Highland Games Through Time

by Nancy Lee Badger

  Her thin, coltish body had grown into womanly curves. Freshly washed black hair hung down her back, past her waist. Blue eyes, under full and thick eyelashes, glared at him, sparkling under the sun that streamed in through the skylight.

  “How are you feeling? I couldn’t help but see your wounds.”

  “Aye, sure ye could not help yerself. Others peer at me through yonder window.” Skye stepped from the tub, wrapping the thick towel tightly around her.

  “Careful of the broken glass, and look for yourself.” He crossed his arms and watched. Skye was small, no more than five-foot-five. Because he was sitting, she stared down at him while she crossed to the window and inspected the rolled-down shade for herself. When she turned, she smiled. He assumed she hadn’t meant her mouth to look so luscious and seductive.

  “Ye speak the truth for once, Highlander.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Skye shrugged, sitting on the edge of the tub. While one hand clenched the towel tight to her chest, the other lazily swept along the thin layer of soap bubbles in the tub.

  “Will you tell me how you got those injuries?”

  Skye looked around the room, anywhere but at him. Was she uncomfortable with his presence? She wouldn’t have asked him to sit, if she wanted him gone. She was hiding something, though he was glad she hadn’t shared much while in Jenny and Bull’s presence.

  How was he to explain her? Her clothing and speech matched visitors to the Highland games, so that was a plausible start.

  She’d mentioned a man named Alec. Was she hiding from him? Had he hurt her? No, because she had insisted there was a need to save Alec. She had been in quite the hurry until her wound slowed her down.

  Someone, or something, had attacked her and left her bloodied. Knowing someone else had touched her, made him burn. Uncrossing his arms, he slapped his hands on his knees. His thighs trembled, as he itched to jump up and sweep her into his arms. His large bed was through the door. So close…

  “I told ye. A dragon.”

  “What?” Her words made no sense to his desire-addled brain.

  Skye didn’t look up from where she skimmed the water. “The bath cleaned away the sea’s spray, and Janet assures me I may borrow some of her clothing.”

  “A dragon? Sea spray? Since we are about one-hundred-and-fifty miles from the ocean, can I assume this happened back in Scotland?”

  She didn’t answer right away.

  Once he realized that he was holding his breath, he exhaled, willing his breathing to slow. The room smelled sweet, like a combination of Skye and the lavender soap Jenny had added to the tub. The rich mixture was intoxicating, as if he’d opened a bedroom window after making love during a summer rain shower.

  “Aye,” she said, standing. When her knees bent, he feared she was going to collapse onto the cold, tile floor. Jake raced to her side.

  “Easy. Here, let me help you to my…the bed. You need to rest. Janet…I mean, Jenny will tend your wounds.”

  “My thanks,” Skye whispered close to his ear.

  His body responded.

  Muttering curses, he helped her walk into the master bedroom. She padded barefoot beside him, in silence. Her shoulders trembled, as he held her steady. When she turned and sat on the edge of the bed, he regrettably released her.

  Jake snapped on the lamp on the bedside table.

  “What is this miracle?” she asked.

  Her face glowed under the lamplight and he recalled another time and place, when firelight had flickered across her features. She’d seemed so young, then.

  Skye had come to him from a world of beeswax and tallow candles, oiled torches, and camp fires. She was innocent in many ways. As long as she needed his help, she wouldn’t hurt him, he hoped.

  “We call this electricity. It’s a safer way to light my house than candles.”

  “This really is where ye live? I thought the tent where ye sell yer wares…”

  “I sleep in the tent only when I volunteer at the Highland games. They ended today. Good timing, on your part.”

  She laughed, dryly. “Aye, ‘twas good I jumped into the sea and thought fast enough to say the spell to get me here.”

  He tucked her feet beneath the covers. “Why here? Why now, after all this time?”

  Skye slowly leaned back into the pillows. “These be soft as down. This fabric is sleek as well-spun linen. Are ye rich?”

  He laughed.

  After she pulled the covers to her chin, he reached under and tugged on the damp towel. After a few seconds of hesitation, she allowed him to pull it from around her. She gazed up at him with an unreadable expression. Anger? Lust? Thanks?

