shower and had her hairs in these big pink curlers; she was wearing a pair of red plaid boxers with a bright red top and a satin robe. I can see it just like it was yesterday. She had these amazing pink pumps with this kind of fluffy feathery thing across the top; they were exactly the same color as the robe. Well, anyway, Aunt Mattie and my wife really got into it, I thought Mattie would deck Alison any second. Alison can be pretty rude when she sets her mind to it. Well, she was in one of her moods and began making all sorts of remarks about Mattie, and her lifestyle, I can tell you though that Mattie gave as good as she got until Alison turned on Lizabeth that tore it. Mattie stormed upstairs, packed her bag and called for a cab. She left here still wearing her curlers, in her robe and fuzzy pink slippers. From what I understand she was still mad and still wearing the same outfit when she arrived back home. Lizabeth called to let me know she made it home okay. She was laughing so loud that I had the worst time trying to figure out what she was saying. Well, bottom line is that when Alison found out that Mad Aunt Mattie was rolling in blue blood and bucks, she tried everything to make up to her but Mattie swore she would never have anything to do with the family again. I still got the occasional card from her but I haven't really heard from her in years." He paused here thinking of the wild aunt he remembered from so long ago. "I'm really sorry to hear that she has passed away."

"Well, apparently she didn't totally cut the family off." Dylan interjected into the silence. "The package we received today contained a letter to Lura, something about a house in Scotland. Apparently there are some stipulations, Lura has to go to Scotland to claim the house and there are some other screwy requirements but basically she has two weeks to get there and the house is hers.

"Wait a minute, what kind of screwy requirement?" Richard asked, the tone of his voice conveying his concerns. "Aunt Maddie didn't want her to marry and have a child or any of that sort of foolishness. No probably not, she was never crazy about men." Richard asked and answered his own question faster than Dylan could respond. "Okay Dylan, what did Mad Aunt Mattie want Lura to do? I'm sitting down, I can take it." He added sounded as if he were steeling himself for the worst.

Dylan cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear as she flipped through the document. "Well, the only thing I see is that Lura has to stay at the house, sleeping each night in the master suite for two weeks. Once that is done, the estate is hers." She stopped here reading ahead to see if there were any other oddities she had missed.

"Is that all? No drinking Hair of the Frog? No having a male heir? No running around the house in the nude three times then setting her hair on fire?" Richard asked sounding very relieved.

"Nope, nothing like that." Dylan said, "So I guess this is for real then?" She asked.

"Well, before you go zipping off to Scotland, I would have an attorney check it out, but, yeah, I would think it is for real." Richard said, "Aunt Mattie may have been mad but she never lied to me."

"Well, I think Lura will be happy to hear that. We need a vacation anyway." Dylan added grinning at Lura and giving the still giddy blond a "thumbs up". "I will have an attorney check it to make sure, then I think I will check out some things before we fly to the other side of the world. I will keep ya posted Sir." Dylan said, slipping back into a military mindset.

Richard heard the seriousness in her voice and smiled, he knew his daughter could not be in safer hands. "Fine Dylan, call if the attorney has any questions he thinks I can help with will ya?"

"Sure thing Sir." Dylan responded hanging up the phone.

"Well, so Dad thinks this thing is for real?" Lura asked finally slowing down enough to talk to her partner.

"Yeah, he thinks we should have an attorney check it out, but apparently your Aunt Mattie was real and the chances are this letter is too."

"YAHOO! We are heading for Scotland. I wonder how it feels to be 'Landed Gentry'?" Lura grinned hugging the tall brunette.

"Well, it looks like we are going to find out, my dear." Dylan responded pulling Lura close.

Chapter 11

For some strange reason Dylan thought, her brain had tricked her into forgetting exactly how much she hated flying. For years in the military Dylan had flown from country to country on military assignments, and each time she had promised herself that she would request only stateside assignments in the future and drive where ever it was Uncle Sugar needed her. All those other flights had been through military channels and that meant coach or first available, Lura's father had pulled some strings and arranged for a flight out of Raleigh to Dulles International straight into Heathrow, all first class. So here she sat dressed in a dark blue suit with matching pumps, her partner, dressed in a dark green business suit with dark green pumps, seated in a 777 her butt securely cushioned in the deep padding of a soft dark leather reclining seat, a glass of white wine within reach and a gourmet meal in front of her. The music from the headset she wore belted out the sexy sultry tones of Melissa Ethridge, she had a beautiful woman in the seat next to her and she would pay anything to be back home, wearing her faded blue jeans, sneakers and her soft flannel shirt, chopping wood right this minute.

First she endured the claustrophobic atmosphere of the small plane out of Raleigh Durham. Aptly, she felt, called the flying bus, she had ridden the small plane concentrating on the arrival instead of the flight. Finally arriving at Dulles, they had rushed through the crowded airport to get to their terminal and catch the international flight. Dylan had not had time to consider the next step, their mad rush through the crowds and the stress of getting through security had mad her all but forget the upcoming flight.

Lura had concentrated on keeping her partner distracted and preventing her from decking the man with the wandering medal detection wand. She was apprehensive about the flight for an entirely different reason. Lura's mind had taken her back to a different flight; one that had her beautiful partner strapped to a cot her body trembling in pain. Once they arrived at the door of the large 777 Lura hesitated her eyes darting around expecting to see the sanitized layout of a medical transport plane. She felt her heart beat increase and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead as her eyes searched for the splotched uniforms she expected to see. It was almost a breath catching relief when what she saw was the deep blue uniform of the flight attendant, once her mind had adjusted to r that discovery things had been a breeze, well until now.

Lura watched her partner, worried as Dylan yawned again to relieve the pressure in her ears. The soldier hated flying and frankly Lura had been surprised when Dylan agreed to fly to Europe, she had half expected her partner to take her to the air port then catch a ship to England. The last time Dylan had been on such a long trip she had been in no shape to complain, but for some reason the pressure in the cabin had affected the soldier even when she was unconscious. She watched as Dylan chewed furiously on the three sticks of cinnamon gum she had gotten from the stewardess, apparently the pressure build up was terrible she though as she saw water build up in the pain filled blue eyes.

Dylan chewed as she felt her eardrums strain under the pressure, she yawned but nothing seemed to help finally, just as she though she would scream the plane leveled out and the pressure stabilized. She stretched her jaw again, forcing herself to yawn and with a sigh of relief she felt some of the pressure release as her ears popped.

Lura reached over and took the larger dark tan hand in her own, rubbing the soft knuckles as she watched the broad shoulders finally relax. "You okay Honey?" She asked concerned when the blue eyes closed rather than turn towards her.

"Yeah, give me a minute okay. I don't know what it is with my ears but this flying shit really sucks." Dylan said, her voice sounding strangely muffled to her ears. Yawning again Dylan pinched her nose and puffed out her cheeks nearly screaming at the sudden initial buildup the release of pressure on her ear drums, she turned her head and wiped away the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. Finally she composed herself and turned back to face her worried wife. "I'm fine Lura?"

"Yeah, if you say so honey." Lura smiled, not believing Dylan for a minute but relieved that she was apparently no longer in pain. She slid closer, slipping her arm through Dylan's and laying her head on a broad shoulder. With a sigh she closed her eyes and snuggled down for the twelve hour flight.

Dylan looked out the window, watching the white clouds and blue sky drift by between the clouds she could see the occasional hint of blue green ocean. The flight attendant spotted the sleeping blond and offered Dylan a blanket to cover her with. Nodding she helped slip the thin blue blanket over Lura's shoulder then turned back to stare out the Plexiglas window at the endless sky, the constant hum of the plane engines providing a hypnotic lullaby that quickly had the dark woman joining her partner in sleep.

Chapter 12

Lura had been dreaming of long tanned legs in a red and green kilt and a laughing Dylan chasing her across a bed of green grass. She had just allowed herself to be caught and things were beginning to get interesting when she was lured awake by the enticing smell of food.

Opening first one sleepy green eye, Lura scanned the area in front of her, spotting her table folded down and a large steaming tray her other eye blinked open and her brain focused on the delightful smell coming from the food.

Dylan watched her partner slowly awaken and grinned when the blond sat up. Lura's hair had been mussed in sleep with on side now frozen like a blond spike sticking straight up on the side of her head. Adding to the picture, Lura was fighting sleep with first one bleary green eye opening then closing and the other opening then closing. This all added to the look that Dylan had call, "Lura's Great Horned Owl impression". Chuckling Dylan picked up her fork and speared a piece of beef tip, dunking it first in the gravy then, carefully avoiding the round green enemy, peas, she scooped up a bit of the mashed potatoes then plopped the entire combination into her mouth. Chewing slowly so as to fully appreciate the blend of flavors, without peas, Dylan began to think the flight might not be so bad after all as she deftly flicked a pea onto Lura's plate and grinned.

Having finished their meal and now fairly alert Lura pulled out her books and travel guides "England, Scotland and Wales In a Week", "A History of the First World War" and "The Clans of the Scottish Highlands," she flipped to the back of the last book and looked up the city of Chambers. Dylan sat quietly, her eyes half closed behind darkly tinted glasses. As she stared out at the brightening sky, her mind busy calculating the time change.

"Hey, it says here that Chambers is in an area of Scotland called the Highlands and that the people in the Highlands were divided into clans which were led by a chief. Apparently the southern people didn't have the same set up, they were a lot closer to the English than the Highlanders. Seems the Chiefs were pretty powerful like kings in some places. No wonder the Romans and the English had such a hard time with them."

She paused here a moment reading further along. "Well, isn't that interesting." She mused aloud as she continued to read silently to herself.

Dylan listened intently as Lura continued.

"Looks like they had women's lib even back then." She chuckled. "When the clan chief died the next in line was often the wife, then the first born or oldest child, and get this, they say here it didn't matter if the oldest was male or female." Lura stopped here and stared straight ahead, smiling, "So if the oldest child was a girl and she was tough enough to lead, she did." Lura chuckled at this, imagining her tall dark haired partner in a tartan holding court over a bunch of equally tall but burly Scotsmen. She read on, studying the history of Scotland and the turmoil the small country seemed to be prone to.

"The Cameron clan was quite famous you know." She said, "They were part of the 51st Highland Division and a real pain in the German butt during the first world war. The Germans had apparently never fought men in skirts." This made her chuckle as she pictured long lines of hairy legged men in frilly skirts and pink blouses. She turned the page and the smile turned into an explanation of amazement as she saw a picture of the WWI Highland unit in a full head on assault. There was nothing humorous about it. Lura could imagine the screams as the men charged climbing over barbed wire, watching their friends and comrades fall. It seemed so unreal looking at the picture seeing the kilt covered knees peeking from under the dark colored skirts, heads covered with helmets some sporting a cocky feather. The thrill of the battle glowed in some faces, anger very visible in their eyes. Lura felt the contact with these men, she remembered the anger in her lovers eyes when they had faced the assault in the cave. Her soldier had changed, part of her loved the battle but part of her hated the killing. Lura knew that the battle had left scars on Dylan that were invisible to the naked eye. She knew that Dylan still faced those same demons often on long sleepless nights. She was sure that these men had the same problems when they returned home to loved ones. This was the first and the last great battle of man against man. Battles in the future would be from long distance shelling, sniper fire and high altitude bombing. The new modern faceless war was an emotionless war, far more impersonal, but just as mentally damaging. Lura knew how damaging man to man, or in Dylan's case man to woman, combat was; she also now had a very good idea of what Post Traumatic Stress could do to the soldier. Unconsciously she reached out and took the long slender tanned hand in her own; kissing the finger tips she stared again at the picture glad now that her partner was out of the trauma of combat.

Dylan felt the soft lips pressed to her fingers and turned to stare again out the window at the glistening white clouds and the sapphire blue sea. Her contemplation was interrupted by the passenger behind her.

A man with a laptop was typing away and speaking on his cell phone. His voice was loud and grating. Dylan glanced around at the other passengers; they were all feeling the same irritation as she was. Smiling Dylan turned around, lowering her glasses she stares unblinking at the yakking man. He paused in his conversation and looked up expectantly at the dark woman seated in front of him, one eyebrow raised in irritation.

Dylan fixed him with her patented ice cold kiss my ass Police stare and drawled out, "Do they ever shut up on your planet?"

The man's jaw dropped as the people around him applauded the brunette. He abruptly ended his conversation and put his phone away.

Dylan grinned as Lura elbowed her in the side. With a shrug of her shoulders, she laid back her eyes finally closing in an exhausted sleep.

Chapter 13

The impact of the wheels touching tarmac jarred the tall woman awake. The first thing she noticed was that her ears did not ache the second thing was the weight of the blond head on her shoulder. But all this was forgotten when her brain locked on the most urgent matter at that moment, where was the nearest rest room? She watched as the flight attendant stood to let the passengers know where they could collect their luggage and pass through customs. Lura was busy digging out their passports her head bent over the large carry on pack she had insisted on bringing, just in case. Dylan never could figure out the "just in case" part, she figured that if the plane didn't crash they would have everything they needed in their luggage and if the plane crashed, more than likely they wouldn't have any need for anything anyway. Lura had patiently explained to the more practical soldier that there was always the chance that they may be separated from their luggage. She also pointed out that it would be better to have and not need than to need and not have. Dylan simple explained that their luggage would not be lost or the air carrier would regret it. The smile she presented the blond made her think that Dylan would have loved the excuse to not go or to take out her frustration on the hapless luggage handler. She was unwilling to admit that she was extremely happy to have reached their destination in one piece; she had discovered that she had come to dislike travel by air almost as much as Dylan did.

The soldier stood, promptly banging her head on the low hanging luggage compartment. Rubbing the sore spot she helped Lura to her feet and after a few moments wait they were able to walk into the isle. Dylan reached up and unlocked the cover for the luggage compartment and retrieved their matching carryon bags. Handing Lura the smaller of the two she slung the large bag over her shoulder and took Lura's hand. Leading the way she quickly had them off the plane and through the crowd to the luggage retrieval area. Spotting a Ladies room not far from the revolving luggage belt she left Lura for a moment with the ticket stubs and headed towards the rest room. Lura smiled watching the dark head weave through the crowd to the Ladies room, her woman was amazing she though. She had gone when they arrived at the airport but had not gone during the entire trip. As a matter of fact, Lura though, Dylan had not even taken off her seatbelt until they had landed. The woman was amazing, she though, she must have the world's largest bladder. The though of Dylan, with a giant bladder and floating eyes made her chuckle as she stood waiting for their bags. Her mind was still on Dylan as she waited watching the luggage finally coming down the canvas and rubber slide to land on the revolving belt. She reached out grabbing the handle of the first bag just as she saw the second on slip down the shoot; she started to reach for it when a slender tan arm lifted the large bag smoothly off the conveyor belt. Lura looked up spotting her partner holding the second bag. "Happy now?" She asked.

"Not sure if I'm exactly happy but definitely relieved." Came the deep voice. "Your turn." Dylan said placing the bags on a rolling trolley. "I'll wait here then we can go through customs and head for the next terminal."

They had to get through the customs at Heathrow since it was their first stop in England. Here they would change planes for a smaller craft to Aberdeen in Scotland.

Lura quickly returned and the two women pushed their bags through the terminal towards the national boarding bay. There luggage was scanned, relabeled and slung onto another conveyer belt that would take it to their plane for Aberdeen.

They made it just in time to board and get seated when the flight rolled out onto the runway and they were airborne again.

Get a rental car."

"Okay, but no fair picking a car until I get back." Lura said backing towards the ladies room. Dylan nodded and waived Lura on to the rest room as she finished securing the bags,

Finally they made it through customs and on towards the car rental. Lura glanced around at the various booths trying to decide which one would best provide for their needs. Dylan spotted the shortest line and rolled the trolley to it. With a shrug of her shoulders Lura joined her, after a fifteen minute wait they finally reached the counter. "Hello ladies, welcome to Heathrow." The young man asked smiling at the two very attractive women.

Dylan stepped forward her eyes narrowing when she saw the young attendant eyeing Lura. "We need a car." Dylan said, stepping in front of Lura, her voice as chilly as the air conditioning that blew directly down on them.

"Well, let's see what we have shall we?" He asked in a smooth accented voice.

"Yes, let's." Dylan said unsmiling

The man cleared his throat, the smile fading from his face as he stared at the dark woman, sweat tricking down his back.

"Um, well we have had a busy day miss, we only have a few vehicles left. He turned the screen around so that the two women could see the options available.

"Oh, honey he's right, there isn't much to..." Lura never finished her sentence.

"We'll take this one." Dylan said pointing to a line on the screen.

The man stared at her selection. "Are you sure Miss? That isn't very large. I do have a Citron that is nice, a bit older but in fine shape."

"No, this one will do just fine." Dylan insisted.

The man turned to Lura his eyes expressing his concern.

"I find that things are easier if you just give in." Lura said shaking her head.

"Yes Miss." The man said writing up the contract.

Lura turned to stare at the now smiling brunette. "You know this isn't right don't you? Dylan are you listening to me? There is no way this is going to work out you know that don't you?" She asked. "Dylan? Dylan? Hey, are you listening to me?" She asked

Dylan just smiled and snatched up the keys, turning the trolley she headed towards the parking lot. Looking right and left she her eyes searching for the car. Spotting the vehicle she turned towards the corner of the small lot, finally stopping next to a small blue car with a bright red and white stripe down the center of the hood over the roof and down the small trunk of the little Mini.

"Dylan, how are you, me and all out luggage going to fit into this tiny car?" Lura asked tapping her foot impatiently as she watched her partner open the surprisingly large trunk and easily pack in the large bags. That done she pushed the cart back to the sidewalk and returned to the car.

"Well since you picked the car, I'm doing the driving." Lura said grabbing the keys from the trunk, pulling the door handle on the left side of the car and sliding into the seat.

A grinning Dylan slide in on the right side and held out her hands for the keys.

"Doggone it Dylan, you planned this didn't you?" Lura laughed handing the keys to the happy brunette. She was just glad that Dylan seemed to have regained her happy demeanor. Shrugging her shoulders she buckled her seat belt. She turned to face her partner surprised at the expression on Dylan's face. She didn't just look happy, she looked...excited.

Dylan turned the key and listened as the powerful Cooper race engine engaged.

"Hee-hee." Dylan chuckled as she gave the small car a bit of gas and felt the car's entire tiny body quiver in anticipation. "Oh yeah, I could get to like this." She said in a deep sultry voice.

Shifting the car into gear she heard the tires squeal and watched the smoke come from the tires.

Lura felt her head jerk back into the headrest as she turned a wide eyed stare towards Dylan who was laughing as she steered into traffic on the M20.

Dylan was so happy to be out of the crowded airport and away from the noise of the landing planes. "Keep to the left, keep to the left, keep to the left." She kept mumbling to herself as she passed car after car. Lura reached over and tuned in a local radio station then leaned back closed her eyes and pretended that she was home.

It was the sound of the horns that woke her, but it was the squeal of tires and the growling coming from the seat next to her that had her upright in her seat. She stared out the window her eyes darting back and forth searching for the cause of her partner's anger. Apparently the weather had changed; it was dark now and raining. Lura wasn't sure how far they had gotten but it seemed that they had arrived in some small town. For a moment she had forgotten that they were in a foreign country until she heard a voice cursing coming from the car behind them. Dylan was staring at the driver from the rear view mirror one dark sable eyebrow raised as she tapped her finger on the steering wheel.

"You Bloody Yanks, you're all the same. If you can't drive stay in your own country, migit!" he bellowed shaking an angry fist at what he though was small American.

"Now honey, stay calm, it isn't worth it. You remember what Dr. Shea told you, control the urge. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out." Lura said rubbing her hand down the long arm to rest her hand on the still drumming fingers.

"Move yer bloomin' arse, you bloody Yank! You American's think you own the world." The man yelled again.

"That is it, I have had enough." Dylan said

"No honey, please just stay calm..."Lura began.

"Don't any of you stupid crazy Americans know anything or are you all just stupid?" The man exclaimed

"Humm, I changed my mind Dylan. Just make sure you don't get any blood on your suit, you know how hard it is to get out linen." Lura said.

The man watched as the door of the tiny car opened. "Well now maybe I can teach this bloody idiot some British road rules." He mumbled opening his own door. His eyes widened when he saw the slender ankle step out of the door. He began regretting his anger when he saw the beautiful ankle led to a well muscled, long, slender leg, he really regretted it when he saw the face of the very tall, very striking woman. He swallowed hard as the light from his headlights glittered in the startling angry blue eyes that turned towards him. 'How in the Hell he though did such long legs get into such a tiny car?' Grinning he slid back into the seat shut the door and rolled down the window.

"Well, well what is a pretty bird like you doing out on such a dark night. Looking for company darlin'?" He asked leering at the beautiful brunette.

Dylan smiled and leaned into the window. "Bird? Now honestly, tell me, how did you know?"

"Know what cutie?" He asked feeling a bit more confident.

"That my name is Hawke, that would be Dylan Hawke, perhaps you have heard of me?" Dylan's smile disappeared and the eyes flashed an icy blue.

"Hawke? Hawke? Oh, are you related to that Yank soldier who lived in the desert a few years ago." He asked.

"Oh, boy this is going to be painful." Lura said overhearing the conversation.

"Umm, that would be a no, I am that soldier." Dylan said gracing him with one of her 'You are so dead' smiles.

"Really? Well isn't that interesting." The driver said, missing the ice blue daggers that were even now determining wether to slice him across or straight down the middle.

"Didn't you get lost or something out there? Separated from your unit or something?" He asked now truly curious.

"Actually, my unit was killed, I hunted down the killers." Dylan said, her voice soft and low, no smile

The man now smiled worried, a thin coat of film sprang up on his forehead. "So you, umm, captured them right and umm turned them over to the authorities, right?" He said nodding his head as if hoping this would prompt her to nod in agreement.

Dylan's smile disappeared completely; her eyes grew colder as she shook her head. "No I did not turn them over to authorities. I turned them over to the grave diggers." She said. "Now, you had a complaint?" She asked one eyebrow arched a sure indication that she was not happy.

The man swallowed as he turned his face back to the front windshield his trembling hands now on the steering wheel. "No, umm, no ma'am, just offering my assistance to you nice American ladies." He said, pulling on his forelock as if tipping a hat.

"That's what I thought." Dylan said backing away from the window, turning on her heel and heading back to the small car.

"God, thank you, thank you, thank you." He kept mumbling over and over again as he shifted his car into gear and waited patiently for the small blue Mini to pull off.

Dylan slid back into the seat and buckled up then turned to Lura who was trying her best not to explode into laughter. She had been watching the man through the side mirror of the car initially concerned for Dylan's safety but once she saw her partner's walk she knew that the MP Captain was back and very much in command.

"Okay go ahead and admit it." Lura said chuckling.

"What? What are you mumbling about Lura?" Dylan asked her mind concentrating on getting in and out of the round about. "Why can't these foreigners learn to drive on the right side of the road?" She muttered. "Daggum round abouts, skinny little roads are all too damn narrow".

"Admit it Dylan." Lura insisted

"What? Admit what Lura? What the devil are you getting at?" She asked.

"You enjoyed that little bit of excitement." She laughed

"Humph, you are just being silly now." Dylan replied

"You can't fool me. I saw that strut when you walked back to talk to that driver." She laughed punching the brunette in one solid shoulder.

"I have no idea what you are talking about Lura." Leaning on the horn Dylan grinned at the angry beep that the horn produced. "Learn to drive on the right side of the road!" she yelled as a car swerved wildly to get out of her way. Grinning she pulled back onto the road and laid on the gas, smiling when she heard the powerful Cooper engine growl.

"I mean you enjoyed being CPT Hawke again, didn't you. I watched ya." Lura laughed.

"Don't know what you are talking about." Dylan said frowning.

"Well, that doesn't matter, I just love to see that old swagger in your hips. Makes your butt wiggle and look so cute." Lura said rubbing her partner's thigh.

"Really?" Dylan asked her lip curling happily.

"Oh yeah, you still got it babe." Lura smiled turning back to stare out the window leaving her hand in place.

Dylan smiled, placing her hand on the small white one resting on her leg, squeezing it. She let up a bit on the gas and relaxed finally enjoying the trip.

Chapter 14

After hours on the road, Dylan finally reached her predetermined destination, Fort William, a beautiful city near Loch Linnhe. The distance they had traveled had not been that far, only about four hours, but the constant strain of driving on what Dylan considered the wrong side of the road, had taken a lot out of the already exhausted woman. Spotting a possible Inn she pulled into a tiny dark parking lot where she had spotted a slowly swaying sign, The Leaping Stag, bed and breakfast. Turning off the small car she leaned back a second to let the blood return to her hands, she shook her head when she realized that she had been holding the wheel in a death grip ever since the sun had set. Driving in England was nothing like the US. The roads were tiny and you never knew when you would turn a corner and find a horse drawn wagon full us hay clip clopping along. The road markings didn't help either, it took her a while to understand the round abouts that seemed to be everywhere, not to mention the strange zigzag stripes painted on the streets. None of that had really bothered her once she understood them; it was the tiny streets through all the small villages that had her nerves on end. Apparently many of the towns had not been able to widen the roads since the days of horse drawn carriages. The village homes were often out in the road forcing the road to narrow to one lane in some places. Then it became a matter of polite driving, or in Dylan's case a game of European chicken, she grinned. That was one part of driving she enjoyed, especially since Lura had been asleep most of the time. Sitting back Dylan dropped her arms into her lap and let out a long sigh of relief. Her head on the headrest of the driver's seat she closed her eyes for a second and felt the muscles relax in her back and neck. Turning her head to the left, Dylan stared at the woman next to her and smiled, Lura had reclined her seat and had curled up peacefully snoring away, she was turned towards Dylan, one hand under her cheek the other resting on Dylan's thigh. 'It must be love.' Dylan though with a smile as she reached out one long tanned finger to stroke a soft cheek.

"Honey? Lura, Lura, wake up Honey." She called gently. The snoring continued. Dylan rubbed the blonds shoulder, Honey, come on we are at a hotel, you can sleep better in a bed, wake up.

"No, don't wanna, fine here." A very irritated, very Southern voice responded. Lura's accent was always more pronounced when she was half asleep.

"Come on now Honey, you have to help me with the bags." Dylan insisted. She opened the car door and stepped out into the brisk English night. The air was fresh and smelled of approaching rain; the sky was a blue black, the quarter moon peeking from behind a cloud strewn sky. It was a beautiful English night and Dylan stood for a minute staring at the sky and smiled, 'God it was good to have her feet back on the ground and her ears not ringing.' It was almost nine PM which meant it was early morning in the US. The best way Dylan knew to reset her internal clock was in this case to sleep until a her normal wake up time, that gave her a good eight hours of rest coming to her, and she was definitely ready for it.

She stretched her arms high over her head smiling as she heard the bones in her back align, exhaling she leaned forward and relaxed her head and shoulders, the Mini was larger inside than it looked, but she had been sitting for hours and her body needed to stretch. Standing straight she reached inside behind her seat and grabbed her overnight bag. She shut and locked her door and slung the bag over her shoulder, walking around to the passenger side she opened Lura's door and helped the sleepy woman to stand. Leaning her against the side of the car she grabbed Lura's overnight bag and slung it over her other shoulder, locking the door she turned the sleepy blond towards the bed and breakfast and half led half carried her towards the front door.

After checking in and finding their room, Dylan gently undressed her mate, slipped a soft well worn t-shirt over her head and tucked her into bed. That done she opened her overnight bag and pulled out a well worn book, laying it on the bed she quickly stripped and slide in next to Lura. Finally able to unwind Dylan opened the book and began to read, "The History of the World War" written in 1919 by Francis A March, Ph.D. After speaking to Lura's father Dylan decided to do a bit of historical research about the town of Chambers and the estate they would be visiting. Much of the historical information she had been able to collect dealt with the First World War, apparently Chambers had become well known as a field hospital for seriously injured British, American and Scottish soldiers who fought in the costly battles in France. It's major claim to fame and now its major tourist attraction being the buildings that had been converted into field hospitals in both the First and the Second World War.

Since this seemed to be the only available information about the town and surrounding community, Dylan collected as much information as she could find on battles in France. This required that she go back and research the events surrounding the causes and result of major events that brought about the war and the critical issues that resulted in the intervention of American forces in the "War to end all wars." When she first began her research into the war she though that it would be a simple matter of hitting the local library and perhaps purchasing a book or two, what she discovered was that there was very little information available on what some would romantically call the last great war of man against man. There were volumes of information on WWII but WWI seemed to be a minor footnote in America's military history. This stunned her, considering that she soon learned that more men died in a single day's battle in the farm fields of Verdun than in the entire US Civil War, the idea that this huge and horrendous conflict was no more than a footnote in many history books was disturbing. Like most young people Dylan remembered the basics of the United States entry into the conflict. She remembered reading in several history books that the United States entered the war as a direct result of the sinking of the passenger ship Lusitanian but now her research revealed other actual events that forced the US into the battle. The war had been raging in Europe since 1914 but the US did not actually become involved until 1916, two years after the countries that would one day become our strongest allies had been assaulted and in some cases, over run by the German forces, the Huns, as the British liked to call them.

