by Emma Prince
As the others remounted and called their farewells to the old man, Callum approached her where she sat in the shade.
“That was our last stop before the castle,” he said, extending a hand to help her rise. His palms were warm, his fingers callused and strong around hers. His grip loosened, but he didn’t release her hand even once she was standing. “I hope ye’ve enjoyed the excursion.”
“I truly have,” she murmured. “This land…and your people…”
She let a breath go, unsure how to put into words all the feelings swirling inside her. Respect. Wonder. Longing…
He flashed her a rare, proud smile, then guided her back to his waiting horse. “Ye arenae the first to be left speechless by this place.”
Once he’d mounted, he lifted her into his lap. The position was beginning to feel wonderfully familiar.
With a whistle to his men, they set off at a brisk pace, riding into the sloping afternoon sun. Caroline drank in her surroundings as if she’d just walked across a desert. She’d been moved by Scotland’s beauty on her trip with her sisters, yet it was not only this place, but this time that reverberated like a struck tuning fork within her.
As far as her gaze would reach, Caroline could see no highways, no buildings, no cars—nothing but sprawling green wilderness all around. Birds flitted low over the grassy hillsides, swirling up into the clean, pure air and darting off toward the trees in the distance. The drone of cars and the muted rumble of airplanes were gone. No noise except for the hoof-falls of their horses and the occasional snort or creak of leather filled her ears.
Callum must have noticed her intense interest in everything around them, for he leaned forward and murmured in her ear as they rode.
“Ye see those peaks?” He pointed toward a cluster of three mountains far off to the north.
At her nod, he continued. “It is said that two men from warring clans fought over one woman there. When she couldnae take their squabbling anymore, she turned them both to stone, but she accidentally made herself into a mountain as well, freezing them all together for eternity.”
She gazed at the mountains. The one in the middle was smaller than the two flanking it, and if she squinted, she could imagine each of the taller peaks trying to tug the middle peak away.
At her soft chuckle, he shifted his arm to point at a ribbon of water that meandered between the hills to their left. As he spun a tale about mystical horse spirits who were said to guard the river, she leaned back against his chest, letting his deep, rich brogue wash over her.
Something seized in her heart as she listened to Callum and stared in wonder at her surroundings. Her parents had always meant to visit Scotland someday. When someday had never come and the car crash stole them away, Caroline and her sisters had made a pact to come here to experience what their parents never had.
The dull, familiar ache—for her parents, and now for her sisters as well—began beating in her chest like a painful pulse, and her eyes pricked with tears. Though she and Hannah and Allie had sought to absorb all they could on this trip as a way of honoring their parents, it felt wrong to be so taken with this place now, after they’d all been torn apart.
As if she were betraying not only her parents, but also her sisters.
In the deepest corner of her heart, Caroline knew—some small part of her wanted to stay here. She was falling for this place, this time—this man.
What kind of selfish, awful sister did that make her? For all she knew, Allie and Hannah had surfaced in the pool below Leannan Falls only to discover that she had vanished. Knowing her oldest sister, Hannah would have likely called every authority demanding a full investigation, and Allie would make herself sick with worry and grief.
Now that their parents were gone, they only had each other. And here Caroline was, letting herself be enchanted by the beauty of the Highlands, the unexpected, simple pleasures of this era, and a Highland Laird who was equal parts rugged stone and warm man.
Things were almost too good here. But she couldn’t let herself be distracted from her goal—to get back to Leannan Falls, and hopefully the present. Even if some selfish part of her wanted to stay, she couldn’t give in to it.
But another creeping fear rose in her mind. What if she could never get back? What if her tumble through time had been a one-way trip? Could she ever be happy here, knowing that she’d never see her sisters again?
Her stomach twisted at the thought. But she wasn’t sure which terrified her more—never being able to go home again, or how much she found herself wanting to stay.
Belatedly, she realized she’d gone stiff against Callum, her hands balling so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white.
She glanced up to find him watching her, his amber eyes clouded with concern.
“Where did ye go just now?”
She shook her head, trying to clear the storm of confusing emotions from her mind, but her throat was tight when she spoke. “I don’t know. I got lost, I guess.”
Callum’s gaze softened. “I want to show ye something.” He lifted his voice to the others. “I’m taking Caroline to the stones. The rest of ye return to Kinmuir. We’ll be back before the evening meal.”
The men shot surprised looks at each other. “Are ye sure, Laird?” Bron asked, his brows raised and one side of his mouth beginning to curve up. “Ye already ken the wee lass is a slippery one. If the two of ye are alone, ye might have to hold her close to keep her from escaping again.”
Callum pinned him with a withering look. “Shut yer flap unless ye’d like me to shut it for ye, Bron. We will see ye back at the castle.”
“Aye, Laird,” Bron said deferentially, but a grin still played at the corner of his lips. With a whistle, Bron set the others into a trot, headed toward the castle.
As the rumble of their hooves faded, Callum’s thighs stiffened beneath her.
“Hold on, lass,” he murmured in her ear.
When she looped her arms around his torso, he dug in his heels, and they took off at a gallop.
