A Highlander in Her Past (2 page)

All three boys glowered dark looks toward Catriona and Beathan, then turned solemn faces toward Nessa and clamped their mouths shut.

Wow.
What a reaction. Trish scanned the guilt-ridden faces of all five children. Nessa’s sons never clammed up when it came to sharing their latest adventures with Auntie Trish. The little mischief makers always included her in the excitement no matter how far away she might wander with her latest archeological dig. They all had her cell phone number and if they couldn’t sneak a call, their text messages kept her updated on every detail. Fiona and Brodie’s twins were never far behind either when it came to keeping her entertained. The wild crop of MacKay youngsters filling this corner of the Highlands invariably had some sort of mayhem cooking and Trish loved it when they kept her abreast of the latest plot.

“What did they do this time, Nessa?” Trish didn’t miss how the patches of red staining the boys’ cheeks grew brighter with each passing moment. Whatever the bunch had done this time, it must’ve been really bad.

“Never mind.” Nessa herded the children into a tighter cluster and pointed them toward the staircase. Casting a meaningful look back over one shoulder, she locked gazes with Trish. “I’ll talk to you about it later.”

Nessa returned her attention to the sheepish group of children milling about and directed them with a stern jerk of her chin. “As for all of you”—Nessa took another step toward the stairway and jabbed a pointing finger toward the second floor—“you’ve finished your hellos with Auntie Trish. Now back up those steps and into your rooms. Your punishment still stands.”

A disappointed groan floated up from the youngsters as they wilted before Trish’s eyes. Poor munchkins. Always into something. Surely, whatever they’d done couldn’t have been all that bad.

The children shuffled up the staircase, ascending the steps with about as much speed as thick molasses in the dead of winter. Hamish paused at the back of the group, his small hand white-knuckling the top of the mahogany banister. “I just want ye to know, Momma.” He puffed out his chest a bit farther and sniffed in a hitching breath. “Ye don’t have to worry about me listening to Ramsay no more. I’ll ne’er follow his lead again.”

“Anymore, Hamish. You won’t listen to Ramsay
anymore.
” Nessa graced her son with a loving smile as she nodded toward the second floor again. “I’m glad to hear that you’re going to think for yourself from now on rather than let Ramsay talk you into foolhardy choices. Now up to your room, young man. Your father will be home in a few days and he’s going to have a nice long chat with all of you about your behavior today.”

Hamish’s face grew even longer. “Yes, Momma.” His shoulders slumped as he ducked his head and joined the rest of the group. Moving as one, the unhappy children huddled together and continued up the wide stone steps winding against the curved wall.

Trish shook her head as Nessa turned to face her. “What in the world did they do this time?” Her untouched gifts for the children caught her eye, dampening her glad-to-be-back mood. “You didn’t even let them have their presents.”

Nessa blew out a weary sigh as she rubbed the inside corners of her eyes. “They can have their gifts tomorrow.
After
they’ve had enough alone time to mull over the error of their ways.”

Trish studied Nessa’s drawn weary face. Nessa looked like crap. Apparently, mothering the brood of Clan MacKay was quite a strain of late. “By the way”—Trish nodded toward Nessa’s rounded middle—“have you found out how many or which flavor you’re going to have this time?”

“Just one, thank goodness.” A glowing smile brightened Nessa’s tired face. “And we’re having a little girl. Catriona’s very excited about increasing the ranks of the females.”

“I don’t blame her.” Out of the corner of her eye, Trish noticed a slight movement behind the enormous tapestry covering the archway leading to the north tower. Taking care to turn so her body blocked the view of the small brown boots peeping out from under the golden fringe of the hanging, Trish unbuttoned her jacket and fanned it wide like a pair of outspread wings. “Whew! Isn’t it kind of warm in here? I figured this late into December, the castle would be much cooler.” There had to be a way to get Nessa out of the entry hall so Ramsay wouldn’t be discovered.

Nessa swiped a few damp curls away from her forehead. “Sorry. Someone must’ve turned up the heat.” Pulling a crumpled hankie from the side pocket of her shirt, Nessa pressed it against her throat. “I figured it was just me. The bigger I get, the more my personal thermostat gets out of whack. I bet I could heat up the entire tip of Scotland.” Nessa bent sideways and motioned toward Trish’s lone suitcase leaning against the curved legs of the entry table. “Are Dougal’s clothes in there too? The two of you are certainly traveling light these days.”

