A Magical Highland Solstice

by Mary Morgan

  Sighing deeply, she shoved the booklet back inside her bag. “Think backward, Eve. Everything is the opposite in this country. You can do this.” Stretching her shoulders, she started the ignition, and the car lurched forward.

  Smacking her hand on the steering wheel, she remembered this was a clutch. Restarting the car, she shifted into first gear and moved slowly out of the parking lot. The man waved at her in passing, and she nodded. Swallowing her fear, Eve made her way onto the main road, saying a silent prayer for the angels to watch over her and the other cars.

  Sure enough, within thirty minutes, she spotted a huge sign indicating the turnoff to Castle Creag. Pulling slowly off the main highway, she breathed a sigh of relief. The road narrowed to two lanes—no cars following behind her and none ahead.

  Though there was snow on the roadside, the pavement itself was clear, and the sun a welcoming beacon of warmth and light. “You’re actually driving in Scotland, Eve. Who would have thought, right?”

  As the road twisted, she shifted the gears with ease, savoring the scenic beauty at a leisurely pace. There was no rush to reach the castle. The morning air was crisp and cool. “Bonny Scotland, that’s what ye are.” She giggled. “Where did that come from?”

  Continuing on her journey, time slowed. Peace and contentment filled Eve. Never before had she experienced such bliss. Onward and upward, she traveled the highland road.

  Movement caught her eye, and she slowed down. A hawk soared in lazy circles in the sky. Fascinated, Eve pulled into a side clearing and watched the mighty bird. Turning off the engine, she took out a small package of shortbread cookies. She munched on her treat, and continued to watch the hawk. It dove one final time and disappeared behind the pine trees.

  Wiping the crumbs off her shirt, she started the engine. Pulling forward, the car jerked once, and a loud pop followed. Startled, she turned the ignition off. Quickly getting out of the car, Eve groaned. The front left tire had blown. “Really? Really?”

  Crouching down beside the flat rubber, she couldn’t determine what had happened. “And here I was having a glorious morning.” Rubbing her hands together, she stood and glanced around. She was a good hour away from the main highway and probably another two on foot to the castle.

  “I’m strong, fit—yeah, right. Strong, yes, but you haven’t exercised in months.”

  Determined not to head back, she gathered her backpack and pulled out her suitcase. Defeat was not an option in her book—ever. Removing a hat from her bag, she braided her hair loosely and shoved the hat over the mass. Making sure the vehicle was secured, Eve started her trek along the road.

  The beauty of Scotland surrounded her, and she relished being outdoors. Squirrels chatted in the trees, on branches dusted with a light blanket of snow. Eve paused when several jumped from limb to limb, snow powder flying everywhere. Smiling, she moved happily onward.

  Lost in her own thoughts and her scenic surroundings, she jumped at the sound of bells. Slipping on a patch of slush, that had edged its way onto the pavement, her legs flew out from under her, and she tumbled off the side of the road. The sky and land blurred her vision as she kept on falling down the snow covered hill.

  Landing with a smack near a fallen tree, she shook her head. Smarting from the landing, she blinked, trying to take deep calming breaths. “I will not panic.” Checking herself for any injuries, Eve stood slowly on shaky limbs and looked at her surroundings. Gone were her suitcase, backpack, and hat. The possibility of making it up the steep incline to the road now gone, and a slight tremor of unease settled inside her. She was soaking wet and her teeth started to chatter.

  “I’m in trouble,” she choked out. Swallowing the fear, she walked around the tree and tried to see if she could locate her items. Hope flared within when she spotted a dirt road ahead. Rubbing her nose, she kept on searching for her belongings. At the sound of bells again, Eve glanced over her shoulder.

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. Two horses were pulling a beautifully decorated wagon. A young couple was having a lively conversation on a bench, while the man dangled the reins of the horses. It ambled along the dirt path seemingly without a care in the world.

  “Gypsies?” That’s all Eve could think of, especially by the look of their peculiar clothing, too. Waving her hands about, she yelled, “Hello! Can you help me?”

  All conversation stopped as the couple glanced her way. “Oh my!” stated the woman.

