The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) (10 page)

“’Tis a pleasure to meet you both,” Sky murmured.

His knees went a little weak at the appearance of her shy smile. She was so pretty, with those big hazel eyes, and all that lustrous hair . . . not to mention those curves. Lord, she was a temptation. “I just need to clean up here.”

“OK,” Lindsay said. “Sky and I will bring in the horses from the pasture while we wait.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, bring in my mare with the rest,” Andrew said. “I put her out when I got here this morning.”

“I ride,” Brian added, his tone hopeful.

“Oh? Good for you.” Lindsay turned toward the doors. “Come on, Sky. Let’s go lure the horses in with a bucket of grain.” With that, she walked away, Sky trailing after her.

“Why don’t you just ask Lindsay out?” Struan frowned at Brian. “The moon-eyes and not-so-subtle hints aren’t going to get you anywhere with her.”

“She might say no,” Brian muttered, his shoulders slumping.

“She might say yes.” Struan started putting away the tools on his workbench. “You’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot. Lindsay is a strong, confident woman. She’s attracted to men who are equally confident. Step it up if you want her to notice you.”

“Augh.” Brian removed his safety visor. “I’ve always
been
strong and confident when it comes to women, only not with your sister. She kind of sucks all the wind right out of my sails, if you know what I mean.”

“Really? I never would have guessed,” Andrew teased. He untied his apron, took it off and hung it on its hook. “I’ll help you, Struan, so you can go riding with that pretty little Scottish lass. Remember what I said earlier. Slim pickings around here in the single women department.”

Struan scowled at his friend. “I’m not getting involved with Sky. She’s not going to be here for long.” If she had her way, that is.

Once the three of them closed the shop for the day, Brian took off on his motorcycle, still dejected. Struan had offered him advice, and it wouldn’t be on him if Brian chose not to take heed. He and Andrew walked together toward his stables.

“Did you ever think maybe Sky came through time to land at your feet due to some cosmic matchmaking scheme?” Andrew asked.

“No, I didn’t, and anyway, she’s in no position to start something. Having been displaced myself, I know how confusing and overwhelming everything is for her. She’s in a vulnerable place. I feel a proprietary sense of . . . protectiveness where Sky is concerned, but that’s all.”

“Right,” Andrew said again, glancing askance at him. “Proprietary like a big brother?”

“Doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’m looking after her only because she needs me.” Given the way his blood rushed at the sight of her, the way he wanted to taste her sweetness, touch her? Nope. Not a brotherly feeling in the least.

Lindsay and Sky had the horses bridled and in the corral by the time they arrived. He and Andrew helped them saddle the horses, and Struan led the gelding Sky favored to the mounting block. “Up you go, princess.”

“It’s Sky.” She huffed out an exasperated breath.

“All right. Have it your way.” Struan winked. “Up you go, Princess Sky.” He didn’t wait for her to step up onto the mounting block; instead, he placed his hands around her waist and lifted her. Mostly he’d just wanted an excuse to put his hands on her. The color rising to her cheeks was an unexpected bonus. He brought the reins over the gelding’s neck and placed them in her hands. “How are you? Did you sleep well last night?”

“I fare well enough, and I’m well rested.” Her expression clouded, belying her words.

He searched her face for some hint of what might be troubling her, and it took a minute before he remembered how anxious she’d been about reaching the McGladreys. Getting lost in her the way he did, he forgot everything except the magnetic pull she exerted on him. “I spoke with Connor this morning, lass. He and his wife will be here this evening or tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Her face lit up. “Truly?”

“Truly. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He patted her denim-clad knee before heading for his mount. Guilt nipped at him, and he hoped she hadn’t caught a whiff of his half-truth. He had lied to her already. In fact, more than once if you counted omission.

“See you tomorrow,” Andrew said, turning his horse toward the path that would take him home. “Nice meeting you, Sky.”

“And you,” she called back.

He, Lindsay and Sky took to the trail heading into the forest behind his house. The way was wide enough to ride two abreast. Lindsay took the lead, with Sky riding beside her. Struan took up the rear, brooding over his unworthy lack of openness and honesty where Sky was concerned.

