“Can we at least try ta enjoy what little time we have left with one another?”
Her heart hurt—she was sad and angry—her emotions were all over the place. “Yes,” she agreed finally.
“Come here, lass.” He held out his arms.
Feeling like she was about to bawl her eyes out, Paige stood up and fell straight into his arms. Resting her head against his hardened chest, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him—never wanting to let go.
He smoothed his hand over her hair in gentle strokes. “We will see what the morrow brings, aye.”
She nodded, tightening her hold.
As usual, her mind was spinning different variables, trying to figure out a way for him not to go or for her to go with him. Her body, of course, had other ideas. It was definitely a turn on to be sitting on Gavin’s lap. And from the hardened object pressing against her bottom, it would seem Gavin wasn’t immune either.
Wiggling her butt, she snuggled closer to him, inhaling his earthy scent, trying to memorize what he smelled like, how he felt in her arms. Each contour cut into his hardened chest and abdomen. The rounded curve of his buttocks, his sinewy back, his beautiful face—she wanted to inspect every inch of him—burn the images into her memory in the event that she couldn’t go with him—so she would have something to hold on to when he wasn’t with her any longer.
Gavin was becoming uncomfortably hard. He couldn’t help himself with the way the lass was wiggling her bottom on his lap. He wanted nothing more than to take the lass in his arms and kiss her senseless but he didn’t know how she would feel about that since he could tell she was upset about him leaving on the morrow.
Tired of waiting for Gavin to make a move on her, she decided that she would just have to get the ball rolling, so to speak, herself. With that thought in mind, she stood up and began taking off her clothes.
“Lass, what are ye doing?”
“I’m getting undressed.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA
The Hotel - Present Day
Before the sun began to make an appearance in the early morning light, Gavin was already out of bed, dressed in his plaid, about to leave. He sheathed his dagger in his boot and attached his broadsword, correction, Callum’s broadsword, to his side. Hesitating at the edge of the bed, he watched his lass sleep. The memory of the first time he had seen her thusly, back at Greystone, lying on a fur on his bedchamber floor was clearly etched in his brain. It seemed like a lifetime ago, now.
Och, he thought, scrubbing his hands over his face. This leaving business was a lot harder than he anticipated. His belly hurt and there was an emptiness settling in his chest. He would miss the lass, more so then he thought possible. But what was he ta do? His men were counting on him, if they were even still alive, his mind chided. And he did owe the King a treasure…and what of Jillian? The feelings that he thought he had for her that were once so strong, seemed farther away than ever before. And she was gone now, so what did it matter?
He didn’t have any answers to his many questions and it didn’t seem at this juncture that he ever would.
Even though he did not want to, he knew he needed to leave before she woke. With that thought in mind, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers for the last time.
A sweet smile tugged at the corners of her pretty bow shaped lips. His heart stuttered at the sight. He stared down at her for a moment longer, wanting to memorize her image, ingrain it in his memory so he would never forget her face.
“I will miss ye, lass,” he whispered.
Forcing himself, he turned away and walked across the room. As he slipped out the door, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA
The Hotel - Present Day
Rubric Kensington, a heavy-set man with a pair of wire-rimmed bifocals resting on his bulbous nose from too much drink stared with envy at the strapping Highlander standing at the desk. Life was so unfair, he thought as his wife Mildred for thirty years come Sunday after next made a spectacle of herself giggling like a smitten school girl while fanning her over heated face.
“The bus should be back any minute now.” She leaned forward, propping elbows up on the desk and her chin on her hands.
Rubric rolled his eyes. He had never seen the woman get that exited around him, even when he was younger. He nudged her backside.
“Give the lad some room to breathe, woman.”
She cut Rubric one of her staple angry glares. The same one he had seen for thirty years.
“Go in back and get one of the maps for our guest,” she snapped.
Rubric rubbed his meaty hands together and tried to suck in his gut as he pressed his shoulders back. “You go get the lad a map.”
Her eyes narrowed at him menacingly, another look he knew all too well that meant he was digging himself in deep and if he didn’t do her bidding there would be hell to pay later.
“Fine,” he huffed and turned on his heel, stomping into the back room.
“Fifteen minutes?” Gavin asked, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutinizing stare.
She waved her hand. “It should be back anytime now.” She gave him a toothy grin.
Gavin smiled in return, just a little one. He felt a bit uncomfortable to say the least.
“So, will ye be returning this evening?”
“Nay, I do no believe I will.”
“Oh.” Her smile vanished. “Have you been to the games before?”
“Nay. Not these games.”
She frowned. “I love your colors.” She reached out to touch the material. “It looks so authentic. Not like the other rabble rousers that come here once a year.”
“Aye, it is. Old, I mean ta say.”
“Was it a relative of yours? I haven’t seen those colors before. What clan are you with?”
“Grey,” he said.
“Grey?” She leaned back, frowning. “That doesn’t look like the plaid from the Grey clan that I have seen. And trust me when I say, I have seen a lot of plaids.” Her penciled brows lifted to her hairline as she inspected the material closer.
“This is from the old Grey clan.”
“Hmm…” She tapped her chin. “From what part of Scotland?”
“Around the northern region, near Loch Morar.”
Her face showed her surprise. “I can’t say I’ve met a Highlander representing a clan from there before.” She leaned back and scratched her head. “What’s your motto?”
“We do not have one.”
“Pish posh.” She waved her hand. “Every clan has a motto except….” Her eyes rounded with surprise.
“I’ve got the map, Mildred.” Rubric hustled back into the room, huffing and puffing from trying to hold in his distended belly.
“For God’s sake Rubric, stop panting. You sound like a dog.”
