Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3)

by Dawn Marie Hamilton

  He must still be in his own time and somewhere within the Highlands. Disappointment almost outweighed the alarm of having another’s sharp blade so near one’s throat. Though he was hardly defenseless. Multiple knives remained hidden on his person, as was a purse filled with jewels he could use as ransom if needed. He’d watch for an opening to extract a blade from his sleeve.

  Mayhap he worried for naught. Mayhap he and the man had allies in common.

  “Stephen MacEwen of Clan MacLachlan,” he said, having decided to expose himself. “And you are?”

  “Ah.” The man nodded. “You were once Patrick of Strathlachlan’s right hand. I should have guessed ’twas you stumbling through the laird’s forest.” The sword pricking Stephen’s flesh disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “You are among friends.”

  Did the man jest? “’Twas hard to tell.”

  That dark, shiver-inducing chuckle came again. Stephen accepted the man’s assistance to his feet and brushed decaying leaves from his trews and plaide. Lights burning in the near distance caught his attention, but still naught seemed familiar.

  The laird’s forest. Which laird?

  “Dinnae fash yourself, lad. You’re safe.” The stranger grasped Stephen’s forearm and offered a warrior’s greeting. “I am Douglas MacKinnon of Clan MacKinnon friend to the MacLachlan Clan hereabouts. Welcome to the twenty-first century and Anderson Creek.”

  Praise the Saints! Stephen swayed and braced his weight against a large tree trunk. He’d made it to Jillian’s future. And if this man kenned Patrick, he must also ken—

  “Where is Jillian?” The question burst from his lips.

  Startled by a loud, high-pitched sound—a horse’s whinny—Stephen slipped a blade from within his plaide and jerked his gaze to a nearby grove of pines.

  “Come out of hiding, princess.” Douglas fisted hands on hips and stared in the same direction. “The beast has given you away.”

  Several minutes passed before the faerie Jillian and he had traveled with stepped from the grove, lips curved in a frown, leading the magnificent white steed from the past. Thankfully, Stephen’s claymore remained attached to the saddle. He returned the palmed knife to its hidden sheath.

  Head held high, neck tense, and with its ears pricked forward, the horse pawed the earth. Ignoring the faerie, Douglas stepped in close and greeted the beast. Rubbed its neck. Ran a palm along the bridge of its nose. Whispered something into the animal’s ear. The horse tossed its head and nickered. Douglas removed the sword from the saddle and tossed it. Thanks to a warrior’s quick reflexes, Stephen caught its heft with two hands.

  “You won’t need your claymore for defense, but we have fun wielding our blades in mock fights and battles.” Douglas grinned.

  Stephen furrowed his brow, puzzling over the man’s words when he noticed the fae woman’s attempt to slip away.

  “Not so fast, Caitrina.” The other man grasped her upper arm, stopping her midstride. “You brought them here, you need to finish this.”

  “I plan to make things right.” She scowled at Douglas. “Tomorrow. After I take a hot shower and have a wee rest.”

  “Wait. Where is Jillian?” Stephen asked of the woman.

  “I imagine she’s with Laurie and Patrick. She usually goes to them when troubled.” Caitrina shrugged. “Why didn’t you explain to Jillian about Calyn and the handfasting? You’ve added a major complication to my labors.”

  “I am not sure of what you are referring to by labors, but I demand to be taken to Jillian.”

  “Demand?” she screeched. “How dare you?”

  Tension hummed. Douglas grasped both of her hands and held them together within the grip of one of his much larger hands. He murmured something near her ear as he had with the horse. Her shoulders relaxed. She nodded and, without acknowledging Stephen, led the steed away.

  He pivoted on his heel, ready to follow. “Wait—”

  “’Tis best to let her go. Safer for your manly parts.” Douglas gripped Stephen’s shoulder. “Come. I’ll take you to Patrick.”

  They walked over a mound not unlike the Sithichean Sluaigh in the Fir Wood, and Stephen shook off a chill. A short distance farther, they came upon a hinged metal gate within a high stone wall. Douglas eased the gate open and ducked beneath the curve of the archway.

