Highland Pull (Highland Destiny: 2)

by LAURA HARNER

  He realized now he knew very little of the man his brother had grown to be. Stephan had fostered with the MacDougal, a fine clan, and assisted their father in overseeing the nearby village and had begun to manage more of the estate business affairs. He was also a powerful warrior and swordsman.

  Ian had believed until the very moment Gav was in the wagon that he and Stephan were still close, still united in their grief. That had all changed in an instant. He’d heard the intention on the wind; his brother would try to kill him on the return journey. He knew which part of the return trip would lend itself perfectly to ambush. Less than a day’s ride from the Worthington Manor was a copse of trees, surrounded by craggy rocks and caves. The road passed through a densely covered portion for a mile or more. There were many places along that stretch of road that a man could lie in wait, his crossbow at the ready.

  He knew not whether Stephan would wait alone or if he had more assassins employed. He was sure Stephan would not bring a large force, when one or two men would be as effective and harder to spot. It would appear the Comyn left some men behind to try to destroy the clan.

  Ian would gather his select soldiers tonight and they would leave at once, arriving in the area well ahead of Ian and any attacker. They would capture or kill Stephan and any of his assassins. Either way, he would pay for his crimes against their family, against Gabhran.

  Ian arrived at the standing stones, while he’d been reflecting on his brother. Now, it was time to put Stephan out of his thoughts. He was here to say good-bye to Gav, his true brother in so many ways. They’d done everything together for nigh on twenty years now. Now each would go on alone. If the gods were willing, they would ride together again in another life.

  He was grateful Gav had known peace and love with Miranda at the end. Now she would bear his child, and Ian would do everything in his power to see that Gav’s son or daughter would know the fine man their da had been.

  ****

  “I answered your question, and even let you…read me. I asked you three questions and you haven’t answered any, I think it’s your turn now. How about we take turns, you answer one, then I’ll answer one.

  “In case you forgot, I want to know how it is that you know Gabhran’s still alive, why you haven’t asked even once about Lissa, and what exactly is it you know about time travel? I’ll start by telling you about the day I met Gabhran. It was in a courtyard, in a place called New Orleans. Have you ever heard of New Orleans?”

  Alex shook his head, but didn’t say anything. Apparently he would wait for her to continue.

  She looked away, and stared out the window, unsure if her next comment would convince him to trust her or convince him she was insane. The old adage, nothing ventured, nothing gained echoed in her head.

  “That’s because New Orleans is in a country that doesn’t exist in the fourteenth century. It’s called America, and I met Gabhran there in the twenty-first century.” She turned slowly to meet his gaze.

  He met her gaze for an instant, then looked away just as quickly. She saw the tension in the tightening of his jaw, before he sighed and turned back to face her once more. “Aye, lass, I knew Gabhran was in the twenty-first century. Tell me, did you love him there as well?” he asked.

  Much to her chagrin, the strong, kick-ass detective and newly-filled-with-some-kind-of-magick Miranda Close MacLachlan, felt her eyes fill with tears. Before she could regain her composure, she whispered, “Yes.”

  Then the tears began to fall.

  ****

  Stephan stood just outside the ring of stones, hidden by the trees, and raised his crossbow. He could feel the magick of this place, it was all around him. It was a magick he would possess someday. The dark spirit within him flexed and swelled in anticipation of the blood-letting to come and with the strength of Stephan’s dark desires.

  Ian was so predictable, and that made him an easy target. How that fool Gailtry had ever thought that of the two of them, Ian would make the better Druid was beyond knowing. Ian would begin his journey on the morrow to Worthington Manor, and he wouldna expect any treachery. He would know to be vigilant in the bandit prone areas of the trail, however dressed as he was, as a smithy, none would bother him, for he would be assumed to be as poor as any robbers.

  Stephan knew his brother would want to say a proper farewell to his Druid brother, and that would only happen at the standing stones, the day before he departed for home, and he would insist on being alone.