  The man immediately jumped down and rushed to Eve’s side with the woman following closely behind him.

  He grasped her arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I was on my way to Castle Creag when I took a fall from the road above. I seem to have lost all my belongings, too.”

  “You poor dear,” said the woman. “You’re soaking wet, too.” She wrapped an arm around her waist. “I think I’ve got something for you to change into.”

  “But my suitcase and bag,” protested Eve. “If those can be found, I could change in your wagon.”

  The man had already disappeared through the thick pines. Within moments, he shouted, “I believe I’ve found your belongings.”

  “Thank goodness,” whispered Eve.

  “They’re floating down the river.”

  Eve’s shoulders slumped. “I think I’ll need those clothes.”

  The woman smiled and led her to the wagon. Upon opening the door, Eve climbed in after her. The interior was as stunning as the outside. Vibrant colors greeted her along with smells of cinnamon and cloves. Herbs hung over the tiny sink, and a small harp stood next to a velvet sofa. A perfect, cozy, traveling home.

  “It’s lovely,” stated Eve.

  “We think so,” replied the woman heading to the back of the wagon. She bent down by the bed and pulled out a large chest. “Let me see…” She looked over her shoulder at Eve and then back to the chest. “Yes. This will suit you fine. Oh, and you will need a cloak, too.”

  Eve frowned. “Cloak?”

  “Of course.” The woman stood and brought forth a gorgeous piece of material, reminding Eve of the golden leaves of Autumn. She then held up a stunning medieval looking gown. The material was cream-colored with the neck, hem, and borders of the sleeves trimmed in a tapestry of ornamental bands. Again, the colors—green, brown, and gold were reminiscent of fall foliage.

  Eve fingered the material. “I can’t accept these clothes. Don’t you have a pair of pants—jeans and a T-shirt?”

  Grinning, the woman shook her head. “My husband and I do not like to wear such clothing.”

  “Are you performers?” asked Eve.

  “Sometimes. Now off with those wet items and into something warmer.” She bundled the items into Eve’s arms, along with a towel, and led her behind a screen. “I will pack another gown along with some shifts that will go underneath.”

  “Honestly, I don’t need any more gowns. When I get to the castle, I can see if there’s a clothing shop nearby.” Eve started to peel off the wet clothes. Even her bra was drenched. After drying her body, Eve picked up the damp items and put them into the sink.

  “I believe there isn’t a shop within a hundred miles of Creag,” called out the woman.

  “Drats,” she muttered. “Then maybe someone can loan me something.” Stepping into the gown, she pulled it up and was surprised to find it fit.

  “Here, let me button the back.”

  Eve adjusted herself. “I feel naked without a bra.”

  The woman giggled. “You are a beauty and don’t need one.”

  “I’m going to feel utterly ridiculous entering Castle Creag looking like some medieval wench.”

  The woman spun her around. “You are not a wench, so toss the thought aside.”

  Feeling the heat creep into her face and neck, she nodded. Though the woman looked younger than Eve, she held an authority of someone far wiser. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Come sit. I’ll towel dry your hair.”

  Sitting in one of the small chairs, E
ve closed her eyes as the woman chatted and praised Eve’s golden locks.

  “There, I believe you’ll do.” She stood back. “A feast for the eyes.”

  “Are you preparing me for a ball?” teased Eve.

  She winked. “A banquet one will never forget.”

  A knock on the door prevented Eve from responding to the woman’s statement.

  The man, who opened the door, whistled. “A vision. May I escort you to the castle?”

  “Yes, please. How much further?” asked Eve, stepping down from the wagon.

  The couple both laughed. “About five miles around the bend. The castle is on the other side,” replied the man.

  As the woman wrapped the cloak around Eve, she said, “Your tumble landed you closer to Creag than you expected.”

  “I don’t know if I should be grateful or not. I’ve lost everything.” Reaching for the man’s hand as he helped her up onto the bench, she settled herself in the middle.

  A twinkle shone in the man’s eyes when he spoke, “Ahh…but you don’t know what tomorrow may bring.”

