Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5)

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Plight of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation Book 5) Page 9

by Sky Purington


  “What are ye afraid of?” He cocked his head. “‘Tis naught but a tree and a rope and some water.”

  Torra stood a little straighter at the taunt, at the unabashed challenge in his eyes. Well, she’d wipe that look right off his face. While it might be indecent to remove her chemise, the shoes and dress would definitely have to go so they didn’t weigh her down. Colin made no move to leave the water, just watched as she determinedly started to climb the tree.

  “There ye go, lass,” he cheered.

  Torra did not look down but kept focused on the climb. It didn’t matter in the least that she’d never climbed a tree before. In truth, she found the experience rather enjoyable if not downright fun. And she was good at it! Only when she reached the rope and looked down did she realize how high she actually was.

  “Now make your way down some with the rope, hold on tight and push off hard,” Colin yelled.

  Not afraid in the least, Torra did just that, excited. She couldn’t remember ever smiling so much. Determined to savor the moment, she braced herself against the tree, tilted back her head and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face.

  That moment would prove to be one she would think about many times over the years. The way the bark had felt against her skin. The way the sun covered her face. But what made it all that much more profound were Colin’s words from below, said just loud enough that they whispered on the wind.

  “Ye are so bloody beautiful.”

  Her eyes found his in an instant. He waited, breathless it seemed, as he stared up at her. It was the first time she saw herself through another’s eyes. How the sun ignited her multi-colored hair and her chemise brushed against her skin in the wind. But even as she saw the appreciation in his gaze she looked back at him with matched desire. Without doubt, Colin MacLeod was remarkably handsome but she suddenly saw beyond his outer appearance to the man behind the face. Stunned, she couldn’t pull her eyes away as her initial feelings upon meeting him once more flared.

  I know your soul. Somehow I always have.

  “Come on then, lass,” he whispered, but she heard him regardless. “‘Tis time.”

  Blinking several times, she ripped free of the revelation and offered a jerky nod as she held the rope tight and pulled back. Caught somewhere between the intense feelings she’d just had and the sudden exhilaration of swinging from the tree, Torra squealed.

  It felt like she was flying!

  Torra let go of the rope once it had swung out to its furthest point. Then she was falling fast and let out another squeal of delight as wind rushed by her face.

  She smiled when she hit the water.

  Though she swam plenty of times in the loch as a bairn, many years had passed since. Kicking her legs, she burst through the surface and laughed. Colin laughed as well and pulled her in until she could stand. Then they just continued to laugh and splash and…play. Or at least that was what it felt like as they bantered with words, challenged one another in swimming contests and even skimmed rocks. Then they’d swing from the rope again and again.

  Later that day, they lay in a wide patch of grass not that far from the river, content to enjoy the sun and silence. But then it really wasn’t all that silent. The wind swayed the trees, brushing the branches together. Fish jumped. Birds chirped. Nay, there was plenty of sound to be had in a highland forest without saying a word.

  Torra even dozed at some point because when next she opened her eyes, Colin was no longer laying on his back staring up at the trees but on his side, head propped in his hand as he studied her.

  “What?” she whispered.

  Colin pressed his lips together as if ready to deliver dire news. “‘Tis a thing to know I look upon the most bonnie lass ever born to Scotland.”

  Flattered but well aware it was likely a line he had said many times before she replied, “And what think the other lasses when ye say such?”

  While she thought she’d bring forth a grin with her clever statement, his lips turned down a fraction. “Mayhap you didnae hear me clearly.” But then he grew more determined and tiny flecks of fire lit his eyes. “Or mayhap ye dinnae truly see in yourself what I see.”

  Now propped up on her elbows, she kept her eyes locked with his and waited. If keeping to a tower for so long and repressing what lie within had taught her anything, it was that observing rather than speaking wasn’t always such a bad thing.

  Yet it seemed Colin was not going to elaborate. Instead, he took her hand. “I came here before ye arrived, searched out that tree then hung the rope with purpose.”

