Highlander's Heart: A Scottish Historical Time Travel Romance (Called by a Highlander Book 3)

by Mariah Stone

  Kate licked her lips and looked around. It certainly didn’t look like anyone had missed her or suffered without her presence.

  “Come, let’s talk.” Kate tugged Mandy after herself into the kitchen.

  There, a new cook flew between the grill and the griddle, flipping burgers and pancakes. Pies baked in the oven. Everything looked clean and organized. But where was the cook Kate had hired to replace her?

  “How have you been?” Kate asked. “I was so worried you’d have one of your episodes and wouldn’t be able to manage everything alone.”

  Mandy waved her hand. “I was worried, too, but to be honest, I’ve really enjoyed managing the restaurant. I hope you don’t mind, but I did put a couple of changes into practice. We went even more traditional with the menu, and people poured in. I hired Rob.” She looked at the cook who grinned at her. “He’s been great.”

  A twinge of jealousy twisted Kate’s gut.

  “So you’ve been doing great without me?”

  “Well, yes, hon. We’re even making more of a profit, so I repaid some of the debt. Bankruptcy isn’t such an immediate threat anymore.”

  Kate nodded. “That’s great, Mandy!”

  Mandy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, hon. Please don’t tell me you want to change everything back to the way it was before.”

  “No, no. Of course not. If the new menu has been working, we should keep it.”

  Mandy smiled, clenching her hands. Kate looked around awkwardly.

  “What about Logan Robertson?” Mandy asked. “When are they coming?”

  “I have some bad news. Logan Robertson isn’t coming. I’m afraid I screwed up the program, and I’m out.”

  Mandy frowned. “Oh no! What happened?”

  I traveled back in time, lost my memory, and met the love of my life.

  “Well, he hit on me, and I stopped him.”

  “Oh my gosh…are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. But unfortunately, the whole TV show thing isn’t happening.”

  Mandy sighed. “Oh. Darn.”

  “Are you mad?”

  Mandy looked around the restaurant. Every single table was occupied. Clanks of cutlery, chatter, and occasional laughter filled the room.

  “No,” Mandy said and hugged Kate around the shoulders with one arm. “Screw him if he wanted to do anything to you. And look, we don’t even need him.”

  Kate’s eyes blurred with tears. “You’re right. We don’t.”

  “But tell me one thing. If you weren’t preparing for the show, where have you been then all this time?”

  Ugh. Kate hated lying. What could she say that would be true without going into specifics? “I stayed to learn from the locals. I met someone who knows how to cook Crazy Mary.”

  “Excuse me!” Through the serving hatch, Kate saw one of the customers she didn’t recognize wave his hand at Mandy.

  “I better go,” Mandy said. “You go upstairs and have a rest after your long journey, okay? I know you want to work, but don’t.”

  She squeezed Kate’s shoulder. “Rob and I got this, sis, really. Don’t worry.”

  Kate nodded, feeling like a third wheel.

  “I was expecting you’d need me to start cooking right away—but okay.”

  “No, no.” Mandy laughed, kissed Kate, and went to see what the customer needed.

  Kate hesitated a moment more, then walked out of the kitchen. She picked up her luggage and went upstairs. Even the apartment looked tidier and fresher. She went into Jax’s room and kissed the top of his head. He was a handsome and a smart boy with his mom’s blond hair and his dad’s brown eyes.

  “You grew,” Kate said through tears, looking at his suddenly so-grown-up face. “You’re such a big boy.”

  Or was she tearing up because he also didn’t need her anymore?

  “Aunt Kate!” He giggled, evading her embrace in that shy, boyish way.

  She gave him the chocolates she’d bought at the airport and chatted with him about how he and Mandy had been doing.

  When she entered her bedroom, it smelled like wood and dusty blankets and old books. The scent brought the sense of anxiety back to her chest as she thought of her usual dull life, a life without Ian. She put the luggage in the corner and lay on her bed. Even her limbs felt like she didn’t know what to do with them.