The United States had been providing support to the Allied forces in the form of raw material and manufactured goods. These trade goods were sent the most efficient way available at that time, by sea. The shipping lanes used by the United States allowed our ships to travel from any of our port cities to any of the Allie ports; we were supplying everything from raw metal to guns, beans and bullets. The German military at the time was not interested in the actions of a country they considered a minor annoyance at best and a very minor military power at worst, they had, according to the books Dylan had read, decided to conquer the Allied forces in Europe then take the battle to the other smaller or less powerful countries like the US. The German ingenuity was incredible during that era, they had developed and in as much as the technology of the period would allow, had developed a new weapon, the underwater boat. Unlike the more dangerous and far less successful Civil War Submarines that were developed in the United States in the mid to late 1800's, these ships were larger, much more powerful and by far more deadly. With the advantage of stealth, the German navy had taken over control of much of the sea trade, to the point that they sent directives to the United States that limited the ports and shipping lanes that would be available to the United States exporters. When the Lusitanian strayed from the directed shipping lane, whether by mistake or not, she and most aboard were sent to the bottom of the ocean. The United States sent notice to Germany that they wanted restitution for the loss of the ship and the loss of life, Germany apparently sent back a reply that informed the United States that they had exceeded the boundaries the German government felt were sufficient for our needs and that if we failed to stay within the lanes they determined as available for our ships, those ships would also be sent to the bottom of the sea. This is what resulted in the involvement of the United States in the first Great War; Dylan had at first been stunned by this revaluation. Everything she had ever heard about the US entry was based solely on the loss of life aboard the Lusitanian, but having read the several books on the subject now, she was no longer surprised. What did surprise her was the great loss of life and the actual combat; the battles of France were by far the bloodiest Dylan had research yet. Here soldiers often stood toe to toe fighting first with bullets and grenades then with bayonets when bullets were spent. The battle strategy of early "modern" warfare was simple, bomb and gases the Hell out of the enemy then send more men than they have across the dead man's land to wipe out any remaining targets. Early pictures of the farmlands of Verdun and the beautiful forest of the Muse Argonne were stunning; the later photos of the same areas were devastating often resembling the surface of the moon with huge craters left by the exploded ordnance. Many pictures showed bodies of soldiers left to rot in the open fields, their comrades unable to retrieve them for fear of being shot by the enemy.

When the United States entered the war, many able bodied young American men volunteered to serve "Over there". This would be the first time our country armed if forces for such a major conflict. Men and women from all walks of life volunteered, forming the first Red Cross units, our first Armored and Heavy Calvary units and our first all female units. Dylan could almost picture the women in the stories she read stories sneaking into the ranks of the men disguised as boys, many discovered only as a result of injuries tended to at field hospitals. She imagined herself in their ranks, crawling through the bloody clay and dirt of the battlefield to fight the enemy. It didn't take much to see herself there again.

Not wanting to linger on the grand strategy of the battle she selected a second book that she hoped would deal with the more personal side of the war. One that would give her an idea of what the individual soldier faced, one book in particular caught her attention, The Unknown Soldier by Arthur E. Barbeau and Florette Henri. She had heard of black troops in the Armed forces since the founding of the country, the Union soldiers of the 54th Infantry that died in the bloody sands of South Carolina in the Civil War. There were also the Buffalo Soldiers who were credited by a young Army Captain with saving the Rough Riders during the battle of San Juan Hill in the Spanish American war. That young Captain had received a nickname for his assignment to the Negro units during the conflict, CPT John "Black Jack" Pershing, who later went on to command the US forces in WWI, wrote of the courage actions of the Buffalo Soldier. In World War II the 99th Squadron of the famed Tuskegee Airmen who flew into the initial attack on Anzio came away with the highest number of enemy down in the conflict. Another unit of Tuskegee Airmen, the 332nd, the "Redtails" flew escort duty for the giant flying fortresses that were responsible for bomber assaults on German targets. This unit was the only escort unit in the war to never lose a plane and was recorded as having been involved in combat action in 80% of their flying missions.

Dylan was fascinated by what she read, early in WWI only a few military installations or camps as they were called, were allowed to train Negro soldiers for combat. These camps included Camp Jackson in South Carolina. The Negro combat units were all assigned to the 94th Division, and were made up of the 369th, the 370th, 371st and the 372nd. The units that intrigued Dylan were the 369th and the 371st both of which were involved in action in Verdun. The 369th was the only unit in the long history of the US armed forces to ever carry their state flag into combat, the flag of New York. They were given the flag prior to the unit designation of 369th, so the Fighting 15th received the state colors from the Union League Club of New York, and they returned those colors to the club at the close of the war decorated with among other things, a Regimental Croix de Guerre for the unit from the grateful people of France.

The Germans were becoming more familiar with the black troops having already dealt with the dark warriors of the British Gurka units. The Gurka prided themselves on their individual courage and usually fought with wicked curved blades in hand to hand combat. They were known to terrorize the enemy by slipping into the enemy camp late at night to kill one soldier in a two man tent. They would silently remove the dead mans ears, to prove the deed had been done, then return to the Allied camp and string the ears on a cord which they wore across their uniforms. These fearless night raids unnerved the enemy, Dylan could well understand that, imagining going to sleep at night unsure of waking the next day and if you did wake, was your tent mate alive of dead and earless. Now the Germans had more dark warriors to deal with and they were as terrifying and fearless as the Gurka. These new fierce black soldiers were the men of the 94th Division assigned to the French Army. They quickly established themselves as a force to be reckoned with, fighting with an unwavering courage that earned them the nick name of the Harlem Hell fighters.

Dylan was thrilled to read how in all their months and years in the front the 94th never lost a foot of ground though they often suffered heavy casualties. These men were the type she felt she would have been proud to stand and fight beside. As she read tale after tale of courage she grew to admire the strength and tenacity of the WWI soldier.

But the day had been a long one and though the book was fascinating she found that her eyes refused to read the words correctly, running them together in a jumbled mess. Finally she closed the book and turned off the light, curling her body around warm soft figure sharing her bed. Her mind filled with pictures of soldiers in tan leggings and pale blue helmets charging over black mud into the face of the enemy.

Chapter 15

Early the next morning the two women woke to the smell of tea and toast, showering quickly they dressed and when down to the dining room to have breakfast. Dylan brought her road map with her to check on the route she needed to follow to reach Chambers. The inn keeper rolled out a large trolley loaded with plates and covered dishes, a porcelain pot of hot water steamed next to a bowl of instant coffee packets and tiny bags of tea and sugar. Dylan's mouth watered in expectation as she lifted an empty plate and the lid of one of the covered dishes. Inside she found a pile of what she could only call gray goo.

"What the...umm, sorry." She cleared her throat, and tried again, "What is that?" She asked eyeing the goo as if it would crawl out of the bowl and onto her plate. Slowly she pulled her plate close curling one arm protectively around the edge as if to guard it from the "attack of the brownish gray goo".

"Well, young lady, that is the standard staple of the Scottish country side, haggis. This was freshly killed this morning." The inn keeper went on to say, ignoring the rolling eyes of the other guests.

"Oh, yes, our huntsman went out at the break day to hunt down this haggis fresh. Ya see," The man warmed to his topic. "Haggis is a bird found in only two places in the world. Here in the Highlands of Scotland and in the primitive wetlands of Florida in the Colonies. But Florida breeds the Lesser Haggis; it is much larger and very different from the Scottish variety." He said watching the round green eyes staring at him with total belief. "The Scottish Haggis is a flightless bird, ya see and the only bird in the world with three legs, each one a different length. That's so they can run along the hillsides of the Highlands. They have to be very quick to get away from the human hunters. So, the trick to catching fresh Haggis is to chase them out in the open, then the three legs make them run in circles and you can bag them easy like." He said demonstrating with an imaginary bag, pouncing on an unsuspecting three legged bird.

"Oh, I think I know the bird you mean." Dylan, agreed, nodding her head and puckering her brow in concentration. "They are endangered in the U.S., they are on the same endangered list as the lesser Snipe and the Great Northern Jackalope." She said one eyebrow rose as she stared at the now blushing inn keeper.

"Umm, well yes, I...I suppose they would be on the same list at that." the inn keeper agreed as the ease droppers chuckled at the man for getting caught in his own trap.

"Oh honey, do you think we will see any on our trip?" Lura asked grabbing Dylan's arm hopefully.

"Well, I really don't think so Lura. They are very rare ya know." Dylan said unable to stop the comment from spilling out.

The innkeeper winked at her and held out the tray of haggis again.

"Come on now Miss, you would hate that the poor haggis died in vain. Have a taste, it is a Scottish tradition as common here as, oh say, grits are to you good folks in the Colonies."

"Well, grits don't look like that, all brown and gray and lumpy and jelly like." Dylan grimaced her full attention back on battling the horrid looking goo.

"No, grits are more like white and lumpy and jelly like." Laughed Lura receiving the expected frown with the addition of a poked out tongue from her wife.

"Don't you have something simple like eggs and toast?" Dylan asked.

"Yes Miss, hold on." He returned a few minutes later with a plate of pale golden eggs and large thick rounded slabs of bread smothered in butter."

Dylan grinned as she scooped eggs onto a plate and added three thick pieces of bread to the pile. Smiling she reached for Lura's plate adding eggs and toast to it, with a flourish she set the plate in front of the smiling blond.

"Is there anything else I can get for you ladies?" the Inn keeper asked, smiling at the two attractive women.

"Well," Lura commented, "we are on our way to a little town in Scotland, called Chambers.

"Oh, going to see the hospital and battle museum eh? Well, that is an interesting place but probably the only things there ta see." He smiled.

"Well, Dylan will want to see anything military." Lura laughed, "But I am going to see an old family home there."

"Oh, well that explains it." He flirted.

"Explains what?" Lura asked

"Why you are such a cute bit of heather. You have the look of the Scots in ya all right." He flirted, "So what manor are you going to see?" he asked.

"Cameron Hall," Dylan interjected, pausing in the middle of her meal turning the map towards the Inn Keeper.

He paused, his face reflecting surprise. "Cameron Hall? You are heading to the old manor house? Why would you want to go there, that place is haunted? Don't you know that?" He asked looking at first the small blond then the taller brunette.

"Oooh, haunted." Lura whispered, turning to grin at the un amused face of her wife.

As the little Mini zipped along the country roads Lura stared at the map following the thin black line drawn by the inn keeper. She had assumed the role of copilot and navigator on this little venture and was much happier looking at the map than the road. She just couldn't get use to the idea of staying on the left, and the idea of passing someone gave her the shivers. So far, the directions had been pretty straight forward, they had stayed on the A82 for about thirty minutes of so. Then turned off onto the A86, they reached a bridge across the river into Loch Linnhe and had to wait a few minutes for the bridge to lower. While they waited Lura checked the map again to try and gauge the distance they had left to travel, it appeared as if Chambers was in the middle of nothing. She felt the small car shudder as it started forward and bumped across the bridge. They turned onto Corran-Ardgour road which they followed onto the A830. The scenery along this stretch of road was beautiful; it ran parallel to Loch Eil which seemed to be set in a beautiful valley of velvet green. They passed the turnoff to A861 and began looking for signs for Chambers. Finally a small sign pointed to a paved road on their right, they turned and they began the long trek through the hills towards Chambers.

Though the highway was far behind them, the roads that took them winding through the small Scottish hamlets were maddening. The names of the towns were often impossible for Lura to wrap her Southern tongue around and by the time she had figured out the name, they were through it and on their way to the next one.

In addition to the narrow twisting roads, Dylan had to assure Lura on more than one occasion that the birds she spotted along the edge of the roads were not the endangered haggis. After her fourth, or fifth, spotting of the elusive three legged bird, Dylan finally broke the news to her that the Inn keeper had been "exaggerating" just a bit about the creature, big mistake. Now, not only was Lura pissed off at her, but at the mention of the word 'Haggis', Lura's stomach chimed in as if on cue. The blond at first stared down at her loudly complaining stomach then up at her smiling partner with a green eyed glare.

"What? Not real? You mean to tell me you sat there and let all those people snicker and laugh at me, your wife, and you knew about it all along? Well, I,...I...I just don't know what to say, but I am sorely disappointed in you Dylan." With a final glare she sat back in the seat crossed her arms and promptly ignore it her grumbling stomach and her grinning partner.

It was then that Dylan screwed up for the second time in the last few minutes. A small chuckle escaped her lips and though she tried desperately to slap her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound, it somehow escaped through her fingers.

Growling as loudly as her stomach Lura turned her entire body away from the now contrite dark haired woman, presenting Dylan with her back. Hearing her stomach grumble again she wrapped her arms more tightly around the boisterous belly and tried to look out the window. This only reminded her of her search for the three legged haggis, which in turn reminded her that she was mad at Dylan, which reminded her stomach that she was hungry and resulted in more complaints.

"This is just a vicious cycle." She mumbled to herself, "More like a vicious triangle, a three sided, three legged triangle."

She glared out the window again, this time her eyes catching the pouting sad blue eyes in the glass reflection. Unable to tolerate 'the look' and her stomach, she finally gave in sighed in resignation and reached over, taking Dylan's hand giving it a gentle squeeze. Feeling the squeeze returned she sat back in her seat and smiling, returned to watching the road again. Calm and happiness restored, Dylan pressed the pedal and cranked up the radio. Searching for something to listen to she finally turned it off and began to chant an old military running song.

"A yellow bird, with a yellow bill was sitting on my window sill. I lured him in with a piece of bread and then I..."

"Dylan! The last thing I want to hear about is birds." Lura interrupted, this was definitely not her favorite chant, especially at this particular moment. "Honey, can't we stop somewhere and get a bite to eat? We have been on the road for hours and I'm starving, not to mention the need to find a bathroom." Lura added

Dylan, had been feeling a bit hungry as well, but she was torn between her anxiety to reach the manor house and her hunger. She didn't like the idea of being out roaming lost through a strange countryside and had been pushing to reach some sort of larger town before they stopped.

"Okay baby, we will stop in the next crack in the road and get a bite to eat. I have been dying to try the fish and chips." She smiled.

"Yeah, right." Lura laughed, "What you really mean is you have been dying for some French fries. Admit it." She laughed. Dylan just smiled and pressed harder on the gas.

"Well, I guess it could be worse," Lura chuckled, "most wives have to worry about their other half drinking or drugs. It sure is good to know that my woman's drug of choice is French Fries.

Chapter 16

Dylan pulled into a small town she grinned as they passed the town sign, it read Chambers. She looked over at Lura, the smiling blond looked back, as Dylan began to hum, 'A yellow bird, with yellow bill..."

"DYLAN!" Lura yelled as she poked her partner in the side.

"Ow! Hey, okay, okay, I get it, no bird song." Dylan chuckled.

"Hey look over there." Lura said pointing to a street corner.

A vender stood inside a small wooden booth, the counter a hot pot of oil sending fragrant steam into the air. The counter top held newspapers in a small stack with a brick holding them in place. The smiling vendor stood chatting with a tiny grey haired older woman. He burst out laughing at a comment made by the small woman, whose facial expression had not changed yet her body seemed to radiate anger. Lura looked at Dylan and shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

"Well, who cares, he has food." Dylan grinned.

"Oh, yeah, great minds think alike." Lura agreed.

They pulled up to the vendor stand; Dylan put the car into neutral, pulled up the hand break and stepped out. Lura watched as Dylan dickered the price and watched as the vendor nodded, he turned his back and did something at the steam. When he turned around he held a pair of tongs with something golden in them. He reached out for the brick and moved it, he flipped the paper over and laid the golden item on the paper it was soon joined with piles of chips. The entire pile was wrapped in the paper and slipped to Dylan; it was soon joined by a second wrapped package. Dylan passed over several small colorful bills and got a handful of coins and the two packages in exchange. She nodded towards the back of the booth and laid some of the change back on the counter and picked put two familiar red cans. Grinning she turned back to the car, Lura reached over and opened the door, holding out her hands she took the cola cans from her partner and waited for Dylan to sit down.

"So, whad'ya get? It smells great." Lura said.

"Fish and chips, the staple of the Scottish countryside." Dylan grinned, imitating the accent of the innkeeper to perfection.

Lura laughed and took a package from Dylan, curious about the package and the great smell coming from it.

Dylan tore the newspaper and opened the package, inside was a large piece of golden crispy fish, two small plastic packages of malt vinegar and a large bundle of French fries. Reaching in Dylan grabbed the pack of malt vinegar, tearing it open with her teeth she squirted the vinegar on the fish and fries curious to try the new flavor combination.

Lura watched her partner as Dylan picked up a fat Scottish 'chip'. She held it up to the light coming from the front window, checking the clarity of the fry and the grains of salt sprinkled on the crisp. She held it to her nose sniffing the tangy sent of vinegar then slipped the fry into her mouth. Her eyes rolled up her mouth working, chewing slowly; she inhaled, allowing the air to flow over her palate, like a taster of fine wines. Lura knew she had a happy soldier when the eyes closed slowly and a smile formed on her partner's lips.

"Folks, we have a winner." Lura grinned, her small white teeth snapping a fry in half.

Later, the two women sat in the car quiet, comfortable and full. Dylan reached out and took the small blonds hand in her own.

"Hey, let's find someone who knows how to get to your house and find a nice warm bed to cuddle in." She grinned, squeezing then releasing Lura's hand, she reached for her seat belt buckled up and heard her wife click her belt in place.

"Let's find a gas station and fill up and I will ask for some directions." Dylan said shifting the little mini into gear.

With a quick check of her rear mirror Dylan pulled out onto the ancient cobbled road her eyes searching for a gas station. The two smiling women stared out the window seeing the tiny houses with tile and thatched roofs the women walking to the small shops pushing big wheeled carriages and walking small dogs. It looked just like a picture from a vacation flyer. Lura turned and grinned at Dylan.

"Isn't this just too cool? Just like a storybook." She said.

"You mean, the one where the young woman discovers that she is to inherit the mansion and move into ritzy part of town?" Dylan asked smiling.

"Something like that." Lura said.

"Well then my dear shall we find that gas station and get some directions?" Dylan laughed.

"Yep and there is one right there next to...no, I don't believe it. It can't be." Lura said laughing.

"Oh yeah, the Great Spirit is good." Dylan said laughing at the tall golden arches she saw next to the gas station.

"Man, those guys are everywhere." Lura said joining Dylan in their laughter.

She turned the wheel and pulled into the gas station. Putting the car into park Dylan stepped out and started to reach for the pump handle before she realized that the filler door was on the other side. Swearing under her breath she got back into the car and pulled out, turned the car around and pulled back in. Smiling she got out again and opened the filler door, lifted the pump handle and began pumping gas.

Lura opened the door, "Honey, I am going to find the little girls room, I'll be right back."

"Okay, but don't be too long, this little thing doesn't take that much to fill." She called back.

Dylan glanced around at the town as she filled the tank, the roads as far as she could see were covered with cobblestones and off in the distance the rolling hills were covered with heather and dotted with small thick forests. These forests were very different from pine scented woods of Dylan's home. These trees were very ancient, but she could feel the emptiness that let her know that much was missing here. Her eyes scanned the sky searching for something familiar. This made her chuckle, she had not been in this country for two days and she missed her home. It really didn't surprise her, ever since she had returned from the desert she had felt reconnected with her home. With Lura there she had felt no desire to leave the Carolina's and had only traveled when Lura had insisted she come with her to meet her father. That had been and experience, it made her smile. Just then the pump clicked, she squeezed the handle to top off the tank, put the cap back on and returned the pump handle to its holder. Taking the keys she stepped around the car and walked into the shop to pay.

She placed the money for the gas on the counter and reached into her pocket for the road map again.

"Hello Miss, is there something else I can get for you?" the smiling attendant asked handing Dylan her change.

"Yes, my friend and I are trying to get to Cameron Hall. Can you give us some direction?" She asked her mind preoccupied with opening the map which resulted in her missing the expression on the man's face.

"Um, I'm sorry Miss, I have no idea how to get there." The man said quickly then turned and walked away from the counter into a back office shutting the door and leaving Dylan standing there stunned.

"Hi Honey, something wrong?" Lura stepped up behind her partner, wrapping an arm gently around a slim waist.

"Well, either that fella is just damn rude or there is something weird going on with him." She said folding the map and putting it back in her pocket. She placed her arm around Lura's shoulder and the two women walked back out of the shop.

"I think I will ask over at the Mc Donald's maybe I'll have better luck there getting directions." Dylan said leading Lura towards the nearby fast food eatery.

Pushing open the door she waited while the young girl behind the counter finished with the customer in front of them before she stepped up and pulled out the map again.

"Can I help you Miss?" The young woman asked, in a friendly tone.

"Well, I hope so, I am trying to get some directions to Cameron Hall and..."

"Why would you want to go there? It's haunted ya know." The girl stated matter a factly. Her pleasant smile, was rapidly disappearing into a frown of concern and confusion.

Lura who had been standing slightly behind Dylan had watched the whole thing and had been surprised at the cashier's response.

"Well, we are here from the United States and..." Lura never did finish her sentence.

"Oh, you are the American's Mrs. McDougal has been expecting." The young woman said smiling again. "Well in that case you probably won't have any trouble at all with the spooks and spirits at the old manor. They never do bother family." She said.

Pulling out a napkin and a pen she quickly sketched out a map to the manor and slid it to Dylan.

"Getting there is fair easy Miss. You just go back out of town the way you came in. When you get to the end of the road turn to your right and head towards the woods, they are the only woods around so you can't miss them. The Manor is in the glen on the far side.

Dylan smiled and thanked the girl and passing the napkin to Lura turned and headed out to the car. She stopped at the door and turned back to look at the girl at the counter. "Um, one more thing Miss." She asked.

"Yes?" smiled the young woman.

"What time do you open and do you use the same recipe as they use in the States?" Dylan asked frowning slightly.

"We open at eight o'clock Miss, and all the McDonalds use the same recipes, it's the way it's written in the handbook." She answered a bit confused.

"Good, very good. Oh, and no haggis or anything right?" She asked.

"Um no Miss, only what is written in the book." The girl answered still confused.

"Yes!" The tall woman whispered, as she turned and whistling, 'A yellow bird...' left the restaurant.

Lura shook her head and grinning, started to follow but could not resist asking the girl the one question that had plagued her since they had arrived in Chambers. "Does anyone know who is haunting the manor?"

"No Miss, I just know that it has been that way for as long and most of us can remember. They say the woods around the manor are haunted to. All I know is what I have heard. The woods by the manor are the only trees for miles around because the woodsmen refuse to go in there. They say there are harpies and goblins there. The manor is haunted some say by the old laird himself, killed in the great world war. I heard that the only people not bothered by the ghost are true blood Cameron's." The girl whispered her eyes wide with excitement. "You just be careful in the there Miss, or mark my words, you will leave there with hair as white as Mrs. McDougal's...if you leave at all." She added.

"Thank you, umm I appreciate the advice. I think." Lura added as she turned to join her partner.

Chapter 17

The little blue Mini streaked like a small bluebird down the ancient roads taking the two Americans deeper into the Highlands. Soft music played and Lura hummed along as she watched the beautiful heather flash by her window. Her mind, preoccupied with comments made by the young woman in the McDonalds had been creating images of ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night. She had turned on the radio and Dylan had finally taken the hint and had stopped whistling that annoying tune, so with the sounds of elevator music now coloring the background, she was free to think. 'What or rather who, was haunting Cameron Hall.'

"Dylan, what do you think of ghosts?" She asked her dark partner, her face still turned towards the glass.

"What do you mean Lura? Do I think they exist? Yes, I do. Do I think they can hurt the living? No, not really." Dylan answered honestly.

"What do you mean not really?" Lura asked finally turning to look at the former soldier. She was pretty sure that Dylan was right, after all she was taught by Grey Hawk and he was a great Shaman. She just wanted some clarification on this 'Not really' business.

"Well, based on what Grandfather taught me the best way I know to explain it is that ghosts or spirits are kinda like PTSD."

"Dylan, what in the world does Post Traumatic Stress have to do with ghosts? I mean, that just doesn't make sense." Lura said now beginning to doubt her initial assumption.

She watched as Dylan thought of an answer for her. Finally her reply came, in a soft deep voice.

"Well, think of it this way. According to the book I got from Dr. Shea, PTSD is caused by trauma that an individual experiences. That trauma isn't something that the person would normally face.

"Yeah, I know what it is, just how it figures into ghosts though...come on Dylan, there is no way. I mean, these are dead people right? They cause trauma, they aren't trauma." Her attention now completely focused on Dylan, Lura turned and stared doubtfully at her wife waiting for the explanation she knew was coming. She really loved the way Dylan's brain worked, pointing out the hidden clues in problems and the missed points in ideas.

"Okay Falcon, think of the human mind like a kind of big filing cabinet, with drawers and files for every major event in a normal life. In each drawer is a file for the little things around that event. Now, when something abnormal happens there is no file and some times there isn't even a drawer for it, so you mind sticks it in a closet or on a shelf or in a dark box in some corner of your brain, somewhere safe until your conscious self is ready to deal with it, make a file for it."

She stopped here glancing at Lura to make sure she followed her train of thought. Seeing a nod she continued.

"Sometimes, the thing that happens is so horrible that the box it is in is buried deep in a dark corner and that file is never made. That can be good or bad. Good because sometimes you can go on with your life and never remember and the thing stays buried forever. But," She paused here, her hands beginning to twist the soft leather of the steering wheel. "sometimes things happen that make that closet door open or lifts the lid on that buried box. It usually happens by accident. Some smell, some sound, some movement you catch out of the corner of your eye and suddenly you at back there, to where the thing happened."

Dylan stopped again. Lura could she her struggling with this, remembering when the lid blew off of her box the one buried deep in that complicated mind.

"When the lid blows off, that's when you have a flashback?" Lura asked, sure of the nodded response.

"Yeah, that is when you have a flash back." Dylan stopped here and swallowed her throat now very dry as if filled with golden sand.

Lura waited as her soldier gathered her thoughts.

Dylan continued in a stronger voice now. "Sometimes, if you work very hard and when you are ready you lift up the lid and then when the box opens you can grab the thing. You fight it until you and it have and understanding. You know it will never go away, but now you have a name for the thing and you have a file for it. You may have to open a new drawer, but you stick it in the drawer and you learn from it."

Dylan stopped again, her voice now almost silent. "You must never forget it, but do you just learn to deal with it. You learn to control it, not let it control you."

They were both quiet for a time, and then Dylan spoke again.

"I figure that ghosts are the trapped spirits, the trapped trauma, of people who died while something happened that they didn't understand or have time to prepare for. They never had time to name the thing or to file it away, so now they are forced to relive it over and over again, just like it happened the day they died. They have to keep at it until something else happens that allows them to file it away. Sometimes it's a shaman who helps them but most times there is no one who can tell them, because no one knows what really happened. No one knows who they are or why there are there. That is when it starts." She finished, her eyes still on the road.

Lura knew that her partner had been working hard to get to the point that she could grab the 'thing' that had so traumatized her in the desert. Dylan had never been able to really file it away, Lura knew that Dylan had not reached that point yet. The explanation she gave made sense though but she still left out one big piece.

"What? What starts?" Lura asked watching Dylan, with big green eyes. "And had better start explaining that 'Not really' part too. Don't you dare go leading me down some spooky old Gray Hawk path and leave me hanging there in the dark. You had best be enlightening me on that one partner." Lura joked, poking the firm shoulder next to her, hoping to lighten Dylan's mood a bit.

"Ow, okay, okay, don't get your feathers ruffled Honey." Dylan said smiling and rubbing the point on her shoulder that still felt the poke from her little falcon.

"The not really part is easy. Ghosts, spirits aren't solid, they can't really poke a finger through your arm, like a person can." She said turning a pouty face at a very unsympathetic blond. Seeing no give in her wife's expression, Dylan continued.

"Gray Hawk told me that real spirits and ghosts are only concerned with what happened to them in their life times. Some spirits know something is not quite right and they need help to cross over, but since most folks aren't sensitive enough to help them or even realize they are there, they linger, waiting in a half way place. Not alive and not really gone. Those are the ones that are the most frightening; they are the ones that try to communicate with the living. Usually you don't have to worry about them though; Gray Hawk says they are very rare. For the most part spirits are just lingering trauma that doesn't even realize the body is gone. It is like a old record with a stuck needle, it plays the same song of death over and over. Most of those spirits died suddenly, like in an accident, or murdered or...or in combat."

Dylan's voice drifted off, fading whit the last comment.

Lura knew that her partners mind was drifting back to faces of young soldiers and she also wondered if they had time to make their file.

Concerned, Lura squeezed the hand that had now clutched the steering wheel in a white knuckle grasp. Dylan glanced over, seeing the concern in Lura's eyes she smiled sadly and continued.

"The thing you have to watch out for is not getting spooked by the spooks and doing something silly like running away from them off a cliff or something." Dylan said forcing her shoulders to relax as she tried to release her death grip on the steering wheel.

"Oh, well yeah, that would be silly." Lura said with a short laugh.

"Dylan?"

"Yeah?"

"You are sure about that thing, where ghosts can't really touch you, right? You are sure aren't you? You aren't just saying that to make me feel better right?" She asked just a bit frightened now. Her comforting hand now rubbing a friction raw spot into Dylan's

"Yeah, Honey, I'm sure." Dylan answered, turning her hand over to squeeze then release Lura's.

The two women sat quietly both thinking of the same thing. Lura turned back to stare again out of the window, watching the heather rush by.

Ahead, the road narrowed to a single lane, the firm asphalt became rough and in some places cracked and broken by the life roots of large trees.

As they entered the forest, the sky seemed to darken, the blue and white clouds partially blocked out by the heavy limbs of the green giants. Cold air began to creep into the car, Lura reached out to adjust the temperature gauge; she had just switched the heat on when the radio began to crackle. The static grew louder, drowning out the music and the sound of the car's engine.

Dylan watched as the sky seemed to darken. The air inside had become cold.

