“It’s time to straighten out a few things in here.”
She took a quick sip of the Drambuie and gasped for air, coughing. Cody had been right. She’d need to be careful with this stuff.
First she went to her closet and, climbing on an overturned wooden storage box, brought down an old dress box, tied with an emerald green ribbon. Gently she laid the cardboard box on the bed and untied the ribbon, lifting out an antique ivory lace dress. Her grandmother had worn this when she married her grandfather. Her mother had worn it when she married. To think, she’d almost given up the opportunity to wear it herself.
Never again. Never again would she sacrifice her dreams. Never again would she accept anything less than the real thing. And if she ended up being one of those women for whom there was no true love? Well, so be it. Being without a man would be better than being with the wrong one for the wrong reasons.
She strode firmly to the closet and took out a huge garment bag, unzipping it and tossing its frothy white contents to the floor next to her trash can.
“Without a doubt, the most hideous excuse for a wedding dress ever, regardless of what Richard thinks.” It had been vastly expensive, and she had waited three months for the designer to meet with her for a fitting. So what if it had cost a small fortune? It had been her money. She could do what she wanted with the white netted horror.
No doubt some charitable organization would be calling in a few weeks. They always wanted clothes to sell in their thrift stores. This time she could give them something that had never been used.
She congratulated herself on another decision well made by choking down a sip of the Drambuie. It burned a trail down her throat.
Next she pulled a stack of clothing out of her dresser, things she’d bought for her wedding and honeymoon. She dropped her towel and slipped into the white lace bra and panties set. She admired her reflection in the mirror for a moment. This wasn’t really her style, not the least bit practical as she normally preferred, but it was so beautiful she was keeping it. A girl deserved a few pretty things. Another sip of the warm liqueur to seal the decision.
Taking the towel off her long damp hair, Cate grabbed the ribbon that had held her grandmother’s wedding dress box and tied her auburn curls into a quick ponytail. Then she slipped into the emerald silk pajama set she had thought so sexy when she’d seen it hanging on the mannequin. The elastic waist of the pants hung low, riding on her hips, while the camisole top barely brushed her waistline. She’d hunted a long time for a set to fit like this. At not quite five foot four, she found everything was usually too long for her.
So maybe she could stand to lose another ten pounds like Richard said, but just maybe he should see her like this. Not that he would get to. One more little sip. It went down much more smoothly this time.
Cate turned to the dressing table and searched through her jewelry box, choosing the diamond and yellow gold earrings her father had given her for her college graduation. Normally she never wore anything but her plain silver hoops, but simple diamonds would be appropriate for a wedding. If there were going to be a wedding. Which there isn’t. Cate was having a difficult time getting the little studs into her ears. Her sense of balance seemed just a bit off.
She glanced at the small emerald eternity band lying on her dresser and placed it on her right hand. It had been a birthday gift from her grandmother. Their shared birthstone. She took just one more little sip and stopped to refill her glass.
Next she reached for the long-sleeved silk Asian-style jacket that went with the pajama set, but stopped as her eyes lit on the bag she’d tossed to the bed when she’d first come home. It held her little treasure, the pendant she’d found in the antiques store today before she’d gone to see Richard.
Nope, not going to think about that scene again.
Instead she’d try on the necklace to see if it looked as good on her as it had lying on the velvet cloth in the store.
Cate held the necklace up and admired it as the light sparkled off the multifaceted emerald. Well, of course it couldn’t be a real emerald, even if light did fairly dance off the jewel. Nobody sold those for ten dollars. Still, the gold setting and chain looked ancient. It was so beautiful it had to be the best bargain she’d ever found. It was the perfect “something old” for her wedding. If I were having a wedding. Which now, of course, she wasn’t.
With some difficulty, Cate fastened the chain around her neck, and stood back to admire her reflection in the mirror.
“Not bad.”
The pendant felt unusually warm against her skin, causing a tingling sensation that spread to her neck and shoulders. Or was that the drink?
