Honor of a Scottish Warrior

by Sky Purington

  Story Overview

  Born and raised in South Boston, Nicole is tougher than most. Fearless some might say. Even in light of the fact she might be going deaf. Then her courage is put to the test when her Broun lineage introduces a whole new reality. Time travel exists. Evil awaits her in medieval Scotland. And the newfound Claddagh ring on her finger? It means she has no choice but to travel back to the thirteenth century. Straight into the arms and under the protection of a man she would rather never see again.

  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.

  When Niall and Nicole come together, sparks fly. Excitement. Strife. Desire. But not love. Never that. Determined to work as a team to keep little Robert the Bruce safe, they embark on a non-stop adventure. With help from the MacLomain’s Viking ancestors, they might just stand a chance against Brae Stewart and her villainous partner. More than that, they could very well discover that they fare far better together than they ever did apart.

  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.

  Honor of a Scottish Warrior

  The MacLomain Series-Later Years

  Book Two

  By

  Sky Purington

  Dedication

  For Nicole.

  We lived out loud.

  You died young, but I kept living for us both.

  I will never forget you, my friend.

  COPYRIGHT © 2015

  Honor of a Scottish Warrior

  Sky Purington

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of these books may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Edited by Cathy McElhaney

  Cover Art by Tamra Westberry

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Previous Releases

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  North Salem, New Hampshire

  2015

  “YOU THINK YOU got me, eh?” Eyes never leaving her enemy’s dagger, Nicole evaded.

  “Are you going to fight back or what?” he growled.

  She would eventually. Meanwhile, let him sweat it out. When he thrust, she crouched fast and swiped his foot. He jumped. She rolled. But not fast enough. The next thing she knew she was flat on her back with a dagger to her throat.

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” he said. “If you’re hitting the ground you better move a hell of a lot faster than that.”

  “Hey, in my defense I’ve only been training for a week.” She grinned up at Darach Hamilton. “Most of which you weren’t here to help me.”

  “Aye, true enough.” He pulled her to her feet. “And I’m sorry for that.”

  “Don’t be,” Jackie said softly from the rope swing. “It sounds like you’ve been busy enough.”

  When Darach and Jackie’s eyes caught, Nicole grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house. “C’mon. Let’s go grab a cold one.”

  Well aware of Jackie’s infatuation with Darach, Nicole kept trying to head them off. Mostly because she was undecided whether or not she wanted him for herself. Sure, that might sound selfish but it was what it was and she made no apologies. He was hot. And she was single.

  Since arriving here a few days ago, she had been stuck on overdrive. Who could blame her? Like her three friends with Scottish Broun blood, she had learned that another whole reality existed outside of this one. A reality over seven hundred years in her past.

  One that existed in medieval Scotland.

  It all started when she and Cassie showed up here at Leslie and Bradon’s home. Within hours, she knew ten times more than before. Apparently there was an unending romantic connection between the Broun and MacLomain clans. When Cassie vanished the same day they arrived, Nicole soon learned why. She had traveled back in time and as it turned out, fallen in love with Logan, the current MacLomain Laird…of a thirteenth-century clan.

  Yet there was far more to the story than that.

  Darach unscrewed the cap and handed her an icy cold beer. When they sat on the couch, she yanked off her sneakers, plunked her feet on his lap and grinned. “You so owe me a foot rub.”

  “I suppose.” He smiled and rubbed her feet. “Though I’m not sure you earned it.”

  “Oh, I earned it all right.” She leaned her head back, closed her eyes and groaned. The man had some seriously strong hands. “Two hours of standing on my feet and crossing daggers with you was more than enough.”

  “Never enough,” he murmured.

  She cracked opened her eyes. “I’ll be okay ya know.”

  “So we hope,” Jackie murmured as she joined them. As always, she sat in a chair by the fire, a book tucked neatly on her lap. “Me? I applaud Darach for pushing you so hard.”

  Jackie was one of those types nobody ever judged correctly based on her personality never mind her appearance. Most would think she was full of herself. With naturally platinum blond hair and deep brown eyes, she was flat-out beautiful. And though soft-spoken with an extremely reserved nature, she was blunt to a fault. To the point that sometimes it took a great deal of patience to tolerate her.

  Like every other hot-blooded man, Darach’s eyes were ensnared by Jackie. “I’d offer to get you a beer, but I know better.”

  Jackie offered one of those soft, tempered smiles she had perfected. “Thanks but I have water brewing for tea.”

  “Of course you do,” Nicole muttered and wiggled her toes so that Darach remained focused. “One of these days you’ve gotta loosen up and try alcohol.” She swigged her beer and winked. “It’s not half bad.”

