Highlander's Charm

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “I adapted to the future, and to the country we’d arrived in. I would have preferred to return to Scotland, but I didn’t have the means nor could I move you from your specialized care. I was without a birth certificate or passport, and I had to claim refugee status. In those first few years, I formed friendships and accepted aid where I could. I was most grateful to have a roof over our heads and food on the table. I even attended evening classes and learnt to speak without the brogue. By the time you were at preschool, I’d finally secured a job and no longer needed any benefits.”

  “You should have said something once I was old enough. I’m sure I would have listened.” She dragged in a steadying breath. “Is John MacIan really my father? He never perished at sea?” She needed to hear it again.

  “He’s really your father. Before your birth, he sailed to Skye to aid our MacDonald kin. He didn’t care to leave Marybelle, but I promised him I’d look after her. Soon after he left, Marybelle began bleeding, and then her labor pains started and the healer could do nothing to stop them. After two grueling days, she gave birth to you then slipped away from us. You were more than two months premature, and so small I was able to hold you in palms of my hands. I knew death would come for you too, and my heart broke. I fell to my knees, desperate not to lose you as well. With all my heart and soul, I pleaded and wished for you to live.”

  “That’s what started it? A wish?” She rubbed Nanna’s shaky hands. “No more secrets now. We share everything.”

  “Yes, and my cries were heard and a portal opened.” She hooked her gold necklace out from under the silk edging of her bodice. The engraved disk held the image of the unicorn as Margaret’s did. “Margaret and I spoke of this, and I told you the tales as a child. There truly is folklore surrounding those born under a falling star, that they hold strong magic in their blood. That magic though will only rise when their desperation is great. With your silver eyes, you too were born under a falling star, and that night when I made my wish your eyes sparkled, as if you too understood the need to live. Then everything darkened and stars burst around us. We were transported to Sydney’s hospital where technology abounded and babies born as early as you were could be saved. You lived because of my wish, and I would never take that back.”

  “A desperate wish to find you returned me to the past too.” She gripped the charm in her pocket and it heated and calmed her racing heartbeat. “Calum has one of these charms as well, gifted to him by a fortuneteller. In your note you said it was a MacIan heirloom from the 1500s.”

  “I’ll explain everything. I told Margaret the bare minimum, and only what she needed to know for me to ensure her trust. After I flew into Edinburgh from Sydney, the strangest sensations began to batter me. I felt driven to visit the markets, to have a reading done. When I walked into the fortuneteller’s stall, she looked at me as if she’d been awaiting my arrival. She said she’d been here in the woods the night of your birth and felt the disruption in time. She’d traveled from the past the moment she was certain I’d returned to Scotland’s soil. Her magic is far greater than anything I’ve ever seen, and the wish I’d made was nothing compared to what she’d done. She gave me your coin and told me to send it to you with the instruction to never let it go. She said she’d also traveled through time to see Calum and given him his charm. Both coins were linked, through time and their true holders’ souls.”

  “I’ve felt the depth of my bond with Calum.” She squeezed Nanna’s hand. “Carry on.”

  “She said it was time for your return, and that the past must be set to rights. She told me to make a wish, but not to tamper with what she’d set in motion. Your wish had to be spoken from deep within you when your desperation was at its greatest. I couldn’t tell you of her foretelling. That night I returned to my room, I made a wish, just as I’d done that first time.”

  “That’s how you arrived at Duart?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t understand why I’d arrived at the MacLean stronghold until after I met Calum. He was the grounding link between us and our travel, except I couldn’t tell him of what had occurred either, or stay, not when I was a MacIan. I was so worried I would be found out. Confiding in Margaret gave me the means to ensure you’d know where I’d gone to. She aided me in leaving, as she promised she’d aid you.”

  “She did. What happened after you arrived here?”