Dylan opened her mouth to ask Lura to switch on the heat just as she saw the blond learn forward. Suddenly things changed, the sky was now clear and blue, the air was warm and she was standing outside.

Where was the car? Where was Lura? She tried to turn around, to look for the small blue car and her wife, but her body wouldn't move.

Ahead of her she spotted a young man with stunning red hair walking away from her. He was dressed in a tan shirt and pants, with black and tan boots. His head was bare and the light of the sun made the deep red, burn with life. In one hand he carried a cane that was when she noticed the slight limp.

Dylan opened her mouth trying to call out to him for help, but her throat was paralyzed.

As she watched, several men in dark uniforms seemed to materialize from forest. The trees, were alive with them, they sprang from the very ground at the man's feet. As Dylan watched helplessly, they all attacked the slender red haired man.

She felt her muscles straining as she fought to break free, to help the man in the tan cloths. She watched as he man fought, the over whelming numbers. They held his arms, beating him as he struggling to break free. Finally he was able to throw off the hands that held him, to turn and head in her direction.

Dylan felt her mouth drop and her lungs fill with air to scream out. The face that turned to hers was no man, but a beautiful red haired woman dressed in men's' clothing.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched one of the strangely dressed men lift a heavy club to strike the woman on the back. The red head stumbled on her weak leg just as the blow fell, landing on her neck instead of her back. Dylan heard the sound of the woman's neck breaking, she tried to close her eyes, to block out the site but it was no use. The redhead stopped fighting, falling to her knees, then forward onto her face. The strangers hit her again and again, until finally one called out in a language Dylan barely recognized, German.

One of the men, the one who called out, rolled the woman over; the expressions on the faces of the attackers told Dylan everything. They too had been fooled by the woman's dress, they were stunned, saddened, even horrified when they looked on the face of the woman they had just killed.

Dylan watched as the quickly dug a shallow grave and gently placed the woman in it. One man, an older man, pulled a cloth from his pocket and covered the cold pale face. As he did, the sky grew dark again and slowly Dylan felt the strength returning to her body. she was cold again, and she was back in the car.

Lura reached out and turned off the radio just as the car swerved to the side bouncing off the steep bank of the road.

"Hey, you wanted to drive, so be careful will ya!" Lura exclaimed, her attention still focused on the buttons of the temperature gauge.

The car slowed and bounced off the bank again, "Hey, Dylan, what are...", her voiced faded out when she saw her soldier.

Dylan's hands rested limp on the steering wheel, her head was tilted back on the headrest her eyes glazed over and dull.

"DYLAN! Honey, honey wake up!" Lura reached out grabbing the wheel and shaking Dylan's shoulder. The dark woman did not respond. Her body slid forward in the seat forcing her foot down onto the gas pedal and the car began racing wildly through the dark woods.

Lura was stunned and terrified, Dylan was unconscious and unresponsive, she had no idea why, and more importantly at this moment, how to stop the car.

"Stay calm Lura, stay calm. Dylan always says panic after things are under control. So why isn't she awake to help me not panic?"

Lura stared out the windshield her eyes straining in the dark to see.

"Lights, ya need lights." Lura mumbled to herself, her eyes darting between the windshield and the dashboard, searching quickly for the light switch. Finding it she pulled the knob, initially relieved when the beams illuminated the road ahead. The feeling of salvation disappeared the instant she realized that the trees seemed to be jumping out in front of her. Jerking the wheel sharply to the left she pulled Dylan to her, and away from the pedals. As Dylan's foot left the gas pedal the car slowed, chugging and stuttering and the engine dying as it finally came to a stop against an embankment. Lura felt the air leave her lungs and she collapsed against the limp form of her partner, her body trembling with relief.

Closing her eyes Lura sent up a silent prayed in gratitude as she realizing that they were out of the woods, literally. She looked out the window of the car, the trees were gone, twisting around she gazed out of the back windscreen, the view she saw the ancient forest. The appeared, as before, dark and silent but, now it was also shrouded in a heavy mist that stopping at the forest edge. A moan beside her drew her attention; she was stunned to see tears streaking Dylan's pale cheeks.

"Dylan? Honey are you alright?" Lura spoke softly to the dark woman, not sure where she might be and what nightmare from her past was tormenting her. Kissing the creamy cheek she rubbed Dylan's hand trying to bring the woman around.

"Please Dylan open your eyes Sweetheart."

Dylan felt as if she had been swimming through molasses, the sound of Lura's voice pushing back the last of the dream state she had been in. Startled, she sat up suddenly, her eyes darting around searching for the strange men and the dead woman but finding nothing but the stunned green eyes of her wife. Pulling a grateful Lura into her arms as her shaky voice asked, "What happened Lura? How did we get here? Where are all the Germans?"

Lura lifted her head from the warm shoulder to stare into blue eyes. "What soldiers Dylan? There aren't any soldiers Sweetheart."

Was Dylan having another bout of flashbacks? Did you bring your med?" Lura was genuinely concerned; she remembered how upset the soldier had been when she suffered from flashbacks. Frankly, she was surprised that Dylan was able to control her reaction so well. The horror of what she had witnessed still gave her nightmares, she knew that Dylan had been through five years of Hell and the mental scars were horrendous.

"No, didn't you see them? German soldiers or men dressed as Germans. They were attacking a woman in uniform." Dylan's eyes searched the road behind them, looking for the people she had just seen.

"Honey, there are no soldiers, just trees and fog and heather." Lura said. "There aren't even any wild haggis around." She added trying to ease the tension she felt in the air.

Dylan's blue eyes flickered from window to window, with the same results each time. Large dark trees and swirling grey fog were the only things she saw. Sighing heavily she squeezed Lura one more time, rubbing her back as if to assure herself of this reality, then releasing the blond. Turning back to the wheel she cranked up the small car and shifted into reverse, backing the chrome bumper from the dirt of the embankment.

It had all seemed so real, the woman, the soldiers, the sounds and the blood, but, staring out of the rear window, Dylan saw nothing that even resembled turned earth. There was no unmarked grave and certainly no people standing over a body. Confused she frowned and focused her attention back on the road in front of her, trying to convince herself that she had somehow fallen asleep at the wheel and had suffered from one of her nastier nightmares.

Lura watched her wife frown and her eyes flicker to the rear view mirror several times before staring determinedly out the front windshield. She was not sure what had happened, but apparently Dylan was just as shaken as she had been. She reached out and placed her hand on the tanned one wrapped around the gear shift as her eyes also turned to the front window.

Chapter 18

The interior of the car had begun to get warm, the heat now blowing uncomfortably on her feet, Lura reached forward to adjust the thermostat again. They were just cresting a hill when she heard a gasp slip from her wife's lips as the car jerked to a stop for the second time that day.

Her eyes glanced first to Dylan then up over the dash, almost afraid to look, for fear of seeing German soldiers, but what she saw tore a gasp from her lungs as well.

Directly in front of them spread a small green valley and on the other side, a deep green hill all connected by a evergreen tree line. The sun, shining down on the grass and heather covered hill side made the landscape in front of them shimmer in almost surreal color and beauty. Seemingly buried in the side of the hill and holding on as if with great stone claws stood Cameron Hall.

This was not what Lura had expected, not even close. She'd had very little time to research the history of the Highland clans but she knew that many of the larger ones had lost everything to the English when Scotland had been conquered by the Brits. She remembered her disappointment when she also learned that many of the original ancient manor homes had been either destroyed or redesigned more along the lines of their new English owners. But this place, this manor, seemed to have stubbornly kept a firm hold of its heritage and the past. It was a work of art reflecting back to a time when the proud people of Scotland ruled themselves, when the code of the clan or the word of the clan leader was the law of the land.

Crouched, like an ancient grey lion, on the side of the hill, sat a huge stone castle. Even from this distance Lura could see the moat curled around the base, like two thick paws tucked under a furred chest. The moat, now empty, was filled with lush green grass where once, Lura imagined, brackish water had been. Her minds eye filled in the missing knights and the moat monster, a giant hidden beast, possibly a giant serpent, lying in wait for the unlucky human to stray too close.

A lowered drawbridge led to a heavy arch and a pair of dark wooden gates which opened onto the estate as if offering passage into the mouth, of the yawning jaws of the cat.

On the great stone turrets of the ancient walls flew the proud flag of Scotland and coat of arms of the fiery Clan Cameron, the red and gold of the shield glittering in the bright sunlight.

Silence filled the car as the two stunned Americans stared at the ancient building.

Lura's hand squeezed Dylan's in a death grip, her knuckles turning white as her eyes widened as if to take in as much of the view as possible.

"Dylan?"

"Yeah?"

"Dylan?"

"Yeah?"

"Dylan?"

"Yeah, already!" exclaimed the dark haired woman.

"Honey, pinch me will ya?" Lura asked softly. "Ow."

"Well, at least we both know you aren't dreaming." Dylan told her, not taking her eyes off of the sight in front of her.

"Ya know when the lawyers told me I had inherited a Scottish manor; I kind of pictured something a bit...smaller." Lura said holding her thumb and index finger up close together. "I guess I should have asked more questions huh?" She said, still dazed.

"Umm, that would be an affirmative there, wife of mine." Dylan agreed finally shifting the car into gear and easing forward.

As they approached the castle Lura stared around them at the lush green countryside. Trees were scattered in small groups in several places and in others the ground was bar and smooth as if wiped clean by a giant hand. The ground was broken by the occasional grey stone of piled boulders but otherwise the fields were empty.

"I had heard that the Highlands were very pretty but I had no idea how beautiful it could really be until now." Lura said her voice still a whisper.

"Lura, exactly how much of this land do you own?" Dylan asked her eyes sweeping the view.

"Actually, I'm not sure Dylan. The lawyers just told me that I had been named heir to the estate, the houses all they contain and all the land it included. I was so excited I didn't think to ask exactly how much that was." Lura explained smiling now but still stunned.

"Well let's hope some one in the 'castle' knows because I think I may get accused of marrying you for your money." Dylan laughed.

"Hah, all anyone has to do to know that isn't true is to look into my eyes my love." Lura said turning to look at Dylan as she slipped her hand through the former soldiers strong arm.

"Well, it sure is good to know that you didn't marry me just for my charm and personality sweetie." Dylan joked relieved at Lura's reply. "Shall we go and peruse your little country house my lady?"

"Yes, let's." Came the haute reply from the blond as she tilted her small nose into the air and waved her hand motioning Dylan forward.

Chapter 19

The rattle of the ancient wood was the only sound they heard as they crossed the drawbridge and entered the estate. Dylan pulled the little blue Mini to a stop in front of the great doors of the castle. She stared out the car window and up at the huge wooden doors. For some strange reason the only thing she could think of was how in the world the ancient Scots had hung such obviously heavy doors.

As they both sat there the doors swung silently open and a tiny grey haired woman stepped out onto the stone at the top of the stairs.

"Welcome to Cameron Hall. Will you be Miss Lura then?" She asked in a heavy Scottish accent.

Lura smiled widely at the small woman pleased to see a friendly face at this almost threatening building.

"That would be me." Lura stated walking forward, her hand outstretched towards the older woman.

Dylan unfolded her body from the car and stepped up behind Lura, her hand placed protectively on her wife's lower back.

The grey haired older woman wrinkled her brow at the tall dark woman.

Lura watched the two stare at each other, her antenna suddenly alert for possible issues.

"I am Mrs. McDougal, the housekeeper." She stated, turning to Lura, her voice warm with Highland charm. "And you must be Captain Hawk?" She asked turning steely grey eyes on Dylan.

"I am Dylan Hawk. Is there a problem?" Dylan asked, her tone leaving no doubt of her possible reaction to any negative response.

"Well, no, I suppose not, it's just..." The woman's voice faded out as she turned and headed back towards the house.

"Hold on Mrs. McDougal. You said, 'it's just...'" Lura began, leaving her sentence hanging. She turned looked at the older woman one eyebrow raised, her green eyes now reflecting a cold doubt.

"Nothing, Ms. Lura, nothing at all." Mrs. McDougal said continuing up the stairs.

"Hold up Mrs. McDougal. If you have a problem then I feel it only fair we deal with it now." Lura said, ready to take on this small woman.

"It's just that I lost and I really hate to lose." Replied Mrs. McDougal. Turning back she continued up the stone stairs.

Lura looked at Dylan and imagined the expression on her face was just as puzzling.

"Lose? You lost something?" Lura asked chasing after the rapidly moving woman.

"Well, yes, but never mind that." Said the housekeeper. "Let's just get you all inside and settled. Blast his hide, the devil take him." She mumbled.

"The devil take who?" Dylan asked her arms now full of luggage

"Pardon me Miss, that wasn't for your ears." the housekeeper said as she opened the door and admitted the two women into the foyer of the manor.

"We had a bet and I lost, and believe me I will never hear the end of that one." She mumbled, "The devil take him."

She continued on towards the stairs totally unaware that she had lost the two Americans.

Lura had stopped after the first two strides into the house, Dylan who had been concentrating on not dropping the luggage and keeping the housekeeper in site, ran into the small blonds back. This caused Lura to stumble forward, and Dylan, seeing Lura on the verge of falling, dropped all the bags and made a quick grab for her wife. Tripping on the luggage at her feet, Dylan wrapped her arms around Lura and twisted, bringing the smaller woman to her chest and her rear end into direct contact with the hard cold floor.

Mrs. McDougal, hearing the sound paused and turned to see what had caused the delay.

"Well, there will be plenty of time for that later upstairs Miss. Right now the staff is waiting to meet you." The small woman had not batted an eye but turned back and continued her walk through the foyer.

"Are you alright honey?" Lura asked from her perch on Dylan's lap.

"Yeah, just bruised my dignity." Dylan said, helping Lura up then climbing to her feet and rubbing the seat of her pants.

"Well, let's go and meet the staff then we can settle in our room and I will take a closer look at that bruised dignity of yours." Lura promised adding a saucy wink and a helpful pat to Dylan's bruised bottom.

Dylan smiled and bent to retrieve the luggage.

"Leave it there Honey, if we have a staff then they can take it up from here." Lura said as she walked off in the direction that Mrs. McDougal had gone.

As they walked into the large open main hall, Dylan was rubbing her rear her eyes caught Mrs. McDougal slipping a folded bill to a smiling tall older man in a dark penguin suit, obviously the butler. She turned squinting eyes to the small woman Dylan asked in a tight voice.

"Okay lady, I got no idea what you are up to but let's get it out in the open now." In three long strides she placed herself between the Lura and the elderly couple. Her hands on her hips she stared down at the two grey hairs. "So, what's going on?"

Mrs. McDougal frowned up at the dark haired woman, her accomplice, for lack of a better word, stood tall as if at attention, he stared straight ahead, his eyes focused on a spot on the opposite wall.

Dylan walked up to the older man. "What is going on here? Why are you two exchanging money?" She asked her voice icy cold.

"Umm, sorry Miss, it's just that I won and she lost." The old man stammered his face flushing with embarrassment hearing the old woman chuckle.

Lura looked on frowning at the exchange.

"That's right what's going on?" Her eyes darting from the tiny housekeeper to the taller butler.

"They had a bet Lura, and apparently this, 'gentleman', won." Dylan said cold blue eyes staring down at the butler.

Lura watched the interplay between the two. Dylan was the taller and this forced the man to glance up to meet her eyes, which he did only once before returning his stare to a place on the wall behind the dark woman. It was apparent now to Lura that this man had once been in the military and his posture brought out all the Command in her war horse of a mate. Watching the two Lura could not help but smile. Mrs. McDougal finally broke the silence with a giggling laugh.

"Hah, it's good to see you get a bit of your own Mr." she added as her laughter died. "That's what you need, someone to put you in your place."

Now it was Dylan's turn to laugh. "Okay," she said, What kina wacky bet did you two make?"

Mrs. McDougal spoke up, "Well, the Mr. there and I bet that you weren't as tall as you looked on TV. I know that the American television makes folks look tall so I figured you had to be standing on something to make you so much taller than the President. After all, we heard that they made that cowboy look like a giant of a man and he wasn't very tall at all." She continued to ramble. "So I figured that the Captain was about the Mr.'s height. When ya got out of the little car I knew I had lost and he would be reminding me of it for the rest of my days." She said nodding at the now smiling butler.

"Well, I doubt he will want to remind you of this day, now will you soldier." Dylan stated glaring down at the no longer smiling butler.

"No Ma'am that I will not." He replied snapping to attention under the cold blue stare.

"Good man." Dylan nodded and turned to wink at the two giggling small women.

"Well since you have all met the Mr., I guess we can meet the rest of the staff now." Said the housekeeper, brushing a speck of imaginary dirt from her snowy white apron, this, they were to discover, was a habit she often employed to compose herself.

Mrs. McDougal led the two women down the short line of employee's, five additional staff members, from the butler, Mr. McDougal called the Mr. by his wife and commander Mrs. McDougal, to the upstairs and downstairs maids, three middle aged sister named, of all things, Faith, Hope and Charity Delaney. And last but certainly not least, to the driver and all around handy man, a short fiery red haired fellow with a wealth of beard and moustache and as far as Dylan could tell, no neck, Thomas Clarey, called Thomas or Mr.Clarey for short.

Introductions made the housekeeper ordered the maids to take the luggage upstairs and put the cloths away. She then led Lura and Dylan on a grand tour of the ancient home of the Clan.

"This manor home is one of the few remaining original Highland homes. The décor has not changed in hundreds of years, well except to modernize and the addition of the occasional drinking cup." The housekeeper added with a wicked grin.

"Well, the home is beautiful and I suppose I have you to thank for maintaining it so well." Lura stated her eyes roaming the grand hall its walls covered in ancient tapestries.

"There's the truth of it Miss." Mrs. McDougal added puffing her chest in pride. "There are few who would risk working here, much less living in the manor itself. Why even the Mr. and I live outside the main hall in the gardeners' cottage, as Mr. Thomas lives above the garage and seeing as he is a bachelor and all he had no need of it." She finished.

"What is it about the drinking cups Mrs. McDougal?" Dylan asked her curiosity piqued by the tiny woman's grin and the gleam of mischief in her eyes. Dylan really liked the little woman as a matter of fact she liked them all. She smiled thinking of Mr. McDougal's response to her direct, "CPT. Hawk" attitude, she had suspected he was prior service when she saw him standing at rigid attention in the housekeepers "inspection" line.

Mrs. McDougal continued her walking tour of the house but paused in the formal dining room.

"The cups, well, the cups are an old Highland war tradition." She stated. "Back in the days of the ancient clan leaders and the Highland wars, really they were more often cattle raids than all out war." She said with a smile "Well, when there were real squabbles that broke out between the clans and the lairds took up arms to war, some high-ranking kinsman of the feuding clan usually died before the war was over. More times as not it was the leader of the clan or one of his kin, usually killed by the leader of the other clan or his kin. Well, back in the bloody times, the winner sometime took the skull of the loser and had it covered in silver or gold and decorated with precious stones, these were used as drinking cups, though I wonder if they were ever used." She added in an almost sad voice. "These were taken by your kin Miss Lura." She said pointing towards the dark corner cabinet. "The doors were taken off and the panels replace by glass sometime before the first great World War. There are twenty cups on the shelves each one finer than the last." Mrs. McDougal said motioning Lura towards the cabinet. "Oh, that is just gross." Lura said, her morbid curiosity drawing her to the cabinet.

"Honey, you gotta see these." She turned to motion to Dylan, but the tall woman had moved away, towards the large windows that opened out on a beautiful garden.

"Your friend seems a bit squeamish, Miss." Mrs. McDougal commented. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, Dylan was a soldier in the Desert Wars. She still has memories that bother her. I suppose even the though of this type of thing would bother her." Lura said smiling sadly at her wife's back. Dylan still had issues with death and though the counseling helped, she still had the occasional nightmares and now the recent flashback had Lura a bit concerned.

"Well, I can certainly understand that Miss. If you would like I could ask Himself to empty the cabinet and we can use it for something else." Mrs. McDougal offered.

"No, that's won't be necessary Mrs. McDougal, I will just have to deal with it." Dylan said from her sunny spot by the window.

"Goodness but she does have keen ears." The house keeper whispered to a chuckling Lura.

"Yes, I do." Said Dylan turning to face the two surprised women, happy to see she still had the ability to startle her partner on occasion.

"Umm, very good Miss Dylan." The older woman said.

"What sort of modernization have you done, Mrs. McDougal, I haven't seen any real changes well except the empty moat and the light switches on the wall. How did they manage to install them with out destroying the beautiful walls or hanging ugly wire everywhere?" Lura asked.

"Well actually it was Mr. Thomas who figured out the best way to handle it. We could have torn out whole sections of the wall to install the electricity but instead Mr. Thomas had them cut out part of the old mortar used to hold the stones together in the walls. Then the wires were pressed into the grooves and filled with mortar again and painted to match the original walls. The only places that holes were cut were places that switches or fixtures were installed." She said rubbing one wall under a nearby light switch. "This was all done when your sweet departed aunt lived here with her lady wife." Mrs. McDougal added as she turned away, missing the stunned looks exchanged by the two Americans.

"I will show you both to your rooms now, I'm sure you must be tired now." She said heading toward the main stairs. The stair case was actually a flight of stones that came from the inside wall of a great tower. There was no outer railing and the narrow stones were worn in the center from centuries of climbers. There was a heavy dark wooden inner railing that was attached to the inside wall and provided some stability, but Dylan placed a protective hand on Lura's back just in case.

"Be very careful on the steps Miss, they are original to the house and are worn rather smooth in some places. Your aunt had planned on covering them with carpet but since they moved their rooms down stairs after her lady wife slipped on them a few years back, they never got around to it."

Reaching the top of the landing the housekeeper led the two down a semidark hall and towards a huge set of double doors. Reaching into the pocket of her apron she drew out a set of large keys. Sorting through them she reached one and slipped it into the lock on one door. Turning the knob, she entered the room and flicked on the switch. Lura was stunned at what she saw. It was as if she had stepped back in time.

The room was huge, a main sitting area on one side with a room that was obviously a bed room on the other. The sitting room had a large fireplace against one wall with two heavy carved wood and leather armchairs in front of it, each chair with a matching foot rest pressed against the legs. A large black fur rug covered the floor in front of the chairs and a beautiful matching table rested between the chairs. Along the length of wall on either side of the fire place were shelves from floor to ceiling. Matching rolling ladders were attached to a heavy brass rail near the ceiling, allowing the ladders to be easily moved along the wall to any book on any shelf.

The bedroom was a work of ancient Scottish art. The walls were covered in brightly colored antique tapestries; the thin windows had been widened and closed off with beautiful cut lead glass, the sunlight pouring through causing rainbows to dance across the floor.

On one side of the room was a second fireplace, this one tamed by an ornate brass fire guard. A second fur rug, this one a reddish color, lay in front of the fireplace. On the other side of the room was a beautiful delicate vanity with a matching bench and tall chest of drawers. Against the wall beside the bed was a large wardrobe with folding doors. The bed had apparently been made for the house; the headboard bore the distinctive crest of the Cameron Clan below the roaring head of a great wooden lion. Beside the bed on either side were marble topped nightstands, sporting more modern table lamps as well as flowers on one table and a large bowl of fruit on the other. The entire effect was opulent and though the furniture was heavy the light tapestries and the cut glass windows brought some relief.

Lura grinned at Dylan as they turned from the room back to Mrs. McDougal. "We'll take it." They said in unison, breaking out in laughter as the housekeeper who simple rolled her eyes at the two.

Chapter 20

Lura sorted through their toiletries as Dylan, dressed in her Army work out shirt and shorts, lay back on the huge master bed, the large bowl of fresh fruit next to her. She nibbled on a grape as she watched Lura fill the top of an antique vanity with lotions, their combs and brushes and Lura's favorite fragrance, 'Gravity', the smell of which always drove Dylan nuts.

"So what do you think of the house honey?" Lura asked;

her mind was on other things as she unconsciously spayed the fragrance into the air and inhaled the scent.

Dylan's ears perked when she heard the sound of the dispenser, her nostrils twitched when the caught the scent. Carefully she separated a large grape from the bowl as she took in several whiffs of the air around her. Peeling the grape she rolled onto her stomach and slowly crawls to the end of the bed. "What do I think of the house? Nice, but the owner is the only thing I'm interested in right now." She whispered in a husky voice.

"What was that Dylan? Did you...? Lura glanced up at her wife's reflection in the mirror just as Dylan reached the edge of the bed.

Sliding her legs over the side Dylan stood and silently padded over to Lura. "I think this room needs a bit of home style charm don't you my love?" She asked feeding the grape to Lura.

Lura could only nod and slowly chewed the sweet fruit.

Dylan reached down and holding out her hand helped her wife to her feet. She moved back to the bed and turned Lura to face her. Slowly she lifted Lura's shirt over her head, soft blond hair ruffled as the collar slipped away. Tossing the shirt aside, Dylan cupped Lura's face and lifted her chin. Lowering her head her lips touched the soft waiting lips of her partner.

Lura moaned as she felt the warmth of Dylan's hands sliding from her hair to her back, a quick twist of her wrist and the lacy white bra was free. Goose bumps sprang up as those long slender finger traveled up her arm and back down, taking her bra with them.

Dylan pulled the warm body to her as she leaned forward slowly forced Lura back onto the bed. She felt the blonds nipples harden against her palms as her searching fingers gently cupped a creamy breast. Pulling away she stood up, her eyes never loosing contact as she removed her own shirt. The shirt was quickly followed by the bra as she watched Lura's eyes first glaze then focus on her breasts.

The tip of a pink tongue wet coral lips as Lura saw her wife's half naked form and felt her mouth suddenly go dry.

"I want you Dylan, I need you now." She whispered her eyes now traveling up to the beautiful face and a pair of burning blue eyes.

"This is your home, my love. I am the guest here. That means I am the one who requests entertainment, and you my love provide it."

Dylan knelt in front of Lura and slowly pulled off her shoes and sock. Her hand carefully rubbed the bottoms of Lura's feet caressing a small heel and slipping between delicate toes.

"I would hate to be though of as a poor hostess." Lura said sitting up and unbuttoning her jeans. Wiggling her hips she slowly slipped them down her legs and onto the floor.

Dylan noticed a damp spot on the crotch of Lura's silk underwear, her lips curled into a smile as she leaned and let her tongue slip along the warm wetness there. Savoring the taste of her wife an unconscious hum crept from her throat as she pulled the panties off and lifted the creamy legs over her shoulders. Kneeling more upright she forced Lura back onto the bed, her hands crept up to part the treasure she found between the silky thighs.

Lura lifted her hips offering herself to her wife, eager to feel the lips close around her swollen clit. As she felt the first flicker of a tongue her hips bucked unconsciously and her ankles locked behind a dark head holding her lover in place.

Dylan reached out her hands finding purchase on two round hard tipped breasts, her fingers and thumbs rolling the taunt nipples as her mouth sucked on a wet pulsing clit.

Lura felt the heat radiate from her crotch to the tips of her hair. She reached down her hands buried in the covers as she fought to hold on, to prolong the feeling. She lost her battle when two long hard fingers plunged into her center pumping in and out and throwing her over the edge. A guttural moan escaped her lips as she came in crashing waves of pleasure.

Chapter 21

Later that evening following a hot soak in a warm tub, the two women sat in bed snacking on sandwiches provided by Mrs. McDougal. Dylan had a set a small fire to warm the room and had crawled, naked into bed. Lura sat next to her dressed in a soft grey Army t-shirt, her legs crossed under the covers reading her letter from the attorneys. The light from the table lamps and the fire lent a warm soft glow to the room.

"I suppose I could call them in the morning and see when they would like to meet with us. There are probably all sorts of forms to sign and stuff. Do you think Mrs. McDougal know these men?" She asked Dylan, her eyes still focused on the papers. When no response was forthcoming she turned to check on her partner. "Honey, did you hear me? Dylan?"

Dylan had her mind and eyes focused on a small leather bound brown book. Her eyes squinting as she tried to decipher the tiny handwriting.

"What are you reading sweetheart?" Lura asked.

"A journal, I found it in the mouth of the Lion while you were in taking a bath." Dylan said.

"From the where? Dylan, what in the devil made you look into the lion's mouth? No, forget I asked that." She said shaking her head. "Exactly whose journal is it Honey"

"Apparently some lady named Eve Cameron. She lived here with her husband and son in the early nineteen hundreds. I was trying to decipher her hand writing but it is so small it is hard to make out." Dylan said.

"Dylan if there is one thing you are good at it is making out." Lura laughed seeing the smug smile on her partners face. "Gimme that. You are the soldier in this dynamic duo, I am the writer." She held out her hand for the journal anxious to glance over it.

She read silently for a few minutes, her eyes rapidly scanning the text. At one point she laughed out loud at another she sighed with sadness. Dylan watched it all with tolerance and patience until finally she could stand it no more.

"Okay your writer you, what does it say? I know you like torturing me but if you don't fill me in soon I will be forced to seek solace elsewhere." She threatened crossing her arms and staring at Lura with a perfect pout on her lips.

"Alright ya big baby, hang on a minute, let me go back to the beginning." Lura said smiling patiently at the cute face her partner was making. "Humm, this is really interesting, it seems that Eve was the wife of the Laird Cameron. He was something of a gigolo that enjoyed spending money and playing the field. He left his wife to handle all the estate duties and apparently she was the big decision maker in the home. That is kinda unusual for the time but based on the personality that comes through in the journal, she was definitely up to it." Lura said, her eyes returning to scan the pages again. "He joined the royal forces during the First World War, he got himself killed in one of the battles of Verdun. Lady Eve decided to pack up her son and shipped him to America where she felt he would be safe. That is how my side of the family arrived in the US."

