My Highland Bride (3 page)

Kenna held her breath to keep from shouting “
It isn’t fair”
into the dying flames.
No. I can’t do that.
Granny deserves respect.
No matter how much Granny pissed her off, she couldn’t defy the woman who’d given up so much to ensure that her four granddaughters not only survived their rough beginnings in the thirteenth century but thrived in whatever time Granny chose to place them. “Fine. I’ll see you and Trulie in a week.” Fighting against the squeezing frustration cutting off her air, Kenna stirred the coals one last time and forced out a strained “I love you, Granny.”

“I love you too, gal.” Granny’s pleased chuckle fanned the coals a hotter orange for a brief instant. “You’ll thank me, gal. I promise. You will thank me.”

Kenna slammed the cast-iron door to the stove shut and closed all the dampers. She very much doubted she’d thank Granny when she was balancing on a chamber pot or washing in icy water dipped out of a loch. The thirteenth century.
Dammit.
Kenna shuddered, flopped back on the couch, and dropped her head to her hands.

Keys rattled in the front door right before it swung open and banged against the wall. Giggles and frantic shushing echoed down the hallway. Kenna straightened and glanced at the ancient mantel clock squatting in the center of the bookshelf. Lovely. The twins were home, and they were late. Again.

“Would it kill you two to be on time? Just once?” Kenna snatched up the bowl of popcorn and headed to the kitchen. She was in no mood to deal with bubbly sisters who were currently lucky enough to not have a freakin’ care in the world.

“We’re not that late. It’s only five after,” Lilia said with a glance toward the clock.

Both grinning girls—twins who looked nothing alike—plopped down on stools in front of the bar separating the den from the kitchen.

“And sounds like you’re in a real snit. Are you really that torqued over five measly minutes?” Mairi helped herself to the bowl of popcorn, then peered at Kenna with a look that irritated her even more.

Kenna clenched her teeth and tapped a finger against the countertop to a silent count of ten. She didn’t need to explode at them. It wasn’t her sisters’ fault that Granny had decided her visa to the twenty-first century had expired. She turned to Lilia. “Five minutes is five minutes. We agreed you would both be home by seven so we could go over next week’s schedule at the shop—since, if you recall, we’re introducing the new seasonal line of bath oils.”

A flash of irrational sisterly irritation heated Kenna even further. “And how many times have I asked you not to wear my tops? You stretch them out so much I can’t wear them after you’re done with them.”

Petite but well-endowed Lilia glanced down at the snug T-shirt straining across her full bosoms. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you said you didn’t want this one anymore.”

“What’s going on with you?” Tall, willowy Mairi reached across the counter and gently patted Kenna’s hand. “Spill it, Kenna. You never get like this unless someone’s crossed you. What’s rubbed your fur the wrong way?”

Kenna gripped the edge of the counter so tightly, her knuckles popped. How could she tell her baby sisters their comfortable life was about to get put through the time-travel grinder again? Her heart sank even lower.
How can I tell them I’m about to leave them too?

“You’ve been talking to Granny, haven’t you?”

Kenna nodded without lifting her gaze from the yellowed countertop. “Yes, Mairi. I spoke to Granny. The two of you just missed her.” She huffed out a heavy sigh and sagged against the cabinet. “She sends her love and said to tell you both she’s very proud of you.”

“If that’s what she said, then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Mairi’s eyes widened and she suddenly sat ramrod straight. “Oh, no—is Trulie all right? Please say she didn’t lose this baby too.” Mairi hopped off the stool and rushed around the counter to Kenna’s side.

“Oh, no…not again.” Lilia rounded the other end of the kitchen island.

Kenna waved both sisters a step back. “No. No. Nothing like that. Trulie’s feeling fine, and is due to deliver our little niece or nephew into the world any day now.”

“Then what?” Lilia bumped Kenna with a curvaceous hip and grinned. “Did Granny tell you it was your turn to go back to the past and hook up with a sexy Highlander?”

Kenna didn’t say a word, just turned and glared at Lilia. Baby sister already knew the truth of it, and she hadn’t even needed any of her damn foretelling visions that happened to be her dominant talent as a Sinclair time runner.

“Holy shit, she did, didn’t she?” Lilia’s mouth dropped open.

