by Darci Balogh
"Getting the grip on it is the hardest part," a man's voice said just to her right.
The sound startled her and she twisted quickly to face Michael. The sun was behind him, surrounding his charmingly messy dark hair with a glowing halo. He seemed taller than normal or maybe his appearance was altered in her eyes because of the pheromones radiating from his powerful frame after all of his recent exertion.
"Yeah," she said, the sound a faint squeak in her throat. She couldn't say anything else because her mouth had gone completely dry.
Michael's eyes shone as they swept down her body, all the way to her feet then back up to her face. "Nice trainers," he said, rolling his 'r's' like only the Scottish can. Then he gave her a wink before jogging back to the line. All of his mates were shouting and waving at him to take his turn. He looked back at her once, catching her eye and holding it for a second with a mischievous twinkle.
It was his turn next at the Caber Toss and Tawnyetta could not tear her eyes away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
"It's like they're best friends now," Bridget declared. Her voice tinged with annoyance.
"Don't be snarky," Sofia scolded her mildly. "You should be glad Thomas has found a friend."
Tawnyetta listened to Bridget whine about the absence of Thomas and Michael from their morning adventure and was beginning to think she was mostly put out because there were no men around to fawn over her. The two men had got along wonderfully the day before at the Games and left early in the morning to go fishing in a nearby loch. They had skipped breakfast and had been away for hours, leaving the women to entertain themselves. It was wearing thin.
They had ran out of things to do before mid-morning and been roped into helping Angie collect more wildflowers. She was planning on drying all of them to make her own "Highland Potpourri" so they could "Always remember their trip to Scotland". The five of them made their way through the woodlands next to the castle collecting wood anemone with tender white petals. On the other side of the thick woods, they came upon clearer land that rolled and peaked in small hills. Angie was in seventh heaven as these low hills were literally covered with heather and primrose.
Though Bridget was growing tired of their flower adventure, Tawnyetta was glad for the distraction. She hadn't slept well the night before with Michael and the Games still fresh in her mind.
"It is simply beautiful here," Luna exclaimed, inhaling the fragrance from the cut flowers she carried in her basket.
"I'm not being snarky you know," Bridget said, ignoring Luna's current comment and unable to let go of Sofia's earlier one. "I just think he should be spending time with us."
"Who?" Sofia teased. "Thomas or Laird MacBrody?"
Bridget's cheeks pinked prettily. Tawnyetta pretended to spy a new patch of flowers further away and walked quickly towards them. She didn't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Nor did she want anyone to suspect her feelings.
These feelings were so fresh and new she didn't know if they could withstand being out in the open yet. They were the reason she hadn't slept a wink the night before. She had stared at her ceiling all night thinking about him, wondering if he was thinking about her. All of the emotions of the day at the Games, jealousy, attraction, anxiety, excitement, had played through her mind on a loop. By morning she was groggy and exhausted, but she had figured it out. And her discovery had left her in a new quandary.
The truth she had been forced to admit to herself in the middle of the night was that she had fallen head over heels for Michael. The very thought of him sent her heart racing. Her senses tingled at the memory of their times together. His eyes, his scent, his voice. There was no question in her mind anymore regarding her feelings. The question that remained was how would she manage the rest of this vacation without revealing her secret to anyone?
As she neared the top of the slope Tawnyetta smelled the unmistakable wet, dank scent of reeds. A soft splashing of waves sounded just over the top of the swell in the land. She walked right past the flowers she'd planned on picking and toward the sound until she came upon the edge of a lake, or loch rather, that had been hidden by the undulating landscape.
A bubble of excitement appeared in her stomach. Was this the loch where Michael and Thomas had gone fishing? Tawnyetta scanned the shoreline and didn't see anything but narrow rocky beaches. She took in the vastness of the body of water in front of her. The men could be anywhere. And she didn't even know if this was the same loch they had gone to, it could be a completely different one.
Still, the bubble of excitement grew.
"Tawnyetta?" Sofia called to her. She and Luna appeared at the top of the slope.
