Meehall: A Time Travel Romance (Dunskey Castle Book 10)

by Jane Stain

  Smoke whinnied when Meehall entered the dark stable. For the first time ever, he was glad no stablehand ran out to greet him. Not bothering with the saddle, Meehall led his horse out around the back of the tavern and bade him stand against the wall so he could stand on his back and have something to lean on.

  With a sigh of relief, he just barely was able to push open the shutters and crawl up into his room.

  It was darker inside and took his eyes a few moments to adjust. When they did, he couldn't believe he saw Sarah lying there.

  "Ye are quite resourceful," she said, smiling mischievously.

  "And ye are some aught else again." He grabbed her wrist and brought her downstairs, out to Smoke, and with the horse into the stable. "I could hae fallen tae my death."

  She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow. "Aye? And what if the inn had caught fire? I could hae burned tae my death."

  What was she talking about? "Ye fully ken I would na allow ye tae burn."

  She turned her hand over the way a magician would when saying, ‘Voila!’ "And ye fully ken Smoke would na allow ye tae fall."

  Rather than admit she had a point, he changed the subject. "I suppose ye heard then, aboot the Gordons gang with us tae rescue yer friends."

  "Aye, and I also heard ’twas na yer idea."

  He relaxed his grip on her wrist a little as he guided her back to the tavern door. "I could dae with a few hoors sleep in a bed instead o’ on the floor." He gave her a look meant to shame her.

  But she lowered her chin at him. "Ye had plenty o’ sleep in a bed yesterday."

  But it wasn't to be in any case. When they entered the tavern, the cooking fires were now lit, and several people were already drinking their morning ale — Angus and Emil among them.

  Angus beckoned them over. "I see ye ken the plan, Sarah. Dinna fash. We wull return yer clanswomen tae ye."

  Emil scooted over and made room for them. "’Tis good tae see the two o’ ye holding hands. We were a bit fashed ye would hae annulments after we saw ye sleeping in the hallway."

  Everybody laughed. Including Sarah.

  ***

  Meehall and Smoke had made this trip down to Cameron camp and back a few times, so there were no surprises for him along the way.

  But every time he turned in the saddle to check on Sarah, he saw her smiling the slightest bit at the scenery. He'd long grown accustomed to the Highlands, and her delight at them despite her fear and guilt over her friends reminded him of one reason why he had settled here.

  The Gordons had agreed they should approach Cameron camp from the other direction this time, the surprise of coming down from the mountain having been ruined. And so the path they took deviated a bit from the way they had come the night before. Instead of mostly mountains and one large river, this time they rode through forests and one large meadow.

  When they were about an hour away from the Camerons, Meehall stopped Smoke and turned him to face the Gordons. "We wull be under watch soon."

  Angus nodded his agreement, as did the other dozen Gordons who accompanied them.

  Emil pulled his horse up next to Smoke. "We wull enter from the east, where 'tis mostly meadows and they canna get a good shot at us from the trees. If we all ride as a unit, we wull be more imposing than if we trickle in by ones and twos."

  Meehall patted Emil’s shoulder. "I thank ye for the solidarity. Such a show o’ strength wull be enough for them tae release the lasses."

  He felt Sarah squeezing him from behind and patted her on the thigh. “Truly, Sarah, two lasses are hardly worth spilling blood ower. Dinna fash."

  He was fairly sure of what he said, but it was a tense ride through the meadow and up the slight hill before Cameron camp. He didn't see the watch, but he knew they were there. He refused to look this way and that. The Gordons were doing a great job at seeming resolute, unwavering, and he didn't want to put himself to shame in comparison.

  They rode up over the hill as an imposing unit —and found Cameron camp deserted. Not a tent could be seen, nor any people. Flat areas of grass assured him this was the place.

  He rode around until he found the spot where the lasses had been tied together and where the three of them had gone up the cliff. This was the spot, but the Cameron clan had moved on.