  “No, but I do like top-quality sheets.” Jake sat on the edge of the bed, and her eyes widened. He smoothed the blanket over her, carefully avoiding her injured hip.

  Had she changed her mind about him or was she suddenly shy? Women of her era wouldn’t lie naked in a bed near a man to whom they were not married. Plus, she hadn’t answered him.

  “Fine. Ignore my question. We can talk later. Jenny will bring you some pizza.”

  Her expression and crinkled brow made him realize she had no idea what pizza was. “You’ll love it. Trust me.”

  “Here we go,” Jenny said, entering the room with little fanfare. If Jenny thought it odd that Jake jumped from the bed while holding a damp towel, staring down at the obviously naked young woman, her face showed no such enlightenment. The tray she carried barely bobbled.

  Then, why did he feel guilty?

  “Let me help,” he said. He dropped the towel on a nearby chair. Grabbing the tray, he shifted his attention back to Skye. Her eyes were on Jenny, and she wasn’t smiling. He placed the tray on the side table and offered Skye a slice of pizza. The aroma of cheese and tomato sauce flooded his nostrils.

  When she licked her lips, his groin tightened.

  Hell’s fire, I’m in trouble.

  He turned his attention back to the food, and prayed she wasn’t allergic to anything.

  Skye wiggled herself upright, with one hand clutching the blanket. She accepted the food along with a paper napkin. Her brow rose and her startling bright blue eyes widened. She stared at the folded napkin, rubbing the scratchy surface against her cheek.

  Jake fought to hold back a laugh.

  “That’s a napkin. For wiping your mouth and fingers. Try the pizza.”

  “I brought her a cola,” Jenny said.

  Jake thought for a minute. What would Skye think about the sweet carbonated beverage? Skye accepted the aluminum can. She smelled it, peered at the small hole, then sipped.

  After she swallowed, her face brightened at the sugary treat. She filled her mouth with pizza. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the delight filling her face. He thought of all the wonders he could show her. Reality slapped him in the face.

  She was here for a reason.

  She would return to her time, and he planned to stay right where he was. Wasn’t that the prudent decision? Why go back and chance death? He didn’t owe Skye Gunn or her family a thing.

  He would owe Jenny, though. She always came whenever he called. Usually, it was because one of his horses was sick or needed an inoculation.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. Eat, then rest,” Jenny said in Skye’s direction. “Bull’s in the kitchen, so I better get back before the food’s all gone.”

  He watched her leave and when he turned all his attention back to Skye, her mouth had widened into a smile. Sauce dribbled down her chin, but what surprised him was the way her eyes had closed to slits framed by long, black lashes.

  “You look like a satisfied cat,” he said, then shoved a piece of pizza in his mouth. The flavors exploded on his tongue. His taste buds jumped to life, but something was missing.

  Skye stopped mid-chew. Had she noticed he had stared at Jenny when she left the room? Or, did she think his comment was a joke?

  “What?” he asked.

  “Is she yer…woman?”
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br />   Skye sounded jealous. What brought on this turn of events?

  “Jenny is a neighbor, and she helps me with my animals. She should be able to care for your wounds. Will you let her?”

  “If ye rate her as worthy, I would appreciate a healing poultice and a bandage. We have much work to do, Jake.”

  She used the napkin to wipe a spot of sauce from the pale skin above her breasts, adjacent to her fragile collarbone. He wanted to lean forward, and lick the spot clean.

  “This food. ‘Tis delicious. I have never tasted crusty bannock so light and soft. The cheese is fresh and melted, and the sauce is unlike any I have tasted at banquet or faire.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  They ate their food, until Skye set her soda can on the bedside table. “I’m so sleepy…”

  As her words drifted off, her tongue slipped from between her rosy lips and cleaned the corner of her mouth.

  He hardened to stone.

  Why react to a stray dot of tomato sauce? Worry sliced through him. He knew little about her. Five years ago, she had begged for his help. He’d thought about saying yes, especially after both Haven and Iona disappeared. When he didn’t step up quick enough, she blackmailed him into going to the past with her.

