My Hunted Highlander

by Badger, Nancy Lee

  “What is that beastie, mother?”

  “A moose. This makes no sense.” She slowly backed up, pressing their bodies behind a grove of white birch trees, their branches covered with golden leaves. “Birch trees? A moose? No snow? We’re not in Scotland anymore.”

  “How can this be?”

  Blair wasn’t sure of anything. One moment, they were in the snowy woods near Castle Ruadh in 1603 Scotland. Now, they stood in a forest that reminded her of New England, possibly the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Sinclair had spoken words that sounded eerily like a spell, before a bright light made her dizzy.

  Had they only traveled thousands of miles, or had they traveled to another time? The people outside their tent were an odd mix of modern and historical.

  “Come. We must find help.”

  “Who attacked the Sinclair laird? Can he no’ help us?”

  Blair shook her head. “He has his hands full, whomever he might be. Keep running, and we will find someone who can help.”

  “Wait up!” A woman called to them, through the trees. Defenseless, Blair searched the brush until she spotted a large, sturdy branch. Holding it over her shoulder like a baseball bat, she faced the approaching stranger.

  The woman was dressed in a plain gray skirt covered by a simple apron, and her long, brown braid tumbled over one shoulder of her blue peasant blouse. She pushed through the last branch separating them, then slid to a stop. When she spotted Blair, she doubled over to catch her breath.

  “Give me…a minute.” When she straightened, she noticed Keegan. “Don’t be afraid. I brought your friend up to the village to help you escape. He’ll skin me alive, if I let you out of my sight.”

  “My friend? Wait…you’re American?” Blair wasn’t sure if her ears were playing tricks on her, since the pretty woman in front of her was dressed similarly to herself.

  “Well, since this is America, it makes sense, you know?”

  “When are we?”

  “Don’t you mean where?”

  “Right. Where are we?”

  “Where I am every mid-September. I always head to the New England Highland Games to sell my wares.”

  “So, we’re in Lincoln?”

  The woman waved a hand in a circle. “Yep. We’re high up the mountain, above the meadows where most of the competition takes place. He said I should take you back to my vendor cart, so follow me.” She turned and headed back through the woods. Since she appeared to also head downhill, Blair clasped Keegan’s fingers in hers, and followed. With her ears attuned to any suspicious sounds, such as Raven Snoddy and his mercenaries, she followed her through the thick forest. If the woman spoke the truth, and Sinclair had whisked them away to America, her pirates were gone.

  “Where is Niall?” How could she forget this woman had mentioned she was assisting a friend with their escape? Who could he be, but Niall?

  “I’m not sure of the hunk’s name. We were never properly introduced, but if you’re the lady he described as having hair the color of a banked fire and eyes green as sparkling emeralds, then, yes, he was Niall.”

  Blair smiled at her words, and her heart did a tiny flip. “If he’s six-foot-four, about two-hundred pounds, with sandy hair, green eyes, a scar crossing his chest, and a scar below his right eye, then yes.”

  “He’s all that. Very cute. He asked me to watch for your escape, while he went hand-to-hand with that old guy.” The woman shoved aside branches, and headed away at a fast clip.

  Blair was slightly worried for Niall. His father didn’t fight fair, and probably had more magical potions in his sporran. Was Niall safe from his magic? Also, how did Niall get here?

  When Blair caught up to the woman, she had just stepped onto a narrow trail. The young woman glanced up the mountain, then sped down into the valley.

  “Wait!” Blair raced behind her with Keegan in tow. As they neared a crowd around a modern ski lodge, Blair relaxed. I’m home.

  This wasn’t the seashore, her actual home, but she recognized the ski lodge. The woman slowed down, and Blair grabbed her upper arm. “Who are you, and where exactly are we going?”

  “Oh, sorry about that. I’m Wynda Sinkler. I’m a food vender.”

  Keegan’s stomach growled, and both women smiled.

  Wynda leaned down and tapped Keegan on the nose. “I met the man you call Niall, when his stomach sounded just like yours. In fact, he looks a lot like you.”

  “I think he’s me brother.”