Dougal.
Ugh.
Nessa would start the visit with
that
topic. Trish shucked off her jacket and turned a bit, checking for the toes of the boots under the tapestry. Nothing appeared but the clean gray slab of stone flooring stretching beneath the arch.
Good boy. Stay out of sight until I can get rid of your mom and we can talk.
Tossing her jacket onto an ornately carved wooden bench, Trish ignored the particulars of Nessa’s question. “You know me. I always travel light.” Maybe if she didn’t acknowledge the part about Dougal, Nessa would move on to another subject.

Nessa didn’t. “Oh, Trish.” Nessa threw her hands up in the air. “I thought you and Dougal were serious. I already had a spring wedding envisioned for the private garden.”

Well dammit
. Nessa never did know when to butt out. Trish snorted a silent laugh. That’s one trait she and Nessa shared. They both enjoyed meddling in each other’s business. “
Dougal
was serious. Not me. You know settling down in one spot for a cozy family life isn’t my thing. There’s still a lot of world I want to see.”

“But the way you love kids.” Nessa waved toward the staircase. “Don’t you want to settle down and have a few dozen of your own?”

Trish swallowed hard against a sudden bitter lump rising in the back of her throat. She didn’t have the heart to tell Nessa the cold hard facts: long ago doctors had dashed her dream of having children and refused to give the slightest hope. Forcing a grin to her lips, Trish waved a hand toward the staircase. “Why should I go through the pain and aggravation of having my own kids when I’ve got the best of both worlds with yours?” Trish backed against the forest scene tapestry covering the archway and nudged against the child-sized lump protruding from the woven reddish brown buttocks of a slightly threadbare stag.
Damn, the boy is stubborn…and reckless.
She smiled wider and nodded toward Nessa’s stomach. “Besides, you look like the poster child for exhaustion. Think about it. I’ve got the best part of this deal. I get to play with the feisty munchkins while you have to be the mean old mom and make sure they’re properly trained to charm the world.”

Nessa’s brows knotted over narrowed eyes squinted into a pair of irritated slits. “You’ve got such a way with words. With a friend like you—”

“Now, Nessa.” Trish rushed over and wrapped an arm around her friend’s slumping shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “You know how much I love you. You’re the sis I never had.”

Nessa huffed and grudgingly returned the hug. “So, out with it. What happened between you and Dougal?”

“Nope.” Trish shook her head. She wasn’t about to get sucked into a relationship tell-all session until she found out what the boys had done to enact such a strict punishment. Besides, there wasn’t much to tell. Dougal had been a nice enough guy but that was it. After the initial excitement of the first meet wore off, any time spent with Dougal grated on her nerves. The man had revealed himself to be an insufferable bore. If she needed a path to unbearable yawndom, she’d bury herself in the college computer lab and code all her archeology notes for filing.
Yuck.
That thought triggered an involuntary shudder.

Trish rubbed an elbow against the tapestry at her back.
Good.
Ramsay had finally retreated. Meeting Nessa’s gaze, she crossed her arms and patted a foot against the stone. The clicking tap of the toe of her boot echoed with a sharp report through the high-ceilinged hallway. “We’re not talking about my failed relationship with Dougal until you tell me what the marauding curtain climbers of Clan MacKay did to incur your wrath.”

“Magic.” Nessa spit out the word as though it burnt her tongue.

“Magic? Is that all?” Trish leaned against the doorframe, teetering back and forth while she peeled away the uncomfortable leather boot. She wiggled her toes and stretched out the uncomfortable seam of the tortuous sock that had embedded itself into her flesh. Trish groaned aloud at the instant relief her poor toes transmitted to her brain.
Whew! She really needed to get rid of those heels. Comfort was so much more important than style.
Lifting her gaze from her much happier toes, Trish motioned toward the shattered remnants of a crystal globe encased in a well lit curio cabinet. “Those boys have been doing magic since they were just a few weeks old. It’s their heritage. You’d think you and Latharn would be used to it by now.”

