Series Overview
There is a little-known part of history that celebrates four mystical men, Scottish warriors all, who would do anything to protect a wee bairn. It is a tale born of passion, magic, adventure and even time-travel. A tale of a band of warriors who sacrificed everything to keep safe the future of Scotland. Not only did they strive to see their beloved clan not lost to the past but were determined to see a great Scotsman rise up. A powerful man who would someday rule well his country and see that her heart was not lost... Here’s to Roibert a Briuis, best known as Robert the Bruce, King of the Scots, one of the most famous warriors of his generation in the Wars of Scottish Independence.
Quest of a Scottish Warrior- Betrothed since birth to a lass he has never met, Chieftain Logan MacLomain thought the unending tie between his clan and the Brouns was long past. Never was he more wrong. When Cassie appears in a skirmish on the border of his clan’s land, all his noble intentions are put to the test.
Honor of a Scottish Warrior- Cousin to the Laird, Niall MacLomain wants nothing more than to keep the future King of Scotland safe. Regrettably, that also means keeping safe a headstrong lass from the future. But his honor means everything. No matter how exasperated, he swore no harm would come to Nicole. However, protecting the feisty redhead ends up stirring his blood in more ways than one.
Oath of a Scottish Warrior- Of dragon blood, Chieftain Rònan MacLeod is by birth, half MacLomain. While raised to protect the future King of Scotland, he lives life with an open mind. The idea of a ring binding him to one lass seems far-fetched. However, when a woman named Jackie calls to him from the dark edges of the Celtic Otherworld, he swears an oath to save her. That means traveling to the future to protect her. The only problem? She’s not there. Instead, he finds a defiant lass named Erin. Now he must make a choice. Continue seeking out Jackie or protect the one he’s with.
Passion of a Scottish Warrior- Darach is by birth, the only remaining MacLomain not taken. Yet despite the power, the ring’s glow could harness, Jackie wants nothing to do with it. Not in light of her terrible secret. One she prays will keep any man from loving her because it will mean their ultimate ruin.
The MacLomain Series
Later Years
By
Sky Purington
Contents
Quest of a Scottish Warrior
Honor of a Scottish Warrior
Oath of a Scottish Warrior
Passion of a Scottish Warrior
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Quest of a Scottish Warrior
The MacLomain Series- Later Years
Book One
By
Sky Purington
Dedication
This is dedicated to author Sharon A. Donovan. Succeeding in life despite eventual blindness, her love for painting turned to the beautiful masterpieces she created when writing. An inspiration to us all, I will never forget you, my friend.
1957-2012
“May the wearer of the Claddagh find love,
friendship and loyalty.” ~From The Claddagh Ring by Sharon A. Donovan
Visit her website to learn more about Sharon’s memorable books.
Prologue
11 July 1274
Turnberry Castle
The Coast of Kirkoswald Paris
Just North of Ayrshire, Scotland
“BE BORN ALREADY MY wee bairn,” Sir Robert VI de Brus muttered and waved over another mug of whisky.
Logan remained silent by his side as the new Norman ruler scanned his surroundings with bleary eyes. Most if not all had their heads down and were likely wishing they could leave as Marjorie, Countess of Carrick, released another blood-curdling scream.
“Too long this takes,” Robert slurred, worry in his voice. “Hours now.”
“Aye, m’laird,” Logan said. "Dinnae fret. Countess Marjorie is a strong lass."
Theirs was an interesting tale what with the Countess holding Robert captive until he agreed to marry her. He had only come to deliver news that her late husband had been killed in battle, yet it seemed the lass was taken by his good looks. Either way, they had found love despite their unusual beginning and were now getting ready to welcome their second child.
Robert chugged down his newly delivered whisky then sighed. Minutes later, Logan breathed a sigh of relief when the man’s chin rested on his chest, and a loud snore erupted.
He flinched as the Countess released another mournful wail.
Something was wrong.
