Highlander's Captive

by Mariah Stone

  “Hamish?”

  The tall, broad-shouldered figure in the warrior’s coat and chainmail straightened from a crouched position.

  “Lass,” he said, his voice disturbingly quiet. “Ye shouldna be here.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Doesna matter. Ye need to leave.”

  “Why? Craig told the guards to let me pass.”

  “Aye, but it isna safe for ye here.”

  “I just came to see how I can activate the—”

  It occurred to her that Hamish had his cloak on. And he had a guilty look on his face. No, silly. She was just reading too much into this.

  She frowned. It was strange that after all this time, with so many obstacles to get to the stone, now that it was finally free, the last thing Amy wanted to do, was to go.

  She approached the stone, propped her torch against the wall and sank to her knees before the portal.

  “What are ye doing, lass?” Hamish said, alarm in his voice.

  But she ignored him. She carefully traced the cold, wet print with her finger. When she’d done that last time, she’d been thinking of Craig. Of loneliness. Of how she understood what wounds were.

  The stone remained immobile and dead.

  She put her hand into the handprint, completely.

  Nothing.

  “Lass?” Hamish said, his tone careful, as if he spoke to a wildcat.

  But she couldn’t pay attention to him now. She needed to figure out how to make this work.

  What if she needed to think of someone dear to her? What if she thought of Jenny. Of her father. Yes, she hadn’t talked to him for years, but he still was her father. She still loved him.

  Jenny. Poor abandoned Jenny. She’d probably called the police over a month ago. Probably given up hope of ever seeing her again by now.

  Suddenly the river glowed blue, and the road golden-brown.

  “Amy, what the devil?” Hamish’s steps sounded close to her.

  The stone vibrated a little, and her hand began sinking…

  Panic gripped her, a sinking feeling in her chest expanded.

  Quick steps came from behind. “Amy!”

  She jerked her hand back and jumped up.

  Craig. In his coat and chainmail, a sword in his hand. Six more men stood behind him, all armored.

  Screams rang from outside.

  Amy’s feet and hands went as cold as ice, shaking. The sickening feeling of falling through time clung to her even though she’d stopped herself—she knew that on the other side of that rock was a life where she would never see Craig again.

  “What is this glowing rock?” he asked. “Why is Hamish here?”

  Amy’s ability to speak disappeared. Time stopped, every moment stretching into eternity. She let out a shaky breath, and her shoulders crumpled. Her chest caved in. She needed to sit down or lean against something for support.

  She needed Craig.

  There was nowhere to run now. He’d seen her using the stone.

  She could still lie. She could still try to get out of this. Still protect his love and trust, which she’d earned with so much effort.

  No. No more lies. She’d tell the truth. He’d hate her for it, but he deserved to know.

  Her stomach flipped, as if she was skiing down a steep slope and didn’t know if she’d land on her feet or fall and break her neck.

  “Amy, I demand that ye tell me!” he roared, his voice full of rage and helpless.

  She breathed in, as if she could inhale his love, wanting to extend the last moment before Craig would hate her forever.

  And she jumped.

  “I’m not the Amy MacDougall you think I am,” she said.

  Craig winced, as though from pain. “What?”

  “I’m from the future.”

  Craig shook his head in confusion.

  “I traveled in time through this stone.” She pointed at the rock. “By accident. My name is Amy MacDougall, but I’m not the chief’s daughter. I’m a search and rescue officer from the United States of America. I’m sorry I’ve been hiding this from you, Craig. I was afraid you’d kill me.”

  Craig stared, clearly bewildered. “I saw the rock glow just now—I see it must be some sort of magic…”

  She nodded. “I’m from 2020.”

  He shook his head in bewilderment. “So if, as ye say, ye’re nae the chief’s daughter, why is he knocking on our door with five hundred men? Is it nae to retrieve ye?”

  She felt the blood leave her face. Her heart thumped. Her stomach hurt as though pierced by a long, sharp object.