She stopped here and glanced over to Dylan.

"Ya know I can remember my Grandmother telling me stories of her father and how he was some high muckety muck in Scotland but you know how kids are, it all went in one ear and out the other." She sighed. "Anyway, here is the interesting part, after her husband was killed she had to find a way to keep the estate running with all the stuff happening with the war and all she was in a bad situation. The government wanted to pay a pension to her but money was short because of the war, so she opened up a hospital. No, that isn't quite it, more like an aid station, her first patient was a soldier named Reb Childress." She stopped here, reading on silently her eyes, flashing across the words, growing larger as she went along. "Oh my, oh my, you are not going to believe this." Lura said aloud.

"What? I'm not going to believe what?" Dylan asked with as much patience as she could spare.

"Well, it seems Reb was short for Rebecca. She was a woman disguised as a young man. She was wounded in battle and they discovered the truth about her. She was sent here to heal because they couldn't keep her with the men. Eve seems to have taken a very disturbing liking to the soldier. They fell in love and according to this they planned to keep the hospital open and run it together." She looked at the next page smiling as she read, turning the page she frowned and glanced up at Dylan. "That's it, it just stops."

"What do you mean it just stops?" Dylan asked curiously.

"The journal, it just stops there. There isn't anything else." She turned the book around showing her partner the blank pages. "I wonder what happened. They seemed to be getting along so well, why did Eve stop writing?" Lura asked, not really expecting a response, her hands turning back the worn pages to see if she had somehow missed something finding no clues, she handed the journal to Dylan.

Flipping the pages back and forth she noticed that they the book always stopped at the end of the written page. She stood and walked over to a lamp at the bedside. Holding the book up close to the light she bent the covers back and studied the inside crease. "That is weird, some of the pages are missing. I wonder what happened to them."

"I don't know, but I bet I know who can tell us." Lura said reaching over to dim the lights on her night table, she took the bowl from Dylan and set it gently on the marble top. She then turned to the open her arms of her partners and curled up in the warm embrace.

"Let me guess." Dylan said smiling down as her strong arms closed around her wife and the slender hands began to rub a gentle circle on Lura's back. "Our favorite housekeeper, Mrs. McDougal."

"Yep, got it in one try." Lura smiled. "If anyone knows how the story ends, it would be Sergeant Major McDougal." Dylan chuckled, picturing the tiny grey haired woman in combat uniform and Army boots. Nope, not hard to imagine at all. She grinned.

"Well, we can ask her tomorrow, if she doesn't know maybe the attorneys do, they may have some information for us, after all they have handled all my Great Aunt's affairs. Maybe they have some answers." She mumbled from her position muzzled deep in Dylan's bosom.

"Yep, probably. We will find out everything tomorrow." Dylan said snuggling into fragrant blond hair and drifting off to sleep.

Lura opened her eyes, the room was dark and cold. She reached over for Dylan but no one was there. It was so dark. Fumbling around she felt for the covers but they were gone. At least she wasn't in her night shirt any longer, she felt the long sleeves of a thick shirt. The material felt soft and thick to her fingers. She curled her legs up under her and tried to stand, she ached all over, and she was so very cold. Looking around she tried to see where she was, somehow she had been moved from her room and Dylan was missing.

She looked around and discovered a small window high up on a wall, it was covered on the inside with dirt and apparently something had been allowed to grow up and cover the window from the outside. Some light was creeping in from the night moon and she could see that she was in some sort of storage room. Locating a door she moved towards it, stumbling over the remains of a wooden box, the sound of metal striking metal seemed loud to her ears as she kicked some of the boxes content aside. Finally reaching the door she wanted to pound on it but the sight of her hands stopped her. She began screaming; her flesh was in tatters, each slender finger now nothing more than so much exposed bone. Turning she held her hand up to the dim moonlight. Her terror increased as she saw that her hands were not the only thing missing flesh. She closed her eyes to block out the site and opened her mouth once more to scream when suddenly it was all gone. She was back in her bed, twisted in the sheets. The room was brighter, lit by Dylan's night stand light. Her worried mate was calling her name, with a shudder she threw herself into Dylan's arms.

Chapter 22

Dylan woke early the next morning and lay in bed staring at her mate. Lura had been so excited about this entire trip and today they were to meet with the lawyers for the estate and sign all the documentation to take possession. Dylan had tried to be more realistic about the entire thing. She had spent hours trying to determine the best way for the estate to support itself. She knew that they would only use the estate occasionally and in the mean time there was the need to maintain it. When Lura's Great Aunt held the property it had been maintained through funds set aside by her family, but since she had been the last of the Cameron in that portion of the family line, the funds disappeared when she crossed over.

Cameron Hall was much larger than the women had anticipated and the maintenance required to keep the estate in proper condition would place a huge strain on their finances. This problem had been one of the topics she planned to discuss with Lura before they met the estate lawyers today, but the nightmare had taken a lot out of them both and she opted for the extra few hours of sleep rather that an early morning filled with stressful decisions. They would sign the documents and schedule a time to meet with the lawyers again to figure out a plan of action to try to make the estate more self sufficient.

Dylan, still anxious after Lura's disturbing night, kept a close eye on her wife. Lura had told her in detail all about the nightmare. The idea of being locked in a dark enclosed space had made the soldier shudder as memories of another dark space flashed through her mind. She was not sure what had brought on such vivid dreams, she knew that, for the most part, dreams were based on recollections from experiences, or things a person witnessed or read. She couldn't imagine Lura having been confined as a young child; her parents were both doting and protective of her partner. To the best of her knowledge Lura never experienced anything like that since they had married and she knew that as long as she had breath in her body she never would.

It had taken Dylan hours to calm the blond. She finally resorted to holding her close and singing her to sleep with the same lullaby she had sung that first night in the caves. The rest of the night had been spent tossing and turning, with Lura waking several times during the night to reach out to Dylan, reassuring herself that the soldier was still there, beside her and that she was not locked away in a cold, dark room.

Dylan finally crawled got out of bed and padded naked to the bathroom, a quick few strokes with the hairbrush put the long blue black strands in order. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and she was ready for the day. Tiptoeing quietly back into the bedroom she stopped to look at Lura, the only visible sign Dylan could see remaining from the stressful night were the dark circles under Lura's closed eyes. Quietly she retraced her steps to the wardrobe and bent to open the top drawer and retrieve her briefs.

"Humm, if I had known I would wake to such a nice view, I would have opened my eyes sooner." Lura mumbled from behind her.

"Well thank you, now will you please drag your cute little blond butt out of bed so we can go have breakfast, I'm starving." Dylan said slipping her legs into her underwear and snatching up a bra.

Turning around she was please to see the blond slip from the covers and head toward the bathroom. A yawn, a sleepy grin and a wave let her know that Lura was reasonably conscious.

Pulling the comb through her hair Lura washed her face and slipped out of her night shirt. Hanging it on the doorknob she walked from the bathroom to join her partner.

"Well now, maybe we can have breakfast later on, I'm not so hungry any more, well at least not for food." Dylan grinned wickedly at her partner pleased to see the rosie pink blush creep into Lura's cheeks.

"Hey, eyes front woman." Lura said, "I'm hungry myself, but I'll give you a rain check on that other hunger for later." She smiled, reaching for her cloths.

"Done! Now let's go eat, we have some lawyers to harass and I hate facing attorneys on an empty stomach." Dylan said tying her trainers and picking up her wallet from the dresser.

Dressed the two women headed down to breakfast. Dylan held onto Lura's hand. Carefully not to let her wife tumble down the stairs, she was a bit leery of the height and lack of railing. When they reached the large dining room and saw that Mrs. McDougal had set the table for two. Beautiful china and crystal glittered on white linen cloth and intriguing smells wafted from the area of the kitchen.

"I am starving; I hope they have lots of eggs and bacon. I could eat the chicken, without the eggs, feathers and all. Amazing how having the wits scared out of you can give you an appetite." She joked, very aware of Dylan's worry.

"Yeah well, I need some Micky D's, I could go for a Big Mac, super sized with a double order of fries." Dylan grumbled pulling out a chair for Lura.

"Honey remind me to have the guys at the VA check your cholesterol when we get home. You should own stock in that company by now." Lura chuckled sliding into her seat and picking up a crisp white napkin.

The two women had just become comfortable when Mrs. McDougal rolled out a trolley with a large silver platter on it. She rolled towards Lura chatting the whole way.

"Good morning Ms. Lura, did you two sleep well? I heard a bit of commotion last night and I was concerned about you two." She rambled on. "All that screaming, nearly sent the sisters out of here with there tails tucked."

"Oh, well, I am sorry about that Mrs. McDougal." Lura commented. "I had a horrible night mare last night and I guess I got a bit loud." Lura said flushing.

"Oh no Miss, I meant earlier in the evening, just before I brought up the sandwiches. But since you two seemed to be hale and healthy I just figured it was the ghosts." She said ignoring the snorting laughter of the dark woman and the scarlet blush of the blond.

As things calmed down Mrs. McDougal lifted the lid on the silver platter as both women leaned forward, hungry anticipation on their faces. The stunned expression on their faces would have been humorous had the circumstances been different. There in the center of the beautiful silver platter was the largest serving of Haggis they had seen to date.

Dylan recovered first, wiping her mouth with her napkin and standing to help Lura with her chair.

"I'm very sorry Mrs. McDougal but I just realized we are running late for our appointment with the lawyers, it looks like we are going to have to pass on breakfast."

Five minutes later the two women were back in the little blue mini, streaking towards town and the McDonalds.

The music was softly playing through the speakers; Lura was humming along to the tunes. She did not know the words but she hummed well, and Dylan nodded along her eyes scanning the road ahead.

As the cruised along the narrow one lane road through the forest Dylan noticed that, once again, fog had begun to creep in. Like the day before a low lying film of fog rolled along the ground in the path of the small car. The deeper they went into the forest the heavier the fog grew. Dylan finally slowed the car to a crawl as the heavy trees closed overhead making the visibility even worse.

The music began to fade as the radio crackled with static; Lura reached forward and turned off the sound.

"Damn, every time we come into this forest we lose the station; it must be in a dead zone or something." Lura commented.

"Well, that's okay honey, the fog is so thick here I really need to concentrate, I don't want to hit..."

Dylan stomped on the brake turning the car sharply to the left, it skidded sideways for a second then shuddered to a stop.

"Lura are you okay?" She asked turning off the car and quickly unbuckling her seat belt.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine Mario. What did you do that for?" Lura asked her heart finally settling back into place.

"Didn't you see it?" Dylan asked jerking at the door handle and climbing quickly from the car.

"See what? Dylan? Dylan..." Lura began, but stopped when she realized her partner was no longer in the car. Dylan had trotted back to the center of the road and was standing there spinning around. Lura watched as the tall woman crouched checking the ground then looking off into the forest. As she watched the Dylan stood again, her eyes tracking something on the ground. She seemed to spot something at the edge of the woods and trotted off into the tree line. Lura saw Dylan's broad shoulders turn to pass a large bush then she simply disappeared.

Chapter 23

"Dylan!" Lura sprang from the car and headed towards the spot she had last seen Dylan, but the fog suddenly rolled in even thicker and she returned to the car to hunt for a light.

Dylan had spotted tracks but they were not at all what she expected. When she had entered the woods a feeling of apprehension had hit her like a cold rag in the face. The loss of the radio station had caused red flags to come up and the fog had not really been a surprise. Dylan knew something strange was happening, she just didn't have a clue what it was. When she had crested a small incline in the road she had not really been surprised to see something lying in the middle of her lane. What had surprised her was what it had appeared to be. She could have sworn what she had seen was a body, not just a body but one in uniform.

When she had left Lura in the car, she had braced herself to face the possibility of seeing another dead soldier, but when she got out of the car there had been nothing there.

Dylan had not had a single flashback in months now. Maybe it was the stress of the trip or perhaps the fact that she was tired. She trotted to the road and bent to check the ground where she was sure the body had been, but there was nothing there, nothing except foot prints, the wrong kind of footprints.

Dylan bent closer, she had to be mistaken, she was sure she was mistaken. The prints were large, with four toe pads and a single center pad; four claw marks topped each toe print, wolf tracks. She bent closer to examine the prints, perhaps she was wrong, maybe it was just a large dog that had collapsed in the road or had gotten hit by a car. She glanced up in the direction the tracks were heading, her eyes following the tracks straight into the wood line. She stood and followed the trail, the fog stopped at the woods edge but the prints continued. She tried to see where they led as she strained to see through the dark forest and beyond. A sudden movement caught her attention and she stepped deeper into the forest, off to the right she though she saw a grey shadow, she followed.

Dylan was pretty sure that there were no wolves in Scotland or anywhere in the British Isles for that matter. Like the big cats and snakes, wolves had been exterminated in England, Scotland and Wales. But she had heard of big cat sightings in England so maybe she was wrong, maybe it had been a large cat, 'A really, really large cat.' She thought as she continued into the forest.

The trees seemed to close behind her as she followed the shadowy figure ahead, the fog had begun to creep in again and she felt as if she were being led along a pre chosen path. As she walked she felt the ground change beneath her feet. At first it had been soft with the decay of dead leaves but now the ground was firmer, as if no leaves at all were covering the earth. She glanced down and noticed that the fog had rolled in beneath her, perhaps it was time to turn back. She started to turn when she sat it, the wolf, a large grey wolf. She stared into the golden eyes as if trying to assure herself that this was no hallucination, but the eyes seemed to change from gold to green. Suddenly there was a flash of bright light, it blinded her for a second and she threw up her hand to ward off the glare. The light softened and she lowered her hand to see if she would be able to see the wolf in the brighter light but what met her eyes was unreal.

In front of her was the road, but not the road she had been on only moments ago, a road that was bright and sunlit, with tall evergreen trees and shards of golden sunlight streaking to the ground. As she looked a young red haired woman approached her, she was dressed in slacks, tan with a matching shirt, it looked like a uniform, the same uniform she had seen on the body in the road. Dylan watched as the movement of others caught her eye, there were men hiding in the forest other soldiers, soldiers in dark grey. The woman was smiling, she seemed happy as if she had a wonderful secret that she was thinking of. She limped and used a cane to assist her, but her step was light, happy. Dylan wanted to call out to her and warn her. The men were hiding in the forest, under the leaves and behind the trees, as she watched they sprang from their hiding places and attacked the tan clad soldier. She strained against unseen bindings, trying to help the redhead. The men fought her trying to subdue her, but she fought like her life depended on it. Dylan wasn't sure why the woman fought so hard, but she admired her tenacity.

As she watched the struggle she saw the inevitable, the red haired woman would lose, the question was how badly. Dylan stained harder against the invisible bonds, and even as she struggled the soldier fell. She had heard the crack as a heavy tree limb was brought down on the woman's neck. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched the stunned faces of the men in grey. They had not known that they had been fighting a woman, the boy at the edge of the group ran off into the woods and Dylan imagined he was losing his lunch over the killing.

As she watched the strange men quickly dug a shallow grave and buried the body, covering the face with a white handkerchief before they quickly shoveled dirt and leaves over the remains. Then they faded into the forest and disappeared from her sight.

Dylan glanced around trying to find the men, they were gone, as was the grave site. Had it all been a dream? She stumbled backward away from the clearing. She had to leave. She felt her body begin to tremble, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead and top lip. She reached up to wipe it away and felt her hand tremble. Her eyes darted around trying to find something, anything familiar, or alive, but there was nothing, nothing except...a large grey wolf.

"Who are you, why are you doing this?" Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears.

The wolf lowered it head, its nose pointed towards her as it approached. It was large, a grey female, the light creeping between the trees made her coat glow a strange silver color.

Dylan knew she should be afraid, but she wasn't, she knew this animal. She reached out her hand and was relieved to feel the rough warm texture of the wolf's coat beneath her fingers. She knelt, closed her eyes and hugged the large animal to her breast, inhaling the strong scent of wolf and pine. She felt her heart settle and it seemed as if her world was right again.

Leaning back she stared into the golden eyes, "I think I remember you. The last time we met I was having a hard time. You came to me then too. Why is it I think this time you are here because of someone else."

Dylan did not actually expect and answer as she continued to stroke the coarse hair. Enjoying the feeling of the fur beneath her finger tips she allowed her hand to creep behind an alert ear to scratch that one sweet spot all canines seemed to have. She smiled as she watched the wolf's eyes close in apparent ecstasy as it leaned harder into Dylan's scratching fingers. A few more minutes and she stepped back, shaking her body all over as if to shake off a trance. Then she pressed her large head against Dylan's legs urging her to her feet.

"Time to go huh?" Dylan commented staring down at her friend. "Yeah, Lura is probably freaking out by now wondering where I've been. We better get back before she hot tails it home and calls the Calvary."

Dylan turned and began making her way back through the woods. She glanced back over her shoulder towards the clearing one last time, but it was gone, so was her furry friend. 'Well I'm not really surprised; she did what she was here to do. I guess the rest is up to me to figure out.' She thought.

"I really don't think Lura is gonna like this, nope. The question now is how in the devil am I gonna explain it to her." She stumbled back through the overgrowth trying to think up a logical lead into what happened when suddenly she was there, the road was right in front of her and Lura was in the Mini, a large flash light in her hand.

One minute her wife was gone and the next she was standing right there, staring at her. What the devil was going on Lura thought. 'I know I am not losing my mind.' "Well, at least I hope I'm not." She said aloud.

"What was that honey?" Dylan asked as she stepped up to the car.

"Nothing Dylan, I didn't say anything. Nope, not a word." Lura said, twisting around to sit in her seat. She buckled on the belt as Dylan climbed in on the driver's side. "Let's get out of here and get some food. I think I might be a bit too hungry." Lura said reaching up to feel her forehead sure she must be running a fever.

'I know she was gone, I saw her disappear. Poof, gone with the wind.' "I know what I saw...I did see it, yeah, I did." She kept mumbling over and over, unaware of the curious looks she was getting from her partner.

Dylan turned back to look at the road ahead. This was going to be a long day, 'Yep a really long day.' She thought looking into the rear view mirror. As they left the forest she saw it, a wolf was standing at the top of the incline, its golden eyes staring into hers.

Chapter 24

Lura was beginning to feel like her old self again, she would hate to admit it to Dylan, but the taste of regular good ole McDonald French fries was wonderful. She felt grounded again, normal, 'Or as normal as one can feel when one is married to a War Hero'. She thought, squeezing Dylan's hand.

Having reached the town with no further problems, Dylan and Lura had been enjoyed a nice quiet meal in the McDonalds when of the local boys recognized Dylan. Though she was sure that it would have been much noisier in states, the young people who flocked around the soldier were just as excited to speak to the woman who was internationally know as the Desert Hawk.

Lura watched as the young men hung on Dylan's every word, smiling like Cheshire cats obviously thunderstruck whenever she turned those electric blue eyes in their direction. The young women, apparently girl friends or love interests of the enamored boys were torn between aggravations over the loss of attention and somewhat appeased when they learned she was married.

'Not just married,' Lura thought, 'married to a woman. She played for the other team.

At first the girls thought this was a good thing, then they realized that their men folk could really care less. They were thunderstruck by both the women and neither they nor the men were paying them any attention. This resulted in the women gathering in one corner of the eatery and conspiring to regain the attention of their male admirers. Lura watched them in the corner, chatting away in a little hen party.

'Not much different than watching a women's football game. The quarterback is in the huddle, his linemen peek up every once in a while to check on the other team. Then BREAK!' And they did the women all together simply stood up and stalked from the restaurant. It took a few minutes but the young men to notice the absence of their girl friends but after promises from Dylan to return, they rushed from the building apologies, like their feet, stumbling and falling from their lips.

Lura laughed as she watched the young men trotting off behind their irritated girlfriends. She turned to Dylan and noticed the twinkle in her eye.

"You knew that was going to happen didn't you?" she asked.

The brunette simply picked up a fry and cut it in two between pearly white teeth. She shrugged her shoulders and watched as the couples disappeared down the lane. "Well, I kinda had a bet going with myself." She said chewing up the tasty fry.

"What kind of bet?" Lura asked

"Well the 'what's gonna happen first' kinda bet." She said grinning now at her partner.

"What do ya mean Dylan?" She asked her eyes squinting as she watched the wicked grin appear on Dylan's lips.

"Well, since you asked, I was wondering how long I could flirt with them before either their girlfriends got really pissed or you hit me." She said popping another fry into her mouth.

"Well, guess what kiddo, you win both." Lura said punching Dylan in the shoulder just as she lifted another fry.

"Hey, watch it, you almost caused a major disaster here. I would have been forced to go and buy another whole bag of fries just to console myself at the loss of that one." She said smiling as she chewed up the fry.

Lura smiled and punched her again.

"Hey, what was that for?" Dylan asked rubbing her shoulder.

"That was for flirting my love." Lura smiled sweetly as she stood up. "Come on we have to get to the meeting with the attorney." Lura said turning to head for the door.

"Why, it's too late for a prenuptial agreement about punching. Hey, ya think he can file assault charges for me." She asked with a puppy dog look.

"Oh quite yer whining' and come on." Lura grabbed Dylan by the shoulder and headed towards the door.

Having received directions to that lawyers office from the housekeeper, the two women had parked the small car on the street in front of the building. A large green tinted brass sign read Kimbre and Kimbre Barristers for the crown.

"This looks promising." Dylan commented stepping from the car. "It would appear that your late Great Aunt's attorneys are an old an established firm."

"Yeah, probably a bunch of old farts sitting around in leather chairs sipping on Scotch and smoking pipes." Lura said her mind focused on old Sherlock Holmes movies she had seen.

Dylan shrugged her shoulders and held the door as Lura stepped into the building.

The interior was bright with one way lined glass windows and beautiful wood and marble décor. In the center of the foyer was a large wooden desk, a young man sat behind it working on something on a very modern slim line liquid screen computer. He paused in his typing as the two women approached.

"Good day ladies, may I help you?" he asked in lightly accented English.

"Well, yes, we have an appointment with Attorney Kimbre." Lura said, smiling at the nice young man.

Which Kimbre Miss?" He asked clicking away at the keyboard.

"That would be C. Kimbre." She replied.

He tapped on a few more keys read what appeared on the screen then smiled. "Oh yes, the Cameron Estate, that would be Clair Kimbre. Down the hall to the second door." He said smiling at the two women.

Lura thanked the man and headed toward the hall, Dylan nodded her thanks and followed.

"Old fart huh? They are never old farts. The old farts are retired and have left the business to the young and nonsmoking." Dylan whispered in Lura's ear.

"Oh hush, you never know, she may be an old female fart." Lura said as she opened the door.

"No that would be my mother, she and Da opened the business thirty years ago. She is retired now; hello I am the young fart Clair Kimbre. You must be Lura Hawke." An attractive strawberry blond walked from behind a crystal clear desk and reached for Lura's hand.

Dylan could not help herself; she burst out laughing at her blushing mate.

The two blonds shook hands and turned to watch Dylan wiping tears from her eyes as she tried to control her laughter.

"Never mind dear, I have gotten use to it. Please have a seat." Clair motioned Lura towards a black leather chair in front of the desk, Dylan collapsed into the other chair finally catching her breath.

"Well, now that we are all relaxed shall we get the papers signed?" Clair asked her light grey eyes turned towards Dylan.

Smiling Dylan held out her hand. "Hello, please, I have to apologize I had not intended to laugh but you just startled me so. I am Lura's partner, Dylan Hawke."

The two women shook hands, Dylan was pleasantly surprised by the attorneys grip. She had always hated shaking hands with women who had no clue that holding a limp hand was tantamount to holding a dead fish and it was among the top ten things that pissed the soldier off.

"Nice handshake." Clair said, "Good and honest, Lura you did well, your Great Aunt would have been proud."

"Yes, it took me a while to find her but I think I did well." Lura agreed smiling now at Clair and noticing the light blush on her wife's cheeks.

"Your Great Aunt was a wonderful woman, my Great Aunt loved her dearly." Clair commented, releasing Dylan's hand and opening a folder on her desk totally unaware of the stares of the two American's.

"Umm your Great Aunt knew my Aunt Maddie?" Lura asked confused.

"Why yes, they were lovers and partners. Had been for years. I think Aunt Lizabeth's death is what killed your aunt. She was just lost without her." Clair said sadly.

Lura reached out and took Dylan's hand. "I understand, I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to my Dylan." She said turning to stare into loving blue eyes.

"No worries there love, I have no intention of going anywhere anytime soon." Dylan responded squeezing the small hand in hers.

"Well they are probably together now, cooking up some sort of mischief together. Those two were always up to something; they were the firm's biggest clients. Just keeping those two out of the lock up was a major task; I think that is what put me through school." Clair laughed.

Lura and Dylan smiled happy to have left such a depressing topic.

"Well, what say we get these papers signed so you two can get home." Clair said, passing the first of several pages to Lura. "This is the most unusual clause in your Great Aunts will. It states that not only must you live in the house at least one month out of every year, but you must make every effort to solve the mystery of the death of Lady Eve Cameron. Apparently your Great Aunt was intrigued by Lady Cameron's disappearance. Clair continued to pass over papers. "I have never actually seen any there, but then I have never been in the Manor. Personally, I would have though you would be more concerned with the clause about staying in the house for a month each year. I mean, if you miss one year you lose the house, the adjacent houses and all the land." Clair stated

"Yes, well exactly how much land are we talking about Clair?" Dylan asked.

"At one time it was a rather large estate, but now it is only the manor, the housekeepers' house and about 60 acres of land. Umm, that includes the small forest that leads to the estate. I understand that the trees there are quite old and valuable. I know that is one of the few standing forests its age in this area." Clair added off handedly.

Dylan turned and stared at Lura. "Well at least we know now." She smiled.

"Clair, have did you ever hear my Aunt speak about an old journal?" Lura asked as she scrawled her name across the first paper.

"No, I know she has loads of old books, I mean she does have a library at the house. I'm sure that if there is a journal it would probably be in the library." Clair said passing over another page for Lura to sign.

Almost half an hour later the three women were finally done, all the papers were signed and they were waiting for the final copies for their files.

Clair stood and offered tea to her guests.

"No thanks Clair, we just ate before we got here." Lura said.

"Yes, we had lunch at the McDonalds. I have to tell you I have no idea what is in haggis but why is it the main course for every meal?" Lura asked smiling when Clair broke out into laughter.

"Oh, my god I hate haggis." Clair said once she caught her breath. "That is by far the most disgusting thing to come out of the Highlands. I would rather spend the night in Cameron Hall with all its ghosts than eat Haggis." She chuckled.

"What was that Clair?" Dylan asked suddenly not smiling any longer.

Clair noticed the change in the atmosphere at once. She looked up from her desk and straight into the eyes of the Hawke. "I had thought your aunt had told you." She commented looking confused. "You did say you spent the night there last night, so I assumed you had met them."

"Wait a minute Clair back up, who are you talking about." Lura asked.

"Well, the ghosts, all the ghosts of Cameron Hall. You do know the Hall is haunted don't you?"

Chapter 25

"Your Aunt Maddie did tell you the story right?" She asked a look of confusion clouding her grey eyes. She stared back and forth between the small blond and the very tall, very unhappy, brunet. "Her intrigue with Lady Cameron's disappearance was almost an obsession. It could be that she was in communication with her ghost." Clair laughed.

The two Americans turned to look at each other in confusion. "Excuse me Clair but earlier you said ghosts as in more than one?" Lura asked.

"Yes, every old house in the highlands is reputed to have ghosts. Cameron hall has always been surrounded by mystery, ever since Lady Cameron went missing."

"We heard it was haunted but it seemed alright last night. I know Aunt Maddie didn't mention ghosts in any of the paper work we signed or anything we got at home." Lura said. "Nope nothing about ghosts, our papers read you have inherited Cameron Hall, nothing there about ghosts. We figured there would be maybe one there, I mean it is an old manor and all, but no one said anything about ghosts. Dylan do you remember anything in the letter we got mentioning multiple ghosts?" She turned to her partner.

"No," Dylan sighed but I think that may explain some of the strange things that happened earlier. "Ms. Kimbre, would you mind explaining to us exactly what, or should I say whom Lura has inherited." Dylan said, her voice had lowered and no longer held the warm happy tint it had earlier. Clair Kimbre was stunned at the change. She literally felt the air grow colder and staring into those daunting blue eyes, she knew she was now in the chilling presence of the Hawke.

"I had heard you were a formidable woman Ms. Hawke, so when I got the message that you would be arriving with Ms. Laura and that you would both be staying at Cameron Hall I simply assumed that you were aware of the ghosts." Claire said.

"No, so far all we know about Cameron Hall is what we have read on line and gleaned from Lura's father." Dylan said still very concerned about the possibility of a threat to Lura's safety.

"Okay, I'm really sorry I though you were both told about Cameron Hall by Maddie or Lizabeth." Claire said fumbling through the papers searching for something. Finally she pulled out a thick sheet of yellow paper and passed it to Lura. It was a photograph.

"That is a picture of the woman most people believe haunts Cameron Hall. Lady Eve Cameron." Clair said

Lura looked down into the face of a beautiful young dark haired woman. She was wearing a long dress that appeared to be and evening gown and was standing next to a smiling man in a military uniform. They both seemed very happy, smiling into the camera.

"Why would she haunt the hall?" Lura asked, passing the picture Dylan who stared at it for a few minutes then passed it back to Claire. "Did she die a violent death or leave some unfinished business about?"

