Call of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 8)

by Katy Baker

  “Where are ye from?” he asked. “Yer accent is strange.”

  “Seattle,” she replied. “Born and bred.”

  “Seattle?”

  “In the US?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I havenae heard of such a place.”

  Beth breathed in deeply. Of course he’d never heard of the US. Why would she expect anything different? Just like he’d never heard of a cell phone or the police.

  “Okay. Fine. Whatever. Can we get going now?” she could feel her tattered nerves beginning to fray. She needed to get back to town and some sort of sanity.

  “Aye,” he grunted. He turned and walked towards the horse.

  “Do you have a name?” she called after him.

  He turned to look over his shoulder. “Camdan MacAuley.” He gathered the reins and led the horse over. “Mount up.”

  Beth eyed the horse. It was enormous and glared at her with undisguised malice. “You want me to ride that thing?”

  “Well I dinna want ye to dance with him,” Camdan snapped.

  “But...but...I haven’t ridden since I was six.”

  “Lord above, woman! It’s fifteen miles to Cannoch and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna walk the whole way!”

  Before she could say another word he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her into the saddle as though she was a sack of apples. Beth squawked and the horse shied at this unaccustomed weight on his back. With a gasp, she knotted her hands in the horse’s mane, clinging on for dear life. Camdan reached up to steady her and then swung up behind her with practised ease.

  “I’m Beth by the way,” she muttered. “Thanks for asking. Bethany Carter.”

  He made no reply. Reaching around her to take the reins, he kicked the horse into motion. Beth squeezed her eyes shut and clung onto the saddle. Today had turned into a nightmare. Why had she ever listened to Irene damned MacAskill?

  Chapter 5

  Cam felt ill at ease as they rode. It had turned into a very strange day. First there had been the unexpected meeting with Irene MacAskill, then the fight with the brigands, then the even more unexpected discovery of a strange lass alone in the woods—a lass who’d probably saved his life. He glanced at her perched in the saddle in front of him. There was more to her story than she was telling. She wore outlandish clothing, spoke with a strange accent and the jeweled necklace she wore suggested a noblewoman. But what would a noblewoman be doing wandering the woods alone?

  It made no sense, just like most of today’s events made no sense.

  Firefly snorted and Cam realized he was gripping the reins tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He forced himself to relax. They’d soon reach Cannoch and then he could be rid of this unwelcome complication.

  The lass sat bolt upright in the saddle, clinging to the horn in a way that suggested she was unused to riding. Her back was rigid, her shoulders tense, and she made sure to keep a gap between herself and Cam.

  Despite having to circle his arms around her in order to hold the reins, Cam was careful not to touch her. She was obviously frightened of him. The look she’d given him when he insisted she rode with him had been one of pure terror. The thought sent a jolt right through his body. Who could blame her? What would she have seen when she entered that clearing? A blood-crazed mad-man?

  Shame washed through him. What had happened to the man who valued his honor above all else? What had happened to the man who had stood by his brothers in countless battles and defended their clan with his life?

  Gone, Cam thought. He died on the shore that night as surely as if he took a knife through the heart.

  He’d felt nothing but exhilaration as he’d fought those brigands. The rage had demanded release, demanded violence, and Cam had given it freely. During the fight he’d been free of the ever present burning in his soul, the terrible yearning that could never be assuaged.

  And when he’d killed that vagabond? When he’d driven his sword through his chest? He’d felt only triumph. What sort of man did that make him?

  His father would be ashamed if he could see Camdan now. Laird David MacAuley had been a man of principle. A laird, he taught his sons, was more than just a leader. He was an example to his people, his clan. He should act with honor in all things. What honor had there been in killing that ruffian?

  I didnae have a choice, he told himself. He would have killed me.

  Such logic did nothing to assuage his guilt. Cam clenched his teeth to keep a growl from escaping. Pushing aside such thoughts, he forced himself to concentrate on their path. His eyes scanned the undergrowth and his ears strained for any sound that didn’t belong. If those brigands had accomplices, they might well be tracking them by now, eager for revenge. If it came to another fight, Cam would be hard pressed to fend them off and keep the lass safe at the same time. He loosened his sword in its scabbard in readiness.

