Highland Defiance (The MacLomain Series- Early Years)

by Purington, Sky

  “I’m sorry?” Mildred asked. “I traveled back in time over a thousand years and the timing isn’t right?”

  “Nay,” Iosbail said. “You traveled back too early… to a period too late.”

  Aghast, she swung her attention to Iosbail. “Approximately eight hundred and ninety-two years to be exact. You mean to say that wasn’t far enough?”

  “Precisely,” Adlin said.

  He appeared almost relieved at her quick revelation until she turned troubled eyes his way. “So if I’m not on time, or too early, I mean too late, are you still to lead me to my betrothed?”

  “Aye and Nay,” he said, a slight shrug to his shoulders.

  “Aye and Nay,” Mildred repeated, looking between them. “Would somebody please give me a straight answer?”

  “Oh, straight answers are always overrated.” Iosbail stretched, almost as if she were growing tired with the conversation.

  “Overrated,” Mildred mouthed silently, eyes round and furious with them both.

  “What she means to say is that there really is no understandable straight answer to any of this, lassie,” Adlin said.

  “Never is,” Iosbail agreed.

  These two were impossible. Beyond furious, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why am I here now. Who fouled up?”

  Iosbail chuckled. Adlin attempted to take her hand but she pulled it away. So Adlin said, “Sometimes the Fates rearrange things. It’s hard to say why but they always have their reasons.”

  Mildred felt weak but didn’t let them know. Slowly, carefully, head high, she made her way to the bed and sat. “I don’t belong here. Obviously. If the Fates didn’t mean to bring me here now, I’d really like to go home.”

  Even as she said it a new reality swamped her. Even if Iosbail and Adlin implied as much, if the Fates didn’t mean to bring her here now, when did they mean to bring her here?

  Adlin’s eyes though curious, were also compassionate. When Mildred met them she saw not a man intent on making her believe but a man full of regret. With the steadiest voice she could muster she asked, “What’s next for me. I shouldn’t have to guess. You both know what I want. You both know that I’m petrified right now.”

  They sat, one on her left, the other on the right. Adlin said, “Know that no matter what, we don’t want any of this for you.”

  Mildred ignored the shiver that raked her body and focused on the slight feeling left in her fingers. She focused on the cool breeze whisking through the room and the way the sun slid past the rawhide to light slices of the furs on the floor. Adlin’s strong hand slid over hers and offered warmth. His thigh fell against hers, offering security.

  Still.

  “What’s become of me there,” she whispered. “In my own time.”

  “Your story hasn’t changed,” Adlin said. “As of this moment, your story is still the same.”

  Mildred welcomed his touch but looked at the hearth rather than at Iosbail and Adlin. “How is that possible?”

  Adlin squeezed her hand slightly. “Because you were raised the way you were.”

  She should flail, scream out, and rebel. These two had all the answers and she was in the dark. Everything about this situation was against her will. Regardless, good sense dictated that she be brave, show courage. After all, she wasn’t exactly daft when it came to magic and fate. “I should stay then. I should see whatever this is through.”

  Iosbail squeezed her free hand. “Glad you said that. But now’s not the time.” She looked at Adlin. “This was just a wee introduction.”

  “What?” Even as she said it, calm passed through her. She knew it was magic from them both. Shivers rippled down Mildred’s spine. Fear all but vanished, her reservations non-existent. Her eyes shot to Adlin’s. His eyes met hers. A far different sort of awareness tore through her but she ignored it.

  She knew magic… had since childhood. He was magic. Yet he was more than that. Adlin was magic and man and someone she realized in that instant she honestly desired. Regardless, this reality, him, was too much too soon. Frightened, she said, “Get me home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Before she had a chance to pull free from his grasp, he cupped her cheek and his anguished eyes met hers. “I’d do anything to keep you here, Mildred, anything to keep you here with me.”

  Would he? Why?

  About to respond, to be strong, she talked. Spoke.

  But it didn’t matter.

  She was already gone.

  Chapter Three

  “I don’t want to be here anymore,” she repeated, groggy.

