His deep, rich voice carried an accent not found anywhere in America. Thoughts and memories of odd doors, soggy tennis balls and time losing all meaning flooded her head. She attempted to shake away the haze and felt the ache in her hip. Holy shit. I was shot by arrow. And I think I’m being carried by the man who shot me. This damn day just keeps getting worse.
Fantasy desire became a need to escape as panic filled her thoughts, along with her mother’s teachings from the dojo: fight like hell if anyone ever tries to take you somewhere else. The self-defense lessons she had mocked as a teenager roared back into her head.
Her hand that had fondly roamed his shoulder pushed away and though he tried to keep her in his grasp, Sarah twisted until she fell to the floor. Not willing to ever be a victim, she rose quickly, but had to remain on her knees when the world swam before her eyes.
Her sight focused as he knelt in front of her and she locked gazes with the greenest eyes she had ever seen. They carried all the hues of the forest and practically glowed from within. Their beauty had her lifting her hand to touch his face before she could stop herself. His dark beard hid his skin from her touch even if the heat of him could be felt. A burst of warmth flooded her and tingles spread throughout her limbs. Her finger traced a flaw in the beard where it covered what had to be a small scar.
“You shot me.” While it was more of a question from her lips, the face in her hand nodded and his eyes drooped in what she could only assume to be sadness or regret.
“I thought the beast would attack you. Never have I seen such a creature. I thought only to save you.” His words were softly spoken while his hand blanketed her wrist in a gentle hold.
“Oh.” The soft sound left her mouth and she couldn’t reconcile panic with the way he looked at her. There was no danger in his eyes, only tenderness. His touch stayed compassionate and alarm bells ebbed to a certainty that his hands on her were the only place they should ever be. Feels so good.
“Maybe now would be a good time to introduce you two.” Sarah knew she recognized the voice and turned to the leather-clad legs at her side. “Plus, this looks a bit too cozy.”
Her head lifted to gaze up at the man who had once stared at her from a doorway that couldn’t ever possibly exist. “Peter?” But her hand remained on the man in front of her, a touch she wasn’t willing to break.
Before any could answer, Bella forced her way between them, effectively breaking her hold. The dog dropped her precious ball and licked the side of her face. The sight of the dog brought it all back: impossible doors, time not being right, Scotland, legends, and the beautiful dark-haired warrior who had tried to shoot her dog. Her head shook in disbelief while clarity blossomed.
She touched the dog’s head and gazed around her, not seeing the back yard or the impossible forest. Stone walls greeted her eye, lit with torches rather than light fixtures. There were no windows to help her with her bearings, not that she thought she really would have any. Peter’s nonsensical rants came back. You’re in the Highlands in the year 1314.
On shaky legs, Sarah rose to her feet and shivered at the cold stones against her bare feet while her head swiveled between the two men. That both had knives at their waists and the swords strapped to their backs did not escape her notice. Out-manned and out-gunned. Her hand fell to her hip and the cut to the fabric of her pajama bottoms where a stinging sensation thrummed.
“Where am I?” she asked no one in particular.
Peter’s voice answered so she shifted to face him. “You fainted in the woods after you were shot. Given my memories of the disorientation after going through the door, I’m not surprised. We brought you to the keep to tend to your wound. You are perfectly safe. I swear it.” His gaze swept the long corridor lined with wooden doors. “We need to get her out of sight.”
Peter’s words had dread creeping down her spine. “You aren’t taking me anywhere.” While not exactly in a position to argue, she had heard a woman’s voice and that could mean help.
“Sarah.” Her head whipped to face the bearded man who had carried her. In a flash, she wanted to be numb again, and in his arms, yet she forced the ridiculous fantasy aside. I could be in some serious trouble, despite the situation that hints at a scene from a romance novel, the kind with quite a few racy chapters. Great, now I’m mentally stuck on sex scenes with this unbelievably hot Highlander in front of me.