  Stephen followed the man through, and another chill spread over his spine. His fingers trembled. He glanced around. Looked over a shoulder, but saw naught out of place. He inhaled a deep breath. There had been too much fae activity of late.

  Continuing forward, they strode through a waning garden, larger than that of Castle Lachlan. Small lanterns dangled from what appeared to be short shepherd’s hooks, lending golden illumination to a path leading to a massive wood structure with many brightly lit windows. He imagined ’twas the source of the lights seen earlier from the wood.

  Douglas stopped afore the structure at a green wooden door. “Be prepared to see many new things—modern marvels—in Patrick’s house.”

  Excitement welled. He nodded and followed Douglas through the doorway into a small chamber as bright as outside on a sunny day. The sunshine came from a fixture on the ceiling that when looked directly upon blinded. Bairn-sized garments hung from hooks on one wall; wee shoes and boots in a line beneath. Shelves with unusual containers hung on the opposite wall over two large chests made of white metal. Were the chests marvels?

  I must learn much to live in Jillian’s world.

  They continued through another doorway into a larger chamber lit in a similar fashion to the first. Many cupboards and multiple-sized silver chests circled the chamber. At least, the cupboards were somewhat familiar.

  Douglas squeezed Stephen’s shoulder. “Dinnae worry, you’ll be living like a modern man soon enough.”

  Stephen stood straighter. Jillian had said he looked like a modern man when she cut his hair. Perhaps he might adapt to this future place with time.

  “I see you found our wayward man.” Patrick strolled into the chamber through yet another doorway, wearing curious garments, a smirk upon his lips. Chestnut hair pulled back in a queue, his cousin looked much the same as when last seen, though lines had appeared around his eyes. The smirk broadened into a smile of greeting. “Welcome to my home.”

  Stephen’s eyes misted. How long had it been? Numb with joy, he stumbled into the manly embrace of his cousin. Subsequent backslapping ensued.

  “I have missed you.” Moisture pooled in Patrick’s sapphire eyes, too.

  “There was nae purpose to my life after you left,” Stephen said, a hitch in his voice. “I tried to follow you through the Sithichean Sluaigh more times than you can imagine, but the damn faeries ignored my desires and refused to let me pass.”

  “You are here now. And glad I am to see you.”

  “’Tis because of Jillian.”

  “Perhaps you should share the tale. She is of a mind you have done her wrong.”

  “On that note, I will leave you to your conversation. I have a wench of my own who needs attention.” Douglas took his leave, departing the way they had entered.

  “Where is Jillian?” Stephen asked, hoping she was within another chamber.

  “Come. We will sit by the fire in my study and talk.” Patrick showed him to another well-appointed chamber similar to the study at Castle Lachlan yet different.

  Stephen collapsed into a chair afore the hearth where a small fire burned, amazed by the softness of the blue velvet cushions. He glanced about the chamber. Jillian was right. This time had wondrous comforts.

  “I imagine you could use a whisky.” Patrick opened an ornately carved cupboard and withdrew a multifaceted glass flagon. After pouring the amber liquid into two matching glasses, he handed one to Stephen and sank into an adjacent chair. He lifted his glass in toast. “Slàinte mhór.”

  “Good health to you.” Stephen raised his glass then sipped the whisky, savoring the slow burn down his throat and into his gut. At his cousin’s raised brow
, he said by way of explanation, “I want to learn to speak in your future way.”

  “So you plan to stay. What of the woman you left with child in the past?”

  Stephen stiffened. “Jillian told you. Where is she? I must speak with her. Explain why…” He stalled. How would he defend the flawed decisions he’d made?

  “I imagine you should explain much and beg forgiveness. Howbeit, not tonight.” Patrick leaned back in his chair. “Laurie has taken the lass to my parent’s inn for some private girl time. You can speak with Jillian after you break your fast on the morrow. Now tell me what has transpired in Scotland past since Archie’s last visit with us. Be sure to include all of your endeavors and what you plan to do about the lass with child.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Steam and the pulse of the spray against her bare skin allowed Jillian to relax. But then her mind did a wandering walk into territory she’d rather avoid. Time travel. Had she really traveled to the past? Stephen. Had she truly fallen in love with a most inappropriate man? Again?

