by Sarah Hoss
Gillian lay in the grass passed out. She moaned as if she was struggling to wake and he ran over to her. The air was cool since it was the end of November and she was covered in gooseflesh. He picked her up, wrapping her in the long part of his plaid, and cradled her to his chest to give her warmth, but knew he needed to get her somewhere fast. His heart soared, knowing the spell had worked and she’d made it through with him. He searched the area to see if he recognized where he was. The grass was beginning to turn from green to brown. The forest was decorated with yellow, green, and brown leaves. Peering up at the sky, the moon hung full in the middle of the trees so he guessed it to be around seven in the evening.
Another sound roused him and he searched the area. His mind was becoming clearer and he remembered Antonio grabbing him just before he’d lost consciousness. He must have come through as well. Turning to look to his right, he saw him. Antonio tried to stand, his hand was on his head and his eyes were closed.
He placed Gillian behind another tree. “Don’t move.” Her eyes tried to focus and he placed his hand on the side of her face and kissed her forehead.
Walking around the back of the tree, he pulled the dagger from his waistband and found his target. Antonio stood and searched the area. Now was the time to attack while he was dizzy from the travel and confused. He’d had enough of this man threatening Gillian and it would end now.
He ran toward him and just as Antonio turned around at the sound, he bent slightly and pushed his shoulder into his stomach, shoving him to the ground. He sat up and straddled him, slamming his fist once into his face. Antonio grabbed both his hands and they wrestled for a moment until Antonio got the upper hand and flipped him off. Hamish rolled twice, then stood as quickly as he could and found his footing. He stared the man down, waiting to see what he would do.
Antonio charged and as he approached, Hamish readied for the attack. Antonio’s fist landed right in his mouth, and his head flew back. He felt blood pool on his lips and he spit. With his arm up to wipe his mouth, he heard Gillian holler, watch out, and he deflected the next blow. His dagger lay on the ground just to his left, having been dropped when they’d wrestled. He swung his leg around Antonio’s and grabbing his hands, knocked him to the ground. Gaining a few moments while his opponent tried to get up, he grabbed his dagger.
“Need that to fight do ya? Against an unarmed man?”
He spit again. “Until I’m sure ye are unarmed, this wee knife doesna leave my hand.”
Antonio stuck his hands in the air, lifted his jacket to show there were no weapons. Hamish placed the knife back into his waistband. They charged each other, grabbing forearms. Antonio let go with his left hand and sent a punch straight to his stomach. With his opponents arm brought back, he let go and stepped to the side to avoid another blow. With the moment open, he let his fist fly, making contact with the man’s jaw.
They came back at each other with Hamish lifting Antonio up slightly and squeezing him in a bear hug. The man slapped at his back as the breath slipped from him.
Somewhere in the background he heard sighs and gasps as Gillian watched the fight. It was hard to focus on his opponent and keep his mind off of her.
Antonio fought. Kicking him wherever he could and punching him in the back. Finally, Hamish let go and the man dropped. He lay there, trying to catch his breath. He waited. He was invested in this. It had to end. He knew as he stood in this clearing, staring at the man that had threatened Gillian, one of them had to die. He could not—no, he would not spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, waiting to see when the next attack would come. He had to protect her at all costs.
Antonio stood and anger seeped from every pore. This was a man not used to losing, but neither was he. The problem was, they both fought for the same two reasons—life and Gillian.
Antonio ran toward him, then dropped and slid on the ground past him. He stood just behind him and as Hamish was turning, he stole the dagger from his waistband.
“Now, we see who wins.”
Hamish squared his shoulders. “Aye, we do.”
Hamish charged and sidestepped when the knife was thrust toward his stomach. He scooted around Antonio. He was pissed and he wasn’t playing games anymore. He reached around the front of Antonio, placing one arm around his neck and the other behind his head. With a quick twist, he closed his eyes as he heard the bones in Antonio’s neck pop, felt the muscles in the man’s body tighten for a moment, then become loose. His head lay on his arm. He said a quick prayer, then released the body. It slid down his frame to lie in a limp pool at his feet.
Turning, he stared at Gillian as he tried to catch his breath. She was standing near the tree where he had left her. Her hands covered her mouth and he could tell she was crying. He swallowed then held out his hand and motioned for her to come to him. She shook her head no.
“There is nothing to fear.”
She turned away from him, bent over, and threw up. Witnessing the death of anyone in hand-to-hand combat, let alone the man who wanted you dead, was too much for anyone.
He motioned for her to come again. “Tis all right, lass. I promise.” He bent to pick up his dagger from the dead man’s hand.
She wiped at her mouth and walked slowly over to him and took his hand. She stared at the body of her attacker for a moment before throwing herself into his arms and cried. She squeezed tightly around his neck, burying her face in his chest. He whispered soothing words as he stroked his hand up and down her back. Then, she went limp. Fainted, he imagined, from the strain of everything that had gone on in the last twenty-four hours and the relief that Antonio was finally dead. He scooped her up into his arms.
