by Diane Darcy
“Quiet, Witch.” Malcolm bellowed. “Else I’ll burn you wi’ my powerful Laser of Doom.”
She laughed harder, almost choking as her mirth took on a hysterical edge, making Ian want to smile.
Malcolm lifted the laser and pointed it at Samantha, who shrieked—but with merriment if Ian was any judge. “No, Mad Malcolm, stop! Please don’t kill me with the Laser of Doom! Have mercy. I beg you.”
Ian started to relax as Malcolm chuckled, moving the light about her person while she screamed with glee. He knew his woman, and knew she wasn’t in any pain. He did not understand what was happening here, but knew that when he released her, she’d explain. He started toward Malcolm, who turned the laser onto Ian. It did naught more than a sunbeam, but Ian took his cue from his future bride. “Nae, I beg you, dinna do such!”
“Yield.”
Ian advanced as if the difficulty were great. “Oh, the pain of it! Cease, I beg of you.” Within seconds, Ian was upon him, and a hard fist to Malcolm’s face and the man toppled to the ground to land on his back.
Ian wrested the piece of silver from Malcolm’s hand and stared at the small bit of metal before turning to Samantha.
Willie marched toward her with a torch.
“Ian, stop him!”
Ian lifted the laser but it refused to do his bidding. He shook it as he started to sprint, but the old man was too far away, too quick, and there were too many people between them. “Stop him!”
Dugald tackled Willie to the ground and the torch fell. Willie half landed on it and screamed as it burned his face, his hands, as he tried to shove it away while bucking the man off his back. After one last ear-piercing shriek, he grasped the lit end of the torch before finally shoving it away.
Willie looked at his hands in horror. He touched his face and screamed. “It hurts! It hurts!” He stumbled toward the nearby creek, launching himself into it, his screams fading to soft cries.
Ian quickly cut away Samantha’s bindings with his dagger. As soon as she was free, she threw herself at him and he held her close, his eyes closing in relief as he felt her warm and safe in his arms.
Samantha wiggled against him. “Please, just get me out of this woodpile.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Let’s go.” On solid ground once more, Ian hugged Samantha tight to his side. He needed to get her away from there. The crowd could turn on them at any moment, and, while most were unarmed, the MacGregor clan was severely outnumbered.
They walked past Malcolm, who was still out cold, and wished he could have truly fought the man so he could end him for his actions this day.
When two Campbells shuffled toward them, Ian lifted the laser. “Do you wish to tell me how to work this entity?” he whispered.
“Hold it in your fist and push the button on the top.”
The red beam appeared and Ian cleared a path as Campbells backed away.
Another man, battered and bruised, hurried toward them, walking right into the laser. Ian quickly jerked the beam away, not wanting the others to realize it had little effect. He was just about to place himself between the two of them, when Samantha held out her hand.
“Come on, Jerry.”
The man grasped her hand. Ian wanted to break the hold, but settled for leading them to his mount and instructing Brecken to take the man with him.
Ian mounted, hauled Samantha up behind him, and, when she wrapped her arms around him, he finally let himself breathe freely. He gripped her hands where they encircled him. “Thank you for staying alive long enough for me to find you.” He lifted one of her hands and kissed it.
The Laser of Doom had thrown him. Made him question whether she could actually be from the future. But even if everything she’d told him was true, he was keeping her anyway. He would hit her on her weakest flank and make her wish to stay with him. She loved history? Well, from her perspective, no one was more historical than him. She loved to puzzle out the past? He could keep her guessing. Indeed, he would make it his life’s work.
“Wait!” Willie’s voice rang out and Ian turned to see the man stumbling after them. “Wait for me!”
Mad Malcolm stirred and Ian urged his horse forward, leaving Willie to his fate. “Let’s get out of here before they realize they’ve been tricked.”
~~~
They rode home as fast as they could, considering they had to let the horses rest often. Everyone was well aware Laird Campbell had access to fresh mounts, so they stayed on guard and continued forward, taking short walking breaks to ease their animals.
Samantha lay against his back, exhausted, and he admitted to himself that he loved the feel of her against him, loved that she leaned into his strength.
Hours later, they arrived at the village, a bedraggled, yet triumphant group. It was a relief to reach the village—but also a surprise. Everyone wished them to stop. Some of the young couples, previously only handfasted, were getting married and everyone was in a celebratory mood and cheered when they rode in. The men wanted the story, wished to hear of the rescue, and Father William came forward, beaming as he said he’d every faith Ian would return with Samantha. A cheer went up as the men shouted that none could stand against The MacGregor.
“Come,” Father William implored with a wave of his arm. “Come and join in the celebration.”
Ian hesitated, but Samantha urged him. “Let’s do.”
“Why not?” Ian was in the mood to indulge her. “Anyway, the horses are walking sore. It’ll be good to cool their legs in the stream.” He helped Samantha down and watched as she joined in the celebration, clapping along with the villagers as the newlyweds danced in the center square. He smiled at her enthusiasm and walked his horse to the stream and called a boy over to hold the reins.
