Forever and Beyond: Highland Hearts Afire - Time Travel Romance
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Forever and Beyond
By
B.J. Scott
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, locations and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. Any actual locations mentioned in this book are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
All rights are retained by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction, sharing, or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Copyright 2017 by B.J. Scott
www.duncurra.com
Cover Design: Earthly Charms
ISBN-10: 1-942623-53-4
ISBN-13: 978-1-942623-53-3
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
About B.J. Scott
More by B.J. Scott
About Duncurra
Other titles published by Duncurra LLC
Dedication
To my husband Steve. Your unwavering love, encouragement, and support make my writing dreams possible.
Acknowledgments:
In addition to my husband and family, I want to thank my awesome Street Team for all their continued support and dedication to getting the word out about my books and for offering suggestions when called upon. Thanks to Debby McCreary PA for your friendship and for keeping me grounded and focused when things get rough. Thanks to Kathryn Lynn Davis for sharing your writing expertise. And a huge thank you to Susan Cusack and all of the staff at Duncurra LLC for the hard work and dedication it takes to get a book published. Finally, I want to thank my readers. Without you, there would be no need for books.
Chapter One
“Would you like a cup of tea while you’re waiting, dear?” The office receptionist — a slender, silver-haired woman in her mid-to-late fifties — peered over the rims of her bifocals.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Katherine MacDonald lied. She was exhausted and trying her utmost to stay awake. She hadn’t slept in over thirty-eight hours and if she didn’t find a place to rest soon, she’d collapse from pure exhaustion. She brought her hand up to her mouth, stifling a yawn and shifted her position on the uncomfortable, straight-backed wooden chair.
Katherine looked at her watch, then scanned the empty waiting room. In the three hours she’d been sitting there, she hadn’t seen a single person enter or leave the office. “I know I didn’t have an appointment, and am sure the solicitors are busy men, but do you think it will be much longer?”
“Nay, dear. But I’m afraid Mr. MacBain and Mr. Murray seldom adhere to a strict schedule. No matter how much I badger them.” The woman chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at the closed door, then returned her attention to Katherine. “Are you sure you wouldna like some tea? It’s a fine Scottish blend.”
“Positive.” Katherine smiled. “But I’d kill for a hot bath and a soft bed.”
The secretary laughed. “I’m afraid tea is the best I can do, dear. But I can imagine you must be exhausted after your long trip. Hopefully it willna be much longer.”
After waiting at JFK International on standby for nearly fourteen hours, hoping for a cancelation, she got lucky. Or so she thought. Forced to endure a cramped, five hour, red-eye flight in economy class, next to a large man who snored and repeatedly passed flatulence, was bad enough, but when Katherine arrived in Scotland, she learned the airline had lost her luggage. She wished she could have skipped this meeting and checked into a hotel. But that would make it too easy for Ethan Cochran to make good on his threat to track her down and come after her. He had connections, so borders, or even oceans wouldn’t hinder his search.
Instead, Katherine found herself waiting in the office of MacBain and Murray. Her recently deceased great-aunt Agnes retained the Scottish legal firm to act as the executors of her will, in which Katherine was named the lone beneficiary. She was fortunate they had an opening when she called and agreed to see her on such short notice.
Upon Agnes’s death, the solicitors sent Katherine a financial statement, showing a bank balance of forty-two pounds, along with pictures of a large, ramshackle, stone cottage in desperate need of repairs, and the several acres of unkempt land on which it sat. Since the estate of her spinster aunt didn’t amount to much, she hadn’t pursued the issue when first contacted and had never bothered mentioning the meager windfall to Ethan. Something she was thankful for now.
She dragged her hand across her brow, pondering her current situation. Was she insane for putting her life on hold and flying half way across the world? No. She was crazy for getting romantically involved with her boss in the first place. She knew better than to mix business with her personal life, and learned her lesson the hard way.
Just thinking about the man caused her skin to crawl and a knot of trepidation to twist her belly. It was hard to believe she’d ever thought they had a future together. A womanizing rogue by reputation, Ethan swore that was all in the past, and she was the only woman he wanted in his life. But they didn’t call the world renowned advertising executive The Chameleon of Madison Avenue for nothing. And while he presented a suave, debonair, carefree demeanor to everyone he met, including Katherine, behind closed doors, he’d turned ou
t to be the master of deception. Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was more in keeping with his personality. A serious drug and alcohol problem, a violent temper, and a jealous, possessive streak a mile long were among his best kept secrets.
