Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5)

by Rebecca Preston

  Eamon, ever easily distracted, was already at Anna’s side, ready to go and visit his favorite friend — chuckling, Anna lead him away, leaving Helen free to approach Niall, who was standing at the gate, watching as the villagers began the trek back home. The look on his face was stormy, and Helen hesitated, not quite sure how to start this particular conversation. But Niall started it for her.

  “He’s lucky those villagers dragged him away,” he said in a low, angry voice that she’d never heard from him before. “Or I’d have taken the scabbard off my sword and —”

  “You’re better than that,” she said sharply, taking his hand in hers as a way to shock him out of the dark mood he was in, remind him that there was a real world to return to. “You’re a better man than that. What kind of example would that set to your son?”

  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and she could tell that her remark had hit home. After a long silence, he opened his eyes again, and this time he looked calmer, more relaxed. The anger was still there, though, and she sighed, putting her arm through his.

  “What do you say we go for a walk?” she suggested. “It’s a nice day. I never see it this sunny.”

  “It is,” he acknowledged gruffly, his eyes darting up to the surprisingly blue sky. “Where’s Eamon?”

  “He’s with Gwyneth and Anna, probably planning how he’s going to run the place when he’s Laird,” she said, and that almost drew a smile from him. “Anna’s happy to take him for a little while. Let’s go for a walk on the lake shore, give you a chance to cool off a little.”

  “I suppose I could use a walk,” he said reluctantly, shooting a glance at her under his furrowed brows. “We’ll see if we can find any trace of the Kelpies.”

  “If it has to be a business walk, sure,” she said irritably, rolling her eyes as they set off across the land bridge. He kept her arm clasped in his — there was something oddly old-fashioned about it, like they were two genteel nobles taking a turn about the garden — instead of a gruff harbormaster and a neurotic private investigator from two different centuries, two different worlds… she sighed a little, feeling very far away from the thoughts she’d been having about whether it was possible for the two of them to have any kind of life together. They were just so, so different.

  “What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly, and she shook her head to clear it, a rueful smile on her face.

  “Just how strange it is, being here. Of all the places … it feels like home, but the Sidhe could have dropped me anywhere, right?”

  He shrugged, looking thoughtful as he turned his gaze to the waters of the Loch. They were heading down onto the shore now, and the wind across the Loch was picking up, ruffling her hair and making her grateful for the warm shape of Niall at her side, protecting her from the worst of the wind. “I don’t think they operate that way,” he said thoughtfully. “I think they’re very careful — not just about who they take, but where they put them.”

  “You think I was meant to be here?” she asked, half joking — but the way he looked at her made her bite her lip, her heartbeat increasing inside her chest.

  “Aye,” he said simply. “I do.”

  Just for a moment, she entertained the wild urge to kiss him… but her usual fear rose up like a dragon in her chest and snuffed out that impulse, so instead she turned out toward the Loch, fighting her own disappointment with herself. He seemed to respect her standoffishness — she felt him gently untangle their arms, his own eyes on the shore. “Look. Hoofprints.”

  Her heart sank. For a moment, she’d managed to avoid thinking about the Kelpies that were stalking their prey in the night… but clearly, the world wasn’t going to let her do that for too long. Niall was squatting over a patch of sand, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the tracks he saw there. Sure enough, they were hoofprints — pointing toward the water’s edge as well as away from it.

  “Unshod hoofprints,” he said softly. “These definitely belong to Kelpies. There are no wild horses in the area — and no tame ones that don’t have iron shoes on. I think that’s a big part of why Kelpies tend not to interfere with domestic horses — it’s the iron on their feet that keep them at bay.”

  “Speaking of,” Helen said, reaching into her skirt to withdraw her iron knife. “I thought it might be wise to carry some iron, at least until the Kelpies are dealt with.”

  He nodded, a pleased look on his face. “Good thinking. D’you know how to use it?”

  “I’m hoping it won’t come to that. But I’ve asked Anna for some lessons, anyway.”

  “Ah, good. She’s terrific with a dagger, that woman.” He tilted his head. “What are you smiling at?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just… I’m glad you’re not… you respect women, that’s all. It’s a rarer quality than you’d think,” she said darkly, thinking of Perry.

  “Aye, I hear how some men talk about women. It’s their loss, though. Deciding that a full half of the population has nothing to teach you seems like a good way to stop improvin’ as a person early in life. My mother taught me everything I know.”

  She sighed. “I wish I’d known mine better.”

  “You and Eamon have that in common,” he said softly. “I mean, he’s not an orphan, but...”

  “I’m not an orphan either.” She hesitated, thinking of her father — remembering that he wouldn’t be born for hundreds of years. “God, I guess I am. I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

  He sighed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring your mind to dark places. I just… I worry about Eamon, missing his mam. Over the last few years he’s gotten so angry, so turbulent. It’s like every day he’s more and more reckless and disobedient.”

  “I had three brothers,” Helen said drily. “I promise you — this isn’t unusual.”

