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

by Katy Baker

  A noise from behind sent her spinning in that direction. Firefly’s long nose poked out of a bush as he ripped leaves from it and munched noisily. Beth let out a sigh of relief. If Firefly was here it meant Camdan could not be far.

  She crossed the clearing to where Firefly was busy with his breakfast. The horse swung his head up as she approached and snorted in greeting.

  “Where’s your master, eh?” she said.

  Firefly sniffed at her outstretched hand and then went back to eating. She patted him on the neck.

  “You’re not so scary really, are you? Not once I’ve gotten to know you. I reckon your master’s a bit like that too. Don’t you?”

  Leaving the horse to his meal, she fetched water from the stream and had a quick wash. The water was icy enough to make her gasp and she got it over with as quickly as possible. She split the end of a twig and used it as a rudimentary toothbrush then pulled her fingers through her hair to take out the worst of the tangles. She must look a state. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a decent hairbrush and a pair of straighteners!

  Having made herself as presentable as she could, she pulled her bedroll from inside the tent and placed it by the fire, sat cross-legged on it and began coaxing the fire into life.

  A branch snapped and Beth looked up to see Cam striding through the mist into the dell. His red-gold hair shone with droplets of dew and his cheeks held a warm glow as though he’d been running. In one hand he held a bow and from the other dangled a pair of pheasants.

  Relief flooded through her at the sight of him. The dell seemed suddenly warmer, more welcoming with him in it, and the faint anxiety gnawing at her stomach evaporated.

  She scrambled to her feet and raised an eyebrow at him, folding her arms across her chest. “And where, pray tell, have you been?” She kept her voice playful, trying to tell him she wanted to put last night’s argument behind them.

  “Finding our supper for later,” he replied, brandishing the pheasants. “See?”

  She screwed up her face and stepped back. “Lovely.” She eyed the bow. “So I can add hunting to your long list of talents?”

  He shrugged. “With the bow I am average at best. My younger brother was always the best marksman in the clan.”

  Cam’s tattoo, she noticed, had faded to a dull gray, hardly noticeable at all against his skin. She frowned. How the hell could a tattoo keep changing color? It made no sense.

  “Well, since you’ve caught supper I reckon it’s only fair that I cook breakfast, don’t you?”

  He dropped the pheasants to the ground and then seated himself by the fire. “Ye’ll get no argument from me on that score, lass. I’m beginning to understand that arguing with ye is a futile business.”

  “Ah! You’re learning. I knew there was hope for you yet.”

  He gave her a small smile and Beth’s heart fluttered. She hoped their argument last night was forgotten.

  The way he was sitting made his plaid ride up his legs. Above the soft leather boots that reached to his knees, Beth caught a glimpse of his knee and a muscled thigh. She swallowed.

  “Right. Coming up.”

  She turned to the saddlebags and began rummaging inside, coming out with some sausages which she tumbled into the pan. They sizzled as they hit the metal, frying in their own juices and sending a delicious scent through the dell. She tossed in some field mushrooms as well and then crouched beside the fire, moving the sausages around the pan with a wooden spatula.

  Camdan watched her while she worked. Beth forced herself to concentrate on her task. She was glad when the sausages were cooked and she doled out Cam’s share onto a small wooden plate. He nodded his thanks and began eating.

  Beth sat back and tucked into her own breakfast. They ate quickly then Cam announced it was time to be going. Together they broke camp, Cam dousing the fire and packing away the tent whilst Beth washed the cooking equipment in the stream and then packed up the supplies. They worked without speaking, neither having to give the other instruction, moving in concert as if they’d done this together countless times.

  Less than an hour after waking Beth found herself sitting in the saddle in front of Cam as they swung back onto the trail that led higher into the mountains.

  “Where are we heading?” she asked. “Wouldn’t we be better keeping to a main road?”

  “Only if ye want to go out of yer way by many days,” he replied. “Edinburgh lies beyond the mountains and the quickest route cuts through them. Dinna worry, lass. The passes will still be open. Winter has yet to bite so we’ll be fine. Besides, I have other reasons for wanting to pass this way.”