  “There were many clan members who recognized me from the time before I disappeared. They welcomed me home, but were beyond curious about where I’d been. Twenty-one years without any word is a very long time, but I kept it simple, explaining I’d traveled to the village of Sydney where my Cunningham kin resided, and that in all these years I’d not been able to return. Being the laird’s mother, none have gainsaid my decision to speak to John first.”

  “I can’t believe I have a father.”

  “Believe it.” She sat on the chair beside her. “Except there is still much to be done. Your future must be fully realigned before all can be set right. You and Calum will aid each other. He is the one you’re bound to.”

  “You mean it’s not set right by my arrival here?”

  “No. You’re still soul bound to Calum, and if you look deep within your heart, you know he will come for you.”

  “Since the first time we met, we’ve had visions. We handfasted last night, Nanna.”

  “The two of you are wed?” She patted her chest. “I expected it, but that was fast.”

  “I couldn’t deny him, and I wanted to be bound to him in the same way. Except we argued this morning. I told him who I truly was, and he was furious. He told me I’d deceived him. That was when I made another desperate wish to find you.” She clasped her charm against her heart, needing its solid presence to calm her. An image of Calum crystalized in her mind and the ferocity of his grief pummeled her. Searching, he dove deep within the murky waters of the bay.

  “Relax. You’re here now. You’ve returned to Mingary and me.” Nanna wrapped an arm around her shoulders, enveloping her in her wonderful lavender scent. “The one thing I’ve learnt in all these years is anything’s possible. One simply has to look inside their heart for direction.”

  “I miss him, even though I wished to leave him and find you. He’s loyal and honorable. Except he never wished to wed one of his enemy.”

  “Is that what your heart tells you?”

  “Nanna, I’m not only a MacIan, but his arch enemy’s daughter.”

  “Yes, but not all is lost.” Nanna tucked a length of her drying hair behind her ear. “I’ll aid you as I can, but for now we must await your father’s return. Even I’ve not seen him, and I long for it.”

  “You said below-stairs he was about the king’s business in Edinburgh.”

  “Yes, and he should have returned by now, but recently we received word of Donald and Angus MacDonald’s capture. The king called John as a witness to the feud, and he can’t leave until he’s permitted to.”

  “Can we travel to him?”

  “A strong escort would be needed, and that’s not possible while Ian needs his warriors here to defend Mingary. We have to remain.”

  A knock sounded and Nanna rose and bid the servants to enter. Two maids and two lads hustled forward, each carrying a steaming pail of water. Another lass carried a tray and set it on the side table, while Meg crossed to the burgundy curtained ambry and hung two gowns.

  Nanna oversaw the filling of the tub then added a few drops of scented oil and a sprinkle of dried petals.

  Lila wandered toward the large bed and fingered the rich blue velvet canopy sweeping down the four-poster and onto the polished wooden floors. This was her true time. She’d been born in the past, yet never lived in it. Shocking, yet amazing.

  “That’s perfect.” Nanna clapped her hands. “Thank you, everyone. You may all leave.” She shut the door behind them. “Come, Lila. There’s a warm meal. You must be hungry.”

  “Starving, and rather water logged, but I still can’t wait to get into that bath.�
� She sat and poked her nose into the steam wafting from the bowl of chunky seafood stew. “This smells delicious.” She nabbed a slice of crusty bread, dipped it, and took a hearty bite. Warmth raced to her belly. “Could you tell me more about this feud John’s gone to give his account of? I’ve heard Calum and Margaret’s views of it.”

  “Of course. King James attempts to bring order, and the chiefs continue to hold onto the old ways. They have no desire to give up what is rightfully theirs. I’m afraid this time we’ve arrived in is one of great unrest.”

  “Do you know what happens? Particularly to John?”

  “No. When we first arrived in Sydney, information wasn’t as readily available, and even when technology advanced and more history came online, only the most remarkable accounts were recorded. John was rarely mentioned, except for the massacre following his nuptials. There is certainly nothing to say how his personal fight with MacLean ended.” She knelt before the tub and swirled her hand through the water. “This is the perfect temperature. Come and have your bath.”

