One Last Kiss: The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time, Book Five
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One Last Kiss
The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time, Book Five
Sherry Ewing
One Last Kiss
The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time
Sometimes it takes a miracle to find your heart’s desire…
Scotland, 1182: Banished from his homeland, Thomas of Clan Kincaid lives among distant relatives, reluctantly accepting he may never return home… Until an encounter with the castle’s healer tells him of a woman traveling across time—for him.
Dare he believe the impossible?
Present Day, Michigan: Jade Calloway is used to being alone, and as Christmas approaches, she’s skeptical when told she’ll embark on an extraordinary journey. How could a trip to San Francisco be anything but ordinary? But when a ring magically appears, and she sees a ghostly man in her dreams...
Dare she believe in the possible?
Thrust back in time, Jade encounters Thomas—her fantasy ghost. Talk about extraordinary. But as time works against them, they must learn to trust in miracles.
Can they accept impossible love before time interferes?
Copyright © 2019 by Sherry Ewing
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Kingsburg Press
P.O. Box 475146
San Francisco, CA 94147
www.kingsburgpress.com
One Last Kiss: The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Front Cover Design: SelfPubBookCovers.com/lisa.messegee
Back Cover Design: Claudia Bost at www.designsbycwb.com
One Last Kiss/Sherry Ewing -- 1st ed.
ISBN eBook: 978-1-946177-93-3
ISBN Print: 978-1-946177-92-6
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019907624
Other Books By Sherry Ewing
Medieval & Time Travel Series
To Love A Scottish Laird: De Wolfe Pack
Connected World
If My Heart Could See You: The MacLaren’s
For All of Ever: The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Book One)
Only For You: The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Book Two)
Hearts Across Time: The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Books One & Two)
A special box set of For All of Ever & Only For You
A Knight To Call My Own: The MacLarens’s
To Follow My Heart: The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Book Three)
The Piper’s Lady within Never Too Late: A Bluestocking Belles Collection 2017
One Last Kiss: The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Book Five)
Regency’s
A Kiss for Charity
The Earl Takes A Wife within Valentines From Bath
a Bluestocking Belles Collection 2019
Nothing But Time, A Family of Worth: Book One
One Moment In Time: A Family of Worth, Book Two
Under the Mistletoe
Join Sherry’s newsletter at http://bit.ly/2vGrqQM
www.SherryEwing.com
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Bonus Material
Her’s for the taking
He belongs to me
Zoe and the ring
Afterword & Acknowledgments
Other Books by Sherry Ewing
Social Media
About the Author
Dedication
For my friend Sarah M…
Thank you for your friendship and for the laughs when I need them the most. This ones for you, Sarah. I think you’ll get a kick out of Chapter Nine!
Prologue
Scotland, Lennox Castle
The Year of Our Lord’s Grace 1164
Thomas of Clan Kincaid stood afore a fire in the hearth of his father’s solar, but nothing could penetrate the chill running through his body. He had been in this exact same spot more times in his youth than could be counted. But this… this was different.
His father would not be lenient with his latest offense. He would take this as a direct insult to the entire clan. He brushed his hand over his eyes as though such an act would erase the memories of what his rash act would most likely cost him.
Was it only yester morn that his sire had at last thought Thomas old enough to take possession of a relic that had been passed down through the generations, always to the oldest son of the Kincaid clan? His father had woven the tale for years: how their Viking ancestors had forged a ring of gold, a guiding star gracing the center like a compass leading the bearer to his heart’s desire—a woman to share his life. Thomas had scoffed at such romantic gibberish. His only desire was to know his father thought him responsible enough to now take over the treasure. At ten and four summers, was he not a man?
He moved to a window and looked over the forest, the damned woods having been the place where life as he had known it had surely ended. When his father had given him the ring, he had appeared so proud, something Thomas rarely saw. How he had beamed to be at the receiving end of such a look. But finding himself wrapped in his father’s fierce embrace had caught Thomas off guard. His sire had grumbled something incoherent afore sending his son on his way. Thomas could have sworn those whispered words were I love you and only now began to wonder if this would be the one and only time he would hear such sentiment from his father.
Happiness had overwhelmed Thomas when he relived the memory of placing the ring in a pouch upon his belt. He had felt as though he had stood a little taller when he had left his sire’s solar and made his way out of the keep and through the outer bailey ’til he reached the stables. He had sent a lad to saddle his horse and in no time was vaulting onto his steed. With a squeeze of his legs, he put the animal into motion and raced through the woods.