“Holy shit,” Mairi echoed.

Her sisters’ profound statements pretty much summed up exactly how she felt about the situation. Kenna yanked open the overhead cabinet door, blindly patted her hand to the back of the shelf, and snaked out a dust-covered bottle of brandy. “Granny didn’t exactly put it that way, but she might as well have. You know she’s always had plans on seeing us all settled, and she never liked this point in time on the web. In Granny’s mind, thirteenth-century Scotland is the only era fit to claim as home base.” Kenna plunked the round-bellied bottle down to the counter and nodded to Mairi. “Get some glasses. I need a drink, and you both will too after you hear Granny’s plan.”

“Wow. It really must be bad if you’re gonna let us drink too.” Lilia circled back around and perched on the stool. “Especially Granny’s brandy.”

“Here.” Mairi slid the glasses into a line beside the bottle. “But are you sure you really want a drink? You know alcohol always makes you feel like crap no matter how little you drink.”

Kenna nodded, pulled the stopper free of the bottle, and poured a generous splash of the dark-colored liquid into each of the glasses. They’d gotten this bottle when they’d accidentally missed their targeted era on a practice jump and landed in fourteenth-century Italy. Granny had taken a liking to the sweet brandy and she’d brought a bottle of it back when they’d returned home. What a jump that had been. The girls had loved Italy.

A strained rumble gurgled up from her queasy middle. “I already feel like crap.” And she did. The thought of jumping back to the past had her stomach churning. She often wondered if something was wrong with her. She was a freakin’ time runner, for cripes’ sake. A Sinclair. Born to a long generation of females able to skate back and forth across time whenever they pleased. Kenna downed the swallow of brandy and cringed against the burn. She was some time runner all right. Every time she jumped the web, she vomited everything but her socks. Kenna swallowed hard against the rising nausea, already roiling with a sickly burn.
Damn
. She was about to puke at the very thought of time-running again.

“So when do we leave?” Lilia asked. She sniffed the contents of her glass, wrinkled her nose, and set it back down. “I’m not gonna drink that. It smells like cough syrup.”

“
We
don’t leave.” Kenna licked her lips and refilled her glass with an even more generous splash of Italy’s best. She stared down at the rich ruby liquid as she haltingly forced out the words. “I’m…going alone.”

Mairi intercepted the glass just as Kenna raised it to her mouth. “No more. Not until you’ve shared what’s going on. After that, you can drink all you want and sleep beside the toilet.”

The idea of retching the night away stayed Kenna’s hand. Mairi had a point: making matters worse by self-induced misery was not the solution. “Granny says it’s time for me to jump back. Alone.”

“She wants you to leave us? Here? In this century?” Mairi gathered up the three glasses and set them in the sink.

“I can’t believe Granny would have you leave us.” Lilia leaned forward, propping her chin atop her fists. “What are we supposed to do without an
older adult
to make sure we don’t do anything stupid? I know we’re not considered minors anymore but until we turn twenty-one, we’re still kind of limited when it comes to business dealings. Nobody wants to deal with a couple of kids. What if we need a loan or something to expand the shop? How are we supposed to support ourselves?”

Kenna shoved the ancient brandy bottle back to its place on the high shelf.
So much for fueling myself with liquid courage.
“She says she’s sending a friend to look after the two of you until it’s your turn to jump back. Someone named Eliza. Do either of you remember Granny ever mentioning her?”

“A friend named Eliza.” Lilia straightened on the stool. The dubious look on her face said it all. Lilia didn’t like this sudden upheaval any more than Kenna. “I don’t remember Granny
ever
talking about some woman named Eliza.”

“Is she a time runner too?” Mairi leaned against the counter beside Kenna. Her dark brows puckered with a worried look and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Mairi struggled when it came to meeting new people, because all the Sinclair siblings had learned at a very young age that their survival depended on knowing whom they could and couldn’t trust with their family’s secrets.

“I don’t know.” Kenna closed her eyes and bowed her head. She suddenly felt a great deal older than her twenty-three years.

“How much time do we have left with you?” Lilia slid off the stool and scooped up the sweater she’d tossed across the back of the couch. She hugged the fuzzy gray garment against her chest and stared down at the floor. “I don’t want you to go. I’m tired of our family being split up across centuries. It was bad enough when Trulie and Granny jumped back.”

