by Ria Cantrell
Morag faced Drew and with a cold look he had long gotten used to from when he first met her in Caleb MacCollum’s private chambers on the night he had sought Bronwyn’s hand in marriage.
God’s teeth, it was getting harder and harder to face these trials, Morag thought. She had to remain firm, for the Visions never lied and she knew she had to bring Kiera Campbell back through time to aid Bronwyn and Drew. She would not let his anger thwart what the Fates had shown her in the dream and what she had seen with the scrying stones.
“Andrew,” she said softly. Her voice conveyed the severity of her next words. Drew was oddly mollified by the tone of it and the sound of his full name on her lips spoke a warning to be heeded.
“Derek Campbell paid a dear price for all the wrongs he had done in this time. He is nay the same man he once was. Kiera has tamed his wild brokenness. He will nay return to his past for it is too dangerous now that he lives in a different time. In this time, he still is locked in his prison of atonement. Kiera is our only hope…more than I can explain.”
Drew’s jaw flexed in irritation. Leaning against the wall near the mantle of his fireplace, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Woman, please spare me your mysterious predictions. I have not the heart or time for it.”
Eying the tall man who was the mate of her beloved Bronwyn, Morag knew he had been so good for Bronwyn and his loyalty to the clan had never wavered. It was beyond admirable. Morag also knew that despite Drew’s good nature, he was not a man to trifle with. He was a lethal warrior in his own right and he would defend his family and clan at any threat of danger. She knew that Derek Campbell represented a terrible time in the clan’s past and she understood his reaction. There just was no other way. The Ancients had shown her. Ach, sometimes the Visions took hours to recover from; especially if they were a portent of something very dangerous. It was more than Jenna’s absence to displease a royal guest. Peril and betrayal lurked at the forefront of the visit. The Ancients had shown her that Kiera was needed to help thwart it somehow.
“Does Ruiri and Brielle know Derek Campbell lives?”
Morag shook her head, no.
“The secrets I keep have weighed heavy upon me. It has nay been easy to guard them at times. But when I am called by the Ancients to stay the hands of Destiny, I must abide Their warnings.”
Drew blew out his breath in a huffing sound. “And just what do you think Ruiri and Brielle will do when they learn the truth? The Campbell evil was a long time to be laid to rest for both of them. I saw firsthand how the darkness Ruiri harbored after the death of Caitlyn transformed him. It resides in him still. Do ye’ think to bring that back? And Brielle…she suffered so much at the hands of those bestial brothers of hers. Why, just the fact that she never claimed this place; which was rightfully hers, speaks loudly of Brielle’s fight with the wrongs done to her in the past. She ne’er even visits here.”
“The Past should remain where it belongs. I learned that the hard way. Now in this present time, we need to do what must be done to save us all.”
“I hardly think my missing daughter is cause to worry about all of our wellbeing.”
It was Bronwyn who validated Morag’s dire warning. “My love, Morag is nay one to make predictions lightly. If she believes that bringing this woman to our home to aid us during the King’s stay would not cast us as withholding to his whims, then we should heed her.”
“Lad ye’ have known me these many years and I have nay been a woman to cause undue trouble or to ill advise ye’.”
Bronwyn and Drew exchanged a look and Morag grumbled, “Alright, I may have meddled a time or two, but t’was always for the greater purpose. I tell ye’ now it would be not just unwise to deny this king even his slightest wish. He is unpredictable. I have seen shadows…so many shadows….” Her voice thinned to a whisper and Drew was not convinced it wasn’t for effect. Morag sighed again. She was really getting too old for all of this. Drew’s eyes searched the face of his beloved wife and then he said, “Alright. I know you know things that we cannot yet see. Tell me this. Is our daughter in danger?”
Morag closed her eyes and reached out to Jenna. A slow smile spread on her lips, slightly dispelling the pall of her tale and she said, “Oh aye, she is in danger. T’is true. She is in grave peril of losing her heart. Our Jenna will succumb to love after all. I canna’ say when or to whom, for that is yet to be revealed to me, but love will find her and she will nay be able to fight it or deny it. Ach, she is so much like ye’, my Rose. So very much like ye’.”