  “Calum expects an attack to come from our MacIan clan soon.” She shed her damp gown, draped it over the back of the wooden chair and sank into the glorious water. “Though he’s not aware John has traveled to Edinburgh, or if he is, he certainly never said anything to me.”

  “It’s not John’s intention to attack, but to ensure our defenses remain strong along our coastline. Those are the instructions he left with Ian. This past week further aid has arrived from Angus MacDonald’s second, and a call-to-arms not long before that saw a dozen men arrive from Kilchoan. More calls will be made until Ian is satisfied we have a large enough defensive force.” Nanna passed her the soap.

  “Calum will think the clan ready for war.” She lathered the soap then worked the vanilla scented suds gently through her matted hair.

  “That he might.” Nanna raised her hands towards the warmth of the fire. “Tell me more about Calum. I only spoke to him once or twice.”

  She rubbed her chest. “It feels as if I hold a piece of him locked away inside me.”

  “Yours is a match which shouldn’t be denied.”

  “Bound or not, how can what Calum and I have ever survive this time?”

  “Time is a fickle thing, but we are not. If there is a way, you’ll find it, and I shall help you. All must be set to rights.”

  “Thank you for saving me, Nanna.” Sloshing water, she leaned against the edge of the tub. “The wish you made the night of my birth gave me life.”

  “I love you too.” She knelt and hugged her, uncaring she got wet. “But one day you shall spread your wings and fly. That’s how things are meant to be, and even though you are John MacIan’s daughter, Calum is still yours.”

  “Yes, he’s mine.” She knew it to the depths of her soul.

  * * * *

  Drenched, Calum paced the thin cliff ledge hours later as night fell. Since Lila had fallen into the loch, he’d done naught but search the waters and coastline. He strode to the beach, the ache in his chest so deep and unforgiving.

  She belonged with him, and he’d been rash to fight with her. MacIan or not, she was his wife, and he should have listened to her concerns. He’d never make that mistake again.

  White-capped waves rolled in and Colin emerged, slogging through the surf toward him. His brother had tracked him down, though he’d only arrived an hour past.

  “’Tis too dark to continue.” Colin clasped his shoulder. “I cannae see a thing, and with so many hours passing, it does no’ look good.”

  “Aye, but I willnae believe her dead. She lives. I feel it.” He touched his heart. “She is mine and I’ll never let her go.”

  “Magic brought her here, and magic has clearly taken her away again.”

  “I was instructed to keep her safe from the sea.” Calum opened his clenched fist and rubbed his charm. It had drawn blood from his tight hold. “I failed her, but I willnae again. I ride for Tobermory at first light.”

  “Then I’ll ride with you. Arthur watches Duart. He’ll ensure all is well.”

  “Ardnamurchan was her destination, and if a wish took her from me, then that’s where she’ll be. We’ll search the coastal villages. I willnae rest until I find her.”

  “And I’ll guard your back.” Colin gripped Calum’s forearms in a firm hold. “Virtue mine honor.”

  “By death or life, we stand firm together.” He returned his brother’s strong forearm hold.

  Never would he be able to halt Colin from joining him. He would need his brother’s strong sword-arm and steadying presence if he were to find his wife and bring her home.

  Lila was his heart and soul, and peace would only come once he had her back.

  Chapter 7

  Lila scrubbed her gritty eyes then stretched and pushed her hands out from under the warmth of her bed covers. A new day dawned after another restless night spent with Calum infiltrating her dreams. The past fortnight, she’d had visions of him, and his frustration and worry had plagued her. Their bond had deepened over the past weeks, their separation not making an ounce of difference.

  The door creaked open and Nanna peered in. “Good. You’re awake.”

  “Come in.”

  “The seamstress finished this gown. You should wear it today.” Nanna bustled across with a mass of silvery-blue fabric in hand.