“You’re awfully quiet, Struan.” Lindsay glanced back at him. “I figured you’d be bragging about our valley by now. Something bothering you?”

“Just thinking.” He nudged his horse into a trot to close the gap between them. “I’d always thought I was the only one in the world to have passed through the centuries the way I did. Guess I’m not so special after all. Sky’s stories about her time-traveling kin, Connor McGladrey’s experience, it’s all . . . we’re connected somehow, by our common experience if nothing else.”

“It is a lot to take in, and not just for you, but for all of us.” Lindsay peered over her shoulder at him. “Michael thinks we have fae genes, like Sky’s family, and that’s why we’re part of this bizarre circle. What do you think, Sky?”

“’Tis possible, but our meeting could as easily be naught but fae capriciousness or even an accident. No matter where I landed, wouldn’t those around me see my sudden appearance as an act of fate?”

Struan grunted. “You already know how I feel about all this being a random encounter. There are too many coincidences for me to believe your coming to us is mere chance. I don’t have fae blood running through my veins. I don’t know any faeries to bargain with for such a trip. So why did I come through time, and why am I part of all this?”

“Because shit happens?” Lindsay laughed. “Who knows?”

Struan grunted. The trail narrowed, and they were forced to ride single file. He glanced ahead at Sky. Once again she studied the shadows in the forest, her posture stiff with tension, and her expression anxious. Was that her dirk tucked into the back of her jeans? “Sky.”

“Aye?” She twisted around in her saddle to look at him.

“There are no brigands, reavers or cutthroats in our wood, lass. I give you my word; we will not be ambushed today.” Her answering smile stole the air from his lungs. Or . . . the wind from his sails, as Brian had said? He drew a breath, just to prove to himself that he still could. They came to the end of the forest and continued on through a hay field of clover, alfalfa and timothy grass to the bridge across the stream.

“So, what do you think of Gordon Hollow, Sky?” Lindsay asked.

“’Tis a wonderful place. You are most fortunate to live here and in this time.”

Was that a hint of sadness or regret in her tone? Struan studied her, remembering the turbulence of his own past, the plots and counterplots and his half siblings’ attempts to do away with him. Back then, moments when he could let down his guard and just
be
had been few and far between, and all of them had happened while with his father or the blacksmith to whom he’d been apprenticed.

“You’re welcome to stay, you know,” Lindsay told her. “If you’re not able to return to your time, that is.”

“I must return. I
will
find a way.”

“But if you can’t, just know that you have a place with us,” Lindsay added. The three of them crossed the bridge and the trail widened, transforming into a narrow gravel road again.

“I am most grateful to you for your kindness, but let us speak no more of such matters. ’Tis a fine day, and the way ahead is clear. I’ve a mind to let this fine animal have a canter. May I?”

“Of course,” Struan said. “We’ll join you.”

Sky leaned forward and kicked the gelding’s sides. The gelding took off at a gallop, rather than a canter. Struan and his sister urged their mounts to catch up, as Sky’s laughter drifting back taunted them to race with her. She surged ahead, widening the gap between them. Heaven help him, she sat her horse as if born riding.

The tie holding her braid came loose and fell to the ground, and her hair began to unravel. Sky flew like the wind. Joy and exhilaration fairly pulsed from her as she rode with wild abandon. Fearless. Magnificent. Never had he seen such a compelling sight.

He lost a little piece of his heart, maybe not the first bit she’d stolen. Struan kicked his mount’s sides, narrowing the space separating them. When Sky saw he was gaining ground, she cast him a look of challenge, leaned low over her horse’s neck and sped up, triggering a primitive response.

He
was in pursuit;
she
was his quarry.

The need to dominate, to prove himself better, faster, stronger, able to protect and provide, overrode all common sense. Once Struan reached her side, he reached out and snatched her from the saddle, bringing her to sit across his lap. She squealed and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Pulling back on the bit, he slowed his mount to a smooth canter, and then to a walk.

The exhilaration of the chase gripped him. Satisfaction at the outcome thrummed through his veins, and before he knew what he intended, he leaned close to claim his prize. His mouth took hers in a scorching kiss.

