Maggie quickly waved her back into her seat. “Okay, okay, I know you’ve all been worried sick! Please believe me that I didn’t do it on purpose! I came back as soon as I, er, got my memory back.” Part of the convoluted story she’d told them included a complete, though temporary, loss of memory.
Rachel glanced at the twins. “Notice she doesn’t say she was anxious to get back to us.”
“Yeah, like you would have been either,” Ellie said, liftingone dyed black brow at her honorary aunt. “If that Scottish hunk had found you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Maggie smoothed her hands down the legs of her jeans. It was so great to have her own clothes back again. The soft green T-shirt and jeans made her feel more like her old self than she had in a long time. “I came back as soon as I remembered who I was.”
“You said that already. And tell us again, how exactly it was that you wandered off from the dig camp,” Rachel demanded.
Maggie sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you this at least three times. I went out walking in the moonlight, um, just thinking, and I, er, tripped and rolled down the other side of the hill. I must have hit my head. When I came to, I couldn’t remember anything and started wandering away from the camp.” She’d given the story over and over in the days since she and Quinn had ended up back in her time. “After a day of wandering, I ran into a, uh, shepherd, Quinn, and he took care of me until I started getting my memory back. Now, will you please stop interrogating me?”
“Hmmm,” Ellie said, “you know, I never would have pegged Quinn for a shepherd. Weightlifter maybe.”
“Where does this guy live?” Allie asked.
“In the Highlands,” Maggie said vaguely. “You know, in one of those little cottages.”
“What’s the address?” Allie asked persistently.
“How did he get stabbed, again?” Ellie asked.
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I told you, we ended up in Drymen at the pub, and when we left, someone ran up, grabbed my bag and stabbed Quinn.”
“But you still have your bag,” Allie said.
“Uh, he dropped it when a guy ran out of the pub— because I screamed.”
“And,” Allie went on, as if Maggie hadn’t spoken, “no one who was at the pub that night remembers seeing either of you.”
Maggie frowned. “What did you do, hire Scotland Yard?”
“You don’t hire Scotland Yard,” Ellie said, “they’re the police.”
“Let’s just say that I have my ways,” Allie said mysteriously.
“Okay, girls, let’s get to the heart of the matter—the guy. He took care of you, huh?” Rachel’s smile was lascivious,and Maggie frowned at her. “I just bet he did. Wanna elaborate?”
Maggie laughed to cover her embarrassment. “There’s nothing to elaborate about,” she lied. “He was a perfect gentleman.”
Rachel snorted. “Sure he was.”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Allie said. “The problem is, Maggie, we don’t believe you.” Her sister smiled at her, her picture perfect face calm and complacent. Many a man had taken one look at Allie’s blonde beauty and jumped to the wrong conclusion—that she was dumb. Expecting a vague intellect and at best a penchant for fashion, most were shocked when she opened her mouth and proved them wrong.
While Maggie was used to her bluntness, she knew she had to keep the facade in place. She stared back at her sister,lifting her chin as if she’d been terribly insulted. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard her. We don’t believe you,” Ellie said, floppingback against a pillow on the sofa. “So why don’t you tell us the truth instead?”
Maggie started to deny the accusation, but as she gazed around at the faces she loved, she smiled. “You guys don’t know how glad I am to see you,” she said softly. “You just don’t know how glad.”
The three women looked at one another and then, almostin unison, jumped up and surrounded her, folding her into their arms, crying wet, sloppy tears all over her.
“We were so worr-ied,” Ellie cried, unmindful that her black eyeliner was running down her face as she sat down on the arm of the calico chair and put her arm around Maggie,hugging her tightly.
“You were gone so long, Maggie! We thought you were—!” Allie didn’t finish the sentence, but sank down on the floor at her sister’s feet and laid her head in Maggie’s lap.
Rachel stood behind Maggie, her arms wrapped loosely around her neck, sobbing along with the sisters, and then all at once gave a little groan and straightened. She circled around in front of Maggie and put her hands on her hips, staring down at her sternly.
“And then you show up with this cockamamie story about having amnesia.” She cocked her head to one side. “Come on, Mags, we know you didn’t let us all worry while you played footsie with your honey up there, but your story is just a little too hard to believe.”
Allie and Ellie were both on their knees now, their heads resting in her lap. Maggie stroked their hair, so very different, back from their faces, so much alike.
“Look,” she said, “you guys are just going to have to trust me.”
Allie wiped the tears from her face and stared up at her. “Why? If your story is true, why do we have to trust you? What do you mean?”
Maggie sighed. She’d been through the worst and the best times in her life with these three women. There was no reason to think they couldn’t take the truth of what had happened to her. Her only fear was that they would think she was nuts.
“Okay,” she said hesitantly, “there’s more to the story. But if I tell you, you’ll think I should be locked up in the loony bin.”
Allie and Ellie sat back on their heels and blinked as they looked up at her in confusion.
“Try us,” Rachel said, her eyes narrow, her stance like a drill sergeant’s.
Maggie drew in a deep breath. “Sit down. All of you.” When they were all seated again, she took another deep breath and then began.