  “Well, neither do I,” someone said, his voice strong.

  She struggled for recognition. It wasn’t Adlin. She blinked several times. Jim? Instead of a small stone chamber the steel mill rose behind him. Panicked, Mildred tried to move.

  “It’s okay.” Jim had his hands on her shoulders. “You passed out for a moment is all. Take a minute. Breathe.”

  As her vision cleared she realized that Iosbail and Adlin were gone. In their place, her sister and brother, David and Jim. How was this possible? Air came fast and furious. She started to breathe too fast. Her hands and feet went numb.

  Frustrated, Jim lifted her to a sitting position. His intent eyes came close and he asked, “You able to pull yourself through?”

  She wanted to respond, she really did.

  “Fine.” A light slap to her cheek.

  “How dare you!”

  “That’s right,” Jim said.

  “You’ve got balls,” she rasped.

  “Focus, Mildred. You with us or not? I’ll smack you again unless you respond. Harder next time.”

  Focusing was hard. But she knew that voice. It wasn’t Adlin. It was Jim. “Off,” she whispered, trying to focus. She put her hand over her mouth, shook her head and leaned back against whatever held her up.

  “Enough!”

  That was Irene’s voice and she was mad… and concerned.

  “Everyone get to work. I’ve got her.”

  Knowing her sister was nearby felt soothing. Exhausted and weak, she leaned against Irene. How was she here? How were they all here? But she was so tired it didn’t matter.

  “I’ll have someone clock you in as sick,” Irene whispered. “It’ll cost a day’s wage but you’re not fit.”

  Even as she was shoved back into their car, Mildred felt guilt. To lose a day’s wage was too much right now. As she flopped across the back seat she tried to deny it but her limbs were done for, never mind her mouth.

  The car lurched forward.

  And Mildred passed out.

  “Mildred.”

  “Tell me the truth, Adlin.”

  “Mildred.”

  “I’m scared. Tell me the truth.”

  “Mildred, it’s me, Jonathan.”

  With a sharp woosh, she released pent up air from her lungs and opened her eyes. Not to a highland chamber nearly a thousand years old but to the attic of her bedroom.

  “Adlin!” she cried and sat upright.

  “It’s me, Jonathan, your brother.”

  She tried to focus. Where was Adlin? He’d been right there. But he was gone. Overwhelmed, she slowly leaned back.

  “Mildred, can you hear me?”

  That was Irene’s voice. Of course she could hear her.

  I need to lift my hand. I need to be coherent. But the thought didn’t seem to connect with the brain. How could she be there then here?

  Because you can be, lass.

  “Adlin?” she cried and shot up.

  “No,” her siblings said and pushed her down.

  Though Mildred moved her lips, nothing came from her mouth. Everything seemed blank and desolate. Everything seemed without purpose. The blinds were drawn. Candles were lit.

  “Keep her down.”

  Keep me down? Mildred struggled. She knew that voice. Mama?

  “Now,” the voice whispered.

  Then there was nothing.

  “Keep her down!
”

  Mildred screamed and flailed, unable to do anything else. Anger burned and bubbled. She wanted death for all…needed it. Faces became unfamiliar. Her inner voice became unfamiliar.

  “Shhh.”

  Her mother’s whisper was nearby. Soft and reassuring, her Mama had never left her. Though it felt a million pounds rested on her arms, she lifted her hand.

  A strong hand grasped hers. Startled, Mildred tried to pull back.

  “It’s me sis. Relax.”

  She shivered. “Jonathan?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” His face and body came close to hers. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” Mildred held onto him. “I’m not.”

  “You will be. Promise,” he whispered.

  Sobs raked her and she held on tight. How could she have gone from one reality to the next so easily? Impossible. But good. This is what she wanted, right? Then why did she feel so empty? “I passed out…dreamed.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “Mama?”

  “Right here, darling.”

  As reality became more and more acute, Mildred realized that she lay in her bed with her mother, Irene and Jonathan nearby. Her mother leaned in close and asked, “What is my name, Mildred?”

