Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “Nay, lass. He shook his head adamantly back and forth.”

  “All righty then.” And that was the end of that. Afterwards he shut his eyes once more and did not open them again until I pulled into the back lot of the hotel.

  “We are here,” I said, putting the car in park and killing the engine.

  Gavin slowly released his death grip on the dash, and opened his eyes once more, all the while hoping this was the last time he would have to be in the metal beast. “How far away are the games?”

  “We are pretty close. I saw the sign for the entrance before we turned.” I grabbed my purse out of the backseat. “You want to come with me while I check in or would you rather wait out in the car, again?”

  “I think I will wait.”

  “Suit yourself.” I doubted he would want to get out of the car but thought I would ask in the event he actually might change his mind for once. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He merely nodded.

  Opening the door, I climbed out. The air was just as chilly here as it was back in West Virginia. Zipping up my jacket, I headed across the parking lot to the hotel lobby. It wasn’t that fancy of a hotel and unfortunately, I doubted they would have room service but it was the closest hotel to the games. I saw a Domino’s Pizza just down the road a piece and figured if he wanted something to eat I could order it from there, or run down and pick it up myself, real fast.

  Twenty minutes later, I had a room secured for four nights. The festival lasted for three days: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Tomorrow was the first day. Being selfish, I made a few wishes for foul weather again, but according to the clerk in the hotel, it wouldn’t be likely since they were apparently experiencing a drought—which was just my luck. The room I rented was on the second floor but it was accessible from a set of outside stairs to her left. And fortunately, per the desk clerk, the pizza place I spotted, did deliver here.

  If I wasn’t in such a foul mood I might have taken a moment to appreciate the quiet beauty of the place. Leaves were already turning from summer green to shades of yellow, orange, and red. The air was crisp and fresh, a reminder that fall was just around the corner. Normally, I would have enjoyed all of those things but I couldn’t, because Gavin would probably be leaving and I still had no idea how I was going to go with him, if that was even possible at this juncture.

  ♦

  Gavin set the luggage down on the floor of the hotel room. “Lass?”

  “Yes,” I said, turning from shutting the door.

  “Are ye angry with me?”

  I frowned. “No,” I lied, sort of. I wasn’t exactly angry with him, but I was upset at the prospect of him leaving.

  “I do not want ta leave.”

  A glimmer of hope unfurled inside of me. “Then why are we here?”

  That pained look I had seen so often of late was back on his handsome face. And my glimmer of hope evaporated just as quickly as it began.

  “Because I have ta leave. Ye know that.”

  “Whatever, Gavin.” I threw the bag on the floor, venting my frustration.

  “Och, lass. What did yer bag ever do ta ye?”

  I knew he was trying to be funny but I wasn’t in a laughing mood. “Nothing.” I stomped my foot down for good measure and instantly wished I didn’t because it hurt.

  Hobbling over to the chair, I sat down. “What do you want from me?”

  He frowned. “I do not know.”

  “Well, that’s great. I don’t know what you want from me either.”

  Gavin made his way across the room and sat down in the chair opposite from hers. “I have enjoyed our time together, I want ye ta know that.”

  “I have too.” My voice came out all whinny. I sounded pathetic.

  “There, there, lass,” he said, reaching forward and patting her hand.

  I jerked my hand away. “Stop that.”

  He frowned. “Do I repulse ye now?”

  “No. You don’t repulse me.” I shook my head, trying not to cry.

  “Then why do ye not want me to touch ye?”

  “Because you are leaving and you don’t want me to go with you and I don’t know what I am going to do when you are gone, that’s why.” My lip trembled and I bit it.

  “Ye will be fine lass,” he said. “I am sure ye will meet someone wonderful and have a right happy life together.” Gavin was trying to be helpful but even as he said it, his heart tightened at the thought of her being with someone else.

  “No. I won’t,” I sobbed. “I will be all alone like I was before I met you.”

  “Lass, please, do not cry. I can no take it if ye cry.”

  “Well, get used to it. I have a feeling I might be doing this for a few more days.”

  “Mayhap ye should go back home and let me tend ta this gypsy business by myself.”

  I gaped at him, not believing what he just said. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Then instead of fighting, shouldn’t we make the best of our time together?”

  He was right, of course, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to hit him. “Sure. I’ll just act like you aren’t going to leave me. How’s that?” I was being sarcastic, of course.

  “That would be nice.”

  “Argh!” I felt like pulling out my hair.

  He frowned again. “There is no need ta vent yer anger on me, lass. Ye knew when ye pulled me through the mist with ye, that I would have ta go back ta my own time at some point.”

  “No. I didn’t. I thought you would want to stay. There is nothing for you back there.”

  “Callum is there and Muir, as well as Alec and Graham. I made the deal with the gypsy. If I am not there ta make amends, make good on my promise ta her and the King, they will seek retribution from my men, and they will be the ones that will have ta pay for my mistakes. Is that what ye want?”

  Now that he put it that way, I immediately felt bad. “No. I don’t want them to have to pay for your mistakes.”

  “Do ye now understand why I need ta leave?”