  And inside, she couldn’t help feeling like she were a splinter that had caused inflammation. When she’d gone to Scotland, the splinter had been removed, and the system had healed itself. And now she was back, trying to fit into the old wound.

  But she was unnecessary. External. Harmful.

  They’d been fine without her. And, surprisingly, she’d been fine without them. More than fine.

  She’d been so happy there. So deliriously happy with Ian, in that world full of danger and castles and war. And medieval cooking that she enjoyed more than she could have ever imagined. There, Ian had appreciated her dishes like no one ever had. Here, she wasn’t needed. In fact, under Mandy’s supervision, the restaurant was doing better than it ever had under Kate’s.

  Why was that? Was it because Kate had always tried to implement something new, something unusual when all people wanted was traditional cooking? Was it because Kate had always thought she wasn’t good enough and the feeling had created negative energy? Or maybe it was her demeanor? She’d never had a smile on her face like Mandy did. Maybe the customers had felt some distance with her, whereas they absolutely loved Mandy.

  In any case, Kate couldn’t imagine herself here anymore. She supposed she needed a bit more time to adjust to modern life. Her chest throbbed, her head and throat ached. It was as though she was hungry for Ian. Her hands itched to find him, to touch him, to feel his powerful presence near and around her. She longed for Dundail and Cadha and even grumpy Manning.

  Over the next few days, Kate tried to adjust to her new reality. She went to work in the restaurant and was amazed to see how much smoother everything ran under Mandy’s control. While Kate was cooking, Mandy managed the restaurant. She negotiated better prices with the supplier, something Kate had never been able to do. She reduced the number of dishes on the menu.

  “People never ordered some dishes, so I left only the most popular ones.”

  That allowed Kate and Rob to precook certain things and serve dishes faster while maintaining their quality. Mandy suggested a new system of order placements that was much quicker and clearer for the waiters and the cooks.

  There were more customers, higher tips, and more profit. And while she saw a big smile of satisfaction on Mandy’s face as her sister directed the staff confidently and chatted to the customers, Kate felt more and more out of place.

  In the beginning, it had felt like Kate was doing Mandy a favor by letting her help in Deli Luck. Now it felt like Mandy was the one doing the favor.

  While it was great to be back with her family, dissatisfaction grew stronger and stronger inside Kate. What was the point of her even being in the restaurant? Rob cooked as well as Kate. Mandy had gotten the place back on its feet.

  And then she realized. By not taking care of Mandy and Jax, she’d allowed them to flourish and become independent.

  Was it possible they didn’t need her anymore?

  A week after Kate had returned, she sat in the living room one evening with Mandy and Jax. Her family, the two people she was closest to in the world. The two people she’d lived for.

  Was it time she tried to live for herself? Now that the restaurant wasn’t struggling, she could finally think about what she wanted.

  What she wanted was for Ian to love her. For them to be together. But that wasn’t possible.

  So she had to do something in this century. And that something didn’t lie in Cape Haute anymore.

  “I’m thinking about leaving,” she said.

  Mandy’s face fell. Jax’s eyebrows rose to his hairline and he climbed onto the couch to sit next to Kate.

  “Aunt Kate, don’t you want to live with us a
nymore?”

  “Well, your mom has been doing so great without me, I think I’ll only be a burden.”

  Mandy frowned. “No, sweetie, never. It has always been the two of us against the world.”

  “Yes. But I don’t think you need me to take care of you anymore. You’ve actually been doing much better on your own.”

  Mandy bit her lip and picked at her fingernails. “I’ve been enjoying running things… But it doesn’t mean I don’t need you. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  “I know.” Kate smiled. “I love you, too, Mandy. But I’ve always felt out of place in Cape Haute. And you fit much better here. I think I’m going to leave and start something of my own.”

  “Really?”