Thomas had ridden for miles afore he at last halted his steed upon a rise. ’Twas there he could see just the top of the battlement walls of Lennox Castle. ’Twould be his one day, along with leading the clan once his sire passed. He had taken out the ring, staring down upon the symbol that meant he was a man in his father’s eyes. He slipped it upon his finger…
…and promptly fell off his horse as a vision of a woman swam afore his eyes. Long blonde hair swayed in the breeze whilst she sat on the sandy seashore as boats with sails swept the vessels along the water’s waves. An orange bridge, the likes of which Thomas had never seen afore, had strange creatures scurrying across the span, but for the life of him, he had no idea what they were.
Thomas continued to witness the scene as though he stood right behind this strangely clad woman, who began scrunching her toes in the sand. She reached down to brush off an
object she had found near her hand. Inspecting it for several moments, she flinched as though she sensed something. She finally turned, holding out the object for him to take. If seeing the exact ring he now held in his hands was not enough, then the sight of her bright green eyes had Thomas reaching for the ring upon his hand.
“Sorcery,” he had yelled out. Afore he had known what was happening, he had come out of his trance-like state when he pulled the ring from his finger and flung it away from him.
Horror had consumed him as he had watched the ring his father had so recently entrusted to him disappear far below. He jumped onto his horse and headed in the direction he thought the ring had landed. Hours had he searched, even returning this very morn to take up his search, but ’twas of no use. The ring was gone.
The door opened, pulling Thomas out of his memories of the day afore and into his worst nightmare. He squared his shoulders to face his sire and the tirade he knew was coming. The smile faded from his father’s face as their eyes met. Perchance he saw the loss in Thomas’s own.
“What have ye done now?” His father was never one to put off the inevitable. ’Twas what made him a laird to be reckoned with or feared among neighboring clans.
There was no sense trying to delay his punishment. “I lost it.”
His father’s fists tightened at his sides. He opened and closed his mouth several times afore he was able to speak. “The ring?” he growled out between clenched teeth.
Thomas bowed his head. “Aye, Father, but I can explain…” A gut-wrenching howl emerged from his father’s throat.
“Explain? How the devil do ye think ye can explain the loss of something so vital tae our clan?” His father’s wrath practically shook the rafters, which showered dust on Thomas’s head.
“’Twas bewitched, Father,” he attempted to explain. “I put the ring on and had visions of—”
“Enough!” His father shook his fist in the air afore his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I swore tae yer mother ye needed greater wisdom afore ye took the responsibility of such a treasure, but she convinced me otherwise. Ye have disappointed me for the last time.”
“Please listen tae me, father, and try tae understand.” Thomas flinched, waiting for the raised hand to land upon his cheek, but instead, his father swore again afore he went to his desk to take out parchment and quill. “What are ye doing?” Thomas squeaked out.
His father did not answer but continued to scratch away with the quill. Thomas had a sinking feeling whatever his father was writing would be determining his fate. The scowl deepened across his father’s brow. He never once wavered, even whilst he dripped hot wax upon the missive and sealed it.
“From this day forward, I disown ye and no longer claim ye as my son,” his father declared, a grim line of displeasure creasing his mouth. He did not look at Thomas but instead, gazed out the window.
“Father, please!” Thomas cried out, falling to his knees. Mayhap if he begged, his father would change his mind. Thomas was unprepared for the words that came tumbling out of his father’s mouth next.
“I have written tae a distant relative of yer mother’s asking Douglas of Clan MacLaren tae take ye in.”
“Ye canna send me away! Not like this. Please forgive me, Father,” he pleaded as fear ripped across his chest with thoughts of being disowned and forbidden to ever return home. Knowing his sire as he did, Thomas should not have been surprised when the man turned his back to his son to grasp at the shutter with white knuckles. No mercy would be given this day.
“Henceforth, ye are no longer welcome here. Ye best get tae packing yer bags and say yer farewell tae yer mother. A guard will escort ye tae Berwyck. I never wish tae see ye again. Now leave me!”
A childlike cry was torn from Thomas’s lips when he burst from the solar to seek out his room. If he did not hurry, his sire would no doubt send someone to force him from the keep whether he was packed or not. He went to the chest at the foot of his bed and began throwing his garments into a satchel as fast as he could.
But ’twas the tears from his mother as he left the grounds that would haunt Thomas for years to come. He looked back only once to engrain in his memory a home he would never see again and cursed his ancestor’s ring that had cost him all he held dear.
