Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1)

by Sky Purington

  “You’re too much.” She continued to smile as they followed it. “I imagine it’s already pre-programmed to lead us to Stonehenge.”

  He took her hand and smiled. “Where else?”

  When he’d helped her move in six months ago, it’d been one of the first places she’d visited. Salem’s Stonehenge was supposedly built thousands of years ago by an ancient people. Now a tourist attraction, it drew in all of those fascinated with a culture long gone. As a history buff, it’d been the main perk to moving into the old colonial. A short walk through the forest and she could enter a slice of time long gone.

  “So how are you getting on here, Kay? I know how much you loved the Cape.”

  She’d grown up in Cape Cod and never thought she’d leave. Very few loved the ocean like she did. But when Caitlin’s grandmother Mildred passed away, Caitlin, Ferchar and their son had moved into Mildred’s old house at the end of the drive and the colonial became available.

  “We Skype nearly every day. You know how much I like it. Especially the inspiration I’m getting from being here.”

  “I’m still surprised that Caitlin and Ferchar moved so soon after her grandmother died,” he remarked as they walked. “But it makes sense. Renting out this place to you and your cousins is a financially sound idea and pulls the family closer together.”

  She nodded. “I think that was some of it. But she was so close to her grandmother and Ferchar was very close to his grandfather, Adlin. They feel like they’ve kept a little piece of them alive by living in Mildred’s house. The move didn’t surprise me in the least.”

  Trevor remained silent for several long moments before he softly said, “It’s unusual how they died together like they did.”

  McKayla only met Mildred a few times and had never met her new boyfriend, Adlin. But she couldn’t help agree. As a romance writer she didn’t know which aspect of their relationship to focus on first. The fact that they’d fallen in love so late in life or when they died it had been together, hand in hand, sitting on the front porch.

  Then again, their whole situation had been peculiar. Caitlin’s grandmother fell in love with her husband’s grandfather. If that wasn’t odd enough, Ferchar’s appearance in Caitlin’s life caught everyone off guard. He was a man raised in Scotland that no one had heard of a month before. Not even Caitlin! It was like he materialized out of nowhere. And then, poof, his grandfather also from Scotland showed up, and was suddenly living with Mildred. On top of all that Shane, Caitlin’s brother, vanished after writing a Scottish war novel. One that still sat securely on every bestseller list. What she wouldn’t give to talk to Shane right now.

  McKayla and her cousins had been estranged from Caitlin and Shane for far too long. So long, in fact, it was a shock when Caitlin reached out to them. Though she supposed she shouldn’t be that amazed. Caitlin was great. She had to be in order to forgive like she did. Not that McKayla, Sheila and Leslie had done anything wrong, but their parents, that was another story.

  Sibling rivalry had created a dam between Caitlin’s parents and theirs. Nobody spoke for years. Everyone drifted apart. So no one was there for Caitlin and Shane when their parents died. Good thing Mildred stepped in to help or the two would have had to fend for themselves. When Caitlin got in touch with Leslie over a year ago it breathed new life into their family.

  The Broun cousins had reconnected.

  That’s how Caitlin liked to phrase it because they were all descendants of Mildred and her siblings. Hence they were all a part of the great Scottish Broun clan.

  “Plotting out your next book?”

  She was about to respond but Trevor shook his head. “No, of course not. This time you’re deep in thought about loved ones lost then found.”

  It was hard not to smile. “You know me too well. Yeah, I was busy thinking how lucky I am. It’s great to have us all together again.”

  “Even in the maelstrom of Leslie and Sheila?” he asked.

  “Aye, even.”

  “I like how you’ve started talking like you write. It’s cute.”

  “What? Oh. Right. Sorry. It’s becoming a habit. I’ve gotta stop.”

  “Naw, it suits you somehow. Don’t stop.” They trailed after his little spider flashlight, its glow cutting through the woodland with amazing precision. “It means you’re truly becoming part of what you write. Like you always say, ‘Show, don’t tell.’”

  “Rule of thumb in writing,” she agreed. “But not really the case here. Love your vote of confidence, though. The truth is I think I’m becoming a little too immersed in the worlds I create. In fact, I think I’m going a little insane.”

  “How so?”

  “For starters people are creeping up on me. Well, I shouldn’t say it like that. What I mean is people are suddenly next to me when I don’t see or hear them coming. If that isn’t enough, I guess I spoke gibberish this morning when Skyping with Leslie. Ancient Scottish Gaelic or something.”

  A warm summer wind blew through the woods, cooling off her enflamed skin. She’d be lying if she said what Leslie showed her wasn’t alarming.

  Trevor squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You’re just under a lot of pressure, honey. That’s why I’m here. I knew things were getting intense for you.”

  “Intense? That’s an understatement,” she muttered. But she felt better just by having him here. Seth might keep her upbeat but Trevor grounded her. The world could go upside down crazy, but with Trevor here it all made sense. Everything that’d been crooked stood upright. “I guess I spoke about unbroken circles and a guy. It sounded almost intimate.”

  “And Leslie caught this?” he asked, astounded.

