Highlander's Captive

by Mariah Stone

  “No, no! I’ll live a great life with the man who makes me very happy. Something I can never have here.”

  Jenny sighed and hugged Amy. “You’re insane. But I love you all the same.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Amy still saw doubt in Jenny’s eyes when she threw her sister one last glance from the airport security line.

  Amy breathed heavily. Not because she’d walked, but because in a few minutes—if everything went right—she’d see the man she was supposed to be with.

  “I told ye, ye hadna met the man yet,” a woman said next to her. Amy looked to her side.

  Of course.

  Amy smiled. “Hello, Sìneag.”

  “Hello, dearie. I see ye decided to go back.”

  “Yep. Decided.”

  Sìneag turned, grasped Amy’s hand, and squeezed it. “I’m so glad ye did! Oh, ye and Craig are such a great match.”

  “Are we?”

  “Oh yes, lass. And I’m so impressed ye were brave enough to change. Now ye’re living up to yer potential, living a full life.”

  Amy smiled. The woman’s positive energy was contagious, like a burbling fountain of joy.

  “Who are you, Sìneag? Clearly, you’re not just a tour guide.”

  Sìneag shook her head, little wrinkles forming around her eyes as she smiled.

  “If I tell ye, will ye keep it a secret?”

  “Sure. Fair warning, though. I’ll tell Craig. If he ever wants to talk to me again, that is.”

  “Aye. I trust Craig.”

  “So?”

  Sìneag sighed. “I’m what ye call a faerie. A time traveler, I suppose, like ye.”

  Amy raised her eyebrows, not sure if she believed her, but listened openly, nevertheless. Time travel was real after all, why not faeries?

  “I was there when the Picts carved those stones,” Sìneag continued. “In fact, I gave them the idea. I am a hopeless romantic, mayhap ye’ve noticed.”

  “Yes.” Amy chuckled. “But why are you helping me?”

  Sìneag sighed. “I’m not human, see. I will never have what you can have—love. There is no faerie, male or female, for me. That is the way of things. Our folk isna big, there aren’t many of us. If we mate, ’tis for life. And all good ones are taken.” She smiled sadly. “So I decided if I canna be happy, I’ll help humans. And that’s what I’ve been doing all this time.”

  “Really? Matchmaking through time?”

  “Oh, aye! ’Tis not often I have couples who I can make happy. Not everyone is like ye, ready to cross time for the man ye love. But those who do…”

  “They live happily ever after?”

  Sìneag laughed. “As long as they open up to love and each other, they certainly have all chances for that.”

  “Well, life still happens, right?”

  “Right, sweetheart.”

  In a sudden surge of gratefulness and warmth, Amy turned and hugged Sìneag, and a fresh, natural scent of herbs and trees wafted into her nose.

  “Thank you. Craig might not want me back, I know. I’ll do everything I can to change his mind. But whatever happens, thank you.” She looked into those eternal green eyes. “You helped me meet the love of my life. And have an amazing adventure. And change. I’ll never forget that.”

  Sìneag’s eyes watered, her face spreading in a broad, lovely smile.

  “Aye, lass. Ye’re welcome. And now, go get yer man.”

  Chapter 38

  Inverlochy village, February 1307

  Craig laid the silver penny on the table of the carpenter’s workshop.

  “Aye, lord, much obliged,” Fingal, the carpenter, said.

  He was a powerful man, not much older than Craig, with an intelligent face and big, work-roughened hands.

  “I thank ye,” Craig said. “And once the bed is done, I would thank ye to work on the roof in the great hall.”

  What Craig meant was, once the bed was done well. Although, judging by the good, solid furniture in the carpenter’s house, he was a master of his work.

  Owen chuckled. “Told ye there was good folk in the village.”

  “Aye, I ken.” Craig threw a glance at Fingal. “But ye can never be too careful.”

  “Dinna worry about me, lord,” Fingal said. “All I want is honest work to feed my family.”