~
Chapter Thirteen – Scotland 1387 – Outer MacDougal Holdings ~
Jenna Brandham sat stiffly upon her mount; her spine was set with determination as she rode along side of her cousin and closest friend, Brigid Caitlyn. Her cousin’s smile could not dispel the ill humor that had been part of Jenna’s demeanor ever since she had safely arrived at MacCollum Keep. What should have been a fun adventure was overshadowed with dark thoughts that left Jenna sullen and brooding. The fact was that she was assailed with guilt over what she had done to her parents. Aye, she was a grown woman, but she should not have denied her duties to her household; especially during so critical a time. Even if the king’s visit was to secure a marriage for her, she realized she should not have run off and left them in the binding predicament of having to explain her absence. That and the fact that her duties would have to be shared by others for the preparation and receiving of the royal entourage.
Brigid Caitlyn queried, “What is wrong with ye’, Jenna? Ye’ look as cross as can be! I thought ye’ couldna’ wait to get to the fete.”
“I’ve been thinkin’ I shouldna’ have left home with all the preparations needed to be done before the king’s visit.”
Brigid laughed. Her soft blue eyes twinkled in the dappled shade of the wooded road. “But ye’ said ye’ thought the king was coming with some arranged marriage fer’ ye’.”
“Oh, I still think that is the part of it, make no mistake about that. But, I think I should nay have left without a word to my mother or father. They will be worried about me and….”
“And furious, no doubt. T’is a good thing that Uncle Drew does nay take to cutting the switch to hide ye’.” Brigid Caitlyn giggled, but her cheery mood did nothing to change Jenna’s sour one.
“I dare say, I probably would deserve it if he thought to thrash me for it.”
“Aye, that t’is true, but what’s done is done. Now we are nearly to the MacDougals. A few hours longer and we will be there. Besides, suppose they will arrange a marriage fer’ ye’…well then, ye’ may as well enjoy this wee bit o’ freedom for now.”
“Ugh! Dunna’ say such a thing. It makes it worse…like I’m bein’ fed my last meal before being led to the block.”
Brigid laughed again, tossing her head so that her long glossy locks spilled down her back. Jenna thought about how pretty her cousin was and she wished she could be like her in other ways, too. Brigid was always quick with a smile and her looks melted many a heart. She had thick hair without the slightest of waves which was the color of dark chestnuts. Her complexion was bronzed and flawless that sported large blue eyes fringed with dark lashes. She was stunning and Jenna always felt like the plain cousin with dour moods when she was with her.
Jenna pushed some wayward strands of her own hair from her cheek. It was thick, aye, but it was more a dark shade of auburn that turned burnished in the sunlight. Though at times, it looked like a reddish pitch depending how the light hit it. She was much fairer than Brigid’s golden skin tone and she knew that the slightest bit of sun would scorch her red and leave her with a dusting of freckles, to be certain. Jenna hated that. Jenna mostly kept her hair plaited because it seemed unruly at times. It had a natural wave that gave way to fat tangles if she left it loose to curl about the ends. It was no surprise that when she and Brigid were in the same room, that men flocked to her cousin like the king holding court. Blast and damn! That thought brought Jenna
back to be reminded of what she had done and what she had avoided. She brooded silently while Brigid chattered on.
Jenna waited for Brigid to take a breath from her excited, albeit, one-sided discussion on all the handsome MacDougal men that would probably be attending the celebration. Jenna finally interrupted, saying, “Briggie, I think I need to go home. I should nay have come. I know that now. I was wrong. I need to face my fears and return to Campbell Keep.”
Brigid stopped her amiable twitter and she fairly turned in her saddle to face her cousin.
“Have ye’ gone mad? Do ye’ think my da’ will want to turn back now? We have less than a full day’s ride till we arrive.”
“T’is nay like I dunna’ know the way back. I can get there easily by myself.”
“Now I know ye’ have lost yer wits. First of all, t’is much too dangerous to travel alone. Why, anything could happen to ye’ and all of them are terrible to think about.”