She pulled the ribbon from her hair, allowing her natural curls to fan out, and lifted her glass in salute to her reflection.
“Here’s to you, Richard. Just look what you almost . . . ” She stopped suddenly when she noticed an odd green glow behind her reflected in the mirror.
“What the . . . ?”
Cate turned to see a large sphere of emerald green light forming in the middle of her bedroom, pulsing and growing larger. Even more startling than the unusual glow was the man who gradually materialized in the center of the sphere—he was incredible.
Or maybe she was drunk.
Or actually having that nervous breakdown she’d contemplated earlier. Do drunks having nervous breakdowns suffer from hallucinations about incredibly handsome men showing up in their bedrooms?
“Oh my God. What are you doing in my . . . who are . . . how did you get in here?” Cate demanded, slamming her full wineglass down onto the dressing table and jerking the chair out in front of her. The little chair wouldn’t do much to stop someone his size, but somehow it made her feel better.
He straightened, pausing for a moment, just staring at her before he spoke. “I am Connor MacKiernan. I’ve crossed time seeking yer assistance, milady. Only you can help me.”
He had the most wonderful Scottish brogue. Cate leaned toward him for a moment and then shook her head to clear it.
“Right.” Stall for time and this hallucination would probably go away. “Through time.” Oh my, he was gorgeous, and with that accent . . . !
But one of them must be crazy.
He was dressed like an ancient Scots warrior, boldly standing there with his legs apart and his hands on his hips, in a bubble of green light, in her bedroom, for crying out loud.
Connor cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head questioningly. “I am no used to begging, but if you require it, I will do so. We’ve no much time.”
“Oh, great. Just great. I have Braveheart-slash-Conan standing in my bedroom, and he’s in a big hurry.” She blew out her breath in irritation. “What do you want with me? Why am I the only one who can help you . . . to do what?” Cate put her hands on her hips, mirroring his stance. Hadn’t someone said you should take the offensive in these situations? She almost laughed out loud when she realized that chances were extremely high no one had ever encountered a situation quite like this one.
“Although some do call me brave, I’m no Conan. I told you, my name is Connor. Connor MacKiernan.”
He looked a little annoyed now.
Annoying him might not be such a good thing; he was a really big man. Big and gorgeous.
Is that a knife sticking out of his boot?
“Are you no listening to me, woman? This is important and we hae precious little time.” He shouted the last.
While gaping at him, she’d missed part of what he’d said. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m not in the habit of having strange men—strange men with weapons, I might add—pop into my bedroom.” She stared pointedly at his leg.
That is definitely a knife sticking out of his boot.
“No, you’re no the one who needs to apologize.” At least he had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I’d no thought of how, or where, I might appear to you.” He tilted his head in a slight bow and then, raising his head, he pointed to the emerald necklace she wore. “It’
s the jewel, milady. It’s led me to you as the one to help me save my sister. The Fae magic sent me here to fetch you.”
She should be completely freaked out. But he seemed so sincere. Well, wouldn’t all homicidal maniacs, or even simple hallucinations for that matter, seem sincere?
She could hardly believe it when she heard herself ask, “Save your sister, huh? What exactly does this magic want me to do?”
“You must come home with me, to marry me. Then I’ll return you here. No one will even know yer gone.”
When Cate laughed, he looked offended.
“Sorry. It’s just that, as you can see”—she waved her arm unsteadily around to encompass the disarray in the room—“I’ve just been dealing with preparations for a wedding.” Is that green circle shrinking around him? “I still don’t get it. Why would you need me to marry you? You don’t even know me.”
“It’s verra complicated.”
No mistake, he really did look embarrassed now, and it made him seem much younger, almost vulnerable, as he ducked his head.
“I must marry if I’m to protect my sister. It’s no a real marriage. Well, it is, but because it will be in my time, it’s no real for you. You’ll stay just long enough to marry me and then return to yer own time. Once I hae fulfilled the condition of marriage, I will be free to remain with my family, to protect my sister.” He narrowed his eyes. “I will no allow anything to happen to you, lass, if it’s fear holding you back.”