In need of a stretch, Katherine rose and wandered to the window. Upon catching her reflection in the polished pane of glass, she touched her bruised cheek, a stark reminder of her last encounter with Ethan. The vow she’d live to regret it if she ever tried to leave, echoed in her head.
Given the severity of the altercation, it was a wonder a bruised face was all she had to show for it. That she walked away was a miracle in itself. She’d never seen a man so irate and out of control. And all because she danced with his partner at the company party.
It was George’s birthday and they’d done nothing wrong. For Ethan to fly off the handle and accuse them of having an affair in front of everyone, including his partner’s pregnant wife, was totally uncalled for, not to mention false.
Katherine balled her fists at her side. There were two things she couldn’t abide, a lying cheater or an abusive partner. Being hit once was enough and she swore it was the first and last time he’d ever lay hand to her. But she should have waited for him to calm down before announcing she was breaking their engagement.
“Did you know your aunt well?” the receptionist asked.
Katherine jumped. Startled back to the present, she faced the woman. “I beg your pardon?
“Were you close to your aunt?” The receptionist smiled. “While a recluse, I’m told she was quite a colorful character. It’s a shame she never married or had any children.”
“No. I didn’t know her well.” Katherine sucked in a cleansing breath to settle her nerves before continuing. “When I was seven-years-old, Aunt Agnes paid a visit to my family’s New England home. Unfortunately, it was the only time we met. But my maternal grandmother, Margaret, who was my aunt’s only sister, often said I was the spitting-image of Agnes when she was a child. Even though I inherited my father’s dark hair.”
“You must have been a very comely bairn. I’m told your aunt was quite breathtaking.”
The heat of embarrassment rose in Katherine’s cheeks. She wasn’t fishing for compliments. “Aunt Agnes was much lovelier than I could ever hope to be.” She closed her eyes, picturing her great-aunt’s Titian hair piled high on her head, her wide green eyes, and sweet, yet mischievous smile. To say they looked alike was an exaggeration as far as Katherine was concerned.
She’d never considered herself to be a beautiful woman by most modern standards. While Katherine prided herself in being physically fit, her slender — almost boyish figure — lack of buxom feminine curves, her aversion for too much makeup, passable facial features, and the dusting of freckles across her nose was far from model material. She saw herself as average looking, more like the girl-next-door than a raving beauty. A woman most men smiled at, asked out for a drink, but never longed to possess. Eye-candy she wasn’t.
She’d often wondered why Ethan asked her to marry him. Especially when he could have any beautiful Manhattan debutant of his choosing. Was it her intelligence, ingenuity, and keen knack for business that intrigued him? Or was it her reluctance to fall for his charm when they first met? He often fixated on things that were out of his reach. And with her guarded attitude toward relationships, she did present a challenge.
Her relationship history was far from impressive. True, she had her share of dates while in University, but none of them amounted to much more than a movie or two, a dinner out or a coffee at the University commissary. It wasn’t because the potential for something more was lacking, but finishing her education and the drive to succeed in her chosen profession overshadowed her desire for fun and frivolity — the very things on which many young women her age thrived. Structure, hard work, and responsibility were traits her father instilled in her from the time she was very young. But there were times when Katherine secretly wished she had just a touch of adventure in her life. Wondered what it would be like to throw caution to the wind, to act upon a whim, and not analyze everything to death. To be less like her parents and more like Aunt Agnes was reputed to be — a free spirit, who took life by the horns, didn’t care what people thought about her, and lived her life the way she wanted.
She smiled, remembering the wonderful tales Agnes told about the faeries, kelpies, selkies, and other fae creatures who occupied the Highland forests and waterways when she came to visit. But they were just that, stories meant to entertain children and those foolish enough to believe in superstition, romance, and happily-ever-after endings. Oh how she wanted to believe, but there were no guarantees in life, you had to work for what you wanted, and happiness could be snuffed out in a heartbeat. This she knew first hand.
“So your mam was a Grant, I take it?” The receptionist licked the seal of a rose-colored envelope and pressed it closed before adding it to a pile of outgoing mail in front of her.