  The anger that racked his body made him eager to wake her up, and shake some sense into her. The last time he did her bidding, he came to blows with her brute of a brother.

  Once Kirk had calmed down, the warrior had invited him to attend the war council of sixteenth-century Scottish Highlanders, asking his opinion on how to capture a sorcerer. Someone had just murdered a castle guard, and he had shared his military strategies.

  “You still awake?”

  “Aye. Thank ye for the food.”

  “Get some rest. Jenny will be in when she finishes her lunch. I’ll keep Bull occupied elsewhere. You need to heal, then we’ll talk.”

  “Aye, ‘tis a good plan.”

  The door to the living room creaked open and Jenny tiptoed in, as he gazed at Skye’s small form in his huge bed. How long had she been standing outside the door? Had she heard anything substantial?

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “I forgot to tell you. Give her about ten minutes, but I have to tend her wounds.”

  “A few minutes would be fine. I want her to relax. The meal tired her out,” he whispered.

  Heat rose along his jaw as Jenny leaned in and kissed Jake’s cheek. Jenny quietly turned and padded out of the bedroom.

  He scratched his head. Why did he feel embarrassed by her kiss, instead of aroused? Jenny was beautiful, smart, and available. Jake sighed at his unanswered query, and turned back to the strangely desirable woman in his bed.

  Skye glared straight at him.

  Inside a stinking cloud of thick, brown, dark magic, Dorcas choked. Haven cried out from somewhere behind her. Gasping, Dorcas fell to the great room’s hard floor, unable to help her young friend.

  Pain radiated through her back and legs, and the cold stone floor chilled her knees and palms. Struggling to breathe, she fought to gather her wits.

  Slowly lifting her head, she fought a wave of dizziness, and waved away air filled with grit, and the odor of smoldering wood.

  As the smoke dissipated, she glanced around the great room. She raised her hands to ward off a second attack. No threat moved, and no shadows lurked.

  “Haven? Where be ye, lass?”

  Haven coughed, and appeared at her side. “I’m here.”

  Dorcas relaxed a moment then called to the Gunn stronghold’s guards. Several men, followed by a few servant women, circled them, shouting out questions and calling for more help. A hand shot out and cupped her elbow. She peered up into a familiar face.

  “The sorcerer. Did ye see him?” she asked.

  Marcus Mackenzie kneeled beside her. He helped her to her feet. “We saw no one.”

  “Aye, the man is crafty. Knew we were scrying, he did.”

  “Scrying? Ye used witchery? Inside Kirk’s keep?” Marcus glared at her. The man stood tall above her, like all the Highlanders, but she did not fear him. Haven joined them, and helped her seat her weary bones on the bench.

  “Hush, no need to spread a word that others might not like,” Haven whispered.

  Dorcas agreed with Haven. To have someone know of witchery is one thing; seeing it performed is another.

  “Forgive me, Mackenzie. We were set on finding Skye Gunn, and we forgot our place.”

  The Mackenzie laird laughed. “As this is Kirkwall and Haven’s home, and ye were searching for Skye, I see no problem. Where is Kirk?”

  “Out searching the countryside for the wee wench.”

  “Where did all the smoke come from?”

  “The sorcerer.”

  Marcus drew his sword, and turned in a tight circle. “Where?”

  “Nay, we dinna’ see him, but he saw us.”

  Servants scurried about. Within moments, they mopped up the spilled water with rags. Mackenzie walked toward the guards. She prayed he had left his wife safely at home.

  “Haven, did ye say ye recognized where Skye had traveled to?”

  “Well, the garden tub and modern plumbing indicates that she probably time-traveled to the future. Let’s hope it’s Jake’s home.”

  “Why did she appear…naked?”

  “She was taking a bath. Someone interrupted her.”

  “She could have sensed our prying eyes.”

  “True. I have a feeling that Jake might have gotten a free show.” Haven laughed, then her face contorted, and she coughed. Dorcas’ chest felt constricted, and she coughed as well.

