Kiltnapped [Kilt, Kilty, Kilted 1] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cooper McKenzie

  * * * *

  “You know he loves you, right?” Collin asked three hours later as he turned into the drop-off driveway at Edinburgh airport.

  Though he had tried several times to start conversations, mainly trying to uncover why she was leaving in such a hurry and in such an emotional state, Paisley had remained silent, staring out the window through tears she refused to shed, watching beautiful Highlands become more and more urban the closer they got to the country’s largest city.

  Once again, Paisley did not answer, afraid that if she said a single word everything would gush forth, and Collin was not the one who needed to hear the words. Ewan was. But he was back at the keep doing what he did best, keeping the clan’s business interests going.

  She had not been surprised when he had not come to see her off. What had shocked her was that everyone else in the clan had turned out, the household staff gathering in the keep’s bailey and the village folk lining the road through town, all looking sad as they waved.

  When Collin stopped the car at the proper entrance, she turned to look across the SUV at him. “Thanks for the ride,” she said softly. “I hope I’ll be back sooner rather than later.”

  “So I can tell him ye are plannin’ ta return?”

  “Aye, I’ll be back, I’m just not sure when,” she said as she fumbled for the door handle. Climbing out, she beat Collin to the punch, opening the back door and pulling out her bags.

  Collin closed the door and pulled her in for a hug, planting a big smacking kiss on the top of her head. “He’s no’ the only one who loves ye, ye ken. E-mail me and let me ken when ye get home and what’s happening. I willna tell him if ye dunna want me ta, but I will come after ye if ye dunna e-mail me regular.”

  Paisley could not help but smile as a tear ran down her cheek. At that moment he looked so much like Ewan at his most powerful. “Yes, Collin. I’ll keep in touch. Take care of him for me. And Fergus. And Johnny. And the children—” She broke off and stepped back. “I have to go or I’ll never get through security in time to make my flight.”

  “All right. Be safe,” Collin said, but did not move as she pulled the handle up and headed into the airport.

  Since she had her boarding passes already and was checked in for the flight, she quickly passed through security and then went straight to the gate, arriving an hour ahead of time. She had just enough time to use the restroom before they started loading the plane.

  From that point on, she forced herself to think about anything she could except Ewan, Michael, and her future. Which meant she read on her tablet until the battery died. She tried to sleep, but her mind whirred with a new story, so instead of sleeping as those around her did, she pulled out her notebook and pen and began to write.

  After seventeen hours of travel, she arrived home, physically sore and emotionally drained despite Fergus’s tiger’s eye pendant, which was supposed to protect her. When she had arrived in Philadelphia, she had called Jordan, Michael’s wife, who agreed to pick her up.

  Stepping out the front door, the warmth and smell of North Carolina wrapped around her, making her feel like a stranger in a strange land. She had been gone from Scotland less than a day and already she missed it so bad her heart ached. But it was not just the country she missed, but also the man.

  “There you are. Welcome home,” Jordan said as Paisley dragged herself and her suitcase toward the small sedan that both Jordan and Michael drove.

  “Thanks. How is he?” she asked as she set her carry-on suitcase in the car’s trunk then dropped into the passenger’s seat.

  Jordan blinked and swallowed hard. “Not good. I thought, if it’s okay with you, we could stop and get you something to eat and then head straight to the hospital. I know you’re probably exhausted, but…”

  Paisley did not need the words. Michael was not doing well and she needed to see him now, tonight. “That’s fine, sweetie. I’d love a hamburger if we can find one on the way.”

  “That’s just what I was going to suggest. I’ve been eating hospital food, and my fast food levels have dropped dangerously low,” Jordan said as she started the car and began to drive. “Now, tell me everything, especially about this man who talked you into staying on vacation an extra three months.”

  “Holiday,” Paisley corrected with a smile. “I was on holiday. It sounds so much more elegant than vacation. And after the first few days, it really wasn’t a holiday, but more an indoctrination.”