"Oh my," Luna released the words in one, long breath, her attention captured by the loch stretching out in front of them.
It was an amazing sight. Not wide and round like Tawnyetta would expect a lake to be, but long and narrow, and placed between higher, craggy hills on both sides. The loch looked like a canyon that had filled with water over time and now sat still and grey, shining like polished stone. More hills peaked on either side, higher and higher into the distance. Tawnyetta scrutinized the dark water lapping just below her feet and wondered how deep it was. It looked deep.
Bridget appeared behind them next. "Damned thistles," she muttered as she plucked spiny purple blooms from her linen shorts.
Angie had clambered up to the highest point nearby to look out over the loch. She gazed with delight at what she saw. "Now that 'tis a bonnie sight if I do say so myself," Angie said in a perfect Scottish accent. They all looked up at her in surprise. "I've been practicing," she explained. She gave them a joyful smile, which was magnified by her wild mane of red hair glinting in the sun. Her long, flowing skirt blew in the breeze, wrapping around her calves.
The shoreline Tawnyetta stood on had no beach. Instead, the ground sloped down and away from her feet to the edge of the loch. From there it simply dropped down several feet to the edge of the water, as if the loch was merely a huge pit dug out of the ground by a backhoe before being filled with water. On either side of where she stood the land rose higher, making the drop off more of a rough cliff overlooking the water. Where Angie stood the drop off was most extreme, at least twenty feet.
Tawnyetta lifted her flattened hand to her forehead, shading her eyes from the sun so she could see across the water better. No sign of any boats.
Suddenly interested, Bridget asked, "Do you think this is where they came to fish?"
Tawnyetta shrugged and was about to answer that she didn't see any signs of life on the loch when a sharp cry interrupted her. They all turned just in time to see Angie tumbling awkwardly from her perch and hitting the surface of the lake with an epic splash.
"Gigi!" Bridget cried.
But Angie couldn't hear her, because she had disappeared under the water.
Several thoughts flew through Tawnyetta's mind in that moment. She didn't know how deep or how cold the water was. Angie could have hurt herself falling or hit a rock under the surface of the water that knocked her unconscious. And, finally, was there such a thing as an undercurrent in a loch?
Not willing to wait to find out, and not wanting to waste any more time to see if Angie resurfaced unharmed, Tawnyetta leapt into action. In just a few seconds she pulled her shirt over her head and kicked off her shoes. Amid shouts of warning and concern from the others, wearing only her shorts and bra, Tawnyetta stepped to the edge of the loch and jumped in.
The water was cold, much colder than she had anticipated, and her chest clenched. Her lungs wanted to suck in air from the shock, but her mind knew better than to let them.
She was still plunging downward into the water that was no longer the shining grey it appeared from the shore. From inside the loch, the water was a charcoal black. Clear, not murky, but a weighty black that absorbed all of the rays of sun from the surface into an endless darkness. It was mesmerizing, surreal, like she was floating in outer space without a helmet surrounded by no atmosphere th
at held the warmth of the sun. Her hands and arms were visible, but they glowed a ghostly white in this eerie underwater visage.
Fear rushed through her. The loch seemed to be bottomless, without life and without soul. What if it was too dark to see Angie? What if she had already sunk beyond reach? Thoughts of the Loch Ness monster she'd read about as a child popped into her head.
No! She would not allow herself to panic.
Tawnyetta forced herself to focus and pointed her body in the direction she thought Angie had fallen. The cold had already sunk into her bones and kicking her feet was almost painful. But she had no choice. Angie was in trouble. So she swam as fast as she could.
In what seemed like forever, but could only have been a few moments, Tawnyetta spotted another ghostly white figure under the water. Her heart pumped loudly for a moment, then calmed. Her fear of running into a legendary underwater monster dropped away when she saw the cloud of red hair floating above the struggling figure.