  The image stuck to her retinas of the pregnant woman at the faerie hill in the past made Jillian curl into herself both physically and mentally. No! She shut off the flow of water.

  She wouldn’t dwell on Stephen’s betrayal.

  Jillian stepped out of the glass and tile shower enclosure and huddled within a plush bath sheet. Ah. Twenty-first century luxury. While time trotting, she’d missed all the comforts taken for granted much of her life. What a fool she’d been thinking she could stay in the past with Stephen.

  Stop it! Stop it right now! No more thinking about him and the plans she’d made in her head.

  “Dammit to hell!” What about poor Keita and Duff? She’d promised to take care of them.

  “Are you alright in there?” Laurie called from the bedroom.

  “Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Jillian inhaled a deep breath, returned the towel to the rack, and stepped into silky black jammy pants then pulled on a lavender cami. Topping the sleepwear with a gray fleece robe, she braced to face her friend and business partner before walking through the doorway into the bedroom.

  Laurie sat on Jillian’s bed, leaning against the cushioned headboard, with a remote in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. “What do you want to watch?”

  “Something mindless.” It didn’t matter what they watched. This was going to be the first of many long nights. She’d been through this before when she’d obsessed over wanting a relationship with Finn that never materialized. Jillian sighed and eyed the three additional bottles of wheat beer chilling in an ice bucket and the bag of double-stuffed chocolate cookies on the bedside table next to Laurie.

  “They’re your favorite. Right?” Laurie was trying hard to make her feel better. She truly was a good friend.

  “Absolutely.” Jillian smiled despite inner turmoil.

  She grabbed a beer from the bucket, twisted off the cap, and dropped it into the waste basket. Then she climbed onto the bed and collapsed against the headboard, next to her best friend in the whole world.

  “Oh, look. This retro station is playing I Love Lucy reruns without commercials. I love the one where Lucy is working in a candy factory.” Laurie dropped the remote between them, scooted around, and raised her bottle in toast. “Friendship.”

  They tapped bottles, drank, and turned attention to the large TV screen on the wall across the room. Well, at least Laurie did. Jillian’s mind stayed stuck in the past with Stephen and the children she’d left behind. When the first episode ended, she picked up the remote and muted the sound, needing to talk.

  “I met Isobell and Archibald,” she blurted.

  “How are they?”

  “Good. They’re fine. However, I didn’t have a chance to meet their newborn son before the sheriff came to arrest me for witchcraft and we had to run. We escaped through the hidden passageway to the beach and…” Jillian swallowed uneasily with the memory. “Anyhow, I understand the child is healthy and quite doted upon.”

  “Running from the sheriff must have been harrowing.”

  “And some.” A new serge of anxiety threatened to surface. Jillian forced it down and waved a hand in dismissal.

  “I’m glad to hear Isobell and Archie are doing well.” Laurie smiled then grew serious. “With the rules about the time gate, we can’t go back to see them and meet our new nephew.”

  “Why not? What rules?”

  “Iain believes—” The cell phone buzzed on the nightstand and Laurie answered. “Hey, sweetie. He is? Okay. Yeah. I’ll stay at the inn for the night. See you in the morning. Love you. Bye.”

  “What? What is it?” Jillian asked.

  “It’s nothing.” Laurie’s gaze shifted around the room settling on the duvet beneath them. She twisted the blue fabric between two fingers.”

  “Don’t pretend nothing is wrong. What is going on?”

  “Stephen is here. Or I should say, he is at my house.”

  “He made it through the time gate?”

  “Seems so.”

  Jillian tensed, heat flashing her chest and face, emotions tripping through all the stages from happy excitement to anger. “I don’t want to see him. Ever.”

  “Iain has called a clan meeting for tomorrow morning after breakfast to discuss what happened to you and what occurred while you were in the past.”

  “I can’t. I can’t face your family.” I can’t face Stephen.

