After slipping them back on over his soaked hose, he stood and faced the sun. Water rolled off his wool plaid. His slashed shirt clung to his skin, as sticky and uncomfortable as the wet hair that draped across the back of his neck. As a warrior, he had suffered similar discomforts, but he had no idea where he had landed, or when. During his plunge into the small, shallow river, he had fallen from his mount. Where was the black beast?
“Falcon!”
Gavin’s teeth chattered as he glanced up and down the riverbank for signs of his friend. He needed to find Falcon and retrieve his satchel. Were the potions and gemstones safe? In order to return to his homeland, he would need them. Without them, he would be stuck in this time.
He rested a hand on his wound until a rustling in the trees made him reach for the dirk still safely strapped to his side. Gaelic curses colored the air the moment he realized his sheathed long sword was tied to Falcon’s saddle, along with his bag of potions.
“No need for weaponry, Laird Sinclair. I will no’ harm ye.”
“Jaden-Tog?” The brownie was here? Had his spell simply moved him and Falcon to another location, but not back in time as planned?
“Doono’ worry, laird. Ye successfully used yer sorcery skills.”
The brownie knows my secret?
“Secrets stay secret, to me. I used to share information with others, such as yer da’. No more.”
Gavin sensed a story, there, but if the brownie told the truth, his secret was safe, at least for now. He adjusted the muted purple plaid, the colors of his mother’s clan, then re-pinned the Amethyst brooch at his shoulder.
“I see ye doono’ wear the colors of yer sire. Understandable.”
Gavin’s feet squished as he walked around the little creature, worried the brownie was not alone. “Why are ye here?”
“I have unfinished business.”
“For my sire?”
“Nay. That man lost my aid when he attempted to ravish the lass, Isobel. I doono’ condone such behavior. I helped her escape Castle Tulac, so Angus is out for my head.”
The comment struck a nerve. This little man, standing no higher than Gavin’s waist, had saved Izzy when he could not.
“I thank you.” Gavin extended his hand. Blood dripped from his fingers.
Jaden-Tog laughed. “Yer welcome, laird. Now, I help ye.” The imp waved a hand at the wound on Gavin’s side, and it instantly healed.
“My thanks. Again.” He needed to find Jenny, but dare not share his desire with the imp. Not yet. His gut twisted, sensing the brownie had formed an alternate plan that would commence should he accept the imp’s help. Since he did not know his location, or the year, and had lost his horse and conjuring aides, he was without hope. He prayed that making a deal with the devil would end well, but doubt filled his heart.
“My garron has fled. Can ye help me find Falcon?”
The brownie must have assumed he had taken the bait. He danced a jig, bowed, then pointed through the trees.
“Yer handsome steed has followed the trail to the stable behind Izzy and Jake’s former home. There he will find food, water, and shelter.”
Gavin was shocked, yet pleased. Jenny shared the home with those two. He had met her in the yard between a large house and a small barn. If what the brownie said was true, he had successfully made the trip to the future. More information would help save Jenny.
The brownie winked. “Aye, Lady Morgan is in trouble.”
Shoving aside the fact the imp had read his thoughts, he pulled his dirk from the sheath at his hip, shook river water from the edge of the blade, and threatened the brownie. “Tell me all ye know! Show me how to find her. Now!”
Jaden-Tog started to raise his arms, then must have thought the better of it. “I can help ye, if ye grant me a boon.”
Gavin lowered his dirk, and growled. “What do ye demand of me?”
“Demand? Nay. I am asking as a friend. If a person I know is discovered to have… committed a crime…will ye assist in her release?”
“Her?”
The brownie only smiled.
If the favor is for a female, than ‘tis not my father.
The brownie rocked back on the heels of his boots, waiting. A glimmer of a smile curved his tiny mouth, and Gavin prayed he would not come to regret his answer. “Aye, I will help her.”
“Good. Hold my hand.”
Gavin’s eyebrow shot up, but the little man’s hand was raised, open, and empty.
“Trust me, laird.”
“I hope I doono’ come to regret this.”
When the brownie’s warm fingers closed around his hand, now free of blood, the air shimmered. A shiver coursed through him, and his body grew light as air. Intense illumination made his eyes clamp shut. His skin crawled, because the sensations were oddly familiar.
“Here we are, my laird. Open yer eyes, and go find yer woman.” Jaden-Tog pointed to an army of large tents holding court beside a huge three-story edifice. Thunderous applause filled the air at intervals, and the sounds, roars, and smells stirred his recollection of a recent event, back in Scotland. The aroma of roasted meat and fresh-baked Scottish shortbread tempered the odor of cow and sheep dung. “A Highland festival?”
