Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5)

by Rebecca Preston

  Helen laughed — she could tell by the amused looks on the faces of the other women that they’d heard this story a few times. “What about you?” she asked Anna. “What happened to bring you back?”

  “Pretty stupid, if you ask me.” Anna sighed. “I was on active military duty for years with no trouble, and then the thing that took me out was an evil ex-boyfriend.”

  “Seriously?”

  Anna nodded. “He wanted me back, I said no, he came to my house with a gun. I fought him off and called the cops. They said they’d find him and arrest him. Apparently they didn’t find him before he came back. At least, that’s what I’ve pieced together — I don’t remember a lot of it, if I’m honest.”

  “Me neither.” Helen sighed. “I remember crashing my car into the river, then waking up in Niall’s guest room.”

  “Oh, yes?” Kay asked, a deliberately innocent look on her face. “And how is the handsome Harbormaster getting on with his new guest?”

  “Kay,” Elena said disapprovingly — but Kay was already cackling at the blush that was spreading like wildfire across Helen’s face.

  “I knew it! He’s handsome, right? The castle’s most eligible bachelor, too.” She raised her eyebrows, deepening Helen’s blush. “Well? What do you think?”

  “I mean, obviously, he’s attractive,” Helen managed, feeling rather put on the spot and wishing her FBI training had covered being interrogated about her romantic feelings. “But I’m not — I mean, I wouldn’t — I mean, there’s so much going on right now, I wouldn’t…”

  “Of course. You’re focusing on figuring out a whole new life,” Anna said, shooting Kay a warning look as the woman opened her mouth again.

  “Niall’s great. He’s been a very good friend. I — that’s all I want from him,” she said, biting her lip a little — even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. She’d be more than willing to entertain much more than friendship from Niall… but that was a disastrously bad idea right now. But wasn’t she always telling herself that? Wasn’t there always some excuse not to get involved with someone? No, she decided firmly — she wasn’t going to think about this. Not yet. Not until she’d thoroughly explored the castle. But the gleam in Kay’s eye didn’t leave her mind.

  Still, it was pretty easy to distract herself from thoughts of Niall with a whole castle to explore. Over the next week, she familiarized herself with every nook and cranny of the place. As she got more confident with her surroundings, she began to get brave enough to chat with the locals. She met dozens of the servants, and even made a few friends among them — and in the process, was filled in with a truly staggering amount of gossip about the people of the castle. She met several of the guards, and saw Elena’s husband Brendan a few more times, too. She met Blair, the Headwoman, whose sharp blue eyes seemed to stare right to the very core of her, then decided, to her overwhelming gratitude, that she was alright.

  But the more time she spent in the castle, the more she felt drawn down to the docks, to where she knew Niall could be spotted, striding around with that half-smile on his face, keeping an eye on things. She found excuse after excuse to head down to the docks, even though she really had no business there — one day, she took down a fresh pastry for Eamon, a special gift from Blair, who knew exactly where Helen was staying and exactly what rapscallion of a child lived there too. Eamon was delighted to see her (and doubly delighted by the gift) and Niall seemed happy to stand and chat with her, too, despite the rush of boats and fishermen around him, demanding his attention. So the next day, she brought lunch down for all three of them to share. It became a little ritual — once lunch was served in the castle, she’d gather together a plate for Eamon, for Niall and for herself, then wrap them carefully in cloth provided by Blair, who seemed to appear at her side whenever she needed her — was it possible that the Headwoman was part Fae as well? Then she’d head down to the docks, eager to see Niall and Eamon, and track the two of them down. They’d often sit on the end of one of the jetties, staring out over the waters of the Loch as they chatted about what Helen had learned about the castle that day. And every time, Eamon would drop a crust or similar into the water, solemnly intoning that it was a gift for the Monster.

  She was in a brand new time and place, exploring a medieval castle … so why was the most exciting part of her day, the part she looked forward to the most, just sitting on a jetty eating lunch with Niall?

  Chapter 16

  It had been a good two weeks since she’d woken up in the midst of an awful fever with no memory of how she’d gotten to Niall’s spare room, and a week and a half since she’d been on her feet and exploring her new home. It still felt like a dream sometimes — she’d find herself absent-mindedly thinking of the castle as though it belonged to a fictional story, a novel or a video game or something, and have to firmly pull herself back to the reality that was so difficult to believe. But as time went on, she was getting more and more comfortable here.

  Her friendships with the other women helped tremendously, of course, helping her understand that she was doing an okay job of settling in. A more than okay job, in fact. According to all of the others, she was settling in much faster and with much less drama than they had… which made her feel a little sad, if she was honest. Was it that she didn’t have as much to lose as her friends had? She missed her family back home, of course — her brothers, her father — but in the grand scheme of things… she had no real friends back home, no social life, no romantic life, that was for sure. And here in Scotland — she had the other women. And she had Niall. Did he count as a friend, or a romantic prospect? The former, right? It had to be. He certainly hadn’t given her any signs that he was interested… not that she’d be able to pick up on them even if he had.