“It all started one night when I couldn’t sleep . . .”
They didn’t believe her.
The three women stared at her, their mouths open, their eyes huge in their faces. Then they all jumped to their feet and began talking all at once, asking questions that she tried to answer, each growing more and more upset, until Maggie had finally called a halt.
When they had all finally calmed down and were sitting again, their faces twisted into similar shades of terror, Maggie knew what she had to do. She smiled.
“Gotcha.”
Another stunned silence was followed by near hystericallaughter.
“Well!” Rachel said. “You certainly paid us back for every trick we’ve ever pulled on you! I’m impressed.”
Maggie laughed, even as she felt a sudden sadness flood over her. If Quinn returned to his own time, she wouldn’t even be able to talk to her sisters and Rachel about him. About the real Quinn.
“Yep,” she said aloud. “I thought it was finally time I taught you all a lesson. I’m not a time traveler. I bumped my head, lost my memory, met Quinn. You can believe it or not.” Her bravado sounded weak, even to her.
“You okay, kid?” Rachel asked, one hand on her shoulder.
Maggie raised her brows. “Hey, you’re the one who fell for it. I’m fine.” She jumped up and headed toward the kitchen. “You know what? I’m starving. In the past, all we had was porridge. What’s in the fridge?”
The three converged on her, still giggling, and bustled her into the kitchen. They warmed up leftover roast beef, and she smiled and ate the sandwich Allie made her, and then ate a huge bowl of ice cream.
The girls decided they should play Scrabble—a longtime family favorite—and Maggie didn’t have the heart to say no. It was two o’clock in the afternoon before she finally yawned and said she’d had enough. Just being downstairs for a few hours had made her miss Quinn terribly. What would she do if he decided to return to the past?
“Allie is still the reigning champion,” she announced,
“and I need a nap.”
“Someday I am going to beat you,” Ellie said to her sister.“I don’t get it. How can you still beat me at Scrabble?”
Allie smiled, not gloating over her victory at all. “It’s about the way you think. That’s why I’m good at math and you suck. That’s why I can play chess and you can’t.”
Ellie frowned. “Are you calling me dumb?”
Her sister looked shocked. “Of course not! You’re one of the smartest people I know! And so am I, we just have different kinds of smarts.”
“Okay, girls, I’m out of here,” Maggie announced.
They all looked up in alarm, and Maggie stared down at them. “I’m going upstairs,” she explained.
She felt bad for making them panic, so she kept talking. “Quinn’s probably sprawled across the whole bed, and I won’t be able to move him.”
“I bet you can make him scoot over,” Rachel said, her voice slightly evil. “If you can’t, I’ve got a few moves you can use.”
“Shhh,” Maggie warned, “children in the house.” It was an old joke between them and soon they were hugging and making plans for later.
After ten minutes more, she finally escaped up the stairs, feeling a little depressed. She’d really thought they might believe her.
When she opened the door to the bedroom, the small lamp on the bedside table was on. Quinn lay under the coversof the bed, his eyes closed. The sight of him lying there made tears come to Maggie’s eyes. She’d come so close to losing him. The terrifying thing was she knew she was still in danger of losing him. He hadn’t said anything yet, but she knew he was worried about Ian. And she understood. She was worried, too.
Maggie moved quickly to the bed and slid in beside him, lying on top of the covers.
“Quinn,” she whispered, “are you okay?”
He opened his eyes, and that familiar green hit her. But there was distance in his gaze and she stilled beside him.
“What is it?” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Why did ye not tell me that ye were—are—a time traveler?” Quinn asked.
Maggie shook her head. “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“Nay, I dinna see that it is.”
“Well, you’d have thought I was crazy.”
Quinn looked away. “Ye dinna give me any credit for being a thinking man, do ye?”
Maggie opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again. “What do you mean?”
He rose and walked around the room, slapping the top his fist with the other hand. “I mean, ye think I am stupid.”
“I do not think you’re stupid,” she said, outraged. She jumped off the bed and grabbed him by one arm as he paced by. “I think you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever known!”
“But ye dinna trust me to believe ye, even though I love ye.” His green eyes held hers in a steady gaze and Maggie finally groaned and sank back down on the bed, her chin in her hands.
“Please don’t do this,” she begged, tugging him down beside her. “And try to understand. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
Quinn nodded. “And what if I had not been stabbed by Pembroke?” he asked.
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
He stared straight ahead. “What were yer plans? When had ye intended to return to yer time—without me? And what am I now? An unwanted tagalong that ye had to bring to yer time to save his life?”
Maggie bounced off the bed and turned to face him, hands on her hips. “Is that what you really think? That I brought you here to save you, not because I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”
He shrugged and she picked up a pillow and threw it at him. It bounced off his head harmlessly and he continued to stare at her.
She began to pace angrily around the room, her auburn hair flying out behind her. “If you only knew what I went through—how I agonized over telling you—like the time you went through my backpack and found all my stuff! I wanted to tell you then, but I didn’t think—” She broke off and looked away.