  As Jordan drove, Paisley gave the barest details about her life in Scotland and her new position within the MacGregor clan. Jordan was a left-brain thinker and had a hard time understanding Paisley’s need to write, so trying to explain how she had been training as an old-world-style healer would be way too much for her to comprehend.

  “Amazing. So you meet this guy, he kiltnaps you, and you end up falling in love with him? Sounds like one of those stories you love to read,” Jordan finally said as they were going up in the elevator to Michael’s room. Because of Michael’s condition, family had been granted twenty-four-hour access. Of course, it also did not hurt that Jordan was employed as a nurse in the Emergency Room.

  As she led the way down the hall toward the room at the end, Paisley took deep breaths and said silent prayers to calm herself so she would not freak out when she saw her brother. She stopped outside the room for an additional minute to finish wrapping herself in a psychic veil of calm.

  Then, taking one last deep breath, she stepped into the room and around the curtain. Michael’s head was nearly entirely covered in bandages, as were his shoulders, one arm, and both legs. Numerous tubes of varying sizes ran in and out of him, and machines beeped and boinked and hissed as they tracked his vital signs.

  Jordan looked at her with tears glistening in her eyes. “The doctors are surprised he’s lasted this long, but I think he’s been waiting for you.”

  Paisley nodded then slowly approached the side of the bed. She settled in the hard-backed chair. Taking Michael’s hand in hers, she began to rub her thumb over the backs of his fingers. They felt so cold.

  “I’m here, Michael,” she said softly. “I’m here, and everything is going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. Remember how I never fit in? Well, I finally found my place in the world. And I’ve met a man. The man I hope to one day marry. His name is Ewan MacGregor.”

  She continued talking, gently assuring him it was safe for him to cross over, and telling him about the life she had found in Scotland, even talking about the sheep she had helped shear just a few days before. As she continued, she was very conscious of the machines around her as they slowed their beeping and boinking and hissing. Then Michael took one last breath and Paisley watched as everything relaxed. In the next instant, one monitor began to squeal and Jordan, who had moved to sit on the other side of the bed, began to sob.

  Michael was dead.

  The cold feeling that had filled her after reading Jordan’s e-mail turned to ice. Leaning down, she kissed Michael’s fingers. “Good-bye, brother. Safe travels.” Then she rounded the bed and hugged her sister-in-law while two nurses hurried through the door.

  Guiding Jordan out, she listened as the woman began to talk through the plans she and Michael had made years earlier when she had gone through a scare with breast cancer, which thankfully had been in remission for the last six years. Paisley knew she was going to have to be strong for Jordan and help in any way she could, but right now all she wanted was to go home, climb in her bed, and sleep until her heart stopped aching.

  Chapter 12

  Over the next week, Paisley used every trick and technique Fergus had taught her to keep her emotions on an even keel while dealing with the aftermath of Michael’s death. She held it together until two days after the funeral when she was helping Jordan sort through and box up Michael’s clothes for donation to various charities.

  She was going through a stack of his T-shirts, remembering when she had last seen him wear each one when the tears began to fall. Then all th
e emotion she had blocked off since reading Jordan’s initial e-mail bubbled up and spewed out. Jordan joined her, and they had a long, healing cry as they sat side by side on the bed. When the tears slowed and eventually stopped, they used a couple of Michael’s oldest, softest, rattiest T-shirts to mop up.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Jordan asked.

  Paisley took a deep breath and released it slowly. This was the first time anyone had asked her that question. She only hoped that Jordan, who she considered a sister, would accept her answer.

  “I’m going to pack what I want to take with me, have a ginormous yard sale, and sell off what I can and donate the rest. Then I’m going back to Scotland and asking a certain kilt-wearing Scotsman to make an honest woman out of me before I start to show.”

  Jordan stared at her for a moment before Paisley’s words sunk in. “You’re pregnant?”