“Why? I made it safely on my own to MacCollum. I can do the same back to my own home. I need to make things right, Briggie.”
The normally jovial Brigid Caitlyn suddenly sounded angry and disappointed. “Jen, ye’ know I am always one for an adventure. I’ve been yer’ cohort many a time, but even I know t’was foolish of ye’ to take such a chance. Ye’ were damned lucky that no ill befell ye’ on the yer’ way to my home. Ye’ could have been set upon by evildoers. I’d guess the Guardians watched o’er ye’, but dunna’ doubt that t’was foolhardy and rash to tempt Fate in such a way. T’would be more unwise still to force Fate’s hand. Besides, if Uncle Drew would nay thrash ye’ fer’ yer’ deed, my da’ would and happily, too.”
“Uncle Ruiri would never strike me.”
“Dunna’ be so certain. He is a lot less patient than yer’ da. I would hate to provoke his ire to find out. T’is a long enough journey to ride and t’would nay do well to make it miserable from a thrashing.”
Jenna was horrified. She argued, “But I am nearly twenty-three. He would never….”
“Grown or nay, my da’ would relish turnin’ ye’ over his knee and paddling yer’ bum for such a trick. He was none too happy about yer’ journey to MacCollum unescorted and without yer’ parents’ consent. T’was only because ye’ were so upset that he did nay beg Grandad to pack ye’ up and send ye’ back to yer’ da’. Under full guard, I might add. Dunna’ think to limit his choices this time, Jen.”
“Are ye’ tellin’ me Uncle Ruiri has paddled ye’?”
“I’m just sayin’ that he has not always thought our antics have been so charming. I may have paid the price a time or two…or I may not have. But, I know when to not go too far. I’m smart enough to know his limits and ye’d be wise to learn them, as well.”
Not wanting to darken Jenna’s mood any further, Brigid brightened her tone and continued, “Besides, we are going to have enough of an adventure at the MacDougal Samhain fete. It promises to be quite the dig. Clans are coming from all over the Highlands…at least the ones that are still speaking to one another.” Brigid giggled. “Can ye’ nay try to have some fun at least. Truth be told, I’m hopin’ to steal a kiss or two after the fires are lit. There will be too many bonny lads to not sample.”
Jenna shook her head and smiled in spite of her sense of guilt which still weighed heavily upon her conscience. Brigid was such a loveable flirt. She should have been scandalized by Brigid’s claim, but Jenna was not. She was used to it. They often spent time talking about the male species and like Jenna, Brigid seemed to have no desire to get married, but she loved the attention and the sensual lure of clandestine stolen kisses.
Brigid often said she would remain unmarried but she confided to Jenna that she would discreetly always have a lover or two to make things interesting. Jenna thought Brigid was outrageous and brave and she admired her willful determination to live her life as she chose to live it. Jenna adored her cousin and she knew that whatever secrets they shared were safely kept. Even though Brigid was the younger of the two, Jenna admired her deeply. She again wished she could be like her, but as Jenna thought about the illicit dreams of her cousin living a life of unwedded bliss with the thrill of forbidden paramours, Jenna blushed deeply. She just wasn’t like Brigid at all for all her bravado, Jenna had a deep sense of honor and propriety. She guessed she got that from her parents. She decided it wasn’t a bad way to be, after all.
As the hours took them further into the day and the sun began to set, the autumn bite began to infuse her flesh. Jenna pulled her cloak tighter about her. They would make camp for the night, but the moon promised to be bright in the sky and the riding party could still gain some distance if they pressed on. Jenna actually looked forward to warming herself by a campfire. The combination of her dreadful thoughts and the onset of the cool night air sent chills of discomfort slithering into her bones. Jenna thought it would be good to settle in for the night.
Once they would arrive at the fete, pavilions would be set up and she and Brigid would share a tent that sported all the comforts of home, but tonight they would sleep wrapped in their plaids while the men took turns keeping watch. The skies held no trace of clouds drifting across the moon so they were in no danger of encountering nasty weather, still the sting of cold came upon them with a stealth Jenna had not anticipated.
