The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) (19 page)

“Is everything all right here? Should I call for EMTs?” a stranger’s voice asked.

All Sky could see of the stranger were a pair of heavy black shoes and navy-blue pants. She shook her head.

“It’s just an attack of nerves,” Struan answered for her. “She’s afraid of flying.” He continued to rub her back.

Afraid of flying? If only her distress were that simple. She feared going back to her own time as much as she feared not being able to go back. If they didn’t arrive at exactly the right time, and the wheels of war were already in motion, what good would her reappearance do then? God in heaven, what was she to do? No matter the outcome, her heart would remain with Struan, and she’d be left an empty husk for the rest of her life. She swiped at the tears dampening her cheeks.

“Hey, now.” Struan drew her into his arms and cradled her head against his shoulder. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be all right. Flying is safer than driving, and you mastered that skill easily enough. Right?” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Driving a car doesn’t frighten you, does it?”

She let out a strangled laugh. Best not let on her fit had as much or more to do with churning emotions than it did with the prospect of flying. She sucked in a huge gulp of much-needed air and straightened out of his arms. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I’m better now.”

Connor and Katherine peered at her, their concern obvious. “I’m fine. Really. Let’s find a place where I might have a glass of wine, and then I’ll be ready to be hurtled through the sky.” She shuddered at the thought.

Three glasses of wine and a meal later, Sky found herself strapped into a chair next to a small window, listening to instructions on what to do should the plane go down whilst flying over the Atlantic—not something she wished to dwell upon. Her rucksack was tucked under the chair in front of her, and Struan sat beside her. When the plane began to move, it creaked and rattled. She reached for Struan with both hands. He chuckled low in his throat, disentangled himself from her grip and put his arm around her.

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t wish to fly.” She unbuckled her seat belt. “Surely there are ships that make the journey, aye?”

“Shhh. It’ll be OK. I’ve flown many times,” Struan reassured her whilst re-buckling her seat belt. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Where are Katherine and Connor?” She tried to peer over the seat in front of her.

“Three rows up.”

The airplane picked up speed, and her gaze shot to the window. Struan held one of her hands. She gripped the armrest with the other and pressed herself back into the seat. “Och, saints preserve us, this . . . sucks.”

Struan laughed again, and she glared his way. Faster and faster the plane rolled down the runway. She closed her eyes. Her world upended. She held her breath, as up and up the front of the plane rose, and the wheels left the ground with a frightening grinding sound. Her ears filled with pressure.

“Here,” Struan said. “Chew on this. It’ll make your ears pop.”

She opened one eye a crack. He held a piece of something in front of her mouth. “What is it?”

“Gum. Chew, but don’t swallow.”

She opened her mouth, and he placed the gum on her tongue. She chewed, and a burst of minty flavor filled her mouth. Her ears did pop, but they also filled again with more pressure. Sky risked a peek out the window, and gasped. The buildings, roads and fields beneath had turned to miniatures. She leaned closer, practically pressing her forehead to the glass—or was it plastic? Amazement temporarily pushed her fear aside.

Struan brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Indeed,” she murmured. Her gaze riveted upon the view outside the small window, she gasped again once they rose above the clouds. “Why, it looks like another world altogether!” She grinned. “It’s as if we could walk upon the clouds, or reach out and touch them. I’ve always wondered what they’re made of. Do you ken?”

“Clouds are made of water droplets, and when they become too heavy, the water falls to the earth as rain, sleet or snow.”

“What holds the water droplets together so that they form clouds, and why are they white?”

“Um, light reflects off the surface . . . It’s complicated. Once we’re home, I’ll buy you a book about clouds and such, and you can read all about it for yourself.”

Sky leaned back and turned to face Struan. “You really believe I won’t be able to return to my time, don’t you?” Her heart filled with love and longing for him, and for a moment, she too wished he might be right.

“I do.” He lifted the armrest between them and hugged her close. “You and I . . . we’re meant to be together, at least that’s what I hope. You fell into
my
path, into
my
life, and I don’t think I’m meant to let you go.”

