Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  CHAPTER THIRTY -THREE

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  Stretching lazily, I rolled over and opened my eyes. The curtains were open and the sun, although it was up, was hidden behind gray fat-bellied clouds. My heart sank at the sight. I knew what that meant—I would have to take Gavin to the games unless I could think of some other excuse not to bring him again. Which I highly doubted that I could. Heaving a weary sigh of defeat, I sat up and looked towards the chair where Gavin had taken up residence for most of the time we had been here. But he wasn’t there.

  That was odd. I thought for sure he would be watching television.

  A tremor of unease swept through me as I turned towards the bathroom. The door was open and the shower wasn’t on. The awful feeling settling against me worsened.

  “Gavin,” I called, pulling the covers off my body.

  No answer.

  I swung my legs over the bed, my heart pounding uncontrollably. “Gavin,” I called, again, louder this time.

  Still no answer.

  Jumping up from bed, my feet hit the carpet with a soft thud. Crossing the room, I made my way over to the bathroom and looked inside.

  It was empty.

  “Oh, no. No!”

  I tried to tell myself he must have just stepped outside for a moment but I knew deep down that he wasn’t outside.

  He was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY- FOUR

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  Fortune Tellers Tent-The Festival-Present Day

  Tilde looked appraisingly over at the strapping Highlander seated across from her in the tent. When she had first gotten the call from Mildred, she didn’t believe her—but now, as she studied him, there was no doubt in her mind he was from another time. “What would you like me to do?”

  “I need ta go back.”

  “Aye, ye already said that, but I need ta know from whence you came?”

  Gavin scrubbed his hands over his face and then dropped them back on the table. “It was sometime during the reign of King James. I do not know the exact day.”

  “That doesn’t give me much ta go on.”

  “Aye, I know,” he said wearily.

  “I cannot be sure it will even work. We haven’t seen the likes of ye for some time now.”

  “There have been others?” he asked, his tone mirroring the surprise in his expression.

  “Aye, a few.” She waved her bejeweled hand. “I didn’t see them personally, but I’ve heard a tale or two.”

  “What did they look like?” Gavin sat forward.

  Tilde instinctively leaned back. “Och, I told ye, I didn’t see them meself.”

  “Then how do ye know?”

  “In my profession, word travels fast.” Her brows raised, accentuating her point.

  “Ye witches with yer dark arts, I will never understand.” Gavin shook his head.

  Her eyes settled on him. “I do not think ye are meant to. Do ye ken what I am saying?”

  “I ken what yer are saying jes fine, but I still do not understand why.”

  “Ye made the deal with the witch for yer freedom, I did not. It is ye that brought this about on yerself, not the other way around.”

  Gavin exhaled. “I didn’t have much choice. It was either that or meet my maker from under the blade of the Headsman’s ax.”

  She shrugged. “Makes no never mind ta me how ye came ta make the deal with the witch. Ye did and that is all that matters.”

  “Ye do her bidding though, do ye not?”

  “Och. I do my own bidding, but ye are the one that came ta me for help, not the other way around. Or have ye already forgotten?”

  “Nay.” He sighed. “I have no forgotten.”

  “What do ye want from me, then?”

  “I want ye ta send me back.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my men are there and…”

  “And…?”

  “I owe the King a promise, and I intend on fulfilling that promise.”

  “Ye Highlanders with yer noble intentions, will ye never learn?”

  Gavin wasn’t sure what to make of what she was saying—it was as though she thought he had a choice in the matter, which he did not. Not if he wanted to keep his men alive—well, he amended, what was left of them. “Say what ye will…at least I have honor.”

  “Is that no what got ye in this mess in the first place?”

  Gavin, even though he didn’t want ta admit it, could find truth in the words she spoke. His honor did get him into this mess and a small misdeed or two, mayhap three. But those were of no consequence, at least not ta the matter at hand. “Aye. I suppose it was.”

  “What of the lass? Will ye be wanting ta bring her back with ye?”

  Gavin, taken aback by her comment, frowned. “She was no part of the deal,” he argued, wondering how she even knew of Paige.

  “I hear things.” She tapped her ear as if giving credence to her claim.

  “Aye, I can see that.”

  Settling back in her chair, she crossed her arms across her ample bosom. “What deal are ye willing ta make with me for this small service ye are requesting?”

  “I have a few coins…”

  She shook her head back and forth. “Nay, that will no do.”

  “Then what?”

  “Come closer, Highlander, and I will tell ye what I want.”

  Gavin reluctantly leaned forward.

  An hour later, a somber Gavin stepped outside of the tent for some air. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then wearily dropped them back to his sides. “Why is everything so bloody difficult?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Festival - Present Day

  The day had already dwindled away into the coming night and the flaps of most of the tents were down. At my wits end, I ducked under a canvas flap and ran into another tent. This one had more knives and swords inside. Frustrated, I pushed past a crowd of people standing idly by chitchatting with one another and headed back outside. “How many stupid tents are here?”

  I looked and looked, for Gavin, to no avail and couldn’t help wondering if he already left. It was as though something or someone was conspiring against me.