  “So you say.” Jackie’s brows perked. “But I’m far more interested in how confident you feel going up against what’s coming.”

  Nicole groaned and closed her eyes again. Jackie referred to her role in their upcoming saga. And it was just that. A dramatic set of events unfolding in medieval Scotland. Apparently, when Cassie traveled back in time, she became par
t of a quest to save King Robert the Bruce when he was a kid. If that wasn’t enough, it seemed that Nicole, Jaqueline (AKA-Jackie), and Erin would also be entrusted to look out for Robert.

  “Seriously, Nicole,” Jackie said. “We all know that you’ll be traveling back in time soon. In fact, the bad guy is determined to kidnap you to get to King Robert.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Eyes still closed, Nicole took another swig of beer.

  Darach’s hands tightened on her feet. “You’re taking this all too casually, lass.”

  Nicole yawned, determined to seem unaffected. The truth was she was scared shitless.

  “You were taken against your will by black magic and thrust back in time already,” Jackie reminded with an edge of worry to her voice. “Into the heart of a battle no less.”

  Nicole took another sip. “Blah, blah, blah.”

  Darach pushed aside her feet and was in her face so quickly she barely had time to react. There was a dangerous glint in his bluish gray eyes as his brogue thickened. “I ken yer need to hide yer fear, but this cannae be taken lightly. ‘Tis yer life and that of many at stake.” Worry and anger met his words. “At any moment ye could be yanked back and when it happens ‘tis verra likely ‘twill be into the arms of the enemy.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” she said slowly, anger building. “Hence the shit-show I landed in before.”

  Though not there long—and pretty damn drunk because of Bradon’s whisky—she still remembered every moment with vivid clarity. The wide meadow. The vicious Scottish clansmen determined to take her.

  And the one determined to save her.

  Darach—as he was so good at doing—almost seemed to read her mind, his accent lessening. “Niall means to protect you, Nicole. And never was there a more stubborn Scotsman.”

  She flinched and groaned, pushing Darach back so she could polish off her beer. “That brute needs to stay the hell away from me.”

  “That brute is not only one of my best friends but my cousin,” Darach reminded.

  Because Darach, of course, was from medieval Scotland as well.

  “Good enough.” Nicole stretched. “That doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

  Darach muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Nor do I think he’s all that fond of you.”

  Nicole narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”

  “So how much time has passed in medieval Scotland?” Jackie interrupted, clearly on purpose.

  “Over a month,” Darach said, downing his beer.

  Strange how that worked. Time went by much faster there than here. Some speculated that it was the past trying to catch up with the future.

  Jackie was about to comment when Leslie and Bradon walked in the front door. Leslie was a modern day Broun who had hooked up with Bradon, her medieval MacLomain. Theirs was a strange tale in that Leslie’s cousins had ended up living in Scotland with their men and were now in their fifties where she wasn’t a day over thirty. Bradon’s kin, those called the Next Generation, were also much older, but he had stayed young when he decided to remain here in the twenty-first century.

  Darach and his cousins were the children born of the Next Generation.

  So Darach, Logan, Niall and Rònan made up the men apparently meant for her and her friends. Daunting thought. Well, not so much Darach because he was a sweetheart. And not Logan because he evidently adored Cassie. Rònan? She didn’t know him in the least. Niall? Forget it.

  He was meant for Nicole over her dead body.

  “Hey there.” Leslie smiled at them. “Wanna grab some groceries out of the car?”

  “Sure,” Nicole said and threw on her sandals.

  Soon enough, they had everything brought in. Nicole grinned at Bradon as she set her bags on the counter. “Jeesh, if I were a wizard like you and Darach, I’d just snap my fingers and have all this stuff brought in and put away in an instant.”

  Leslie winked at her. “And what makes you think we witches couldn’t do the same thing?”

  Right. There was that. “I’m a newbie witch.” Nicole shrugged. “I have no clue how to use my powers yet. What’s your excuse?”

  “I like to watch the men work.” Leslie eyed Bradon with appreciation. “Though a few cartons of milk doesn’t make those arm muscles flex too much.”

  “Mayhap not milk.” Eying her with equal appreciation, Bradon yanked Leslie against him and grinned. “But I can think of all sorts of other ways you could get my muscles to flex.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes and shook her head. She knew exactly what muscle in particular he referred to. “I’d tell you guys to get a room, but I know you’ve already got one. It’s been damn near impossible to sleep at night since I got here.”

  Leslie shrugged and nuzzled her face against Bradon’s neck, words muffled and non-apologetic. “You can always stay at a motel.”