  It was a rare sunny day, and she found it was brightening her spirits considerably to feel the warmth on her skin as she trotted down the stairs and across the docks with packed lunches for herself, Niall and Eamon. But this time, Niall came striding to meet her, a broad grin on his face as he extended a hand to her.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said, that smile twinkling in his eyes and making her feel weak at the knees.

  “You do?”

  “Aye. I’ve managed to delegate my duties for the afternoon. What would you say to a sailing lesson, given the weather’s so fine?”

  Her eyes widened. “That would be amazing. Are you sure you can spare the time?”

  “Da told all the fishermen they can go away and leave us alone,” Eamon piped up brightly, his eyes sparkling. “We’re going on an adventure to find the Monster!”

  “I’m sure she’ll want to say thank you for all the crusts you’ve been giving her,” Helen said seriously, drawing a broad grin from Eamon.

  So she found herself in the middle of Loch Ness on a little fishing craft. Barely big enough for the three of them, but sturdy nonetheless, the little boat cut through the water, Niall’s strong hands on the ropes and rudder keeping it on course. They sailed a distance from the docks, and she watched the castle shrink and shrink, keeping one ear on Niall’s explanations of how the ropes worked to control the sail and steer the ship. It all sounded fairly straightforward — not that she’d feel confident operating a ship by herself. Not just yet, anyway. She did take control of a few of the ropes at Niall’s instruction, marveling at how much control it was possible to exercise over the little vessel by tugging ever so gently on the ropes.

  “It’s a bit like driving,” she said, surprised. “Driving a car, I mean.”

  “Oh, aye? Those are the beasts with the power of a hundred horses?”

  She’d tried to explain the concept of horsepower to Niall, who had found the whole thing very amusing. Sometimes she wondered if he thought she’d invented cars completely.

  “Do they travel on water as well as on land, then?”

  “Not usually, no,” she admitted, thinking with a grin of her own car crashing into the river. That memory, traumatic as it was, seemed even now t
o belong to a different life. “But I never thought of boats as being so precisely steered.”

  “Aye, if you’re a good sailor. And luckily for you, you’re sailing with the best.” He took the ropes from her hands, a broad, smug grin on his face, and she felt a tingle run down her spine as their hands brushed. She pressed her palms together, feeling the roughness of the rope on her hands still… no wonder Niall had such calloused hands, if he spend his days doing this.

  “I’m going to need to toughen my hands up if I’m going to be any good as a sailor,” she said, looking down at her reddened palms.

  “Ah, blisters turn to callouses soon enough. Isn’t that right, Eamon?”

  “My hands are the toughest,” Eamon said proudly, pulling his fists out of the water he’d been trailing them in and thrusting them toward Helen. Dutifully, she looked at his tiny palms — sure enough, he had a collection of callouses.

  “Just like your dad.” She grinned, glancing up at Niall, whose soft smile as he looked down at his son was one of the most touching things she’d ever seen.

  But the pleasant moment was cut short when Helen’s eye was caught by an unusual shape on the water. This far out, they weren’t anywhere near the other fishing boats, so her attention was drawn by the darkness on the surface of the water… and her stomach twisted when she got a proper look at it. Sure enough, it was another raft, just like the two she’d seen washed up on the beach… and to her dismay, she was pretty sure this one was sporting bloodstains just like the one she’d seen the week before.

  “Niall,” she said softly, her eyes on the raft. “Maybe Eamon would like to take over manning the ropes?”

  Eamon leapt to his feet, the boat rocking with his sudden enthusiasm. Niall followed her gaze and she saw his body stiffen a little. “Aye, good idea. You ready, Eamon? Just like we practiced, alright? Nice and steady… keep your eyes up ahead —”

  “I know, I know,” Eamon said impatiently, his tiny fists already clutching the ropes tightly. With the little boy successfully distracted, Niall and Helen leaned out over the side of the little craft, trying to get a good look at the raft. It was maybe twenty feet away but squinting to make it out around the glare from the water, Helen couldn’t help but feel dread twisting her gut. There was no way that that was anything other than a bloodstain. Another raft.

  “Those rafts… I’ve seen plenty like them before. Fishermen from the village use them for one-man journeys — they’re quick and easy to get in and out on, and they carry a good amount of fish for their size.”

  “That’s blood, isn’t it?” Helen said softly, keeping her voice low. Behind them, Eamon was singing what he described as a ‘pirate song’, which was entirely unintelligible and usually quite funny. But against the somber mood of their conversation, it felt a little strange, and Niall called a gentle request to Eamon to keep the song down a little as he stared at the raft, clearly thinking hard.

  “Aye, it’s blood,” he said finally. “And I don’t see any way it’s not human.”

  She bit her lip, suddenly feeling wary of the water beneath them. “Could it be a creature in the Loch? Are there sharks in it?” She had no idea what kind of water sharks lived in, but the Loch was certainly big enough to house sharks, wasn’t it? She was beginning to wish she’d never watched Jaws as a child… at the time, it hadn’t scared her much, but now, on a boat in the middle of a body of water, she was beginning to feel worry creep into her chest.

  “Nothing that we’ve ever had this kind of trouble with,” Niall said thoughtfully, a frown on his handsome face. “Besides, it wouldn’t be regular animals I’d worry about. Not on the Loch.”