  The sound of his brother’s horse was muffled by the thick fog that had started rolling in from the sea. Stephan lowered his bow long enough to draw the hood of the thick gray cloak over his head, making him impossible to spot. He repositioned himself only moments before his brother dismounted and entered the circle. He thought to take aim and fire immediately, yet his hand was stayed by an overwhelming curiosity to see what Ian would do.

  His brother lit a small fire with his flint and some dried kindling. Ian sprinkled crumbled pieces of rock, forming a large circle upon the ground, he divided the circle into fourths, chanting quietly to himself in Gaelic. His voice was too low for Stephan to hear all of the words, but he heard enough to understand Ian was calling for the spirits of the four elements of fire, water, wind, and earth. As he called forth each of the elements, he placed a symbolic item in each of quarter of the circle. A bowl of water, a small pile of stone, and feathers. In the fourth he placed the candle.

  Ian then sat in the center of the circle, continuing to chant, his voice ever softer, until he appeared to enter a deep meditative state, his head lowered to his chest. The fog began to swirl as the breeze picked up around them. Stephan’s heart began to beat uncomfortably fast in his chest, and he felt the black spirit within him recoil.

  A whirlwind began to swirl, following the path of the circle, leaves were picked up and tossed, and sparks flew from the fire. The magick was palpable, the air thrummed with power. Ian’s head dropped back, until he was facing the sky, a look of exultation on his face.

  A disembodied voice filled the air, the voice of a thousand angels, the voice of a thousand demons, beatific and terrifying, light and dark, life and death. “Human,” it seemed to say as the sound filled the circle.

  Stephan’s eyes were teary with the beauty and the fury, and he steadied his hand and took aim. He released the bolt, and the metallic twang of the bow string was lost in the sudden crack of thunder that accompanied the flash of blue fire that split the night. Stephan was knocked to the ground, rendered unconscious by the force of the explosion.

  When Stephan woke, it was to a sunny and cloudless sky, all signs of the earlier storm erased, save for the smoldering fire in the middle of the circle where his brother had once been. The notched tip of his arrow was still visible in the embers of the fire.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Lissa reached out with her senses, testing her surroundings, afraid to open her eyes, afraid of what she wouldn’t see. Slowly, she opened them, and discovered a room she’d never seen before. It was a bedroom designed for a happy person, all shades of yellow highlighted with pale green and tangerine. The furniture was not the same type she’d seen in the fourteenth century, but it didn’t resemble the furniture she’d seen at the hospital in New Orleans either.

  Sun was streaming through the bedroom windows, settling in pools around the room. The light breeze kept the pale yellow curtains fluttering gently, and prevented the room from getting too hot. The last thing she remembered, she had been sitting in a chair next to Gav’s bed in Scotland, he’d been shot by a crossbow, his wife, Miranda, was sleeping in the other room. Lissa had wiped Gabhran’s face with a cool cloth, she remembered that much. So why am I in this bed?

  There was nothing familiar about the bright cheery colors, the canopied bed, the cozy little reading corner, the white marble fireplace. The dressers, tables, nightstand, and headboard were made of white oak, as was the rocking chair in the corner. All in all, a happy room, one that made her want to cry. Oh no, not again!


  Before the panic could set in, Lissa realized something was different. She had some of her memories! She remembered living in Scotland. She remembered her conversations with Miranda, conversations about living in different times, about a place named New Orleans. She remembered New Orleans itself! Of course, she remembered Gav and what she was doing right before she woke up here a few minutes ago.

  She remembered Alexander and their baby! She cradled her swollen stomach, feeling his love in the baby they created. Oh Alexander! Where are you? I need you? I need you to know about our baby.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and one escaped, trickling down her cheek and into her hair. She sighed. It was time to face whatever new reality in which she found herself. She explored the contents of the room, expecting to see her belongings as she had in Scotland, as she had in Louisiana.