Peter dulled the illicit fantasy blooming in her head. “We need to see to your wound before it festers.” The beautiful man echoed the sentiments.
Something about him made her want to believe, but the situation seemed too surreal. Her gaze locked on the Highlander’s as he held out his massive hand. “I can nay imagine what you must be thinking, but no harm will come to you within my home.”
“Who are you?” she asked, even as she reached to take his offered hand. She craved the security of his touch.
His large palm engulfed hers and he offered her a small smile as he helped her remain steady on her feet. “I am Conall, Laird of the Draig, and I bid you welcome. ‘Tis our custom to make those of your land welcome and to provide all you will ever need. You are my guest for as long as you reside here.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity with which he spoke, and the deep male voice that sent waves of hot ripples through her. He bent and picked up a blanket and handed it to her. “Cover yourself lest you draw attention to your strange garb. All need nay ken from whence you came. Some matters need to remain secret.”
Conall took the blanket from her hand that refused to move and draped it over her shoulders. His voice resonated deep in her soul and she debated dream versus reality until Peter broke her daze. But the cold stone floor against her feet should have been a large chunk of reality.
“You’ve been through one hell of an early morning. Let’s get you settled into a chamber and we can talk.”
Despite how secure Conall felt, Sarah dropped his hand and immediately longed to take it back, but self-preservation had begun to take over. “I have no idea what’s going on here. How about we call it a mistake and you show me the door. I promise not to call anyone. It will become a simple misunderstanding.” If I know one fact, it’s that I had one hell of a day and my regular evening phone call with Rachel. There’s no way it can be early morning.
Peter chuckled and shook his head. “Do you think we abducted you?”
Sarah straightened her spine and locked onto his hazel eyes. “What else would you call it?” Her challenge may have been rash and she immediately regretted it. She recalled too late the hostage negotiation seminar she had attended two years earlier. Calm and collected words were to be used, not ones that could be deemed confrontational.
“Sarah, you jumped through a door or portal. I have no idea what it really was and it doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that it left you and Bella here in this time and place. There isn’t a way back, or at least I never found one.” Peter’s eyes held grief momentarily before he smiled at her. “It’s the duty of this clan to take in people like us. We aren’t the first ones to get stuck here and I doubt we will be the last.”
“What do you mean?” None of what he said made sense to her.
“This clan is full of stories of people from our time, from the future, who also walked through a door. They all stayed here because they had no choice.” His grin broadened and he laughed lightly. “Congratulations. You just became legendary.”
“I think you are out of your mind,” Sarah said, confident in the judgment even if it lacked professional observation.
“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Peter gave her another wink and then turned away from her as a door behind her opened.
Bella turned at the sound and barked her greeting at the blonde head, and the woman shrieked and then slammed the door closed.
Peter turned to Conall. “You may want to talk to Elspeth. I think we scared the shit out of her.”
Conall frowned as he glanced quickly at the door and then back t
o Peter. “Since she will nay speak two words with me, I doubt my ability to reassure her.”
Peter shook his head. “Not good, given the pending wedding.”
Sarah focused again on Conall. His jet-black hair was pulled off of his face and tied behind him. He had gorgeous green eyes, and while never a fan of facial hair, his beard was neatly trimmed. His tall frame towered over her five-foot-eight-inch frame by a healthy six inches and his body would have made a weight lifter weep with envy. Her thoughts reeled with the sensations that had rocked her semi-conscious thoughts while in his arms. Her brow knit together as she spoke. “You’re getting married.” Disappointment echoed in her words and mind.
“Aye, Sarah,” he answered her simply. “Though when I saw you, I had hoped you were here for me. ‘Twould seem fate is nay kind.”
Her eyes widened at his comment that didn’t carry any hesitation or tease. Seems like fate is a nasty bitch. But Peter ruined the fantasy of the incredible man meant for her.
“Put your eyes back in your head, Sarah. He’s off limits.” From Peter she heard the joke and she turned to stare at him. “He has to get married or this clan is in some serious trouble. Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all as soon as we get you and the dog out of sight.”