  “Yes.” I sighed. I wished I didn’t understand why he needed to leave. But I did. Well, now I did, after he explained his reasoning behind it.

  “Can we at least try ta enjoy what little time we have left with one another?”

  My heart hurt—I was sad and angry—my emotions were all over the place. “Yes,” I agreed finally.

  “Come here, lass.” He held out his arms.

  Feeling like I was about to bawl my eyes out, I stood up and fell straight into his arms. Resting my head against his hardened chest, I reached up and wrapped my arms around him—never wanting to let go.

  He smoothed his hand over her hair in gentle strokes. “We will see what the morrow brings, aye.”

  I nodded, tightening my hold.

  As usual, my mind was spinning different variables, trying to figure out a way for him not to go or for me to go with him. My body, of course, had other ideas. It was definitely a turn on to be sitting on Gavin’s lap. And from the hardened object pressing against my bottom, it would seem Gavin wasn’t immune either.

  Wiggling my butt, I snuggled closer to him, inhaling his earthy scent, trying to memorize what he smelled like, how he felt in my arms. Each contour cut into his hardened chest and abdomen. The rounded curve of his buttocks, his sinewy back, his beautiful face—I wanted to inspect every inch of him—burn the images into my memory in the event that I couldn’t go with him—so I would have something to hold on to when he wasn’t with me any longer.

  ♦

  Gavin was becoming uncomfortably hard. He couldn’t help himself with the way the lass was wiggling her bottom on his lap. He wanted nothing more than to take the lass in his arms and kiss her senseless but he didn’t know how she would feel about that since he could tell she was upset about him leaving on the morrow.

  Tired of waiting for Gavin to make a move on, I decided that I would just have to get the ball rolling, so to speak, myself. With that thought in mind, I stood up and beg
an taking off my clothes.

  “Lass, what are ye doing?”

  “I’m getting undressed.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  Before the sun began to make an appearance in the early morning light, Gavin was already out of bed, dressed in his plaid, about to leave. He sheathed his dagger in his boot and attached his broadsword, correction, Callum’s broadsword, to his side. Hesitating at the edge of the bed, he watched his lass sleep. The memory of the first time he had seen her thusly, back at Greystone, lying on a fur on his bedchamber floor was clearly etched in his brain. It seemed like a lifetime ago, now.

  Och, he thought, scrubbing his hands over his face. This leaving business was a lot harder than he anticipated. His belly hurt and there was an emptiness settling in his chest. He would miss the lass, more so then he thought possible. But what was he ta do? His men were counting on him, if they were even still alive, his mind chided. And he did owe the King a treasure…and what of Jillian? The feelings that he thought he had for her that were once so strong, seemed farther away than ever before. And she was gone now, so what did it matter?

  He didn’t have any answers to his many questions and it didn’t seem at this juncture that he ever would.

  Even though he did not want to, he knew he needed to leave before she woke. With that thought in mind, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers for the last time.

  A sweet smile tugged at the corners of her pretty bow shaped lips. His heart stuttered at the sight. He stared down at her for a moment longer, wanting to memorize her image, ingrain it in his memory so he would never forget her face.

  “I will miss ye, lass,” he whispered.

  Forcing himself, he turned away and walked across the room. As he slipped out the door, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  Rubric Kensington, a heavy-set man with a pair of wire-rimmed bifocals resting on his bulbous nose from too much drink stared with envy at the strapping Highlander standing at the desk. Life was so unfair, he thought as his wife Mildred for thirty years come Sunday after next made a spectacle of herself giggling like a smitten school girl while fanning her over heated face.

  “The bus should be back any minute now.” She leaned forward, propping elbows up on the desk and her chin on her hands.

  Rubric rolled his eyes. He had never seen the woman get that exited around him, even when he was younger. He nudged her backside.

  “Give the lad some room to breathe, woman.”

  She cut Rubric one of her staple angry glares. The same one he had seen for thirty years.

  “Go in back and get one of the maps for our guest,” she snapped.

  Rubric rubbed his meaty hands together and tried to suck in his gut as he pressed his shoulders back. “You go get the lad a map.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him menacingly, another look he knew all too well that meant he was digging himself in deep and if he didn’t do her bidding there would be hell to pay later.

  “Fine,” he huffed and turned on his heel, stomping into the back room.

  “Fifteen minutes?” Gavin asked, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutinizing stare.

  She waved her hand. “It should be back anytime now.” She gave him a toothy grin.

  Gavin smiled in return, just a little one. He felt a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

  “So, will ye be returning this evening?”

  “Nay, I do no believe I will.”

  “Oh.” Her smile vanished. “Have you been to the games before?”

  “Nay. Not these games.”

  She frowned. “I love your colors.” She reached out to touch the material. “It looks so authentic. Not like the other rabble rousers that come here once a year.”

  “Aye, it is. Old, I mean ta say.”

  “Was it a relative of yours? I haven’t seen those colors before. What clan are you with?”

  “Grey,” he said.