Her heart melted, and with everything she had, she wished he was right. Wrapping her arm around his waist, Sky laid her cheek upon his shoulder. The warmth radiating from him seeped into her, calming her frazzled nerves, and she no longer feared flying.

“It’s not too late to change your mind, love. We can visit Scotland, do some sightseeing and then go home.” He ran his hand up and down her arm. “What do you say?”

“Hmm.” Truly, she wanted nothing more than to do exactly what he suggested, but deep in her bones, she sensed ’twas not to be. “We will at least try for the portal first.”

“All right. Can we agree on a time frame? How about a week?”

“Two.”

“Ten days.”

“Done.” She snuggled closer and yawned. “Ten days, and if the portal does no’ open, I will return with you to Gordon Hollow, and you will buy me a book about clouds.” For right now, it sounded like a fine bargain, and when she wished to try another portal? Well, they’d face that argument then, not now.

Struan tightened his hold. “Try to sleep. Scotland is five hours ahead time wise, and we’d best get some rest while we can.”

Engulfed in his strong arms and cocooned by the peace and contentment pulsing from him, she allowed herself to be lulled into believing he must be right. Even if that belief only lasted for a few hours, she’d grasp hold with both hands, wrapping herself in the promise of a happy future—a future with the man she loved by her side.

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
truan stayed by Sky’s side, keeping an eye on her as she walked around what remained of Kildrummy Castle. He hadn’t set foot on Scottish soil since the day he’d dragged himself through the shimmering light, only to find himself transported to a different land and century. Superstitious much? Aye, that he was. All this time he’d avoided Scotland for fear he’d somehow be sent back to Halidon Hill.

“’Tis all so very different.” Sky stepped over a pile of rubble that used to be part of the inner curtain wall. “To the east there,” she said, gesturing, “’twas all a thick wood, and now there’s naught but fields and rock.”

“Do you think you can find the place where you went through?” Connor asked.

“Och, aye. The road is in the same place it’s always been.” Sky put her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright morning sun. “There’s a copse of Scots pine and aspen.” She pointed. “See you there? A half a league down the lane and over to the east. I’m certain ’tis the spot. ’Tis like an island in the midst of an ocean of heather, gorse and grass. Too out of place to be ignored, aye?”

She surveyed the castle ruins again, turned her back to the rubble and faced what was once the portcullis. “The stables were just there,” she said, indicating the direction she meant, “and the outer curtain wall bordered the road. I rode out in that direction.”

“All right,” Connor said. “Let’s go check it out.”

The four of them piled into the rental car, with Katherine at the wheel. Struan slid across the backseat to sit closer to Sky, slinging his arm across the back of the seat rest. The car bumped along over the rocky ground toward the narrow lane. This time they turned away from the village of Alford and the Kildrummy Inn and headed north.

The island of trees Sky had pointed out looked as if they’d been herded into a tight knot in the middle of a pasture by some cosmic shepherd. Clouds moved across the sun to dim the afternoon light as he scanned the area. Sheep dotted the hills nearby, and the constant wind bent the grass so each blade bowed in homage toward the southeast.

“When’s the last time you were here, laddie?” Connor slung his arm over the back of his wife’s bucket seat and twisted around to peer at him.

“I was just thinking about that. July 19, 1333.” He flashed Connor a wry look. “I’ve sold my swords, daggers and armor at fairs in England, Germany, Ireland and Belgium, but not here in Scotland.” A rush of memories flooded his mind: His da, teaching him how to hold a sword, laughing at Struan’s childish efforts to swing the weapon. He recalled the way his da would lift him upon his broad shoulders whilst striding through the village. He’d never doubted his father’s affection for him. The earl never denied his paternity, nor had he ever forsaken Struan. It was his father who had arranged for Struan to apprentice with the very best blacksmith in the realm, ensuring that his bastard son would have a means of support. The backs of his eyes stung, and he turned to stare out the window. “Sutherland land is in the northwest. That’s where I grew up.”