When an old woman came to the door of the Countess’s chambers and nodded at him, Logan flicked his wrist and strode her way. By the time he entered, none save the woman who called him over knew he had been there. And certainly, no one would ever know he’d entered this room. In fact, nobody save the Countess would ever know he had even been in this castle, to begin with.
“Logan,” she whimpered and squeezed his hand.
Soaked in sweat, she lay in a large four poster bed with a thin blanket covering her.
“Shh, m’lady, all will be well.” He placed a soothing hand against her clammy forehead, speaking to her even as he chanted within his mind. “We will get yer bairn safely into this world.”
The Countess tried to nod but was far too weak. No matter, the more he chanted, the easier things became for her. His eyes locked with the old woman’s. She nodded and readied herself for delivery.
Not long after, Marjorie released another long wail then slumped back.
At first, there was only silence.
A heart-stopping quiet as everything hung in the balance.
Had the child survived?
Moments later he released a thankful breath when a cry rent the air. The baby lived. After she washed and swaddled the babe, the old woman placed him in the Countess’s waiting arms. Marjorie murmured a soft greeting to her newborn son. “Welcome, my wee one. Welcome, Roibert a Briuis. Might ye be a strong and noble lad.”
Logan kissed both her and the bairn on the forehead before he left.
May this be the beginning of a very short quest but somehow he sensed it would not be.
After all, a great man had just been born.
Robert the Bruce, future King of Scotland.
Chapter One
Salem, New Hampshire
2015
CASSIE TURNED DOWN the music as she took exit two off of Route 93. “I thought this trip would take less time, but I guess I was wrong.”
“I told you it was a hike from Winter Harbor to Salem.” Nicole snorted. “I’m surprised your old clunker made it.”
“Shh, quiet.” Cassie patted the steering wheel of her ’87 Chevy Chevette, winked then popped a piece of gum in her mouth. “My baby might hear you.” She nodded at her cell phone. “Damn thing. You need to restart it then get the GPS working again. Meanwhile, I’ll pull over and gas up.”
“Uh huh,” Nicole said absently as she eyed the map on her lap.
Cassie shook her head, hopped out and stretched. It was still hard to believe that she was finally going to meet another long lost Broun relative. Then again, she was sort of surprised it took this long. She had already connected with three others years ago through her ancestry website. Jacqueline, Erin, and Nicole. Since then, they had become fast friends. It helped that they all lived in New England. Cassie in upstate Maine, Erin in Southern Vermont and Jacquel
ine and Nicole in Massachusetts.
Nicole cranked down the window. “Just got a text from Sean. He’s standing by to FaceTime.”
“Nice. Let him know we’re close.”
Sean O’Conner, or better yet the bookstore he now owned, was the reason she had discovered there were more Brouns in the area. The family name had popped up in an archive associated with his store, so she wasted no time heading that way. As it turned out, the people working at the store knew nothing about it.
Not about to give up so easily, Cassie researched the name of the current owner, and she and Nicole went directly to his house in Winter Harbor. Surprisingly enough, Sean was a tall, good-looking fishing boat captain around their age. Nicole, firecracker that she was, fell hard for him in under a minute.
They explained why they were there and though he seemed hesitant at first, they tossed back a few beers, and he shared why the name Broun was affiliated with his bookstore. He had come by the store through a woman named Cadence who, as it turned out, was related to the Brouns. He had no idea what became of Cadence but gave them her sister, Leslie’s name. Leslie currently resided in North Salem, New Hampshire.
If all that good luck wasn’t enough, he was also in possession of a manuscript that apparently revolved around several Broun cousins. They were able to leaf through it briefly. Titled The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, it was about Broun women who traveled back in time to medieval Scotland. Better yet, a clan called the MacLomains. It was pretty fantastical with wizards and dragon-shifters, but intriguing nonetheless.
