Lost Highlander

by Cassidy Cayman

  Evelyn nodded sleepily and for a split second thought he was leaning over to give her a kiss and closed her eyes for it, but when nothing happened she opened them to find him halfway down the hall, heading to his own room.

  In her room, she peeled off her many layers of clothes, pulled on a homely flannel nightgown, fiddled with the alarm clock until she felt reasonably sure it would wake her at six the next morning and then lay down on the giant bed, pulling all of the myriad blankets around her.

  Her romance novel lay on the bedside table. The muscular, shirtless Highlander on the cover looked like a glossy spray tanned catalog model, not to mention positively puny compared to the real thing upstairs. She flung out her arm and knocked it off the table, then curled back up under the covers. Thinking about Sam building the fire, she drifted off to sleep, feeling quite warm.

  Chapter 12

  The obnoxious clanging of the vintage alarm clock ripped her from a delightful dream that she couldn’t recall the tiniest bit of by the time she figured out how to turn off the stupid thing. She actually didn’t figure it out, but hurling it across the room and breaking it worked just as well. Knowing that going back to sleep wouldn’t return her to her dream, she got out of bed, wrestled with the cranky old shower and loaded up on clothing, excited to explore the forest with Sam. She didn’t feel at all hopeful that they’d find a time machine, but maybe there would be a suspicious rock formation or fairy infested clearing.

  Finding Sam in the kitchen, frying up some bacon, she was gratified to see his delighted smile when he turned around to find her awake and ready for the day.

  “Look at you,” he said, sliding the bacon onto a pile of paper towels. “And me still in my dressing gown.” She laughed and took a slice of bacon too soon, burning her finger. He looked way too adorable in plaid flannel pajama pants and thick wool socks, a somewhat tattered long sleeved thermal shirt clinging nicely to his firmly muscled chest.

  Eyes up, she admonished herself after admiring him for a moment. They sat together eating bacon in the calm early morning silence and enjoying a few minutes of peace before everything started up again. When Sam went to get dressed, she looked around for a piece of fruit to try to counteract the half pound of bacon she’d just ingested. This wasn’t exactly a vacation, but she was on her way to gaining ten pounds as if it was.

  They were already annoyed at her at Hoochie Mama’s for leaving on such short notice and with no known return date. Every day was a holiday at the only strip club in three counties, being left short handed at any time was a problem. If she couldn’t fit into any of her tarty outfits when she got back, she may as well go apply at the Dunkin Donuts on the highway for all the tips she’d be getting. Well, a good long trek through the woods would work off some of it.

  “Ready to go find the TARDIS?” Sam asked when he returned to the kitchen. He had a backpack that he put a few water bottles in and then went to the pantry and started stuffing in various snack items.

  “Do you think it’s a dumb idea?” she asked, discouraged.

  “No, not at all,” he said quickly, lightly touching her arm. He looked down into her eyes and smiled. “We should cover all our bases, right?”

  She nodded and dropped her eyes to the spot on her arm he had just touched. She wanted to press her hand over it, but suddenly felt self conscious. He twisted his backpack around behind him to slip his arms into it and Evelyn had to put her hands in her back pockets to physically restrain herself from reaching out and stroking his broad shoulders.

  Shaking her head to clear it, she followed him outside, trying and failing not to check out his backside. He took a path that led past the barn, a large stone and wood beam structure that didn’t look like any of the barns she’d seen around Dilbert.

  “Git along, you all, we ain’t got all day,” he said, in the worst attempt at a southern accent she’d ever heard.

  “What was that? Was that supposed to be Texan?” She grimaced painfully. “Don’t do it, ever again.” He laughed and his green eyes shone in the early morning haze that passed for sunshine.

  “You do mine,” he said. She wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms in front of her, digging deep.

  “Oi, mates, wots all this nonsense?” She tried to keep a straight face. “Bugger them sods.” She paused as he started to crack up, and then she finished triumphantly. “Throw another shrimp on the barbie.”