"I suppose she was happily married to Lord Cameron for a while. They had a young boy, your Great, great and so on Grandfather." Claire said

"So what happened? Why would she be haunting the house." Dylan asked.

. "Well, her husband was killed in combat in the war and she was left with a huge estate and a small boy to raise. We don't really know much after that. I know that she was going to modify the hall and make it into a hospital; she had even taken in an injured soldier. People here believe that either she is morning her husband or she is looking for something. What? We have no idea." Clair said shaking her head as she stared down at the picture.

"Well, if she had plans on a hospital she must have gotten over the death of her husband. Did she ever get the hospital started?" Lura asked.

"We think so, but there is no evidence to verify that. We just know she had taken in one injured soldier. Other than that no one really has any more information. No one was able to even ask her, she disappeared just before the war ended." Claire said quietly.

"Disappeared, you mentioned that earlier? What happened, was she involved with the war effort, I mean besides having the hospital?" Dylan asked. "Do you think maybe she was involved in some clandestine operations?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I remember my Grand mother telling me stories about how some American soldiers actually battled a group of German sailors found in the manor house. They were captured or killed but, afterwards, when the Allied forces searched the house they found nothing. No body was ever found and there was no trace of the soldier who was staying there." Claire stared down at the photo, brushing away some imaginary speck of dust. "Boy was she a babe, I would love to meet someone like her." she said smiling sadly.

Lura and Dylan glanced at each other smiling.

"So this woman for some reason is the ghost haunting the Manor?" Lura said, "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Well, it isn't, if it were just the ghost of Lady Eve. Most of the people here believe that some of the German's decided to stay behind too. I believe they are tormented by what ever happened to Lady Eve but most folks think it may be something else. Personally, I think they know what happened. I think they are responsible for her disappearance and they are going to stay behind until someone finds out what happened there, what happened to her." Clair said putting the picture away with a sigh.

"Okay, well, I may have an explanation for part of the story. I think I know what happened to the soldier that disappeared." Dylan glanced over at Lura not surprised at the expression on her face. After the visit from the wolf she figured that there was more to the visit than the standard ghost story.

"Well, I had a couple of really weird experiences in the woods, the first one yesterday and then again today." She said, feeling Lura's hand reach out and squeeze hers.

"Honey why didn't you tell me about them, I might have been able to help." Lura said, completely ignoring the barrister in front of them.

"Well after my last experience with seeing strange things...well, to tell ya the truth, I didn't believe me, why should I expect you to? I thought I might be having another flash back brought on by the stress of the flight, and you know how much I love flying." Dylan said smiling at Lura. "Actually its okay now, I umm...well, the wolf was there today. I knew it was real then." She turned to stare at Claire who was listening with her mouth wide open.

"I saw a woman dressed as a soldier walking through the forest. She was jumped by some men in grey uniforms. Itried to help her but when I got closer they all vanished." Dylan said.

"Dylan I didn't see anything. Why didn't you tell me?" Lura asked.

"What did she look like?" Asked Clair

"Well she was a tall redhead, dressed in a tan uniform. But you already know that right?" Dylan said.

"Actually no, we have always heard that the soldier that had been here was recovering from some sort of injury, but no one really knew it was a woman or who he or I should say she, is or what happened to her. Most folks believe that the strange goings on in the forest may be related to the ghosts in the house, but no one knows the connection. That would explain a few things." Clair said. "To my knowledge no one has ever seen the spirits of the forest. As far as I know you are the first." Claire said staring at Dylan in amazement.

"So you are saying that this ghost in the forest has never been seen?" Lura asked. When Claire shook her head "So how is it that folks think it is haunted?" She asked.

"Well, its not that the woods are haunted, just have some sort of supernatural thing going on. Sometimes people see glowing balls of light or strange fog, that sort of things" Clair said. "But no one had any idea what was going on there, we all just figured was connected with the ghosts of the Hall. I think the ghosts are all that have saved that bit of forest; most of our trees have been cut down to make homes or any number of things. After the war most folks needed the wood to reconstruct damaged homes. But even after all this time, through two world wars that forest survived. I believe it's because something happened there." Clair said, her voice dying out softly as her gaze wandered to the folder that held the picture.

"Well, can't we have an exorcism or something to make the ghost leave?" Lura asked

"I don't think so Lura, I think a priest would have done that already if it was that simple. There must be another reason for the ghosts staying. I think that Claire may be right about the ghosts in the house but I am not sure about the one in the forest." Dylan said frowning. "But I bet I could find out. If this woman was in the military then there must be some record of her somewhere, and I am positive that the skirmish with the Germans is recorded somewhere." Dylan said.

"You know, that is true, there was a rumor that one of the soldiers survived. I am not sure if it is true or not, it was so long ago that I think any records they made may be long gone."

"Well, we have to try. If the manor is haunted then maybe we can help those poor souls find peace." Lura said giving Dylan's hand a gentle squeeze.

Dylan returned the squeeze, and glanced down at the small hand in hers happy to know that Lura was willing to give this a try. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew that if that soldier needed help she had to do something. "Clair what do you know about a journal that Lady Eve kept?" She asked.

"A journal is that the one you mentioned earlier? I had no idea she kept one. Is there anything interesting in it? Did you bring it with you?" Clair asked, excitedly.

"No it's at the manor. There are some pages that seem to be missing. I think finding them may help us understand what happened." Lura said.

The women were silent for a moment all three lost in thought and all three startled when a knock came to the door and the receptionist walked in. The young man brought in a packet of papers, copies of the finished the documents they needed for their files.

With a lot to think about the two women gathered up their possessions and after giving Claire permission to visit, they left heading back to Cameron Hall.

The ride home was quiet and filled with thought. Both women felt compelled to try to help Lady Eve and to lift the doldrums from the manor, but Dylan felt the tug on her heart when she remembered the face of the redhead in the forest.

This time they passed through the forest with no problems, it was almost as if the spirits there knew that the two women had decided to help and in gratitude the left them alone, at least this time. Dylan kept checking her rear view mirror every few minutes and finally Lura asked her what she was looking for.

"A large grey white wolf. She is here, I don't know how, but it was her." She told Lura staring again into the mirror.

"Umm Dylan, by her do you mean the she wolf that was in the forest at home?" Lura asked confused.

Dylan nodded, "I think it is the same wolf Lura. I know it sound stupid but I would swear to it. It is the same wolf." She glanced back again just in time to see the animal in question trot across the road, pause in the middle and turn to stare after the car.

Dylan let out a sharp gasp and Lura turned to stare out the rear wind screen. All she saw was a large bushy tail disappearing into the tree line.

Chapter 26

"I tell you Dylan, I saw your wolf, she was beautiful, well at least the part of her I saw was." Lura said smiling at her partner.

"Well, what part of do you think you saw?" Dylan asked smiling back.

"A tail, I saw a great big bushy grey tail and don't even try that, "it was just a dog" crap. If that was a dog's tail it belonged to Arnold Schwatzadoggie." Lura said folding her arm ready for a fight.

"Who? Arnold who?" Dylan asked laughing.

"You know who, that actor guy who almost sank California into the ocean. You remember, the 'I'll be back' guy." She explained.

"Oh, yeah I remembered him. He was a real piece of work that guy. If he had become the Vice President that year that idiot Bush was in office we would never have been allowed to marry. Boy what a moron."

"Well he was a neat actor." Lura said defending Arnold.

"No not him, George Bush, he was the moron." Dylan laughed.

"Oh well, DUH! The world knows that!" Lura agreed. "And quit trying to change the subject. I saw your wolf and I think you are right. There is more to this story than just a simple haunting, if any haunting can be simple. Lura said.

"Well, I think I will do a bit of surfing when we get back to the house, maybe there is something on the net that can lend us a bit of insight."

"Yeah, well I think I will do what I do best." Lura commented.

"Yeah, what's that Honey?" Dylan asked smiling at her wife.

"Snoop." Lura grinned rubbing her hands together a wicked smile on her face.

They arrived back at the manor late that day, Dylan parked the little blue Mini in the drive and the two women entered the house.

Mrs. McDougal and the sisters had been busy, the bed was made the room had been tidied and their clothes were freshly washed and put away.

"Ya think when we go home we can slip her past customs?" Lura asked sighing.

"I don't see why not, if we fold her right she can fit into that monster bag you brought." Dylan grinned.

"Well, all I can say is the woman is a gem." Lura said smiling at her wife. "Who knows, I may divorce you and run off with Mrs. McDougal." She laughed.

"I think the Mr. might have something to say about that." Replied a voice from the doorway. "He would miss my cooking." Mrs. McDougal laughed.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in." Lura said blushing.

"Well, I saw you were back and though you might be wanting a bite to eat." The old house keeper explained setting a covered tray down on the small table in the room."

"It isn't, it isn't Haggis is it?" Dylan asked her face already turning a strange shade of grey.

"No and if you had warned me that you had no taste for it I would have fixed something else this morning." The old lady scolded her hands on her slim hips. "Now you two sit right down and tuck into that meal. The devil alone knows what and where you two have eaten." She fussed.

She lifted the lid from the tray to reveal two cokes along with a plate of hotdogs, buns, mustard and ketchup.

"YES, HOTDOGS!" Dylan shouted excitedly hugging the housekeeper then reaching for one of the buns and dogs.

"Well, Mrs. McDougal, seems you know the way to a soldiers heart." Lura laughed.

"Well, we always hear about American's and their baseball and hotdogs, so I figured our sausages and buns were safe." Mrs. McDougal laughed.

"Lura, I think we can use my suitcase, for the trip." Dylan grinned as she doused her dog with a very liberal amount of mustard as the confused housekeeper watched and Lura laughed.

Well, your Auntie Mattie, God rest her soul, fell in love with those things while she was visiting your country. After that she insisted on keeping a supply in the freezer. "The housekeeper explained.

"Mrs. McDougal, when we went to see the lawyer, she told us about the ghosts. I know Aunt Mattie and my mother didn't get along well, but I don't think she ever mentioned anything in her will about ghosts to my father either. Is the manor really haunted?" Lura asked, sitting next to Dylan with her hotdog.

"Well, I suppose you would find out sooner or later." Mrs. McDougal said sitting in a chair near the two women. "Ever since I can remember, there had been stories of the ghosts of Cameron Hall. Most folks, myself included, don't believe in ghosts, that is until I started working here, oh about thirty years ago. The first time I met the lady, I was in the kitchen fixing a bite for your Auntie. I heard this horrible scream then a loud sound, thud, thud, thud. I had no idea what it was so I ran into the dining hall looking for whatever it was that made the noise. I must say, that my hearing has never been the best but even I heard that." The housekeeper said. "Well, I didn't find anything in the hall so I went back to the kitchen that is when I saw it for the first time."

"What?" The two younger women asked in unison.

"The orb. I saw the orb. Folks say that ghosts appear in the form of orbs sometimes and there was one floating right there in my kitchen. That was my first experience with a spirit and I can tell you, I think it was the first day I ever found a grey hair." The housekeeper said, patting the grey curls on her head. "Since then I have heard or seen her in the great hall as well, but most of the time I see the orb floating in the kitchen. I was afraid at first but she doesn't bother anything so I just got use to seeing her. But I can tell you, the light that is in the great hall isn't her. That thing is much bigger and I always get a bad feeling when it is around." The old woman finished her story and stood reaching for the empty tray.

"Wait, Mrs. McDougal, what can you tell us about the Lady Eve? Why do you think she haunts the house? Is she mourning her husband killed in the war?" Lura asked stopping the housekeeper.

"Mourn that man, Saints no! Why should she mourn that worthless piece of horse poop, begging your pardon ma'am." Mrs. McDougal said.

"Certainly Mrs. McDougal." Lura grinned, "But why was he worthless, and a piece of horse poop?" She asked.

"Well, from what my Mum told me Miss, that sorry so and so, beggin your pardon Miss, had lady friends if you get my meaning." The housekeeper said setting the tray back down and clasping her hands in front of her in righteous indignation. "He had the nerve to bring those 'lady friends' of his into his home, that sorry so and so. Beggin your pardon Miss." The housekeeper said. "Anyway, he nearly drank and gamed his way through every bit of change the Lady had. What gets into a man sometimes I have no idea." Mrs. McDougal finished.

"Well, personally, I feel they all reach twelve and just get taller." Dylan said dryly, as she finished the last bite of her hotdog.

"Ain't that the truth of it." The older woman agreed. "Well speaking of twelve year olds, I had better get home and start fixing the Mr.'s dinner or he may try to cook his own heaven help us all." She said leaving as the two young women broke into laughter.

Once the she left Dylan stood smiling down at Lura, "Well love, it would seem that Mrs. McDougal has met the ghosts but has never really seen her. I think the fact that she seems to appear most often in the kitchen, may be a clue to what happened to her."

"I agree." Lura said, "And I don't think whatever it is she sees in the Great Hall is the ghosts of Lady Eve. I think it may be something connected to her death. I think it has something to do with the Germans Clair says were in the house.

"You are probably right Honey. I will check on line and see if I can find out anything about them. If there was a skirmish here in the Hall, I am sure there is something somewhere that will give us some information on it." Dylan walked over to their luggage and pulled her laptop from its case. Setting it on the table she plugged in the power cable in she adjusted the voltage and hooked into the Manors phone line. She pulled up a chair and sat down her attention focused on the liquid screen.

"Well, while you do that I am going to explore the kitchen a bit more. Maybe there is something I missed." Lura said heading for the door.

Down in the very modern kitchen Lura explored the cupboards surprise at the size of them. There were several the size of walk in closets, they held everything from potatoes and flower to cans of vegetables and fruit. The cabinets in the main kitchen were filled with a variety of china, she counted five different complete sets each with place setting for twelve. In the cabinet by a huge walk in freezer were rows of glittering crystal from tall glasses to short shot glasses, champagne flutes to delicate wine glasses. It was all amazing but she found nothing that she felt would link to the presence of a ghost. She left the kitchen, passed through the dining room and entered the great hall. She wandered around looking at the huge tapestries that decorated the walls. There were several of hunting scenes but the majority were scenes of ancient battles. She moved closer to one near the front door, her hand reached out to touch the soft stitching when suddenly something made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. She felt someone behind her and knew that it wasn't Dylan. Hoping it was the housekeeper, Lura closed her eyes and turned slowly around. As she opened her eyes her lips parted to scream. Directly in front of her, almost nose to nose was a strange man, he was bloody and torn, his mouth gaped open and his eyes were hollow and staring. He lifted his arms to enfold her just as the scream tore from her throat. She dodged around the figure and headed for the stairs, before she reached them a second figure appeared blocking her escape. She screamed for Dylan and turned back towards the dining hall.

Dylan heard the first scream and had leapt from her chair and headed for the door, her hand was on the knob as she heard the second scream, this one more piercing and calling her name. Her heart hammered in her throat as she turned the knob only to find the door jammed shut.

Lura ran headlong from the hall and raced past the long table in the dining hall, a third ghost stood in the hall his torso protruding through the center of the table, his figure that of a bullet riddled body. Terror filled Lura mind as she raced into the kitchen, there she was confronted with a fourth ghost, this one a young woman. She stood by a large pantry her hands folded in front of her, sad eyes watching Lura.

"What do you want? Who are those men? Why are you doing this to me?" Lura screamed, tears now rolling down her pale cheeks.

As Lura watched the figure of Eve opened her arms and drifted towards her, the ghostly lips moving but no sound coming from them. Just as she reached her, Lura's world went black.

Chapter 27

"Little Falcon, open your eyes. Lura honey please, open your eyes." Dylan's voice was soft but worried. She had finally been able to escape the room and had flown down the stairs taking them two at a time. She searched the hall and the dining room, calling for Lura as she ran. Hearing no response she rushed into the kitchen only to find her wife white as a sheet and unconscious on the kitchen floor. She picked Lura up and carried her back to their room, unaware of the smaller woman's weight, her only concern was to see her open her eyes and speak. She gently laid the blond on the bed and rushed into the bathroom to wet a cloth, returning she had wiped Lura's pale face hoping the cold water would revive her. When that didn't work she put the cloth down and began rubbing her hands and arms and calling her name. Finally Lura's eyelashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes. Seeing Dylan's worried face in front of her she reached for the soldier and was quickly lifted into warm loving arms, tears streaming down her face.

"Shh, its okay honey, everything's alright now, I'm here, I'm here. Please stop crying honey, please." Dylan begged rubbing Lura's back soothingly.

"Dylan they were everywhere. They were chasing me and I couldn't get away. I saw the ghosts, I saw Lady Eve." Lura stammered between gulps of air.

"Okay honey, calm down and tell me what you saw." Dylan said still rubbing Lura's back.

"I went down to look in the kitchen, you know, figuring that Mrs. McDougal may have seen Eve, but there was nothing there, so I went into the Great Hall. You know how beautiful those tapestries are." She said her voice finally beginning to return to normal. "Well I felt something behind me and I knew it wasn't you, but I though it might be one of the staff. When I turned around there was a man there, and Dylan he was dead." Lura said, the tears starting again.

"It's okay Lura, it might have been a ghost, and you know that ghosts can't hurt you right?" Dylan said reassuringly.

"Sure Dylan, my brain knows that but it didn't tell my heart, my lungs and certainly not my feet." Lura grumbled.

"Well, what happened next?" Dylan asked relieved to hear the spirit returning to her small wife.

"Well my feet decided it was time for me to leave and my lungs though it might be nice to have someone to leave with me, so I ran to the stairs and called you, but there was another ghost at the stairs and he wouldn't let me by. I ran to the kitchen and that is when I met Eve. I tell you Dylan, she looked a lot better in her picture." Lura sighed, leaning more heavily against her partner.

"What do you mean Lura, she was a ghost, she was supposed to look pale." Dylan said

"Yeah, I know that Dylan but she wasn't just pale, she was...well different, there was something wrong with her ghost. I mean all the men seemed to have really bad injuries. I guess that was how they looked when they died, but Eve looked odd, I can't really put my finger on it but there was something strange about her ghost." Lura said as pulled back to stare into Dylan's worried blue eyes.

"Well, strange or not, I don't want you wandering around this place alone anymore. If you want to explore then we go together, deal?" She asked

"Oh yeah, you got a deal there." Lura agreed.

"Alright then, if you are feeling a bit better, I found some information that might shed a bit of light on what happened here." Dylan said standing and moving to the laptop. She picked it up and carried it back to the bed sitting down again close to her mate. Clicking some keys she brought up a screen titled "The History of the Black American Soldier". Going to the search block she typed in Cameron Hall, the laptop clicked and hummed and a few minutes later the screen filled with pictures of unit crests. Moving the curser to a dark green crest with a red hand in the center she clicked, the small computer hummed again and this time the screen showed a different title: 'The History of the Harlem Hell Fighters' the battling 369th Infantry of New York.

"Wow, that is really cool honey, I remember hearing about the Harlem Hell Fighters but I can't really remember much about them." Lura said, " I do remember reading a story a long time ago about an African American soldier that was killed in 1914. He had been recommended for the Medal of Honor but the paperwork was lost until 1990 something." Lura said. But I don't think he was in the same unit." Her eyes were following the lines of text that now appeared across the screen.

"You are talking about Freddie Stower, I read about him in a military history magazine a while back. He was killed in battle at Verdun in 1914, he was a member of the 371st Infantry, I remember because the unit was from South Carolina, the base was called Camp Jackson back then.

Anyway, there were very few black units that were trained for combat during the World War One, that made it easy to find out who the black doughboys were that were suppose to have attacked the hall. Back during the early 1900's the American Army wasn't integrated." Dylan said, her eyes glued to the screen as she typed. "The black units trained with the same weapons as the white units but when it came time to get into the trenches the old laws and prejudices kept the two races from fighting together, at least in the American Army." She clicked a few more keys searching for the information she wanted. "Well General John Pershing, "Black Jack" Pershing, had led black troops before and knew they could fight, he also knew that the French Army was desperate for replacements, so instead of making the black units into stevedore units, he assigned most of them to the French Army. I tell ya Laura, those guys were tough, I wish we had some of them when I was on active duty. The entire time in France the 369th never lost a foot of ground." She stopped here to turn to Lura. "Imagine that, fighting in mud and human waste and death and never losing any ground. Trench warfare was hell and most of those men had never left the city much less fought in that type of terrain. You add that with the fact that they were assigned to a unit that didn't even speak the same language as they did and you gotta admire those guys.

Sighing she returned to the laptop. "Oh, wait here it is." She clicked the line in question and brought up a screen.

The Harlem Hell Fighters in Scotland: A small contingent of African American soldiers were involved in a skirmish in the small Town of Chambers in Scotland while stationed there to recover from injuries suffered in the trenches. A group of German sailors, apparently stranded along the coast had attempted to return to Germany but were stopped outside the Town of Chambers. In a bloody battle that lasted several hours the still injured members of the valiant 369th engaged the enemy in a large manor home at the edge of the town. The Germans were eventually overcome and all but one died in the conflict. The remaining sailor was found roaming the countryside and was detained as a prisoner of war. He remained in England until the end of the war.

"That's it for that part, but there may be more, hang on a second. I think I saw something on the home page." Dylan's long fingers flew across the keyboard. "Yep I thought so, here it is, it's a link to another site." A few light taps later and the screen changed again. "Found it, a transcript of the sole survivor's interrogation." Dylan said excitedly.

"Oh, my God, no wonder the Germans fought when they were cornered. Listen to this Lura, it says that according to the sailor that was captured, the Germans had been in a damaged submarine and had a cash of gold and silver that they were trying to get to the German government with. It was to be used to purchase more weapons and support the German war efforts. Their ship had been damaged and they had been forced to abandon it on the coast of Scotland. The survivors had taken the gold and silver with them, trying to make it back to Germany in time to save the war, but they had gotten lost and were stranded in enemy territory. The Captain had died and the First Mate had been left in command. He had been sent to try to find food and had gotten lost. That was all he knew. But wait it gives more information here from the British Government some sort of intelligence report. Apparently the story is true about the gold and silver. The Germans had been tracked to Scotland and the British were trying to recover the treasure when they Germans disappeared. When they heard about the skirmish they figured it was the same crew. They hurried here and interviewed the American soldiers that had been involved but nothing was ever found. The British Government has the treasure listed as missing presumed lost."

Dylan turned to look at Lura, she was sure the stunned expression on the blonds face was a mirror image of her own. "Lura the treasure was never found. The surviving sailor died a few years after the war in a boating accident."

"So what do we know Dylan?" Lura said counting off the points outloud. "One, apparently, the men were looking for food and transportation to get them out of the country. Two they never got past Chambers. Three, the sailor says that he had been a scout and had gotten separated from the rest of the unit when he was sent ahead to look for a place for them to stay for the night. So four, more than likely, they found Cameron Hall and hid the treasure and themselves here." Dylan nodded her head in agreement then continued to page down on the computer, searching for more information.

"I figure the treasure must be hidden near here. That would explain why the German sailors are haunting this place and the forest, they are here guarding the loot."

"There is something else Dylan." Lura said her voice low and sad. "Maybe Lady Eve found out about it or where it is hidden.

"And they killed her to keep her quiet." Dylan added, "That's all they have here Sweetheart." Reaching the end of the page Dylan turned off the computer.

"Wow, Dylan, this story is a lot deeper than I though. Maybe Lady Eve is haunting the hall because she is trying to let someone know where the treasure is and the sailors are trying to keep it hidden." Lura said standing to move to the chest to retrieve her night shirt.

"You may be right honey, but I don't think that is the only reason." Dylan agreed, standing to strip off her jeans and shirt. "I think that the woman in the woods has something to do with it too. Why else would my spirit sister be here? No this story isn't as simple as some freaked out sailors on guard duty. I think I need to try to communicate with the woman in the woods." Dylan said removing her bra and panties and slipping, naked under the covers.

"You can do that? You can talk to the ghost in the forest?" Lura asked turning out the light and joining her lover in bed.

"I don't know, I have never tried it. But Hell, what could it hurt? I will try tomorrow, at least folks are scared of the woods and no one will see me talking to the trees." Dylan laughed.

Lura nodded in agreement as she snuggled into a warm shoulder and nuzzled into a soft breast.

Chapter 28

That night Dylan was jolted awake by the impact of an arm striking her in the side. As the feeling of the impact registered and she began to stir, her senses were shocked by a scream. Wide awake now Dylan reached over and turned on the light on the nightstand. Lura was having a nightmare, her arms flayed the air, her small fists fighting some unseen entity. Her face was flushed and streaked with tears and her soft blond hair was matted to her scalp with sweat. Dylan sat up in bed and reached for Lura. "Lura, Lura honey, wake up, wake up you are having a bad dream." Dylan shook her mate, frightened when there was no response. Suddenly, Lura screamed again, this time Dylan could hear the terror in her voice.

"Lura, please Little Falcon, wake up." Dylan was frightened now, Lura was not responding. She climbed from the bed and picked up the phone from the nightstand, she punched the zero on the key pad and kept her fingers crossed. The phone rang once, twice then on the third ring Mrs. McDougal answered.

"Thank God, Mrs. McDougal I need a doctor, something is wrong with Lura!" Dylan said her voice cracking at the mention of her wife's name.

"Calm down Ms. Dylan and tell me what is wrong." Mrs. McDougal said.

"Lura is having some sort of nightmare and I can't wake her up. I need a doctor and I want him here NOW!" Dylan yelled into the phone just before she slammed it back into the cradle. She reached for the damp cloth she had used earlier that evening and rushed into the bathroom to rewet it. Returning with the dripping cloth she gently wiped Lura's face as she called softly to her wife. "Lura honey, wake up it's only a dream, wake up honey." She cooed softly. Slowly the blond stopped her furious thrashing, her arms fell, limp to her side, the sobbing gradually began to subside to soft sniffing and the tears slowed and finally stopped, but Dylan was still unable to wake her wife. Beside herself with worry, she did not hear the soft knock on the door or Mrs. McDougal as she entered and jumped when she heard the older woman clear her throat.

"Umm, sorry Miss, but I just thought you might want to put something on, the doctor should be here any minute." The housekeeper held a thick robe open for Dylan as the dark woman stood, her eyes still on her partner, and slipped her arms into the thick warm sleeves. Wrapping the belt around her slim waist she returned to her place beside Lura immediately forgetting the housekeeper's presence, not even noticing when she silently left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Nothing registered with the distraught woman except the unnaturally still features of the small blond woman, wrapped in the twisted linen of the bed.

Minutes ticked by as Dylan sat waiting for the doctor to arrive, her mind was numb with the thought of Lura's still body. Her world had stopped revolving; her heart beat a heavy thudding tattoo in her skull as she waited. Finally, as she felt the rise of a frustrating scream enter her throat the door opened and Mrs. McDougal admitted the doctor. A middle aged, robust man with dark hair liberally sprinkled with grey and smile lines that creased his cheeks and framed his eyes.

"I'm sorry it took me so long, but I had to drive around the forest, a fog has the road impassible." The doctor explained as he removed his coat and opened a large brown bag. His eyes narrowed as he turned his attention to his patient. "Who can tell me what she ate for dinner?" he asked.

"Hot dogs, or one hot dog." Dylan said, "We had lunch in town and she wasn't really hungry at dinner time."

"Did you eat the same things?" The doctor asked checking Lura's pulse.

"Yes we both had burgers at McDonalds then the hotdogs for dinner. I don't think it was the food." The dark woman said watching as the doctor retrieved a stethoscope from his bag. "She had a pretty good scare earlier this evening and she blacked out for a few minutes. She seemed alright when we went to bed and I don't remember her suffering from any type of head injury." Dylan said her mind replaying the events of the evening.

"What kind of scare?" The doctor asked, placing the stethoscope around his neck as he checked Lura's pupils with a pen light, a frown now marring his features.

"Well, this may sound silly, but she told me that some ghosts chased her around the dining room and into the kitchen. You may not believe it but I do, and apparently they frightened her enough to cause her to black out." Dylan moved to the other side of the bed and picked up Lura's hand, rubbing the back of it with her thumb as she continued. "This evening she fell asleep alright but about an hour ago, I guess, she started having a bad dream. She was throwing her arms around and screamed twice. It woke me up and I tried to wake her, when she didn't wake up, I had Mrs. McDougal call you. That is all I can tell you." Dylan said her voice fading softly. "Is she going to be okay?" She asked. Her throat tightened as she waited for an answer. The doctor slipped the stethoscope into his ears and placed the round disk on Lura's chest. Dylan's heart pounded harder in her chest as she waited. Finally, he removed the scope and pulled the sheets and blankets back up around Lura's chest.

"I think she will be fine. She seems to be sleeping very deeply, but I can't find anything wrong with her." He said. "Let her sleep through the night and when she wakes in the morning call me." He put his instruments away and picked up his coat.

"Thank you doctor, I will call you as soon as she wakes." Dylan said as she reached out the take the man's hand, turning away from Lura for the first time since she had been wakened earlier that evening. "Mrs. McDougal, could you please show the doctor out. Then you can go home, I will stay up and watch Lura."

"Very good Miss Dylan." Mrs. McDougal said, addressing Dylan with a touch of formality for the first time since she and Lura had arrived. It seemed strange to Dylan but then, the entire night had been filled with strange events.

As the housekeeper and the doctor left the room, Mrs. McDougal pulled the door shut behind her. Dylan sat there on the bed for quite some time, her eyes taking in the image of her wife and drifting to the picture of the bed without Lura in it. Shaking her head as if to throw the picture from her mind, Dylan stripped out of the robe and slipped under the sheets and blankets, she gently lifted Lura and pulled her closer, into her arms. Reaching out she turned off the lamp and finally drifted off to sleep lulled there by the steady gently breathing of the Falcon.