  Earlier, as soon as I realized Gavin wasn’t coming back, I shoved everything I could think of in one of the bags and left the hotel, got in the car and headed to the games. And even though I had seen the entrance the night before, for some reason I had a hard time finding it in the light of day. It didn’t make any sense.

  Well into the latter part of the day, I finally found the damn entrance, only to be told that it was nearing closing time. I had argued with the person at the gate for fifteen minutes before they saw fit to let me inside. Now, it was almost dark, and most of the people were either leaving or loitering around conversing with one another. I didn’t know if they worked here or if they were just visiting. And I didn’t really give a crap either way, expect for the fact that they kept getting in my damn way.

  I was tired, hungry and my heart hurt. On the verge of tears, I looked around, trying to figure out what tents I had already been inside and which ones that I hadn’t. They were all blurring together at this point and looked the same.

  Turning around in circles to get my bearings, I spotted one tent that was set up on a hill in the distance beside a maypole.

  As soon as I saw it, I knew that was the one where I would find the gypsy. Taking off, I ran up the grassy-sloped hill with my hefty bag of goods slung over my shoulder. I had filled it with just about everything I could get my hands on from the luggage as well as all the little bottles of shampoo/conditioner/soap from the bathroom as well as all the food and drinks from the goodie bag. I decided if I was traveling to the past, I had better be prepared. ‘If’ was the operative word here, though.

  With an aching back, and panting from exertion, I made my way over uneven clumps of grass and debris to
the top of the hill. Just at the crest of the top, I stopped for a moment to adjust the bag. It was so heavy it was cutting into my shoulder, but there was no way I was going to let it go, especially if I was to be traveling to the past.

  The closer I got to the tent, the more unsettled I became. And even though it was still pretty light out and a few people were still rambling around the field near the maypole, I couldn’t help but notice how they were looking at me. Sure, maybe it was my overactive imagination in full swing or the fact that I might look a bit strange carrying a huge bag and panting like I’d just run a marathon, but something about the way they watched me made prickles rise on my skin. It was the same feeling I got in the castle when I was in the past.

  It was a bit creepy to say the least.

  “Just a few more steps, Paige,” I told myself, as I climbed the rest of the way up the hill.

  Once at the top, I stopped again to catch my breath and pressed my hand to my lower back. The air felt different up here than down on the lower plateau. Cooler somehow and damp, like it had just rained. Even though I knew it hadn’t. And there was a definite eerie vibe to the place.

  A massive ginger haired highlander stood outside the entrance of the tent. I dropped my hand, hiked my bag on my shoulder, and walked up to him.

  “Hello,” I said, as cheerily as I could manage. My Grans always said, “You catch more bees with honey than with vinegar.”

  He looked straight ahead like I wasn’t even standing in front of him.

  “Excuse me,” I said, louder.

  His light gray eyes lowered to my face.

  “Hi there.” I added a cheesy smile. “I was wondering if you could help me?”

  His countenance didn’t falter. “Help ye with what?” he asked finally. His voice was deep and gravelly.

  “Um, do you know where I might find, um…” I lowered my voice and leaned closer, “the gypsy?”

  “Tilde is no taking any more clients this evening. Ye will have ta come back on the morrow.”

  “I can’t wait that long,” I nearly yelled, instantly forgetting about the honey versus vinegar thing.

  One of his ginger brows lifted. “Yell all ye like, lass that will no change the outcome.”

  For some reason, I didn’t think we were talking about me seeing the gypsy any longer. I tried a different tactic. “Where is he?”

  He shifted slightly but still made no move to allow me entrance.

  “Please,” I begged.

  He exhaled. “Lass, ye would do well ta be on yer way back ta wherever ye came from.”

  “I don’t want to go back to where I came from,” I argued, feeling sick. “I want, no, I need, to go with him, please.”

  “Sorry, I can no help ye.” He shook his head adamantly back and forth, making his ginger beard quiver from the action.

  He suddenly reminded me of Tavner, albeit a younger version.

  “Well, I’m not leaving until I see this Tilde.” I dropped the bag on the ground but still kept hold of the handles.

  A lone raven landed on the top of the tent and flapped its wings, cawing loudly.

  The sound made gooseflesh rise on my skin.

  “I’m not leaving,” I repeated, more for myself than for him at this point.

  We stood at odds against one another as the sun dropped completely from the sky but I was still not moving. Hell, I would stay out here all night if need be. Granted, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It was rather chilly up here and my feet were falling asleep.

  After what seemed like hours, which could have only been minutes, his eyes finally lowered back to my face.

  “I’m not leaving,” I repeated.

  “Aye, I can see that.” He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like the word “daft,” then said, “Wait here.” Letting out an audible sigh, he turned and ducked his massive frame under the tent flap, the canvas swishing shut behind him as he disappeared from sight.

  Three people that had been roaming near the maypole on my way up the hillside, now gathered in a semi-circle under a tree, and even though I tried not to look like I noticed them, I could still feel their eyes watching me.

