“He’s not going to make it, is he?” she whispered and looked up to meet James’s gaze squarely.
He shook his head. “’Twould take a miracle, I fear.”
Maggie stood, shoulders back, chin lifted. “Pick him up. I know just where to find one.”
thirteen
It looked the same. For a moment, Maggie hesitated as she gazed up at the place where her adventure had begun. Above the ancient cairn the stars glimmered brightly, and the moonlight painted a path up to the top of the craggy hill.
Maggie directed the men toward the cairn and hurried after them, cursing the thin leather shoes she wore and the skirts that slowed her as they carried Quinn on a makeshift stretcher to the top. Once there she drew in a deep breath and turned her face into the wind.
She had dreamed of coming to Scotland all of her life. Even as a child, she’d been fascinated with movies and books about the Highlands. To think that not only had she made it, she had actually journeyed to Scotland’s past, had lived some of its history, and had found her soul mate.
It had been a grand adventure.
She refused to let it end like this.
“I dinna understand,” James said from beside her as his cousins began pulling stones from the entryway of the cairn. “I’m as devout as the next man, but at least with the healer the man would have a fighting chance.”
Maggie shivered as she stared at the mound. There was something about the structure now that felt almost sinister, but this was Quinn’s best and possibly only chance. She’d told James that the cairn was a holy place, and she intended to pray all night until God healed him. She smiled without humor. It wasn’t a lie. She would pray that she and Quinn would be taken back to her time, where there were modern hospitals and doctors and clean hands.
“Aye,” she told him. “I’m sure. This is what Quinn would want, I promise.”
“But why do ye want us to replace the stones, once ye are inside?” His dark brows knit together plaintively. “Ye dinna plan to die with him, do ye, Maggie? To seal yerself inside?”
The men had finished opening the doorway and were taking Quinn in. Maggie followed after them, James behindher. She stuck her head through the opening.
“Over there,” she told James’s cousins. “No, that’s too far, back a bit. Yes, that’s perfect.” She nodded and then turned back to James to answer his question. “No, of course not,” she told him honestly. “Trust me, James, I know what I’m doing.”
“’Tis fair strange to me,” he said. He looked around warily and then shot her a sharp look. “Ye wouldna be a practicer of the black arts, would ye, lass?”
Maggie moved to let the men exit the cairn, and then entered,ducking through the opening as she paused to smile back at James. “No, James, I’m not a witch. Give Jenny my love. Tell her, if I don’t see her again, that I will always rememberher kindness.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “As I will yours.”
James shook his head, looking worried, but squeezed her hand in return and then went outside and started instructing the men on replacing the stones. Maggie moved to crouch beside Quinn and watched them block out the pale moonlight streaming through the doorway. As soon as they were finished, she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she drew in a quick breath. Bright, silvery moonlight poured through the dozens of holes in the ceiling and painted a familiar pattern on the floor around them: three intertwined spirals.
“Quinn,” she whispered as she knelt beside him, “get up, my love.”
His eyes flickered open, and she saw death in the shadoweddepths. “I canna, sweet Maggie,” he whispered back, “for I am mortally wounded.”
“No,” Maggie said firmly. She cradled his face between her hands, her gaze never leaving his. “No, you are not. I have come across space and time to find you, and I’m not losing you now.”
Quinn lifted one hand to her face. “I love ye, Maggie mine,” he said, “but I never understand half of what ye say.” His hand fell back to his side once more as he gazed blearily around at the cairn. “Where are we?”
“In the cairn. Remember? The place I wanted you to take me, when we first met?” If she could just get him on his feet, he could lean against her. She slid one arm underneathhis shoulders and shoved him forward into a sitting position. Maggie heard his sharp intake of breath and felt his body shudder beneath her hands.
“Oh, love, I’m sorry, but you’ve got to get up. You’ve got to come with me.”
“All right, lass,” he said, his words slurred, “if it means that much to ye, help me to my feet.”
Maggie helped him to his knees, and he leaned against her heavily as he staggered to his feet and then almost fell. She pressed her hand against his chest and felt once again his lifeblood trickling away.
“Walk with me, Quinn,” she commanded urgently. “Say the words with me. Follow forward—take a step, love— follow back—a few more, hurry now—ages lost—just four more now—ages found.”
Quinn cried out and sagged against her, his weight bringing her down with him to the cold, stone floor.
“Quinn!” Her shout echoed through the cairn as Maggie struggled to hold him while the sudden surge of power swirled around them, tried to keep him from being swept away from her into the black unknown. But the flood of energywas too intense, and Maggie screamed as Quinn was wrenched from her side and every star in the galaxy explodedinside her mind.
“Quinn, please eat something.”
Quinn lifted his head from his hands and turned toward Maggie. She sat beside him on the comfortable bed where they’d spent their nights together ever since he’d returned from a place called a hospital. There he’d been prodded and poked and given medicine in a tube that had rendered him unconscious in order that the physician could sew up his wound. Maggie had told the mob of people who surrounded him when she took him to the “ER” that he had been “mugged.” He had remained in the clean, orderly building after his surgery for a week, after which time he was pronouncedwell enough to return home.
Return home.
