Outlaw Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander's Time Book 3)

by Blanche Dabney

  He lifted her onto the horse before she could complain, his hands again around her waist to hoist her up. She almost fell but he noticed before she did, his hand in the small of her back, pushing her back into place.

  With no apparent effort, he leaped straight up behind her, shuffling close to scratch the horse between its ears. “You do well to carry us both, lass,” he said as the horse began to move. “Stronger than you look.”

  Lindsey had the strangest feeling he was talking to her rather than the horse. She shook the feeling away as his hands slid back until they were holding her waist. She tried to ignore the tensing up of her body as they rode slowly away from the barn.

  “On the back of this lass we should be there in a few days,” Tavish said.

  The sooner the better, Lindsey thought. And the sooner his hands were off her the better.

  6

  Tavish had not been this close to another person in years. Did she know she had reached out for his hand in her sleep? That she’d twisted and turned and grumbled, only settling when he put a hand on her forehead, shushing her gently, telling her it would be okay.

  He’d sung the songs of the Highlands under his breath, watching in the darkness of the barn until she settled once more, the discomfort fading from her face.

  He’d looked at her for some time before laying back down in the straw. She looked pretty in her sleep, her fiery red hair falling around her face, that tension was gone from her jaw and neck.

  While he’d waited for sleep to come, he’d wondered why she was doing this. There must be more to it than fulfilling Quinn’s wish. She didn’t know him, she had no reason to help him and yet she was. He found himself drawn to her yet he knew there was no point to the feeling.

  Once they retrieved the stone, she’d go back to her own time where she belonged. She wasn’t even born yet. It was a strange feeling to ride behind a ghost. That was what she was, not a person of his time, a spirit passing through.

  “Tell me about yourself,” she said as they passed through a thick wood of oak, the branches reaching together over their head to block out the sun.

  “There’s nothing tae tell.”

  “Come on. You must have a past. Everyone does.”

  “What do you want to ken?”

  “I want to know if the history books have got anything right about you.”

  “What dae they say about me?” He was intrigued despite himself. It was strange to think that he would feature in any books. “Do they talk only of the death o’ the princess?”

  “Not at all. The one I was reading had quite a lot about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “That you were born into the poorest village in the clan, that you and your father left when the plague struck, that you were close to becoming laird in waiting when…”

  He waited but she didn’t continue so he took over. “When Margaret died and they threw me oot. I ken that part. What did it say about me after that?”

  “Nothing. You vanished. There were a couple of theories. One said you’d been executed in secret. Another said you’d joined the English army. My mom said once she thought you’d become a monk.”

  Silence fell once more. Tavish found himself wanting to keep the conversation going. It was an odd feeling. “Tell me about you,” he asked.

  “My life’s nowhere near as interesting as yours.”

  There was a coldness to her voice that intrigued him. Why shut down the conversation so quickly when it turned to her? “You have a life at home, don’t you?”

  “Not much of one. I work in a cafe, I live with my mom. I’ve not exactly got a lot going for me.”

  “What’s a cafe?”

  “Like a tavern.”

  “You’re a kitchen wench?”

  “I’m not sure I’d use that term but yeah, sure.”

  “You sound like you dinnae care for the work.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my boss is a dick. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Any men in your life?”

  She glanced behind her and he pointedly looked back without blinking. Let her think what she wanted. She looked coldly into his face before turning away.

  She clearly wasn’t interested in him and that irritated him for a reason he couldn’t really explain. He should have been glad. Scratch that, he was glad.

  “No,” she said at last, looking back again. “No men in my life. What about you?”

  “No men in my life either.”

  She laughed out of nowhere and the sound lightened him. “That was another joke,” she said. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “If you’ve no men tae go back to and you dinnae like your job, why do you care about going back?”

  “Because of my mom.”

  “Are you no old enough to survive without her?”

  “Says the man who wants to do this to get his father out of a dungeon.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Is your mother chained up in the dark being fed nothing but bread and water?”

  She shook her head, glancing back at him again, her lips pursed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “It disnae matter.”

  “I need to get back to look after her. She bought your old house and she’s been doing it up as a kind of memorial to you, but we ran out of money.”

  She fell silent, her shoulders visibly sagging.

  “What?” Tavish asked. “What ails ye?”

  “Where are you going to hide the locket. If I can tell mom where it is when we get back, we can sell it and make enough to do the house back up. I wasn’t going to say anything but darn it, you just have a way of getting these things out of me.”

  “I havenae hidden the locket. I carry it still.”

  “But you have to hide it. All the history books say you hid it. It’s somewhere in the house but no one knows where.”

  “Why do you want to fix my house anyway?”

  “I don’t but mom does. I want to help her. You must understand that.”

  He glanced further down the road, noticing too late that a group of men on horseback was approaching. He cursed himself for getting distracted by their conversation. “Haud on,” he said, reaching past her to tap the horse on the side of its neck.