After they left, Cassie immediately contacted Leslie and told her about the Broun Society she had started on her website and how much she and her three friends would like to meet her. Though Leslie said no at first, she ended up calling back the next day. Not only did she insist they visit but that they stay at her house. No need to rent a room at a motel.
So here they were.
Almost.
Jaqueline and Erin would join them in a few days.
Though Sean wouldn’t let them take the manuscript to Leslie, he said he would show it to her via FaceTime.
“I could so use an iced coffee,” Nicole chimed through the window.
Cassie put the gas nozzle back on its hook and shut the tank lid. “You got it, sweetie.”
Minutes later, Chai tea in hand, she navigated down Rt. 97. Nicole sipped her iced coffee and eyed Cassie’s cell. “I’d really like to ask Sean out.”
“I bet you would.” Cassie shook her head. “Let it go. Long distance relationships never work out.”
“He’s so hot, though.” Nicole pouted. “Could’ve been cast in the movie, The Perfect Storm, that one.”
“Yeah, if Clooney didn’t land the part.” Cassie eyed Nicole. “Did you get the GPS going? I don’t hear anything.”
“Right, hang on.” Within seconds, Google Maps was once more talking to them.
“I still can’t believe this place is so close to America’s Stonehenge,” Cassie said. “We’ll definitely have to swing by there before we leave.”
Nicole nodded. “Not really my bag but I’m on board if that’s what you wanna do, my friend.”
Thankfully, it was only another ten minutes or so before they turned off onto a dirt road. They passed a small, ranch-style house, but the GPS told them to keep going.
“Oh wow,” Cassie said as they came to the end. A large, freshly painted barn was on the left and on the right, a quaint Colonial overshadowed by an ancient, gnarly oak tree. Autumn was peaking, swathing the land in bright orange, red and yellow.
“Yeah, no kidding wow,” Nicole said. “Nothing like pulling your way-past-being-on-its-last-leg car up next to a brand new luxury sports car. Look at that beauty!”
“Sure, gorgeous,” Cassie murmured, not paying attention to the other car. Something about this place felt so familiar, as though she had been here before. A golden colored horse with a reddish blond tail and mane trotted out of the forest.
“What the?” she whispered. With small braids interwoven into his long, black hair, a man turned the steed in their direction. Startlingly handsome, he wore a blue and green plaid, a dark tunic, and black boots.
“Dear God, look at him,” Nicole said.
“I am.” She glanced at her friend. “What’s with the Scottish getup, though?”
“Huh?” Nicole’s dark red brows slammed together. “Since when are jeans and a t-shirt Scottish?”
Cassie’s eyes flew back to the man. She blinked several times. What the hell? Gone was the Scotsman and even the horse she had seen. In his place, another man altogether...and another horse. Not to say this one wasn’t a fine specimen as well.
Nicole was out of the car before Cassie opened her door. By the time she joined her friend, he was swinging off his horse and smiling at them. “You must be the Brouns who contacted Leslie,” he said in greeting. “Welcome, lasses. I’m Bradon.”
It was the first time she had ever seen Nicole’s jaw drop and her friend speechless. Cassie didn’t much blame her. He was pretty hot with his tall, muscular frame and brilliant emerald green eyes. Then there was the thick Scottish burr. That alone could make a woman weak in the knees. Yet she was less interested in his astounding looks and kick-ass accent than she was the fact he was Scottish when she had clearly just seen an entirely different Scotsman trot out of the woods.
Cassie gave Nicole a ‘snap out of it’ pat on her shoulder and shook Bradon’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cassie.” She nodded at her awe-struck friend. “And this is Nicole.”
Nicole’s eyes were wide as she shook his hand. “Nicole. Never Nikkie or Nics or any other variation.”
Bradon quirked the corner of his lip. “Nice to meet you, Nicole.”
Cassie did her best not to chuckle. Nicole was the least uptight of them all but when it came to her name, watch out.
“Ah, you made it.”
