“I am sorry ye lost yer friend, lass. Angus must return to his time, afore he does more damage. Gavin will see to it, with yer help. Then he will be free to search for his brother.”
And, free to take Lana as his wife.
The thought made Jenny’s chest tighten. “Ok, then. Here goes. Do you want us to put up the closed sign?”
Dorcas nodded. “But first, lean down so I may give ye a message for the young laird. That boy is a ship adrift.”
Jenny leaned down, and listened to the strange message. Dorcas patted Jenny’s hand, turned on her side, and snored. Chuckling, Jenny covered her with the wool blanket. When she slipped from the small bedchamber, Gavin and Rae turned and smiled at her, while Jaden-Tog tugged on her skirt.
“Are we ready, lass?”
“Yes. Dorcas said we can close up her shop.” She blew out the lanterns. “You three head to the waterfall. I will follow, after I walk around the Highland games a bit.”
“Nay! Ye would be vulnerable to my sire!” Gavin marched across the tent, and leaned closer.
With his features hidden in shadow, and his huge shoulders blocking the remaining light from outside the tent, she shivered, but not with fear. He smelled like rainwater and meat pies.
“I will no’ have ye harmed again.”
“I don’t plan to get anywhere near that bastard! I’ll take Balfour with me, head toward the road, then home. He is most likely hiding somewhere between these two places, right?”
Gavin nodded. “I doono’ think it is safe for ye to be alone.”
“Too bad. I want my life back. I’m also worried there is a spy nearby. Someone placed a basket of poisoned apples in Dorcas’ cart. You can investigate later.”
“God’s teeth! What if it was ye who had eaten a poisoned apple?”
The fear in Gavin’s eyes touched her heart. Jenny swallowed. “Lucky for me, I didn’t. Besides, Dorcas gave me some advice, and I think it will help you. Ready?”
“What advice?”
“Later. Oh…she did have a message for you. Let me see, she said, ‘Look beyond the shore, dark Highlander.’ She said it with a creepy voice. Any idea what it means?”
Gavin shook his head.
“Let us get this plan in action!” the brownie said. Somersaulting beneath one of the tables, he stood up, clutching a pair of kitchen shears.
“Planning on de-boning a chicken?”
Jaden-Tog’s stomach growled.
Jenny chuckled. “You cook meat pies, and you’re still starving?”
He shrugged his shoulders, then raced outside.
“Don’t run with… oh, never mind.” Jenny straightened her skirt, checked to make sure the stones were safe in her deep pocket, and turned toward the men. “Shall we?”
Gavin muttered, and Rae chuckled as they followed her outside. They closed the tent flaps, she turned the sign from open to closed, then she followed them to the horses. Visitors gawked at her companions. Big, brawny men dressed in sexy plaids, with dirks at their hips, and boots that covered muscular calves, were the perfect companions for a woman in danger. She’d never seen more handsome men in her life, especially these two, who marched up the lane like Highland warriors heading to a battle.
Gavin helped her mount Balfour. “Mayhaps I should give ye Falcon. ‘Tis a mighty steed, and fast as lightning.”
Scratching Balfour behind his left ear, she said, “How sweet, but you need a horse that can carry you both, am I right?”
Gavin nodded. Carrying both her, and the brownie, proved nearly too much for the old horse. Jake trusted her enough to care for the animal, so it made sense.
“Besides, Balfour knows the way. I’ll meet you at Faerie Falls. Make sure you’re well hidden, but close enough to come to my rescue.” Leaning down, she kissed Gavin. He cupped her cheek, while the other hand rested on her naked thigh. Breaking out in a sweat, she released him from the kiss, then tugged her skirt lower.
She hadn’t forgotten he’d called her an obligation. When this was over, and Gavin left, her life would never be the same.
The men headed through the woods, but she and Balfour took a longer route. Kneeing the horse’s sides, she did not stray too near the fenced-in sheep, and she noticed that the Highland cattle were gone. Sorrow filled her, knowing Mr. Hay had lost his son.
At the highway, Balfour took off in a trot. If Sinclair was anywhere near the games, he couldn’t miss her in her bright, white blouse.