  Craig nodded. Fingal’s wife was just getting bread out of the oven, the scent mouthwatering. Two boys and a girl huddled shyly by the single bed in the corner and watched Craig.

  “The Comyns are nae coming back,” Craig said. “’Tis best that everyone moves on and gets used to the new situation. Including me.”

  “Aye. The bed will be ready in two sennights.”

  Craig nodded, they said their goodbyes, and Owen and he walked out of the house into the streets of the village.

  The day was cold but sunny. Children played outside, running and screaming. The air was crisp and smelled like fresh snow, which covered the ground in a thin layer.

  “New bed?” Owen said. “New woman, then? I can introduce ye.”

  Craig chuckled. “Nae. Nae women. I canna stand that bed. I dinna sleep in it. When I look at it, I see Lachlan. It reminds me of Hamish, of Amy. Of my mistake.”

  As if he needed more reminders of Amy. Thinking of her was like breathing through a broken rib. Necessary to live.

  But painful.

  So the bed needed to go. The truth was, he and Amy had never even made love in that bed. All it reminded Craig of was pain and heartbreak. It was time for a new start. Also, a new start with the villagers.

  He’d been very suspicious of them. But he was ready to begin to trust more. Owen was right. Craig needed to open up to people. And even if someone from the village was in contact with the Comyns or the MacDougalls, Craig would learn of it more easily if he was closer with the people. He could even ask those he’d come to trust to let him know if they heard something suspicious. He would win them over with kindness. And definitely not by behaving as though they were the enemy.

  “What mistake?” said the sweetest voice in the world.

  He spun around, his stomach turning, his throat tight.

  There she stood, in her strange dark-green coat from the future. Her hair was tied in a knot at the back of her head, fully exposing her beautiful face and neck. Her large blue eyes were as bright and dear as forget-me-nots, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her lips in a shy, sweet smile he was ready to kiss for an eternity.

  People around them were stopping and staring, but all Craig could see was her.

  “Are ye standing before me?” Craig asked.

  Surely, this was a trick of his imagination. How else could she be here?

  “Yes, I am.”

  She stretched her hand out and touched him. The sensation was so shocking, it felt like he’d been hit by some powerful force. Except no pain came. Instead, gentleness and love spread through him.

  “Why?” He couldn’t seem to find the right words. “Did ye forget something?”

  He couldn’t have said anything more foolish. He was a stupid arse after all.

  “I mean—” he started.

  “Yes, I forgot something.” She laughed, the sound like a brook in spring, fed by the melting snow in the mountains.

  “What?”

  “You.”

  Craig swallowed hard, but his mouth remained dry.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You. I forgot to tell you that I’m not going anywhere unless you go with me or I with you. And if you don’t trust me, you will. I’ll stay and cook and clean and do anything until you start to believe that there’ll never be anyone more loyal to you than me. Your wife.”

  Craig’s head spun, his mind as hazy as if he’d drunk several cups of uisge. She’d come back. She sounded like she wanted to stay. She sounded like she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “So ye came back?”

  “I came back. Because I love you and I belong with you. And I’m going to prove it to you, however long that takes.”


  Craig laughed. “Ye don’t have to prove anything, lass. I was a fool to let ye go. I never should have. I’ll have ye in any way I can, as long as ye’ll have me.”

  “Oh, Craig,” she whispered.

  She kissed him and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer. He inhaled her scent, the woody, herbal scent of nature and flowers and spring. And her. She tasted as divine as he remembered. Their bodies and tongues entwined, he kissed her without reservation, as though this was the first and the last time.

  Because mayhap it was.

  “I will never let ye go again,” he mumbled against her lips. “I hope it doesna sound like I’m locking ye up.”

  “You can lock me up as long as you want,” she said. “As long as you’re with me in the same room, naked.”

  “Oh, aye, lass. Then consider yerself my captive.”

  And as he kissed her again, to the delighted sighs of the villagers, he didn’t think he’d ever been happier.