Jaden-Tog chuckled, and released Gavin’s hand. “Aye, the 21st century version. ‘Tis no’ much different. However, I believe she headed that way. See?”
Gavin’s gaze followed the direction of the brownie’s finger, which pointed away from the crowds and tents. Taking a chance, he strode along the gravel trail, toward the odd metal carriages that he had noticed near Jenny’s home, while the brownie kept pace.
Had only a fortnight passed since he last traveled to this time in search of his betrothed? As he increased his pace, an object on the ground, in the middle of a trail ahead, caught his attention.
“A doeskin slipper!”
“Aye, ‘tis the footwear yer Jenny was wearing. Can ye no’ sense her, laird?”
Gavin glared at the little man, then closed his eyes. Using his sorcery-aided senses, he searched for the truth. He was too new at magic to sense her, but Jenny’s fragrance invaded his nose, proving she had passed by this way.
On the distant edge of the lot, and farther along the trail, a low hillock muted the sounds of rushing water, beyond. “Is that the same water I fell in?”
“Nay, my laird. ‘Tis a large river, and--”
“A scream! ‘Twas a woman’s cry for help, I swear it.” He felt in his heart, that the voice belonged to Jenny.
“Aye. I fear the current has captured her, and shall drag her to her death. Hurry!”
As Gavin ran across the graveled lot, and up the grassy hillock, he shrugged the damp shirt over his head. Tossing it to the ground, he paused long enough to lose his boots and hose.
While listening for more screams, he spied her slipper’s counterpart near the riverbank. He followed a trail of crushed grass and dislodged rocks as he raced toward the water. Another terrifying scream echoed through the trees that loomed above the river on its opposite bank. In the direction of the current, curling waves danced and spit around dark submerged shapes.
Deadly rocks. Or is that Jenny?
Leaping into the water, a larger shadow followed in Gavin’s wake, splashing near him. Unable to gain purchase on the river’s bottom, he dare not attempt to draw his dirk. Sent tumbling by the powerful current, his arms and legs flailed helplessly. He bounced off several boulders, until they shoved him farther into the river’s deeper center.
God’s teeth! I need to breathe!
CHAPTER 11
A mouthful of water kept Jenny from screaming a second time. When slammed sideways into a submerged rock, what little breath she held escaped. Kicking, and flailing her arms and legs, she finally broke the surface, and took a deep breath.
Sputtering, she wiped hair from her face, then whipped her head around, searching for Randy. Though thankful she had escaped his grip, she worried he had drowned. A shadow beneath the rush
ing water grew closer, so she swam toward the far side of the river. If it was Randy’s body, she wanted nothing to do with it.
How dare he drag her away from the festivities? Had he planned to kiss her along the riverbank, or do something worse?
“In broad daylight?” she said, then coughed. The water’s current rushed past. The farther she headed toward its center, the stronger and deadlier it grew, as it grabbed at her dress and hair. She kicked her feet, as her arms pulled her forward. She swam with all her strength, until a large piece of floating debris crashed into her. Rolling beneath what felt like a large, dead branch, she struggled to regain her freedom, and air. Something roared, but her submerged ears were useless in discerning its origin.
With hair plastered over her face again, she lashed out with her feet. When her kicks landed on what she suspected was hard, male flesh, she feared Randy had caught up with her. When he grabbed her ankle, pulling her closer, her hair floated free of her face. An arm wrapped around her waist, clutching her tightly. When they broke the surface together, her scream froze in her throat.
“Rae? Dear Lord! You found me!” She hugged him, and they dropped beneath the surface. Rae pushed her back up.
“Easy, lass. I am not the best at swimming, so let us get to dry land, aye?” With his arm wrapped around her waist, they headed back to shore. The current proved strong, and they made little headway. Another swift moving shadow approached.
“Dear Lord! If that’s a submerged tree trunk, we’re dead!”
A few feet from them, the surface of the churning current erupted like a waterspout. A head of dark hair, followed by a fist gripping a raised dirk, emerged.
“Gavin? Don’t hurt him. He saved me!” This wasn’t the time or place to make Gavin explain his sudden appearance.
Gavin’s dirk hovered in the air, but Rae didn’t let go of her waist. Still glaring at them both, Gavin growled. “Get your filthy paws off of her.”
“If he does, I’ll float downstream. Do you want me to drown?” Jenny glared back at him.
“We had best continue this argument on shore,” Rae added.
Gavin sheathed his dirk, swam forward, and snaked an arm beneath the shoulder opposite Rae. Kicking together, the three made it safely to shore. Jenny moaned with pleasure from their body heat, then cried out when the rocks poked the soles of her feet.
“Raise yer knees, lass,” Rae said.