  But no attack came and they soon found themselves riding out of the woodland and into the pasture land that surrounded Cannoch. Up ahead columns of chimney smoke marred the sky.

  The lass sighed, almost sagging with relief.

  Cam cleared his throat and spoke for the first time on the journey. “Ye have kin in Cannoch?”

  She shook her head, making her long chestnut hair shimmer. When the light caught it, he could see flecks running through it like woven gold. “No. I’m staying in Banchary which I guess must be close by. In a guesthouse. I’ve booked a room for the weekend. My friend reckoned I needed a break.” She laughed but it was a brittle sound devoid of humor. “I’m up here to relax. Funny, eh?”

  “Ye live in this ‘Banchary’?”

  “No. I live in Edinburgh. I’ve been there for four years now.”

  Cam frowned. “But ye said ye were from...where was it? Seattle?”

  “Originally. But I studied in Edinburgh. A great place to be a student. Have you been? I could recommend some places to visit if you’d like. Oh, of course you’ve been. You are Scottish after all. Sorry. I tend to prattle when I’m nervous.” She clamped her mouth shut and stared straight ahead.

  Cam said nothing. Her words had him more confused than ever.

  They took the main trail into the settlement. To either side lay small fields carved up by withy fences. The fields held livestock: goats, chickens, pigs and the occasional plow horse. People glanced up from their work as Cam rode by, wary of strangers.

  Cam guided Firefly to the small square in the village center which served as market place and meeting point. There he pulled the horse to a halt.

  The lass glanced at him. “Why have we stopped?”

  He gave her a puzzled frown. “We’re here.”

  She gave him a puzzled frown of her own. “What do you mean? Where are we?”

  “Where ye wanted to be. Cannoch.”

  Her eyes widened. “Cannoch? You seriously think I’m that stupid? Okay, joke over. Where are we really? This looks like some historical re-enactment type place.”

  He swung his leg over the saddle and jumped to the ground. “Why would ye think this a joke? Ye asked to go to Cannoch and that’s where I’ve brought ye. The inn is over there.”

  He nodded to the far side of the square then held up his hand to help her down. She eyed him warily for a moment then gingerly reached out and took his hand. Her skin felt warm and soft and her hand seemed impossibly small in his. He glanced up and found her looking down at him. Her eyes were as deep a brown as freshly tilled earth.

  Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, Cam cleared his throat. “Swing yer leg over the horse’s back and jump down. I willnae let ye fall.”

  She followed his instructions but was so ungainly that Cam was glad she wore trews like a man, otherwise the whole street would have gained a view of her backside. She slid to the ground and Cam caught her, his hands going reflexively round her waist. She stumbled and caught herself, her fingers gripping his forearms.

  “Easy, lass. We dinna want ye falling face-first in the dirt.”

  “Now wouldn’t that jus
t round off a damn-fine day?” she muttered. She steadied herself and then looked up at him. “Thanks.”

  Her eyes met his. She had a slight dusting of freckles across her nose and a dimple in her chin. His breath quickened. Lord above, she was beautiful.

  He stepped back quickly. “This way.”

  He grabbed Firefly’s reins and marched across the square, not bothering to see if the lass followed. After a moment, she caught up with him.

  Her head swiveled from side to side as they walked, her eyes wide. From the look on her face, anyone would think she’d never seen a village before. Probably used to fancy manor houses or castles.

  They reached the village’s only inn. It was a ramshackle place built on the crossroads that brought Cannoch its trade. Its lower floor was constructed of stone, the upper, timber, with a roof of worn-out thatch over the top.

  The door hung open and from inside came the sound of someone playing a fiddle. He tied Firefly to the post outside then led the way inside. Pipe smoke filled the air and from out the back came the smell of roasting meat. Camdan’s growling stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since this morning but he didn’t have time for a meal now. If he wanted to reach the northern road by sundown, he needed to be on his way.