In the hospital he’d had a fever, Maggie told him later, and he’d remembered little about it until he woke up, in a strange bed with Maggie, and she told him they had traveledthrough time to the year 2008. She had saved his life by bringing him to what she called a “modern hospital.”
He hadn’t believed her at first, but after being brought to this large, fancy house—’twas not a cottage no matter what Maggie said—and seeing the marvels she had shown him, he’d had little choice but to accept her words.
For the next week, Quinn had tried to adjust to his new surroundings. Maggie was eager to help. She’d taken him into the bathing room and demonstrated all of the wondrous things there—the clean, bright, bathing tub and the sink with running water, the hot shower, the toilet that flushed away the body’s refuse with the touch of a handle—he shook his head at the thought of such amazing luxury. The first night back from the hospital, she had helped him take a shower, and had even gotten in with him. He’d been too stunned to even take advantage of the situation.
Instead, he had let her scrub him with a bar of sweet-smellingsoap and wash his hair with scented liquid from a bottle. After she finished, she led him out of the glass-encasedcubicle and toweled him dry as if he were a child. He’d crawled back into bed and slept like one dead.
It was morning now, and once again Maggie was trying to convince him to eat the breakfast she had prepared for him. He wasn’t sure what day it was. He didn’t even know how long he’d been sitting on the side of the bed after he awakened. Quinn glanced at the tray of food on the bed besidehim. Eggs and bread and some kind of meat. A meal fit for a king, or at least a duke. He hated to disappoint her, but he had no appetite.
“I’m not hungry, lass,” he said.
“Then talk to me,” she begged, not for the first time. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Quinn couldn’t meet her eyes. He took a deep, steadyingbreath. “I�
��m thinking I have lost my mind.”
She took his hand between both of hers, her voice warm. “No, no, you haven’t. I know exactly how you feel, love. At least, I think I do. It’s all a shock. And the travel itself—it’s terrible. I thought you were being wrenched away from me—that you would be lost in time forever!” Quinn’s fingers tightened against hers.
“Aye,” he said, feeling some comfort from her words. “I feared the same thing.”
“I know this is all hard to accept, but it’s real. We have traveled through time.” She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice. “Just remember that for now, it’s our secret. People would think we’ve gone crazy if we told them the truth.”
Quinn fought back a groan. How could it be possible? But how could he deny his own eyes? Of course, now everything about Maggie made sense—why she spoke so strangely, the odd things she carried in her leather bag, even the “Nessie” she had used to distract Pembroke and his men.
“Would you like to come downstairs?” she asked softly. “The girls have been anxious to talk to you.”
He looked at her aghast. He had met her sisters that week and they were bonny lasses, but the last thing he wanted right now was to interact with people in the twenty-first century. What would he say? He would be a barbarian next to such creatures. “I’m sorry, I canna—not yet. But go and visit with yer family. I’ll be fine.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ll just stay here with you.” She slid her arm through his and leaned on his shoulder. “Maybe we could take a nap together.”
She rubbed the side of her face against his arm like a cat, and Quinn knew what kind of “nap” she meant. There was nothing he wanted more than to lose himself in Maggie’s love and in her body, but he couldn’t. He had to think. Had to figure this out.
“Perhaps later,” he said.
Maggie looked up at him and pouted, her lower lip stuck out dramatically. He laughed for the first time since—since he had come to this place.
“Fine then,” she said, and flounced off the bed to bend over a large white sack on the floor. “I went into the villageand bought you something to wear.” She pulled somethingout of the sack. “It’s called a jogging suit,” she said, tossing two green pieces of clothing into his lap. He felt the material—slightly heavy and soft to the touch. “I also bought you some jeans and shirts.”
“What is jogging?” he asked, curious in spite of his melancholy. “What are jeans?”
“Jogging is like running,” she said.
He nodded. “Ah. In case we must run from the authorities, aye?”
“No, it’s uh—in this day and age, people run to exercise,or for fun.”
“Why?”
She frowned. “You know, that is a very good question. And jeans are a kind of breeches made from a very tough kind of material.”
“Thank ye,” he said, forcing himself to look her in the eye and smile. “I will put it all on later, but right now, I’m going to lie back down.”
“Are you in pain?” she asked anxiously. Her blue eyes mirrored her concern, and Quinn reached up to brush that recalcitrant strand of auburn hair back from her face. She’d worried and fussed over him like a mother hen ever since his surgery.
“Aye,” he said, “a bit. I just need to rest. Dinna fash yerself.”
“Easier said than done,” Maggie said softly. “Would you please eat something?”
Quinn picked up the tray and handed it back to her. “I’ll just stretch out a wee bit longer,” he said. “I’ll eat later, I promise.”
He could see she wasn’t happy about that, but she took the tray and moved toward the door. “Are you sure you’ll be all right until I come back up?”
Quinn frowned at her. “I am no a bairn,” he said, unable to keep the irritation from his voice. Maggie grinned and then stuck out her tongue before she turned and sashayed to the door. She paused and looked over her shoulder. “No, but you’re just as cranky as one.”
Quinn smiled as she closed the door behind her, realizingjust how close they really were. She didn’t waste time or energy berating him for his rudeness. She understood and was giving him time to deal with what had happened.