  “If Skye dinna’ want him to see her nudity, he should beware. Certain of his body parts might be in danger.” They laughed together, then sobered when Kirk marched into the great room.

  He sniffed the air, slipped his great sword from the scabbard on his back, and growled. The guards following on his heels spread out, their eyes searching the room for enemies.

  Dorcas nodded in appreciation. Kirk, their leader, was a magnificent Highland warrior. His wife Haven, standing beside her, wore an expression that told Dorcas she was thinking of exactly how she would like to get his muscled body into bed.

  An image filled Dorcas’ head; the image of Haven and Kirk tangling beneath the bed sheets. Her own cheeks suddenly heated.

  “We need to talk first, Lady Haven. Lovemaking comes later,” Dorcas whispered.

  Haven blushed.

  When Kirk noticed his wife’s reaction, his features softened.

  “The great warrior is head over heels in love with ye. He fell hard, my lady.”

  Kirk handed his sword to a man beside him. Haven launched into her husband’s embrace and he wrapped his muscular arms around her.

  “What happened here? I smell witchery.”

  Dorcas sighed. “Aye, ‘tis my fault, my laird. Lady Haven and I were…searching for yer sister. The sorcerer attacked us.”

  Kirk’s eyes shut as he kissed his wife’s temples. “I have lost one family member. I would die should ye or Alec disappear.”

  The man’s love for his woman washed over Dorcas. They were destined for each other and had fought to stay together through the tough times. Peace was hard to come by in this century, but one man was the source of most of their woes.

  The sorcerer.

  CHAPTER 10

  Skye thought, for one perfect moment in time, that she had found Jake, the man to help her in her quest. However, when the healer he called Jenny kissed him on the cheek, reality smacked her on the arse.

  Jake owned a home and the woman lived nearby. She brought him food and cared for his beasts. By what she could see of his home, Jake was a man of means, and not a mere blacksmith. Any young woman would find him attractive.

  Shivering, she feared scaring him away from the quest. Shutting her eyes, she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. No sense glaring at the man, even though the terror still lingered.

 
She inhaled, and fought the anxiety that she might fall for a man at the same time her life could end.

  Verra’ soon, if my mission goes awry.

  She promised herself that the sorcerer would die, before he had the chance to hurt anyone else she loved. Haven called such beliefs facts. Facts were truths. Dorcas predicted they had not seen the last of the man.

  Dorcas built magical wards around the Keith and Gunn strongholds. They had obviously not lasted forever.

  Even as peace and happiness surrounded her family, she had felt uneasy. Haven and Kirk had married while in Wick. They returned to Kirk’s tower to joyously await the birth of their first bairn, but a cloud hovered over their clan.

  Skye had looked forward to becoming a doting aunt. Her life quickly filled with healing the sick, birthing bairns, and watching for signs of attack. The Gunn clan’s village celebrated autumn with a healthy harvest’s bounty. They ground oats and barley, and baked them into crusty loaves of bannock. Leeks and chicken broth turned into delicious cock-a-leekie soup.

  Other mashed root vegetables, drenched in fresh-churned butter, joined the aromatic steam wafting off slabs of mutton. Villagers and clan leaders supped together on shortbread flavored with caraway seeds.

  The festivities and Highland games went on for days. A wistful need for male companionship grew. With her guard down, and while sipping spiced cider, her brother introduced her to Lethan Falconer of Wick. Had the sweetness of the beverage seduced her into giving the man a chance?

  “Foolish me,” she sighed. She had married Lethan, one of many visiting men to ask her brother for her hand. Lethan was the first man to meet her brother’s approval.

  Considering her marriageable age, and lack of interest in any specific man, Kirk’s insistence on the match was inevitable.

  Had she felt love for Lethan? She hardly knew him, and he had swept her off to his castle on the coast of the North Sea. He had taken her far from her village to a towering structure in dire need of repair.

  Their new home was not as charming as Castle Ruadh and was nearly bereft of servants. Empty stables, and battered fishing vessels, proved she had married below her station. Leaning walls, broken and missing mortar, and a general lack of cleanliness was upsetting, at first.