  “No,” she said.

  Craig’s eyes clouded with hurt. “I dinna ken why ye’re saying all this nonsense, but it’s clear I was right. Ye did betray me. Ye lied to me all this time—when I trusted ye with everything.” He looked down for a moment. “What else to expect from a MacDougall?”

  It was as though Amy’s feet were sinking into mud, her chest being torn into painful shreds. “Craig, I’m so sorry—”

  “I came to take ye to safety. The MacDougalls are attacking. What are ye doing here, Hamish?”

  Hamish’s hand slowly went to his sword.

  Craig frowned, then stepped back. He looked at the stone lid that hid the tunnel, now lying beside the opening.

  His face fell. “’Twas ye? Ye found the tunnel? Ye sent the message? Ye killed Lachlan.”

  Amy gasped and looked at Hamish. But he didn’t even deny it. His eyes only darkened. Craig pointed his sword at the man who had been Amy’s only friend…who she saw now had been using her all along.

  Chapter 30

  “Did ye two work together?” Craig said through the agonizing tightness in his throat.

  “Lord, we must make haste,” Owen said from behind Craig. “The gates…”

  Craig nodded, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. A bottomless hole somewhere in the middle of him smarted. He wanted to know the truth, the extent of the lies she’d woven around him. Because he wasn’t sure which he was in love with, the net of her deceptions or the woman herself.

  He needed to know which was which.

  “We didna work together, lord,” Hamish said. “But I am taking yer dearie with me.”

  He grabbed Amy’s hand and yanked her to himself. The tip of his sword was at her neck. Amy gasped, her eyes huge and desperate.

  “Hamish!” she cried, indignant.

  “Let us go, or I will cut her throat, just like Lachlan’s.”

  A low growl escaped Craig’s throat. He should just attack Hamish before he escaped. Judging by the fact that the MacDougalls weren’t pouring out of the trapdoor, Hamish hadn’t told them where it was yet. He shouldn’t care that Amy might get hurt or that Hamish might truly kill her. She didn’t love him. She’d lied about everything.

  No one had ever hurt him like she had.

  And no one ever would again.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to let anything harm her.

  “Craig,” Owen whispered, “we can get him—”

  “Stand back,” Craig said.

  “Let me go, Hamish,” Amy spat and jerked her arm. “You won’t kill me.”

  “Ye dinna ken me, lass,” he said, moving towards the tunnel and pulling her after himself. “I will if I must.”

  It was as though Hamish was pulling Craig’s heart out with his bare hands. Hamish let Amy go into the tunnel first, and as the woman he loved disappeared, his heart was torn in half. And what was left of Craig was a raw, open wound. Aching, whirling, endless agony.

  He watched the lid close and stood still for what felt like an eternity.

  He should go after. He should save her.

  He would, despite her betrayal. He’d still give his own life if it saved hers.

  But he had the castle to protect. The men who relied on him.

  “Put rocks, barrels, tables over the lid,” he said. “Once Hamish tells the MacDougalls where it is, they will try to sneak in. I need at least a dozen men. Even if th
ey manage to shift the weight, no more than one man will be able to come out at once. Now that we ken they’re coming through here, they have no advantage.”

  “Aye, Craig.”

  “Let us go, Owen. The rest of ye, start covering the tunnel.”

  They nodded, and Craig and Owen hurried upstairs.

  “Are ye all right, brother?” Owen said. “That was—”

  “Not now, Owen,” he said. “Dinna ask me about her no more. Not ever. I dinna want to hear her name or remember that she existed. We have a castle to protect.”

  Amy’s heart slammed against her rib cage, and she inhaled the stuffy, cold air with an effort. The tunnel was like a coffin. Like endless, black desperation.

  But the confinement of the tunnel wasn’t what caused her pain and panic.

  It was that the worst had happened in the worst possible way.

  Craig knew the truth.