They turned to the tall, black-haired woman heading their way. Beautiful, her olive-toned skin made her pale green eyes pop. “I’m Leslie.” They didn’t have a chance to respond before she held out a hand to Cassie. “You must be Cassie.”
“I am.” She shook her hand; overly aware of the sharp assessment Leslie gave them both as she greeted Nicole. This was a woman that could sum up exactly who a person was in five seconds flat. “I take it you already met my husband.”
Nicole blinked a little too rapidly, her eyes struggling to stay off of Bradon.
“We did.” Cassie looked around. “This place is gorgeous. Thanks so much for having us.”
“Of course. Our pleasure.” Leslie chuckled and took Bradon’s hand as they headed for the house, tossing over her shoulder, “No worries, Nicole. You can check him out all you want, honey. I don’t blame you in the least.”
Some women might have been embarrassed by the comment, but Nicole only smiled broadly. “If you insist.”
Cassie frowned at Nicole, but it seemed she had nothing to worry about because Leslie only laughed as she escorted them in and winked at Bradon. “Looks like the Broun streak of being over honest that affected me wasn’t a one-time deal, eh?”
“Och, my lass, there’s not another quite like you. Never has been. Never will be,” he murmured and pulled her into his arms.
It didn’t seem to bother them in the least that they had just welcomed perfect strangers into their home. No, the two kissed one another long enough that even Nicole had the good grace to look away.
The house was nice. Perhaps around three hundred years old, it had been updated and decorated tastefully.
Leslie eventually and very reluctantly tore herself away from Bradon and led them into the kitchen. “Long drive for you ladies. You thirsty?”
“Sure, thanks,” Nicole said.
“Name your poison.” Leslie urged them to sit at the kitchen table. “Coffee. Tea. Beer.”
Bradon pulled a bottle out of the cabinet and thumped it down on the counter, eying them both. “Or whisky?”
&nb
sp; Leslie gave him an odd, fleeting look.
“I just had coffee, so I’m good with beer, thanks,” Nicole said.
Cassie eyed the bottle, and though she’d never once tried whisky, she suddenly had an unexplainable craving. Her eyes met Bradon’s. “I’ll try some of that if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He pulled out a few small glasses and poured before handing her one. Leslie grabbed Nicole a beer then sat down with them at the table.
Cassie sniffed the liquor then took a tiny sip. It burned like hell going down. Eyes watering, she looked at Bradon. “Maybe an ice cube. Seems like it might be better chilled.”
“Nay, lass.” He eyed her almost as oddly as Leslie had him when he first offered the liquor. “It’s best enjoyed as it is. Chilling a good whisky takes from the flavor.”
“Enough with whisky.” Leslie’s eyes locked with Cassie’s. “Let’s chat about what brought you here, to begin with.”
“Right. Yeah.” Cassie nodded. “Of course.” She fished her phone out of her purse as she again explained everything she had told Leslie over the phone. “And there’s this manuscript.” Eyebrows arched at Leslie, she said, “Sean’s waiting to show it to you if you’re cool with that.”
“Absolutely.” Leslie nodded at the phone. “Let’s go live.”
“Great.” When Cassie got Sean on FaceTime, Nicole scooted over and waved into the phone. “Hey there, stranger.”
Sean grinned and nodded. “Hey, Nicole.”
Then he said hello to Leslie and Bradon when they introduced themselves.
“Thanks again for doing this,” Cassie said.
“No prob.” He released the kickstand on his iPhone and held up the Next Generation manuscript, explaining, “This was left in your sister’s former bookstore, Leslie. I did a deeper search after the girls left. Not sure how it leaked onto the net but somehow a record of not only the Broun name but the existence of this manuscript is in a database for anyone searching out the Scottish Broun clan.” He kept flipping the pages. “Seems you can pull it up if you’re researching the MacLomain clan too. Leads right to my bookstore.”
The MacLomain Series: Later Years - a Scottish Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 1