  Ambling along the road, Eve pondered the man’s words. So far, Scotland had been an amazing adventure, though fraught with mini disasters. However, with each of them, something marvelous did come about. She was truly blessed to come upon this couple after her fall. Thankfully, she’d suffered no broken bones, but most likely would have bruises. She shuddered to think what could have happened if they hadn’t been traveling this road.

  Leaning back against the wagon, she listened to the woman describe the different trees and other foliage. Wild mushrooms were growing along several oak trees, safe from the recent snowfall, and she pointed out the obvious mistletoe.

  The man gave a brief history of Castle Creag—starting with the first Murray. The castle so strategically placed, so secluded it had survived the many battles throughout the centuries and actually thrived. His vast knowledge of the area and castle impressed Eve.

  By the time they approached the bend, her mind whirled with many facts about the place. Glancing upward, she gasped at the imposing stone fortress. Sunlight danced off the castle, and she shielded her eyes from the glare.

  “I am sorry, but we must leave you here. Our travels take us east and we must arrive by nightfall. I pray you don’t mind the walk,” said the man, snapping Eve out of her thoughts.

  “No, not at all. I’m grateful for the rescue, clothing, and ride.”

  “It is such a lovely day, too,” stated the woman. She gave Eve a hug. “Blessings on your journey.”

  The man helped her down and gave her a hug, as well. “Stay to the path and you will be at Creag in no time. Let the light guide your path always.”

  “Thank you—both.”

  Watching as he climbed back up and took the reins, Eve marveled at the strange, but nicest couple she had ever encountered. As the wagon moseyed along, she waved goodbye and then realized they had never mentioned their names. She had to find a way to return the clothing.

  “Hey, what are your names?” she shouted.

  The woman turned. “I’m called Ailsa and my husband is Kenan. We were honored to meet you, Eve Brannigan.”

  “It was nice to meet you, too.” Smiling Eve turned around but froze in her steps. How in the heck did they know her name? Not once did she mention it. And why did their names sound familiar?

  Eve let out a gasp. “Impossible!” She spun around and blinked in confusion. They were gone. Vanished into thin air.

  Rubbing a shaky hand across her forehead, she burst out laughing. When her fit subsided, she turned back toward the castle. “What are the chances of me bumping into another couple with the same names as the new owners of my apartment building?”

  She kicked a stone out of the way. “Preposterous.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Sugar and spice and everything nice…that’s what beautiful maidens are made of.”

  Clenching his jaw so tight he feared it might snap, Cormac tried his best to remain silent. From the moment they had met Glenna, the woman talked or complained endlessly about everything. She was furious when Cormac approached her in the morn, pleading his best for help with the Yule feast. She scoffed at him and demanded he and his men leave at once, until she saw Cathal leaning on his staff behind them. With the druid’s gentle urging and stating Moira could use her skills, she finally relented.

  Yet, she grumbled about the weather, not being able to retrieve her basket of herbs, lack of clothing, and anything else that tempted her to give a foul opinion. If he had known the woman’s disposition, Cormac would not have sought her out. Nae, he was tempted to dump her off the horse and tend to the kitchens himself.

  “I demand ye stop,” she yelled behind him.

  Cormac glanced over his shoulder and saw the sour expressions on his men. “Why, pray tell?”

  “To gather the mushrooms at the base of a tree.” Dismounting, she pointed a finger to Gordon. “Hand me a blanket or cloth to bundle them up in.”

  Gordon rolled his eyes but removed a cloth, which held a small piece of hard cheese. Tossing it to her, he nibbled on the food.

  She made some gruff comment as she ambled off to gather the mushrooms.

  “God’s teeth,” grumbled Wallace coming alongside Cormac. “I fear our meals will be tainted. For all we ken, she could be picking poisonous mushrooms.”

  Cathal chuckled behind him. “Glenna’s cooking is known throughout the area. As is her healing ability.”

  “Can she not keep her tongue silent?” demanded Cormac. “The woman finds fault with the verra air she breathes.”

  Mirth shone in the druid’s eyes. “Ye must learn to bite back. Remember, ye are Laird Murray.”