Kenna’s heart ached at Lilia’s words. She felt exactly the same way. “I don’t want to go either.” She rounded the counter and hugged an arm around Lilia’s shoulders. “But Granny sacrificed so much for us. How can I refuse? I owe it to her to at least give whatever she’s got cooked up a chance. Look how happy Trulie is. Granny’s grand plan worked out great for her.” Kenna struggled to keep her tone upbeat and convincing. Quite a feat, since her spirits were currently sagging so low they could wipe out her footprints.

“We’ll be fine.” Mairi’s voice cracked with emotion, and she turned away.

Kenna blinked hard against the threat of her own tears as Mairi ripped a paper towel from the roll and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

“You’re right. We have to do this for Granny.” Lilia brushed the back of her hand across her cheeks and sniffed.

Kenna blinked faster and swallowed hard against the unshed tears aching in her throat. When had her two little tomboy sisters grown into such mature young women? Kenna coughed and turned away. “Well…we’ve got a week to get me ready to meet my sexy Highlander. So we best stop all these tears and be gettin’ busy.”

Lilia’s sad smile slipped a notch as one corner of her mouth trembled. “So, I guess this means I get to keep this shirt?”

Kenna bit her lip and busied herself with gathering up the paperwork from the shop that was scattered across the kitchen countertop. She silently cursed her wavering voice as she jerked her chin downward in a quick nod. “After we figure out a plan of attack for the shop, you and Mairi can go through my things and take whatever you like.” They might as well. She sure as hell couldn’t traipse around thirteenth-century Scotland in jeans and T-shirts.

Chapter 3

The cheery bells of the shop door jangled. Kenna didn’t turn from the shelf of neatly wrapped blocks of homemade soaps and dried bundles of herbs. There was no time. She had to get the inventory double-checked. Making sure the shop was in order would give her one less thing to fret about when she left. If anything brought her comfort right now, it was marking items off her
I-have-to-do-this-before-I-go
list.

Instead of turning, she concentrated on opening her senses to the room.
Warmth. Joy.
Nothing but good energy radiated through the shop. Whoever had entered was not a threat.
Thank goodness. I can’t handle any more stress.

“Good morning,” she called back over one shoulder. “I’ll be right with you, as soon as I fill this last shelf.”

“Take yer time, dearie. Yer wee apothecary shop smells absolutely heavenly and I could poke me nose about it for hours on end.”

Scottish accent in the small town of Masonville, Kentucky? A tingling sensation of
déjà vu
triggered gooseflesh across Kenna’s skin.
She’s here already?
This had to be Granny’s friend. “You must be…” The rest of whatever she was about to say left her as she turned and faced the visitor.

The platinum blonde, a mature woman whose laugh lines hinted at quite a few decades of mirth, short-stepped forward in a pair of black, rhinestone-studded tennis shoes. The shoes sported three-inch platform heels that flashed rainbows of light on every surface in the shop. Shiny black spandex leggings encased her spindly legs up to the point where her body blossomed into generous curves. A silky, crimson tunic, shot through with silver threads, hugged teasingly low across her ample bosom. The complete picture created by the lady’s flamboyant attire was that of a great sparkling apple set atop two shiny black stems.

The smiling woman held out a finely manicured hand with nails as fiery red and glittering as her blouse. “Eliza MacTavish, dearie. ’Tis a grand pleasure t’finally meet ye.”

Kenna blinked, then slammed her mouth shut. “Please forgive me. I…uh…wasn’t expecting—”
Holy crap! I wasn’t expecting someone like you!

Eliza chortled, clapping her hands until the dozens of silver bracelets adorning both her arms from wrist to elbow rattled like wind chimes during a storm. “Aye, lass. Dinna fash yerself.” Eliza winked as she carefully patted perfect curls that had been firmly shellacked in place. “I dinna usually wear this much red, but I wanted to get cranked up good and proper t’meet the lovely granddaughters of m’verra best friend in all the world.”

“Now those are some awesome shoes,” Lilia said as she emerged from the back room with a basket of multicolored bottles balanced on one hip. Her grin turned into a full-blown smile as her gaze took in the complete Eliza package. “You’ve got to be Granny’s friend.”