Footsteps ran up the stairs at her back and a dark-haired woman came into view. Worry creased her brow as she carried a small wooden tray and stopped before them. Sarah took in the woman’s long gray dress that appeared to be a period-based costume. Given her appearance, she assumed the woman was pushing forty.
“I have all needed.” The woman stared at Sarah as her eyes roamed her from head to toe. “Who is she?”
“My cousin is all you need to know.” Peter faced the woman. “Lena, meet my cousin Sarah. She has come to stay with us.”
Lena’s eyes widened. “You have no kin. I ken who you are.” Her voice faded to a pale whisper.
“Then you know who Sarah is. Keep her secret as you have kept mine.” Something passed between the two of them and Sarah wondered if what Peter had said could actually be real. There is no way I wound up half way around the world and in the past. Is there? And in my pathetic jammies without a bra?
Peter continued. “Sarah needs a chamber fitting her status as my cousin. She will also need something suitable to wear after her wound has been cleaned. I think you would be better suited to the task than either one of us since Conall shot her in the ass and she’s not quite sure what to do with me.”
Lena gaped in pure shock and turned to Conall. “How could you?”
“I thought the beast attacked her.” Conall tried to explain.
Lena glanced at Bella, who happily wagged her tail, and then scowled at Conall. “Aye, the wee beastie seems quite vicious.” Her voice clearly mocked. The woman again stared at her until the hint of a smile crossed her lips. “I welcome you, Sarah.”
“Um, thanks?” Sarah knew her reply was weak, but she needed to decide if Lena would be a friend or another player in the messed-up scenario.
“Which chamber should we use?” Peter asked as his gaze roamed down the long stone corridor.
Lena seemed to ponder the question before finding her answer. “Most of the guest chambers are full. However, since Sarah is to be one of us, we shall use Conall’s old one.”
When Peter and Lena turned to Conall for what seemed like approval, she did the same. His eyes fell to a door only several steps away. When he spoke, it was to her. “‘Tis a fine chamber. All you need will be provided for you.”
Sarah nodded mutely. She knew she had two choices. The first, and perhaps wisest move, would be to play passive and go along with the nonsense. The second one carried more risk. The stairway behind Conall had to lead to a way out. But she would never make it past the two armed men and she had no idea what waited downstairs. Plus, he just seems too sweet to be dangerous. Or there was the possibility that she was being naïve due to his gentle touch and insanely handsome face.
Holding Conall’s gaze, she nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure it will be fine.” Passive has won for the moment.
Lena walked to a wooden door and opened it. Little light came from the open door. “Come, Sarah. Let us tend your wound and see to your needs.”
“Bella, come.” The dog thankfully walked to her side, she felt safer with the massive creature next to her. Not seeing anything on the outside of the door that could lock her in, she entered the dark chamber.
Chapter 4
“I have given all that you have asked. All I seek is the pastureland that stands between our clans. Once such a place was shared, but I need to ken ‘tis ours alone, given your tendency to steal my sheep.” Conall sat back in his chair and waited for Tearlach to argue, as he had every time he had broached the grazing lands. He had already agreed to far more silver than originally suggested in the earliest form of negotiation. The Campbell needed to give in return.
“Your sheep hold little interest for me. How convenient to blame me for your poorly skilled herdsmen.” Tearlach’s taunts meant nothing to him and he had doubted an honest acknowledgement of theft.
“Dinna act innocent. ‘Tis only you and I here. Or would you prefer to continue in the presence of the Bruce’s man?” Conall had sent the man away. He seemed to cause more issues than he solved with his favoring of the Draig clan.
Tearlach sat back and mirrored his position, a good sign to Conall. After thinking for long enough to solve a day’s worth of issues, Tearlach finally spoke. “You may have half of the lands provided our negotiations end. I would be home to oversee the planting of my crops. I will even add lands to the south of mine. ‘Tis modest, a part of my mother’s dowry, but mayhap useful for gifting or such. Let us call it a compromise.”