  “Aye, I know. He’s a headstrong boy — I was the same at his age. But I suppose … well, I get so angry with him I suppose because I’m afraid. Like Perry,” he said, his face twisting with disgust. “Can’t believe I’d have anything in common with that simpleton. But like Perry, I let my fear turn into anger.”

  “What are you afraid of?” she asked gently, tilting her head. She hadn’t seen this side of him before — restless, worried, vulnerable. He looked down at her, his face full of worry.

  “Of losing Eamon, of course. Of losing him like I lost his mother. The Loch’s a dangerous place even for me… but for a four-year-old… all it would take was one little slip, one mistake, one careless second from me — and he could be dead and gone.”

  “That won’t happen,” Helen promised. “He’s a little reckless, yes, but he’s not stupid. You’re a good father — you’ve taught him to keep himself safe. He’s learned those lessons, even if it seems like he’s been ignoring you.” She took a deep breath. “Besides. You’re not alone, looking after him. Not anymore. You’ve got me to keep an eye on him, too.”

  He smiled at her — and in that moment, she would have done anything he’d asked of her. Instead, she shivered lightly in the cool air. Niall reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing him to the warmth of his side. They stood like that for a long time, gazing out at the waters of the Loch, both lost in thought… but together.

  Chapter 31

  “I don’t know anything about kids,” she confided as they walked back in toward the castle. They’d stayed out for an hour or so, just watching the water, letting Niall’s temper settle after the conflict with Perry, but it was beginning to get dark and they were both hungry enough to head in for an early dinner after the day’s excitement.

  “Nothing at all?” He looked surprised. “You’re very good with Eamon.”

  “He’s the first kid I’ve spent more than an hour with,” she confided, smiling a little. “I — well, none of my brothers had kids, and I was never married — never even dated seriously — so didn’t have any of my own.”

  “Truly?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “You didn’t let any men whisk you off your feet?”

&
nbsp; “Too busy with work,” She shrugged, wanting to move away from the subject. “But I like Eamon. Truly — he’s a treasure, even if he’s a handful. So if I can help out with him … if you’re happy to let me do my best… I’m more than happy to take him whenever you need some time.”

  “I appreciate it, Helen,” he said seriously as they strode across the bridge and through the half-open gate. “And he really does like you, which makes the offer all the better. Maybe you’ll be the one to finally break his reckless spirit,” he added with a grin.

  She laughed. “I doubt anyone on Earth’s going to be able to do that. But I’ll keep him from getting into too much trouble, if I can.”

  They headed upstairs to collect Eamon from Anna, who was happy enough to deliver him — it seemed he had been teaching Gwyneth how to ‘sword-fight’, which largely meant hitting each other with long sticks of wood. Gwyneth was barely more than a baby, though she seemed rather fond of Eamon and his violent hobbies — Anna shook her head, a grin playing around her lips as the two said their goodbyes.

  “And there I was, determined not to teach her anything about swords until she was five. I suppose it was in her blood. See you downstairs at dinner?” she added, quirking an eyebrow at Helen. She nodded, not quite sure what that look meant. Was Anna trying to insinuate something about her and Niall? If she was, she was being subtle about it — Niall hadn’t seemed to notice anything, and he strode down the steps with her, humming a tune as they headed for the dining hall for dinner.

  “So what’s our next step with the Kelpies?” She wanted to know as they settled in for their meal. He was wrestling with a sulky Eamon, who was grumpy and complaining for some reason.

  “Well, some more evidence that it’s Kelpies would be useful — I’m hoping that the guards will see something, or maybe even kill one. If I can show the villagers once and for all what they’re actually contending with, that might go some way to getting rid of Perry’s little group of vigilantes… Eamon!”

  The tone of shock and anger in his voice pulled Helen out of her reflections, and away from the soup she was idly stirring with her spoon. Eamon, his face a mask of amusement, had a fist full of mashed potato and a look on his face that suggested that that was far from the worst of his crimes. She followed his gaze… and saw that one of the guards was sporting a huge glob of mashed potato on the back of his head. The man turned around slowly, looking mostly surprised — but a little annoyed, too.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Niall said faintly. Helen sprang into action — she scooped Eamon up and grabbed a cloth napkin to swipe all the potato off his chubby little fist with. Irritated to have been stopped from throwing more potato, he thrashed in her arms — but a couple of days with him had taught her how to get around that particular behavior. She hung on tight, not letting go, and when he made it clear that he wasn’t going to stop trying to throw more food, she got to her feet, deciding that they needed a quiet place to talk. Niall was still apologizing to the guard, who was reassuring him that he had three kids of his own and knew exactly what it was like — so Helen took it upon herself to take Eamon away, heading for the hall of the castle where she knew it would be quiet.

  “Wanna go back,” he was saying irritably, clearly aware that he was in trouble — but she ignored him, carrying him all the way out and sitting him on a bench. He swung his legs, rebelliously refusing to look at her, a furious expression on his little face. But Helen knew how to be patient. She waited for him to run out of energy, for his legs to stop kicking, and for an expression a little less angry to cross his face. Then she took a deep breath.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

  “Wanna go back and eat my dinner,” he said truculently… but he was looking at her attentively, clearly intrigued by the fact that she wasn’t yelling at him for being naughty. She took another deep breath, keeping her expression as neutral as possible.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

  “No!” he yelled suddenly, scrunching his face up — and suddenly there were tears in his eyes. She reached up to brush them away, stroking his face in comfort as he sniffled… and resentfully, he twisted away from her, staring at the back wall of the castle intently even as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Does it have something to do with your da?”