He took his bag off the horse, not about to let it out of his sight, and headed for the memorial to lean back and watch the festivities, to feel part of his clan. Samantha glanced back at him and smiled. She was loving this, and he loved her.
He loved her.
Happiness hit him.
She was alive. He was in love with her, and dared to hope she might be too. They were both smiling and happy. Everyone in his clan was safe.
It was a good day.
Tonight he would ask her to stay with him forever. Ask her to marry him. Hopefully this celebration would get her in the right mood, and ease his way. If he watched closely, he might even pick up a few pointers on the way it was to be done.
~~~
Samantha picked out a couple of pastries and made her way toward Ian, who still leaned against his mother’s monument a short while later.
He smiled at her and she couldn’t take her eyes off him, couldn’t help but smile back, giddy pleasure and happiness flooding through her. She wasn’t sure what his expression communicated, she just knew she liked the way he looked at her. Like a man in love?
Suddenly breathless, she wove through the revelers, every glimpse of his face making her happy and strangely content. It was time for them to have a long talk. She was pretty sure she couldn’t do without him and had begun formulating a plan so she could have it all.
What if she went home with Jerry, saw her grandfather, and came back again? Gillian had done it, so why couldn’t she? Or maybe she could somehow take Ian with them if he would go? After all, if the crown would take two of them, why not three? One thing was becoming very clear, and that was the fact she just couldn’t live without him. She had no desire to. If that meant living here in the past then perhaps she’d have to find a way to make it work. She needed to check on her grandfather, and she didn’t want to give up her career, but—
Ian arched, his eyes widened, and his gaze locked with hers.
He reached toward her—then slumped against the monument, and Samantha pushed past a couple of revelers before she finally saw it.
An arrow plunged into his back, and protruded through his stomach. Blood poured from the wound.
“Ian!” Dropping the pastries, she sprinted
to him. “Ian.” She screamed his name again.
The crowd started to quiet, and then another woman screeched, and men started to run.
When she reached him, she threw herself to the ground, grabbed his shoulders, and looked at the arrow protruding from his stomach with a feeling of disbelief. “Oh, Ian.” She looked around and saw Mad Malcolm at the tree line, bow in hand, a big smile on his face.
She darted forward to block Ian from the madman. “Ian.”
He was looking at the arrow, panting, his face pale. He was going into shock. Bleeding. He was on one knee and he tried to stand, but didn’t make it. He reached down to grasp the arrow sticking out of his stomach, and lifted his trembling hand, now covered in his blood to stare at it in disbelief.
Fear, horror, and disbelief stiffened every muscle in her body as she saw the blood dripping down the arrow and onto the ground.
Their eyes met.
“I...I...” Ian struggled to speak. “I suppose today was my death day, after all.” His breath came in gasps.
“Oh, Ian, no, love.” Samantha’s hands were on his arm, she didn’t dare touch him or pull him close the way she wanted to. “Hold on. Don’t die on me. You’ve got to hold on.” She bent her head to get a closer look at the arrow penetrating the chainmail. In this century, it was a mortal wound. It might even be in hers.
She looked over her shoulder to see Malcolm still at the tree line. Campbells had joined him as MacGregors scrambled for weapons. “Stay with me.” Samantha looked into his eyes, cupped his cheek and willed him to stay alive. “I’m going to need that crown, love.” She estimated how long it would take her to get to his hiding place and back. “And you’re going to have to hold on while I get it. Do you understand? I’m going to go and get the crown and you’re going home with me. Now, where is it?”
~~~
Samantha watched as Ian weakened and fell to both knees, his side pressing against the monument. He reached up to cup her cheek. “I love you, lass. You’ve been a surprise to me. A gift. I’d wished to marry you.” He panted. “Planned to ask you this day. You go home. You take the crown and go. I’ve coins as well.” Grimacing he dug in his tunic and revealed a plump bag tied to his belt. “Take them.”
“Save your strength. Don’t move. Where is the crown? You have to tell me where it is.”
He shakily pointed to the saddle bag against the monument. “The crown is here. Wi’ me. Now go. You might not survive long without my protection. Return to your grandfather. Show people the crown.” He smiled. “Get all the credit and the glory wi’ my blessing.”
Hope widened her eyes and made her heart stutter. She looked at the saddle bag and back to him again. “You have the crown here? With you?”
Ian gripped the arrow. “Was going to use it to ransom you. Had to get you back. Can’t,” he gasped, and her heart clutched, “live without you.”
She kissed his forehead. “Oh, you lovely, lovely man.” She left him long enough to retrieve the bag, and she pulled out the linen-covered package and unwrapped it.
Gold, jewels, and gems shone brilliant in the last of the sunlight. The crown. Here. At the monument. Like fate had given them this chance.
“Know I love you. Now go.”
She smiled, filled with a conviction this would work. Fate wouldn’t align all this only to snatch him in death, right? “I love you, too, you impossible man. And you can forget about me leaving you behind. I told you, I’m taking you with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Samantha reached for Ian’s hand.
“Weel, weel, what have we here?”
She glanced up to see Malcolm, smiling and awful, and just beyond him, Jerry, sick with fear.
“Jerry, help me.”