Chapter 1
Present Day, Two days before Christmas
Birmingham, Michigan
Jade Calloway pulled the collar of her coat closer to her face in some useless attempt to block out the howling winter’s wind. Her boots sloshed through the mush on the sidewalk as she slipped and skidded on the icy pavement. She was so tired of this weather and was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get to San Francisco for the holiday. Her plane had already been canceled once.
Jade hoped a blizzard wouldn’t hit the area causing another delayed flight. She must need her head examined to be traipsing about on such a frigid night, but her friend had insisted they meet to exchange presents before her rescheduled flight in the morning. She pulled down the brim of her knit hat as she continued on her way. Glancing down at the plastic bag she carried confirmed her worse fears. She’d be lucky if the wrapping paper on the gift she brought wasn’t completely ruined.
At the distant sound of screeching tires and crashing metal, Jade was glad she’d decided to walk instead of using her car. This was one of those sub-zero snowy nights, the kind that freezes your tongue to a lamppost, or a finger to a ring. Even a snowplow shouldn’t be out on the roads in this kind of weather.
Reaching an intersection, she looked up to get her bearings while snowflakes attached themselves to her eyelashes. Wiping her face with her mittens, the lights of her friend’s apartment building were glowing like a beacon in the distance. She crossed the street, happy she was almost to her destination. The liberally sprinkled salt on the walkway crunched as she climbed the steps to the door. Thankful she had arrived in one piece without slipping on black ice, she rang the buzzer.
“Zoe, it’s me! Open up. I’m freezing,” she called into the speaker.
“Come on up!” Zoe answered along with a quick squeal of excitement before the sound was cut off and the lock buzzed to allow Jade inside the building.
The heat in the entryway welcomed her like a long-lost friend. She pulled off her mittens and began unbuttoning her coat before she made for the stairway. Climbing to the second floor, she’d barely reached Zoe’s apartment when the door was thrust open, like her friend knew she was about to knock.
“Hi ya, Jade. Merry Christmas!” Zoe exclaimed, wrapping Jade in a fierce hug. Her friend’s apartment smelled of sage, and she wondered what evil spirits Zoe was trying to exorcise from her place. “Jade’s here, everyone!”
Everyone? She had no time to satisfy her curiosity about who else was inside because Zoe quickly turned her around to face the door she had just entered and began pulling her coat from her shoulders. Jade had thought this was to be just a gathering between the two of them. She was hardly in the mood to socialize with a bunch of people.
Turning once more to face the room, she handed Zoe her scarf, along with her hat with her mittens stuffed inside. Jade almost let out a sigh of relief to find there were only two other women present. She gave them a small smile.
One woman with long black hair stood and came over to her. “Hi. I’m Bridgette,” she said, introducing herself before pointing to the blonde she had been sitting with, “and this is my good friend Megan.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jade replied, shaking Bridgette’s hand. “How do you know Zoe?”
“That’s a funny story,” Bridgette answered before turning back to sit on the couch next to Megan.
“There is nothing funny about how we met. It was fate,” Zoe declared, coming from the hallway where she had taken Jade’s coat.
Megan half laughed, half snorted. “You threw salt over your shoulder, and it landed in my eye when I turned in my seat to get something from my purse hanging on the back of my chair,” she corrected.
“I was
n’t about to have bad luck by not tossing some after I tipped the salt shaker over,” Zoe said, before sitting down in an overstuffed chair. “Everything happens for a reason. The planets aligned. We were destined to meet.”
Jade bit back a smile and took a seat. She watched Zoe’s animated face as she talked about how her crystals had foretold how she would encounter the two women that day. She looked at her friend, and Jade was reminded how Zoe always seemed like she was born in the wrong era. She would have fit in perfectly in the sixties—minus the drugs, of course.
She remembered the first time she had met Zoe at a fair. Zoe was reading tarot cards in her booth. Her reddish-brown hair had been long and straight, a circlet of flowers around her head. Seth, Jade’s boyfriend at the time, thought it’d be a hoot to see in what direction their future would lead them, but Jade had been skeptical. She didn’t mind people having their own beliefs, but she was more of a seeing is believing kind of a girl.
To appease the man, they had sat down at Zoe’s table. Jade remembered having her doubts that the woman before her would tell her anything she didn’t already know. Seth would break her heart. He already had once before, and she had taken him back on his promise to never cheat on her again. God, what a fool she had been.