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Inverlochy Castle, June 1307

  Amy poured sauce over the crust of the boar roasting on the spit. The fire answered with hissing and filled the kitchen with the most mouthwatering aroma. She was already hungry, thanks to her pregnancy. But she wasn’t nauseated like many women would probably be.

  She was ravenous.

  All the time.

  She glanced back at the busy kitchen. Cooks and kitchen maids chopped vegetables and kneaded bread. No one was looking at her. She took a knife, cut a tiny piece, quickly blew on it and put it in her mouth.

  It burned her tongue a bit, but she chewed, her eyes closed in sheer bliss.

  Oh-oh. She’d better get out of the kitchen before she ruined the food for the feast and made a poor impression on her father-in-law.

  “Everything looks great, team!” she said.

  The kitchen staff answered her with cheerful exclamations.

  “Dinna worry, lass,” Fergus said, looking up from the fish he was cleaning. “The feast will be successful.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Fergus.”

  Amy went outside, where warm summer air full of the scent of flowers enveloped her. In the courtyard, tables and benches that had been carried out of the great hall were decorated with bouquets of wildflowers and covered with plates of cheese and bread. Chattering voices filled the space, and a lyre played in the background. The gate of the castle was wide open.

  Craig and she had decided to hold the feast in the fresh air, to enjoy the summer and because they’d fit in more people. The whole Cambel clan had come as well as the villagers from Inverlochy and some representatives of allied clans who weren’t essential to the war.

  The castle was now fully repaired and ready for whatever would come. Robert the Bruce had recovered after his sickness and managed to destroy the Comyn clan in the east, his biggest enemy besides the English. Thanks to that, the Cambels could come back west for a short while and attend the clan gathering.

  Craig caught Amy’s hand, whirled her around, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Where are ye going so fast?” He kissed her, making her legs wobble and her stomach squeeze in euphoria.

  She brushed his chest with both her hands, her mouth sinking in the deliciousness of his.

  “Searching for you,” she said.

  “Oh, aye? Ye found me. Come with me. I want to announce something.”

  She giggled as he took her by the hand and tugged her after him. They sat at the honorary table of the lord and lady of the castle. Near them sat Dougal, Owen, Domhnall, Marjorie, her eleven-year-old son Coilean and Lena.

  Amy had already met Marjorie, who’d arrived two days ago, and the two had immediately understood each other. Marjorie wasn’t a cheery, chatty woman, but there was something so kind and sweet about her. Lena was a pretty young woman, happily married to a MacKenzie up in the north.

  Warmth spread through Amy as she looked around at her new family. They all seemed to have accepted her. Amy had liked Owen from the beginning, and as they’d spent more time together during the last four months, they’d gotten closer. She appreciated his humor and lightness, and they bantered often.

  She was still a little wary of Dougal, her father-in-law, but in the way she respected a great military leader.

  None of them knew about her being a time traveler, only Owen and the four warriors who’d heard Amy’s confession in the underground storeroom. And every single one of them had sworn on his life to never tell the secret. Craig trusted them, which was saying a lot. They’d told everyone she was a distant cousin of the MacDougall chief, with the same name as his daughter, and that she had not corrected their assumption because she needed to protect herself during the siege. She’d been raised in Ireland and had never even met the Scottish MacDougalls, but someone in her family was a friend of the Comyns. Of course, since then, Dougal had reservations about her, and she was anxious to make him like her and forgive her.

  “Friends, family,” Craig announced, and the hum of voices quieted. “Ye all ken the reason to gather here. ’Tis to see my family and say goodbye, because my wife and I move to my estate in Loch Awe. But there’s also another reason we wanted to have ye here. To announce that my wife is with child.”

  The courtyard filled with cheers and congratulations. People clunked their cups and drank. Dougal stood up and clapped Craig on the shoulder and hugged him. Then he came to Amy, his eyes bright and shining, and took both her shoulders in his hands and held her at arm’s length.

  “Lass,” he said. “Congratulations. I couldna be happier for ye.”

  “Really?”