  Kate’s smile broadened. Now that the words were out, lightness filled her body. It felt right, like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “Yeah. If you’re okay with it. I’ll still send money for Jax’s college fund. But I don’t think I can stay here anymore and be happy. You were right, I’ve always wanted something else. It’s time to act on it.”

  “Kate… I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?”

  Kate looked into her sister’s eyes. All these years, everything that Kate had become, had been because of Mandy. To provide for her, to take care of her.

  A lifetime together connected them. And Kate was grateful for the time she’d had with her sister. But she saw it in Mandy’s eyes, and they both knew, they’d outgrown each other. It was time for Kate to move on—but also for Mandy.

  “I’ll miss you, Kate,” Mandy said, smiling through tears.

  Jax hugged her. “And I’ll miss you, Aunt Kate.”

  Kate’s eyes burned from tears. “Me, too.”

  She hugged Jax back and kissed his head, inhaling the familiar homey scent of him.

  “Where will you go?” Mandy wiped her eyes.

  Kate wanted to say she’d go back to Ian. But Ian didn’t want her. Her stomach sank at the thought, every cell of her body hurting. She shook her head. She needed to learn to live without him. A new life where she’d be independent and could finally realize her dream of creating the restaurant she wanted. A weird one. A mix. That was what she’d always imagined New York must be—a mix of everything. Surely, she’d find her customers there.

  “New York,” she said.

  But her heart whispered that she may realize her dream in New York, but she’d never be truly happy or complete without the red-haired Highlander. The Highlander who was kinder and more powerful than anyone she knew—in this time or in the past.

  The Highlander who could never love her back.

  Chapter 32

  “Nae, cousin, ye didna die.”

  The voice penetrated Ian’s consciousness, strangely distant, as if echoing in a deep chamber. The voice sounded familiar, and Ian made an effort to open his eyes.

  His eyelids felt as though they were made of iron, his body heavy and wet. At least he hadn’t burned to death in that hell of high fever he’d inhabited for what felt like his whole life.

  “I didna die?” Ian croaked.

  He finally managed to open one eye. Owen sat by his side, his face dark against the gray sunlight filtering through the window behind him.

  “Ye’re alive, although ye do look like a corpse.”

  “Did I ask if I died?”

  “Aye.”

  “Oh.” Ian smacked his dry lips. “I hoped I were dead.”

  He’d hoped the misery of existence without Kate would end.

  Owen brought a cup to Ian’s face and held his head. Ian drank the cool water, which felt like life being poured back into him.

  “Why are ye here?” Ian asked when Owen put the cup away. “Not that I’m nae glad to see ye.”

  “Ye’ve been lying in fever for days, delirious, calling fer Kate.”

  Her name brought a heavy weight to Ian’s chest. Anguish stiffened him like a muscle cramp, painful and powerful. But there was no muscle he could move to make the ache go away. What was he going to do without her? He’d had a purpose before, to protect her. To help her get back home.

  Now all that was left was emptiness. The last place she’d ever touched him was here. She’d lain in the bed with him, worried for him and so bonnie it had pained him to look at her.

  She’d said she’d stay for him…

  “She’s gone now,” Ian said. “So it doesna matter.”

  Owen narrowed his eyes. “Cousin. I recognize the look. I saw it on Craig when Amy was gone.”

  Ah, Craig’s new wife. The woman who’d made Craig deliriously happy. “’Tis different.”

  Ian shifted to sit up, but his head spun. His wounds ached. The one on his thigh pained him the most. The ones on his chest and his arm ached and scratched—signs of healing.

  “What are ye doing here?” Ian repeated the question, attempting to distract Owen from speaking of Kate…and also to think of something besides the pain.

  “I came to deliver a message to Kenneth MacKenzie from the Bruce, and they told me ye were gravely wounded. I couldna leave until I saw ye were getting better.”

  It felt better than Ian could admit that there was someone he knew, someone from his clan who was there for him. “Aye, thank ye, Owen. How is Bruce’s campaign?”

  “The east and most of the Highlands are ours. We’re moving to put the decisive blow to the MacDougalls and fight the scattered English troops that are coming.”