  Nothing. Empty drawers, empty closest. She was wearing a chemise, her gown was at the foot of her bed with her slippers, and not another stitch of clothes, no other shoes, no bags. Am I in just in another room at the castle? No, that can’t be, I can hear cars. Where am I?

  Pulling the curtain aside, Lissa gazed out on an unfamiliar street. Well, I’m not in New Orleans, that’s for sure. Cars are on the wrong side of the street for that, but they are all modern, so I’m not in the past, either.

  Alysone slipped on her gown and slippers, and wondered just how she was going to explain a fourteenth century gown to the people in her new reality. Would they even know who she was, or was this going to turn into another fiasco and land her in the mental ward as a bampot? With a huge sigh, she opened the door on her next reality.

  ****

  I couldna have killed that woman. Never, not in a million years. So what happened, who is setting me up? He thought back over the previous night with Brianna and felt like there was something more, something he was missing, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  It took every ounce of strength to pull himself from his bed. He held onto the wall all the way down the stairs, weak beyond belief. This isn’t a hangover. What is wrong with me? It hurt to breath, to walk, to move at all. I am a doctor, what the fuck is going on here? Was it possible that both of them had been attacked, and only Brianna had been killed? Was it possible he didna remember that either?

  Struggling all the way into the kitchen he collapsed against the counter, praying for strength to make some coffee, hoping it would clear his head. His legs were shaking from the effort of getting down the stairs, but he wasn‘t sure he had the strength to get to the kitchen table and sit. His forced his legs to hold him, to move, to get him to a chair. He sank heavily onto the seat, and held on to the table for support.

  The blood was rushing in his ears, tunnel vision was narrowing his focus to a small spot in front of his eyes. Then that small spot was filled with a vision so impossible, he knew he had drifted into hallucination. A beautiful woman in a period costume walked into his kitchen and brushed his hair gently with her hand. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, blinking rapidly. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He tried to focus, to push back the hallucination. Must stay conscious, get help.

  Her gaze locked with his, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking. There was something familiar about her. Had he been pulled to a new time again? Nay, this was his house in Edinburgh; it was just as it had been yesterday.

  “Gabhran, thank God you’re here! But I doona think you should be out of bed yet, you are still recovering. You are very weak. Come let me help you, we can talk later.” She rushed in and was reaching for him, when he tried to jump from his seat. He didn’t make it.

  “Lass, ‘tis sorry I am, but I doona recognize you.” He frowned, his brogue seemed to have thickened overnight. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Forgive me, lass. Do I know you?” Then he slid from the chair, no longer able to hold himself upright. “Just who the bloody hell are you, and what have you done to me?” he whispered, just before he toppled over, unconscious.

  ****

  Lissa snorted, what was it with these MacLachlan men? Argue and fight first, before they could have a decent conversation and find out the truth of a matter. Lissa put a cool cloth to his forehead and waited for him to open his eyes. If he stayed unconscious, he would have to stay where he was, there was nothing she could do about getting the big lump off the floor.

  As he came around, Lissa realized from what he had said that he must only have memories of this time and place. Patting him on the shoulder in a comforting manor, she did her best to explain, without explaining anything at all. She needed time to figure out her own story. “You have been badly injured, ‘tis not surprising there are things you doona remember. Let’s get you off this hard floor and I will explain it all later, after you have rested.”

  She did her best to help him to his feet, but he had to do most of the work, then together they walked to a room that looked like a study, and she settled him on the couch. By the time he was seated, he slumped back over to the side, face gray with pain and effort.

  “Bag,” he croaked out. “Get my black bag.”

  Lissa understood at once, he was a doctor in this time, he would have medication. She found his bag under the desk and removed several vials of tablets. Tell me which ones, Gav. What will ease your pain? Plus, I think you should take an antibiotic so your wounds don’t get infected.”

  He directed her to the appropriate medications; she got him some water, and sat with him until he was deeply asleep. Then she got busy.