As soon as she was gone, Quinn felt a kind of panic sweep over him.
When they had stumbled out of the cairn, a man called Alex had been there and had greeted Maggie like a long-lostfriend. Alex seemed to be in charge of things at the cairn.
Quinn was so ill from his wound that the whole thing now seemed like a dream. Alex, along with another man, had lifted Quinn between them and whisked him down the hillside. At the bottom he had been placed in—surely an aberration of his fevered brain—a huge insect. It was bright red and had large windows in it, front, back and on the sides, and four fat wheels, two on either side.
Maggie climbed in beside him and the insect began to move before Quinn finally realized it was not an insect, but a kind of carriage. A carriage without horses.
Maggie had sat with his head cradled in her lap, and the entire trip was something of a blur. He had a sense of great speed, as if he rode a fast stallion, but he himself was called upon to do nothing, simply lie and doze as his blood continued to seep away.
After his release from the hospital he and Maggie had ridden home in a similar vehicle, this one a dark green. Maggie had operated the carriage, and he envied the ease with which she managed the huge piece of steel.
Home.
Quinn glanced around at the room in which he lay. Maggie’s home was almost as fine as the duke’s, though smaller, and the room he’d been given was luxurious. The four-poster bed was large and covered with a deep green coverlet and a pile of pillows of all sizes and colors. The polished wood floor gleamed, and part of it was covered by an ornate rug woven in soft shades of deep green, rose, and cream, which complimented the cream-colored walls.
The most amazing thing was how clean it was. It was the cleanest room he had ever seen in his life, and the brightest. Two large windows opposite the bed let in an amazing amount of sunlight, enough to lighten the heart of any melancholy man, but there was also a light in the ceilingand two lamps, one on either side of the bed.
When Maggie flipped a switch near the doorway, the light in the ceiling came on. The lamps were operated with a switch at the bottom of each. There was no flame, no candleinside. He had asked Maggie hesitantly if it was a kind of magic. She had laughed and said yes, a magic called electricity. Then she explained it, and he had shaken his head.
He closed his eyes. The stitches across his chest ached, but he ignored them and tried to think. Oh-kay, as Maggie would say, somehow he had journeyed through time to the future, leaving all that he knew behind in his own time, 1711. Everything, including Ian.
Quinn opened his eyes. He had to go back. He had to save Ian. There was no time to sit and dwell upon what had happened. He had to find a way to get back to where he belonged!
His heart constricted at the thought of leaving Maggie, and truth be told, he wouldn’t mind staying in her world for a while. It seemed quite peaceful, and filled with miraculousthings. But he could not. He had to return and save Ian from certain death.
He began to plan. In the cairn, before they traveled through time, Maggie had been saying words, like a chant. It seemed reasonable to suppose that the words had somethingto do with their amazing journey.
He’d have to ask her, but then he’d have to tell her that he wasn’t going to stay with her; he would have to tell her good-bye, perhaps forever.
Maggie was so happy to be back home with Quinn that she could scarcely contain herself. Once he was in stable conditionat the hospital, she’d known that God had granted her most fervent prayer—that the man she loved would returnwith her to her time, where the two of them would live happily every after.
Her sisters and Rachel had been so glad to see her it was almost more than she could stand. They’d been so afraid they had lost her forever. Maggie hated the fear she’d seen in their eyes as they all hugge
d her tightly the night she returned.They were terrified she might disappear again. Like their mother and father had. She took a deep, shuddering breath and then hurried down the stairs, anxious all over again to see her family.
Maggie paused at the doorway and gazed at her friend and her sisters where they sat. Rachel’s long hair was currentlythe color of a ripe apricot with bright purple streaks throughout, and Maggie felt comforted just by the sight of it. Rachel’s eclectic style extended from the top of her crazy hair to her short red skirt and a baggy purple T-shirt that said “I Love Nessie.”
Allie was still slim and serene in her usual classic attire, a pale cream-colored blouse tucked into pale blue slacks, complimenting her shoulder-length blonde hair and makingher blue eyes look like the sky on a summer day in Texas.
Ellie was still curvy in her usual black, this time a short lace dress that looked vintage. Her short, spiky hair had been freshly dyed black, and her blue eyes stood out as much as Allie’s, thanks to the carefully applied black eyelinersurround them.
Maggie smiled. How had she ever imagined she could make it without Rachel and the twins? Another thought chased quickly after that. How could she have ever imaginedshe could make it without Quinn? And would she be able to keep him? That was the real question.
“So, how has everyone been?” Maggie asked as she strolled into the room and sat down in a green, rose, and cream calico-covered chair in the living room. It was a nice room, quaint and old-fashioned. Allie and Ellie sat on an overstuffed, dark green sofa. Rachel sat next to them in a chair identical to the one Maggie sat in.
All three of them stared at her in disbelief.
“How has everyone been?” Ellie said, shaking her head.
“How has everyone been?” Allie echoed, shaking her head in an exact copy of her twin’s.
Rachel took it to the next level. “How has everyone been?” She said, rising up out of her chair, her eyes wide with incredulity.
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