What began as yet another primitive urge to demonstrate his supremacy, soon turned to his utter defeat. She smote him where he sat, for he had no defenses against the softness of her lips, her taste or her unique intoxicating scent. Her breasts pressed against his chest nearly obliterated his restraint. He deepened the kiss, his tongue plundering her sweetness.

At the sound of approaching hoofbeats, Struan forced himself to break the contact. Breathless, he peered into Sky’s hazel eyes, inordinately pleased by the befuddled awe suffusing her beautiful features. He tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, needing to feel the silken texture between his fingers. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

Somehow she’d managed to rob him of the ability to muster a single sensible thought. It was a good thing their woods weren’t filled with brigands, because should any attack at the moment, they’d find him as helpless and as blind as a newborn kitten.

Lindsay rode up beside them, catching Sky’s riderless horse by the reins. “Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events.” She chortled. “What have you to say for yourself, Struan?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

D
azed, Sky struggled to catch her breath while Struan continued to hold her on his lap. She’d been kissed. Thoroughly. By the saints, she’d kissed him back . . . with equal fervor! ’Twas her first, and her wits had scattered like goose down caught in the wind. She pressed her fingers against her still-tingling lips, lips that had just been pressed against Struan’s.

To make matters worse, she couldn’t ignore the evidence of his aroused state against her bottom, or the answering throb between her thighs. Did he suspect? Her face burned. How could he not be aware of how he affected her? She couldn’t bear to look at him—or at Lindsay. How would she face his parents? “Och,” she stammered, “mayhap you’d best put me
back
on the gelding.”

Struan loosened his hold. “I’m sorry. I . . . I got caught up in . . . hmm—”

“An overload of testosterone?” Lindsay offered, her tone smug.

Was that amusement Sky sensed? She found nothing amusing about what had just happened. Never before had she been so swept away or behaved in such an unladylike manner. Struan brought his horse alongside hers, supporting her weight while she put her foot in the stirrup and transferred herself to the saddle. Her insides still fluttered, and his hands upon her waist sent her blood rushing again. “I did no’ mean to—”

“Entirely my fault.” Color crept up his neck and he too struggled to regain his breath. He kept his gaze fixed upon the trail. “This way leads to a ford in the stream.” He pointed. “We’ll cross there. Then the trail takes us back to my place.” He nudged his horse into a trot and took the lead, putting a little distance between them.

Lindsay came to ride beside her. Sky’s face flushed. “I dinna ken what came over me.”

“My brother chased you,” Lindsay quipped. “You were caught.”

“He . . . Struan . . .
kissed
me.”

“From where I sat, it looked like you kissed him back.”

“Aye.” Chagrined, she glanced ahead to where Struan rode. “I did.” Even to her own ears, she still sounded breathless.

Lindsay grinned. “Don’t be embarrassed about what happened. It was just a kiss.”

Just a kiss?
Sky frowned. “Is such a thing taken so lightly in this age?”

“Much more lightly than in your era, I’m sure. Relax, Sky. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s enjoy it. I understand what my brother meant. He got caught up in the excitement of the chase is all. Believe me, he’s as embarrassed about the whole thing as you are.”

“Think you?” Sky’s gaze shot to Struan again, taking in the masterful way he sat his horse, the broadness of his shoulders . . . his very fine backside. A fresh wave of heat shot through her.

“I know so.” Lindsay gestured toward the ley spread out before them. “My brothers, sister and I used to tear through this valley on horseback all the time when we were younger. We also spent endless hours splashing around in the stream, catching crayfish in the shallows and grasshoppers and fireflies in the tall grass. I’m very lucky to have grown up here.”

Grateful for the change in subject, Sky’s thoughts went back to the carefree years of her youth. “My siblings and I oft raced our horses through the hills surrounding Moigh Hall as well. ’Twas my favorite sport.”

She caught movement at the edge of the forest beyond the kine grazing peacefully in the pasture. Three deer and their fawns left the forest, most likely searching for more tender fodder. “Do your kin hunt these woods?”

“Sometimes, and we also fish.” She pointed to a gap between two hills. “We have a small lake through that pass. If you’d like, I’ll take you swimming there on my next day off. Our lake is so clean, you can see clear to the bottom. It’s beautiful, one of my favorite places.”