  “Yours was worse,” he said when he had stopped laughing. “That was like a Cockney Australian. And filthy. You can’t say bugger them sods anymore, okay?” He took her by the shoulders and tried to look serious. She nodded and leaned into him a little. After a moment of standing there with his hands still on her shoulders, his face really did turn serious and she forced herself not to sigh when he let go. He pointed to a storage shed a short distance down the hill.

  “We can take a golf cart down to the woods if you want to save time,” he said.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “It’s over a mile to get down there, and then the forest itself is vast, runs all the way past the village in the one direction, and up to the mountains in the other.”

  He pointed down the hill, which just led up another hill, over which she could see the forest in the distance. “Up to you. It’s a bit of fun taking the cart.” He looked down at her, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun, which was now actually shining somewhat brightly for the first time that she’d seen since she arrived. He looked boyishly hopeful.

  “You love driving the golf cart,” she said. He wrinkled his nose and nodded guiltily. She gestured for him to get the cart out of the shed. It really was a thrilling ride, zooming down the hill and then chugging up again, until they came to the edge of the forest. The trees were sparse here, but still loomed over them. Evelyn could see that they wouldn’t have to go too far before they would be densely surrounded. She started wondering if this hike was a good idea.

  “I’ve never gotten lost in there,” Sam said, as if reading her mind. He pointed in several directions, naming them as he did. “Castle on Hill, mountains, straight through leads to a river, then the next village. I’ve been running about in there since I was eight.”

  “How big is it?” she asked.

  “Pretty big, it’s about ten kilometers to town, eighteen or so to hit the base of the mountains, thirty maybe to the river.”

  “Can you tell me about any wild animals we might encounter?”

  “You’re impossible,” he laughed. “Aye well, maybe a squirrel or a rabbit?”

  “No bears or wolves?”

  “No, we’re sadly lacking in wildlife. Perhaps we’ll see a deer. If we do, just get behind me and I won’t let it nibble on you.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him and started into the forest. They trudged along a narrow path, Sam pushing aside low growing branches and helping her over fallen tree trunks. She was pretty nimble and in very good shape, but some strange devil in her was making her enjoy letting him help her. For just a moment, she considered tripping so he could catch her. Pathetic idiot, she thought scornfully.

  She was happy to be out of the house, away from the books and manuscripts and all the strange old things. The quiet of the forest was soothing, with just the crunch of their boots on the path and the occasional fluttering of a bird overhead.

  “Are we really looking for a time machine?” she asked the back of his head. They were deep in the woods and the path had become overgrown with vines, and Sam had gone ahead to knock them out of the way for her. He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder.

  “I don’t know what we’re doing,” he said. “I feel like maybe we’re trying to avoid something.”

  “I don’t think there is a time machine, Sam. Not really.”

  “Do you want to turn back, then?” he asked, turning around and walking backwards for a few steps, his gaze boring into her. She shook her head and he turned back and continued hiking along the path, tearing down vines and brambles so she could pass easily. After
about ten minutes of walking along in silence, Sam called back to her.

  “Magic, then? We’re agreed?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said wearily, scrambling to catch up so they wouldn’t have to yell at each other. The path was too narrow for them to walk side by side, so she stayed slightly behind him. “I don’t like it, though.”

  “Why not?” He turned and looked at her sideways and she shrugged.

  “Because it throws a wrench in things. In everything.”

  “Yeah, I suppose it’s a bit like if God came down and stood on that log over there and said ‘Oi, I’m real’. I’d be partly relieved and partly pissed off.”

  They stopped at the log, a huge moldy fallen tree trunk completely blocking the path. He turned around and seeming to not even think about it, took her by the waist and hoisted her up onto it, then hopped over it and reached up for her hand to help her jump down.