  Taken aback by his thoughtfulness, she said, “Thank ye. ‘Twas great fun.”

  Colin nodded and his eyes dropped as he struggled with something. “Fun isnae something ye’ve had much of for far too long. ‘Twas important.” Then his eyes met hers. “But ‘twas not my sole purpose for doing such.”

  “What was then?”

  His thumb gently rubbed her palm, gaze direct. “I wanted ye to feel the sensation of flying…if only for a moment.”

  Torra sucked in her lower lip on a small inhalation when she realized why. “Because of…the dragon within.”

  “Aye,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to their entwined hands. “‘Tis not something to overly talk about. I just wanted ye to know.”

  It took several long moments for his explanation to sink in. When it did, her heart clenched. She closed her eyes, vividly recalling the delight, the absolute freedom she had felt when sailing through the air. A feeling that had given her such incredible happiness. Gods above…

  Colin MacLeod had given her just a small taste of what actual flight might feel like.

  Her eyes flew open when he pulled her to her feet.

  “Have ye been to the top of the Defiance yet?” he said.

  It seemed he didn’t want to overly focus on the kindness he had shown but instead chose to offer her more adventure. Torra shook her head. She couldn’t stop smiling. But the gods knew this constant happiness had not abated a moment since she met him. Well, mayhap those long hours when she returned to her tower in the MacLomain castle. But even then she found herself often grinning because she knew she would see him again.

  “Though the top of the Highland Defiance is often used for the chamber of whoever oversees the building ‘tis just a sitting area right now,” he enlightened.

  It was early afternoon and very few people were about when they arrived. Only a handful of clan folk sat around a fire lost in conversation. None paid any mind to them as they climbed the winding stairs that wrapped around and around along the inner wall. With no railing on one side and naught but a wall riddled with arrow slit windows on the other, it was fairly treacherous.

  At last they arrived at the top.

  “Come.” Colin pulled her through a narrow hallway into a hexagonally shaped chamber with a bench seat on each side and an oddly shaped window. It was round with an x shape inside, much like a too-symmetrical cross on a pedestal. Beneath it was a long, rectangular shape with Celtic symbols inscribed in it.

  “This.” Colin held her hands as he walked backward and glanced over his shoulder at the window. “Is the original Highland Defiance. ‘Tis what the building is named after.”

  It was so incredibly inconspicuous. But then Adlin MacLomain had built this and never once had he struck her as the flashy type. If anything, it seemed very much like Adlin to put something so powerful and important in an unassuming location.

  The sun shone brightly on the mountains beyond as they stood together in front of the window. Colin again took her breath away as he stared not at the beautiful view but at her. When he touched her cheek gently, she was startled by the contact. Pleasant warmth blossomed within. Since those first few dances they’d shared, he had not laid a finger on her. They’d but talked and talked since. She had shared far more than intended. But then she’d not been able to speak anything other than prophetic words for a very long time.

  As if he read her mind Colin said, “We have shared
so verra much in so little time. ‘Tis good but…”

  When he trailed off, she cocked her head, curious. “But what?”

  Colin hesitated another long moment before he at last spoke, emotion deepening his words. “Since first we met, I have thought of nothing else but you. I cannae quite explain…” Colin shook his head, struggling before his words grew surer. “Nay, I can explain.” He cupped her cheeks, gaze intent. “There isnae any denying it. I love ye, lass. Since the moment I laid eyes on ye. So verra much.”

  A tremor rocketed through her and Torra realized she was both frightened and relieved by his words. Frightened because her emotional response was so strong and she worried what kind of future they had. Relieved because…she felt the same.

  Torra couldn’t keep the tremble from her lips when she whispered, “I love ye too.”

  Colin knew she feared intimacy so instead of kissing her as he so clearly wanted to, he stroked her cheeks. His silvery eyes twirled with fire and his chest heaved with excitement. Then, as if her words had truly just sunk in, a wide smile split his face. In response, she couldn’t contain an equally wide smile.