  Three hours later, she was dressed in jeans and a sweater, wearing some comfortable hiking boots, having used Gav’s credit cards to do a little shopping while he was asleep. She silently thanked whichever gods were responsible for her memories remaining more intact than either of her previous incarnations. She now had enough clothes and toiletries to live comfortably in his house for as long as it took to sort this mess out. She’d been delighted to discover she no longer fit in her previous sizes and bought most of her clothes from a little boutique called Wee Bairn and Mum.

  Gabhran was still asleep, so Lissa fixed a meal while she thought about the best way to help him understand the position they were both in. Eventually, he needed to understand that the time between yesterday and today was closer to seven hundred years, not seven hours of sleep. Meanwhile, she’d seen no sign of other inhabitants in the house, so she decided to tell him she was a border, who took care of the house in exchange for rent. If he decided to kick her out, she would be in big trouble.

  When he woke next, Lissa checked the wounds on his back and assured him they looked to be healing, but encouraged him to keep taking the antibiotics and pain killers for now. When he’d asked again who she was, she’d had her story ready. He’d nodded as though it made sense before drifting back into the healing sleep he so desperately needed.

  Lissa sat in the big overstuffed chair near the couch and read until she fell asleep. When she woke, Gav was staring at her, wide awake, eyes finally clear.

  “Let’s have it, lass. I have been watching you sleep for an hour now. I know that I recognize you, but I canna put it into context. Why are you so familiar to me? Tell me, lass, is that my child you’re pregnant with, and are you the one who shot me?”

  ****

  Randi wiped at her tears furiously, not wanting to appear weak before this man. With a shuddering breath she asked, “Please talk to me, Alexander, what do you know? Can you tell me Gabhran is all right?”

  “Aye, I know some of time travel, ‘tis known among a few Druids, not many. We have much to talk about, and I will answer your questions. Be warned, there are some things I canna tell you and some I willna tell you.

  Then seemingly unable to help himself, he said, “What do you know of Alysone?”

  “As I told you, I met Gabhran in a place called New Orleans where he’d travelled to meet a woman without a memory, a woman named Alysone. Her story was unusual. She said she woke one day and found herself in a new reality, that she didn’t know anyone around her, and
she felt as though she’d just been dropped into a new life. She was in a hospital, because the doctors thought she was insane, and since he was a doctor, he took a job there so they would let him examine her. He wanted to hear her story because it was similar to his. This is really complicated.” Randi sighed.

  “Aye, ‘tis all very complicated, lass. We can go back and ask questions later. I suspect you will have a few questions for me, as well.” He smiled his first genuine smile at her.

  Randi sucked in her breath at that smile. It was dazzling. Next to Gabhran, he was the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen! She smiled tentatively back at him and continued with her convoluted explanation.

  “Gabhran told me later that he’d always felt that he’d been moved into new lives, new places, new times. He felt close to being pulled out of time again, and dropped into another reality. It was why he’d tracked Alysone down when he’d heard of her story. Gav and I were…attracted to each other, and spent some time together. Meanwhile, Alysone disappeared, and it was my job to find her.”

  Alexander stood and stared out the window while she continued her story. Randi knew it sounded crazy and it made it easier to tell when he wasn’t looking at her with those intense black eyes.

  “This next part is a little strange. Okay, the whole thing is a little strange, but as a Druid, you should understand. Some of the women in my family have magick called voodoo, but I never showed any talent for magick, other than being able to read people. My cousin Marie though, is a little like a witch, and she knew Gabhran, um, travelled? She told me he was going to be pulled to a new time soon, and if I kept him close, it might keep him in the current time a little longer.”

  Blushing furiously, Randi forged ahead. “It didn’t quite work that way. We were uhm, very close, and when we woke the next morning, we were in fourteenth century Scotland. Gabhran didn’t remember me from the future at all. He had a whole new story he believed, that we’d been married and now I belonged to him.” She smiled at the memory of barbaric Gabhran.