  She craned her neck to look at him and found he had a mischievous smile on his face. “Reasons you’re not going to tell me, I’m guessing.”

  “Ye guessed right. Dinna look at me like that! Ye’ll be glad we came this way, I promise ye.”

  Beth gave him a scowl. Him and his damned secrets!

  The day was fine and bright with wisps of cloud scudding along high above. The leaves shimmered golden and red in the sunlight and the rustle of squirrels hiding acorns in the leaf litter accompanied the clop of Firefly’s hooves. Beth soon found herself drowsing in the saddle.

  The faint echo of Irene MacAskill’s words sounded in her head, like a dream that fades on waking. Yer destiny is coming for ye, Bethany Carter. What will ye do? Will ye run? Or will ye face it?

  She paid the memory no heed. Right now she was warm and comfortable and was leaning against something reassuringly strong. She felt safe, safer than she had in a long time. What need did she have to fear the ramblings of some mad old woman?

  Blinking, she tried to clear her foggy thoughts. That reassuring warmth at her back was still there and she realized she was leaning against Cam. A weight across her body was his arm holding her against him. She sprang bolt upright with a gasp and Cam released his grip.

  “Ye fell asleep, lass,” he said by way of explanation. “I held ye to ensure ye didnae fall from the saddle, that’s all.”

  His voice was wary. Did he think he’d scared her? It wasn’t fear that made Beth’s skin tingle from their contact. But she couldn’t tell him that.

  “Right. Thanks,” Beth mumbled, flustered.

  Cam stiffened suddenly behind her. “Hush.”

  Beth froze. Cam reached slowly over his shoulder and gripped the hilt of his sword.

  “I wouldnae do that if I were ye,” said a voice from behind them. “I have an arrow trained on ye. Take yer hand away from yer blade or I will make a pincushion out of ye.”

  With a low growl that rumbled through his chest, Cam slowly took his hand from his sword hilt. “Ye will regret threatening me, little man, when I find out who ye are.”

  There was a long pause. “I know that voice. Cam? Is that ye?”

  Beth heard rustling in the undergrowth and a man stepped into their path. A hunting bow dangled from one hand.

  “Rabbie?” Cam said incredulously. He barked a sudden laugh. “Burn me, but I should have known it was ye! Ye are the only man in all of Alba who can creep up on me unawares!”

  He swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. The two men came together in a warm embrace, grinning and slapping each other on the back.

  “Ah, but it’s good to see ye, my old friend,” Cam said. “I didnae expect to find ye this far down the trail. Tis a good long ways yet to yer place.”

  “Aye,” Rabbie replied. “And Elspeth will spit feathers when she knows I’ve been down here again but there have been signs of mounted men passing through here and I was checking out their trail.”

  Cam shook his head. “We’ve come up from Netherlay and saw nay sign of anyone on the trail up here.”

  Rabbie nodded. “I hope ye are right.” His eyes flicked to Beth and a curious expression flitted across his ruddy features.

  Cam cleared his throat. “Rabbie, this is Bethany Carter, a traveler from across the sea. I’m escorting her to Edinburgh. Beth, I would like ye to meet my
good friend, Rabbie MacGovern.”

  Beth swung her leg over the saddle and slid awkwardly to the ground. She wiped her palms down her dress and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rabbie.”

  Rabbie looked a little taken aback then he took her hand and shook it. “Likewise, Bethany Carter. I canna begin to imagine what calamity caused ye to take Camdan MacAuley as a traveling companion. The man complains worse than a fishwife.”

  Beth laughed. “Yes and has a temper like an angry bear.”

  “Aye, one that’s stood on a thorn.”

  Cam crossed his arms. “Have ye two finished? Rabbie, could I beg yer hospitality for a day or so?”

  “Cam, my old friend,” Rabbie said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Ye dinna have to beg anything. Elspeth would strip my hide if I didnae insist on ye staying with us. Come on. If we hurry we can be home in time for supper.”

  The woodsman led the way and Cam grabbed Firefly’s reins as the three of them began walking north along the trail. It felt good to walk after two days in the saddle. Beth’s thighs and backside were aching something rotten.