  She’d seen the unbearable hurt in his eyes, the death sentence of their love. And that was what she felt, too, the unforgiving lash of her own lies as they tore her soul and heart apart.

  “Hold on, lass,” Hamish said. “I ken ’tis nae pleasant, no light here, but I have yer hand.”

  “You were never going to kill me, were you?” she hissed. “I should have just run to Craig.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. Then he threw curtly, “Ye dinna ken me at all.”

  “Clearly. How could you have murdered Lachlan like that?” she said. “And what about the woman he was with?”

  “I thought he was Craig. Who else would have been in his bedchamber, with a red-haired woman?”

  She shook her head. “So you are working for the MacDougalls?”

  He kept silent for a moment, as if deciding what to admit to. Then she felt him shrug. “Aye. They hired me to find the tunnel and kill Craig. But I failed at both.”

  “Why? You found the tunnel.”

  “Aye, but now that Craig kens, he is never going to let them use it. ’Tis only good if ’tis secret, if one attacks unexpectedly, from within.”

  “So what now?” she asked. “Are you going to give me to the MacDougalls?”

  “Nae. I canna show my face to the MacDougalls now. They’ll kill me. Nae, ye and I, we run.”

  “We?”

  “Aye, I need ye as my protection in case Craig decides to come after me. He’d never let harm come to ye.”

  It was as though something sharp stabbed Amy in the chest. “Really?” She chuckled bitterly. “Maybe that was true before. But I’ve hurt him too much now. I betrayed him. He hates me.”

  Hamish sighed or chuckled, or something in between. “If I ken men—and I do ken men on account of being one—he does not hate ye. I hadna realized it before, but I see it now. He’d die for ye, lass.”

  She choked a little from her sadness. “Not anymore, Hamish, not anymore.”

  Soon, the air became fresher, and somewhere before her, over Hamish’s shoulders, she saw a little hint of light.

  “Almost there,” Hamish said.

  In a few more seconds they stopped, and somewhere above was a barely visible semicircle of light. Hamish climbed the stairs and pushed the lid to the side. Light flowed into the tunnel, blinding Amy for a moment. She closed her eyes, letting them adjust. When they stopped hurting, she sucked in fresh air. Hamish looked around.

  “Aye, good. It’s starting to snow. Better hurry.”

  Chapter 31

  They went north, as far as Amy could tell. She memorized signs of where they were going, to find her way back. But after a while, everything looked the same in the white mist. She’d need to return to the castle and then to her time. Beg her way in, bribe her way in, or fight her way in.

  Although the last option would be insane.

  But without Craig, she didn’t have any reason to stay. She had to get home where she could help people rather than cause them pain.

  The snow intensified, and the northern wind bit at her nose and lips. She had her cloak on, thank God, but the rest of her clothes were completely wrong for long, snowy expeditions in the mountains. The skirts of her dress tangled around her legs and restricted her movements. The leather soles of her shoes were flat and slippery, and she fell many times.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed when Hamish stopped and studied their surroundings.

  They were high up a mountain. The snow was thick, and it was much colder than below. A few pine trees grew here, but mostly, a snowy vastness surrounded them.

  “I am going to leave ye here,” Hamish said. “’Tis up to ye now what ye will do. I dinna think Craig followed us.”

  “Of course he didn’t,” Amy said, her throat clenching with bitterness.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “The siege might last a long while. Dinna ken how the MacDougalls will do. But I must hide from them now, so I canna take ye with me. They are a powerful clan and will find me if they wish to.”

  She gasped. “Can’t take me with you? You bastard. You tried to kill Craig and did kill an innocent man.” She clenched and unclenched her fists helplessly. “I should kill you.”

  He cocked one brow. “We both ken ye’re nae capable of murder.” He sighed. “I will never forget ye. There’s no one I’ve met like ye, lass. I hope ye find what ye’re looking for. I hope ye find happiness, wherever ye end up.”