  “Makes sense. Sounds like you, too. I love a Scottish brogue. Anyway, Niall said to find you two, while he kept that older fella’ busy, and meet him back at my food truck.”

  Blair was stunned. Niall really was here! As she willed her pulse to slow, she glanced at hundreds of people lining a fenced meadow. Beyond them stood a huge kilted man, turning a caber. The telephone pole-length log flew through the air, and the crowd roared. At the far end of the field, another kilted athlete threw a sack over a high bar about twenty feet in the air, using a pitchfork. Another roar from the crowd made her grin. Memories of her pirate crew throwing similar sacks over The Black Thistle’s yardarm made her smile wider. The cheery thought disappeared, once she recalled that her crew had mutinied, and no longer shared her life. In fact, they might all be dead.

  “Why the frown?” Wynda asked.

  “No reason. Is this your vendor cart?”

  Wynda nodded, then opened a side door to the small cart on wheels. A puff of smoke, and the smell of overdone pastries, assailed them.

  “Dang it! I left the warming lights on.”

  Blair followed Wynda inside, and settled Keegan on a small bed in the back. Wynda waved her apron to clear the smoke. After she dumped the overdone food in a bin, she wrenched open a refrigerator and shoved a bottle of water in Blair’s hand.

  “Looks like you could use this, drink it. Hmm…those are nasty wounds.”

  “Wounds?” Blair followed the woman’s gaze to her own wrists. “Holy Moses! I didn’t notice mine, though I saw Keegan’s bruises. Must have been the ropes binding us.”

  “That old fart tied you up? Disgusting! Why?”

  “He thinks I mean something, to his son.”

  “Who’s his son?”

  “Niall.”

  Keegan jumped up, standing tall and proud. “And me.”

  Wynda looked stunned. “You mean to tell me that Niall went off hell-bent, brandishing a dagger, after his own father?”

  Blair nodded, then relaxed against the wall.

  “You look beat. Why don’t you two rest on my cot in the back. I’ll keep an eye out for Niall.” Not waiting for an answer, Wynda tied the apron around her tiny waist, removed a box of meat pies from the refrigerator, and set up a work area near a small oven.

  Blair tucked Keegan under a woolen blanket, then curled her weary body around him. Although worried about Niall’s safety, her mind set to figuring out what she and Keegan would do next. It looked like she had returned to the future, to her time. She recognized this ski area, and its well-known annual Scottish festival. If she could find transportation, she could return to her small apartment near the seacoast.

  I’m not leaving until I know Niall is okay.

  Her troubled mind spiraled into a dream of snowy mountains, a warm cave, and a naked Highlander. Shadows, sparking embers, and tangled limbs beneath warm furs made her body tingle, and a slight whimper escaped. Suddenly awake, she slowed her breathing, and eased away from her sensual dream. Startling images kept her awake, so she stopped feigning sleep, and sat up. Taking care not to wake Keegan, she walked close to where Wynda waited on customers, without being seen from outside.

  “Can I help?”

  Wynda turned and smiled. “How are you at washing dishes?”

  Blair tied an offered apron around her waist, braided her hair, and filled the small metal sink with hot water. She’d missed this simple pleasure, and took a moment to wash the dirt from her forearms and neck. If she discovered a bathtub anywhere nearby
, she’d be in Heaven.

  After she’d replaced the dishwater, and cleaned several pots and pans, she dried her hands on her apron. Wynda finished with a customer, and joined her by the sink.

  “Looks like you need several bandages.” Wynda opened a small cabinet and took out a small white box with a large red cross on the lid.

  “The hot water helped, though the soap stung. I’ve had worse.”

  “Well, I appreciate the help, but I don’t want you to hurt.”

  As Wynda squirted some antiseptic on Blair’s cuts, then covered them with small adhesive bandages, Blair said, “Can I beg something to eat for my son?”

  Wynda nodded, returning the kit to the cabinet. She slipped some meat pies from under the warming lights onto paper plates. She set a bottle of brown sauce, plastic forks, and a stack of napkins on a small table in the small bed nook. Keegan staggered off the cot, rubbing his eyes. His thick golden hair stuck out in every direction, and his wrists bore bruises that matched his mother’s.

