Snowflakes in Summer (Time Tumble Series Book 1)

by Elizabeth Preston

  “Bern, please tell the guard behind my door to leave. They are treating me like a prisoner.”

  I tried again, aware that the lass had been through much. “I’ve missed ye. Have ye missed me, even a wee bit?”

  She looked away, refusing to answer. I walked to the bed and sat myself down. She turned away, giving me her back.

  “I’m sorry ye suffered as ye did, lass. The Northmen are savage, to be sure. I hope they did no’ hurt ye.”

  She spun around. “It was the other way around, actually. I killed them, or at least one of them. I killed the nicest one.”

  I shrugged. “’Tis the way of war. Every warrior goes into battle knowing he could be injured or killed. The Northmen invaded my castle. Did they expect to come away unscathed?”

  “That’s not the point. The point is, I can’t stay here anymore, Bern. I need to leave. I need to return home. I’m a murderer here, whereas, once I get home, I’ll be a high school history teacher. I’ll be someone who helps people and someone who has not done anything wrong, certainly nothing like murder. At home, I can die with a clear conscience, telling myself that all this is some sort of crazy dream. If I stay here, then I’m a monster.”

  I’d no idea about half o’ the things she said, but then, I often did no’ understand her words. I watched her thrash about, as agitated as a flea in a fur cape. Her hands scratched her skin and she bit at the inside of her cheeks. I smiled. I didn’t mean t’ because the wee thing was being so earnest and was clearly upset. But how could someone feel sad about killing a Norseman, a leader, no less? That, I did not understand. Everyone I knew would wear that tag as a brooch of honor. I reached over, trying to touch her cheek, but she pulled away.

  What would make her feel better, I wondered. “Do ye know how many men I have killed? Too many to count, and do ye see me walking around with a long face?”

  She rolled her eyes. “The more you kill, the larger your grin. But it is not the same with me. You have grown up expecting to kill people. It is what you are trained to do. In my country you would be a soldier in the army. But I’m a teacher. I do the opposite of you, or I’m meant to. My job is to open up new worlds for people by teaching them things. Where I come from, learning improves lives.”

  Was that all I needed to do, to point out that she’d made a difference here, too? “When ye killed the Northman leader, ye make a difference, for certes. For one thing, without your actions, Elspeth would be dead by now and mayhap Ian, too. And when my men and I rode back into Tor, who knows, the swine from the North might have lain in wait, and slaughtered us all, too. I’d say ye made quite a bit o’ difference.”

  She raised her head and gave me a wee smile and my heart burst. “Thank you for saying it. I know you are trying to make me feel better.”

  I nodded. “Enough of this, Caitlin. I’ve been off t’ war and come home triumphant. What ye told me before I left was right. Ye predicted our victory. Ye send me off to war with hope in my heart, and now I wish to thank ye properly.” I tentatively reached over and patted her leg. “Do ye know what kept me going? It was the thought of your beautiful face, and your bold manner, and your clever head, and most of all, your warm heart. I fought hard so that I could come back to ye in one piece.”

  She smiled through her tears. “I thought of you too, Bern, all the time. I worried for you and nearly exploded with joy when the Northmen said you were still alive.” She put her hand on top of mine. “I’ve never felt anything like this before, for anyone.”

  I couldn’t help it then, I dragged her to me, pulling her into my chest. “No more of this nonsense about leaving.”

  She wriggled away, struggling to free herself.

  “I have to go.”

  “No. Ye do not. If ye leave, it is because ye wish t’ leave me.”

  “Bern, you are the reason I want to stay. But the trouble is, I don’t belong here, it is not my place. I do not fit in. Think what it would be like for a salmon if you took the fish from the stream and placing him on a rock. Then you told him that the rock is his place now and that he must not leave it. The salmon would feel strange on that rock and he’d want to be back in the water again, swimming around, living the life he knew, using the skills he’d acquired. Do you know what would make the salmon saddest of all? He would long for his own kind.”

  “So, you’re missing your own kind. ’Tis not much of a problem, Caitlin, my sweet. We will go to your country, capture some of your countrymen and then bring them to my castle to live. You see, there is no problem I cannot sort for ye.”

  She giggled, and I admit the sound raised my hopes, so I pressed on with what I had to say. “I bet that fat salmon on the rock might think twice about leaving if there was the sweetest, juiciest, pink lady salmon sitting on that rock beside him, blowing bubbles most suggestively.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. My story is out of control now, just like my life. I have no idea what the fat salmon is thinking anymore. I bet the salmon keeps changing his mind. I bet he’s no longer sure what he wants.”

  She was looking at me with those beautiful, dewy, cow eyes. “Take me with ye, take me to your country. Trust me, wee Caitlin,” I beseeched.

  She raised her arms as if the idea was too absurd.

  “Why not? How is it that a young lassie like ye can travel to this remote place and yet a strong Highland warrior like me can no’ manage the journey?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not it. The journey is short. I could be there in a few moments.”