Off to the left he could barely make out a cottage with a barn and paddock. He could hear the faint sound of horses and sheep. Smoke rolled out of the chimney. It looked warm and inviting and very, very familiar.
He walked as quickly as he could toward his brother, Alexander’s, house. If there was one person at this point he could go to, it would be him.
She began to stir.
“Gillian?”
Her eyes slowly opened and searched for something to focus on. When they finally landed on him, she smiled, closed her eyes again and snuggled deeper into his arms. It felt right.
Then her eyes popped open in a flash and she let out a horrible scream causing him to lose his footing and almost drop her.
“Shhh, it’s all right.”
She squirmed, causing him discomfort.
“Gillian, it’s me. Quit screaming.”
She quieted, her mouth hanging slightly open and she was breathing hard.
“Am I dreaming?”
Her hand came up to touch his face, pausing for a moment before making contact.
“Nay, ye arena dreaming.”
She swallowed. “Is he really dead?”
“Aye.”
Her hand went to her mouth as she became deep in thought. He began walking again.
“I watched you . . . “Her voice cracked for a moment, but she gained her composure. “. . . I watched you fade away. I reached for you when you stuck your hand out and the next thing I remember, I was hit with a blast of, I don’t know, it felt like air.”
She chuckled a little. “Holy shit. I can’t believe it worked.”
He glanced quizzically down at her. “What?”
“Our hands touching. You brought me with you.”
“Aye.”
“Hamish, you can put me down now. I’m all right, I promise.”
“Are ye sure?”
She scrunched her eyebrows with the headache that grew. “Yes.”
He snuck a peek at her through the corner of his eye and smiled. When her feet hit the ground, he didn’t let go right away, making sure she was standing firmly first.
Glancing around she as
ked, “What are we going to do?”
He jutted his chin out, pointing. “Do ye see the wee cottage up ahead?”
“Yes.”
“It belongs to my brother, Alexander, and his wife, Marlana. We’re going there.”
She stiffened and he glanced down at her. “Everything will be fine.”
Numerous thoughts began to run through his mind at the thought of seeing his brother again. After all that had happened with Margaret, then his own disappearance, he didn’t think it could be good. But he’d told her everything would be all right. I do hope so.
Once they reached the door, he knocked. She took a small step back and crossed her arms over her chest.
Noises from inside sounded as if someone scooted a chair back. Footsteps grew louder as the person approached.
The door creaked open and a woman appeared. She was stunning and very pregnant. She stood in a dark green, wool dress with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her dark brown hair was brought up in a Gibson Girl type of bun, with small tendrils hanging loose around her face. She looked quizzical at Gillian, but the moment her eyes rested on Hamish, they opened in great surprise and she smiled.
“Hamish! Oh, my God, it’s you.”
The woman hugged Hamish, then she turned in the doorway. “Alex, come quick.” Turning back, the woman invited them in.
Hamish turned to accommodate them both in the doorway. As the door closed behind them, a man came out of the room off to the side, almost in a jog.
“Marlana, what’s wrong? Are ye—“
He stopped dead in his tracks as his gaze left his wife and landed on them. Shock was replaced with anger. Gillian glanced between Hamish and Alexander and saw the family resemblance for the two favored each other. His brother strode purposefully toward them.
Finally, the woman’s attention was directed toward her and Marlana’s eyes began to travel up and down her form, taking everything in.
She tried to focus her attention between the standoff going on between the men and Marlana.
“What on earth are you two about?” Marlana looked between the two brothers.
Alexander stood, fists closed tightly, glaring at his brother. Then the man pulled back his arm and punched Hamish straight in the mouth. Hamish rubbed his jaw as blood trickled from the corner.
Marlana reached out to grab his arm.
Hamish turned to her. “I’m all right.” Addressing Marlana’s questions, he answered, “Apparently, Brother here was making his feelings known about my absence.”
“Who the bloody hell disappears right after the death of his sister? In his own house, in the middle of a fire started by someone we don’t know?”
Gillian turned to stare at him. Her words caught in her throat and she began to understand why he needed to get home so badly. Part of her was hurt that she had no idea, that she didn’t really know him. But in all honesty, how could she? She’d been battling her own demons the entire time he’d been with her. Another part of her was sad for him. He’d lost his sister and was dealing with an arsonist. On top of everything, it was her fault he’d disappeared from his home in the first place.
Her eyes found his and she gave an apologetic stare. He shook his head and whispered, “Not now.”
“Alexander,” he said and turned his attention back to his brother, “If ye would like to talk about this calmly, let’s sit down. If ye would rather just hit me, let’s go outside, shall we?” He took a step forward and so did Alexander.
Marlana glanced at Gillian for a moment before laying her hand on her husband’s chest. “I don’t think so.”