She suddenly felt very weary; weary from her thoughts, weary from her travels; weary from running away from the Destiny that would eventually call her to task. She supposed she would try to make the best of things. Brigid was right. Jenna could not make the perilous trek back to her home now. She should not spoil things for her cousins and her aunt and uncle. She would have to face her consequences when she returned home and so for now she would try to enjoy her time at the Samhain celebration. Only, she was not so certain her father may indeed hide her when she returned. Jenna could not be certain of that at all.
~
Chapter Fourteen – Scotland – Present Day ~
Thomas Callum hefted his backpack over one should and he pulled his wheeled suitcase behind him. The tour bus had dropped him off at the Colgin train station and as he made his way down to the parking area, he scanned the place for his cousin, Kiera. It had been quite some time since he had last seen her, but he was certain he’d remember her. She was a true beauty, and he recalled how her dark burnished hair brushed her shoulders with fiery hints of auburn. He found himself looking for that gorgeous crown of hair as he peered down the ramp to where many cars were parked.
To his surprise, Tom did not spot Kiera at first. Instead, he spied a behemoth of a man with his arm casually draped around none other than his beautiful cousin. She was holding a little baby girl in her arms but upon seeing Tom, she waved vigorously while securing the toddler against her hip. He waved back and moved quickly down the ramp toward Kiera and her giant husband. Shit, I’ve always been considered tall but this guy…he’s like a human wall! Kiera was dwarfed by the man. He looked like someone from the pages of Conan the Barbarian. While he wore tight fitting jeans and a tee shirt under a leather jacket, Tom thought for a moment he had a flashed vision of some sort of medieval warrior. It was only a millisecond, but Tom felt the image of the man holding a sword, dressed in a kilt burned behind his eyes. What the hell was that? He must be road weary or something. Holy Crap, Tom whistled through his teeth. His cousin’s husband sure looked like a man to stay on the good side of. When he got down to where Kiera was waiting, Tom dropped his pack and luggage and he put his arms out for a hug. Kiera handed the baby to Derek and she sank into Tom’s embrace, hugging him back warmly. It was so good to see him!
“Well as I live and breathe, Tommy Callum, all grown up and a famous Celtic star to boot.”
“Hey, Kiera. Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes. I’ve been on that bus too long I think. I’m starting to see things…must be like a bus tour form of jet lag. And who is this big Highlander,” he asked good naturedly.
“Tommy, I’d like you to meet my husband Derek Campbell.”
“
I knew you had married a local boy, but sweet mother of Mercy…he is a big ‘un.” Then to Derek, he held out his hand in greeting and said, “A pleasure to meet you.”
Derek nodded but did not speak. He eyed the man before him, trying to gauge the type of person he was. Old habits were hard to break and Derek still assessed those he met to determine if they were friend or foe. He wasn’t sure about the man who had just come from the platform. There was something familiar about the man, but Derek could not place what that was. He reminded Derek of someone he knew…or at least someone he thought he had known, but that was probably impossible. All the people he had known before were long gone by now.
Tom saw Kiera elbow the big mountain of a man and he said, “Ouch woman. What are ye’ about?”
“This is my cousin, Tom. Cousin, Derek. He is my kin.”
Tom then thought he heard Kiera whisper, “Be nice.” Oh boy, this was going to be fun, wasn’t it?
Derek answered her in Gaelic, saying, “He eyed ye’ like a starving man eyes a trencher of food. Nay like kin would.” Tom understood every word.
Kiera smiled and mumbled, “Horse’s ass,” but her heart lifted a little just knowing he was still jealous and possessive of her. Another woman may have been annoyed with it, but Kiera could never be mad at Derek after all they had been through. Even so, she did not want him to embarrass himself in front of her cousin. Derek still walked amid the ruins of his past sometimes, but Tom could not possibly understand about that. Saints of God, if she had a year to explain it, it would still be unbelievable so Kiera decided it was better to leave it for now. Tom’s visit was going to be a short one. She wanted to act every bit the Lady Campbell she now had become and she wanted to make Tom’s visit as memorable as possible.