  Mildred closed her eyes. They were trying to make sure she had her wits about her. Good enough. She opened her eyes and replied in a surprising even voice, “Your name is Sarah. I’m okay now. Just confused.”

  Eyes wide and concerned, her family stared down. Her mother spoke. “Tell us what you’re confused about, Mildred.”

  “Water. Please.” The last thing she wanted to tell them was what she’d been through. Granted, she’d wanted to scream it originally. No more. Now she wanted to keep it secret. After all, it was insanity. Perhaps she’d dreamt it all? So she repeated, “Water.”

  “Of course.” Irene handed her a cup.

  She took long, deep gulps and glanced down to see she no longer wore a dress but her work clothes.

  “Finish up. We need to talk.”

  One look at her mother’s face told Mildred that there would be no secrets after all. How could there be when this all clearly had to do with her family’s unusual history. Mildred nodded, handed the cup to Irene and looked at her mother. “The lineage, witchcraft, this is all part of it, isn’t it?”

  “Of course,” Sarah said, her eyes easily going from soft to a tempered inquisitive. “What happened to you? Where have you been?”

  “Nowhere,” she said automatically. All the while she knew that her mother knew. Did Irene and Jonathan? One look at their faces told her no.

  “She’s fine,” Sarah said. “Go downstairs. Give us a few minutes.”

  Jonathan and Irene looked unsure but one quick nod sent them on their way. Mildred handed the cup back to her mother and worked at familiarizing herself with… herself. Her body felt normal again. As if everything she’d felt hadn’t happened. As if she hadn’t traveled through time. In fact, had she? No. Impossible. Somehow she’d dreamt it all. Everything had been a dream. It had to have been.

  “Do you remember everything I taught you?”

  Mildred looked at her mother. “About what?”

  “About being gifted.”

  With a sniff, she responded, “Yes. That I am the least gifted. There wasn’t much to teach.”

  Sarah’s hand slid into hers. “That doesn’t make you the least wanted.”

  “Wanted by what?” she shot without meaning to. Lord though, was she angry. Her whole life her parents had been honest about the fact that their children were witches, she of course being the least powerful. The attic that Irene and she called their bedroom had always held the most power. How was it that she—the least powerful—had not only traveled back but to a place so far from this attic?

  Highly unlikely.

  “You overthink,” Sarah said softly.

  “No.” She shook her head. “You knew about Scotland all along, especially the MacLomains.” Mildred stood, though a bit shaky she walked to the far side of the room and back before she said, “I thought it ended with you and Da. I don’t understand.”

  Her Mom clenched and unclenched her fists. “No. It’d only just begun.”

  “What?” She whispered. “How is that possible?”

  As she sunk down onto the bed her mother’s expression grew distant. “Because your Da wasn’t the Chieftain.”

  Mildred narrowed her eyes. “No, Adlin is!”

  “Yes,” her mother whispered absently. “Adlin.”

  Her heart skipped a few beats. “So you know Adlin?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Mildred clasped her mother’s hands. “He’s real, isn’t he? Adlin is real? I didn’t dream him up?”

  Her mother shook her head and closed her eyes. “You couldn’t dream up Adlin if you tried. Just I never thought he… you.”

  “Mama.” She wrapped an arm around Sarah’s shoulders and oddly enough found strength in the odd exchange. “Adlin’s okay. He’s not bad. I’m sure of it. But I don’t understand… was he an old man when you met him?”

  “Oh no, dear, he was a young man. Very handsome.”

  “But how can that be… he’s still a young man in 1050. Da would have been...”

  Mildred trailed off. Her Da would’ve been in his early fifties when she traveled back seeing how when he’d met her mama he was from 1025 Scotland having been born in 998. Funny, the last thing she’d been worried about was finding him.

  Sarah shrugged and murmured, “Perhaps the magic.”

  Pretty amazing magic! But that was the least of her concerns right now. As much as she feared all of this, Mildred couldn’t help but remember the man her mother seemed so afraid of, nor could she forget how drawn she was to him. “Adlin won’t hurt me, Mama.”