Sky placed her hand over his where it rested on his thigh, and he turned his palm up to lace their fingers. “What about you, Connor?” he asked. “Have you been back to Ireland?”

“Several times.” He nodded. “Most recently to research the stories I gave you.”

“Does it bother you, going back to the place where you went through time?”

“No.” He rubbed his hand over Katherine’s shoulder as she drove. “I’ve taken my family to the very spot where I went through time. There’s no trace of my passing, none that I can discern anyway.” He grinned at Sky. “Perhaps you could sense something there that I can’t, but it’s not a spot that came up in our studies.”

Sky had grown quiet beside him, and he glanced sideways at her. “Are you OK?”

“Aye. A wee bit nervous is all.”

Tightening his grip on her hand, he settled back and reacquainted himself with the landscape of his country of origin. Somehow, he’d gotten Sky to promise she’d come home with him after ten days. What were the odds that this particular corridor would open within that short span of time? Zilch, that’s what, and he couldn’t wait to be on a plane, traveling home to Gordon Hollow with Sky by his side.

It would take her a few years to find her footing. She’d miss her family terribly, and he’d do his best to be there for her during those dark moments. His family had already accepted her as a member of their family, and he prayed that would ease the ache of missing her kin.

Aye, she’d need time to adjust, time to decide what to do with her life, and once she had things figured out, he’d ask her to marry him. His heart rate surged at the thought, and an exhilarating sense of rightness rushed through him.

They’d only known each other for a few months, but he already loved her like they’d been together a lifetime. He glanced at their twined fingers. Their hearts and souls were every bit as interwoven, and he was certain fate had brought them together for a reason.

Struan leaned forward and put his hand on the back of Connor’s seat. “Have you ever wondered why it is that these portals seem to take people from Scotland and Ireland to different countries? I mean, why did the portal take us to the US and not just to Scotland or Ireland’s past or future?”

“I imagine the fae have something to do with that.” Connor peered over the seat at him again. “Perhaps something drew the
Tuatha Dé Danann
to North America. They may have had a connection with the indigenous people in the area centuries ago. If so, then the paths to North America were already established. No one can say for certain, but if an unwary soul went through the light with no destination in mind, the portals might revert to a default landing place, like the last spot visited by a faerie or something.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Struan’s gaze returned to the knot of trees drawing closer, and his mind wandered back to the topic of marrying Sky and starting a family of his own. Sky had said she didn’t intend to have bairns because of her fae blood. Hopefully she’d change her mind once she was settled in the twenty-first century. She’d relax, see for herself that her gifts weren’t feared or reviled. She’d be a great mom, and he hoped like hell she’d agree to have a couple of little ones with him. They’d live happily-ever-after in Gordon Hollow surrounded by family.

Warmth spread inside him at the scenario he’d created in his mind. Ten days. That’s all. Ten. Short. Days. Two hundred and twenty-four hours, and the seconds were already ticking away. Not even a full two weeks stood between him and his idea of heaven. So . . . why did his chest tighten at the thought of spending a handful of those days waiting for nothing to happen?

Katherine pulled the car over to the side of the road and cut the engine. “We’re going to have to walk from here,” she told them. “There’s no road, only a faint path. Makes you wonder why anyone would come to this spot, doesn’t it?”

“It’s likely the path has more to do with sheep and shepherds than it does with the place we’re here to check out.” Struan opened his car door and slid out. “Let’s go take a look.”

He walked through the field with Sky’s hand in his, forcing himself to believe things would go his way. They entered the clearing, and the hairs on the back of his neck and on his forearms stood on end. “Weird.” Unease prickled down his spine, and the all-too-familiar feeling of dread followed.

“What is?” Connor strode to the center and turned around. “Do you refer to the fact that the clearing forms a perfect circle, or to the way the trees seem to form a ring of protection around the perimeter?”