  I stared into her eyes. Was she jesting? I didn’t think so. She believed what she said, that she could be in this strange land of hers in a few moments time. She was speaking of a make-believe place, surely? She had to be. Was she a girl from the fairy world? My mother used to tell me stories about fairies, told me that they were really fallen angels. These angels must do good deeds if they wish to return to heaven. Was this why Caitlin was so upset about killing? How was she to get back to her place in the sky, now that she’d killed? I remember my mother saying that fairies were clever and fairy women were the most beautiful of all.

  “Caitlin, my mother told me about the fairy world but quite honestly, I did not believe a word. Are ye telling me that she spoke the truth? That the fairy world exists?”

  She leaned over and kissed my lips. The touch of her silken skin against mine heated my blood. Already, I was at the edge of my control.

  “I’m not a fairy but . . .”

  Her tongue slipped into my mouth and my heart began its fierce drum. She whispered her words into my mouth. “Your mother was not as wrong as you might think. There is more to our world than we can understand. My country is outside of your understanding.”

  I rose up and laid her on her back. “I don’t care where your country is, or if I understand your world, or not. I don’t care if ye are from the sky or from under the sea. All I know is that I think of ye all day and dream of ye all night. If ye are unhappy then I am unhappy. Your worries are my worries and your contentment makes my heart sing. I wish to know everything there is to know about ye and I don’t care how crazy and unworldly your place is. Take me there. Show me. I will shout at dragons and climb up rainbows. I am open, my sweet, open to whatever ye have to show me. I will believe ye, I promise.”

  She rose on her knees and pulled her tunic up over her hips and then up to her waist, holding the layers so that she was showing me her lady-self. It was too much. I am a hot-blooded man most of the time, but when I have returned from battle with my blood lusting for bed sport then my control is weak. The woman I love had just offered herself to me. I pulled her down and parted her thighs. Her sex was slick, her chest heaving. In one movement I was inside her, holding her down, murmuring her name. I was full to brimming with desire for her, and her alone. I’d need to love my Caitlin all noon and throughout the eve to calm my blood. The ye
arning to rip her clothes and free her beautiful breasts was strong. I’d freed one and was gorging myself on its splendor when she said my name, her voice thick with lust. How I’d craved that sound. I’d dreamed of it, imagining the feel of her eager breaths against my neck, her fingers digging into my hair.

  “Bern,” she said again, and then I felt her muscles quicken. She tightened around me, pulsing against my sex. It was too much. I roared my release, giving her everything—my love, my desire, and my dreams. She was my life now.

  We sank into our embrace. “I do not care where ye are from. If ye will not stay in my world then I will go to yours, but please, never ask to be parted from me again. Ye are mine, Caitlin, mine forever. No one else must have ye.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I can’t believe I’m agreeing, but, if you are prepared for the ridiculous, then the answer is, okay. Would you really like to see where I am from?”

  I laughed. “Of course. I am happy, my love, because at last you trust me with the knowledge. If you’re taking me to the clouds then to the clouds we go.”

  She pushed me flat and stretched her face over mine. “Are you sure, Bern, because it’s just about as bad as that?”

  “Lead the way.”

  She jumped from the bed, rushing to relieve herself of her dress. I smiled thinking I was in for a late noon of loving, but she had other plans. She scurried around tossing bags and flinging her things, searching for something. “What are ye up to, my love?” She was naked now, like a water nymph, bobbing about.

  “Here it is.” She pulled her Northwoman dress from out of a cloth bag.

  My face soured. “I prefer to see ye in your Highland dress.”

  “Maybe you do, but I have to wear this to get home.” She struggled into the leather and furs, covering her beautiful shape. “Come on then, if you’re coming.”

  I sighed, “Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  Chapter 18

  Caitlin

  Bern insisted I wear his huge cloak to cover my Viking dress because we were still deep inside Doral Castle and Vikings were not popular here. He was right. We passed a number of castle folk on our mad dash to the kitchen. It took a few missed turns before we located the room.

  “I’ve no idea if this will work,” I hissed, as we tried one door after another, looking for something that resembled the room I’d visited months ago in my own century.

  “Why ever not?”

  “I was wearing this dress when I lay down on the bench seat in the original kitchen in Doral Castle. I fell asleep and when I woke, I was here in the Highlands, in 1263.” I sensed that he was no longer following so turned around and saw him frozen on the spot, holding onto the wall.

  “Come on,” I said, ushering him forward, telling him to hurry. He moved. When he caught me up, he held onto my arm, holding me still.

  “Ye said our worlds are different. Is there more you’re not saying?”

  I nodded. “Our times are different, too.”

  I tried to move but he refused to let me. “How different?”

  I looked around and when I was sure no one was within ear shot, whispered, “You’re from 1263 and I’m . . . well . . . I’m from . . .”

  “Aye?”

  “Let’s just say that I won’t be born for another seven hundred and fifty summers, or thereabouts. But the good news is, I was born in Scotland, just like you, and not too far from here either. If you’d been born seven hundred and fifty years later, we would have met and might even be dating.” I’m not sure he understood, but then, I often used words he didn’t understand. He was swaying slightly, looking unsteady on his feet. “Bern, do you still want to come with me?”