  He smiled. “I dinna think I welcomed ye in the family well enough. And I ken ye had to lie at first. But I trust my sons, Craig and Owen, who both think highly of ye. So I trust ye are a good person and will be a good mother to my future grandchildren who will continue the Cambel clan.”

  Joy blossomed in Amy’s chest. “Thank you, Dougal,” she said. “This means a lot. Truly. I don’t have much contact with my father, so I’m glad to find one here.”

  She hugged him, taking him by surprise. He gave her a bear hug, almost crushing her rib cage.

  “Aye, lass, ye can always rely on me.”

  He let her go and squeezed her shoulders again, then turned to the table and poured uisge down his throat, grunted in appreciation, and moved on.

  Marjorie was next, her long dark hair in a braid, her green eyes sparkling. Colin stood by her side, tall and scrawny, though already broad-shouldered. He had Marjorie’s dark hair—a thick, shiny mane with bangs that covered his forehead and reached his slightly slanted green eyes fringed with thick black lashes. The boy had a wooden sword at his belt, and Amy had seen him playfully wield it with Owen.

  It was the Middle Ages, and since Colin had been born out of wedlock, Marjorie bore shame in the eyes of the Catholic church and society. It didn’t matter to Marjorie or her family because they all knew it hadn’t been her choice. And it certainly didn’t matter to Amy.

  “I’m so glad for ye,” Marjorie said, squeezing Amy’s hand. “I canna wait to meet my future niece or nephew.”

  “Thank you, Marjorie.” Amy returned the squeeze. “That’s what my sister, Jenny, would have said.”

  “Oh, aye, I’m sorry she isna with ye.”

  “I hope we can visit you in Glenkeld soon,” Amy said.

  “Aye, I’d love that.” She looked down at Colin who fiddled with the handle of his wooden sword. “Colin would love a cousin, wouldna ye, lad?”

  Colin beamed at Amy, his green eyes shining. “I hope ’tis a lad, and he’ll be fostering with us. I can teach him to fight with a sword and shoot arrows. We can hunt together.”

  Amy ruffled his hair. “Of course, Colin. He won’t have a better teacher.”

  “Aye. Mother taught me sword-fighting and archery, and there isna a better teacher than Mother. While Grandfather and my uncles are gone fighting for Bruce, ma and I will hold G
lenkeld Castle and protect it from anyone.”

  Marjorie raised her eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Amy. “I do hope no one attacks us, Colin. The king will be in the west, and all of the action is there.”

  Colin sighed.

  “Dinna worry, lad, yer time to be a strong warrior will come. Come on, go and congratulate yer uncle.”

  Colin moved to hug Craig, and Marjorie lingered. “God, I do hope no one kens I’m the only Cambel left in the castle. But if anyone thinks a woman canna defend her home and her son, they’ll get a very unpleasant surprise.”

  Amy nodded, impressed with Marjorie’s spirit and determination, though as her sister-in-law moved to hug Craig, there was a flash of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. She was probably showing more courage than she really felt.

  The rest congratulated them, and everyone drank some more. Music and the hum of voices resumed, and Craig wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  She felt protected. She felt complete. She felt like herself.

  “Do you want to get out of here for a moment?” she asked. “Looks like they don’t need us to have fun.”

  “Aye, Amy, anytime ye want,” he said. “Do ye want to go to the stables?”

  She laughed. “No. Come, let’s get some air on the wall. The view over the mountains must be beautiful today.”

  “Aye, dear.”

  They went through the western tower to the wall, where they could see the sun descending over the mountains. The Highlands were green and lush now, and River Lochy glistened red and orange from the reflection of the sun.

  The view was breathtaking but not as gorgeous as the man standing next to Amy. His gaze more intense than ever, starting a fire in her veins, he glanced over her with heat that would melt an iceberg. He stood behind her and hugged her, laying his hands on her still flat belly, then kissing her neck.

  “Are you not going to be sad to leave this place?” Amy asked.

  “The view from yer window isna going to be much worse, lass. Aye, ’tis nae a castle but ’tis a home.”

  “I’d be happy with you even if we lived in a cave.”