  Sarah was in tears. "Nadia! Ellie! Ye hae tae be here…"

  Under the shade of a tree, he handed her down from Smoke’s back and gave her the reins. "We wull find their tracks, Sarah. ’Tis na ower. Walk him aboot a bit, but ride away at the first sign o’ any stranger."

  Her eyes had been dead with despair, but when he said tracks, her face bloomed with hope. She clung to his hand.

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before he went off to join the other Highlanders. She was counting on him. He couldn’t let her down.

  Meehall was decent at tracking, but Angus and Emil were better. He would've taken everyone directly south, as it was the easiest way to leave the cliffside, but Emil found the real trail. It went north, further up into the Highlands.

  Sarah smiled tentatively at Meehall when he came back to get her. "Ye did find their trail. I can see it in yer face. Sorry I am tae hae doubted ye." She reached up.

  He helped her mount behind him on Smoke, and they rode off with their new Gordon friends.

  A hundred Camerons with as many horses and twice as many cattle left a heckuva trail, even though they had gone single file at first, in an attempt not to.

  Angus took off ahead of them at a trot. "They are na long gone. We hae a chance o’ catching up!"

  They had trotted their horses almost as far as was prudent when they arrived in a large circle where the Camerons had all gathered around for rest.

  Meehall checked along the perimeter for the footprints leading out, but couldn’t find them. Telling himself to suck it up, He went to ask Emil which way.

  But Angus and Emil and all the others were still going up and down the area, looking for even a single-file pathway out. They went over and over and over the area, breaking first for the noonday meal and then for supper. They spent hours looking for the way everyone had left here. But they found none. The Cameron clan had disappeared into thin air.

  Sarah whispered in his ear, “How many Druids must they hae, tae travel with sae many people and horses and cattle? I did na ken there were sae many Druids in the waurld!"

  “I dinna ken,” he whispered back. “I hope Eoin wull ken how tae find them sae we dinna hae tae ask Kelsey."

  From the way no one spoke of it, he knew the Gordons also suspected magic. But all they did was eventually grunt that it was time to go, they had been gone long enough from their own cattle and their own lasses.

  The ride back to Gordon camp was less cheerful. There were no jokes, no laughter. Their camp that night didn't have any happy stories. They were all sad stories of loss and yearning.

  Meehall shook forearms with Angus and Emil in front of the stable in Gordon camp the next day. “I thank ye for coming tae help us rescue my wife's clanswomen. The Gordons and the Murrays are on good terms, and I look forward tae the day we meet again."

  Meehall jumped up on Smoke in front of Sarah, and off they went. The day's ride was full of practical conversation. How many provisions had she in her pack and he in his saddlebags. Whether she should ride in the front sometimes —which he allowed. How far they could ride before they had to walk Smoke, and how far they needed to walk him before they could ride again. How many people were in Murray camp, the names of his sons and the prominent people she would meet in his clan.

  But try as he might, Meehall couldn't get them to Murray camp in one day. The two of them had to make camp alone.

  9

  Sarah pulled a log up closer to Meehall’s campfire and sat down, taking her backpack off so that she could rummage around inside. “I hae all the modern conveniences in this nifty pack Lauren's auld work gave Kelsey. All we need is boiling water." She filled the little one-cup teapot from the creek nearby and sat patiently w
aiting for the fire to burn down to coals.

  "Oh?" He was trying not to sound excited, but he was.

  She knew him. He normally was lithe and graceful, so the jerkiness of his motions as he added larger sticks to the fire gave him away.

  "Aye,” she said nonchalantly. It wouldn’t do to let him see she enjoyed his delight in what she had brought. “I even hae fruit punch, if there's aught we can mix it in. I dinna think we should put sugar in the water skin." She rummaged around in her bag some more and came up with a collapsible plastic water bottle. "Perfect." She went and filled that in the stream as well, taking the opportunity to pet Smoke’s neck as she passed him.

  When she got back, Meehall had taken over her log.

  "Hey, that's mine." She put her hands on her hips to make her indignation more convincing, when in reality she wanted nothing more right now than to go sit with him.