Early the next morning Lura woke to find herself smothered in Dylan's warm embrace. As she snuggled closer she wrapped her legs around the long tanned ones of her wife and squeezed herself as close as possible, giving Dylan a full body hug. As she watched, the thick black lashes fluttered open and stunning blue eyes turned towards her.

"You're awake!" Dylan said, a brilliant smile lighting her face.

"Well duh, silly of course I'm awake. It is morning isn't it?" Lura said burrowing her nose deeper into the tempting breast she found so close to her face. Unable to resist the temptation, her tongue slipped out and flicked across one deep pink nipple, she smiled as she watched it pucker in response.

"Oh, yeah, you're awake alright. Now stop that and let me look at you a second." Dylan said twisting her body around so that she could look into Lura's green eyes.

"Aww, and here I though I was going to get breakfast in bed." The blond pouted her eyes watching her intended snack pull away.

"Well, you can have some breakfast after I get a good look at you. You had us all worried last night ya know. The least you can do is let me make sure you are okay, it will calm my poor old nerves, so humor me will ya?" Dylan chuckled, glad to see her wife back to normal, or as near to normal as Lura usually got when her mind was on other things.

"Well, okay but you promised me breakfast in...hey wait a minute, what do you me 'all', who is 'all'?" She asked her attention finally off Dylan's chest as her eyes darted up to her mates face.

"All is me, Mrs. McDougal and the doctor, now hold still and let me look at your eyes." Dylan said as she wrapped slender fingers around Lura's chin and tilted her face up towards the light. She studied the green eyes, checking the pupils for any irregularities unaware that her sable brows were drawn into a frown of concentration.

"Hey what's that about a doctor? I don't remember any doctor. When did I see a doctor?" Lura asked trying to pull her chin from her wife's fingers. "Hey you, I'm talking here. When did I see a doctor?" Lura complained finally getting Dylan's attention.

"Last night, when I couldn't get you to wake up. Now hold still, I'm not finished." Dylan complained.

Lura sat stunned as Dylan finished her exam and released the blonds chin. That act seemed to release Lura's brain which finally absorbed what Dylan had said.

"Wait on minute there Hawk, you mean to tell me that a doctor was here last night and examined me and I didn't even wake up? That just isn't possible, I know I'm a heavy sleeper but that is just down right stupid. How could that be possible?" She turned to Dylan looking for an explanation.

"I don't know Lura that's why we called the doctor. I though maybe it had something to do with the ghosts from yesterday or something. Maybe it was just too much excitement or maybe it was because you passed out, maybe you hit your head when you fell. I really don't know." Dylan said throwing her hands up in frustration. She stood, slipped on a robe from the foot of the bed, and walked away from Lura. Staring out of the bedroom window, her back to Lura, Dylan continued. "All I know is that you had some really horrible nightmare and I couldn't wake you. I...I thought I had lost you." She finished in a soft voice. "I didn't know what to do. This wasn't something I have any kind of training in and I had no idea what to do to fix it, so I called Mrs. McDougal and she called the doctor." Turning around she faced Lura, tears rolling slowly and unchecked from her blue eyes. "If I had lost you...God Lura I was scared. More frightened than I had ever been in my life, you just lay there, you didn't move, you were barely breathing." Dylan choked out.

Lura stood and walked to her wife, wrapping her slender arms around a trim waist, she looking up into worried blue eyes. "Well, you can stop worrying about that, it would take a lot more than some spooky old ghosts to pry me from you. I am not planning on going anywhere any time soon so you might as well get use to my funny face." She said giving Dylan a firm squeeze and inhaling the warm sent of her mate.

Finally dressed, the two women made it downstairs to the main dining hall. Mrs. McDougal had set the table with bowls and silverware. A covered plate steamed in between the two place settings.

"Uh, oh, mystery meal." Dylan said stopping behind a chair at one of the settings.

"I don't know Dylan; maybe that sleeping thing wasn't so bad. I mean, we could both go back to bed and not wake up until there is something on the table we recognize." Lura said, smiling as Dylan laughed.

"Ah, so you two decided to come down and join the living, so to speak." Mrs. McDougal said from the doorway of the kitchen. "And just so's ya know, I fixed something that even you heathens from the colonies should recognize." She added reaching over to lift the lid from the mystery entrée.

As the steam wafted into the air the two women leaned forward to check out the contents.

"Cream of wheat!" Lura exclaimed.

"Oh, yum!" Dylan added, "Where is the sugar and milk?"

"Ugh, sugar, you mean salt don't you honey?" Lura asked pulling back her chair to sit. "No one in their right mind eats cream of wheat with sugar. Everyone knows you use salt, and no milk, yuck."

"Well, you Yankee, we Southerners invented cream of wheat and we use sugar, butter and plenty of milk." Dylan said sitting down and reaching for her preferred condiments.

"Well, you are both right, as long as you eat it and stop argueing." Mrs. McDougal laughed. "How are you feeling this morning Miss?" She asked Lura. "You gave us quite a scare last night ya know."

"I'm sorry about that Mrs. McDougal, I feel fine and I honestly have no idea what happened last night. Dylan told me about it this morning and I don't remember anything." Lura said pausing with the salt shaker over her bowl.

"Do you think you can call the doctor and tell him that she is feeling better, Mrs. McDougal. Maybe he can make a run out here later today and give her a check up. I know I would feel better knowing that everything in that confusing blond head was working right." She added.

"I'll do that right after breakfast Miss Dylan. I am betting the doctor sleeps in today, he did have a long night ya know and our little town doesn't have emergencies that keep him up so late. I know he will be bragging to his chums in the pub about this for months. I can just hear him now, 'Oh and I had to drive into the night to tend to my beautiful ailing American patient, oh the trial and tribulations.' He will leave out the fact that he had a nice glass of one hundred year old Scotch waiting for him when he finished, to keep his bones warm on the ride home. Oh no, he will leave that bit out and how I had to hold his hand and lead him past the ghosties in the hall because he was too frightened to walk through the hall at night alone. The big brave doctor..." She continued ranting and waving her arms as she went back into the kitchen.

The two women watched her, hearing her voice carry through the closed door as she went about her morning chores fussing aloud about the doctor.

Dylan turned to look at Lura and together the two broke into gales of laughter.

Following breakfast the two women decided to continue their task from the day before. Dylan went back upstairs to grab her laptop while Lura helped Mrs. McDougal clear the table.

While she was upstairs gathering the power cords adaptors and phone cables for her HP she heard a loud commotion coming from downstairs. She threw the laptop onto the bed and headed for the stairs.

"Miss Dylan, come quick its Miss Lura, she's collapsed in the kitchen!" Mrs. McDougal yelled as she ran from the dining hall to the bottom of the stairs.

"Damn, damn, damn, I shouldn't have left her alone. Oh, God, let her be okay." Dylan mumbled to herself and she jumped down the last few steps and ran towards the kitchen. Throwing open the door she was relieved to see Lura sitting up on the floor, supported by the now distraught house keeper. As she drew closer she became alarmed again by the bruised on her wife's face and arms.

"By the Great Spirit Lura, what happened?" Dylan asked as she quickly knelt at the side of the dazed blond.

"I don't know Dylan. One minute I was carrying our bowls into the kitchen the next minute I was falling down a flight of stairs in the dark. I guess I was having a daydream or a day mare or maybe a flash back, but I don't think I have ever fallen down any stairs. Dylan what is going on? Why is this happening to me?" Lura cried watching the large red whelps appear on her arms.

Dylan took Lura's hands in hers and turned them palm up, watching in stunned silence as tears appeared on the tender flesh of her wife's hands.

"Mrs. McDougal you get that quack from last night on the phone and tell him he has thirty minutes to get his sorry ass back here or he won't like the consequences." Dylan growled turning flashing silver blue eyes towards the housekeeper.

Mrs. McDougal nodded her head and stood moving towards the phone on the kitchen wall her face was pale and serious.

Dylan scooped Lura up and carried her back to the dining room. Using her foot she scooted a chair away from the table, sitting Lura down gently on the seat she knelt in front of her. "Honey, how do you feel, can you tell me what happened?" Dylan asked her voice soft and soothing, her hands holding Lura's, the long fingers brushing across her knuckles.

"It was so strange Dylan, it was like it was me but it wasn't. I mean one minute I am taking the dishes into the kitchen, then the next minute I am watching myself fall down a flight of stairs. I could see each step, feel each bump, but it wasn't me at all." Lura said her eyes tearing with fear and pain. "I know it sounds stupid but it wasn't me." The tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped on their joined hands. "Dylan it wasn't me, it was Eve. I saw Eve falling."

"It's okay Lura, it's over now, your safe. The doctor will be here soon and we can get to the bottom of this, I promise." Dylan said, meaning every word.

"The doctor is on his way Miss, he should be here in just a few minutes." Mrs. McDougal said. "I was right, he was at the pub, his house keeper couldn't reach him but his nephew was available. The man needs a keeper, he is suppose to carry one of those pager things with him at all times but he always forgets it. I swear he lives in the seventeenth century, the devil take him. Beggin' your pardon Miss." The housekeeper added.

"Thanks Mrs. McDougal I am going to take Miss Lura back to our room, she can lay down until the doctor get here." Dylan turned to Lura, "Honey can you walk?"

"I think so, I'm just a bit shaky." Lura said rising slowly to her feet.

Holding tightly to Dylan's arm the two women made there way to the bedroom where Dylan helped Lura to undress then pulled the covers up and dragged a chair close to the bed to wait.

Almost twenty minutes had gone by before Dylan heard the sounds of foot steps on the stairs. The door to the room opened slowly and Mrs. McDougal led a young man in.

Dylan stood from her place next to Lura and waited for the physician.

This was not the same man as the night before, but Mrs. McDougal had not been able to locate the older doctor. His nephew had been at the office and had quickly agreed to come to the house. The gentleman in question strolled across the room towards Dylan. He smoothed back his hair and held his hand out.

"Hello Miss, I am doctor Sweeny. I understand your friend has had another incident." He smiled at the beautiful brunette, impressed by the striking woman. His uncle had told him of his late night call to the manor and had spoken of the two American women that were visiting there. But it was obvious to the young doctor that his uncle had left out, what he considered, critical information. How had Uncle John missed that little detail from last nights visit? Poor Uncle John, you are losing your touch. Smiling in what he hoped was a charming way he eyed the tall dark woman.

Dylan was in no mood for charm, her partner was in pain and that was all she was thinking of at the moment.

"I would not call these bruises or the damage to her hands and 'incident' doctor." Dylan said coldly. "My WIFE has had quite a scare, she needs your attention right now." The soldier said, narrowing her ice cold eyes to slits.

"Your wife? Oh, um yes...well I...I..." the young man stammered.

"Yes, Lura Gillum Grant-Hawke, my wife. Do you have a problem with that doctor, because believe me, I am in the proper frame of mind to discuss it with you outside, right after you take care of my wife, NOW."

"Yes, umm well then...wait, Hawke? Did you say Hawke? You aren't related to that American Police Captain are you? I tell you, he must be some man." The doctor rambled on, opening his bag and sitting at Lura's side attempting to regroup. "Living out in the desert for all those years, I tell you, I don't know many men who could handle that, myself included. No, I don't think I could. He is a far better man than I am." He said, attempting to win over the stunning woman. He smiled again, pulling his stethoscope from his bag and turned to await Dylan's answer.

"I would agree with that." Dylan said, "And since I am Captain Hawke and I am certainly not a man I would say this subject is terminated. Do I make myself clear?" Dylan added coldly her anger beginning to get the better of her usual sweet disposition.

"Umm, yes well, let me see..." The young man decided that it might be to his benefit to close his mouth and do what he was there to do. The old adage, "Physician, heal thyself." had suddenly sprung into his mind, turning back to his patient, he began his exam.

What seemed like hours later the doctor left, he had been unable to determine a reason for Lura's strange bruises or the wounds on her hands. He covered the tears with a numbing salve and bandaged them with sterile gauze. He gave the exhausted woman an injection that, he assured Dylan, would keep Lura asleep for at least six hours. He left her with a small vial of sedatives and a prescription for more should they be needed. The young man told Dylan that he would be providing his uncle with a report once he returned in the event that they needed any additional medical assistance. He looked up at the angry dark woman and paled again hoping his efforts would be acceptable.

Dylan frowned at the doctor, hoping he would be able to provide more information on the cause of Lura's strange bruising but apparently this fellow was as limited in his skill as he was his bedside manners. Thanking the man Dylan asked Mrs. McDougal to escort him to the door while she stayed with Lura. She had never known Lura to be so still or silent except for their time in the desert and neither of them spoke much of that. Kicking off her shoes to climbed into bed next to the drowsy woman, Lura had been quiet through the entire exam, that alone was enough to tell Dylan that whatever had happened to her wife had really affected her. Laying down she wrapped her arms around Lura and held her close and hummed gently to her, lulling her to sleep.

Chapter 29

With Lura sleeping upstairs Dylan headed out the front door towards the little blue car, she needed answers. She knew she had a few hours before Lura woke. I don't know what is going on, but I am pretty sure I know where I can start looking. Dylan thought as she climbed into the car and shut the door. Slipping the key into the ignition she cranked up the small sports car, the tiny but powerful Cooper S engine in the little blue pocket rocket roared to life as Dylan floored the accelerator. Gravel flew as she shot down the driveway the little car a dark blue streak as it headed toward the forest.

Dylan glanced down at her watch, it was already after twelve in the afternoon, it had been a traumatic day so far and it was no where near over yet. As she reached the edge of the tree line a carpet of heavy grey fog seemed to roll out to greet her, it wavered then parted admitting the small car, only to slam shut behind her.

As she drove slower she crept deeper and deeper into the forest, the sounds around her changed, fading into nothing. The first to go was the radio, Dylan had not remembered even turning it on, then she realized that she hadn't, Lura had, the last time they had been in the car. A strange tension built again in her chest. The next sound to go was the faint crunch of the tires on the rocky road, the last to go was the throaty growl of the Cooper engine. In the silence that now surrounded her she thought that if she tried hard enough she could hear the sound of her body sweating.

Slowly, it grew dark, not the gentle soothing dark of night but the strange heavy darkness of an eclipse. She turned on the headlights more to comfort herself than anything else, as she noticed the beams reached out for only a slender few feet then stopped dead. Dead, that was what she felt, the stillness of death. As if on cue the engine sputtered and the power to the wheels failed and the small car rolled to a stop. Dylan sat there unsure of what to do, but knowing she had to do something. She opened the driver door to step out and came face to face with the wolf. The two stared at each other for a long minute then the wolf slowly backed up giving Dylan permission to leave the car.

Dylan felt no threat from the wolf, rather the warmth that she had always come to associate with home and love. As she stood reaching out to the large canine's head hoping to stroke the thick fur, the wolf turned away, looking off in the direction Dylan had been driving. Following the wolf's gaze Dylan watched again as the young red haired woman walked through the forest she saw the men crotched in the tree line. She could not help but call out to the young woman, but this time the red head responded. She paused and stared at Dylan with stunned green eyes. The men in the grey uniforms stopped as well, they all looked at the dark woman in surprise and amazement, but no one was more surprised than Dylan. She felt a warm touch on her leg and looked down, the grey wolf was pushing her towards the group, this was what she had come for, she knew now that these people were part of the answer.

"Who are you?" A soft voice asked.

Dylan realized that the red haired woman had spoken. She walked closer and was pleased to see the red head moving toward her and stunned to watch the German disappear, literally. They were gone, disappearing into the grey fog.

"My name is Dylan, Dylan Hawke, and I think I need your help." She said offering her hand unsure if ghosts could touch the living, she though it better to offer than not, and was surprised to feel the grip of a large warm hand in hers. She smiled a bit in relief, to realize that she was greeting a kindred spirit, literally.

"My name is Rebecca, but you can call me Reb." The red haired woman said in a soft Scottish brogue. "I am not sure if I can help you Dylan Hawke, I am a bit lost myself. I know I was taking a bit of a walk but now I can't remember where I was going. I do know that I have to get back, Eve is waiting for me." Reb said and to Dylan's surprise, she blushed from the collar of her uniform shirt to the roots of her red hair.

"Oh, I understand, I have someone waiting for me as well." Dylan said, the smile in her voice reaching to her eyes making them twinkle with mischief. "She is why I am here." Dylan added, pausing to gauge Reb's response, she was not disappointed; Rebecca looked up with happy surprise at the face of this beautiful woman.

"Well it seems then, that we have something in common, sister." Rebecca chuckled.

"More than you realize Reb, more than you realize." Dylan said.

It was so dark where she was; the problem is she had no idea where that may be. "I have got to find Rebecca." Lura said aloud. "Rebecca? Who is Rebecca?" She asked herself hearing her voice bounce off the walls in the room she was now in. "Dylan? Dylan where are you? Where am I?" Lura stood, holding out her hands she walked forward, her fingers outstretched feeling the air. It was so dark and it smelled. Smelled of mold and dirt and age, the air was cold and clammy and her feet did not want to work properly. Her legs ached and her side burned, something warm and sticky was rolling down her back and somehow she knew it was blood. "The stairs, I fell down the stairs. I remember now, the Germans were in the kitchen and they needed something to eat." Lura spoke aloud, her mind jumping from thought to picture to speech. She was in the kitchen, no it wasn't her, it was Eve. Eve was in the kitchen. She was worried, frightened. There were strange men there. They don't belong here, she will be back soon and they will hurt her.

Lura's mind was skipping, first she was Eve, then not, now she was Lura. She watched through Eve's eyes as she walked to a door in the kitchen. She had to make the German's leave, Dylan would be back soon. No, that isn't right, not Dylan, Rebecca, Rebecca would be back soon. She opened the door, and stepped forward, wait, someone was behind her. Who? She turned her head, one of the Germans, What does he want? Her foot, the stair, she missed the stair. Pain, it hurts so much, the sounds, bones breaking, red, pain, nothing.

"How can I help you Dylan?" Rebecca asked looking at the strange woman. "Are you lost? I don't think I have seen you around here before." Rebecca said, stepping back.

"Well, that is because I am not from around here." Dylan responded smiling again. "I am from the United States. I am here with my partner, my wife. We are visiting her family home here in Chambers." Dylan said honestly.

"Ah, an American, that's a fine fair land you're from. I have met several Americans." Reb said, "A fine crew of hearty fighting men they were. I think they saved my arse a few weeks ago." She chuckled. "I got, well, separated from my unit and had no way to get back. I had finally decided to toss it all when this mass of crazy Yanks came charging over the hill. I was fair happy to see them, I can say." She chuckled. "We charged those damned Huns and got a bit of our own back, I think. To tell you the truth, I'm hoping that is what happened. I took a round or two ya see and was napping for a while. But I can say for fair that those black bastards were the best. No backing down, not one of them, fought like Scotsmen." Rebecca said tilting her chin as if waiting for Dylan to challenge her. She had heard how many Americans treated the black soldiers and she did not approve.

"Well, you will never hear me disagree on that one. Those were the Harlem Hell Fighters and believe me, those men never gave back an inch of ground that they fought and died for." Dylan said seriously.

"So, you are familiar with the military then." Rebecca asked, changing the subject a bit, one dark red brow now arching in suspicion and doubt.

"Well, I should hope so, I was in for quite a few years myself." Dylan said.

"Oh?" Rebecca asked warily. "And what unit would that be you were fighting with? I dinna know the American's had women in their Army." She said questioning Dylan.

"Well, we are not a large force yet and we are not fighting in the Great War." Dylan said honestly. "I was with the Military Police, I served in the Desert." She said.

"Well, that answers it then. There is no war for you Yanks in any desert lands now." Rebecca said relaxing. "I suppose they have you buried in paper work or bandages." She laughed assuming that Dylan was a nurse assigned a Law Enforcement unit and remembering her days as a medical aid.

"Something like, that." Dylan responded elusively, realizing that Rebecca had no idea of the date or even the day for that matter. This might prove an interesting conversation after all.

Chapter 30

Lura woke again, this time she was back in the small room. Her fingers were tracing a section of the wall; she walked along allowing her touch to lead her until she reached the edge of a door. Gratefully, her hands sought a handle searching down the soft wood at the doors edge. Finding a rusty knob she twisted and pulled. Thankfully, the door opened and she stepped boldly forward only to stop suddenly, as her feet and face struck a wall.

Rubbing her tender nose, she thought, "Who would build a wall in a doorway? It made no sense. Why would you want to keep someone out of this room, it smelled, it's damp and miserably cold. Wait, this wall was not built to keep someone out but to keep me in!

Sweat broke out on Lura's forehead as she felt the bricks along the doorway. The cold stone was firm and unyielding, her stomache knotted as she searched for an opening. Nothing, no holes, no door, no exit, nothing, she was trapped. Panic gripped her and her heart thudded in her chest. She felt the air entering and leaving her lungs, her thoughts turned to time. How long had she been there, how long would she be there, how long would the air hold out? She had to escape, she had to get out! No one would find her here.

"NO! Dylan? DYLAN HELP ME!!" Lura screamed pounding now on the solid wall, hearing the thud of her fists, the sound echoing through the thickness of the mortar. There would be no breaking through.

"Umm, Hi. Hello? HELLO! Please stop screaming, you are really making my head hurt." The voice was soft and accented. Lura turned to search the dark for the source, it came from a corner of the room. There was a thin shaft of light coming in through a narrow crack between the stones high up on the wall. The light fell on a pair of tiny feet that lay near a pile of what appeared to be rags. Lura stepped closer and saw the rags move, the movement was accompanied by a hiss of pain. It was a sound Lura had though she had forgotten, the last time she had heard it was when Dylan was recovering from their ordeal in the desert.

Moving closer Lura stared away from the light letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. There in the corner she saw a young woman, she was beautiful.

"Who are you? Where are we?" She asked confused.

"My name is Eve and I think we are in a store room in the cellar of my home, Cameron Hall." The soft voice explained.

The woman named Eve tried to sit up straighter, as Lura stared at her, stunned silent. Eve's face frowned in pain as her arms gave out and she fell back onto a pile of cloth. She lay there, apparently exhausted by the simple act of sitting up.

Eve's movements and obvious pain brought Lura towards the small dark woman. "Are you alright; is there something I can do to help you?" Lura asked concerned.

"I think my legs may be broken. I took a tumble down the stairs and I kenna remember anything else. I have to get out of here, Rebecca needs me." Eve said lifting her face to stare at Lura, tears now rolling slowly down her dirty cheeks.

Lura moved closer, her eyes having adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the slender legs laying twisted in front of the strange woman. It was obvious that her legs were definitely broken, and in several places. It was also obvious that Eve was in a great deal of pain.

"I think you are right about your legs. I can try to make you more comfortable, but I don't think I should try to move them too much. I would be afraid of causing more damage." Lura offered moving closer still.

Eve nodded her consent and braced herself for the pain she was sure would follow as Lura helped her straighten to a more comfortable sitting position. She tried bravely not to scream when her legs were jarred but a squeal of pain eased past her lips as the broken bones touched. Finally, she was upright, trembling, nauseas and pale, but upright. It took some time and teeth grinding, but the throbbing eased and became bearable and she turned to thank her temporary nurse.

"I am not sure where you came from, but thank you. You are definitely a wonderful site in this dark prison." Eve said smiling at the pretty blond. She was strangely dressed for a woman but her Rebecca wore trousers and she was definitely all woman. Well times were changing and strange events often called for strange adjustments she though. "Might I ask your name?" Eve said, her voice still tight from the pain.

Lura blushed realizing that she was staring, but it wasn't everyday you met one of your ancestors. "I'm sorry; I guess I forgot to tell you in all the confusion." Lura smiled, "My name is Lura Grant, I am visiting your country from the United States." Lura offered her hand and was pleasantly surprised when it was grasped in a small, but warm one.

Well, that was different. I kinda expected it to be cold and clammy. Lura thought. Well what the hell do I know; I never shook hands with a ghost before. This thought made her smile, whether it was out of relief or fear, she was unsure.

"Ah, Eve, do you have any idea how you got here or what brought me here?" Lura asked kneeling to readjust the rags that Eve was laying on.

"Well, I was going for more food for the German soldiers and ... I think I fell down the stairs, but I don't have any idea how I got into the storage room. As far as your timely arrival, I must have blacked out because it seemed that one minute I was here alone and the next, you were here. I couldn't tell you any more. I do know that I have to get out of here, Rebecca will be worried and she has no idea that we have been invaded. If the Germans spot her they may...they will... Well I don't think it will turn out well." Eve paused here staring down at her hands, dirty and scratched from her fall. There was a time when her appearance had meant so much. A time when what others though of her meant more to her than almost anything, then she met Rebecca.

"Lura, have you ever met anyone that just turned your knees to water and makes your heart leap in your chest?" Eve asked, her eyes still downcast at her hands.

Lura watched Eve's eyes as the brunettes' lips curled into a gentle smile and her fingers traced the lines on her palms.

"When I married the late Lord Cameron, I expected to feel the earth move and my heart sore when we made love the first time. Well, it never happened and I though that perhaps the dreams of my childhood were just that, dreams. But I met someone, someone who thrilled me, someone who made all those feelings happen. I have never felt such a deep love before nor have I felt such passion, all this wrapped in a beautiful body. I had no idea a woman can bring such passion out in me." Eve lifted her eyes to those of the blond. "Do I shock you Lura? The idea of two women together, does it repel you?" She stared into Lura's eyes, this small brave woman with the broken limbs. For all her soft speech, there was a steel hard touch to her words, a feeling that Lura felt she needed to respond to.

"No, loving a woman doesn't shock me at all, my life mate is a woman and I see nothing wrong with loving her." Lura sat down next to Eve and smiled at the darker woman. "My Dylan tells me that we were destine to be together, I couldn't imagine going through life without her. I think my spirit would shrivel and die. No, the idea doesn't shock me, I believe that souls call to each other and I don't think that you have any control over what package that soul comes in." Lura smiled turning to face Eve. "I believe that if the Great Spirit had wanted it differently, she would have made it so and anyone who says otherwise within my hearing can deal with me or my Hawk." Lura grinned wickedly.

Eve grinned back at this strange American. "Great Spirit? Humm, yes I suppose so." She chuckled lying back against the rags almost relieved that her secret was out. She was glad that she had told Lura. It was as if the opinion of this stranger meant something to her. Silly idea she though but still, she was happy to have been accepted by this American.

"You know, my Rebecca speaks very highly of Americans. She tells me that you have a spirit and courage unlike any she has seen. I think I understand what she means." Eve smiled.

Well that was a surprise. I wonder if Aunt Mattie knew about that? Lura thought reaching over to wrap a comforting arm around Eve's slender shoulders. We might as well get comfortable. I'm not really sure why I'm here or how long I have to stay but I don't think it will be dull. She sighed and pulled several rags over them both as they huddled there in the dark.

In the stillness of the forest Dylan sat on a fallen tree beside a woman long dead drawing troop movements in the sand and discussing the strategies and tactics of combat. She was impressed with the natural abilities Rebecca seemed to have in understanding troop movements and placement of strategic weapons. Though they differed in the use of some weapons they found themselves in agreement more often than not.

"I agree with you on the tactics of trench warfare, but there is little hope of any other sort of stategy when it comes to fighting on open ground. It isn't as if we can attack the enemy from afar." Rebecca said as she rubbed out an entire company of soldiers with the toe of her boot.

If she only knew that modern killing was almost that simple. Dylan thought staring down at the now smooth sand. Now wiping out an entire Company, Hell and entire Brigade is as simple as the brush of a boot. No mess, no fuss and you don't evne have to see them bleed,...well at least not right away. She added silently.

"So, why are you here Reb?" Dylan asked drawing circles in the sand. "I noticed your limp earlier. Were you injured shuffling papers?" She grinned knowing from their conversation that Rebecca had probably seen some combat. She was surprised when the redhead turned pale and swayed a bit. She reached out a hand to steady her, half expecting to feel cold flesh as best or for her hand to pass through the other woman at worst. What she felt was a warm firmly muscled arm under her fingertips.

"I'm sorry if my question upset you, I meant no harm." Dylan said truly sorry that she had been the cause of Rebecca's distress.

"No, it's alright, I just felt like...like. Oh, never mind, you will think that my mind is as weak as my legs." Rebecca smile sadly, unsure of how to express what was happening in her head. For days now she had been disturbed by visions of war, death and destruction. At times she felt as if she were back, on the battle field, digging through the dirt trying to reach...what? A person, a body, a figment of her troubled imagination? No, it would not be good to tell this woman her troubles, she would not understand. Rebecca looked down at her hands, the fingers so strong, capable of healing, and as she well knew, killing.

"You have visions don't you Rebecca." Dylan said still doodling in the sand. "You think you see things that can't possibly be there. But they are so real you feel as if you could reach out and touch them." Dylan went on still drawing in the sand. "Believe me, I understand, you aren't really seeing things, you are seeing memories, sudden flashes of things from your past. Bad things, things that you did or saw, it all seems so real. One minute you are walking down a path in a beautiful peaceful forest, the next you are in the middle of a fight for your life. Yeah, I know what you are going through, we have a name for it in America, we call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD and it is one bad side affect of war. I know, I have it." Dylan said softly.

"You see the visions too? But how, why, you have been in the desert, that is a safe area now. The British Royal Army and the Legionnaires made sure of that." Rebecca said turning to stare at Dylan.