This early in the afternoon, the road was clear of traffic, so she kept the animal on the centerline. It was prudent to stay far from the dark trees lining the road.
After turning Balfour up her driveway, her chest clenched and tears fell at the sight of her destroyed home. Yellow tape surrounded the rubble. The fire was out and the smoke had dissipated, leaving a pile of damp, stinky rubble.
She headed for the trees beyond the barn, kneeing Balfour into a cantor. As far as she knew, Angus Sinclair was on foot. Recalling how Jaden-Tog had dropped from a tree, she kept her eyes raised. Luckily, the horse knew the way.
When they broke free of the trees, and the stream spread out before her, she relaxed. Thunder from farther upstream beckoned. The air was warm and dry, and the afternoon sun beat down. If she had to end up swimming, today was a good day for it.
As they trotted around the bend, cool spray dampened her cheeks. Droplets formed on her chest, then trickled down between her breasts. The air was filled with the scent of fresh rainwater and fall flowers, but time was wasting.
Time to look like bait.
She slid off Balfour, walking him to the trees, but didn’t tie him. If things went awry, he’d be able to run away. He grazed on the last vestiges of grass, at the foot of the bushes. She’d forgotten he hadn’t eaten, today. “Poor hungry beast.”
“Aye, I am hungry, and ye shall fill the breach.”
Spinning toward Angus Sinclair, horror raced over her, as he ran closer. His hands were open, like the claws of a deranged bear, and he’d reach her in seconds, if she didn’t do something, and fast.
Run.
The command was clear as day, and she headed for the water. Sinclair, weighed down with heavy leather armor, knee-high boots, and his big belly, might not catch her in time. If she could out-swim him, until the men set their trap, she’d survive.
The riverbank was slippery, and small slime-coated rocks, slowed her progress. A twisted ankle would cost her her life.
“Stand still, ye wee harlot.”
Without glancing behind her at his progress, she dove beneath the surface, and kicked. When the water grew deeper, she made a sharp right turn, and headed for the waterfall.
She couldn’t differentiate between his boots hitting the water, and the waterfall’s thundering cascade, but kept swimming. When the lack of air grew too intense, she surfaced.
He grabbed her by the hair. “Got ye.”
She shrieked.
“I knew where ye headed, lass. I discovered this place yesterday. ‘Tis the perfect spot for rutting with ye.”
Kicking, she screamed louder. When she could touch the ground, she struggled harder. With his fist in her hair, he circled her waist with his other hand. Pulled beneath the cascade, she swung her fists, trying to hit his face. He forced her head beneath the surface, then pulled her back up. She coughed and sputtered. Cool water dripped in her eyes, and she shivered.
“Where…where are we?”
“We be under the falls itself, witch. ‘Tis a ledge here that I shall put to good use. Too bad I am without my potions.”
“Did you lose them?” Any conversation would delay whatever he had planned, she hoped.
“I dinno’ wish them harmed by water. They be safely hidden, ‘til after we have our fun.”
He released her hair, then slammed her front against a rocky ledge. She grabbed for any kind of handhold, but the years of waterfall spray had smoothed the rocks. With her head and breasts above the ledge, her feet dangled. When he pushed her soaked skir
t up her legs, she screamed and kicked.
“Be quiet, ye harlot. ‘tis only a moment I need, then we shall be on our way. Me bollocks have been blue for days, thinking about this, but this water be frigid, so it shall take me a moment to rise to the occasion.” When one of his hands left her, probably to unlace his pants, she made her move.
Concentrating on the body behind her, she twisted sideways. As she expected, the slime-covered ledge helped move her out of his reach. Sinclair bellowed, then reached for her. Kicking at his chest, she pushed up on top of the shelf. On her back, with aching ribs, she screamed as loud as she could. Would anyone hear her beneath the falls?
***
“That was Jenny’s scream!” Gavin leapt from their hiding place among the trees. They had chosen a spot above the falls, a maneuver that had not proved ideal.
“Where are they?” Rae asked. Drawing their weapons, they searched the banks on either side of the falls. The bushes on Gavin’s side rustled, and he held his sword at the ready.