“I would like that.” Sky smiled. “I can tell you’re quite attached to your valley.”

“Absolutely. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.” She surveyed their surroundings and sighed. “I’ve traveled all over with my family, but I’ve never found a place that calls to me the way home does. I want to open a restaurant right here in Warm Springs, something that will appeal to tourists and the locals.”

“I feel the same about Loch Moigh. I wanted to remain at home and become a healer like my mother and cousin, but young women of my rank are no’ so free to choose.” The searing sensation of Struan’s embrace, his mouth on hers, came back to her in a flood of longing. ’Twas frivolous to desire things she would never have—like a husband who would love her despite her oddities. ’Twas not to be.

If only she’d been born in a different time. Duty to her rank, clan and her father’s title had been deeply ingrained, and she hadn’t the will to act against the expectations placed upon her by virtue of her nobility. Her only hope was that after the Erskines’ treachery, she’d be allowed to remain unwed. Mayhap she’d follow her granddam’s example and hie herself off to an abbey to avoid marriage altogether. Of course, her granddam had her grandsire to come after her, whilst Sky had no one.

Soon, Struan’s cottage came into view. A car had been parked in front, and Michael stood with an unfamiliar couple. Struan kicked his gelding into a canter, and Sky followed. It had to be the McGladreys. By the time she reached them, Struan had already dismounted. He turned to help her. “I can manage,” she muttered, but his hands were already on her waist.

Struan lifted her down before she could stop him, and once again her insides tumbled at his touch. She did her best to quell the sensations and focused upon the couple. Struan took her by the elbow and led her to them.

“Welcome,” he said. “I’m Struan. This is Sky Elizabeth and my sister Lindsay. You must be the McGladreys.”

“Aye, I’m Connor, and this is my wife, Katherine.” Connor reached out, and he and Struan clasped hands for a moment.

“Nice meeting you.” Lindsay gathered the reins of their mounts and led them toward the stables. “I know you have things to talk about, so I’ll take care of the horses.”

“Thanks, Lindsay,” Struan called after her.

Sky couldn’t help but notice Meghan’s resemblance to her parents. Meg’s hair was red like her da’s, though his was now threaded with silver, and she strongly resembled Katherine in her features. Connor and his wife studied Sky with a mixture of hope and wariness.

“I assure you,” Sky began, “Meghan is content. She’s well settled and has two bairns, or at least that’s how many she and my brother had at the time I—”

“Oh God,” Katherine cried out, tears springing to her eyes. Connor put his arm around his wife’s shoulders, his own eyes bright.

“Let’s go inside where we can talk.” Struan opened his front door. “Where are you staying while you’re here?”

“We’ve not yet made arrangements. Our primary goal when we set out was to hear news of our daughter,” Connor rasped out. “I was there when she was taken from us.”

“You’re welcome to stay in my camper. I have an outlet so you can connect to electricity, but I don’t have a way to hook up the camper to a water source.” Struan turned to Michael. “Do Ma and Da know the McGladreys are here?”

“Yep. Mom already invited them to dinner. They stopped at our house first, and I brought them here.”

“Good.” Struan ushered all of them inside. “Whiskey or ale?”

“I believe a dram or two of whiskey would serve,” Connor said, his voice hoarse. “Katherine?”

“Yes, thank you.” Katherine ran her fingertips under her eyes. “Whiskey would be most welcome.”

“Do you have wine?” Sky asked.

“No wine, sorry.”

“Ale then, if you please.”

Struan and Michael left to fetch their libations, and Sky studied the chamber. Struan’s cottage boasted a floor of wooden planks that shone with some sort of polish. A jewel-toned floor rug covered the area where comfortable seating had been arranged in a U shape. One wall of his small living room, as the Gordons referred to such a chamber, held a variety of swords, shields and daggers. Struan’s cozy home so reflected his personality, she had to smile. Hopefully she’d have the chance to explore the rest soon.

Another wall held pictures, and she moved closer to take a look. Many of the framed images were of Struan and the Gordons at various Renaissance fairs. Some were taken on the inside of the Gordons’ home with the family grouped together. One frame held what must be a wedding picture of Ethan and Carol. Carol held a bouquet of flowers and wore a long white gown and veil. Ethan stood proud and tall beside her, with Struan and Michael beaming by his side. Struan’s contentment with this time and place came through so strongly, she couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.