Chapter Twelve
Callum should never have taken Caroline out of the castle.
Mayhap he shouldn’t have even scooped her up beside Loch Darraig in the first place.
And he sure as hell shouldn’t be taking her to the standing stones in the woods south of Kinmuir Castle.
His life would be a hell of a lot simpler if he hadn’t done any of those things.
But it was too late.
From the moment he’d first laid eyes on Caroline, Callum had felt an inexplicable pull toward her. Aye, at first he’d only thought to use her to bargain for peace with the MacBeans, but after that had proven a failure, he’d allowed himself to grow curious about her.
He’d let that curiosity bud into something more—interest, followed by respect and protectiveness. And desire.
Still, he’d been safe until that morning, when he’d seen the way her face lit up at the prospect of venturing outside Kinmuir’s walls. It had hit him like a blow to realize that he could give her happiness—wanted to give her happiness, more than he wanted to abide by his rules and principles.
And now that her thrilled laugh filled his ears, her arms wrapped tight around him as they tore across the open moors, there was no going back. He wanted her.
It was madness to be alone with her now. He’d spent the entire day watching her surreptitiously. And not because she’d given him reason to believe she might attempt to escape—she hadn’t. Nay, he simply couldn’t stop himself.
As she drank in their surroundings, he felt as though he were seeing the world for the first time through her eyes. Her wonder, her awe, her reverence for this land that had forged him, made his heart swell with pride against his ribs.
But more than that, she captivated him. Her enthusiasm was infectious, turning what could have been a grueling day-long chore into a grand adventure. The scent of her, all wildflowers and sun-warmed earth, drifted around him like a delicate embrace as they’d ridden, making hi
s head spin.
And he’d nigh fallen from Auld Rabbie MacMoran’s roof at least twice because he couldn’t stop stealing glances at her. The sun and wind had touched her cheeks, leaving them rosy. Wild wisps of chestnut hair had flown from her braid to frame her delicate features. Aye, the magnificence of his lands paled in comparison to her intoxicating beauty.
With his blood running hot and his senses overwhelmed by Caroline’s nearness, it wasn’t wise to take her to the stones. But to hell with wise. Every decision he’d made since becoming Laird had been for the betterment of his people. Just this once, he wanted to be selfish—he wanted more of her.
Nay, he wasn’t so far gone that he would throw away everything he and his clan had fought for. He couldn’t touch her. But at least he could have her to himself for a few blessed moments.
As they rode into the cool, quiet forest, Callum slowed his horse. Caroline lifted her head but didn’t loosen her hold around his middle.
“What are these stones you’re taking me to?” she asked, her breaths still short from their exhilarating ride.
“Ye’ll see.” He guided the horse deeper through the trees until they reached a gurgling stream. He followed it south, winding along the forest floor.
When the trees thinned slightly, he knew they were there. Reining the animal to a halt, he swung out of the saddle and lifted Caroline down after him. He let the horse amble to the stream for a drink and took Caroline’s hand, pulling her toward the little clearing.
She halted abruptly when they reached the outer ring of stones.
“What…what is this?”
He watched her, trying to imagine what this place must look like through her eyes. The pines and oaks cleared around a circle of upright stones that stood well over Callum’s head. Inside the first ring was a second circle of stones, these ones offset and slightly shorter.
A few of the stones listed, and two had even toppled over. Most had cracks and were covered with moss. Callum had studied them closely enough to know that some had the faint traces of etchings and carved markings on them, though the elements had smoothed them to illegibility.
“They are standing stones,” he said, stepping closer and running a hand along one of the slabs. “Long before this land was Christian, people followed the old ways.”
“My sisters and I saw something like this on our trip,” Caroline murmured, staring wide-eyed. “Though six more centuries of wear and tear made them a bit more rubble-like than these ones.”
“I like to come here when I need to think.” He extended his hand to her. “Come.”
“Oh no,” she said with a shake of her head. “Leannan Falls was enough for me. The last thing I need is to step into some mystical stone circle and fall even further back through time.”
Though he still didn’t put much faith in the mad notion that what she said about being from the future was true, he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’ve been here dozens of times, and I’ve never opened any strange portals or traveled to another era.”
She eyed his hand warily, but after a long moment, she took it, grudgingly letting him lead her into the center of the ring.
Their fingers intertwining, they stepped into the middle of the stones and stood side by side, motionless. Callum could feel Caroline’s heartbeat where her wrist touched his. Of its own accord, his pulse, steady and strong, slowly came to match hers. Their breaths lengthened and deepened in rhythm together.
The noises from the forest—the soft rustle of leaves and pine needles, the occasional chirp of a bird, the bubbling of the stream that ran along one side of the stone circle—seemed to grow distant. It felt as though all that was left of the entire world was the two of them and the stones.
When he glanced at her several minutes later, he found her eyes wide and her lips parted with wonder.
“Ye see? Ye’re still in one piece and we havenae fallen through time—at least I dinnae think we have,” he said with a teasing grin, breaking the delicate spell hanging around them. He guided her out of the circle and into the shade of the trees where the stream came closest to the stones.