Quinn stood, his face like granite, his arms folded over his chest. “Ye didn’t think that I could—what do the people in your time say—?” His fingers flexed against his upper arms as he frowned. “Oh, aye—ye dinna think I could handleit.”
“That’s not all you won’t be handling,” Maggie mutteredas she folded her arms over her chest and met his eyes glare for glare.
“I heard that,” he said, his voice harsh. “And while we’re on the subject of handling it, I dinna like the way you handled Ian in such a familiar way,” he said.
“What?” Maggie cried. “What are you talking about? Ian is my friend.”
“Aye, a friend who wants to have”—he frowned as if searching for the right word—“benefits.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Quinn MacIntyre! You should be ashamed for even thinking such a thing—about me and about your best friend! What is the matter with you?”
Quinn looked away, but not before she caught a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
Maggie stared at him for a long moment and then drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Okay, now I know what’s goingon.” She strode across the room and punched him in the arm.
“Damn, but ye pack a punch for such a wee lass! What was that for?”
“You deserve worse. How dare you try and make me mad, make me think you’re some kind of jealous jerk, just so you can return to your own time and save Ian? What kind of woman do you think I am?”
Quinn sighed and shook his head. “The kind that is too smart for me.”
“Damn you, Quinn.” Maggie folded her arms across her chest. “Did you really think that would work? That I’d fall out of love with you because you acted like an idiot for five minutes?”
He ran one hand through his tousled dark hair. “I must go back to my own time. I dinna want ye to be hurt if I dinna return—if I canna return.”
Her mouth went dry. “What do you mean? Of course you can return.”
Quinn gave her wistful smile. “I’m no going back in time to have a tea party, lass. I’m going back to fight a devil, and save a man I love as dearly as I loved my own brother.”
“I know,” Maggie whispered, moving to his side and sliding her arms around his waist. “But at least let me have the hope that you’ll come back to me,” she said. “At least let me have that.”
Quinn gathered her into his arms and held her close, his breath warm upon her hair. “Aye, all right then, lass, I’ll no take that away from ye.”
She snuggled against his chest, careful not to touch his stitches. “Let’s go into town tomorrow. There’s so much I want to show you and—”
“Aye,” he cut her off. “We’ll go to town.” He turned towardher slightly and brushed his mouth across hers. His chin was scratchy with stubble, and a little thrill ran through her blood. “Tomorrow.”
“So do you want to go to Edinburgh? I think we should probably start with Drymen and ease you into things. We can—”
“Shhh,” Quinn said. “Tomorrow. He settled his mouth over hers. She felt his warm tongue slip inside to dance with hers and closed her eyes as his hand slid down to caress her breast. Suddenly, tomorrow seemed fine.
“Are you naked under there?” she asked weakly.
“Come and find out,” he offered.
With a sigh she pulled the covers back and found to her extreme satisfaction that her suspicions had been correct. She quickly set about shedding her own clothes and then slipped in beside him.
“But there’s one thing I really need to tell you—”
He kissed her again and made it very, very hard to focus on the decision she had made a few minutes earlier. As she’d stood in the kitchen talking to her sisters, Ellie had mentioned the great library the little town had, and Maggie had suddenly realized she and Quinn could look up Ian MacGregor’s name in history books, and even talk to clan historians and the like. Maybe they’d find out someone else had rescued Ian. Maybe Quinn di
dn’t have to go back.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered again. Then Quinn began to paint hot, lush kisses down the side of her neck, and her questions and fears faded into liquid heat and didn’t matter. All that mattered was Quinn loving her, right now, this minute.
The future would take care of itself.
And perhaps the past as well. Maggie closed her eyes and began to hope.
fourteen
Quinn stood outside the cottage, his back against the house as he gazed at the surrounding countryside. In his mind, this place was in no way a “cottage,” but practically a manor house. Maggie had told him it was a “rental,” that Rachel and the girls had leased the place when they came to Scotland to look for her.
Across the narrow roadway that ran up to the house, a doe and her fawn grazed languidly, unfazed by the human watching them. But he wasn’t watching them, not really. Instead, Quinn’s thoughts were wandering back to the many times he’d stood behind Ian’s grandmother’s cottage and watched just such a doe and a fawn—three hundred years in the past. He shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning his head back until it touched the stone behind him.
The actual land of Scotland had remained remarkably the same, except for the modern introduction of roads to carry the two-eyed monstrous carriages. Everything else had changed. Remarkably changed.
He still had many questions to ask Maggie. Questions he hadn’t been able to force himself to ask the night before. Questions about how he could return to his own time. Once he had her in his arms again, his heart had ached. How could he leave her?
They made love, but for the first time ever he could not lose himself in their passion, could not disconnect his thoughts. When he had brought Maggie to her release and found his, he had held her tightly in his arms, knowing he was going to lose her, knowing his honor demanded he returnand save his friend.
He must have been wearier than he realized, for when he awoke, it was morning again. Maggie had risen early and gone somewhere with her sisters. She’d left him a note saying she would return soon and they would do something “fun.” He had put on the soft “jogging” clothing again and taken a walk while he waited for her. When he returned, she still had not returned, so he waited outside, anxious to see her.
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