  With a tearful smile, Paisley nodded.

  “Oh, we have to celebrate,” Jordan said. “When we finish up here, I’m taking you out for dinner. Whatever you want. Tomorrow we’re moving these awesome packing skills of ours to your house. If we’re lucky we can have your things sorted and ready for a yard sale this weekend.”

  “Are you crazy? That’s only three days from now.”

  “Do you forget that all you have to worry about packing is what you want to take with you? We’ll open the house up and sell everything else right where it stands now,” Jordan pointed out.

  Paisley had not thought about it. Her thinking had not gone beyond the list of major tasks to be done. Pack what she wanted. Sell everything else. Put the house up for sale. Ship everything to Scotland and get herself back there. The thought of every little step had been so overwhelming she had not gotten much farther than that.

  “Wow, you sound like maybe you’ve given this some thought,” Paisley said.

  Jordan nodded. “I have. I’m hoping to do the same thing in the next month or so. Sell as much as I can, donate what I don’t want, and downsize into a condo downtown where I won’t have to worry about yard work or whether or not the house should be painted this year or not, and if I have a plumbing problem, there’s someone on call twenty-four-seven to come and fix it for me.”

  Paisley nodded. She had not thought much about what changes Jordan would make in her life without Michael around to do the heavy lifting. “I hope you’ll come to Scotland and visit me. Maybe we can find you a kilt-wearing hottie who can make you happy.”

  “I’d love to come and visit, but don’t hold out any hope of finding me a man. Michael Gill was one of a kind,” Jordan said as she stood and returned to the closet. Paisley heard something odd in her tone but did not question it.

  “Yes, he was,” Paisley said as she returned to sorting and packing the dresser.

  * * * *

  Three days later, the second of Paisley’s three-day, everything-must-go moving sale weekend, Paisley happened to look out the front window when yet another car pulled up. Only this time it was not a bargain hunter or a young family looking for cheap furniture.

  She watched as the taxi driver got out, walked around to the back door, and opened it for his passenger. Wow, that never happened in America. Taxi drivers were usually too anxious to pick up their next fare to bother with the niceties she had experienced while in Scotland.

  “Who’s that?” Jordan asked, joining her at the front window.

  “Oh my God,” Paisley said as she pushed out the screen door and ran down the sidewalk.

  The auburn-haired, kilt-wearing man had just finished paying the taxi driver when she reached his side. Two suitcases came out of the trunk and were set on her front walk. She was nearly to him when he turned and saw her. Lines of exhaustion melted away as he smiled and opened his arms to her. “Lassie,” he said.

  “Ewan, what are you doing here?” she asked as she threw herself into his arms.

  “I’m here ta fetch me woman home with me. Whaddaya think I’m doing?”

  Paisley buried her face in his shirt and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of her man. She thought she could smell the fresh air of home on him as well, but chided herself.

  “I love you, my handsome kilted man,” she blurted out instead of answering his question.

  He did not seem surprised as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to twirl several circles as he laughed. “Of course ye do, lass. Jes’ as I love ye to the stars and back.”

  * * * *

  With that, Ewan lowered his head and kissed her. He needed a shower and to brush his teeth and about a dozen hours sleep, but he did not care about anything except the woman in his arms. He had been living in a special ring of hell since she had left, and it had taken him this long to rearrange and hand off his responsibilities so that he could come and fetch his woman.

  Just as the kiss was about to turn into something that would be deemed highly improper in public, someone behind him loudly cleared their throat. He lifted his head and looked over his shoulder to find a tiny blonde woman standing and watching them with a curious look upon her face.

  “Paisley, there’s a gentleman inside who would like to talk to you about buying a few things,” she said with an impish smile.

  Ewan turned his attention back to the woman in his arms who was snuggling as close to his body as she could get. “Lass? What’s goin’ on?”