  “Or,” Darach said. “You could travel back in time with me so we can keep you safe at MacLomain Castle.”

  He had been badgering her on and off to do that, but something held her back. Not just the obvious fear of potentially traveling through time, but more. For some reason, she felt safer here. Maybe it was just logical considering this was where she belonged. Or maybe it was something else altogether.

  “So if you and your cousins can travel back and forth through time, why is it that you’re the one trying to protect me and none of the others?” Nicole asked Darach as she put a carton of eggs in the refrigerator.

  An annoyingly soft smile came to Jackie’s lips. “You mean why isn’t his cousin who swore to protect you here?” The smile took on a smirk-like quality. “Brute that he is.”

  “Oh, he’ll be here soon enough if you dinnae agree to come,” Darach said. “Up until now Niall’s been busy helping Laird MacLomain fortify the castle so that we might keep the future King and his mother safe.”

  “And that doesn’t fall into your job description?” Nicole asked, shaking her head at her own words. They sounded too much like she cared which cousin was here.

  “Aye and nay.” Darach shoved some canned goods in the cabinet. “I help when I’m there but I’m a Hamilton so I have to travel to my castle as well.”

  “Busy boy.” Nicole shot him a grin. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  “It almost sounds like you are, though,” Jackie pointed out softly as she poured hot water into a mug then added a tea bag. She slanted a look at Nicole. “Maybe you’re just hoping a MacLomain will toss you over his shoulder and force you to travel back in time.”

  Jackie, of course, referred to what Niall had done to Nicole the first time they met. “Don’t be a wiseass. Besides, he didn’t get far with that.”

  Darach chuckled and tossed Nicole another beer. “You’ve yet to arrive at MacLomain Castle and already you’ve earned a reputation.”

  Nicole cracked open the beer and snorted. “Right, I’m the lass who brought a mighty Highlander to his knees with one good pinch.” She bared her teeth and offered a dainty chomp. “Just wait till they see what I can do with a little nip to the right area.”

  “Oh dear God, you’re bad,” Jackie murmured, biting back a grin as she tossed her tea bag in the trash.

  “I think it’d be wise to keep Nicole away from Rònan,” Bradon said, slapping Leslie on her rear end when she turned away. “Those two might throw the whole damn country into havoc if they meet.”

  “It’s hard to imagine a man who rivals you, Nicole,” Jackie said, yet there was fondness in her eyes. “But maybe too much intensity for anything that could last.”

  “I dunno.” Nicole shrugged and took a gulp of beer. “Birds of a feather, after all.”

  “Last I read, dragon-shifters don’t have feathers but scales,” Jackie remarked.

  “Ha ha, because Rònan’s part dragon. Quick comeback.” Nicole patted her on the shoulder in passing. “Looks like I’m finally rubbing off on you.”

  Nicole didn’t wait for a response but headed out to the barn. Autumn was peaking
and the late day sun ignited red, yellow and orange in the surrounding forest. Never one to pay much attention to nature, she headed inside and inhaled the fresh scent of hay. Barns and horses weren’t really her thing either but something about this place, better yet the horse in the first stall, kept drawing her. Oddly enough, like Cassie’s horse had with her, the one Nicole kept admiring shared the same hair color. Dark red.

  As always, the minute she stepped in, Vika trotted over. Apparently her name meant ‘from the creek’ in Scotland. Hopefully, she would not have the same ominous outcome that Cassie’s horse Athdara did. Meaning ‘from the oak ford,' Athdara didn’t end up doing so well at that location.

  “Not you, though, eh, girl?” Nicole murmured, patting Vika’s muzzle when she thrust it over the stall door.

  Nicole flinched when she caught sight of the Claddagh ring that had ended up on her finger the night she arrived. In no way, shape or form had she put it on. Nope, it was simply there when she awoke the next morning. With nothing at its center but a clear stone, she soon learned that it was one of the original Claddagh rings created by a Celtic god. What was worse? It evidently brought together a Broun and her one true love MacLomain.

  “True love. Yeah right.” Nicole shook her head and kept patting Vika. “Stupid concept.”

  Vika tossed her head and neighed as if she agreed entirely.

  “I dinnae know.” Darach joined her. “’Tis a thing love. It has a tendency to hit those who dinnae believe in it the hardest.”

  “There’s that ancient kick-ass accent.” She smiled. “You whip it out when you feel like it, don't you?”

  “’Tis far more comfortable on my tongue.” He patted Vika as well. “Your accent is difficult.”

  “You don’t speak with my accent in the least,” she said. “But nice try.”

  “Aye.” He grinned. “Because you pahk your cah, right?”