“Then the contract is settled.” Conall sighed in relief that settled like an unwelcome rock in the pit of his stomach. For weeks they had gone back and forth with only animosity and he should be pleased all was settled, not dismayed. “Do I need to write in that there will be peace between our peoples?”
“The fact that my sister will be here ‘tis enough. I would see naught done that could harm her.” Tearlach rose from his chair and held out his arm to be clasped. Conall rose to grip the forearm and held the man’s penetrating gaze.
“Your sister shall be held in the highest regard for all of her days.” He meant what he said; a wife was to be cherished, such he had learned from his father. Arms were dropped and Tearlach helped himself to a cup of wine from the pitcher set between them on the desk.
“I have spent the whole of my life seeing the Draig as a clan nay to be trusted. Our agreement bodes well for a new beginning.” Conall nodded at Tearlach’s fine sentiment.
“Old stories state that once our clans were tied by the blood of sisters, and now it shall be bound in marriage and the bairn-to-come that will once again have shared blood.” Conall raised his cup, making their conversation more of a toast. Yet the quickness of the day’s events made him uneasy. “Tell me what has made the negotiation go so quickly this day. For weeks we have argued these points with only hostility.”
Tearlach sat and indulged in a large swallow. “I have no desire to see half of the Bruce’s forces at my gates. ‘Twould seem my pride overshadowed what needs to be.”
Putting the pieces together, Conall said, “You were threatened by the Bruce’s man, Logan.”
“Aye, and a fine threat ‘twas. His vision ended with the destruction of my keep and a different man in my seat.” To Conall’s surprise, Tearlach laughed. “I had wondered how long I could stall the inevitable. Seems the Bruce will seek your company within the next moon. Tell me, Conall, with whom shall I deal when you depart?” The humor had left his voice with the question. “And who shall keep my sister safe? Elspeth could always return to Campbell lands and keep our mother company while you are away.”
“I would have my wife here to oversee the household, though your mother is most welcome to visit.” He debated how to speak of clan leadership in his absence and
decided on honesty to keep faith with the man before him who would soon be his brother-by-marriage. “For the past decade, Peter has seen to the daily needs of the clan and served as laird in all but name. He will continue the role with my full confidence.”
Tearlach shook his head. “You would choose your uncle over your younger brother? It could become a problem now that young Evan is of an age to assume his duties. Besides, your clan speaks of Peter nay truly being your uncle.”
“He is my mother’s cousin, though distant. We have called him uncle for years, a title of respect. None have ever tried to present him as more than that. As for Evan,” Conall’s voice faded as he attempted to find something that spoke of potential.
“Your brother has no head for clan matters, all ken it. Unless that matter has a skirt to lift.” Tearlach chuckled at his jest. “He is fine and skilled with a sword until a bonny lass smiles.”
Grumbling at the truth, Conall replied, “Peter gave him too much freedom as a youth. I will give him more responsibilities before I leave. As for the lasses, he needs to be reminded the Draig dinna use their servants for personal pleasures.”
“Once he is wed, all will be well. I recall chasing a few young lasses before a wife was chosen for me. Do you plan to make similar arrangements for Evan?”
Where he wanted to state that the Draig marry for love and not by design, he held his tongue. How can I criticize what I am about to do as being wrong for my brother? Though Evan will marry whom he chooses. “The lad is merely nineteen. When he has assumed his duties, word will be sent out he needs a bride.”
“It may be best to see it done sooner so you may have a hand in the choice. Should battles end poorly, the lad will be laird.” Tearlach stated the obvious facts that drove Conall to attempt to instill responsibility in his brother.
“I will consider it,” Conall said to end the conversation that hinted at his death. No man wanted to plan for his own death even if that motivation provided the path for his daily activities. “But I will ensure Evan kens the duties of laird and is able to fulfill them if needed. One of those duties being the proper care of my wife.”
The Draig's Choice Page 4