"Well, there's the catch, it would seem that you and I have something in common." Dylan smiled wryly. "You see Rebecca, I have seen combat too, at it has a very ugly face, but no worries, things seem to work themselves out." Dylan added turning to gaze down at her doodle, a heart with Lura's name in the center.

Rebecca's eyes followed Dylan's back to the dirt at their feet. She smiled at the drawing. "It would seem we have more in common than I first though." She said grinning now at the handsome American.

Dylan nodded and grinned back.

Chapter 31

Sometime after her talk with Eve Lura drifted off again this time she dreamed of a small brunette and a tall long legged redhead. The dreams were pleasant, the two women were in love and their world was full of softness and music. She watched them from a place that seemed to be just above their heads, she was an intruder, sneaking in to peek at the lovers as they moved through their lives.

The two women were laughing, walking through the garden pausing along the way to kiss or hold each other. A touch here, a peck on the cheek, a loving glance from the corner of green eyes, a gentle smile from soft pink lips. Lura watched it all until the tall woman left, she walked out the front door with a kiss and a wave. The dark haired woman returned the wave from her porch, watching as the redhead disappeared into the forest. There was a period where the dream seemed to end, she rolled over and stretched out, feeling warm and happy. Then the dream started again but this time it had turned dark and ugly.

Lura watched from what seemed the outside of the manor. Someone was knocking on the door and the dark woman, the one she knew as Eve open the door smiling. She remembered this part of the dream and she knew that Eve expected Rebecca to be standing on the other side, but what she found was a group of strangers. Men with German accents and strange clothing, they pushed past the small woman and entered the house. Lura felt Eve's panic; she knew these men were somehow responsible for Eve's death. She watched as the tale unfolded, it was distant and jumbled and this time she was not seeing it through Eve's eyes. She watched as Eve tried to get the men to leave, feeding them and offering them more if they would leave but the men were tired and wanted to rest. They seemed to be worried about some strange box that they had carried into the house. Two men guarded the box keeping it in sight and covered with a large oil cloth. The box seemed small but extremely heavy, this was the first time Lura had noticed it in any of her dreams.

She watched the men scramble for the food Eve had prepared; they ate as if they had not seen food in days. The man that seemed to be in charge said something to Eve but the woman did not understand. Lura could not quite make out the words, she seemed to be hearing things in distant mumbled tones, tones that were harsh and angry. One young man argued with the leader but finally consented leaving to speak to the woman Eve. Lura could sense Eve's rising panic as the small woman hussled about the kitchen preparing more food. She watched as Eve headed towards a door in the large kitchen, a door that Lura did not remember being there. She watched as a young German soldier bumped into Eve, the stunned look of horror on his face was burned into her memory. This 'boy man' had not intended to hurt Eve; the Germans had not known that the small woman was still alive as they buried her.

Lura watched as the men searched the land near the house finally venturing into the countryside collecting stones from places they hoped would not be noticed. She saw the sad young man tenderly carry a carved stone from a fallen grave marker back to the house. Her heart hurt as she watched them seal the body of Eve and the strange box behind a wall of stone and rubble entombing them both behind a Celtic knot.

Dylan and Rebecca sat on the log talking softly about the women they loved. It was obvious to Dylan that Rebecca was truly happy, like Dylan she had found the one person that was destine to be her life mate. Dylan smiled as Rebecca went on and on about her Eve, the softness of her hair, the beauty of her smile the way her laughter seemed to make the day brighter.

Dylan could not tell this happy woman that she was destine to die here in this forest, to never see her soul mate again. There had to be something she could do, some way she could stop the events of the past from happening.

Dylan thought of the attack, picturing herself stepping in and saving Rebecca. What harm would it do to let the two women live together again. This Eve was obviously connected somehow to the pain and nightmares her Lura was suffering from so if she interfered in the past would it prevent the events of the future? Should she try?

"What the...I am sure that I must be seeing things." Rebecca said, drawing Dylan's wandering mind from its thoughts. "Do you see that, I'm sure all those beasties were killed a few hundred years ago." Rebecca said pointing at a large white wolf.

"Um, yes well that is my pet, she travels wherever I go." Dylan said watching as the large wolf loped forward her head down her strange eyes making contact with Dylan's.

The wolf stopped in front of the tall American, she stared deeply into Dylan's eyes and she knew, it was time to go. There would be no changing the past. She would have to leave, now and Rebecca would continue her walk into the woods and straight into a German ambush. Rebecca would die again, she would never return to the manor.

Dylan stood and held out her hand, pulling Rebecca to her feet. "Well, it seems that I have to go now, I think Lura is waiting." She told the redhead shaking the soldiers hand.

"Ah yes, the enchanting little blond." Rebecca smiles and winked at Dylan. "I understand. I had better finish my walk, I'm sure my Eve is home waiting and worrying about me." She waved a jaunty salute and turned to continue her walk. "Best of all to you and your love Dylan, I won't forget you." She called back over her shoulder.

"And I will never forget you Rebecca." Dylan said as she waved back.

The wolf reached up and nudged Dylan's hip forcing the woman to turn and head back into the mist. As she reached the edge of the fog bank Dylan stopped and glanced back. She couldn't seem to help herself. She watched as the men in grey leapt from the tree line onto the redhead. She heard the fight, the breaking of bones and the moans of pain and surprise as the men discovered the gender of the soldier in the tan uniform. Tears rolled gently down Dylan's cheeks as she watched them dig a grave on the edge of the wood line and gently place Rebecca's body in it. Then the images faded hidden by the fog and mist. She turned back and followed the wolf back to the small blue car that now seemed to be parked on a brightly lit road. She got in brushing the tears from her eyes and cheeks as she cranked up the Mini and turned the car back towards the manor.

Eve sat up in bed her mind a jumble of memories. She glance around the room looking for something familiar, it was all familiar now, but different. The walls had not moved but the furniture was wrong. Glancing around she realized that some pieces had been moved and others were gone all together. Gradually she knew that these memories were not hers, they were Eve's, what she was remembering were the memories of Lady Cameron.

Throwing the covers back she slipped out of bed as she stood her legs collapsed under her the pain that shot through them making her gasp. She reached down to rub them only to find her own touch caused an instant painful reaction. Moaning she lay back against the bed frame and waited.

Dylan pulled the car into the drive and cut the engine, she had a lot to think about and a lot to tell Lura. She knew now that the woman in the forest, the one that seemed to haunt her was Lady Cameron's lover, Rebecca. There had been no mention of a Rebecca in any of the documents they had read, only the story of a soldier that had been recovering in the manor. The fact that the soldier was a woman had been mentioned but there had been no tales of the two women being lovers, nor anything that explained what had happened to the soldier. Now she knew the truth and she was anxious to let Lura know.

Dylan parked the car and cut the engine, unfolding her tall frame from the car she stretched and wiped her face. It had been a long emotional day and she had no wish to disturb her mate by appearing with tear streaks on her face. She walked to the door and into the manor. Stopping by the kitchen she got out two glasses and filled them with cold milk, she placed the glasses on a tray and soon added a small plate of cookies, biscuits as the Scots liked to call them. Smiling she carried the tray up to the room she shared with Lura and tapped gently on the door.

Lura was happy to hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs and knew that Dylan was back. She always knew when the dark woman was near, it was like a second sense to her. The soldier tapped softly on the door and Lura called out to her. The doorknob turned and a pair of startlingly blue eyes quickly scanned the bed then darted straight to the small woman sitting on the floor.

Dylan rushed across the room, setting the tray on the bed as she squatted beside Lura. "Honey are you alright? What happened, what are you doing out of bed?" The anxious woman asked.

"Well let's see if I can get this right." Lura chuckled. "Yes, except my legs don't seem to want to work right. I fell down and I need to go to the bathroom. How's that? I think I got all the questions right." Lura smiled.

Dylan smiled back then bent to help Lura to her feet. Easing the blond back onto the bed she knelt again to gently check the woman's slender legs. The bruising she found there and the hiss of pain her touch brought did not surprise her. Apparently, Lura had been visited again by the same spirits as the ones that had caused the other bruises.

"Alright, you can't walk on these legs right now honey so how about I carry you to the bathroom? I can wait by the door and you call me when you are done." Dylan offered.

Lura nodded and lifted her arms as Dylan bent to pick her up. Gently lifted Lura from the bed and carried her to the bathroom, she set the blond on the toilet and left, pulling the door shut behind her. A few minutes later the toilet flushed and Lura called out. Dylan entered the room and scooped up her wife. Carrying her back to the bed she gently sat her down, propping pillows up behind her back, Dylan covered the bruised legs with the blankets and pulled up a chair. Finally both women were comfortable, Dylan passed Lura a glass of milk and offered her the plate of cookies, pleased to see her partner quickly pluck two of the treats, slipping one into her mouth and holding the other. She spoke as she crunched on the cookie.

"Dylan you are not going to believe what happened while you were gone." She began.

"Oh, I think I might honey." Dylan smiled waiting for Lura to continue. The blond told her about the dreams pausing occasionally to sip on the milk or nibble on the second cookie.

"And Dylan there is a basement, somewhere in the kitchen there is a hidden door. It must have been covered up when renovations were made and no one seems to even know it's there." She paused here, her throat suddenly choked she lowered the cookie back to the plate. "Dylan, Eve is here. She is buried here in the house. I think that is why she haunts this place, she can't seem to leave because her body is here buried behind a wall in the basement." She said raising sad tearful eyes to Dylan's.

"Humm, well that does explain what seems to be happening to you. Eve's injuries from her fall seem to be echoed on your body. I don't like it, but at least now I understand it. The bruises may go away when we get you out of this house." Dylan said.

"No, Dylan I can't leave, at least not yet. We have to find her. We have to find Eve. It just isn't right to leave her here buried behind some wall in the basement. We have to get her out of here." Lura said softly her eyes glazing over as she remembered the gentle face of Lady Eve.

"Alright honey, we can try, but I think there is more to her story than what you have seen." Dylan said staring down at the milk in her glass.

"What happened Dylan? I know that look so you might as well tell me." Lura said folding her arms across her chest she tilted her head and waited.

Dylan smiled at her wife, she certainly was a stubborn little thing. She knew that Lura would not budge until she heard the whole story so, resigned to telling her, Dylan sipped her milk and sat back to begin Rebecca's story.

Chapter 32

"So what you are telling me is that these two women were lovers? How come no ever told us?" Lura asked her voice stunned.

"Well, to tell ya the truth honey, I don't think anyone knew. They both died before they had a chance to tell anyone and remember back then, two women together was not exactly something that was talked about. I mean even after World War Two Marlena Dietrich never told anyone about her love affairs with women." Dylan said downing the last of her milk.

"Yeah, that's true." Lura agreed. "Well, I think the reason Eve and Rebecca still haunt this place is because they need to be together. I mean Eve has no idea that Rebecca died before she could make it back home." Lura explained.

"I agree." Dylan said. "I know that Rebecca has no idea that Eve died that day. Maybe if we find them and put them together their spirits can rest." Dylan added.

"I hope so Dylan, but ya know I don't think Eve and Rebecca are the only ones haunting this house. I think the Germans are still here." Lura said glancing around the room

"The German Sailors? Why would they be here honey? We aren't even sure what happened to them." Dylan said.

"Well, I think that they buried that box I told you about with Eve. I think they are here guarding it just like they did when they were alive." She whispered as if the ghosts could hear her.

"Well that might explain some things." Dylan agreed. "I don't think that Eve is the type of woman who would want to cause you pain. I think maybe this is the only way the German Sailors can communicate. After all I don't think they would be able to speak to us in English. From what you told me I think the second dream you had was courtesy of the German Navy. I think the sailors wanted someone to know that they didn't murder Eve, that Lady Eve's death was an accident." Dylan said voicing her rambling thoughts. "I know they had no idea that Rebecca was a woman. Lura you should have heard their voices, I mean, I don't know what they were saying but the looks on their faces, the way they buried Rebecca. It all adds up. They didn't come here to kill two innocent women. They were here because they had no choice. Eve and Rebecca's deaths were both cruel accidents." Dylan looked up into sad green eyes, her own eyes a mirror image of the grief she saw there. "I think the Germans want someone to know what happened here. The question now is do they want us to find the bodies? I mean, I think they wouldn't try to stop me from finding Rebecca, but Eve is buried with their gold. The gold that cost two women and the crew of the German sub their lives." She mused aloud.

"I don't know Dylan, I mean I don't see why not. The war is over, the gold won't do the German government any good. I would think they would be tired of guarding it by now, don't you?" She asked.

"Well, normally I would say yes, but you have to remember honey, neither Eve or Rebecca knew the war was over. They had no idea or concept of time. What makes you think the Germans will?" She asked.

"You have a point there." Lura agreed. "Maybe we should just leave things as they are and let the authorities handle this whole thing. I'm sure that they will take care of things...sooner or later."

That was when they heard the scream. Dylan sprang from her seat and headed towards the door only to have it slam open inches from her nose.

Mrs. McDougal flew into the room her arms waving in the air as she ran head on into a stunned Dylan.

"God's above! Save me! Save me!" she squealed into Dylan's ears as she threw her arms around the stunned soldiers neck and did her best impersonation of a cat climbing a tree as she tried to crawl up Dylan's long body and apparently onto her shoulders.

Dylan stood there stunned as the grey haired housekeeper held her in a strangle hold.

Lura stared in disbelief at the scene in front of her then began to laugh aloud at the site.

By the time Dylan had the hysterical woman unwrapped from around her body and seated in the chair she had been occupying minutes before, Lura was leaning precariously on the edge of the bed, one arm wrapped around her ribcage gasping for breath and doing her best to use her free hand to wipe the tears of laughter from her face.

Dylan frowned at her wife then knelt beside the distraught housekeeper. "Calm down Mrs. McDougal." She said in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. "What is going on? What are you running from?" she asked, gently rubbing the older woman's hand.

"Wolf, big, grey wolf!" The housekeeper gasped. "Wolf in my kitchen!" She exclaimed as she turned to stare at the doorway. "We have to get out of here, call the constables. There aren't supposed to be any wolves left in Scotland. They were all killed years ago! What is it doing here?" She said her frightened eyes darting from the door to Dylan.

"Well, that's kinda um, difficult to explain." Dylan began. She stopped when she found Mrs. McDougal out of the chair and once again attempting to climb her like the great Alps.

"It's back! The wolf is back! Save yourselves, save yourselves." She called out as she scrambled over Dylan and onto the bed on her way towards the window.

"Stop, Mrs. McDougal! Stop, it's okay, we know her. We know the wolf!" Lura called to the terrified woman as Dylan rushed around the bed to grapple the housekeeper off the windowsill.

"Calm down Mrs. McDougal, it's okay. We know the wolf, it's okay." Dylan yelled at the distraught housekeeper.

Finally the words of reason seemed to sink in and the released her death grip on the windowsill.

A laughing Lura turned her tear filled eyes towards the door as the large wolf entered the room. So this is Dylan's totem spirit? She is very beautiful. Lura though, but her silent conversation was ended when the wolf turned stunning eyes in Lura's direction and lolled out her tongue in a canine smile. Oh my God, I think she can hear me! Lura though as she watched the wolf throw back her head as if to nod in agreement.

"Umm, Dylan, I think you need to turn around" she said, her voice sounding amazed.

Dylan turned to stare at the doorway and was surprised to see the wolf there, golden eyes staring into hers.

I think she wants me to stay here. Dylan thought. At least until we get this problem with the ghosts settled.

Dylan wasn't surprise when the wolf nodded her head. Now that her wishes were known, she turned and with a flip of her tail, she trotted from the room. Dylan ran to the door to stare out seeing exactly what she expected to see, an empty hallway, and no sign of a wolf.

Chapter 33

"Is it gone?" Mrs. McDougal asked from her hiding place beside Lura's bed.

"Yes, she's gone." Dylan sighed a bit disappointed. She never seemed to get anytime with the wolf and she really had some questions for her. She shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the two women in the room, one pale with fear the other red with laughter.

"Lura are you okay?" Dylan asked already sure of the answer a smile creasing her face at the sound of Lura's happy chuckle.

"Well, I see no reason for laughter, young Miss." Mrs. McDougal scolded. "That giant beastie was nothing to laugh about. If it hadn't been for Miss Dylan, bless her soul, it could have ripped our throats out." The grey haired woman said, her hand unconsciously lifting to rub her pale throat in reassurance.

"No need to thank me Mrs. McDougal, believe me it she had wanted to kill us we would all be dead now." She said turning to stare again down the hall unaware of the stunned house keeper who found her legs suddenly to weak to hold her up.

"What Dylan means, Mrs. McDougal is that the wolf is no danger to us." Lura added patting the pale woman's hand as she sat on the bed. "Dylan knows that wolf; she is... well sort of an old friend." She stopped here as the housekeeper turned stunned eyes towards the small blond, both eyebrows raised in shock and doubt.

"Well, it's...how can I say this? It's a bit technical but the wolf and Dylan have an understanding. You see it really isn't a wolf. Well not a wolf like you know wolves. Umm, this really isn't coming out well at all." Lura mused aloud.

"It's my guardian, my totem." Dylan offered in way of explanation. "She follows me and guards me, well sort of. She helps lead me on the right path. She would never harm you at least she won't as long as you don't harm me or Lura." Dylan added finally giving up on the hall and moving back into the room. "I met her some time ago, when I was going through a difficult period in my life. She came to me to help me deal with some issues I still have unresolved." Dylan said sitting again in the chair.

"Ah, you mean like a Spirit?" Mrs. McDougal asked smiling at Lura's nod. "Well, why didn't you tell me? You had me scared out of what wits I have left." The housekeeper said standing and brushing off her skirt. "We Scots know about spirits, ghost and goolies and things that go bump in the night. You should have told me Miss Dylan." She scolded the confused brunette. "What? Oh, you think we here in the Highlands have no idea of spirits? Well, we know all about the spirits, we have had spirits in the Highlands since time began. It's just our are normal, headless ghosties the occasional hung highwayman, the occasional wild haired Scottish warrior, all normal spirits. These beastie spirits though, no, we have none of that here." She mumbled. "Not that I don't think those giant black cats aren't some sort of ghosts but I have never seen them you know." She said tapping her lip with a gnarled finger. "But you Miss Dylan." She resumed her scolding tone. "You should have told me about your wolf beastie. Allowing a poor helpless woman to be frightened out of her mind." She mumbled as she headed out the door. "For shame Miss Dylan. All you needed to do was warn me that your beastie was planning a visit. Humph, well I suppose her being a ghost and all; she wouldn't have sent you a notice. No, probably not." The woman continued out the door and down the hall. "In that case I suppose I can forgive you this time, but, please a bit of a reminder next time if you don't mind." She yelled back down the hall as she descended the stairs still muttering under her breath.

Lura fell over again, laughter erupting from her as she rolled on the bed. Dylan shut the door hoping to keep the laughter from reaching the already irritated housekeeper. "So you find that funny do now Missy?" she questioned Lura imitating the housekeepers accent perfectly as she strolled towards the bed.

Lura stopped laughing long enough to raise her head and nod, tears again streaming down her face as she tried desperately to hold back the laughter.

"Well, I think you need to be punished for laughing at a poor half witted housekeeper." Dylan said as she launched her body onto the bed and wrapped long arms around her partner.

"NO!" Lura squealed as she felt Dylan's fingers tickling her ribs.

Squealing loudly she swatted at the hands that seemed to be everywhere laughing as they found a ticklish spot again and again.

"If you don't stop, I'm going to pee my pants!" Lura threatened as she wrapped small hands around larger ones still laughing at Dylan's antics.

"Well we can't have that Dylan said as she scooped the blond up again and headed towards the bathroom. "There is a proper place for everything." She said kicking open the bathroom door and plopping the teary eyed blond back on the toilet seat.

Women, gotta love em' Dylan though with a smile.

Chapter 34

The next morning Dylan and a recovering Lura began a search of the kitchen. Lura had told Dylan about the renovations that had hidden the door to the basement; they were now in the kitchen tapping on walls. Mrs. McDougal looked on in frustrated silence.

"You know this could move a bit faster if you would just tell me what you might be searching for Missy." The housekeeper said, still a bit peeved at the two women.

"Well actually Mrs. McDougal, I am not sure if you can help or even if it is good for you to. We have no idea what the repercussions may be." Lura said ominously from her seat at the kitchens' large ancient butcher block table. Dylan had insisted that Lura stay off of her feet as much as possible since it had only been last night that she had been unable to walk at all.

Mrs. McDougal huffed from her corner of the kitchen as she watched the tall brunette tapping the wall beside her very large, very modern silver freezer.

"Actually Lura, I think we should ask Mrs. McDougal, she might know were the door is. Plus we wouldn't want any more surprises like yesterday now would we?" She smiled sweetly at the housekeeper.

"Maybe your right Dylan, after all Mrs. McDougal is a valuable part of this whole story." Lura nodded.

The two women had decided earlier that morning to try to persuade the feisty housekeeper to help them, but after the fiasco with the wolf spirit, they were not very sure of her willingness. It had been Lura's idea to get the housekeeper to ask them to join in the hunt and it had been Dylan's idea to start by invading the housekeeper's most sacred sanctuary, the kitchen. The two Americans had descended on the chrome and white sterilized room like invaders attacking the dragons' den.

Dylan had counted down the seconds silently in her head, five, four, three, two, one, and the shit hits the fan. Dylan thought, as the kitchen door swung open and an irritated housekeeper stormed in.

"Here now, what might it be that you two are looking for." Mrs. McDougal said angrily from the doorway.

This would have been quite a dramatic entrance if the door had not swung back and slapped the posturing housekeeper square in the rear.

Lura tried valiantly to stifle a laugh when Mrs. McDougal hopped forward holding her ample posterior with both hands and staring angrily first at the small blond then at the tall brunette.

Dylan did her best to ignore what she had seen as she swiftly turned back to the wall and attempted to continue her tapping all the while her shoulders bounced with silent laughter.

That had led to their present postions, Lura sitting at the table trying not to let the tears of laughter roll down her cheeks, her face red with restraint.

Dylan was tapping on the wall farthest away from both women in order to hide her laughter from one and avoid the dagger like looks from the other.

Mrs. McDougal, having recovered from her unexpected spanking was now several steps from the door, her arms folded as she waited for one of the young women to tell her what was going on.

Finally Lura having gathered her composure turned to face the still angry housekeeper. "I am so sorry Mrs. McDougal, perhaps you can help us. You see, I keep having this dream. It has kept me from sleeping the last few nights. I dreamt that Lady Eve Cameron, you know, the one who is the ghost?" Lura added for extra drama. She waited for Mrs. McDougal to nod in understanding before she continued. "Well, I dreamt she fell down a flight of stairs somewhere here in the kitchen. That is how she died in my dream." Lura looked up at the now very interested housekeeper, trying to show as much concern as possible. Gotcha! She thought as the housekeeper dropped her arms and her jaw.

Mrs. McDougal felt her heart jump. Ghosts, they were talking about the ghosts. All of her life she had heard the tales of Cameron Hall and all her life she had wanted to help solve the mystery of the beautiful Lady Eve. Now these two Americans had part of the clue and they wanted her help.

Excitedly the housekeeper crossed the room, pulled out a chair and joined Lura at the table. "Yes, yes, go on. What about Lady Eve. I know all the stories, and the history of this place, so ask away." She said excitedly.

"Well, I had, um,...been told by a very reliable source that this kitchen is part of the original manor and that it had been renovated years ago." Lura said.

"Yes, that's true. The old kitchen had a huge cooking pit over by that wall." Mrs. McDougal said turning in her chair to point towards the beautiful and very modern chrome stove, missing the hand and eye signal given to Lura by a clowning Dylan. "And there is a old wine cellar under here as well." Mrs. McDougal went on tapping her foot on the floor. She had completely missed the frantic signaling performance behind her back.

"A wine cellar?" Lura said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Did you say there's a wine cellar bellow this floor?" She asked grinning.

"Yes, indeed. It was right behind the freezer, the door has been walled up." She went on absentmindedly. "Ya see Miss Matilda had it done when Miss Lizabeth took a tumble down the stairs in the main hall. She was afraid that Miss Lizabeth would try to go down to the old wine cellar and the stairs there were nearly gone. Miss Matilda had some workmen come in and move all the wine up to the new wine room. That's the old housekeeper's rooms. She had it converted after she had my little cottage built." Mrs. McDougal smiled as she rambled on. "Anyway she had the workmen seal off the old cellar door and we put the freezer there to hide the construction." She explained.

"HOOAHH!" Dylan yelled rushing back to the freezer pressing her cheek close to the wall in an attempt to see behind it.

"All Right!" Lura yelped jumping from her chair to join Dylan.

Mrs. McDougal followed the two women to the freezer and watched their strange antics for a few minutes. Dylan pulled away from the wall and started looking around the room.

"Now if we can just find something to use to pry that thing from the wall we can get started." She told Lura.

"Yeah, I can't wait to see what we find." Lura said joining her partner to search the room. In their excitement, neither woman noticed the housekeeper as Mrs. McDougal walked calmly to the freezer, flipped the latch on the door locking it closed and, with one hand, swung the huge machine away from the wall.

"Now, will there be any other little thing I can help you ladies with?" A grinning housekeeper asked.

"Well, do you have a...how did you do that?" Lura asked stunned.

Dylan turned around and nearly tripped over her jaw when she saw the freezer had been moved a good four feet from the wall. Wow, either she's a lot stronger than she looks or that thing is on wheels. She thought walking towards the grinning housekeeper and the huge freezer.

"Well, I must say Mrs. McDougal; I truly underestimated your muscles, though I should have learned by now, to never underestimate you." Dylan added with a smile and a bow in the now blushing housekeepers direction.

"To tell ya the truth Miss, the blasted thing is on wheels. Miss Matilda got tired of moving it for me to clean under and had some gentlemen in to put it on rollers so I could move it myself. She was a grand lady, Miss Lura, a grand lady and I do miss her dearly." Mrs. McDougal sighed stepping away from the freezer so the two young women could explore the wall behind it.

Dylan rubbed her hands over the plaster that had been hidden by the huge freezer. She tapped along the wall then over the area where the fairly new plaster was, a hollow echo sounded letting them know that the door to the cellar was indeed right behind the wall.

Dylan grinned at Lura and nodded.

"Great! Now Mrs. McDougal we need a big hammer or something to break through this plaster with. Do you know where the tools are kept?" She asked.

"Oh, well I know the Mr. has a set of tools he uses on the cars, but I honestly can't say I remember ever seeing a hammer in his tool box." The housekeeper said walking towards the counter cabinets. "I on the other hand have always felt that a hammer should be kept handy in the kitchen. You never can tell when you might need one to persuade a sneak thief to leave." The older woman said opening a drawer and shifting things around. "Now, where did I leave that blasted thing? Um, beggin' your pardon Miss." Mrs. McDougal said over her shoulder. "Ahh, there you are me little darlin'." She said pulling a rather large and very dangerous looking claw hammer from the drawer and passing it over to Dylan. "Now you be careful with this Miss Dylan." She said.

"No worries Mrs. McDougal" Lura said, "Dylan knows how to handle a hammer. She won't hurt herself." Lura reassured the housekeeper.

"Well, that's nice to know Miss Lura, but it isn't Miss Dylan I'm worried for, it my darlin' hammer. I have grown a bit fond of it over the years." The housekeeper said turning back to her chair at the table to watch the two younger women work.

Lura chuckled and Dylan rolled her eyes at the housekeepers' remarks. Then with a sigh and a hearty swing she began to hammer away at the plaster.

Lura and Mrs. McDougal sat in the kitchen at the large table sipping tea and eating, what the housekeeper called biscuits and Lura knew as crème cookies. They discussed the ghosts and the haunting incidents Mrs. McDougal had either heard about from what she felt were reliable sources, or her personal experiences. Lura soaked in all the information like a sponge, both women ignored the sound of pounding coming from the other end of the kitchen.

Dylan had found a screwdriver and was happily wacking away at the stubborn plaster. The two smaller women were entertained by Dylan's occasional colorful comments when she ran up against a particularly stubborn bit of wall. Lura had to leave the house keeper on several occasions to make Dylan stop for a break and to get the dark woman to drink water. Breaking down a wall that had stood from at least ten years, according to the housekeeper, had been hard work but Dylan seemed to enjoy the actual act of beating the wall into submission. Lura expected that the former soldier was releasing some pent up anger and was very glad to see her doing so in such a sedate manner, well sedate for Dylan.

"HAH!" the brunette yelled, "Gotcha you stubborn son of a..."

"DYLAN!" Lura shouted over her shoulder just in time to prevent her wife from blurting out her thoughts.

"Lura come here, we're in!" Dylan shouted back.

She turned to look at the two women and was not prepared for the howling laughter that followed.

"What?" The confused woman asked. "What's so funny? Lura...Lura, what's so funny?" Dylan asked again as she walked towards the two now hysterical women.

As she passed the freezer she was startled by her reflection in the shiny silver side. She resembled one of the aliens she had seen on a recent all night classic horror show on TV. The entire front of her body was covered in white powder. Her dark hair stuck out in various places, some coated in white while other pieces were still the glossy blue black it had started out to be that morning. Her usually bronze skin was now a sickly pasty white and through it all she peered out at the world, past the white paste and white eyebrows, with startlingly blue eyes. She frowned at her reflection then turned back to the two women, a deep growl rumbled from her throat and the cackling laughter suddenly stopped. Dylan squinted her piercing blue eyes at the two, gracing them with her most intimidating "I'm the Commander" glare, then destroyed the entire façade by turning back to her reflection and falling to the floor in laughter.