  “Not yet.” Her mother’s emotions seemed to flip in an instant and her steady, dry eyes looked at Mildred. “What did he say? Why did he pull you back?”

  Suddenly a young, defensive daughter again, Mildred shrugged loosely. “Nothing much. He just said he was supposed to help me get somewhere.”

  “Somewhere? That’s vague.”

  “To my betrothed,” she said haphazardly. “That’s it.”

  “Your betrothed?” Sarah stood and started pacing, deep in thought before she turned to Mildred. “He wanted to lead you to your betrothed?” The pacing continued. “That’s not how it works with Adlin. He’s there when you’ve already come in contact with your one true love. He doesn’t ever ‘lead’ a person to their love.”

  The room grew orange with mid-afternoon rays of sun, catching the hem of her mother’s skirts as she continued to pace. Her long, dark hair with wisps of gray shone in the odd lighting. She suddenly stopped pacing and wrung her hands. “There is something different about all of this. You need to tell me everything.”

  No. She didn’t want to. Exhausted, she said, “I’m tired. I need sleep.”

  Though she had many questions she didn’t want to ask them now. Time alone to process her thoughts would be great. How well did her mother actually know Adlin, the man she’d dreamt about for years? Outside of the obvious time-travel aspect, why was the topic so dire?

  Sarah stopped in front of her, arms crossed over her chest. “You need to understand that this is not over. You will be going back.” She shook her head slowly and said, “If Adlin is involved, you will be going back.”

  When Mildred saw her mother’s eyes water she patted the bed beside her. “Sit, Mama. Tell me about how you and Da met. It might help.”

  It wasn’t that Sarah was weak, just too emotional sometimes. Perhaps it was half the reason Mildred felt the need to show herself as strong. But the truth of the matter was… how else should a woman behave when their father wasn’t around anymore but lost somewhere in time. Well, not exactly lost, her Da was somewhere in medieval Scotland and without doubt, with his MacLomain Clan.

  “Oh, you’ve heard this story hundreds of times,” Sarah said, but her cheeks
warmed.

  “Well, in light of things, one more time couldn’t hurt.”

  “I don’t suppose it could.”

  So she retold the story with the unmistakable fondness of a woman in love. Her mother had traveled back to medieval Scotland when young. In her case, the MacLomain she met was away at battle when she arrived. And her arrival, naturally, had been accepted based on Adlin’s explanation that she was a member of one of their numerous clan septs. It’d all been quite romantic and as far as Mildred could tell, far simpler a story than the one in which she currently found herself.

  What was Adlin up to?

  Hours later she lie in her bed alone, staring up at the ceiling with that very question still lodged firmly in her mind. But another question kept niggling at her subconscious. Was the attraction between her and Adlin all in her imagination? It must have been.

  After all, he couldn’t have pulled her back for him… could he have? A strange shiver of awareness rippled through her and she rolled on her side.

  Would she really travel back again? The thought both petrified and thrilled her. Sighing in frustration, she rolled onto her other side and stared out the window. The day was a little too bright and cheery for her current mood, which frustrated her even more. Shouldn’t she be grateful she was safe at home?

  Tap. Tap. Pebbles bounced off the window. Mildred frowned and looked outside. Jim and David waved. With a chuckle, she opened the window and yelled down. “You could have knocked on the front door.”

  “What fun is there in that?” Jim yelled back.

  “How are you feeling?” David asked.

  Mildred shrugged but already felt better knowing her friends had come so soon. “I could use some fresh air.”

  “Then come on. We’ll go for a walk.” This from Jim.

  She grinned, nodded and shut the window. Without doubt, her mother would try to stop her but not if she didn’t know. Though she crept quietly down the stairs, Irene cut her off at the bottom.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I need air,” she whispered. When hesitation crossed Irene’s face, Mildred said, “Please. You know I do better outdoors.”

  Irene eyed her for several long moments before she reluctantly nodded, headed into the kitchen and said, “Now Mama, what can I do to help?”