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so serious and professional and underneath all that he s loving and gentle and& . She
focused on Kate s continuing stare. And mature. Okay, I admit it. He s been around
the block a few more times than I have, but I find that very attractive. There s nothing
wrong with it.
And?
Mally squeezed Kate s arm so hard she thought the blood would be cut off. He
wants me to stay. Apply for a position being offered at the university. He says I have as
much chance of getting accepted as anyone. Her whole face beamed at the prospect.
Kate s suspicion heightened. Are you sure he s not just saying that because&
Mally squinted disapproval at the very suggestion. Because we re a couple?
No. I do have qualifications, you know.
I know. She felt regret for sounding so critical. What are you going to do?
Mally shook her head. Don t know yet. Wait and see. A lot to consider. But
we ll talk about that later. Tell me now about you and Mr. MacTavish.
Tim had soundlessly reappeared around the other side of the house, nodding
approval as he approached. The two wings are obviously recent, he said, his accent
clipped. He was looking at the main doors. Interesting the only way in is through the
oldest part. He smiled warmly, lines on his cheeks folding neatly into each other. May
I have a snoop inside?
Please, Kate concurred. Be my guest.
He nodded thanks, once, and led the way, his head swiveling from side to side as
he entered the foyer. His eyes dropped immediately to the torn paneling scattered about
on the floor and then to the hole, still untouched from the previous day. Without question
LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN Ellen Ashe 111
he took several long strides, as graceful as any ballet dancer, and crouched before the
hole, caressing the jagged edges as though coaxing it to speak.
Been doing some redecorating? Mally asked, but her voice, like the nervous
joke, was empty.
Tim s bullet eyes turned to Kate. Enthusiasm shimmered behind each. A priest
hole, he said gently. Kate, any idea on how old this building is?
Early sixteenth century as far as we can figure. Kate stared at the shadowy
entrance. The steps, the tunnel, the crypt. Worst of all, the clothing folded in a corpse s
fingers. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, waiting, watching not only for a
ghostly appearance, but the doctor s reaction.
What s a priest hole? Mally interjected, coming closer for a better look.
Some medieval homes had one specially built as an escape route or hidden room
for a Catholic priest to hide if need be. There were times it was considered high treason
to follow the faith. Tim turned to Kate. Have you gone down? He was watching her
just as closely.
She pressed her lips together, keeping a gush of insanity from streaming out, and
nodded. How graphic did he want her to be? Alex found it yesterday. Her mind
racing, she felt slightly detached and lightheaded. The sorrow seemed to bubble out from
the hole but refused the chance to escape, crawling into the darkness again to wait, and
watch.
Tim pushed his palm against the stale air from the broken paneling, as though he
sensed the movement as well, feeling the cold like a weary traveler feels the heat from a
fire. What frightened you yesterday, Kate? Do you believe it s still there?
Mally s face had twisted slightly in confusion. The question was rather vague,
but Kate intuitively knew exactly what he meant. All events were dreamlike, shimmering
images, whispering voices, but down there, between the damp stones and the tricking
water, was something real, tactile, and visual. It wouldn t float away to cause more
questions later. No. The bones would still be there, as they had been there, for hundreds
of years, waiting.
Would the clothes be there as well, twisted within her chalk white fingers?
Yes, Kate finally answered. I believe it s still there.
Mally was glancing between Tim and Kate, not comprehending the silent
conversation between the two. But she instinctively knew better than to interrupt. She
kept her curiosity contained, for the time being.
Tim rose, with a grace of a dancer rising from the stage to bow at the end of a
performance, slowly, without taking his eyes from Kate. And when he moved towards
her she wanted to step away, partly from embarrassment that he studied her so intently,
partly because he was so close that she could smell the remnants of fading cologne on his
clothes. But her feet were firmly planted on the stone floor, and she swayed with a
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