Lura finally handed the laughing woman a damp towel to wipe her face with then helped her to her feet. The three sat at the large table for several minutes relaxing and recovering from the laughter. Mrs. McDougal left the room explaining that there was something she wanted to get from her cottage and that she would be back in a few minutes. As she left Lura decided to fill Dylan in on what she had learned.

"Honey, you are not going to believe some of the things Mrs. McDougal told me. Apparently this house has been haunted since Lady Eve disappeared back around 1916 or 1917, some time after the First World War. I asked her if she knew of any ghosts in the forest or if she had any idea who was haunting the house. She says that there really isn't a ghost in the old woods, apparently there is something there but no one knows what it is. There is a story about a soldier staying here to recover but no one in town has ever mentioned if it was a man or a woman, and no one seems to remember any stories about what happened to the soldier. They all say the house was going to be a hospital during the war but there was an incident with some German spies that tried to attack Chambers." Lura told her excitedly.

"Spies, those men weren't spies; they were just lost sailors trying to get home." Dylan interjected.

"I know that Honey, but the towns people didn't. According to Mrs. McDougal the story is that some German spies tried to take over Chambers. They did something to Lady Eve and no one knows what that was, but they did know that some African Americans soldiers came by from the local military hospital and discovered the Germans. Apparently there was a small skirmish here and all the Germans were killed except one, he had been captured roaming somewhere in the countryside and was shipped to London for some sort of interrogation. That is all anyone seems to know. Oh, and she said that no one has any idea what happened to Lady Eve. Some folks seem to think the Germans killed her or captured her and sent her to Germany, but since no one ever saw her again they all figured she was dead. You know it is all kinda spooky. I mean the ghosts, you know the one in the woods and Lady Eve and now I really think the reason I have these bruises is because of the German Sailors. I mean think about it, they died here. They probably were just trying to guard the box downstairs and that is why they are still here." Lura finished excitedly.

"Yeah, I figure the reason that your second dream was courtesy of the Germans, I mean how else could they tell you what they did? These are Germans who probably never learned English so they couldn't speak to you in your language. They had to get their point across some how and the dream and the bruises were the only way they could do that." Dylan paused here and looked around the room. "If you guys are there, we got your point so stop with the nightmares and the beating up my wife or so help me I will get an exorcist in here and boot all your little foggy asses out!" Dylan warned.

Chapter 35

Mrs. McDougal soon returned with a large black flashlight.

"I am not sure but I don't think there is any light down there now, the bulb is probably dead if there is a bulb there." She said. "Take this and be very careful, the old stairs were in really bad shape when Miss Mattie had that place covered up, I suspect they are all but gone now." She added passing the flashlight to Dylan.

Dylan nodded her thanks and with the hammer in one hand and the flashlight in the other she headed towards the old battered cellar door.

"Hold on Honey, I'm coming with you." Lura said, "And don't even start with the 'Stay here where it's safe.' Shit, I so don't want to hear it." She said snatching the light from Dylan's hand and grabbing the door knob.

Dylan batted her hand away from the knob and waited whiled Lura flicked on the flashlight. Slowly she opened the door, the beam of light cut through the darkness and lit the broken stairs leading into the cellar.

Dylan wiped away some of the cobwebs that hung near the top of the doorway grinning when she heard Lura's loud 'YUCK'. "Well darlin' you wanted to go with me, so enjoy the adventure." Dylan chuckled.

She stepped out to place one foot on the top stair but changed her mind. Kneeling she gently tapped the first step, the rotted wood creaked but held. She tapped harder on the second step and heard the ominous sound of cracking. This was defiantly not good, she reached up and tapped the ancient railing that ran the length of the wall, it seemed to be in much better shape than the stairs.

"The railing should be sound, Miss Mattie had it replaced just a few months before the she had the wall put up." The housekeeper said from her place behind Lura.

"Thanks for the info Mrs. McDougal, and by the way, you are not going." Dylan said over her shoulder.

"No worries on that Miss Dylan, I have seen the cellar and I have no great wish to break any of my working parts seeing it again." The housekeeper replied. "I'll wait here and have some nice fresh tea for you two when you get back." She added

"Lura, I am going to go first, you follow, hold onto the railing and walk close to the wall. Follow in my footsteps." Dylan told her wife.

"You got it." Lura responded. "You be careful too honey, I just got you all healed up and I have no desire to go through that again." She added remembering that Dylan was by far the worse 'patient' she had ever dealt with. Nope, a happy healthy Dylan is a lot more fun that a cranky, irritable, grouchy Dylan. She thought. Well, Hell for that matter a Civilian Hawke is definitely a lot more fun than a Captain Hawke, though the Captain does have it,s umm advantages.

Dylan was just about to try the first step when she heard Lura sigh.

"If you are tired Honey we can go to bed and do this tomorrow." Dylan offered concerned.

"Humm, you, me and a warm bed verses you and me and a cold clammy cellar. Let me think on that a second. Bed equals warmth and neeked wife verse cellar which equals cold wet and fully clothed wife." Lura gave Dylan a grinning leer and a wiggling brow.

"Never mind." Dylan said, "I only offered because I though you were tired. If your mind is where I think it is tired is not exactly what you are feeling right now." Dylan chuckled turning back to continue her cautious way down the stairs, a disappointed by still grinning Lura following closely behind.

Each step creaked ominously as first Dylan then Lura put weight on it. Dylan felt one step give and she gripped the wooden railing tensing her arms and hands for the expected fall, but as her foot slipped through the wooden stair it stopped suddenly as it came in contact with stone.

"Lura, hand me your flashlight." She said holding up one hand towards her trembling wife.

"Are you okay Dylan? I thought I heard the stair give." Lura said carefully passing the light to Dylan and taking the hammer.

"You did, but there is something here that stopped my fall. I think it may be another set of stairs." Dylan replied as the turned the light on the stair her foot had just passed through.

The light revealed a dark grey stone stair beneath the rotted wooden one. The stair had a deep hollow in its top, worn there by the fall of hundreds of feet over time.

"This is really curious, the wooden stairs are actually built over the original stone stairs. These are a lot like the stairs in the great hall but they are in really sad shape." Dylan told Lura.

"Why would someone do that Dylan? Build wooden stairs over the stronger stone stair?" Lura asked leaning precariously forward to get a better look.

"I have no idea Honey but it looks like we should still be careful. These old stone stairs can be slippery with mold; some may have even disintegrated to dust so let's move as if they weren't there okay." Dylan said handing the light back to Lura and resuming her cautious way down the stairs.

As the two women reached the bottom stair Dylan felt her foot again slip through the step and hit stone. Taking the light she focused the beam on the bottom rung until Lura had passed it then ran the light up the stairs. Even in the dim light she could make out the stone stairway under bits of wooden stair. There appeared to be a dark stain on the several of the steps and a larger stain on the floor where they now stood. Dylan had seen enough stains like this to know what it was.

"Blood, that's why these wooden stairs are here. It looks as if someone took a really nasty fall here on the old stone stairs. There is a lot of blood here Lura, I would guess the person who fell here either died here or suffered some really serious injuries."

"Eve?" Lura guessed

Dylan shrugged her shoulders. "There is no telling how long these stains have been here but I would guess that if Lady Eve had fallen here the new owners would have cleaned up the blood." Dylan said thinking aloud. "Come on Lura lets go find your ghost."

Dylan turned away from the stairs and taking Lura's hand, led the way deeper into the dank cellar.

"Da da deedum, deedum, deedum, deedum, deedum deedum deedummm, dadada deedum." Lura sang.

"The Pink Panther theme? Lura?" Dylan chuckled squeezing her mates' hand.

"Hey I figured we need a bit of humor down here. I mean come on Dylan this is the ultimate scary heroin scenario. Two helpless...umm make that one helpless woman and one tough butch..." Lura began.

"Ya got that right babe." Dylan mumbled.

"Like I was saying, two tough butches, creeping along an old cellar, looking for ghosts and goolies and things that go bump in the night.. It's the standard, 'someone is going to jump out and scare the crap out of you' scenario."

Just then a crash behind them made both women jump.

"Shi...what was that?" Lura asked grabbing Dylan's arm in a viselike grip."

Dylan turned the light back on the stairs, highlighting the broken step, the damaged plank having finally fallen to the floor below.

"Nothing but the stair falling, 'Miss Tough Butch'. Dylan grunted when Lura punched her arm. "Come on let's get this done and get on to more pleasant things like finding our other ghost Rebecca."

Dylan led Lura into the center of the cellar. The smell of rotting wood was everywhere. Dylan turned allowing the light to fall on the mostly empty wine racks, the yellowish glare bouncing off the occasional bottle.

"Any idea where your ghost might be?" Dylan asked.

"Well in the dream, she was walled up in a room." Lura said staring at the nearest wall.

"What is it with you Cameron women and walling up doorways?" Dylan asked stepping towards one wall tapping away with the hammer again.

Ignoring Dylan's question Lura turned to stare at the walls again.

"Lura, didn't you say that the room you and Eve were in had a small window?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah, I remember some light coming in, that's how I was able to see that her legs were broken." Lura told Dylan still turning to stare at the walls.

"Turn off the light honey." Dylan told Lura as she stepped back to the blond.

"Why, we won't be able to see anything then." Lura said confused.

"Yes we will. Remember the light coming in the room?" Lura nodded. "Well maybe we can see it from under the wall, light usually finds a way of escaping. If you turn off the light maybe the light from the window will show us where the room is."

Lura switched off the light and turned her back to Dylan. Silently the two women waited for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Each woman guarding the back of the other as they waited in the dark.

"THERE!" Lura yelled pointing at a thin sliver of light that had crept along the floor from beside an empty wine rack. Lura flicked on the light and pointed at the wall. As the yellow beam climbed the wall they began to notice the odd color of the rock, so different from the original stone of the cellar. Lura's light wavered as it stopped at a keystone in the middle of the wall.

"There. She's there, behind the Celtic Knot."

Chapter 36

"Are you alright Honey?" Dylan asked wrapping a supportive arm around her wife's shoulder.

Lura leaned heavily against Dylan inhaling the fresh smell that was so much a part of her mate. "Yes, I guess it's just that I know what we will probably find behind that wall, and I remember what she looked like. Damn it Dylan, I remember the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair even her touch." Lura said tears creeping into her voice. "It's just so unfair. She died all alone, trapped behind that wall and all she could think about was Rebecca." Lura stopped here wiping her eyes with shaking fingers. "At least she didn't know that Rebecca was dead. I don't think I would have been able to deal with the knowledge of something happening to you Dylan." She curled one hand into Dylan's and squeezed.

Dylan kissed the top of Lura's head and silently promised that she would never put Lura in the position of wondering her fate. She would never leave Lura like that, not knowing and worrying.

"Come on, the sooner we open that wall the sooner they will be together." Dylan said lifting the hammer and walking towards the wall. As she pounded on the old stone the makeshift mortar that had held the stones in place began to crumble. A hole formed below the keystone, gradually getting larger and larger.

"What did you find down there?" Mrs. McDougal called from the top of the stairs.

"Another sealed up door. Dylan is breaking it down now." Lura answered.

"Well isn't that strange. What do you suppose is back there?" She asked.

Lura looked at Dylan, her eyes reflecting pain.

"We aren't really sure Mrs. McDougal but we should know soon." Dylan called up.

"Fine, that fine." The housekeeper replied. "By the by, did you see the bloody pool?" she asked.

"What? What was that Mrs. McDougal?" Lura asked.

"The bloody pool, did you see the bloody pool?" She called down again. "It should be at the bottom of the stairs."

Lura walked to the stairs and stood on the stain staring up at the housekeeper. "Mrs. McDougal, do you know where the stain came from?" She asked.

"No idea Miss Lura, I just know that every housekeeper since I can remember, myself included, has tried to get that stain out. I poured strait bleach on it, the stain disappeared for a good two days but by day three it was back and darker than before. No one has a clue where it came from but most folks believe that is where poor Lady Eve was murdered." She called down unaware of the effect her words were having on Lura.

"Thank you Mrs. McDougal." Dylan said as she pulled Lura away from the stain. "We will let you know when we have the wall down."

"Fine, fine, I'll be waiting right here at the door if you need anything. Oh, and I have the kettle on for when you're done there." She said easing her small frame to the floor of the door way. She rested her feet on the top stair and leaned anxiously and curiously forward, staring into the darkness.

"Here Lura hold this, I thought you might not want it broken." Dylan said handing Lura the Celtic Knot that had marked the door of Lady Eve's prison for so many years.

Lura stared down at the intricate carving, her fingers tracing the gently curves of the knot.

"Almost done Honey, do you want to go upstairs and wait with the housekeeper?" Dylan asked softly.

"No, I want to stay here. I want her to know we found her." Lura replied turning sad eyes to Dylan.

"Alright, hang on a second." She said as she knocked the last of the stone and mortar from the doorway revealing an ancient scarred door. "We're through Lura, are you sure you want to do this?" Dylan asked.

Lura nodded her head holding the stone close to her chest. "Go ahead Dylan, I'm ready."

Slowly Dylan pulled pushed open the door, the dried hinges creaked in protest as the door swung open. Dim grey light leached out into the cellar and a musty smell rolled into the room.

Dylan waved her hand back and forth in front of her face blowing away the dust motes that had flown out with the first movement of air into the stale room.

"Hand me the light Honey," Dylan called holding her hand out for the flashlight.

Lura passed the light to her wife and stepped closer to the doorway.

Dylan took the light and grabbed Lura's empty hand in hers, it was cold and trembling as she wrapped her warm finger around the small hand.

"It's okay Lura, I'm not going anywhere." She said reassuringly.

Lura nodded and stepped into the room, her eyes going instantly to the pile of rags in one corner of the room.

It was exactly as she remembered. A large cloth covered a box with piles of rags lying nearby and there leaning against the box was a small skeleton still dressed in a soft day dress from the early 1900's. The skeleton's legs, obviously broken, were stretched out straight in front of her. But the strange thing was the position of the body, her frame sat, leaning to one side, an arm up as if it were embracing someone that had been at her side. I didn't dream her, I was here. I was with her those last minutes. She didn't die alone, not this time. Lura though smiling as tears for the dead woman slipped down her cheeks.

Dylan stepped into the room, she carefully picked up one of the large rags from the floor, and stepped up to the remains. She gently wrapped the cloth around the body, moving the broken leg bones so that all the remains were together in one small bundle. This she moved out of the room and lay gently at the foot of the stairs, realizing that this was probably the same spot she had laid all those years ago. With a sigh she turned back to complete the job.

Going back into the room she saw that Lura had been able to get the remaining rags from around the box. She had also removed the large cloth that had covered the top. Now she was struggling to unlock the latch to the lid which had apparently rusted in place.

"Hold on Lura, let me help with that." Dylan said reaching for the hammer.

She took careful aim and struck the hasp twice, the second blow loosened the rust enough to allow her to lift the latch. "There ya go kiddo." She said with a florish. "It's all yours." Dylan stepped back allowing Lura the room she needed to open the lid.

Lura's hand began to tremble as she saw what was in the trunk. "Oh Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Was all that Lura's brain could think of to say.

"Oh my God!" Dylan exclaimed staring down at the contents of the box.

There, covered in dust were ingot after ingot of gold surrounded by bits of silver from tea services, eating utensils and, Dylan frowned, teeth.

"There must be hundreds of thousand in here." Lura gasped astounded.

"Uh huh." Was all Dylan was able to add.

"We are rich aren't we?" Lura whispered.

"Uh huh." Dylan grunted again.

"I mean we probably have to give some of it to the government but the rest is ours right?" the blond asked the stunned former soldier.

"Un huh" Dylan grunted a smile now joining her grunts.

"Can't you say anything but uh huh?" Lura asked.

"Uh huh" Dylan responded, "We are gonna need that lawyer again, and the boys in custom are gonna hate to see us coming." She laughed wrapping her arms around a giddy blond as the two women jumped up and down in excitement.

"What's going on down there, you two are making enough noise to wake the dead." Mrs. McDougal said.

Dylan laughed at the comment and headed towards the stairs. "We found her Mrs. McDougal, we found Lady Eve." She called up.

"Saints preserve us!" Mrs. McDougal said glad that she was already sitting down.

Later that evening the three woman sat around the large kitchen table, the remains of Lady Eve having been placed in a small cedar box in the main hall.

"I kinna believe I have worked in this house for 30 years and never though the Lady to be in the cellar." Mrs. McDougal was saying for what seemed like the 100th time. "Do you know how many times I've been in that cellar?" She asked not expecting a response.

"Thousands of times." Both American replied in stero.

"Thousands of time." Mrs. McDougal said as if she had not heard the two women. "Wait until it gets about town. Imagine a murder, right here in this house. No, in this kitchen." Mrs. McDougal said excitedly.

"Umm, what makes you think the Lady was murdered?" asked Dylan.

"Well let's see." Replied the housekeeper. "It might be the fact that there is still blood on the stairs, or maybe it's the ghost that haunts the house or humm could it be the SKELOTON in the cellar?" Mrs. McDougal said shooting Dylan a look of frustration.

"Well actually Mrs. McDougal, Lady Eve wasn't exactly murdered. Not exactly." Lura said reaching out for Dylan's hand as she looked at the housekeeper. The last thing I need is for a real murder to occur in the house. She thought. And the way Dylan is steaming now, it could happen.

"And what makes you think she wasn't Miss Lura?" the housekeeper asked incredulously. "Do you have some sort of inside source?"

"Well, umm to tell you the truth Mrs. McDougal, I do." Lura said smiling as she saw that Dylan was grinning. "You see Lady Eve told me what happened. It was more an accident than murder." Lura said.

"Would you care to explain yourself Miss?" The older woman asked.

"She told me in a dream." Lura said, waiting for the explosion. When it never occurred she looked at the housekeeper closely.

Mrs. McDougal was staring at something behind Dylan. Lura turned her head in time to see the Lady in question smile and wave as she walked out of the kitchen.

"Umm, Miss Lura, I believe you." Mrs. McDougal said standing. "I think it's time for me to go home now and go to bed."

The housekeeper walked to the back door as if in a daze, opened it and walked out pulling the door shut behind her.

"Okay what did I miss? What just happened here?" Dylan asked. "I want to know because that is the first time we actually won a fight with that old harpy."

Lura simple stared at the door and shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Said the blond shaking her head.

Chapter 37

"Okay so what you are saying is that you actually saw Lady Eve again?" Dylan asked as she shifted gears in the Mini.

They had decided to take Eve with them as they hunted for Rebecca.

"Yep, and so did Mrs. McDougal. Didn't you see the look on her face? Dylan she saw Eve too, that's why she left. I mean come on no one goes to bed at six o'clock in the evening." Lura laughed. "I tell you Dylan she smiled and waved then walked right through the kitchen door. You know what else?" She didn't wait for Dylan's response. "I think the Germans are gone, I mean it felt different in the main hall, kinda warm and safe. Not like the usual cold chill I get whenever I'm there." She added.

Dylan concentrated on the road ahead trying to miss the bumps. Each time the tires hit a rough spot on the road it jarred the cedar box of bones not to mention the shovel and stones she had loaded into the car.

"You felt the chill too? Dylan asked, "I though it was just me and some weird PTSD shit." Dylan said shaking her head.

"Nope this time it was just ghost shit." Lura grinned.

The drove on in silence for a few minutes then Lura reached out and turned on the radio. The station connection immediately began crackle wavering between loud and non existent.

"Here we go again." Dylan said as they lost the station and the fog rolled in.

"Do you think they will let me come along this time Dylan?" Lura asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.

"Well, I should hope so; I have no intention of carrying that box alone." Dylan replied as the cars engine died and they rolled to a stop.

"Okay Honey, now when I get out, you grab the box and I'll get the tools." Dylan told her mate as she released her seat belt.

"Alright, I'll be right behind you." Lura said unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping from the car.

Dylan opened her door and stepped from the car. She immediately turned around and push the back seat forward, reaching in for the shovel.

Lura had stepped out of the car and was now pulling the large box containing the bones from the back seat.

Shovel in hand Dylan stepped around the car and helped Lura, taking one of the boxes two handles and leaving the other for her wife. Together the two walked towards the woods.

"Almost there Lura." Dylan said. "You are going to have to let me lead from here. The place we need to get to is a small foot path a bit further into the woods. It must have been a main path through this section of forest at one time, but now it is all overgrown." Dylan said as she began towards the woodline. "Apparently the Germans had been following the path towards the house and Rebecca just accidently stumbled on them." She added.

"Ya know Dylan, it's all so sad." Lura said.

"What? The fact that the two women have been separated for so long?" Dylan asked, "I agree. I'm glad we are going to be able to help them."

"Well, yeah, that part is sad too, but I was just thinking that all these people, Lady Eve, Rebecca, even the German sailors, they all died by accident. I mean the Germans just wanted to get home. Rebecca was just taking a walk and Lady Eve, she was just trying to get the men out of the house and fell down the stairs. It all seems just sad." Lura sighed.

"Yeah, I understand what you mean, but it isn't just sad Lura." Dylan said, "It's tragic, but that is all war really is, one tragedy after another. All those men who died in the trenches, those boys who inhaled that mustard gas, the men trapped in mine fields, even the boys of Flanders Field, they are all individual tragedies." She sighed remembering her own personal tragedy. Maybe that was why she was able to meet Rebecca, they had more than their choice of mates in common. They had both been survivors of tragedy, Rebecca had survived long enough to find love and she had survived to the same point. I wonder if I will ever have a walk in the woods like Rebecca did? She thought. I will be ready if that ever happens, I will not let death separate me from Lura. She promised silently.

As they walked deeper into the forest Lura saw the fog roll out. Dylan kept walking straight for it her eyes seemingly focus on some distant point. Then Lura spotted her, the wolf, she was trotting ahead of Dylan, leading them in the right direction. This made Lura smile. Thank the Goddess there she is. Wow, I can't believe I am relieved to see a wolf. Lura chuckled

Believe it.

A voice whispered in her mind. Startled she looked at the wolf who had stopped and was now staring straight at her. Oh, my Goddess. Lura though, She can hear my thoughts.

The wolf turned and trotted on, her tongue lolling out in a very wolf like grin.

"Almost there Honey, how are you holding out?" Dylan asked still following the wolf.

"Oh, just fine love, just fine." Lura puffed as she lifted her feet high to step over a large root.

Just that quickly the scene changed, one minute she was deep in the forest the next she was on an open path.

Lura watched as a tall slender figured limped into view. Dylan had stopped as well, but her body was stiff and Lura could see the white of her knuckles as her grip tightened on the handle of the shovel.

She started to ask her what was happening when the figure grew close. She could now make out the red hair and the green eyes. It was Rebecca.

As Lura watched, the soldier was jumped by several figures in grey. Lura saw Dylan begin to step forward, only to stop herself and stand frozen. Lura watched as Dylan thrust the head of the shovel into the earth at her feet. Her hand quickly lifted to wipe away tears that were running down her cheeks. She knew what was going to happen.

Lura watched as the soldier fought the Germans, she heard the sound of breaking bones and watched the warrior fall. She stood beside Dylan and felt the pain radiating from her mate at the death of Rebecca.

Lura heard the sound of surprise coming from the sailors as they discovered the gender of the soldier they had just killed. She lay her end of the box down and pried Dylan's hands from the other handle. Slowly she took her wife in her arms and held her as the watched the Germans bury Rebecca.

They stood there at the edge of the forest long after the ghostly figures melted into time, long after the dirt of the shallow grave settled and blended in with the forest around it. Long after wild heather sprung up on the tragic bit of earth that now covered Rebecca's final resting place.

Slowly they pulled away from each other. Dylan picked up the shovel and Lura grabbed her side of the cedar box. They moved slowly to the mound and began to dig.

Dylan cried while she dug, she cried for Eve and Rebecca, for the Germans and for her own dead soldiers, killed in the desert so long ago.

Finally the brittle bones and bits of tan cloth were uncovered, gently Lura lifted the dirt stained bones and handed them to Dylan. Reverently Dylan lay them in the box next to the small white bones of Lady Eve. Together the two women carried the box and its sad contents back to the car and back to Cameron Hall.

That night the Hall was quiet, there were no creaking stairs, no wind blowing around ancient mortar no sounds at all except that of two women making love slow gentle love.

The next day Lura called the village Constable, Mayor and the local Vicar to the Hall. They explained the discovery of the body of Lady Eve and the remains of the Soldier she had loved. The Constable took notes as the Vicar viewed the remains. The Mayor was told of the gold that had been found in the cellar, it was decided that if any funds remained they would be divided between the village and the Manor. With the permission of the Constable, the bodies were placed back in the cedar box and taken to the forest. Dylan found a small clearing that overlooked Cameron Hall. Here she dug a small, deep grave and gently lowed the box in. The village Vicar blessed the ground and the remains and said a prayed of forgiveness for the Germans and peace for the Soldier and her Lady. Lura stepped forward and lay the stone Celtic Knot over the small box, Dylan filled in the grave as the Vicar blessed the final resting place of the two valiant women and left. Lura and Dylan remained for some time after, sitting quietly in the heather watching the sun creep across the sky and the clouds roll by. A rustle in the trees caught their attention, they looked up expectantly and watched as the wolf loped from the woods. She came to sit beside Dylan just out of arms reach. For several minutes she simple stared into the dark woman's eyes. Lura could tell that they were some how in communications but she had no idea what was being said. Right now, this moment, that was alright with her. Dylan was safe and with her, Eve and Rebecca were together and all seemed right with her world. When it is all said and done, that is the most anyone could expect she thought as she closed her eyes and leaned into Dylan's shoulder. They remained that way for several minutes until suddenly she felt Dylan stiffen. She sat up straight and turned to see what had cause such a reaction in her wife. As she watched the wolf trotted back to the woods, melting into the shadows, a beam of sunlight lit the forest floor for a minute and Lura saw them. Standing there in the pool of sunlight were the figures of two people, on tall with a shock of deep red hair, the other with a smaller frame and long dark hair. The two turned toward Dylan and Lura, Rebecca wrapped a long arm around Eve, pulling the small woman close. Eve wrapped her arm around Rebecca's waist and leaned her head gently on the soldiers' bosom a sweet smile on her lips.

That is what I will always remember. Lura thought. The smile on Eve's lips, finally she has found her soldier.

Lura sighed as she felt Dylan pull her closer raising an arm in silent farewell to a fellow warrior. Rebecca grinned and waved back as the two faded into the sunlight.

Chapter 38

It had taken a great deal of explaining to the authorities and the occasional intervention of one Ms. Claire Kimbre but eventually the deaths of the two women were recorded, one as accidental, the other having fallen while in service for her country. The gold was declared found treasure and after the crown collected their potion the remainder was quite substantial. Dylan found herself married to a rather wealthy woman and a celebrity to boot. Lura had set aside a portion of the money in a trust for maintenance of the small grave on the hillside, a large portion was deposited in their joint account and the remainder was set aside in a fund for maintenance of the Manor, the forest and the estate grounds.

Mrs. McDougal had become something of a local celebrity when the word 'accidentally' leaked out that she had been a part of the discovery. Lura found that people were clamoring to Chambers to see the place where all the lost War gold was discovered. They were also fascinated with the life and death of Eve and Rebecca. The town flourished under the influx of tourists. The new money resulting in an overall increase in the welfare of the town. Lura also discovered that the Manor made a wonderful bed and breakfast and once renovations were completed on the stairs and on the other rooms in the old Manor it became very self sufficient. Mrs. McDougal was able to hire a larger staff which freed her to conduct tours of the estate. All in all things worked out well.

Dylan and Lura, having said their fairwells to Mrs. McDougal were finally on their way home.

"You know Dylan, I think Scotland is a really beautiful place but I sure am glad to be going back to our little cabin. I miss the quiet and the smell of your coffee in the morning." She said.

"Yeah, not to mention the McDonald's on almost every corner, and the ice in my Coke and I never realized how much I missed iced tea. My God don't these people ever drink their tea cold?" Dylan said as they boarded the plane and moved into the first class section. Lura decided that after all they had been through they deserved a bit of spoiling.

As they sat back in the wide leather covered seats sipping cold drinks Dylan lay her head back and slipped her sun glasses on.

"I am really going to enjoy this." She said as pulled up the blanket the stewart had provided. Smiling she sighed and lay back to enjoy the flight.

Lura reached out and squeezed the tan hand next to hers thankful to have her mate so close. It had been a sobering experience watching the two spirits finally reunited. The thought of being separated from her Hawk caused an involuntary shiver to run through her body.

"Are you okay Lura?" Dylan asked feeling the hand in hers tremble.

"Yeah, just coming to terms with reality I guess." Lura replied. "Boy, reality right now is pretty damn great." She added.

"No argument here Falcon." Dylan agreed as the plane pulled itself into the air the two women relaxed, content to be together.

On a quite heather covered hillside overlooking Cameron Hall, two men were removing the rope and pulley they had used to set a beautiful lavender colored headstone. The older of the two men pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and gently dusted the intricate design of the stone. The second man, much younger than the first looked over the older man's shoulder and read the epithet aloud:

"What does it mean Frank?" he asked the older man.

"I'm not sure Johnny but I do know that one of the women who paid to have it made said that they would know. So the question I had was 'Who the devil is they?'" The two stood there for several minutes looking down and the stone. Had they looked up into the woods they would have seen two shadowy figures sitting in the shadows, one holding the other on her lap, both smiling.



The End, for now.

Please visit me at www.thewomynsplace.com and/or write to me at KatherineStandell@peddlersgroup.com . Like most writers, it means a great deal to me to hear from those who read my work.



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