  “I am going to kill Angus Sinclair,” Blair whispered.

  “Kill who?”

  Wynda’s startled expression made the hair on the back of Blair’s neck stand on end. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

  “I don’t take to killing a fella’, especially when it sounds like we could be related.”

  “What?”

  “Sinkler is a Scottish sept of Clan Sinclair.”

  “Trust me. He’s a very distant relation,” Blair said, since the man in question was born in the sixteenth-century. Her thoughts fled from killing to kissing. She hoped Niall was uninjured, and would join them soon, so that they could figure out what to do next. On one hand, she was thrilled she was almost home, but scared for Niall and Keegan. This wasn’t their home, or their time. If, by some miracle, they could return to their home in Scotland, would she let them go, without her? She might persuade Niall to care for his younger brother, Keegan, but could she let her child go?

  Someone pounded on the door of the food cart. Wynda shoved Blair and Keegan into the bed nook, and drew the drape. “Keep quiet.”

  Blair peeked, as Wynda opened the door a crack, and the food cart shifted beneath the weight of a heavy person.

  “Did ye find them, lass? Are they safe?”

  Blair recognized Niall’s voice, and it was a wonderful treat for her ears. She pulled the drape aside, and barreled into his chest.

  “The question is, Highlander. Are you okay?”

  CHAPTER 24

  Niall’s breath caught, and the Highlander’s heart swelled inside his chest with thankfulness. Blair was safe. Her fragrance filled his lungs and melded with the scent of pine trees and meat pies. When she pressed her soft breasts to his chest, his arms circled her waist, without understanding why he needed to touch her, as well. She was warm and soft, and he wanted nothing more than to lay her down and nuzzle her curves and dips, until they both shattered.

  ‘Tis no’ the place. Definitely no’ the correct time.

  “Are ye well, love?”

  Blair pulled back, gazing up at him with tear-stained cheeks, and a beautiful smile. He brushed hair from her forehead, leaned forward, and kissed the pale skin above her quivering brows. She trembled in his arms. “Did he hurt ye, love?”

  She shook her head, but the young cook stepped closer. “Her wrists were bleeding, and the boy’s are bruised.”

  “He tied ye, like animals!”

  The cook tapped his shoulder. “Hush. You’re scaring the little boy.”

  Niall inhaled a deep, cleansing breath, then clasped Keegan to his side. Turning to the young woman, he said, “Lass, I thank ye for tending their wounds.”

  The other woman waved at him. “I fed them, too.”

  “My thanks, lass.”

  She slid her fingers along his bruised eye. “How’s the other guy?”

  Niall smiled, then returned to glare at Blair’s bandaged wrists. He set a longbow and a quiver against a box.

  “Where’d you get that?” Blair asked.

  “Resting against the blacksmith’s furnace, near the tent where I battled my sire. I thought I might find a use for it, next time we meet. I should have killed him, but he disappeared in a burst of light.”

  “Sounds like what happened when he dragged us here. I think I’m home.”

  Niall held Blair’s gaze, as her words registered in his head. This was her home? This strange world? When he had raced from the village, after his father escaped, he prayed that Blair and Keegan were safe. Along the way, he had seen many odd things. Although some people were dressed in plaids, others wore odd leggings, shoes, and shirts. Even while bagpipers marched near, the songs were not familiar. Vendors under large open-sided tents hawked their wares.

  An odd noise made him glance out the cart’s window. Two men drove a small vehicle, propelled by nothing but air. It slid to a stop opposite the strange woman’s cart. They jumped out and removed black bags from two large boxes.

  “What be that?” He pointed at their vehicle.

  “The golf cart? There are several at the games. How else can we get the garbage picked up? When Rae Wilson helped me get my bags to the dumpster, someone tried to blow us up.”

  “Rae Wilson?” Niall said.

  The young woman’s cheeks pinked. “He’s…”

  “He must mean a lot to you, but are you serious? Someone tried to hurt you?” Blair grabbed the woman’s hand as if they were long-lost friends.

  “I wish to hear more of this event, and I thank ye for yer help, lass, but we have yet to be introduced.” Niall’s hands cupped hers.