  “You’ve got to wonder why now, all of a sudden? And then I’m always going to wonder if it will ever rear its ugly head again,” he said as he continued along the path, leaving Evelyn to stand by the fallen tree, trying to get her bearings. He’d just picked her up and put her back down again and it had happened so fast she didn’t even get a chance to enjoy it. It would have been the perfect opportunity to finally touch his chest. Realizing he was still talking to her, she jumped to rejoin him. Yikes, they were talking about magic actually existing and she was thinking about … she really had to get it together.

  “It could just have gone extinct, like your Scottish bears,” she said. “And then maybe there was some left on whatever in the hell it is we’re trying to find, and it got released?”

  He gave her a narrow look for the bear comment, but let it pass, feeling they had to get to the bottom of this slippery slope they were on, no matter the consequences. Trudging on, they contemplated various theories.

  “The first day you were here, didn’t you say it could be a spell?” Sam asked, ducking under a branch. “Is magic and witchcraft the same thing?”

  “Lord if I know,” she said. “I guess it could be a spell, but somebody would have had to, you know, cast it.” She felt stupid and was glad she was walking behind him. He was quiet for several yards, then glanced back apprehensively.

  “Do you think it could have been Piper? Who did the spell?”

  “No way,” Evelyn said adamantly. “Piper hates magic. She thinks it’s stupid. She never even read Harry Potter.”

  Sam halted abruptly and shook his head in disbelief, then started walking again.

  “I know,” she said. “I don’t even know how we’re friends.”

  Sam turned and gave her a long searching look. “Could she have done it without knowing?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” Evelyn said, denying what she was already thinking. Clearly, Sam didn’t want to bring it up either.

  “Last night, in the crypt. You saw her. She said something. Something about blood and bones, right?” Sam gripped her upper arms. “You heard her, then she was completely out of it. I don’t even think she knew she said anything.”

  Evelyn nodded, but couldn’t meet his eyes and see the fear and confusion in them, the same emotions she was adamantly trying to deny.

  “Yes, I heard her. But she’s just under a lot of stress. She feels responsible because the manor house is hers now. She feels responsible, but she isn’t.”

  “Maybe she isn’t,” he said ominously and she shivered. He mistook it for her being cold, and motioned that they should turn back. Evelyn shook her head, and instead sat down on a boulder jutting up out of the ground, a few feet off the trail.

  “No, there’s nothing wrong with Piper. It’s just nerves. You know, she’s been talking to Lachlan so much, she’s half in that century and half here. And I know being down in that crypt upsets her.”

  Sam sat down next to her and pulled some power bars out of the backpack, handing one to her. “It upsets you to go down in the crypt. Piper wanted to go, to see the design that was on that necklace. That’s when she got all vacant and started chanting about blood and bones.”

  “She wasn’t chanting. She said one thing, and she’s been sleep deprived for days.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked gently, edging closer to her. She leaned against him a little, for warmth. The trees blocked most of the wind, but they also blocked a good deal of sunlight and the deeper they went, the chillier it felt.

  “Piper’s no witch,” she said.

  “Jesus, I never thought she was. But maybe that necklace is the thing with the curse. Maybe it’s affecting her.” He looked at his half eaten energy bar with distaste and stuffed it back into the backpack. Evelyn’s also started tasting unsavory, her stomach roiling from nerves. She folded the wrapper over the uneaten half and put it in Sam’s pack. He took her hand and patted it. “Let’s go back.”

  “I’m glad we took the golf cart,” she said.

  Sam led them out of the forest at a breakneck pace, and Evelyn was struggling not to outwardly pant. They were mostly quiet, Sam occasionally pointing out an interesting lichen pattern or an overgrowth of mushrooms, and one obese, sinister looking squirrell.

  As she trotted along she couldn’t help but keep her eyes peeled for a glint of metal, a mysterious panel covered in buttons and dials peeking out from under a carefully placed pile of moss, even a blue police phone box, for goodness sake. However, there was no sign of any sort of time machine in the forest, at least not on the path they’d taken. Finally, the trees started to thin and she could see the green grassy hills and open sky. She’d never been so happy to see a golf cart in her life.