  There was something so profoundly freeing in that moment, something far better than a swing off a rope or even traveling back in time.

  She was about to say as much when he ran his hands down her arms and shook his head. “This needs to be shared. Thank the gods we both hail from the same era. I will go to your chieftain and let him know my intentions.” Colin’s eyes widened and they might have been bairns for the light in his eyes. “But first I must tell Valan. He will never believe we both found love through the Defiance…here!”

  Pure joy fizzled in an instant.

  “What?” The happiness in his face faltered. “Ye look as though I have read your death sentence.” He shook his head and took another deep breath. “Nay, you’re right, I shouldnae rush to your Laird until—”

  Colin stopped speaking when she put a finger to his lips. Almost afraid to, she whispered, “Valan Hamilton?”

  There was a stretched moment of confusion as light and dark gray simmered within his eyes. He carefully pulled her finger from his lips, brows lowering slowly. As if nature was in on the moment, a cloud covered the sun and his face darkened. Colin started to shake his head then stopped, a few damning words whispered from his lips. “Nay, it cannae be.”

  Colin knew Valan. There could be no doubt. It had been one thing to find out she was part dragon, another thing entirely to realize that she had fallen in love with Valan’s friend. The two sensations though different, were brutally similar in their emotional punch.

  “I should have suspected this, but I was told so many time-traveled. How do ye know Valan,” Colin pushed past grim lips as he backed away.

  Bereft, she felt the loss of his hands on her face, the heat and warmth that had seconds before been theirs. Shaking her head, she reached out but he moved away.

  Colin pinched the bridge of his nose, took a few steps away then spun back, eyes meeting hers. “Ye are her.”

  “Who?” she started then stopped. Her eyes fell to the floor then she turned to look out the window, unable to hold his gaze. She had known they were all from the same era. Had some part of her purposefully avoided mentioning she knew another from their time? Had guilt truly ruled her that much? No doubt it had. But her time with Colin had been so wonderful and mayhap she had been afraid of losing such.

  Colin was having none of her avoidance now. He spun her and held her arms, eyes such a dark shade of gray they bordered black. “He loves you. Did ye know that when ye met me?” When she closed her eyes, he grasped her chin and ground out, voice laced with pain. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

  Torra might have chosen self-induced reclusion but she would only tolerate so much. Though she tore her chin from his grasp, she did not step away from the now furious highlander towering over her. Nay, she jutted her chin forward and looked him in the eye. “Aye, I knew it but I didnae feel the same.”

  Obviously unappeased by both her words and passion, Colin’s head pulled back and his eyes widened. “So ye knew there was a lad out there that cared for ye, but still ye turned eyes so easily to another?”

  Torra clenched her teeth, emotions brutally raw as she looked into his dumbfounded eyes. “Aye but not with intent. Ye were there and I,” she shook her head, fury growing as well, “and I couldnae bloody look away!”

  Colin clenched his fists. Shaking, he bit out, “We have shared so much. Why not once did ye mention that ye’d met another lad from the future?” He shook his head, livid. “Not once.”

  Tremors raked her from head to toe and guilt quickly replaced fury as she watched torture churn in his gaze. “I meant to. I should have.” She shook her head, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I just never expected things to…and then I became so caught up in…” Her words trailed into a whisper, “Then I feared I’d lose ye.”

  Torra would not give the entire truth. She’d not put Valan in a negative light. Not after all that she had already done.

  Colin raised his hands slightly as though he meant to pull her close while simultaneously pushing her away. Breath harsh, face stern, eyes rabid with emotion, he said, “I cannae do this. We cannae. I’m sorry. He’s my friend.”

  For the first time since she had learned she was part dragon, Torra felt the beast surface without the comfort of Iosbail or her chamber in the MacLomain castle. Eyes burning, she said, “I dinnae love him, Colin.” While the human part of her sought not to mention it, the beast within had no such issue. “Besides, he has another lass.”