  Beside him, the lass stared wide-eyed around, her face pale.

  “Dinna worry,” he said. “Ye’ll be safe now—as long as ye keep out of the woods.”

  She gulped and looked up at him. “What the hell is this place?”

  “I’ve already told ye,” he replied, stifling a stab of impatience. Was she deliberately trying to annoy him? “Ye said ye wanted to go to the nearest settlement. This is it.”

  BETH STARED AT HIM. He was kidding, right? Whatever the hell this place was, it most definitely was not a tourist village, and this was most definitely not a hotel. The room had plain wooden floorboards strewn with rushes, unlit candles sitting on the rickety tables, and thick beams holding up the roof. It looked like something out of a history book.

  She looked around slowly. All the patrons were wearing the same traditional dress as Camdan although the tartan of their plaids were different colors. Except for a young woman weaving between the tables carrying pewter tankards on a tray, all the customers appeared to be men.

  A terrifying suspicion began to form in her mind. Everyone wore plaid and carried weapons. Cannoch was little more than a rustic village. Camdan looked at her as if she was crazy every time she asked him to use his cell phone. The pieces suddenly clicked into place and the implications made her stagger with sudden dizziness. She placed a hand on the wall to steady herself.

  “What’s wrong?” Camdan asked, coming immediately to her side. “Lass?”

  She breathed deeply, trying to calm her suddenly hammering pulse. No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. Impossible!

  Looking up at Camdan she forced words through a constriction in her throat. “What...what year is this?”

  He stared at her as if she’d gone daft. “Have ye lost yer wits, woman? What kind of question is that?”

  “Answer me!” she snapped.

  Camdan scowled at her sharp tone. “King James has sat the throne for twenty eight years. It’s 1542, of course.”

  1542.

  Oh god. Oh holy god. That’s why everything was so strange. She wasn’t in the wrong place at all.

  She was in the wrong time.

  The edges of her vision went fuzzy and for a moment she feared she might pass out. Gritting her teeth, she dragged a ragged breath into her lungs, closed her eyes for a moment and forced aside the dizziness. No. She would not faint. She would figure this the hell out.

  Camdan stepped close. “Lass? Are ye well?”

  Glancing at him, she felt a hysterical laugh bubbling in her chest. Well? Of course! I’m just dandy! I’ve only been whipped back in time by several centuries. No skin off my nose.

  Oh hell. Oh bloody hell fire.

  The room suddenly felt claustrophobic. She had to get away. Away from Camdan, away from the inn, away from all of it. She spun on her heel and marched out into the street. The late afternoon sun cast ribbons of light through the clouds that were gathering to the west and the breeze had picked up, sending her hair streaming out behind her.

  Beth pressed a shaky hand to her forehead and forced her addled brain to think.

  I’m hallucinating, she told herself. That’s the only explanation. Or I’ve hit my head and I’m dreaming. This is not real. It can’t be. This is not real!

  She would find the road or a cell signal or a phone box and call the police. Then she would return to the guesthouse in Banchary and forget any of this had happened. Of course she would.

  Digging her nails into her palms to steady herself, Beth lifted her chin, pulled in a breath, and marched off down the road.

  CAMDAN STOOD IN THE street and watched the lass go. She walked with purpose, as if she knew her destination but her behaviour at the inn suggested otherwise. For a moment in there he’d been sure she was going to swoon.

  He shook his head. The woman was obviously unhinged. She talked about things he’d never heard of and acted strangely. He knew of no other woman who would have risked herself to warn him of that brigand. She was brave to the point of recklessness and yet seemed uneasy at the mere sight of his sword or the blood on the dead man’s chest.

  Squinting against the glare of the lowering sun, he watched her until she disappeared into the distance. Good. He was well rid of her. She was a complication he didn’t need. Pausing only long enough to send word to the sheriff about the brigands he’d left in the woods, he untied Firefly and climbed into the saddle.