“I’m not afraid.” Well, that was a lie, but it made her feel better to say it. “Where, or should I say when, is your home?” Yes, the nervous breakdown hallucination theory was firming up as the front-runner now.
“Sithean Fardach. Scotland. The year of our Lord, 1272.” For the first time, Connor appeared to study his surroundings. “It’s a fair distant time for you?”
Cate laughed again. “Actually, ‘fair distant’ would pretty much be an understatement.” Now what? She looked around the room. The glass she had set on the dressing table had fallen over. But instead of spilling, the warm caramel-colored liqueur was suspended in the air, never touching the ground.
“Did you do that? No, wait. Obviously you did. How did you do that?” She pointed at the suspended liquid.
“I canna explain. I dinna understand it all.” He shrugged. “It’s the Fae magic. Time has stopped here, allowing me to come for you. When you return, no matter how long yer in my time, you will be right here, right now—that’s all I ken about it. We must hurry, please.”
The green sphere is definitely growing smaller. And he didn’t look to her like a man who said please often.
What did she have to lose? Chances were, she’d wake up in the morning, probably with a huge headache, and be quite amused by her hallucination.
And if not? If he’s real?
Hadn’t she just been told today—twice, in fact, by both Richard and her brother—that she needed to be more adventurous? What could be more adventurous than a quick visit to thirteenth-century Scotland? Accompanied by what had to be the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. A man who needed her help.
Connor held out his hand. “We must hurry. Time canna wait forever, no even for the magic.”
Cate grabbed her pajama jacket and put it on, jammed her feet into the well-worn woven-grass flip-flops Jesse had brought her from his last trip to Thailand, and started toward Connor. She stopped at the last minute, grabbing her grandmother’s wedding dress.
“Can I wear this to be married in?” She held the dress clutched to her, eyeing him defiantly. If he said no, she wouldn’t go.
“You can wear whatever you want, lass, I dinna care, but if yer coming, it must be now.”
The sphere was pulsing again.
Making up her mind, she picked up the ribbon she’d pulled from her hair and tied it around the dress to form a small bundle. Taking Connor’s hand, she stepped into the glow.
He drew her close, putting both arms around her as the sphere closed in on them. Tingles raced through her body. When he looked down at her, Cate was mesmerized by the intensity in his blue eyes.
“I swear, lass, on my honor, I’ll no allow any harm to come to you. I’ll protect you with my life. And when it’s finished, I’ll see you safely returned home.”
The strength of his determination radiated from him. She was still captivated by the look in his eyes when he lowered his head toward her, slowly, almost as if against his own will. It took her by surprise when his lips met hers, her own eyes fluttering shut. Electricity arced through Cate’s body at the simple touch as a multitude of colored lights lit the world around her.
The feel of his soft lips and strong arms and the look in his eyes as he made his promise were the last things she thought of as the lights winked out.
CHAPTER 3
In those final few moments between sleeping and waking, Cate experienced two distinct thoughts: the first involved plunging into a pair of blue eyes so electrifying she felt light-headed, and the second was that someone had left the water running.
She awakened fully indeed to find herself face-to-face with a pair of extraordinary blue eyes—just not the ones she’d been so thoroughly enjoying a few moments before. The water, however, was still running somewhere.
“So you’re with us at last. Welcome, lassie, I’m exceedingly pleased to hae you here. We’ve so much to do.” A lovely blonde woman took Cate’s arm to assist her and sat watching her expectantly.
“Where am I?” Cate asked, looking around uncertainly. She was outside, sitting on the ground in a forest next to a pool of water, complete with waterfall. At least that explained the running water. This couldn’t be possible. Last night had been a dream, hadn’t it?