  “Yep, can you imagine? The most down-to-earth person I know. Which sort of freaked me out even more. Had it been Sheila I might not have taken it too seriously. No offense, but we all know how much she loves fantasy fiction. That type of thing would be right up her alley.”

  “You’re not completely free of the bug yourself, you know,” he remarked.

  “What bug?”

  “The fantasy fiction one. Didn’t you imply that Iosbail had a special gift? One that allowed even the most calloused of Highlanders to see women a wee bit differently than they had before.”

  They’d nearly reached Stonehenge and still it seemed his little spider flashlight had a specific destination so they dutifully followed. “Iosbail was only ever a figment of the heroine’s imagination. It was never really meant to be a fantasy element just a voice in my character’s head. One of many might I add.”

  “I thought her pretty special. In fact, I always figured she was sort of your alter ego.”

  She pressed her teeth together. Only Trevor would think as much. “Which would mean you think I compare myself to my heroine who at first came off as a shy, unobtrusive creature with little or no backbone.”

  “Well…” He laughed when she scowled. “What?” he asked. “Should I have responded differently? Okay.” His face grew serious then his eyes rounded. “McKayla, I would never think that of you! You should know better. I’ve never met a more forthright, my-way-or-the-highway woman.”

  “Oh please.” McKayla rolled her eyes and followed the little tech spider to a spear shaped rock at the heart of Stonehenge. She leaned against the rock and stared out at the forest. This stone fell in line with Summer Solstice. “I really love it here.”

  Trevor smiled, placed his hand against the rock and peered out over the swath of land. “Me too. It’s peaceful.”

  She picked up the spider flashlight and put it on the rock. As if understanding it could relax, it whirred and preened, its little legs retracting before it settled down. The light vanished and the faint sound of bagpipes emitted from an unseen speaker.

  McKayla put a hand over her heart and stared at the little piece of technology programmed specifically to celebrate the release of her Highlander novel. “You are completely insane.” She looked at him. “And entirely too sweet. Thank you.”

  He winked
. “If we weren’t trespassing I would’ve had it in a kilt, programmed it to speak with a brogue, and trained it to play a miniature bagpipe, but I knew you’d want to be here. Or at least I’d hoped.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because while you think it’s the colonial that inspired your novel, I know it’s really this place. Every day you talk about your walks out here. Then you come back, sit down and write like a mad woman. Never forget, I was there with you nearly every step of Plight of the Highlander. I think I understand Colin MacLeod better than you do.”

  “Do you?” She grinned and shook her head. “Actually, you probably do. Good thing I wrote the book in the off season so I wasn’t breaking the law too awfully bad.”

  “Oh, you were a regular outlaw,” he promised with a devilish glint in his eyes. “But it was a great thing.”

  “Was it?” She gazed up at the sky. “The story is so unlike anything that I wrote at the Cape.” McKayla couldn’t help but look at him and ask, “Do you think my other stuff was totally boring?”

  “No,” he responded instantly. “While it may have been safer it was still interesting.” His eyes covered her face, suddenly reminding her of how he’d once looked at her. “Everything you’ve ever written is profound, McKayla. Plight of the Highlander will draw eyes and eventually your old work will be recognized. I don’t doubt it for a second.”

  In that moment it was hard to remember why they ever broke up. Trevor knew her better than anyone and supported her always. If only that’d been enough. But with him nothing was ever enough and she’d been smart enough to recognize it. He could never be tied down by any one woman or any one obligation. For that matter by anything that made him feel trapped. In a weird way, he was sick. Sick with fear of something she’d never understand. McKayla remembered well the day she’d discovered that Trevor would never be hers for too long.

  It had been the day he proposed marriage.

  “To celebrate I’ve brought you something very special.” He pulled an object from his pocket. “A gift.”

  Ripped from thought she stared down at what he held out. She took the odd contraption. “What’s this?”

  “It’s my latest creation. Actually, I’m an unseen partner in this project. Partly my idea, mostly their money.”

  McKayla studied the fabric in the dim moonlight. It appeared to be something one would put over their eyes to keep the light out when they tried to sleep. “What does it do?”

  Excitement radiated off him. “You know how you’ve been having dreams about Scotland. Ones that never quite make sense. You never see anyone, never talk to anyone yet you know they’re there?”

  He was the only one she’d told about the dreams that had started when she moved into the colonial. “Yes, what of them?”

  “This device will help make them clear,” he whispered eagerly, touching the fabric and her hand all at once. “This will help you see everything you couldn’t before. It allows you to control your lucid dream state.”

  She blinked and frowned. “I don’t understand. They were just dreams, Trevor. Why would I want to control them?”

  “Why not?” he asked, impassioned. “This is cutting edge technology. Do you have any idea how much this will impact society when it’s released to the public? It’ll change everything.”

  McKayla breathed in sharply through her nose and pushed the object back toward him. This was the Trevor that made him impossible to love beyond friendship. This career driven, hungry stranger that wanted to rule the world with the next bright idea.