  Cormac raked a hand through his hair. “I daresay she gives no care to titles or who is laird.”

  “Ye have faced worse, my friend.”

  “Humph! She is returning.”

  “Then, thank the Gods we are nearing Creag. Can ye fathom if ye had to cross through Wolf Cavern with her?”

  Cathal moved away before Cormac could respond. Giving a nudge to his horse, he gestured them onward.

  He welcomed the morning sun, allowing the warmth to fill his body. His thoughts returned to home, and a prickling of unease skittered across his senses. As he came around the bend in the road, he jerked hard on the reins of Fingal. His mouth gaped open at the sight before him. A woman stood in the middle of the road. She was a vision as the sunlight danced all around her, creating a golden halo of light. His heart pounded within his chest, and he found it difficult to draw breath. Her beauty undid him.

  “Sweet Brigid! Surely an angel,” stated a stunned Gordon.

  Swallowing, Cormac shook his head to rid himself of the image, but she remained standing in their path. “I dinnae believe in angels,” he spoke, his tone more gruff than he intended. The lass angled her head to the side and frowned.

  “A Fae?”

  Cormac ignored his friend and dismounted. “Who are ye?”

  She took a few steps backward. “I’m…umm…Eve. Eve Brannigan. Who are you?”

  “An English woman,” spat out Wallace.

  Cormac held up his hand to silence the man. He stepped closer. “Why are ye traveling the road alone? Where is your horse? Your guards?”

  “Guards? Why on earth would I need any guards?” She snorted. “A horse? Really? If you must know, I lost everything when I took a fall off the main road. Thank God a couple found me—”

  Finding it difficult to follow her words, he held up his hand. “One does not venture onto my land without my knowledge and surely not a lass walking alone. I have no dealings with the Brannigans and dinnae ken the clan.”

  Fury shown in her eyes, and she met his stare. “I don’t know who the heck you are, but I was invited by the Clan Murray to help with the Yule feast.”

  Cormac folded his arms across his chest. “Truly ye jest?”

  “What is wrong with you?” She peered over his shoulder. “Why are y
ou traveling on horses? Is it because the road is too narrow for cars?”

  Again, Cormac took another step toward the lass. She brushed back a mass of golden curls, and his fingers twitched, longing to touch them. Clenching both hands by his side, he replied, “To travel by horse is more sensible than by foot. If ye were invited, I would ken.”

  “Why is that?” she countered. “Are you someone special?” She looked him over and shook her head. “No one said we had to dress in medieval garb for the occasion.”

  Hearing his men snickering behind him, Cormac let out a growl. “I would ken, because I am Laird Murray of the Clan Murray.”

  The lass’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Sorry.” She bit her lip and rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I was invited, honestly.”

  Whoever the lass was, Cormac was not about to leave her wandering the hills by herself. If she was English, it would be far wiser to have her remain close. Furthermore, he wanted to find out her true purpose for being here.

  “Oh, for the love of Mother Danu, just bring her along,” protested Glenna.

  “Ye say ye were sent to help with the Yule feast? For what reasons?”

  She lifted her chin. “I assume it was to help with the baking.”

  Cormac glanced at Gordon and raised a brow. “Surely not Fae.”

  “Fae as in faery?” She burst out in laughter, and Cormac thought her voice was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

  When he recovered, he whistled for his horse. The animal trotted aimlessly to his side. Taking her elbow, he saw her flinch. “Would ye prefer to walk up the steep path to the castle? Or ride?”

  Again, she bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to ride a horse.”

  “Truly?”

  She waved him off. “I’m not scared of the animals. I’ve never had the opportunity to learn.”

  “Interesting,” muttered Gordon.

  Cormac smiled. “Dinnae fear. Ye shall ride with me.”

  Giving her no time to protest, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up onto Fingal. When he mounted his horse and settled behind her, Cormac felt her body stiffen as he placed an arm around her waist. He leaned next to her ear. Her mass of curls brushed his face, and he inhaled her scent—one of different spices. Lust instantly surged forth, powerful and intense. “Relax,” he urged in a hoarse voice. Though he found it difficult to do so himself.