  Tooling along toward the house, Sam took an abrupt turn away from it, leaning on the gas pedal to get the poor little cart to power up a hill. He patted its steering wheel when they made it to the summit, then pointed down at the manor in all its splendor.

  It was the first she’d been able to view it in its entirety, the west wing looking like a somber brick mental institution, its rows and rows of dead-eyed windows staring out at them, then it curved inward around a small fruit tree orchard. The much older, high stone tower that Lachlan had first appeared in, swooped upward from a bridge-like structure that connected it to the more modern brick addition, looming over the orchard below. There were several shorter stone parapets and a stone walkway in front of what seemed like another modern addition behind it, whitewashed stone and brick, and more rows of windows, some of them stained glass, a few of them sadly boarded up. She noticed the fancy formal courtyard with the curving gravel driveway, with paths leading to the barns and around to the front of the house. Attached to the modern middle structure, where she assumed they were currently living, was another shorter tower and a squat stone battlement. It was a majestic mess sprawling atop the hill like a drunken king.

  “You can tell it used to be a castle from this far back,” she said, trying to picture what the stone parapets and turrets and towers would have looked like without the more modern addition stuck onto the front and off to the side of it. “Hey, is that the Castle on Hill?” she asked, suddenly getting the odd name of the village. He tried to suppress his laughter.

  “Not getting your advanced degree in the obvious, are you then?”

  She half heartedly swatted at his arm, still taken by the grand view. “This was a nice detour.” She smiled shyly up at him and he nodded. He looked down at her for a long moment, then shook his head.

  “But best be getting on, right?”

  Chapter 13

  Banging sounds greeted them as Sam and Evelyn opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. The old plank table was covered in stacks of books, some tattered and worn, some of them public library books. A huge map of the village was taped to the floor on one side of the table, a juice glass set smack in the middle of the estate, leaving a soggy ring on the paper. Piper popped up from under the kitchen sink where she was carefully trying to arrange copper pots into what looked like a pyramid. She waved at them and when th
e pots went crashing, she threw up her hands and just kicked them all into the cabinet under the sink.

  “Morning, sunshines,” she said, smiling broadly. She looked exhausted, with cavernous dark circles beneath her eyes, which were glassy from lack of sleep. She had pushed up the sleeves of her high collared Victorian style, or very possibly actual Victorian blouse, and her arms were blotchy and dry from scratching at them and not using lotion. Evelyn had already gone through an entire bottle of lotion since she’d been here. The weather was vicious and she knew if she didn’t show constant vigilance she’d end up covered in scales.

  Piper pushed her disheveled hair out of her face and waved at her handiwork. “I brought all the books out here, there’s more natural light. The library was just killing me. It’s so depressing. Ugh. And I found that map.” She stopped and looked at them for approval, and was faced with mild confusion. “I thought it might be helpful.”

  “Piper, did you get any sleep last night?” Evelyn asked, as Sam sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island. Piper shrugged.

  “Yeah, I guess. A little.” She pulled at the lacy collar of her blouse and scowled at Sam. “Where have you two layabouts been all morning?”

  Evelyn glanced at the clock, it was just past ten. They’d been out in the woods for about three hours. Her stomach growled inopportunely.

  “We thought there might be some clues in the forest,” Sam said, glancing at Evelyn. Piper heard Evelyn’s stomach and hauled out one of the pans.

  “If you’re thinking of bacon, please don’t,” Evelyn said. “I’ll just make a peanut butter sandwich or something.”

  “Good luck,” Piper said bitterly. “They don’t sell it in the village. I haven’t had any since I’ve been here. I should have asked you to bring some, but wasn’t thinking straight at the time.”

  “What?” Evelyn looked at Piper, then Sam, then shook her head. “That barely seems civilized. I’ll be fine. More bacon will kill me. I will drop dead of a heart attack at age twenty five.”