“Not time travel.” Nessa hissed between tightly clenched teeth.

Trish straightened, hopping on the remaining high-heeled boot and stumbling toward the wooden bench fitted into a stone niche beside the doorway. “Time travel? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Wow.” Trish kicked off the boot and pulled both feet up into her lap, relaxing yoga-style against the back of the seat. “Um. Where…or I guess the more appropriate question would be
when
?”

Nessa lowered her swollen body onto the bench beside Trish, closing her eyes as she leaned against the throw pillow threatening to squish out from behind her back. “No where…or when. Luckily, Ramsay botched the spell. He claimed his cousin broke his concentration.”

“I see.” Trish frowned at the gently moving tapestry to her left. Hopefully, if Nessa noticed the wavering cloth, she’d think it was just stirring due to heated air flowing from the free-standing heater positioned nearby. Time travel. Ramsay had always been fascinated with the past, almost obsessed with the need to know every detail of his ancestor’s lives. “Not that it matters, but which cousin did he blame? Usually, Catriona is the level-headed one of the group that catches all the heat. Was she the one who ratted them out?”

Nessa nodded without opening her eyes. “Yes. Thank goodness our little Catriona was once again the voice of reason.” Flexing her spine, a pained expression darkened Nessa’s face as she massaged her knuckles up and down her lower back. “Trouble is…when she forced her way into the boys’ magical ring, the energy of the spell had to go somewhere and they nearly blew the roof off the northern tower.”

“Is
that
what caused that gray cloud settling across the entry bridge?” Trish massaged her thumbs into the balls of her feet. “I thought it was a little late in the season for an early evening fog.”

“Yep.” Nessa slid to the edge of the seat and hefted her weighty girth up from the bench with an awkward hitching launch. Pausing once she’d gained her footing, she closed her eyes and flexed her shoulders, still working her fingers up and down the base of her back. “The roof of the library tower is now hanging by a thread and half the blocks from the farthest parapet have been reduced to dust.”

An involuntary shiver stole across Trish’s flesh.
Holy cow.
Ramsay had outdone himself this time. Speaking a bit louder while she risked another glance at the now motionless tapestry, Trish slowly unfolded her legs. “Sounds like they definitely pushed the envelope this time.” Wiggling her toes back into the persecution of her boots, Trish grimaced as she forced the tight leather heels back into place on her aching feet. “I didn’t hear a second explosion so I’m assuming Latharn doesn’t know that in a single afternoon, his sons destroyed a part of the castle that’s survived centuries of enemy attacks and extremes of Highland weather?”

“Oh, he knows.” Nessa waddled toward the wide stone archway connecting the entry hall to the larger main room making up the first floor of the keep. “According to Ramsay, his father’s angry roar shook the remaining walls of the room even before the dust settled. Apparently, even though Latharn’s currently meeting with historians in Ireland, he sensed the displacement of the energy blast and made certain his sons
felt
his displeasure.”

“In other words”—Trish cringed as she danced her pant legs down in place over her boots—“they’re gonna get it when Daddy gets home.”

“Pretty much,” Nessa agreed.

Chapter Three

Trish raised the battery-operated lantern higher, increasing the diameter of the glowing blue-white circle of light pushing against the darkness. She slid her feet in slow, searching steps, brushing the soles of her boots against the cluttered uneven flooring. Trish kicked aside odd-shaped chunks of debris from Ramsay’s blast earlier in the day. Hopefully, for the boys’ sake, Latharn would delay his return from Ireland. The man had a terrible temper when adequately provoked. He needed time to cool off before he witnessed all this damage and meted out additional punishment to his sons.

“Dammit!” Trish stumbled back and lowered the lantern, revealing the jagged-edged block of immovable stone she’d just hit with her toe and whammed into the side of her knee. Latharn would tan Ramsay’s butt for wreaking so much destruction. Propping against the wall as she massaged the sting from her leg, Trish set the lantern atop the broken masonry. The glowing orb revealed the floor of the hidden tunnel leading to the scene of the crime was cluttered with various chunks of castle debris. Trish swallowed hard against the uneasiness drying out her mouth. Maybe Ramsay needed a good spanking. It was a wonder one of the children hadn’t been killed.