  Rabbie proved to be talkative and friendly. He made polite enquires about Beth’s background and she answered as best she could without giving away too much information. He accepted her answers with a nod and didn’t push for explanations, for which she was grateful.

  He explained that he and his family lived not far away in an isolated cottage. Rabbie made his living by hunting and trapping, selling his wares twice a year in the market at Aberdeen. Beth wondered how he and Cam knew each other. From their friendly banter it was obvious they liked and respected each other. In looks they couldn’t be more different. One walked with the casual grace of a born warrior, weapons strapped around his person. The other carried only a bow and wore the simple garments of a woodsman, his ruddy face testament to many long days spent out in the elements. Yet they both radiated self-reliance earned through hard toil.

  “Ah! Home, at last!” Rabbie announced.

  Up ahead smoke was rising in a dark column above the treeline. The trail veered around an outcropping of rock and came out onto a wide plateau below a sheer cliff-face. Nestled against the cliff, Beth spied a neat and tidy thatched cottage. The flat ground in front of it formed a barnyard complete with fenced enclosures that held two goats and a milk-cow. Beyond the cottage lay a chicken-house and a small barn. Strangely, the cottage had a wooden ramp leading up to the door.

  The cottage door opened and a small red-haired woman stepped out. The arms of her dress were rolled up to her elbows and a dusting of flour on her nose showed she’d been disturbed in her baking.

  Rabbie’s face broke into a grin. “Wife!” he called. “I hope ye’ve made plenty of bannocks! We have guests!”

  The woman’s eyes fell on Cam and widened. “Camdan MacAuley! As I live and breathe!”

  Cam’s grin was every bit as wide as Rabbie’s. “Ah, Elspeth, ye look more beautiful than I remember!”

  “Get away with ye and yer silver tongue!” Elspeth said. “And come here, ye big lump.”

  She pulled Cam into a tight embrace and then pushed him to arm’s length, looking him over critically. “Ye seem...well,” she said carefully. “Are ye?”

  Cam glanced at Beth. “Aye,” he muttered. “For the most part. Elspeth, there’s someone here I’d like ye to meet.”

  He quickly introduced Beth and explained the circumstances of their meeting. Elspeth greeted Beth as warmly as her husband had. She ignored Beth’s proffered hand and pulled her into a hug instead.

  “I’m delighted to meet ye, my dear! An outlander? I’m sure ye have lots of interesting tales to tell. Ye can tell us some round the fire tonight!”

  “I...um...okay,” Beth stammered, swept along by Elspeth’s enthusiasm. “But there’s not much to tell really.”

  “Not much to tell?” Elspeth exclaimed. “An outlander from over the sea helps our Cam against bandits and ye reckon there’s naught to tell? Pah! Nay doubt ye’ve seen much of the world. Ah, how I would love to travel! France! Italy!”

  “Wife,” Rabbie said, raising an eyebrow. “Ye dinna even like going into Aberdeen. Ye reckon the noise and bustle gives ye hives!”

  “Aye,” Elspeth said with a smile. “But that doesnae mean I canna dream, does it? Come on,” she said to Cam. “I know someone who’ll be mighty excited ye’ve returned to us.”

  She turned and led the way towards the cottage. “Travis!” she yelled. “Look who’s here to see ye!”

  The squeak of trundling wheels came from inside the cottage and a seated figure emerged into the light. Beth startled in surprise. The young boy was around eight—and he was in a wheelchair. It was a rudimentary design made from wood. The wheels on either side looked like they might once have belonged on a small cart and two smaller wheels on pivots would allow the chair to change direction. A raised rim around the wheel hub allowed the boy to grip as he turned the wheels, moving himself expertly onto the veranda. The ramp in front of the house suddenly made perfect sense.

  “Uncle Cam!” the boy shouted in delight.

  “Travis, ye young whipper snapper!” Cam cried. He ran over, took the boy by the waist, and lifted him effortlessly from the chair. He spun him around—making the boy squeal with delight—before settling him atop his shoulders. “I hope ye’ve been behaving yerself for yer ma and da”.

  The boy nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been verra good, havenae I, Ma?”