  “You know you are a member of this family—”

  “If I were, you would have shared the facts about…” Jillian’s voice faded to nothing. She couldn’t deal with airing her dirty laundry in front of everyone. Iain and Mairi. Finn and Elspeth would probably be there. Caitrina. She glared at Laurie. “Why did you never see fit to tell me about the time travel? About Caitrina? I feel so betrayed. By everyone.”

  “Oh, hon.” Laurie squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. It just didn’t seem right to burden you with all the…magic. Sometimes it is best not to know what lurks in the dark. Or what skulks in the daylight.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. I would have freaked. Still…I can’t face Stephen.”

  * * *

  Stephen sat in a very comfortable chair—upholstered someone claimed—in Iain’s study at the Whispering Pines Bed and Breakfast, waiting for the chief to arrive. To think the once mighty chief of Clan MacLachlan had become an innkeeper and was happy about his circumstance. Stephen shook his head. Things were much different in this future place. While all sorts of such perplexing thoughts filtered through his mind, he kept a steady gaze on Jillian who perched on a similar chair across the small chamber, refusing to offer even a mere glance his way.

  After what seemed like the longest time, Iain arrived dressed in the blue trews Patrick called jeans and a strange leine with buttons down the front. He crossed the chamber, stopping in front of Jillian. A gentle touch to her cheek brought a tentative smile to her face. Stephen felt that touch at his fingertips and his stomach clenched. He wanted to be the one offering comfort.

  Iain took his place behind the heavy wood desk. His wife, Mairi, sat to his left with Patrick to his right. Laurie sat with Jillian, their hands clasped. Also in attendance were Iain’s daughter Elspeth and her husband Finn MacIntyre, the fae Caitrina, and Douglas MacKinnon, the man who found Stephen in the wood.

  “I’m sure everyone is aware why we gather this morning. Before we get into the whos and whys, I wish to provide a warning to Jillian. As I cautioned Stephen last night, before either of you make rash decisions be aware the faerie knoll is unpredictable just like the fae, and ’tis my understanding a soul may travel through the portal only once in each direction. If an additional attempt is made, no one kens where a body will travel.” After a nod to Jillian and Stephen, Iain turned an intense gaze on Caitrina. “Now, lass. Tell me true. Is the Queen of the Fae responsible for Jillian’s fall into that well of time on the bike trail in West Virginia?”

  Douglas
MacKinnon flinched, but remained silent.

  Caitrina pursed thinned lips. “Nae.”

  “Then who?” Iain asked.

  “’Twas me,” Caitrina said without remorse.

  “But why?” Stephen and Jillian asked at the same time.

  Jillian’s sad gaze fell on Stephen for a moment before she ripped it away.

  “Go ahead. Tell them, Caitrina,” Douglas said.

  “Their mating is the last of three matches I’m required to orchestrate as required by the Fae Queen in order to win my freedom.”

  Jillian glanced at the unsurprised faces in the chamber then jumped from her chair and stood before the faerie. “What are you talking about?”

  Stephen rose, stood behind Jillian, and placed a hand on her shoulder in an offer of support. When she didn’t flinch or pull away, he breathed more easily.

  “You and Stephen must mate in order for a curse placed on me by the Queen of the Fae to be lifted.”

  “I don’t understand.” Jillian’s voice trembled.

  “It’s simple,” Finn said. “Laurie and Patrick were the first. Me and Elspeth the second. We’ve wondered for quite a while who would be the third couple.”

  “We thought it might be you, Jillian, when you disappeared,” Laurie said. “We weren’t sure, though, because Finn and I traveled back in time through the garden gate and you went missing in West Virginia.”

  “You used us as some sort of pawns in a game, Caitrina?” The faerie shrugged and Jillian stiffened. “I thought you were my friend. How dare you meddle in my life.”

  “You will be glad of my interference when the game is ended.”

  Jillian spun around. “Did you know about this, Stephen?”

  He held both of her shoulders and looked into her innocent brown eyes. Everyone else in the chamber faded away. ’Twas only he and the woman he loved. The woman from which he needed to beg forgiveness.

  “Nae,” Stephen swore. “I only kenned you were a comely lass in need of aid. I meant to only help you find your way home, but in the doing I fell in love with you.”