  He scooted over absentmindedly while stirring the fire with a long stick. "Sae what are ye fixing for supper?" He was trying to be cheerful for her sake, she could tell, but his face was just as concerned about the disappearing Camerons as it had been earlier. Though now it was starting to glow handsomely from the fire in the dying sunlight.

  "Well,” she said, “Oor supper was gaun'ae be a surprise, but syne ye asked. We wull hae meat lovers’ lasagna complete with dried garlic bread." She took out the individual serving packages and showed him the pictures.

  He studied them. "PenUlt. That would be the outfit Lauren used tae work for?"

  She tore her eyes away from his strong slender fingers to look where he was pointing. A logo. "Aye. I had na noticed."

  He abruptly pulled away. "The coals are ready. Let us set that water tae boiling. I hae na tasted lasagna in quite a long time." He used the stick to make a relatively flat surface of the hottest coals.

  She placed the small kettle on this surface. "Should na be long." The temptation to scoot over close to him was almost palpable, and she had to fight it every second, coming up with other places to put her hands besides near him, where he might take hold of them.

  Why hadn’t he pulled up his own log? Probably didn't even occur to him. Lucky guy.

  Maybe if they talked about something they both knew well, that would take up all their attention. "Remember the year we joined the English peasants guild on a lark and they decided tae be the town militia?"

  It worked. He rocked up and down with laughter. "Aye, I wull never forget it. I had tae teach ye tae fight with the quarterstaff. Ye were pretty good at it. Hae ye kept that up any?"

  "Come on, when would I practice quarterstaff—"

  The way he cut her off made her think he was deliberately steering the conversation away from the modern world, but she couldn't be sure. His eyes were lively and dazzling as ever, and she kept hers away from them as much as possible, lest she be caught and drawn in. "The funniest part o’ that was when Conall said ye would never learn, sae Ashley made him teach her as wull!"

  She couldn't help it, she burst out laughing too. "Was na that the best irony ever? If I dare say it myself, I was much better at it than she."

  "Aye, ye were. Gabe had his work cut oot for him. Served him right.” He rushed on to another subject, plainly not wishing her to ask after his twin. “But speaking o’ not doing things wull, dae ye still hae the faire costume ye made? I will never forget how beautiful ye looked in it — nor Mither's face when she first saw it!" He slapped his knee, he was laughing at her so hard.

  The kettle whistled, saving her from having to admit that yes, she did still have that costume. She had worked so hard on it. She still wore it on occasion.

  She poured boiling water into both packages of lasagna, sealed them up, and set them down on the ground near their log, leaning against some rocks.

  He reached for his.

  She stopped his hand, then let go before he could hold her hand in return or even think it was like that between them. It wasn’t. "It has tae sit a minute, or ye will na like it verra much." She got out the dried garlic bread and offered him his. "Here, we can eat this while we wait."

  He took his, but he didn't open it. "Och, nay. Ye hae tae dip the garlic bread in the lasagna, ye ken."

  They sat next to each other in amiable silence, willing the water to soak into the lasagna so they could enjoy it. She couldn't help but look over at him occasionally, and she saw how the fire now danced on his face in the twilight, making the angles of his cheekbones and jaw look especially masculine.

  "One minute gone." He grabbed his packet of lasagna, tore it open, and stopped cold. "Ye hae any spoons?"

  She snapped out of watching his muscular movements. "Och, aye." She dug around in the pack until she found extra-strong but feather-light plastic flatware —conveniently tucked into a flap that folded down, if she'd only studied the pack ahead of time to know where they were kept.

  They munched quietly, watching the fire.

  "Ye mentioned fruit punch?"

  What was wrong with her? "Och, aye. Here." She opened the plastic bottle and drank a good half of the punch before handing it over. "Ye wull leave me none once ye taste it. ’Tis verra good, and my bet is ye have na had this in forever either."

  He took the bottle and toasted her, then drank it all down in three gulps.

  "I hear John defied your parents and stayed with Jaelle."

  His face closed to her. "Then ye also heard he chickened oot at the last moment and did na marry her." He put a joking tone in his voice, but she could tell he meant what he said next. "Dinna tell him I said sae."