  “Grey?” She leaned back, frowning. “That doesn’t look like the plaid from the Grey clan that I have seen. And trust me when I say, I have seen a lot of plaids.” Her penciled brows lifted to her hairline as she inspected the material closer.

  “This is from the old Grey clan.”

  “Hmm…” She tapped her chin. “From what part of Scotland?”

  “Around the northern region, near Loch Morar.”

  Her face showed her surprise. “I can’t say I’ve met a Highlander representing a clan from there before.” She leaned back and scratched her head. “What’s your motto?”

  “We do not have one.”

  “Pish posh.” She waved her hand. “Every clan has a motto except….” Her eyes rounded with surprise.

  “I’ve got the map, Mildred.” Rubric hustled back into the room, huffing and puffing from trying to hold in his distended belly.

  “For God’s sake Rubric, stop panting. You sound like a dog.”

  Rubric glared at his wife and handed the map to the lad. “Here you go.”

  “I thank ye for yer troubles.” Gavin took the map.

  “You are welcome,” he said. “Now, you better get, the bus is here.” Rubric pointed a stubby finger towards the door.

  Gavin looked over his shoulder, spotting the bus. Thankful he had a reason to leave, he tucked the map into his plaid. “Have a nice day,” he said, repeating what his lass, usually said to people.

  “Same to you,” Rubric called. Once the lad was on the bus, he turned to his wife. Her face was pale and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face.

  “Mildred?” Rubric eyed her warily. “What is wrong with you?”

  Mildred turned her haunted eyes on Rubric. “Ye will no believe this...” she said falling back into her Scottish accent the one she rarely used nowadays. “ I think we just saw a ghost.”

  Rubric was accustomed to hearing a lot of things from his wife but this would not be one of them. “Mildred, what the devil are you spouting now?”

  “I’m telling ye…he is a ghost.”

  “Who? The Highlander?”

  “Aye, Rubric, the Highlander,” she snapped.

  “Mildred…” He gave her a look of disbelief. “Have you been nipping in my whiskey again?”

  “Och, Rubric, I have no been nipping in yer whiskey.”

  “Sherry?”

  “No.” She stomped her foot in frustration making her orthopedic shoe squeak on the floor.

  Rubric sighed. “Why do you say that?”

  “He is wearing their plaid.”

  “Whose plaid?”

  “The thirteen.”

  “The thirteen what?”

  She bustled over to the book case on the far wall and pulled out an ancient book on clans. Flipping through the pages, she found what she was looking for. “See…” She stabbed the page with her finger.

  Rubric shoved his bifocals up on his nose and peered down at the picture. Sure enough, there was a Highlander on the page with twelve others that looked a lot like the man who was just in the lobby. “Mildred…that’s just an old-wives- tale…you can’t really be thinking…”

  “I am, Rubric.” She nodded her head emphatically.

  “Now, Mildred…I doubt that lad was one of them. Surely he just has a resemblance…”

  “Rubric, I know what I saw. And so do ye.”

  For support, Rubric leaned back against the chair in the lobby. “Well, you better call Tilde, and let her know a live one is coming her way.”

  “Ye took the words right out of me mouth.” With a spryness that had been long absent in her step, Mildred rushed over to the desk and made a phone call.

  With a shaking hand, Rubric pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped the sweat from his brow. Unlike Mildred, he hoped the lad changed his mind and stayed put, because nothing
good ever came from revisiting the past.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Festival - Present Day

  Twenty minutes later, the bus from the hotel came to an abrupt squelching halt on the graveled road just outside the gates to the games.

  Gavin grabbed the bar for support and stood up. Unsteady on his feet, he walked to the front of the bus behind the rest of the people and waited his turn to disembark. He felt like his innards were tumbling hither and yon. “Thank ye for the ride,” he said as he took his turn to leave and tossed the driver a coin on his way down the steps.

  “Anytime,” the driver called. He looked down at the gold coin in his hand and then back to the Highlander’s departing form with widened eyes.

  With an uneven gate, Gavin took his time and followed the rest of the people who just unloaded from the bus, passing through the entrance and up the hill to where the games were to be held.

  A sense of foreboding settled upon him with each step he took. Shivering, he pulled his plaid closer about his shoulders. There was a bone chilling dampness in the air reminding him of the cooler climes of Scotland. He wasn’t sure what or who, he was even looking for but he knew he would know, if and when, he saw it, or them.

  The sun broke through the clouds above, shining down on this side of the mountain with intensity.

  The games were already in full swing, even at this early hour and there were plenty of folk dressed in Scottish garb, another reminder of his home. And even though their attire wasn’t accurate by any means, it was still interesting to watch them.

  Two young lads were bickering with one another and suddenly broke into a bought of fisticuffs which immediately reminded him of Callum and Muir. How he missed them both, he thought ruefully as he continued to walk past the tents with wares being sold. Again, he couldn’t help notice the knives and swords that we pretty ta look at but would do no good in battle because not one of them was sharpened properly. Shaking his head, he walked farther up the hill toward the last brightly stripped tent that was set up. An ominous quality surrounded it and he knew at once that was where he would find the gypsy to send him back to his own time.