He turned to her. “Wife, doona interfere.”
She stared back. “Husband, sit down, please. I am almost nine months pregnant and I don’t need the stress of you two going out to fight like twelve-year-old boys.” She pulled out a chair. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”
Alexander stared at him for a moment longer, then turned his glare to his wife. After another second, he took a seat and Marlana fetched wine and glasses for all. Hamish pulled out a chair for Gillian and she sat, not knowing what to say or do.
Hamish reached down and held her hand on her thigh. Staring straight at his brother, he asked, “Where would ye like me to begin?”
Alexander eyed him in silence.
“Might I have a word in private, brother?” Hamish finally asked.
Alexander nodded, then removed himself from the table. Hamish leaned over to whisper in her ear, “I’ll be but a moment,” then went outside.
She sat there, silent, wondering what to do next.
The sun began to set in the sky, turning it brilliant shades of pink, red, and purple. Hamish was home. His soul felt alight at the knowledge.
He and his brother walked over to the railing of the paddock and leaned against it at the same time, like a man and his shadow. Such as they were, growing up so close. Add James to the pot, and a person was amazed at how they interacted with each other.
He saw his brother look down at the ground, his jaw working overtime as he must have been collecting his thoughts.
“Alexander, look at me.” When his brother glanced up, he continued. “Ye know I wouldna have left on purpose.”
Alexander stood up straight. “Then ye had been captured?”
“Nay.” He saw the tension leave his brother’s posture. “I just want to make sure that ye understand I wouldna disappear on purpose.”
Alexander leaned against the rail and stared at him. “Aye, I know it.”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin, “the punch ye threw at me says differently.”
“I was angry. Having just lost Margaret, then not being able to find ye. Well, when ye showed up as if nothing had happened, I got angry.” He bent over and picked up a rock and tossed it at the sky. It landed on the other side of the paddock.
Hamish reached out and grasped his brother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Alexander nodded.
Raising an eyebrow in a questioning glance, he asked, “Ye believe Marlana about where she comes from and the things she tells ye?” He held still as he waited for an answer.
Alexander looked at him confused. “Why do ye ask such a question now?”
He swallowed. Somewhere behind him, a horse whinnied. A bird flew overhead for he saw the shadow race across the ground and up the side of the barn.
“I need to know.”
Alexander nodded his head. “As strange as what she says may be, I do believe her.”
“Good, because so do I.”
His brother turned to him and gave him a look that clearly told him he had better start talking. He wanted so much to tell the story but was unsure of how to start.
Hamish walked over to the bench Alex had made for Marlana and sat down. His brother followed suit. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. A gentle breeze blew through the night like ghosts brushing up against him and he shivered. He had lived in the now and wondered about the future, of things to come. But he’d also been in the future and thought about the past, those that were long dead, all the while knowing he had seen them only hours before. He’d shivered then, too.
He turned his head slightly so that his head still lay in his hands. “Alexander, ye couldna find me because I wasna here. I’d gone to the future.”
Alexander sat back, glaring at his brother. “Christ, ye think this is funny? What are ye about?”
He sat straight and grabbed his brother by the arm. “Listen, I tell ye the truth. When I disappeared, I was in the house trying to save Margaret.” He paused, let go of Alexander and stood. “Everything went dark and the next thing I know, I’m standing in Gillian’s home.”
Alexander folded his arms over his chest. The look on his face to
ld Hamish that he didn’t believe him and he was furious at the tale.
“Why would ye take Marlana’s story and use it like that?”
“Alexander, why can ye believe what yer wife says . . .” He pointed to the house. “. . . but not yer own brother?” he asked as he pointed to himself.
He stared beseechingly, praying his brother would believe.
“So, yer telling me that ye didna really believe what Marlana said then?”
He strode over to the barn doors and placing his hands upon them, stepped back, then looked down at the ground. If he couldn’t convince Alexander, there was no hope of convincing anyone. He shook his head.
He heard Alexander walk over, then felt his brother’s hand upon his shoulder. “Hamish, it isna that I doona believe what ye say, though the traveling through time still seems unreal. It’s that it happened again. What is it with this family and time travel?”
He stole a glance at Alexander. Straightening, he shrugged. “I doona know. Ye and Marlana were meant to be together. Fate sent me to Gillian and there must be a reason for her to have come back with me.”
Both men turned to stare at the house where the women were. Silence stretched between them.
“Two women from the future in my house. What do ye think they are talking about?”
Alexander shrugged. “I doona know, but I doona think Marlana will reveal herself to Gillian quite yet.” Then, he turned to Hamish. “What was it like?”
He glanced at his brother. “Time travel or the future?”
Alexander met his gaze. Shrugging, he said, “Both.”
He swallowed as he thought for a moment. “When I traveled through time, I felt hollow, like for a moment I didn’t exist. No heartbeat, no feeling at all. I didna care for it.”