  “Good. What of Dundail?”

  “All fine. What are ye going to do now? Join Bruce?”

  Ian closed his eyes for a moment. The truth was, he had no idea what he’d do. He’d committed himself to a life of misery for being a killer, and now he had to go through with his punishment.

  “I’ll go home,” he said. “Protect my lands. Continue training my people to protect themselves. They are nae warriors. And they need to be, especially these days.”

  “Aye,” Owen said. “They do.”

  Days passed in dark, torturous waiting. Waiting to get better. Waiting for the pain in his soul to subside. Waiting for his head to stop spinning around Kate.

  He couldn’t help wondering if she was all right. If her inn worked like she wanted it to. Wishing she were here. Remembering her every word, every touch, every smile.

  It must have taken him half the moon after Owen’s visit to finally be able to rise and walk.

  He went to the underground storeroom, the last place she’d been in his world. He searched for her presence, and thought he could smell her scent—although he knew it was impossible. He found the rock. It was just like Kate had described, the handprint and the carving right there. And next to it, the head scarf she’d worn when she’d cooked. He took it in his hands and studied it. There was a thin golden hair that glowed silver in the light of his torch. Ian stroked the strand of hair, then buried his face in the scarf, sucking in the scent of her that still remained. His whole being expanded, and everything brightened up around him.

  He’d never see her again. What a fool he’d been to chase away the one thing in his life that made him feel whole. He wrapped the scarf around his wrist and tied it. He’d keep it with him always as a reminder of the woman who’d loved him without conditions.

  In two sennights, he went home to Dundail. On the way, he saw her ghost in the woods. A flicker of blond hair from behind a tree. Heard her voice calling for him. He knew he was wishing for her to be back—there were no ghosts, and she wasn’t here. But even thinking of her like that brought him some small satisfaction, some sort of relief from the agonizing black hole that had taken the place of his heart.

  When he arrived home, Cadha met him with an angry cackle, berating him for almost dying for the second time. Without hesitation, and without listening to him, she sent him straight up to his bedchamber. She made a fire in the fireplace and told him she’d bring him bread and cheese, and that Manning would make stew whether he wanted it or not.

  Ian would normally obj
ect, but he was exhausted and still in pain and had no strength to argue with Cadha about unimportant things.

  What was important was that Kate wasn’t here. She’d have made a magical stew for him. Although, Manning’s slop did taste better this time, surprisingly.

  The next few days passed, similar to one another in their gray indifference. Under Cadha’s strict supervision, Ian was regaining his health. He had created a training plan for his people, and when he felt well enough, called upon them to come and train in sword-fighting every day. He was still stiff and aching, but he made himself move and supervise the practice.

  The tacksmen had come a few days after his arrival with more rent than Ian had thought he was entitled to—they had changed their ways and were no longer stealing from him. It seemed, his people were thankful for his protection and had united in spirit against the enemy.

  It was a late August night, after the training, when Ian sat on the edge of the loch, mindlessly throwing pebbles into the deep waters. The loch was still, its surface a pink-and-violet reflection of the sky. Mountains on the other side were black against the sunset, looking like the backs of sleeping giants.

  The English hadn’t returned yet, and Ian had heard rumors they’d been called back south by their king. But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t bother them again. It didn’t mean the war was won.

  “’Tis a lonely life,” said a male voice behind him.

  Ian looked over his shoulder. Manning stood there, wiping his hands on the clean apron that had become a habit for him.

  “I ken what a lonely life is,” he added.

  Without an invitation, he sat on the shore next to Ian.

  “Aye. I suppose a lonely life isna new to me, either,” Ian said.

  “Yer father was so lonely without yer mother. He was a different man before he lost her.”

  “Then ’tis in the family.”

  They kept silent for a moment.

  “Ye’re just like him now,” Manning said. “After the lass left. After ye came back alone. Lifeless. Like ye lost yer heart somewhere.”