  “She works tirelessly.” She tossed the covers and scooted out. The seamstress was always pinning one fabric or another on her and she now had the most amazing wardrobe.

  “I also bring good news.” Nanna smiled and her eyes lit up.

  Her heart leapt. “Is it about John?”

  “Yes. A scout returned during the night with word of your father’s coming arrival, and this morning the tower guardsmen sighted his traveling party on the hills. He’s almost here.” She passed her a pair of woolen stockings. “Put this on first.”

  “I thought it would never happen.” Finally, she was going to meet her father. She bounced onto one foot, scrunched up the hosiery leg and shoved her toes in.

  “Are you excited?” She smoothed out the silk gown then held it out.

  “You know I am, but I’m not sure what kind of relationship we’ll have. It certainly won’t be the typical father-daughter one.” She flung her ivory cotton nightrail aside, slid her arms into the gown’s long sleeves and dipped her head as Nanna eased the shimmery fabric over top. The layers slithered down her body and brushed the polished floorboards. “What’s expected of me? How do I address him?”

  “Just be yourself and don’t fret.”

  “He’s going to have so many questions, and time travel isn’t exactly all that believable.”

  “Yes. Our news won’t be easy to hear, but he must know the truth.”

  “That’s a great plan. I’m all for honesty.” She seized her charm from the side table and pocketed it. “Have you got a plan B though?”

  “Plan B is still to speak the truth.”

  Shouts sounded outside and Nanna grasped her navy skirts and hurried to the window.

  She raced after her and gripped Nanna’s shoulder.

  The portcullis rose from within the stone gate, the clunky sound of its chains reverberating throughout the keep. Horses’ hooves pounded then a score of riders galloped in and hauled their mounts to a stop. The warrior at the party’s head bounded from his destrier in leather pants and a fur vest over a dark linen shirt. His thick brown hair sprinkled with gray was messed by the wind, and more than a week’s growth of stubble covered his jaw. “Is that him?”

  “Yes, he looks older, stronger but older. He’s the image of his father now. Your grandfather passed away five years before you were born. John led the clan from the age of twenty.”

  John turned to Ian and clapped him on the back. The two conferred, their voices lost within the excited chatter of their surrounding clan welcoming the warriors home. Then John lifted his gaze and found them. Such piercing green eyes, the color of the grassy moors.

  �
��I don’t look anything like him, not the hair, eyes or face.”

  “No, you look just like your mother. Marybelle had black hair and dainty facial features, as you do.”

  An auburn haired woman in an emerald woolen riding habit called out to John from atop her horse and he crossed and assisted her down. Once on her feet, she pulled her brown fur cloak tighter about her, warding off the chilly autumn air. Her nose and cheeks glowed pink from her vigorous ride, and her breath puffed in a fog from her mouth.

  “Is that Janet Campbell, Nanna?” The MacLean chief’s mother appeared around fifty, only a few years older than her father’s forty-six.

  “Yes. She’s the one who saved John’s life.” Nanna clutched her hand as John escorted Janet inside. “We must go.”

  “Do I look all right?” She fussed with her hair.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Nanna pinched her cheeks then hurried out the door.

  She chased Nanna downstairs and into the inner courtyard. The enclosed area was abuzz with their clan, a stream of them making their way toward the great hall across the paved stones.

  Ian moved in beside them, his towering form blocking what little sunshine peeked through the thick patchwork of gray clouds. “The laird awaits you both in his solar. He didnae wish your reunion to take place afore all.”

  “Thank you, Ian.” Nanna nodded briskly at the warrior who always had his watchful eyes on them.

  They entered the great hall. Trestle tables held stacked platters of cooked meat, boiled eggs, and bread. Serving maids carried trays holding steaming bowls of oats, while the returning warriors jerked out the wooden benches and sat. Just as well, her father had opted for a private meeting. She had no desire to greet him for the first time in this crowded hall.