  The stallion snorted and stamped, as eager as his master to be on his way. Yet Cam hesitated. He ought to pull Firefly around and trot out of the village the other way, heading north where he might be able to pick up work in some lord’s garrison. With winter coming on, hired guards were always in demand against the rise in banditry the harsh season inevitably caused. Aye, he should ride away and forget the lass. He owed her nothing. Hadn’t he brought her safely to Cannoch as he’d promised? Any debt between them was settled.

  But he didn’t move. His father’s training took hold. The lass was disorientated and alone. Any man with a shred of honor wouldn’t leave her to her fate on the road.

  But I’m not a man of honor, he told himself. Not anymore. I’m a hired sword, killing for the highest bidder. What use are a laird’s notions of honor to me?

  Firefly whinnied and shook out his mane, snorting at the delay. The sun was sinking towards the horizon and it would soon be sunset.

  “Ah! Damnation!” he growled.

  Cursing his own stupidity, he nudged Firefly into a trot after the lass.

  Chapter 6

  Beth tramped along the road, keeping her eyes peeled for anything that looked familiar. A road-sign, an isolated cottage, hell, even the streak of a plane through the sky would have reassured her that she wasn’t going totally crazy. Banchary wasn’t that far from Edinburgh. With night coming on, the lights of the great city should have lit the sky for miles around. But there was nothing. Just the undulating landscape and the muddy track she followed.

  It would be dark soon and then what would she do? Walking out of Cannoch suddenly seemed like a stupid idea. Maybe she ought to return and see if Camdan was still there. He was the only familiar thing in a suddenly shaky world.

  But the stubborn part of her refused to entertain the idea. If she returned there, it was like she was admitting she’d traveled through time. Her brain just wouldn’t accept that, not until she’d exhausted all other possibilities. And besides, Camdan scared her. He was exactly the kind of mindless thug she’d vowed to help put away. Why would she want to spend any more time near that man?

  She broke into a jog, determined that over the next rise she’d see the lights of cars snaking through the valley below or spot the glow of Edinburgh in the distance. She found neither. When she reached the top of the
hill all that met her eyes was a sea of trees clinging to the lower slopes of heather-clad hills.

  Panic tinged her thoughts now and she found herself picking up the pace until she was pelting along the muddy track, her boots splashing through puddles and throwing up clods of earth. Soon her lungs were burning and she slowed to a stop, leaning over and catching her breath. All around were the darkening woods. The squawking cry of a pheasant cut through the air but other than that, all was still.

  Beth straightened and rifled through her pockets. She came up with a stick of chewing gum, her cell phone, a pack of tissues and Irene’s flyer about the Castle View Guesthouse. With a growl, she crunched it into a ball and threw it away with all her might.

  Damn Irene MacAskill! And damn herself for listening to her!

  She needed shelter. The temperature would drop considerably once it got dark and there was the smell of rain in the air. She left the trail and forged into the woods, looking for somewhere she could hunker down for the night: a cottage would be best but even a cave would do! But as she walked, eyes scanning the landscape, the ground suddenly gave way beneath her feet. With a scream, Beth plunged downwards only to hit solid stone and be thrown to her knees a second later.

  She scrabbled up. Natural stone walls rose on either side of her, slimy with rotted leaf litter. She seemed to have fallen down some sort of ravine, a narrow cut through the forest floor that had been hidden by dead wood and leaves. The ravine was not deep, maybe ten feet, but the walls were too high for her to jump and grab the edge.

  Grabbing hold of two protruding rocks, Beth tried to climb out, but the rocks were so slippery she couldn’t keep a grip and she slithered back down to the bottom. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. She pounded her fists against the rock.

  “This is not fair!” she screamed at the top of her voice. “Irene, I’m going to kill you!”

  The sound echoed off the walls and shattered the silence of the night. Only when it died away did she realize it was probably not a good idea to shout like that. Camdan had warned her there might be more outlaws around and she was very, very sure she didn’t want any of them stumbling upon her in the night.