“Have some water if ye like. I’ll fetch us something to eat.”
Caroline moved to the stream and cupped her hands in the clear water while Callum went to his horse. He dug out a length of plaid from one saddlebag and a canvas-wrapped bundle of food in the other. Giving silent thanks for the fact that Tilly wouldn’t let any MacMoran leave the castle without packing at least two days’ worth of food along with them, Callum carried the plaid and bundle back toward Caroline.
He arranged the plaid on the forest floor between the stream and the edge of the stones, under the shade of the spreading boughs overhead so that Caroline’s delicate skin didn’t get any pinker.
When she straightened from the stream, she blinked in surprise at the array of food he’d laid out. Tilly had packed fresh bread, a wedge of white cheese, dried venison, golden pears, and even a wine skin. Callum wondered for a fleeting moment if Tilly had somehow suspected that he might take Caroline away for a private meal, but he set the thought aside as Caroline joined him on the plaid.
As they ate in amiable silence, Caroline’s eyes drifted to the stones, her gaze growing distant, as it had just before he’d sent the others back to the castle.
“As I said, I always find that this place helps me think,” he commented. “Ye seem to carry a great burden on yer mind. Mayhap speaking of it will help.”
She let out a long breath. “I am thinking of my sisters again—and how to get back to my own time.”
Callum considered that. He was no healer, so he couldn’t be sure if Caroline had suffered a blow to the head or something else entirely, but in the time he’d known her, she’d never once deviated from her story about being from a different time. Nor had her comments about her sisters or her desire to return to Leannan Falls in hopes of finding them ever changed.
Mayhap it wasn’t what a healer would recommend, but he decided to go along with what she said without question.
“Ye must love them verra much.”
She fixed him with a surprised look. “I do.”
“Might it ease yer mind to tell me of them?”
A soft smile came to her lips. “Maybe. I suppose it’s worth a try.”
She crossed her legs beneath her skirts, her eyes growing warm. “Allison—we call her Allie—is twenty-six. Two years older than me. She’s a nurse—a healer, you’d call her. Allie is sweet and kind and loving. Someday she’s going to make a great mother, if she could only find the right guy. And Hannah is twenty-eight. She went to a fancy school and became an event planner, a real high-powered CEO-type, which is perfect because she’s kind of bossy and overachieving.”
Callum let her words pour over him. Though he didn’t understand a fair bit of what she was talking about, he could get the thrust of it by watching her eyes and hands, listening to the rise and fall of her voice.
She told tales of squabbles and occasional competition, of fighting over next to naught, only to come to each other’s defense when one struggled with a man’s betrayal or a setback in their work or studies. Callum listened, smiling to remember all the times he’d tormented his own sister, only to find that now he would kill anyone who thought to harm her.
“…convince our parents to let us get a pet,” Caroline went on. “Hannah and I both wanted a cat, but Allie had always wanted a dog. Well, our parents said that until all three of us came to an agreement, there would be no pet.”
She shook her head with a grin. “Hannah and I teamed up against Allie, figuring we could bully her into going along with us, given how agreeable she always was. We promised to give her naming rights to any kitten we picked out. And to our surprise, sweet, amenable Allie named the damn cat Kitty just to spite us!”
Callum chuckled. “But yer parents’ ploy worked, didnae it? They forced ye to sort it out amongst yerselves.”
Caroline’s mirth faded and her fingers began fiddling w
ith a few folds of her skirts. “Yes. They were always good about that—keeping us all together, I mean. But like all kids do, we grew up and grew apart somewhat. Allie and I both stayed close to Mayport Bay—our town—but Hannah left for school and never moved back. It took…”
She swallowed hard, but when she continued, her voice was still tight with emotion. “It took our parents’ death to really bring us back together. We promised ourselves never to let distance or distractions separate us again. That’s what this trip was supposed to be, anyway.”
“Yer trip to Scotland, ye mean?” He still didn’t know where this land called “America” was, and he’d never heard of Mayport Bay, but Caroline certainly wasn’t Scottish.
“Yeah. My parents always talked about traveling here someday. They meant to honeymoon here, or visit on their ten-year wedding anniversary, but it just never seemed to pan out. So after they died, my sisters and I promised to make the trip happen—for them. It’s been a year since they passed. Hannah still hasn’t moved home, and Allie works a lot—it’s better now that she works in a dermatologist’s office rather than a hospital, but she’s still busy. But we finally stopped putting it off. We wanted to see all the things that Mom and Dad never did, but also spend time together. Make memories. Have adventures.”
At that, she gave a rueful snort. “And one hell of an adventure it’s turned out to be.” She waved vaguely at him, the standing stones, and the horse tethered nearby.
“At least ye’ll have a great deal to talk about when ye find them again.”
“If,” she corrected. “If I find them again.” And just like that, the cloud of sadness and worry that had lifted briefly as she’d talked settled around her once more. “There’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to go back through the falls. And even if I do, what if Hannah and Allie aren’t there when I get back?”
He frowned. What did one say to comfort a woman who believed she’d lost her sisters while journeying through time?