By the time she reached Angie, Tawnyetta's lungs were starting to burn. She had no idea how deep they were, the way the loch absorbed sunshine made it difficult to gage. She was terrified of going for air and then not being able to find Angie again in the depths, so she kept swimming. When she was within a few feet of her, Angie's wide and frightened eyes focused on her. Tawnyetta remembered hearing how dangerous a drowning person can be, how they can grab hold of the person trying to save them and end up pulling them down as well. She didn't want them both to drown, but she had to take the chance. There was no way she was leaving Angie in this cold, dark place.
Tawnyetta looked hard into her friend's eyes and saw recognition, not panic. She reached out her hand and Angie took it firmly, but not so much that Tawnyetta couldn't swim. Then, dragging Angie behind her, Tawnyetta kicked like mad back toward the surface.
Lungs on fire, feeling like they might explode, Tawnyetta looked to the sparkles that she thought must be the sun glinting off the surface and pushed all thoughts of failure out of her mind. The water pressed against her from all sides, an oppressive force devouring both of them with its sheer size. The normal momentum she would feel moving upward in water was slowed considerably by Angie's additional pull. Letting go was not an option.
The sparkles grew wider, giving her hope. But then they started to blur. Her heart pounded in her chest sending shooting pains through her body. Her head felt drowsy. Tawnyetta had one terrifying thought–she was going to pass out.
She dared not look down at Angie and the depths below. Afraid of what she'd see. Afraid that was all she would ever see again.
Something large dropped into the water above. An unidentifiable form and a trail of white bubbles it brought with it from the world above. Then another object followed the first. Her vision narrowed so that it seemed she was looking through a telescope. Suddenly she was full of despair. The sparkles, the surface of the water, were quickly disappearing in tunnel vision.
She was cold. Angie's hand! Was she still holding Angie's hand? Something grabbed her roughly from behind, wrapping tightly under her arms and across her chest. She couldn't hold on to Angie anymore. She couldn't kick and fight away whatever underwater beast had taken hold of her. She couldn't think or scream or breathe. Even though her mind knew it was pointless, she opened her mouth to try. Cold, black water rushed in, filling the back of her throat. Everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tawnyetta awoke to voices. Some male, some female. Some shouting, some blubbering. One voice stood out. Deep, steady, close.
"Are you all right, lass?"
Her eyes fluttered open to see Michael, his hair dripping wet, his eyes full of worry.
"Tawny!" Bridget's face popped into view.
It registered in her brain that they were both looking down at her. She was flat on her back laying on something bumpy and hard. The ground.
Tawnyetta lifted her head suddenly, "Angie?"
"She's fine, everything's fine," Michael reassured her, reaching around the back of her head with his hand for support. "You should lay down for a wee bit longer, lass," he instructed as he lowered his hand, allowing her head to sink back to the earth.
Relief flooded through her body as her throat swelled hot with tears. This sent her into a coughing fit and Michael turned her to him and held steady so she was coughing into his bare chest. His skin was so warm and comforting that she didn't even think to wonder why he wasn't wearing a shirt. Or why droplets of water stuck to his skin. She had just come from the oppressive world underneath the surface of the loch. Everything was wet.
"You're all right, lass, everything's okay," Michael murmured to her as he brushed her cheek tenderly with his fingertips. He said it again, so softly that she realized he was comforting himself as much as he was comforting her. She looked up at him and was caught by the expression in his eyes. Fiercely blue, the worry subsiding, they gleamed with something else–anger. Surprised, Tawnyetta pulled away from him and tried to sit up.
"Thank goodness!" Sofia said. She and Luna sat on either side of Angie who was also flat on her back nearby, but alert.
"No wonder you couldn't swim," Thomas added. Shirtless as well, he was at Angie's feet untangling the mass of sopping wet cloth that had just recently been her beautiful skirt, but had turned deadly under water. The long, sweeping garment was twisted firmly around her calves and ankles and he cursed under his breath as he worked to get it loose.
Angie caught Tawnyetta's eye and Tawnyetta saw giant tears welling up in her big, brown eyes. "Tawnyetta..." Angie's bottom lip trembled.