  His warm hands clamped around hers and the device. “No,” he said passionately. “This isn’t like all the rest, Kay. I swear. This is different. It enables you to control the full Rapid Eye Movement state of sleep which by the way is the healthiest form of rest. So not only do you choose where and what you want to dream about, you get the best sleep possible.”

  “Trevor!” she cried softly. “This is supposed to be my day.”

  “And it is,” he responded. “I’m giving this to you. Not for me but for you.”

  She glowered at him. Trevor was a handsome sight. But, Trevor passionate about something nearly took one’s breath away. His neatly brushed hair was tussled, errant strands askew across his forehead. His brilliant green eyes took on a tempting wildness.

  As she’d trained herself to do, McKayla focused on her calm center and let it flow out through her limbs. If not, she’d go nuts on him. If history had proven one thing it was that Trevor didn’t handle crazed women well. He didn’t hit back. No, not Trevor. He fled. Vanished.

  “I hate that you’re making me find my calm center,” she grumbled.

  He pulled back as though she’d slapped him. “Did I just do that?”

  “You know you did.”

  Luckily their friendship had developed to such a degree that he knew precisely what he’d put her through when they’d been in a relationship. “And it sucks. So, stop it,” she said. “You’re too intense right now.”

  Trevor smoothed back his hair and stood up straighter, suddenly the businessman he prided himself to be. “I’m sorry, Kay. I’m just so excited about this…for you. It’s been in the works for a while. I’ve got two of them with me. One’s in my pocket.” He tucked the other in hers. “And now the other’s in yours.”

  Did he really think her dreams were that important? She certainly hadn’t. They’d never made much sense. Had they inspired her to write about Scotland? Yes. Had they somehow made her fall in love with a time and place not her own? Highly unlikely.

  One thing was for sure, right now she didn’t want to know. “It’s time to get back. After all, Seth threw this party for me.”

  “Right,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, McKayla. I never meant…”

  “No worries,” she replied just as softly. “Your heart’s always in the right place. Don’t think I don’t know that.”

  His tired eyes met hers. “You’ve no idea.”

  For the first time in a very long time she felt that old familiar weakening in her knees. With a hard swallow she looked away from his intense gaze. Yeah, call Leslie a soul reader all day long but she had nothing on Trevor. If McKayla didn’t play her cards right and keep her emotions locked up tight he’d eat her soul alive and she’d love every last minute of it.

  “Don’t forget your new flashlight. It might’ve found its way here but has no idea how to get home,” Trevor said.

  “Of course,” she said and went to grab the box off the rock. The minute her hand was within inches, little spider legs extended and lifted it up. Arms shot out and a little faceless head extended. A short fabric kilt fell from its waistline, then it lifted a little bagpipe and started playing a happy jig, spider legs bobbing the box up and down.

  Overjoyed in an instant, she burst out laughing. “You did it anyways!”

  “Of course I did,” he said happily.

  Before she knew it, Trevor pulled her into his arms and they danced. In the dark woods surrounded by ancient rock and the memories of a long forgotten people, they twirled to the tune of Highland bagpipes compliments of a box in a kilt. It was amazing and so uniquely him. She loved it.

  Too soon did the song wind down and the kilted creature retracted back into nothing more than a flashlight.

  “Congratulations,” Trevor said, pulling her in for a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you. I hope you know that.”

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “You know I do. Always. And I’m proud of you too. I’m sorry about my reaction to your gift. It’s big. I know.”

  He brushed her hair away from her face, something he’d done before they dated and still did. “I love you, sweetheart, more than anyone, anywhere at any time. You know that right?”

  McKayla wrapped her arms around his neck and put her cheek against his chest. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

  His words warmed her heart. It was a sentiment they used when one or the other needed support. She supposed right now she needed his sup
port more than she wanted to admit. Even though today was the best day of her life, it had also been the scariest.

  “Time to go back,” he said.

  She stepped away. “You sound reluctant.”

  He grimaced and picked up the dormant box off the rock. “Seth threw this party. That means I’m going back to a house full of single men eager to get to know you better.”

  McKayla chuckled as they walked. “You should be happy for me.”

  “Happy for you? Why? Because you have a house full of men that only came because they got a Facebook invite that made you look loose?” He shook his head. “Not so much.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I got the invite too.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Yeah. I think Seth sent that invite to every guy he knew.”

  “He’s worried about me.”

  “So am I,” Trevor admitted. “But you don’t see me sending out mass invites to perfect strangers who could end up doing God knows what to you.”

  “Seth would never allow that.”

  “No, but he’d enable it without realizing. The guy doesn’t think.”

  “He’s changed since marrying Alana. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

  McKayla felt the shift in Trevor’s demeanor. “Moving to San Francisco was the right thing for me. My office is blocks away from some of the world’s largest tech corporations. I’m right where I need to be.”

  “Silicon Valley? Really?” She huffed. “You’re driven enough to accomplish just as much on the East coast.”

  “For people like me everything starts in the Bay Area. You know that.”

  “Then why aren’t you a billionaire. Where’s your fucking techy website?”

  They both stopped short at her words. She didn’t swear. Not ever. But the truth was she wanted him home. More than she realized apparently. And the subject had been coming up more and more often lately.