  He waited for her to say something, but numbness enveloped her whole body. She hoped it was the cold and not that the helpless rage, guilt, and heartbreak that shattered her.

  “Go to hell. I honestly hope I never meet you again,” she said somberly.

  Hamish bowed his head, something that might have been remorse flashing in his dark eyes.

  “Just go back quickly that way. The blizzard has already reached its worst and is calming down now. If ye hurry, ye will find the castle.”

  He nodded to her, turned around and left. Amy stood watching him for a minute until he disappeared behind a slope of the mountain.

  An overwhelming loneliness sank into her, the slow snowfall raging in her ears, deadly cold seeping into her bones.

  She needed to move, or she’d freeze to death here.

  She turned and went back south, towards the castle, following their tracks in the snow. Her feet were cold, and she’d stopped feeling her toes soon. Maybe because of that, or maybe because she went down the slope, she fell even more often.

  She was wet, her skirts and cloak heavy from the snow that melted and saturated her clothing. At some point, her mind became cloudy, the white numbness around her creeping into her heart and her mind.

  Maybe that was why she didn’t notice that she was walking way too close to the edge.

  She stepped onto a flat stone. Her foot slipped. She fell and slid, then rolled, bumping her sides against rocks, trying to cover her head.

  Until she finally stopped.

  Amy lay motionless on her side, scanning her body. Good news was, she wasn’t numb anymore. Bad news was, everything hurt. She moved her legs and her arms. Nothing felt broken. She sat up, wincing. Her head thumped from a pulsing pain. She felt her scalp—no blood.

  Good. It looked like she could count her blessings.

  She looked around.

  And swallowed hard.

  Just a foot away, the rocky platform she lay on ended in a ragged edge.

  And below was a white nothingness.

  It was hard to see through the snow, but she was probably at the top of a cliff. The wind was stronger here, throwing snow into her face in hard gusts.

  She looked up, back where she’d come from. A steep, rocky slope covered in snow and ice led up from the small ledge.

  Cold desperation crept into her.

  She was alone.

  Just like in the barn.

  And no one was coming for her.

  There were no walls and no locked doors, but she was trapped just the same.

  Her lungs began contracting, and her fingers went as numb as her toes. Her stomach churned, bile risin
g in her throat.

  She crawled towards the slope, away from the unforgiving vastness beyond the small rocky platform.

  Even though this wasn’t a confined space, she felt more abandoned, more alone, more lost than ever before.

  She was suffocating, her lungs struggling to get enough oxygen. Her head spun, and sweat broke through her skin even though she was ice cold. Everything around her was pressing in, burying her in desperation.

  No one would find her.

  No one was coming.

  Just like those two terrible nights.

  No one needed her.

  No one was coming.

  And then Craig’s voice came to her mind.

  Ye lost yerself somewhere back in that barn… Ye must find yerself first.

  She put her head between her knees and breathed.

  Find herself first…

  What had she lost in the barn?

  She’d been sure her father and mother always had her back. That was a given. No matter how scared she was, how naughty, or how sick—her mom and dad were there for her.

  Until her mom had died and left Amy, Jenny, and Dad alone. No matter how much Amy had needed her mom, Mom wasn’t there—and never would be.

  And then her dad.

  He’d changed, too. It was as though he, too, had disappeared and was replaced by someone else. From being a rock, a protector, a constant, he’d become a drunk. He’d stopped existing, lost in his oblivion. And instead of being a protector, he’d become an aggressor. He’d become the one who’d almost killed Amy.

  So what had she lost in that barn?

  Yes, she’d lost herself. The girl who’d believed that there was one person who would come no matter what. Who would be a rock no matter what. Who would love her unconditionally.

  Instead, out of that barn had come a girl who was scared of life and who thought she didn’t deserve a person who loved her and would always be there for her. That what she deserved was to be abandoned, betrayed, and locked up. Left alone to die.