  With a kick to its flanks at the same time, it understood what was needed, turning at once and darting into the trees.

  “Keep quiet,” he whispered, pushing branches out of the way as they rode deeper. He should have been paying attention to the road, not to her. If they were to have any chance of surviving this, he needed to concentrate better.

  When they were unable to move any deeper into the trees he stopped, climbing down from the horse and edging back toward the road, listening hard.

  There had been three of them, all dressed in the tartan of the Sinclairs. He could only hope they thought he was a bandit and not worth chasing. He only had his sword and it had been a long time since he’d used it in anger.

  Slipping from one tree trunk to another he reached the road and took a deep breath before peering out. There was no one there. He was about to step back when he felt the tip of a sword blade at the base of his neck.

  “Dinnae move,” a voice said.

  The man was good. No one could sneak up on him unless he’d trained them himself.

  His instincts kicked in at once. Leaning back, he feinted right then dropped down an instant later, the sword left hanging in empty air. On his back, he lashed out with his feet, bringing his attacker down to the ground with a grunt.

  The other two were running at him from behind a tree to his left. He braced himself for their arrival, springing back to his feet, sword in hand. His hood fell back from his face.

  “Come on then,” he snapped. “I’ll have your heeds on a platter.” At once his assailants stopped dead.

  “Tavish?” one said. “Is that y
e?”

  He squinted, examining the two men closely as the third got slowly to his feet.

  “Tavish,” the fallen man said, slapping his arm. “Good tae see you again.”

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Do you nae recognize us now we’re grown and wi’ beard?”

  The voice rang a bell. He scrutinised them further before speaking. “Billy? Jock? And is that wee Matthew?”

  “Aye. Wit are ye deein’ so close to Castle MacIntyre? Have you got the stone? If any could get it, ah’ve no doubt it’d be you.”

  “Nae but ah’m on me way tae fetch it. Have ye news of me father?”

  “Aye. He lives still. Quinn tends to him daily. The druid’s the only one the laird dare not cross.”

  Tavish’s breath caught in his throat. He coughed to clear it. “Good.” With the druid looking after his father, he could be sure of his safety.

  “We’ll tell him you’re alive. He’ll be awfa glad.”

  “Tell him ah will see him again soon.”

  There was a noise from the road, a horse riding by at speed. Matthew peered out from the trees. “We must go. We cannae be seen talking to ye.”

  “You’re old enough to patrol? Ah remember when none of ye would leave the castle for fear o’ the English.”

  “Aye, well,” Jock said, blushing behind his beard. “That were long ago.”

  Billy smiled. “And we have you to thank for keeping us alive this long. You were the best swordmaster a boy could wish for. Trained us to be silent as the crypt. Did ye really no hear us creeping up on ye?”

  “Ye have learned well, the three of ye.”

  “Always with the same start to every bout,” Matthew said. “Come on then.”

  They all said at once, “I’ll have your heeds on a platter.”

  The group laughed and Tavish found himself laughing with them. It was a strange sound, his chest rumbling with it.

  Billy was the first to turn serious. “It’s because of your training that we survived going to war. They were fools to send you away. It was an awfa shame wit they deed to ye. We tried to make the laird see reason, but he wouldnae listen.”

  “Let’s no talk of that,” Tavish said. “Ahm glad ye are all well. Get gone. Ah’ve no wish tae cause ye bother.”

  “Listen, Tavish. Be careful. The MacIntyres would be awfa glad of an excuse to besiege the Sinclairs. Ah hope ye have a good plan for getting the stone.”

  Tavish nodded. “Ah do.”

  The three of them were gone without another sound. It was as if they’d never been there. They had learned well.

  “Who was that?”

  He almost jumped. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the horse making its way back to him, Lindsey still sitting on its back.

  “Ah thought I told you to stay hidden.”

  “I tried but this horse of yours has a mind of her own. She was coming back to you with or without me. Who were they? Are we in danger?”

  “From Billy, Jock, and Matthew? They were the three smallest bairns I ever taught war tae.”

  “They didn’t look that small to me.”

  “A decade older than when ah last saw them. I remember them crashing through the woods when ah was trying tae teach them tae track silently.”

  “Looks like it finally paid off.”

  “What makes ye say that?”

  “I saw them sneaking up on you. They were like ghosts. I didn’t even hear the leaves rustle under their feet.”

  “You saw them and they didnae see you? You’ve got hidden talents, lass. Come on, we better get moving. We have a way to go yet.”

  He climbed up behind her and brought the horse back onto the road. Glancing both ways before setting off he vowed not to lose concentration again. He spoke little until they stopped for the night.

  “Where are we?” she asked as he headed off the road, following a stream downhill into a glen. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Aye, this is the land o’ my childhood. The village I grew up in is over the next hill and glen.”

  “Does that mean your old house is near here somewhere?”