“Weel, I’ve no traveled through time myself, of course, but considering how Connor felt when he awoke, I’m guessing you’ll be a bit disoriented for while.” The blonde stood and reached a hand down to Cate. “Try standing, lass—see if it disna help a bit. Moving around seemed to help Connor.”
“Connor?” She rose unsteadily to her feet. “Oh, the big guy in the green light.” The one who’d made her stomach do crazy somersaults when he put his arms around her. The one who’d made her forget to breathe when he’d kissed her. “Where is he?”
“He’s gone hunting with Duncan. Having no idea when you’d awake, I thought to start the morning meal, so I sent them off.” The woman brought a small bucket of water over from the fire. “Here. This is nice and warm. We’ll get you up and ready. We should be able to finish everything before they return.” She stood with her hands on her hips and smiled pleasantly down at Cate. “It’s occurred to me, lass, that I dinna even know what you’re called. I’m Rosalyn MacKiernan, Connor’s aunt.”
“Cate. Well, Caitlyn actually. Caitlyn Coryell. But everyone just calls me Cate.”
Whenever she was nervous, Cate couldn’t seem to restrain what came bubbling out of her mouth, and she hated it, so she stopped herself by splashing the warm water on her face. It did make her feel better, a little more in control. She reached up to push her hair out of her face. It was curling everywhere, a testament to the humidity in this place. For a fact, she wasn’t in Colorado anymore. Now she knew how Dorothy must have felt.
“Weel, Cate, we must hurry if we’re to finish the things that need done before the men return. Are you ready? Is there anything I can get for you before we start?” Rosalyn pulled a small velvet pouch from the leather bags piled on the ground.
“Before we start . . . what, exactly?” Maybe she needed to let this lady know that nothing was making any sense here.
“You agreed to help Connor, aye, to save his sister so she might find the fate of her own heart?” At Cate’s nod, she continued. “We need thank our Fae Folk for their assistance and”—Rosalyn paused as if deciding on what to tell her—“to tie up the loose ends of the magic so we can proceed.”
She took Cate’s hand and led her around to the far side of the pool. There, by a tree literally covered in small pieces
of cloth, Rosalyn opened the little pouch and pulled out a strip of material, handing it to Cate.
“Simply dip the cloth into the water, and thank the Faeries for yer safe journey. Then tie it on the tree, just like all the other bits there.”
“What is the place?” Cate looked around thoughtfully. It was beautiful here, everything lush and green. It filled her with an unaccustomed sense of peace. But it certainly wasn’t any place she recognized.
“This is the home of my mothers.” Rosalyn looked around with obvious pride.
“Your mothers. How many ‘mothers’ do you have?”
“A multitude, child.”
Rosalyn’s musical laughter floated over the water, and Cate took the time to really study the woman. She was tall and willowy, at least half a foot taller than Cate, with light blonde hair pulled loosely into a bun at the nape of her neck. Beautiful would be a mild descriptor for this woman, who might be somewhere in her late thirties by Cate’s guess. Most striking of all were her eyes, a study in blue intensity. Very like Connor’s eyes.
Cate pushed her own hair out of her face again and made a quick decision. Real or a dream, she was going to make the best of this. What else was there to do?
After kneeling to dip the piece of cloth in the water, she tore it into two narrower strips and used one to tie back her hair out of her way.
“You need to speak to them, as if you actually see them.”
But before Cate could utter a word, Rosalyn held up a hand to stop her. “Oh, and ask their blessing and aid for the rest of our . . . task.”
Cate stood and faced the water, but Rosalyn again stopped her.
“Oh, and as we’re dealing with the Fae”—she smiled sweetly at Cate—“it would no hurt to ask them to grant you true love. They like that.” She nodded reassuringly.
“Ha!” Cate looked at the older woman, who was startled by her outburst. “True love? I’m not at all sure I believe in true love.” Of course if anyone had asked her yesterday, she would have said she didn’t believe in Faeries or time travel either. “But I do believe this, if it does exist, you can’t force it to happen or just wish it into being.”
Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband Page 3