  He gestured for me to lead the way. Before I opened the final door, the only one left that could possibly be the kitchen, I reminded him again. “I’m not sure that this will work. I’ve only traveled once, and I was alone. I have no idea if I’ll be able to bring you with me. But we can try.”

  We pushed open the solid door and stumbled into the stone kitchen. Several cooks looked up. From the shocked look on their faces, I guessed we were unwelcomed visitors.

  “Good day, miladies,” Bern said. “Laird Campbell offered me and my wee lassie here, a look around. I hope we’re nay disturbing ye too much?”

  “No, no, not at all. Come on in.”

  They were lying of course, we were disturbing them. They looked from one to another and shifted about. They clearly did not welcome strangers in their private domain.

  Bern tried to explain us away. “We’ve got changes planned for Tor Castle, ye see. Wee Caitlin here wants to improve our cooking room.”

  I nodded, hoping they wouldn’t quiz me. I had no idea what I’d say. I was so close to going home and could barely focus on anything else.

  “We’ve a good-sized cooking room to be sure,” the older cook said, pushing out her chest. “Mighty proud we are, too.”

  Bern nodded, flicking his hand at the giant fire at the far end. “That’s a decent hearth ye have there. I’ll bet it holds a whole sheep on its spit.”

  Cook huffed. “More than that. I’ve roasted a boar above those flames.”

  “Now that’s what we need,” Bern said, guiding me over. I searched the room, my eyes flickering around, scouring the place for a bench seat, any seat. The only thing I found were two wooden stools tucked out of the way in the corner by the buttery door.

  “Wow, I’m suddenly dizzy,” I said. “Could I sit for a minute?”

  Cook gave me a startled look. “Of course, but you’ll be more comfortable in the covered bailey . . .”

  “That seat will do,” I said, racing over, dragging Bern with me. I snatched hold of his arm, pulled him onto the stool, then wedged my knees between his, so that as much of our bodies as possible were touching. I waited. And waited.

  Nothing.

  Bern raised his eyebrows. I shrugged. “Wait a bit longer,” I whispered.

  We sat. We waited some more.

  “Would ye like a wee ale to drink?” Cook asked me, already pouring.

  I shook my head, wanting to scream, Don’t come near me unless you want to find yourself in the twenty-first century. Cook moved toward us, standing so close. She even stretched her arm out and almost touched me. What could I do? I snatched the mug, drank the lot and quickly handed the empty cup back.

  “Aye, I like to see a wee lassie knock back her ale.”

  Bern was starting to get impatient, wriggling and huffing and tapping his fingers together. He whispered, “How much longer?”

  I rolled my eyes. “How would I know? I don’t have a time machine that I can turn on.”

  “A what?” he mouthed.

  “Never mind.”

  Eventually cook came back. “How are ye feeling now?”

  “Better, thank you,” I said, accepting defeat. I got up and began to walk about. Bern jumped up and followed.

  “It didn’t work,” I whispered as we made our way back to my room.

  “Nay, it did not.”

  He closed the door firmly behind us. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way.” He exhaled as if needed to brace himself because he had something difficult to say. “Are ye sure that ye did no’ suffer a wee knock on the head, just before Silis found ye?”

  I gave him my most stormy glare. “Quite sure. One minute I was sleeping in my homeland and then I was here. No bump. See, this is why I didn’t tell you earlier. My story is too hard to believe. It’s crazy. I’d doubt it too, if someone told me what I’ve just told you.”

  His face broke into a smile. “Ye might be feeling hot and bothered at the moment, wee Caitlin, but I see this for the opportunity it is. Ye can no’ leave me now. You’re here for good. That’s all I ask.” He scooped me into his arms. “Hehe,
it means I get to keep ye,” he said, spinning me around.

  “I suppose it does. But, I don’t understand. How come it didn’t work? I must be doing something wrong.”

  He winked. “It was a one-way journey. Fated, that’s what we are. We’re meant to be together. Ye stay here and I’ll just go and take my leave of Laird Campbell. I’ll thank him for his hospitality and then we’ll be on our way. Aye, I’m itching to get home. I’ve dreamed of getting back to Tor e’er since I left the place. I’m busting to see her lush hills, her bonnie lochs and hear the waves lapping.” He hummed and pulled the door closed behind himself, sealing me in.

  That was it then. I was stuck here, in the past, in a time well before antibiotics or education or safe childbirth. And I was a killer. I’d need to reconcile with that thought, somehow. But, there was an upside, too. I got to keep Bern. I got to snuggle up to him under our fur blankets and we could laze around in bed all day if we wanted to. I could run around the heather hills, swim and fish in the freshest lochs and spend whole days with fiery Elspeth. There was still so much work to be done. I needed to organize the burning of the rushes right down to the stone, to ward off disease. Another thing I must do was to warn everyone about the black plague. It was a while off yet, another fifty years or so, but if we got rid of the rats now and kept them away, then everyone in Tor Castle would have a fighting chance of surviving the Black Death. And then there was the Battle of Largs. Bern needed to learn all about that one. I could make a difference here, I really could. There are more ways to help people than simply by teaching them history.