  Helen reeled, realizing what he was getting at, remembering in a rush the conversation she’d had with Anna about the reason for the Sept. “Could it be a — a faerie? An Unseelie one, or whatever they’re called? The bad ones?”

  “It’s more likely than I’m happy with,” he said heavily, reaching out to turn the rudder away from the bloodied raft.

  “It couldn’t be the — the Monster, could it?” She lowered her voice, not wanting Eamon to overhear her talking about his favorite subject. But Niall was shaking his head hard, a firm look on his face.

  “No, Helen. The Monster is an ally to us. If anything, the Monster would be hunting whatever creature did this.”

  “I trust you,” she said simply, drawing an unexpected smile from him in the process. Ignoring the fluttering in her chest, she took a deep breath. “But — I know the villagers are superstitious, and not especially good about … you know, magic and faeries and monsters and the like. It may be best to get on top of this sooner rather than later, before they can start developing theories of their own about what’s causing these bloodstained rafts to turn up. If we’ve found three so far…”

  “Aye,” he said grimly. “You’re right there. Best to get out ahead of whatever this is. I’ll talk to the Laird as soon as we get in. I hope you don’t mind our picnic being cut short.”

  She shook her head, smiling a little at the consideration he was showing. “We’ll just have to do it another time.”

  “I’d like that,” he said, smiling at her. “Alright, Captain!” he added, his eyes flicking over to Eamon. “Time to head back to shore.”

  “What! We’ve only been out here for a second!” Eamon gave his father a beseeching look. “Do we really have to go in?”

  Helen had only known Eamon for a few weeks, but she knew when a tantrum was brewing… and she could tell by the set of Niall’s jaw that he was in no place to give the boy th patience he needed. So she stepped in, surprised by her own instincts on the matter.

  “Tell you what, Eamon. I reckon if we get in quick enough, we might be able to catch Blair while she’s still baking pastries for lunch. What do you think?”

  “Oh, I remember hearing Blair saying she was making special pastries today,” Niall said thoughtfully, playing along as he shot Helen a grateful look. “It would sure be a shame if we missed out —”

  “Come on, then! We have to go quick!” And just like that, Eamon was satisfied, barking semi-nonsensical orders at them as they got the little boat headed for the docks again.

  Helen laughed along with the little boy, very grateful they’d successfully distracted him from the bloodstained raft. But she could tell that Niall was preoccupied with what they’d found, a frown playing across his face as he helped Eamon steer their little craft home. She did what she could to keep the atmosphere light, but she was worried, too. What kind of a creature could be doing this? What was the source of the bloodstains? How many people had been hurt — or worse? And what were they going to do about it?

  Whatever the problem, I am glad that Niall is on top of it, she thought, glancing over at the man. There was something about him that just made her feel safe.

  Chapter 17

  The sober sail back to the shore was over in no time, and Helen found herself swept along in Niall’s wake after he’d tethered the boat to the dock. Eamon was with them, too, clearly convinced they were heading up to the kitchens to procure him a pastry. The promise had felt good in the moment, but now she was a little worried that there wouldn’t be a treat that would satisfy Eamon up at the castle… which would prompt a much bigger tantrum than the one the promise had put off.

  But Niall didn’t seem concerned about that as much as he was concerned about finding the Laird. They trotted up the staircase — Niall scooped Eamon into his arms to carry the boy, despite his protests, and Helen found herself breathing hard as she worked to keep up with him. He had much longer legs than her, and was taking the steps two at a time, clearly impatient to get to where they were going. It is a good thing I’ve been doing so much stair practice over the last two weeks, she thought with some amusement as she chased him up the stairs into the courtyard. Once there, he approached a guard to ask where the Laird could be found — then they were headed inside.

  “He’s having lunch, the guard said,” Niall told her, Eamon still in his
arms, giggling as he tossed him back and forth like a sack of flour. “I hate to interrupt him — he works so hard — but I feel this is an emergency. Have you met Laird Donal yet?”

  “No,” Helen said, curious despite her lingering worry about the bloodied rafts. “But Anna’s told me a lot about him.”

  “Aye. He’s a good man, and a good leader. He’ll know what to do about all this,” he said firmly as they headed into the dining hall.

  Sure enough, there were a handful of men in tartan and armor at the high table, which was raised a little above the rest of the hall. Helen had paid the table no mind during her meals here, much more intent on getting her food organized, but now she scanned the table and the men seated there. That must have been Donal, at the head of the table — a blond man with clear gray eyes, listening intently to the men sitting around him. He is younger than I imagined, she thought with surprise — but there was something about the way that he held himself that suggested that his youth did not suggest immaturity. Just looking at him, she could see why he had the respect of the people of the Keep. Any man who could win a woman like Anna must be something special, she thought with some amusement.

  “Do you mind keeping Eamon busy while I make my report?” Niall asked, shuffling the giggling child onto his hip.

  She nodded — and before she could react, he dropped the boy in her arms. She froze for a moment — she’d never held a child before — but something instinctive took over and she shuffled him onto her hip easily enough. He sat there happily, one arm around her shoulder, peering around the hall with a predatory look in his eye.