“So, you’re related to our daughter?” Katherine came to stand beside her. “She’s truly OK?”

Sky bit her lip and nodded, nearly overcome with the strong emotions coming from Meghan’s mother. “Aye, she married my foster brother, the baron DúnConnell. He is the man who took her from you. Hunter believed the battle he saw was real, and that he was snatching away a young knight who would surely have been killed.”

“I figured that much the day it happened,” Connor rasped out. “I can’t fault him for his actions. Under the circumstances, I would have done the same.”

“Hunter and Meghan have a fine, braw lad, whom they named Connor, after you,” she told them. “Erin and Robley also named one of their sons Connor. We view you as kin to us.”

Katherine brought her trembling hand to her mouth for a moment, struggling to contain her emotions. “You said bairns,” she managed to whisper.

“Aye. The day I left, Meghan was due to give birth at any time. Erin is with her, my lady, and she’s very skilled at midwifery. She saved my mother’s life when my twin brothers were born. Your daughter is in good hands.”

“I have grandchildren I might never get to hold,” she choked out. “I might never even see them.”

Connor turned his wife into his arms. “Someday, my love. We’ll find a way.”

“Think you ’tis possible to come and go at will?” Sky’s eyes widened. She’d been so disappointed not to find Madame Giselle at the fair, and now her hopes soared once again.

“It may be.” Connor led his wife to the couch. “We’ve been doing a lot of research since the day Meghan disappeared.”

Struan and Michael returned and handed out their drinks. “Let’s all sit,” Struan suggested.

Once they were all settled, Connor asked her to tell them everything that had happened that day, and Sky repeated her story, leaving nothing out. Mayhap the tale held some clue she didn’t see.

“Were there any fae involved in your coming here?” Connor asked. “Did you have any contact with one of the ancient ones before you came forward through time? Was the one called Madame Giselle anywhere in the vicinity?”

“Nay. As I said, I was riding through the forest, and I came across the wavering lights in a clearing. My mount balked and threw me, and I tumbled through.”

The McGladreys exchanged a knowing look. Connor set his whiskey down and rose to his feet. “I’ll be right back. I left something in the car you need to see.” He strode across the room and out the front door.

“This is a beautiful valley,” Katherine commented. “And your home is very nice, Struan.”

“Thanks. I like it.”

Sky watched the door for Connor’s return whilst Katherine, Struan and Michael spoke of inconsequential matters. What could he have to show her? She’d felt his excitement and anticipation. Even without her gifts, his tension was a tangible force in the small cottage.

Connor returned carrying a tube of some sort and a leather satchel. “Do you have a place where I can lay out a couple of maps?”

“Sure. In the kitchen.” Struan got up and led them into a chamber resembling the Gordons’ eating hall, only without the hearth. One end was for cooking and held his pantry cabinets, and the other end was where a trestle table and several chairs stood. Like the Gordons’, Struan’s eating area also had sliding doors leading outside to what they referred to as a
patio.

Michael hurried over to the table and cleared the surface, while Connor set the satchel on one of the chairs. He removed a cap from one end of the tube and removed a roll of some material akin to parchment. “Do you have something we can put at the corners to hold these maps down?”

“Sure, we can use coffee mugs.” Struan went to one of his cabinets and started handing mugs to Michael.

Once the maps were laid out flat, Sky drew closer to take a look. One was of Scotland, the other of Ireland. Both had clusters of red dots in specific areas, and the areas were scattered over both maps. “What do these red spots mean?”

“Since Meghan’s disappearance, Katherine and I have traveled to Ireland and Scotland looking into local legends and tales—stories about people who have vanished, or folks who have suddenly appeared decades after having gone missing.” Connor reached into his satchel and pulled out a laptop. “I’ve scanned a lot of the stories if you want to read them.”

Struan had gone pale, and his eyes were riveted upon a particular place on the map of Scotland. “What . . . uh . . . I don’t know what to make of this.” He touched a spot with several red dots. “This is near Berwick where I fought at Halidon Hill in 1333. This . . . this has to be where I came through to this century.”