  Colin paused but while she thought he might soften he instead closed off entirely, eyes leaden gray. “‘Tis less what ye did to him and that isnae good but more that ye were not honest with me to begin with. Again, I cannae do this.”

  “But I can,” she said without pause.

  “Why?” he said vehemently, pain in his eyes. “Better yet, how?”

  Torra slammed her hand down. “Because he loves another lass!”

  Startled, the past soon became the future and her hand rested on the table in a cottage along the North Sea.

  Memories vanished as she returned to the present.

  Valan and Colin stared at her, clearly astounded.

  The Colin from her past faded. In his place, a warrior that had since defected from his clan, served four winters beneath Keir Hamilton so that he might keep her safe. Across from him sat the tyrant’s son who was once his friend and first to love his lass…to love her.

  But none of that mattered as her harsh words resonated in the air.

  Because he loves another lass.

  Torra closed her eyes and shook her head, unwilling to look at either. But had she not ordered them to sit down so that she might try to settle the unrest between them? This certainly was not doing that. So she rallied her courage and opened her eyes.

  To Leslie.

  Hands on her hips, she’d just stopped in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot up then she flinched as she looked from man to man then at Torra. “Caught between a Hamilton and a MacLeod. Now that can never be good.”

  Malcolm came alongside, his sharp eyes assessing the situation. “Ye’ve the right o’ it lass.”

  Then Iosbail joined them, eyes narrowed on the three. “‘Tis an ill thing when I’ve got to seek out my guests so that they might come join the festivities, aye?”

  Although Torra had hoped to smooth out the tension between Colin and Valan, she’d made things ten times worse. Now there was a new strain between them all.

  Iosbail arched a brow at Torra. “Come now, aye?”

  Torra clenched her fist on the table, inhaled deeply then nodded. “Aye. I just need to change.”

  “As do I,” Colin said, his voice low, troubled, emotional.

  Leslie’s eyes shot from Colin to Valan then to Torra. Bless the lass when she said, “Need some help?”

  Iosbail eyed the Broun lass but said nothing.

  While Torra had no desi
re to be a coward, the thunderous looks on both Colin and Valan’s faces made her respond instantly. “Aye, ‘twould be welcome. Much thanks.”

  “Great.” Leslie entered.

  Torra knew that the futuristic lass felt like she was walking into a minefield, but she didn’t hesitate. Grateful, Torra led her into the back chamber.

  The minute the door shut behind them, Leslie’s eyes rounded and she nodded at the bed. “If you don’t know how to do it let me explain. We’ve arrived at the part in this story where you fling yourself back on the bed and sigh with relief that you haven’t got two really big Scotsmen glowering at you.” Leslie was relentless in her attack. “And trust me, they might glare something fierce but both wanna do things to you that’d make your head spin…in a really bad, good sorta way I’d guess.”

  Chapter Seven

  Torra paused at Leslie’s words. “I’m not so sure—”

  Leslie shook her head, rueful. “Oh no, sweetheart. They want you like—”

  “Nay, I ken.” Torra was more than sure she did not want to hear what might come out of Leslie’s mouth next.

  When they paused and stared at one another, Leslie didn’t take long in saying, “Like I said, this is the part where you fling yourself back on the bed and sigh. Trust me, it’ll feel good. Then we’ll get you dressed and continue on.”

  Torra wasn’t as familiar with Leslie as she was with Sheila. But something about this woman empowered her as Colin tried to do. She was forceful without being brutal.

  And in truth all Torra really wanted to do was rage against the men beyond the door. Aye, she had made mistakes. Aye, she should have been more truthful.

  But was she not human?

  She bit her lower lip as pain spliced through her. Nay, she wasn’t human at all.

  Leslie narrowed her eyes and nodded at the cot. “You can even scream if you want.”

  Torra shook her head and frowned. “Nay.”

  “Why not?”

  Now this was where the twenty-first and thirteenth centuries differed. There were things to be considered, people listening. The actions of one always led to the actions of another.

 

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