“Both.” Struan scanned the ground. “Not even a seedling has crossed the tree line to sprout on the inside.” He leveled a look at Connor. “Did your hackles rise the moment you stepped inside this place?”

Connor nodded. “I have goose bumps all over.”

“So do I.” Katherine ran her hands up and down her arms. “Why is that, do you suppose?”

“’Tis from the magic in this place.” Sky held her hands palms up at waist level. “The clearing fair hums with the power of the ancients.” She circled the outer edge. “This is it.
This
is where the shimmering lights appeared, and I tumbled through to the twenty-first century.”

“That’s good news indeed,” Connor said, his grin wide. “Let’s head back to Alford and gather provisions. We’ll begin our watch this evening.” He strode toward the path back to the car. “We’ll want bottled water, jerky, nuts and dried fruit. May as well have lunch while we’re in the village,” he called out over his shoulder. “Katherine and I will take the first watch.”

Katherine laughed. “Slow down, Connor.” She hurried after her husband.

Struan stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Those two are excited.”

“Aye, they’re thinking of seeing their daughter again, and their grandchildren for the very first time. I canna imagine what it must have been like for Connor. He watched as Meghan was snatched away.”

Sky crossed the clearing to join him. “I worry about what my own parents must be suffering right now, wondering what became of me. At least Connor was aware that his daughter had been taken through time. My parents don’t even have that comfort. For all they ken, I’ve been murdered, or . . . or taken off against my will.”

His gaze flew to her. Other than the blacksmith he apprenticed with, after Halidon Hill, no one was left who would mourn his loss, of that he was certain. His father’s legitimate family wouldn’t even have searched for his remains. He imagined his stepmother and half siblings celebrated his passing. Sky, on the other hand, had come from a large, loving family. Her parents were probably beside themselves with grief. He would be if she were lost to him.

He stopped walking and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, love.”

She bunched the front of his sweatshirt in her hands and let out a loud sigh against his chest. “I miss them so, and I’m frightened for them. It’s a weight that never lifts from my heart.”

He held her tight and propped his chin on top of her head. If only there was something that could be done that didn’t involve going back through time . . . A few short beeps came from the rental car, and Struan snorted. “Even Connor’s honking sounds impatient.” He tilted Sky’s chin up and kissed her. “Best get going before he comes after us.”

His heart ached for Sky, and guilt knocked into him. He’d done his best to try to convince her to turn her back on the family she loved so fiercely. Glancing at the faerie ring behind them, he wondered what he’d decide if forced to make the choice between staying or going if he were in her shoes.

He loved the Gordons every bit as fiercely. If it were his family facing possible harm at the hands of a ruthless enemy, wouldn’t he do whatever he could to get to them? Should the portal open, he might yet be faced with just such a difficult decision, one that meant he’d leave behind his family and the life he’d built for himself. Time travel offered no guarantees. How far would he go for love?

Plagued with restless energy, Struan paced around the outer edge of the faerie clearing. He glanced at Sky where she sat on the ground, huddled inside her blanket. Her face was barely visible in the predawn dimness, but he felt her eyes on him nonetheless. “I should’ve gone for a run yesterday. I’m not used to staying in one place for so many hours unless I’m asleep or working in my forge.”

“You and Connor should take an hour or two to engage in swordplay between shifts.”

He came to a stop in front of her. “Sky, it’s been eight days. I don’t think—”

“Dinna say it!” She turned her face away. “I ken what you think, and I dinna wish to hear the words spoken aloud.”

The quiver in her voice went straight through him. His blanket lay on the ground beside hers. He sat down. Two more days, and all this would be behind them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She sniffed and swiped at her eyes with the edge of the blanket, and his heart turned inside out. “Aw, princess. I can’t stand it when you cry.” Struan scooted around, placed his legs on either side of her and encircled her in his arms. She leaned against him, and the soft sound of her crying nearly unhinged him. He stroked her hair and cradled her head in the crook of his neck. “Let it out. Have a good cry, and then you can tell me all about your family.”