Her question interrupted Katherine’s musing. She had never been one for small talk with strangers, but she decided it was better than sitting there in silence or thinking about Ethan. “My maternal grandmother was Agnes’s younger sister. She was a Grant until she moved to the United States and married my grandfather, Harold Lindsay. They had one daughter, Moira, and she was my mother.”
“I see,” the receptionist stroked her chin. “And your da? Is he an American?”
“He was born in Hartford, Connecticut, but he had Scottish roots too. His name was Hunter MacDonald. He was an architect in Boston, and—” Katherine bowed her head.
“Was, dear?” the receptionist asked.
“My parents both died in an automobile accident when I was sixteen. They were hit by a drunk driver. After that, I went to live with my grandmother, but she has also passed on.” Katherine wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, then coughed. Talking about her family always caused her throat to thicken with emotion.
The receptionist rose, rounded her desk, and handed Katherine a tissue. “I’m sorry for your loss. According to Ms. Grant’s file, you were listed as the only beneficiary of her will. I’m assuming from what you’ve said, you were also an only bairn, and there are no other living relatives on your mother’s side of the family.”
Katherine almost choked on the words. “That’s correct. I had no brothers or sisters.” Something else she’d missed out of and wished had been different.
“Are you married, lass?”
Katherine balled the tissue in her fist, her gaze fixed on the floor. She swallowed hard. “And there is no one of significance in my life.”
“I’m surprised a lovely lass like you hasna married,” the receptionist said.
When her parents died, followed by her grandmother two years later, Katherine was left alone. They’d been her whole life and she missed them terribly, the deep ache of loss devouring her heart and leaving her chest an empty void.
Determined to guard herself from further pain, she concentrated on her studies, vowing never to fall in love. She had plenty of friends and acquaintances, but being alone came with its own set of drawbacks. And while there was something to be said about solitude, privacy, and independence, those things came with a price. Tired of feeling isolated and lonely, she realized it wasn’t enough. She wanted more and was willing to drop her shields and take a chance on love. Unfortunately, the one time she broke her hard and fast rule of never getting into a relationship proved to be a disaster.
“Is this your first trip to Scotland?” the receptionist asked.
Her train of thought broken by the question, Katherine smiled. “Yes. I always planned to visit, but never got the chance.” And, she wouldn’t be here now if she wasn’t trying to escape from her abusive fiancé.
After graduating from university with honors and a Master’s Degree in business administration and marketing, Katherine was thrilled to snag a job with the prestigious Cochran Advertising Agency — leaving her little time for a social life and even less t
ime to think about the fact that she was very much alone. But meeting Ethan changed all that.
Refusing to dwell on her past mistakes or to wallow in self-pity, Katherine rose to her feet and approached the receptionist. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful after Mr. MacBain and Mr. Murray agreed to see me on such short notice, but I was wondering if maybe another time would be more convenient.” She pulled a notebook from her purse and picked a pen from atop the desk and jotted down her cell number. “If they would like to reschedule, they can reach me at this number.”
The phone rang and the receptionist answered it. “Aye Mr. Murray.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle and smiled at Katherine. “If you can abide a wee longer, they’ll be ready for you soon.”
“Wonderful.” Katherine returned to her chair and sat. But unfortunately a few minutes to MacBain and Murray seemed like yet another lifetime. Her eyelids growing heavy, she rested her forehead upon her hand. “Maybe if I shut my eyes for just a minute, I’ll feel better,” she mumbled.
~ * ~
A warm breeze caressed her cheek and Katherine tipped her face toward the sun, hoping to catch the warmth of its rays. Lifting the hem of her ivory-colored gown she dipped her bare toes into the loch, then withdrew them quickly, the water still chilly from winter’s grip.
With arms outstretched, she spun full circle, taking in the panoramic beauty of the burn, the glen, and mountains around her. Fragrant heather dotted the brae and meadow, along with bluebells and other assorted wildflowers. Highland cows and sheep grazed on sweet tender shoots of grass and a pair of hawks circled in unison overhead, in what she guessed was a mating ritual as old as time.
Spring had always been Katherine’s favorite time of year, a time for fresh starts and new beginnings. And this one hadn’t disappointed, proving to be more glorious than others she recalled.
“I nary tire of looking at you, lass. You always manage to take my breath away.” A warrior wearing a chainmail tunic, padded gambeson, trews, and leather gauntlets rode into the clearing on a black destrier. He quickly dismounted and strode toward her with purpose. “Have you been here long, ma gaol?”