  Trying to act nonchalant, I fidgeted with the bag strap and looked in the opposite direction. All the tents closed up for the night along with the concession stands for food. As soon I spotted the stands for food, on cue—my stomach growled.

  Reaching down into the bag at my feet, I grabbed out a protein bar, stood back up, and pulled down the wrapper. Casually, I looked back up at the tree, to see what the three people were doing but they were now gone. A shiver of something akin to dread swept up my spine.

  Ignoring the feeling, I took a bite of the bar, chewing slowly. I didn’t even really taste it, which was weird, since it had chocolate in it—anything with chocolate was usually a pretty big ‘pick me up’ but it wasn’t doing much for me.

  Not now.

  Not when I was on the verge of losing it with worry about whether or not Gavin had left me without even a “good-bye,” “so-long,” or a “it’s been nice knowing you!” I got Zilch. Caput. Nada. Nothing. Hot tears stung the back of my eyes and I took a deep breath to keep them from spilling over while waving my hand in front of my face. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” I forced my tears back, waving my hand in front of my eyes.

  Getting myself under control, I bent over and grabbed out a bottle of water. Untwisting the lid, I took a sip. The bar and water helped bolster my dwindling mood, but not much.

  Tired of waiting, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Balling up the wrapper, I bent over, put my bottle inside, and lifted up my overfilled bag, once again. Hooking the straps on my free arm, I made my way over to the trashcan outside the tent to toss in the wrapper.

  Leaning forward, I tried to see in the crack in the flap. It was dim inside the tent and hard to see, especially since it was pretty dark outside now with the exception of a few pole lights that were lighting the field.

  “Is she still outside, then?” I heard a male voice say. I couldn’t be sure but it sounded a lot like Gavin. Huddling closer, I tried to see inside again.

  “Och, she is a stubborn one,” a gravelly voice said and I knew at once that it was the ginger-haired Highlander.

  “Do ye want ta take her with ye?” I heard a woman say. Her voice was clear and crisp as though she was right beside me.

  “Nay. I can no take her with me.”

  My heart sped up. Was that Gavin? It certainly sounded like him.

  “Ye need ta make up yer mind,” the woman said.

  “Och, I already did.”

  That was definitely Gavin. I was about to go headfirst through the opening when I heard the woman speak again.

  “Twilight is waning; do ye want ta at least say good-bye?”

  “Nay.” I saw Gavin shake his head adamantly back and forth, something I had seen him do many times. “I do not.”

  A bone crushing sadness closed in on me and I was having a hard time taking a breath. That, was it? No goodbye? He didn’t think I deserved that much from him?

  My anger quickly bubbled back to the surface. What the hell?

  Before I lost my nerve, I ripped back the tent flap and stepped inside. “Are you kidding me?” I dropped the bag on the ground.

  Gavin turned and the pain I saw on his face gave me pause, but not for long. Right now, I didn’t care if he was hurting because I was hurting too. And it was his fault. And mine, of course, for eavesdropping, but that didn’t matter right now.

  “Och, ye were right. That one is full of spit and vinegar,” the gypsy woman said as she eyed me from across the room, seated behind a table much like the one I had sat at when I visited the other gypsy.

  “I told ye, Tilde,” said the Highlander.

  “Lass, what are ye doing here?” Gavin finally spoke up.

  “What am I doing here?” I fumed. “I came to say good-bye.”

  Gavin eyed her bag. “It looks like ye were
intending ta do more than say good-bye.”

  “So, what if I was? I should be able to go with you.”

  “Lass ye don’t know what ye are saying.” Gavin’s eyes flitted worriedly over to the gypsy.

  “I do too. I should be able to make my own decision. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

  Gavin stepped forward. “Let’s go outside ta talk, aye?”

  I waffled in place. Part of me wanted to go outside and convince him to stay but another part of me, my gut, knew that if I did he would try to talk me out of going with him.

  “No. I want to hear what she has to say.” I pointed my finger at the women.

  “Lass, please,” he implored, “jes listen ta me.”

  “If you wanted me to listen to you, you should have had that conversation with me before you snuck away this morning and left me at the hotel.” Another rush of tears clouded my vision. Last thing I wanted to do was let him see how upset I was.

  “It was for the best,” he said. “Don’t ye see.” He lifted his arms akimbo. “I have no right ta expect ye ta come back with me.”

  “You are right about that,” I said, defiantly, letting my anger wash away my tears. “You don’t have that right. But I do.”

  “Lass…” He stepped forward.

  I moved to my left, to duck around him but wasn’t fast enough.

  He grabbed my in his arms.

  “Let the lass speak,” the gypsy woman said.

  I felt Gavin tense behind me as I pushed his arms away.

  Stepping out from his hold, I made my way to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.

  The gypsy woman was beautiful, that much was obvious, but what surprised me was the way in which she was looking at me with a cross between curiosity and something else…

  Was that jealousy in her eyes?

  Of course, I thought that I must be imagining that because why would she, the woman, who was far more pretty than me, look at me in such a way?