  “Ewan, this is my sister-in-law, Jordan Gill. Jordan, this is Ewan MacGregor of the clan MacGregor. Jordan is helping me sell everything I don’t want to take to Scotland with me. And I believe Ewan has come just in time to help with the heavy lifting.” Paisley made introductions from the warm, secure, loving hold of Ewan’s arms.

  “We’ll have to talk later,” Jordan said, looking deadly serious. “In the meantime, you really do need to talk to this man, Paisley.”

  Ewan reluctantly released his woman. “Whenever ye like, Mistress Gill. I’ll be here until Paisley is ready ta go home with me.”

  It did not matter to him what this woman had to say, he would be taking Paisley back home with him. He could tell by the tiredness in her eyes and her posture that she had not been taking proper care of herself. She was not as drained as she had been when he had originally kiltnapped her from her hotel room in Inverness, but she was close.

  He followed the two women into the house. Wandering through the house, he was surprised to see the rooms were nearly bare of whatever might have been here before. There was one room with the door closed and a handmade “Do Not Enter” sign on it.

  Of course, he opened the door and stepped inside. There were a dozen packing boxes lined up against one wall along with several suitcases. In the empty space on the other side of the room, there was a sleeping bag and a pillow, which tempted him to lay down and rest awhile. But he had things to accomplish before he could rest. And from the looks of this place, they would not be staying here tonight, no matter how tempting that sleeping bag looked.

  Stepping out of the room, he pulled the door closed and went to find his woman. She was shaking hands with an older gentleman who then pulled a roll of cash out of his pocket and began peeling hundred dollar bills off of it and handing them to Paisley as he counted.

  Five thousand dollars later, he put what was left of his money back into his pocket as he said. “I’ll call my boys and have them come out in the next hour or two to pick everything up if that’s all right. Will someone be here to let them in?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Paisley said as she slid the cash into her pocket. “I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.”

  One more handshake and the man left. Then Jordan grabbed Paisley and did a little happy dance. “You have the best luck! I’ll go get the sign and post a notice on the front door that everything’s sold.”

  “What jes’ happened?” Ewan could not help but ask.

  “Mr. Tyler just bought everything that’s left,” Jordan announced as she did a happy dance toward the front door.

  Ewan turned to Paisley. “Re
ally?”

  “Really,” Paisley said, sounding a little down. “All that’s left to do is put the house on the market and buy a plane ticket.”

  “Ye sold everathin’ for five thousand dollars?” he asked as he mentally did the math converting dollars to pounds.

  “Ewan, he could have offered half of what he paid me and I would have taken it. These are just things, and things aren’t important to me. Being able to leave here and be with you wherever that may be is what is important.”

  Ewan thought of the small box in his sporran and smiled. “Nay, lass, tha’s no’ all tha’s important, but ’tis a good start. I jes’ have a thing or two to add ta yer list ta do afore we head home.”

  Before he could go further, he yawned, long and loud.

  “You must be exhausted. Why don’t you go back and take a nap while I wait for these men to come and clean out the house.”

  Ewan yawned again as he nodding. “Tha’ may be a good idea. Come wake me if ye need help or anything.”

  “I’ll be fine. Go lay down,” Paisley urged.

  Ewan nodded. After kicking off his shoes and peeling off his clothes, he slid into the sleeping bag and settled in though he did not expect to sleep without Paisley in his arms. But as soon as his head sank into the pillow, his eyes slammed shut, and sleep rolled over him.

  Chapter 13

  Though she hated waking Ewan from his nap, the men from the moving company were here to take away the boxes that were to be shipped to the keep. Knocking loudly, she counted three before opening the door. Ewan had sat up in the sleeping bag, but his eyes remained closed.

  “Can you wake up, me laird?” she asked, gently stopping in the doorway and licking her lips to fight down the urge to lick his entire naked chest. “Or should we just work around you?”

  Mumbling something, he pulled the sleeping bag up around his shoulders, lay back down, and rolled so his back was to her.