  “Aye. About a mile that way.”

  “Can we see it? I mean if we keep going, please.”

  “We will be spending the night there.”

  He took the familiar trail, the one he’d never forgotten. The path was overgrown, little wonder since the house had been empty so long. Through the glen and out the other side and then along a cut between two hills, a winding valley that came out in a wide opening.

  There at the far end was the looming bulk of Garra Fell.

  They rode on as the last of the light died. It didn’t matter anymore. He could have traveled this stretch blindfolded, the memory of this land had never faded, not in all the years he’d been away.

  As they rode, his hand went to the pocket in his hose. He felt for the locket and a thought occurred to him.

  She looked back at him, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking like tiny stars.

  He liked it when she looked at him. There was no denying she was a pretty enough lass, even if her face spent most of its time hidden under the hood of her cloak.

  He noticed his breathing had loosened as if the air grew thinner. It was just the fell.

  So why was his heart pounding? It was because he was nearly home, that was all.

  They crested the fell and there it was, he was home. She turned and looked where he was pointing. “Ma hoose.”

  He had no idea what he expected her to say but the last thing he expected was for her to burst into tears.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, putting an arm around her shoulder, drawing her back toward him. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’m fine.”

  7

  Lindsey felt far from fine even as she forced the words out. She swallowed her sadness, trying to make the tears stop.

  Tavish climbed down from the horse first, leaving it to munch the grass beside the entrance to the house.

  That was where mom’s car was. The horse was standing on the exact spot where their clapped out old red Ford sat waiting to die.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked again, reaching up with his hand to help her down.

  As she climbed down, she almost stumbled, her vision blurred. He took hold of her and didn’t let go, his arms around her waist. He drew her to him, and her head fell into the crook of his shoulder.

  The tears grew heavier. He said nothing, just held her there. She could feel the warmth of his chest through his cloak, the slow and steady breathing that did not change the entire time he was holding her.

  If only it could work, she thought, and that sent a fresh batch of tears to her eyes. She stamped her feet, determined to stop it. What good would crying do? It wouldn’t get her back to her mom. She’d made her decision. She had to help him first.

  She was no longer sure why she was crying. Was it because she was again wondering what it would be like to stay with him? Or was it because seeing the house had brought it all back.

  “I miss my mom,” she said quietly, her voice muffled by his chest.

  He still didn’t say anything, his arms gripping her tightly, giving her time. It was time she badly needed.

  She felt exhausted all of a sudden, her legs turning weak. When he took her hand to lead her inside, she didn’t complain.

  The house had clearly been empty for some time but it was still in much better shape than in her time.

  He brushed debris aside from a chair, and then eased her into it, dragging over another chair before once again taking her hand.

  “It’ll be all right.” He looked like he was about to say something but then he didn’t. “There is nothing wrong wi’ missing her,” he said at last.

  “It’s not just that,” she replied, pulling her hand away to wipe her face, sniffing loudly as she did so. “Attractive, yeah?”

  He shrugged but said nothing.r />
  “It’s just seeing the house, it reminded me of everything. She’s taken care of me ever since dad ran out on us both. I don’t know how she did it, juggling work and baby me. Then she got sick and now she’s better but I can’t help her. Somehow, she managed and we survived. I’ve spent all my life wanting to make it up to her and I can’t and it kills me.”

  She looked up at him as he cleared his throat. “Ma father told me something when ah was wee.”

  “What?”

  “He said no parent looks after their children for reward. They do it because it’s the right thing to do, you ken? Your mother didnae look after you so you could pay her back later. She did it because she loved you.”

  Lindsey’s shoulders hitched but she managed to keep the tears at bay. “I know she loves me. When she was ill, I had to drop out of school and get work or we’d have been homeless. I never got the qualifications for a decent job.

  “I’ve spent my whole life wanting to help her and instead I feel like I’ve been treading water the whole time. If I stop, we both might drown and here I am gallivanting around while she’s at home with no money and no hope of getting this place fixed.”

  “You dinnae know what the future might bring.”

  “Easy for you to say. I could just bring you the book of your life and you’d know everything about the future.”

  He shook his head. “Your book can say what it wants. Ah ken it has no been written yet. Ma future isn’t set until ah make it. You already said ah vanish. What if ye coming back here has changed all that?”

  She frowned then shook her thoughts away. “Are you going to give me the tour or what?”

  It was surreal to walk through the house with him. By modern standards the place wasn’t large but compared to the villages they’d traveled through it was a decent enough size, spread across two floors.

  The first floor consisted of an entrance hallway with a kitchen to the left, the fireplace in the middle of the room.

  “No chimney,” Lindsey noted, remembering what she’d learned about this era, that in most places the smoke rose from a central fireplace up through the thatch, choking the lice and fleas on the way.

  There was a roof above the kitchen, the only one-story part of the building. The other side of the hallway was the room they’d first entered.