“ ‘Tis me, my laird.” Jaden-Tog hopped into the open. “I have yer sire’s sack of potions. I watched him hide it beneath an oak tree, afore he chased yer woman.”
Another scream echoed over the water, and both men twisted around, while the brownie chuckled.
“Where is she?” Gavin asked.
The brownie pointed toward the thundering cascade.
Beneath the spray,
beyond the falls, her
virtue soon to lose.
Rae glanced at the brownie, and then at Gavin. “What is that song he sings? What is his meaning?”
Gavin recalled the story Bull shared over a tankard of fine honey ale. He told him he had made love to Izzy in a private cave, concealed by the waterfall.
“ ‘Tis a cave beneath the falls!” Gavin dropped his sword, and raced to the side of the cascade. He could not see beneath the spray, and entering blind was dangerous.
“Wait, my laird. A distraction is my specialty. After thievery, that is.” Jaden-Tog jumped up into the air, and disappeared.
He entered the water with a splash. Moments passed, and dread filled Gavin, until a drenched head of brown hair popped up.
“Gavin!”
“Jenny!” He rushed into the shallows. She swam toward shore, and had nearly made it into his outstretched arms, when another head broke the surface. This one, with gray hair tied back in a queue, bobbed face down, and motionless.
“I’m fine.” Jenny coughed. Struggling to shore, she got close enough to grab onto Gavin’s forearms. “Your father…”
“I shall get him!” Rae said. He strode into the waist-high water, and dragged the elder Sinclair to shore by the hair. After dropping his unconscious form face down on the grass, Rae kicked him.
As the old man moaned, Gavin shook Jenny’s shoulder. “What did you do to him? How did you get away?”
“Me? I kicked him a few times, after he tried to…” Jenny clamped a hand over her chest, then coughed up some water.
Gavin helped her to shore. When the brownie appeared by their side, Gavin ordered him to fetch a dry blanket from his steed. Jaden-Tog hurried off.
“We heard ye screaming, but neither Rae, nor myself, could find ye.”
Jaden-Tog returned, and Gavin settled the blanket around her. She pointed her chin toward the prone form as Rae tied the man’s hands. “That man is evil. Jaden-Tog distracted him just long enough for me to escape.”
“I am grateful to the imp.” He kissed her damp forehead.
Jenny sighed, until her teeth chattered. “Your father seems to have one thing on his mind, when he’s not thinking of ways to get you to go home. I’m tired of it.”
Her warm breath calmed his terror-filled mind. Had they not found her in time, his sire might have harmed her in a most despicable way. The sun beat down, and the scent of river water, sunlight, and wool could not disguise her womanly fragrance. His body reacted, in his groin, and heart. He wished he did not have to leave her behind.
Gavin’s jaw tightened, and the urge to rip off his sire’s bollocks rose so rapidly, he wrapped his arms around Jenny to keep from drawing his weapon. If she felt his rigid length, she said nothing.
“We need to conjure a way to get him home. A cold cell awaits him.”
“Oh!” Pushing the blanket open, Jenny dug into a pocket of her skirt.
Gavin’s attention fell to the dark nipples visible beneath her damp shirt. The fabric clung to her skin, leaving nothing to the imagination, and he knew the taste of those tiny buds. He licked his lips.
“Stop that,” she whispered, then louder said, “I have them!”
Rae stepped closer, brushing gravel from his hands. “Stones? Ye carry pretty stones?”
“They can get you home. Bring the horses. Quickly!”
Rae, and the brownie, did as she commanded.
“Tie him to Falcon, and mount up. Rae, you take Jaden-Tog, and climb on Balfour,” Gavin ordered.
Jenny looked at the brownie. “Did you accomplish your mission?”
The imp smiled, raised the bag, handing it to Gavin. “His bag of potions, young laird.”
“It might take time to discern which potion will take us home.” Gavin raised the bag and searched its contents. Nothing looked familiar.
“No problem,” Jenny said, “I have you covered. Mount up!”
They did as she told them, as she held the stones in her palms, staring at the trees.
“That be her aura-reading stare,” Rae whispered, as a nervous Balfour lurched sideways. Falcon whinnied, and stamped one hoof, while an eerie breeze tossed tree branches right and left.