Fright evident on his face, Jerry yelled, terror and determination in his voice, and launched himself at Malcolm. He grabbed both his arms and held them from behind.
Malcolm jerked his body back and forth as he tried to fight Jerry off and Samantha knew she didn’t have much time. She quickly plucked Ian’s dagger from its sheath and cut her finger with it.
Jerry strained to hold Malcolm as she lifted Ian’s bloody hand. “Samantha, don’t leave me.”
“I won’t. Jerry, you’re going to have to grab the crown and make sure you cut your fingers on it like last time, remember? Cut your fingers on it Jerry, just like before. Blood is the catalyst.”
Jerry was holding tight to Malcolm who was going wild, thrashing to and fro. “I...I will.”
Ian looked at her.
Samantha smiled. “Trust me?”
He gasped. “I do.”
“Jerry, now!”
Jerry shoved Malcolm away. Samantha placed Ian’s bloody hand on the crown, then shoved it on his head as Jerry grasped it. Malcolm came careening toward them, hands outstretched, to latch on tight. Screaming, they all pulled, jerked, yanked, and wrenched.
They were still screaming when the ten or so tourists, snapping pictures of the monument, gasped, gaped, and screamed themselves.
Samantha released the crown, and pulled Ian’s hand free.
Jerry, wide-eyed and bloody, jerked backward, tossing the crown topsy-turvy into the air.
Samantha lifted a blood-covered hand toward the tourists. “Oh, thank goodness. Call an ambulance. This man has been shot with an arrow.” One man pulled out his cell phone, and Samantha slumped in relief, placing a hand on Ian’s shoulder.
Jerry stood. Realized what had happened, and screamed, “Yeah!” He jumped up and pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah! Yeah!”
The older couple nearest him, backed away.
Mad Malcolm was looking around in confusion. He studied the tourists for a moment, took a few threatening steps forward, and finally raised his bow in the air and shook it as he screamed, long and loud.
They backed away, leaving a clear shot down the trail, and he took off running, shoving one man off his feet as he passed.
They all watched him disappear.
Samantha, holding Ian carefully, watched the man with the phone finish the call. “Are they coming?’
He nodded. “They’re on their way now. Less than five minutes, they said.”
Samantha looked at Ian’s pale, confused face. “Just hold on, Ian. Hold on for my sake, will you?” She prayed hard. Please, don’t let it be too late.
His grip briefly tightened on her hand and she admitted it to herself. She was scared. According to the history books Ian died on this day in the past. In his past, anyway. What if he still died this day? What if fate was set in stone, unchangeable?
A weird combination of hope and fear gripped her. Hope that fate would give them another chance, and fear that the past could not be changed, no matter the circumstances.
~~~
After a tense ride to the hospital and a rush down the hallway, Samantha had been banned from the surgery and directed to the waiting room.
Jerry had money wired to him and had gone off in search of real food as he called it. Samantha found a telephone, reversed the charges, and waited tensely while the phone rang.
She breathed out a sigh of relief when her grandfather answered and accepted the call. “Hello?”
She was so relieved to hear his voice, she burst into tears. “Hi, Grandpa,” she sniffed, and tried to get control.
“Samantha? Is that you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. A friend of mine has been hurt. We’re at the hospital. I’ll...I’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, how are you doing?”
“Well,” he hissed in a breath between his teeth. “Much better now that I know you’re alive. I worried when I didn’t hear from you. The university tracked down your rental car weeks ago, but you’d disappeared.”
“I know.” She leaned back against the wall and wiped her eyes. She was amazed by all that had happened since she’d exited that car. “I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
Grandpa exhaled loudly. “I knew you’d pull through. You’re
too resourceful not to. Is your friend going to be okay?”
Samantha blinked back more tears. “I think so. I hope so. How about you? How’s your health?”
“I’m holding steady. No thanks to you for disappearing like that. So? Did you find it?”
“I did, Grandpa. I sure did. That and more.” She glanced at the bundle on the hospital chair beside her. One of the tourists had placed it in a drawstring bag and handed it to her in the ambulance.
Grandpa was silent for a moment. She heard him swallow. “I haven’t heard anything on the news. I’ve been watching. I thought maybe someone saw you with it...and took it. Took you.” He laughed. “Send me a photo? I’ll get that nurse to help me access the email.”
“Will do. But Grandpa, I told you I’m bringing it home, and I am. As soon as my friend is released from the hospital, I’m coming.”
He laughed again. “Well, if I see you, I’ll see you. Let me know if you need bail money.”
She chuckled. “I will. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Digger.” He laughed again. “I love you too.”
After they hung up, Jerry appeared, looking cleaner and wearing hospital scrubs. He shrugged. “It’s all they had. Any word?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
“He’ll make it. He’s tough. Tougher than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She nodded.
He sat beside her and took her hand. “Samantha. I have to thank you.” Tears filled his eyes. “I couldn’t have stayed there. I wouldn’t have lasted.”
She squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t have left you.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t have blamed you. After I belittled you, tried to steal your find. I just want you to know I’m sorry... and I’m grateful. Nothing like Medieval Scotland to put things in focus, you know?’
She wiped at the tears filling her eyes. “I do.”