Tawnyetta sat up, pushed away from Michael and scrambled quickly into Angie's outstretched arms just before they both burst into tears.
Michael sat back on his heels. He blew out a great breath of released frustration, his cheeks puffing out as he did. He ran both hands through his wet hair once then brought them back and covered his face. His let his hands slide down his down his cheeks, pulling the skin under his eyes down as they did.
Bridget was hovering. Hopping nervously back and forth between Angie and Tawnyetta as they wept and Thomas as he worked on disentangling Angie's feet.
"This is awful! Oh my God, how did that even happen? Gigi you could have drowned! Tawny, you too!"
Her nervous chattering added to her incessant hovering and made Tawnyetta think of a neurotic humming bird. She giggled.
"Stop, Bridge," Tawnyetta said. "Before you hop yourself into the water." Laughter bubbled out of her at the image that formed in her mind. Angie's shoulders started shaking as she, too, giggled at the thought. Luna snorted, which tickled Sofia's funny bone, and then they were all laughing, including Thomas. All of them except Michael.
He had stood up and was pacing slowly between them and the water's edge. Tawnyetta laughed so hard her sides hurt and she couldn't catch her breath. For some reason this made it all even more crazy funny when she thought about not being able to breathe under the water.
Thomas had finished untangling Angie's skirt and noticed Michael's tension. He stood up and brushed off the debris that had stuck to his knees while on the ground. "It's all right now," he said to Michael. Tawnyetta noticed he was using the same soothing voice that Michael had used on her. Her laughter subsided and she wiped tears from her eyes.
Michael was shaking his head, then nodding it, then shaking it again. He tried to chuckle along with them, but it came out humorless.
"Thank you," Tawnyetta said to both of them. She had deduced that the reason they were shirtless and soaking wet was they had dove into the loch to save her and Angie. Her heart warmed to both of them. "Thank you for saving us."
Thomas' cheeks flushed under the sentiment, but Michael scoffed. They all turned their attention to him, surprised at his reaction.
"What were you doing out here?" He asked, his tone impatient.
"Picking flowers," Angie answered meekly.
He shook his head with disgust. He looked downward, averting his eyes to the ground just in
front of them. His jaw clenched as he tried to control his tone, "You should not be playing in the hills where you do not know your way around."
"We weren't playing," Tawnyetta said haughtily. She disliked his use of the word, as if they were children needing scolding.
His eyes shot up and he glared at her for a second before he said, "These hills can be deadly. You of all people should know that."
Heat filled Tawnyetta's cheeks. He was acting like she was stupid. She was not stupid. She pushed herself off the ground and stood up, shoulders straight even if her knees were still a bit wobbly. She opened her mouth to respond.
"It's my fault," Angie interjected. "I slipped, I guess. I don't really know what happened. One moment I was standing up there," she swept her arm towards the place she'd fallen from. "And the next I was sinking in the water."
"Because the shore is unstable on this side of the loch." Michael gestured to encompass the entire area where they stood. "This water is ice cold." The muscles and veins in his neck strained with his anger as he jabbed his finger repeatedly at the loch behind him to emphasize his point. "Do you know how deep this loch is? Or that you can sink down so far into that black, freezing water that you go past the point of ever being found?"
Tawnyetta did know. She had felt it when they were underwater. The vastness of it. The way it had almost swallowed her, swallowed them both. Angie, still sitting on the ground flanked by Sofia and Luna, shivered.
Michael turned his pointing finger on all of the women. "You're not allowed to go anywhere on these grounds without me...or someone qualified to guide you."
Tawnyetta blinked. Anger rose inside of her pushing aside everything else. "Not allowed?" She was incensed at his tone. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke as evenly and coolly as possible. "You may be the Laird of this place, sir, but you are not in charge of me. Or any of us."
Michael's jaw clenched. He held her stare, his eyes flashing. After a long moment he fixed a hard gaze on each of them in turn before returning it to Tawnyetta. He stepped toward her so he was standing so close she could see every detail of the tattoo on his chest.