“I have it! Ride straight ahead, and you’ll be home in seconds.” Jenny pointed at a glow between two large oak trees.
It barely registered, but the tunnel it formed seemed plausible to Gavin. Balfour headed into the void carrying Rae and Jaden-Tog, vanishing into the gilded mist.
“Goodbye, my love,” Jenny whispered.
From Falcon’s saddle, Gavin looked down at Jenny. Tears dampened her cheeks, and her grief-filled expression touched his heart. It was time to go home, but how could he say good-bye? He ought to leave her to her world, but she mentioned someone had told his father their whereabouts, and Dorcas had been poisoned, so Jenny was still in danger. With his sire strapped across the front of his saddle, Gavin bent down, grabbed her forearm, and swung her up behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“Heading home,” he answered, as Falcon leapt into the void.
CHAPTER 27
Jenny tumbled through the portal surrounded by the gold aura only she had seen, and screamed. Blinded by brilliant light, she hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. Her right shoulder and hip took the brunt of the impact, and the instant silence added to the sense of aloneness. Her heart rate doubled, as worry for the others gripped her.
Raising her head, tufts of dried grass clung to her hair and cheek. She rubbed her temples, then turned onto her back in a rolling meadow. “Or, is my head the one that’s spinning?”
When she sat up, resting on her palms, she blinked. The sun was low on the horizon, which puzzled her. Hadn’t it been midday moments earlier?
“Maybe I was knocked out.” She glanced around, and saw nothing familiar. “Gavin? Rae? Where is everybody?” The salty tang of the sea made her stiffen. She was no longer near Faerie Falls in the mountains of New England, which meant that her magical stones, and the glowing portal worked, but Gavin forced her to go back in time with him. Why?
A gorse bush rustled nearby, and before she could scream, Jaden-Tog hopped into the open. His light brown jerkin was askew, and he had twigs and berries in his hair and beard.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Aye, though a bit woozy. ‘Twas powerful magic ye conjured.”
“Me? No, it was the magic stones you stole from Izzy.”
He laughed, then grabbed his stomach. “Nay, lass. Ye have the power in ye. Those stones were pretty, but
I sensed no magic in them. Ye be a different story. Ooh!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My gut aches.”
“You’re still hungry?” She felt like laughing, but the situation was too serious.
He glared at her, his eyes black and pain-filled. “Nay. I fell on a not-too-comfortable rock over yonder, then tumbled through a patch of spiky thistles.”
“If we were near Dorcas Swann’s tent, I could mix up a healing drink. Any idea where we are?”
He sniffed. “A short walk from Castle Ruadh.”
She pushed to her feet, brushing dead grass from her dry skirt. “Wait a minute. I was soaking wet, a moment ago. You can smell where we are?”
He shrugged his shoulders, and glanced at the sun setting in the west. “We may have slept awhile. Have ye found the others?”
She shook her head.
“We should get to the castle. I doono’ want to be outside the walls after dark.” He headed east.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t want to be here, and Gavin had no right to grab me like he did. Why would he?”
“Ye can ask him when ye find him, but hurry. Think, lass. If ye landed here, separated from Gavin and his mount, and Rae and Balfour are no’ with me any longer, who can say if that bastard, Angus Sinclair, is also free.”
Jenny gathered her skirts and ran.
***
Rae stumbled, landing on one knee. Dazed and disoriented, he struggled to his feet and walked slowly over a small hillock, toward a familiar sound. “Balfour, ye old fart, I hear ye munching.”
Balfour whinnied, then continued feeding on a lonely patch of grass. Rae grabbed the old steed’s reins, mounted, then patted Balfour’s neck. The old garron tossed his dark mane.
“We have people to find, as well as yer friend. Can ye smell Falcon?” Balfour was not a talkative beast, so Rae let him have his head. His gift, or curse, did not always work smoothly with large beasts.
They trotted over another hillock, and along a trail lined with scraggly gorse bushes. They passed a rowan tree, but when they neared an apple orchard, Balfour slowed. Rae allowed him his head, and the beast snatched an apple from a low-hanging branch, then continued east. “The castle must be near. Ye did well, Balfour.”
My Dark Highlander Page 25