Rubric glared at his wife and handed the map to the lad. “Here you go.”
“I thank ye for yer troubles.” Gavin took the map.
“You are welcome,” he said. “Now, you better get, the bus is here.” Rubric pointed a stubby finger towards the door.
Gavin looked over his shoulder, spotting the bus. Thankful he had a reason to leave, he tucked the map into his plaid. “Have a nice day,” he said, repeating what his lass, usually said to people.
“Same to you,” Rubric called. Once the lad was on the bus, he turned to his wife. Her face was pale and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face.
“Mildred?” Rubric eyed her warily. “What is wrong with you?”
Mildred turned her haunted eyes on Rubric. “Ye will no believe this...” she said falling back into her Scottish accent the one she rarely used nowadays. “ I think we just saw a ghost.”
Rubric was accustomed to hearing a lot of things from his wife but this would not be one of them. “Mildred, what the devil are you spouting now?
”
“I’m telling ye…he is a ghost.”
“Who? The Highlander?”
“Aye, Rubric, the Highlander,” she snapped.
“Mildred…” He gave her a look of disbelief. “Have you been nipping in my whiskey again?”
“Och, Rubric, I have no been nipping in yer whiskey.”
“Sherry?”
“No.” She stomped her foot in frustration making her orthopedic shoe squeak on the floor.
Rubric sighed. “Why do you say that?”
“He is wearing their plaid.”
“Whose plaid?”
“The thirteen.”
“The thirteen what?”
She bustled over to the book case on the far wall and pulled out an ancient book on clans. Flipping through the pages, she found what she was looking for. “See…” She stabbed the page with her finger.
Rubric shoved his bifocals up on his nose and peered down at the picture. Sure enough, there was a Highlander on the page with twelve others that looked a lot like the man who was just in the lobby. “Mildred…that’s just an old-wives- tale…you can’t really be thinking…”
“I am, Rubric.” She nodded her head emphatically.
“Now, Mildred…I doubt that lad was one of them. Surely he just has a resemblance…”
“Rubric, I know what I saw. And so do ye.”
For support, Rubric leaned back against the chair in the lobby. “Well, you better call Tilde, and let her know a live one is coming her way.”
“Ye took the words right out of me mouth.” With a spryness that had been long absent in her step, Mildred rushed over to the desk and made a phone call.
With a shaking hand, Rubric pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the sweat from his brow. Unlike Mildred, he hoped the lad changed his mind and stayed put, because nothing good ever came from revisiting the past.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA
The Hotel - Present Day
Twenty minutes later, the bus from the hotel came to an abrupt squelching halt on the graveled road just outside the gates to the games.
Gavin grabbed the bar for support and stood up. Unsteady on his feet, he walked to the front of the bus behind the rest of the people and waited his turn to disembark. He felt like his innards were tumbling hither and yon. “Thank ye for the ride,” he said as he took his turn to leave and tossed the driver a coin on his way down the steps.
“Anytime,” the driver called. He looked down at the gold coin in his hand and then back to the Highlander’s departing form with widened eyes.
With an uneven gate, Gavin took his time and followed the rest of the people who just unloaded from the bus, passing through the entrance and up the hill to where the games were to be held.
A sense of foreboding settled upon him with each step he took. Shivering, he pulled his plaid closer about his shoulders. There was a bone chilling dampness in the air reminding him of the cooler climes of Scotland. He wasn’t sure what or who, he was even looking for but he knew he would know, if and when, he saw it, or them.
The sun broke through the clouds above, shining down on this side of the mountain with intensity.
The games were already in full swing, even at this early hour and there were plenty of folk dressed in Scottish garb, another reminder of his home. And even though their attire wasn’t accurate by any means, it was still interesting to watch them.
Two young lads were bickering with one another and suddenly broke into a bought of fisticuffs which immediately reminded him of Callum and Muir. How he missed them both, he thought ruefully as he continued to walk past the tents with wares being sold. Again, he couldn’t help notice the knives and swords that we pretty ta look at but would do no good in battle because not one of them was sharpened properly. Shaking his head, he walked farther up the hill toward the last brightly stripped tent that was set up. An ominous quality surrounded it and he knew at once that was where he would find the gypsy to send him back to his own time.
CHAPTER THIRTY -THREE
HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA
The Hotel - Present Day
Stretching lazily, Paige rolled over and opened her eyes. The curtains were open and the sun, although it was up, was hidden behind gray fat-bellied clouds. Her heart sank at the sight. She knew what that meant—she would have to take Gavin to the games unless she could think of some other excuse not to bring him again. Which she highly doubted that she could. Heaving a weary sigh of defeat, she sat up and looked towards the chair where Gavin had taken up residence for most of the time they had been here. But he wasn’t there.
That was odd. She thought for sure he would be watching television.
A tremor of unease swept through her as she turned towards the bathroom. The door was open and the shower wasn’t on. The awful feeling settling against her worsened.
“Gavin,” she called, pulling the covers off her body.
No answer.
Paige swung her legs over the bed, her heart pounding uncontrollably. “Gavin,” she called again, louder this time.
Still no answer.
Jumping up from bed, her feet hit the carpet with a soft thud. Crossing the room, she made her way over to the bathroom and looked inside.
It was empty.
“Oh, no. No!”
She tried to tell herself he must have just stepped outside for a moment but she 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 ar
e 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 her wits end, Paige ducked under a canvas flap and ran into another tent. This one had more knives and swords inside. Frustrated, she pushed past a crowd of people standing idly by chitchatting with one another and headed back outside. “How many stupid tents are here?”
Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two Page 29