  “Well, that depends on yer meaning of ‘good’ doesnae it, Travis, my boy?” Elspeth replied. “I see ye havenae finished yer tasks yet. The chickens still need feeding.”

  “But Ma!” the boy wailed. “I want to talk to Uncle Cam!”

  “And ye will, when ye’ve done what I’ve asked of ye,” Elspeth said firmly.

  “That sounds fair to me, little man,” Cam rumbled. “Why dinna ye go and see to those chickens then come inside? But before ye do, there’s someone I’d like ye to meet. This is my friend, Beth. She’s come all the way from Edinburgh to see us.”

  Travis turned to look at Beth, his eyes going round with curiosity.

  Beth smiled at him. “Hi. Nice to meet you, Travis.”

  Travis gazed up at her, suddenly shy.

  “Wow, would you look at that?” Beth said. “That’s a mighty fine tunic you’re wearing, Travis. What a handsome boy you are!”

  The compliment had the desired affect. Travis beamed. “Ma made it for me. The wool came from our sheep, Molly. Would ye like to meet her?”

  “I would!” Beth laughed. “Maybe you could introduce us later, when you’ve done your chores?”

  He nodded.

  Cam lowered him back into his chair and Travis set his hands to the wheels and pushed himself down the ramp and onto one of the well-worn paths that led around the farm. The path was made of smooth, compacted earth and Beth realized Rabbie and Elspeth must have worked the paths deliberately, compacting them until they were smooth enough for their son to be able to get around their little farm in his chair.

  Beth looked at the crofters with new admiration. Scraping a living out here in this unforgiving wilderness must be hard enough, but to do so whilst caring for a disabled child took a dedication and determination that Beth found inspiring.

  She followed them to the door but paused on the threshold. She looked back, watching Travis. Shouldn’t somebody stay to supervise the child? But as she watched, she realized there was no need. Everything had been made to suit his needs. The latches on the chicken run were low enough for him to reach, the gate wide enough for him to wheel his chair through. She heard him talking to the chickens and as he went inside the birds flocked around him, eager for their dinner. The boy worked with easy self-sufficiency. Beth smiled to herself. Something about the sight of Travis lifted her spirits. It spoke to her of hope.

  She followed the others into the cottage. The first thing she noticed was that it was far bigger than it appeared from the outside. There were several rooms off
a central hallway and the place was neat and tidy—far more comfortable than she’d expected from a lonely croft in the mountains. The walls were thick and appeared to be made of cob—a mixture of mud and straw that hardened like concrete—and had been smoothed with lime plaster. The floor was constructed of flat stones that looked like they might have come from a river bed and thick wooden beams framed the doorways and held up the roof. She felt another of her preconceptions evaporate. This was no peasant’s hut but a snug, well-crafted home.

  Elspeth ushered them into the main room where a large fireplace dominated one wall. Sides of meat hung from hooks and a bread oven built into the side was giving off a delicious smell. A trestle table set before the fire was still strewn with flour and dough.

  “Would ye look at that?” Elspeth tutted. “Such a mess! And in front of guests!”

  She quickly swept the table clean and then dragged it to one side out of the way. In its place she put four wooden chairs in a semi-circle around the fire and bade them all to sit. Beth took a seat next to Cam and sighed gratefully as she sat back, stretching her feet towards the fire.

  Rabbie took out a flask and poured whisky into small, pottery cups. Beth nodded her thanks as she accepted hers, cupping the tiny beaker in both hands and inhaling the heady aroma of the spirit.

  “A toast,” Rabbie said, holding up his cup. “To the return of old friends and meeting new ones.”

  Beth raised her glass then downed the whisky in one. She knew what to expect this time but the fiery liquid still sent her into a fit of coughing. She leaned forward and Cam thumped her on the back.

  “Wow,” she muttered when the coughing fit had passed. “I think that just about blew my head off.”

  Rabbie laughed. “Would ye like another? There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  Beth waved her hand. “Whilst I appreciate the offer I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders.”

  Elspeth nodded sagely. “Most wise, my dear. Rabbie would bathe in whisky if he could. He thinks it’s the only liquid in all the Highlands.”