  “Yes,” he said in a small voice. “Says I can’t go walking.”

  “Is that it?” She was a little surprised. She’d thought Eamon had gotten over the instruction not to go wandering by himself late at night on the shores of the Loch — thought that they’d explained why it was necessary, and that it wasn’t forever, just until the Kelpies had been dealt with. But it seemed Eamon wasn’t so easily distracted as all that.

  “I like the water,” he said grumpily, his eyes still fixed on the back wall as though he was talking to himself and not to her. She was happy to let him do that, so long as he was talking. She found to her surprise that she was worried about Eamon — that she really wanted to help him with whatever was going on in his head. Was this what parenthood was like?

  “And you feel like Da’s stopping you from doing what you like?”

  “He’s allowed to go wherever he wants.”

  “Well, he’s big. You’ll be big too, one day, but not yet.”

  Eamon huffed. But her curiosity had been piqued. “Why do you like the water?”

  “Mam’s out there,” he said simply.

  And just like that, she felt her heart break as all the pieces clicked into place. Of course… he liked walking by the water because that was the last place he knew his mother had been. And his father telling him not to walk by the water was like telling him to stop caring about her…

  “Oh, Eamon. Your mam’s with you wherever you go, not just by the water.”

  He snuck a quick glance at her, his eyes interested — but still, he was on his guard.

  “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said in a small voice.

  “You know, your da misses her too.”

  “No he doesn’t,” Eamon said dismissively.

  “Yes, he does,” she said firmly. “He’s trying to be strong for you, but he misses her all the time. Missing her is why he’s so worried about keeping you safe. He doesn’t want to lose you like he lost her.”

  This clearly hadn’t occurred to Eamon — he was peering at her with a fierce curiosity, even as he tried to maintain the pretense that he wasn’t listening to what she was saying. “He thinks I’m gonna get eaten by a monster.”

  “Yes,” she said, fighting the urge to laugh. She wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but… “Yes, and the monsters that are around at the moment, they come out at night. And they like the water. That’s the only reason he doesn’t want you walking by yourself.”

  “The big horsies,” Eamon said, narrowing his eyes. “They like the water? They’ll eat me if I’m by myself by the water?”

  “They might,” she said softly, encouraged by the fact that Eamon seemed to be understanding a little better now. “That’s why everyone in the Castle is going inside before it gets dark — people in the village, too. Not just little boys like you, but everyone.”

  “Okay,” Eamon said after a long pause.

  She could tell he was still angry, still sulky, and part of her wanted to press the issue… but she decided against it. They’d made a huge amount of progress here, getting Eamon to talk a little about missing his mother, and even talking about the fact that his father missed her, too. She didn’t want to damage all that progress by prompting Eamon into another tantrum. So she just smiled at him.

  “Do you want to go back inside and have some more potatoes?”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice much brighter.

  “Do you promise not to throw them at anyone else?”

  “Promise,” he said, for all the world as though he hadn’t flung a handful of potatoes at a man only a few minutes earlier.

  “Alright.
Let’s go.” She smiled, extending her hand.

  He took it, a trusting gesture, his little hand slipping into her much bigger one, and for a moment she felt such a pure burst of joy that she wondered what was wrong with her. She’d helped, she realized. That was what was making her feel so good — she’d helped Eamon understand a little more of his world.

  Maybe she had it in her to be a stepmom after all…

  Chapter 32

  Over the next few days, more news reached them of what was going on with the Kelpies. The guards continued to travel close together when they patrolled the shore. More and more hoofprints were found each night, and despite asking around in the village about any possible unshod horses that could be leaving the prints, it seemed pretty clear that the prints belonged to Kelpies. But the strongest evidence came two nights later, when two guards came rushing in with their iron spears held aloft and a hell of a tale to tell. By breakfast the next morning, the whole castle was abuzz with the story.

  “I heard it from the brother of one of the guards,” Nancy told Helen, her eyes aglow with excitement. “He said they were halfway to the Village when they heard hoofbeats. An enormous horse, built like a warhorse, gleaming muscles, beautiful long neck… it came stepping out of the forest, neighing at them like a tame horse. Thank god they knew what to look for — the wet mane and tail gave it away, and they were able to lift their spears and keep it back from them. Otherwise who knows what would have happened? They think that’s what happened to the first guard — that he saw a beautiful horse and decided to catch it for its owner, or to sell at market, or whatever.”

  “The poor man,” Helen said softly, a frown on her face. “But these men saw the Kelpie? They were certain?”

  “About as certain as they could be,” Nancy said, her voice low. “Apparently the Kelpie got closer and closer until it smelled the iron on their spears. Then it recoiled, and they said its eyes flashed red as blood.”