  “Niall, this pretty woman is Wynda Sinkler.” Blair’s left eyebrow rose, the same time he swung his gaze to the stranger.

  “Sinkler?”

  “Thought that would grab your attention,” Blair said.

  Shocked, but not unhappy, he turned his attention to the Sinkler woman. “Wynda is a verra’ pretty name. Aye, we be clansmen, and I owe ye my thanks for saving…these two.”

  Wynda smiled, then hugged him around his waist. Stepping back, she said, “You are welcome. Now, what’s the plan?”

  “We need to return home, but we canno’ leave without my sire,” Niall said. Blair’s gaze locked on his, and she chewed her bottom lip. At any other time, the gesture would make him hard as stone. Something was wrong, which concerned him. “What is it, lass?”

  “I am home, I said.”

  Surprised at the sad tone of her voice, Niall patted her hand. She collapsed into his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Do ye wish to stay?”

  Blair sighed, cupping his chin. “I don’t know. I never planned to get home, yet I always dreamed of escaping…Scotland.”

  Wynda’s left eyebrow rose. “Why would you wish to leave Scotland?”

  Blair dropped her hand, and clutched Wynda’s hands in hers. “Wynda, you’ve met Gavin, Rae, and Dorcas, you said?”

  “Right. They are strange people. Kind of oddballs. Rae and Gavin…even Dorcas… disappeared the other day. I really miss…Rae.” She whispered the last part.

  Blair gripped Wynda’s shoulders. “They are time-travelers. Please believe me? I met Niall in Scotland, back in 1603. I’m from here, but was kidnapped.”

  “This guy kidnapped you?” Wynda said, pointing at Niall.

  “Nay! I care for the lass!”

  “Calm down, Niall.” Blair turned away from him. “Wynda, I was taken to the past, many years ago by a man, now dead. The man Niall fought is his father, but he kidnapped me from the past, and forced me here. Now that I am free of him, I am unsure what to do next.”

  “Mama! Doono’ leave me!” Keegan stood tall and proud, as much as a lad his size could look, when his whole world was crumbling. “Niall loves ye, as much as me, so doono’ leave us.”

  “Keegan, sweetie, wouldn’t you like to stay here with me?”

  “What about Niall? He is my brother. Gavin, too. I want to grow up near them; learn from them; be a family.�
�� A single tear dripped down Keegan’s pale cheek.

  “Can’t I be your family?” she whispered

  Niall wanted to punch a wall. Here was a strong, desirable woman. A woman he wished he had time to pursue. He could not set aside the feelings that had surfaced during their steamy kisses and mind-blowing lovemaking. Did he truly care where or when they lived, as long as she spent the nights in his arms? Unfortunately, it did matter.

  The idea of staying was silly, and selfish. His clan had need of him, and that meant returning to 1603 Scotland. Finding Gavin, and joining forces, was imperative. “Wynda? Please watch the lad so Lady Blair and I might speak alone?”

  Wynda said nothing, but the lad whimpered.

  Niall knelt before his brother. “Keegan Sinclair! A Sinclair does no’ whimper like a new-born pup.”

  The lad nodded, and followed Wynda to the front of the food cart, where she shared another meat pie with the lad. Mindful of her bruised wrists, Niall cupped Blair’s elbow.

  “Come with me, lass?”

  Blair nodded, and followed him out the door, down the steps, and into the alley near the huge building Wynda had called a ski lodge.

  “I be verra’ sorry that Angus treated ye thusly. The man is a thorn in my side, and I cannot leave, until I know he is stopped. If ye stay, he may attack ye again.”

  Nodding, Blair wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if to protect herself from his words. Niall pulled her into his side, as they walked. He assumed Blair wasn’t afraid of Angus Sinclair so much as she was afraid of how the cur might hurt her son. His sire had escaped. Had he returned to their own time, or was he skulking nearby? Until he knew for sure the man was gone, he could not leave these two.

  Blair stopped walking, and stamped her foot. “This is all my fault! All I wanted was a drink of fresh water. I was wary of the pirates, but your father was at my side in seconds. Keegan must've heard me scream, and came running. Angus and his two henchmen tied us up and dragged us through the woods. He boasted that he had attacked my crew.”