  This was news. "John is here, in this time?"

  He was scraping the last of his lasagna out of his packet with his remoistened garlic bread. "Aye, and syne we dinna want tae bring Kelsey in, he is oor best hope for finding Nadia and Ellie. Eoin is at Murray camp watching the boys. We wull see him tomorrow. O’ course, he goes by Eoin in this time."

  “I would hae stayed with ye, despite the family curse, if ye only had given me the chance tae." She looked over at him. She knew this was a taboo subject, but she had to try, and this seemed like the best chance she was going to get.

  He had picked up his stir stick and was separating the coals so they would burn out quickly. He looked up at the sky and then over where Smoke munched grass near the creek. "It wull be dark soon. Dae ye want tae watch the last o’ the coals, or wull ye go and get the blankets and lay them oot?"

  “I wull watch the coals."

  He balanced the fire stirrer on the ground and lowered his hand toward the middle of it so that her hand was nowhere near his when she took hold of the stick.

  She used every bit of her willpower to watch the fire and not his magnificent kilted form as he walked over to Smoke and got the blanket. Stirring the coals was a good distraction. She was grateful for the opportunity to watch the embers glow when she blew on them to make them burn out faster. So many memories with Meehall at faire were swirling through her mind: all the set dances they did to the music of fiddle and bodhran. The play they had tried to do and failed miserably. Peeling potatoes for the guild's stew. So many starry nights like this one when they walked the empty fairgrounds together after hours, making plans for a future they were so sure they would share.

  She shivered. Starry nights were beautiful, but they were cold. She used her fancy leather backpack as a pillow and got in, between the blankets, with Meehall.

  "Yer teeth are chattering." He turned his back to her and pulled her up behind him as if they were once more on the horse. "Take my warmth. Ye need it."

  And so, despite all her efforts, here she was. In bed with the man she wished loved her enough to make it work.

  10

  Meehall kissed Sarah again, soft and gentle to show her all the love he felt for her, all the joy she brought to his life.

  She kissed him back with passionate devotion, the way she always had.

  “I was meant tae be with ye,” he told her breathlessly. “I feel it in my bones.”

  “As dae I,�
�� she responded, enthusiastically beginning another session of married bliss.

  Hours later, when she lay peacefully sleeping in his arms, he ruminated. Why had his parents been so insistent that he leave her behind? It was working out fine. Birth control was a thing. There was nothing to worry about. They would have two kids and then stop.

  In the morning, he put his arm around his wife and turned with her to look out the window of their modest cottage in the Highlands.

  Inevitably, they turned and grinned at each other at how fun it had been to choose an old home that had been here for centuries. They could visit any time they wanted and still know the lay of the land.

  She snuggled up closer to him, and he savored the warmth of her embrace as well as the sweet apple scent of her hair.

  Nature called, spoiling the mood.

  He pulled away from her to go take care of it —and woke up in Sarah's arms under the rising sun, with Smoke nickering beside the nearby stream.

  This infatuation with Sarah was getting dangerous. He hadn't realized he was dreaming. It had seemed so real, and she had looked at him with such love in her eyes. He needed to watch himself.

  When he got back to their nearly dead fire, Sarah was up.

  Face washed and hair brushed, she was rummaging around inside that fascinating leather pack of hers. "I hae cold granola with dried milk for breakfast," she said when she saw him, trying to suppress her expectant smile.

  He couldn't help but smile back in anticipation as he reached for the packet she held out "Dae ye aim tae spoil me for the rugged Scottish life tae which I hae grown accustomed?" He took his first bite, then closed his eyes in ecstasy as he chewed and tasted the grainy flavors he used to savor every morning, years ago. "Ye remember."

  She smugly ate her own granola. "O’ course I dae. I remember all sorts o’ things ye did.”

  “Will it be sorry I am, for asking what?”

  She winked. “Aye, could verra wull be ye will. Dae ye recall how ye could na be withoot yer phones, Gabe and ye?”

  It was a fond memory, covertly texting with his twin. It really was. And all the more because Sarah shared it.