“Allow us to help ye, love,” Gavin added.
Part way up the hillock, she lowered her feet to the grass, and they let her go. Jenny collapsed into the dry grass. Soaked to the skin, she sat up, shivering. Her dress draped over her wet knees like icicles, and her hair clung to her head in a knotted mess.
“I should have cut my hair the moment I got home.” She wasn’t talking to the men, but her own voice comforted her. The sun dried her back, but anger filled her heart with ice.
“I doono’ think ye should.” Gavin crouched in front of her, and his fingers headed toward her hair. She raised her hands in defense.
“No one better touch me, right now.” Not the way she was feeling toward men.
Gavin pulled his hand back, and said nothing. His head lowered as if he stared at her bare toes, then he stood, and glared at her face.
She met his gaze, but offered no explanation.
Let him squirm.
Stepping back, he turned and crowded Rae. Standing nose to nose on the riverbank, with water dripping off their plaids, the two muscled torsos flexed and preened.
Stupid men.
They planted fists on their trim waists. Damp hair clung to their necks and shoulders. Naked to the waist, both men were a remarkable sight. The farmer was as muscular and handsome as the Scottish laird. Both men must have removed their shirts before following her and Randy into the water, and the scene before her warmed her insides.
“Dear Lord! Where is Randy?”
“Who?” Gavin asked.
Rae raced into the shallows. “The bastard who took her.”
Gavin glared daggers at her, and she met his green-eyed gaze head-on, as she struggled to her feet. Her toes and fingers felt numb, but the fear in her chest blazed hot. She couldn’t bear to see anyone die.
She walked slowly over to the riverbank. “Why are you mad at me? I did nothing, which he claimed, was the problem.”
“What do ye mean, lass?” Gavin’s tone had softened, but his fist gripped the dirk sheathed at his side.
Was he concerned, or jealous? Neither made sense.
Gavin let me leave.
“Randy asked me out.”
“Out where?” Gavin’s brows shot skyward.
“Out. On a date. A romantic interlude? I declined his offer, but he grabbed me and--”
Gavin stormed into the shallows, without letting her finish her sentence. “I pray I find the bastard first.”
Rae laughed. “Do ye pray to the Lord…or the devil?”
Gavin glared over his shoulder at him, then continued searching the frothy currents for any sign of Randy. Rae walked over to him, in the shallows, and whispered in his ear. Jenny strained to hear their conversation, but Gavin turned and exited the frothy river. Rae began searching the depths, following the current.
“Laird Sinclair, why are you here?” Jenny struggled to stand on her cold, bruised feet. When his hand cupped her elbow, she shrugged it off. Water dripped from the hem of his kilt onto her feet. “That’s cold. My feet hurt as it is, and now they feel like ice. Quit it.”
Gavin lowered his hand, stepped back, turning toward where Rae waded in the shallows, scanning the river. Was Gavin going to ignore her question? Why was he here?
Glancing down, shock raced through her. The tops of her breasts were nearly falling out of her shirt, while the soaked linen molded her hardened nipples. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited for him to answer. When he did, his words drifted silently on the breeze, almost as if he spoke inside her head.
“Ye used to call me by my first name, lass. Have I offended ye?”
She bit her lower lip, and kept silent. Instead, she concentrated on reading his aura. Auras only showed the truth at a fixed point in time, and she would know if he lied, or had his mind on other things.
Things like the memory of our trek through Sinclair land.
Back then, danger lurked until they found shelter at Izzy’s farm, just beyond the border. Izzy had lived across the hall from her in New Hampshire for years, but Jenny had no idea she had left a home, and her people, behind.
After escaping a brutal attack by Gavin’s father’s mercenaries at his brother’s camp, she and Gavin had hidden in the forest. The battle made everyone split up, and Jenny wanted nothing more than to find Izzy. Later, she and Gavin, on a borrowed horse, had made their way to Izzy’s abandoned farm. However, Bull and Izzy had left behind a clue…a map of Castle Tulac.
Gavin had worried they had tried to enter the castle, but he had no notion why. Only later, had his father’s further corruption come to light. Rae Wilson, kidnapped from Izzy’s farm, nearly died in a fire in the Sinclair dungeon. While she hid in the forest, Gavin had stormed the castle’s bailey, demanding to see his father, yet his request went unfulfilled.
The distraction worked, by pulling his father’s warriors into the bailey, and away from the dungeon, Gavin told her. Once he sensed Izzy, Bull, and Rae were safe did he allow his father’s men to force him from the castle grounds. He had turned his horse, galloped through the portcullis, and returned to fetch her from where she hid in the forest.
They were surprised no one was at Izzy’s farm when they returned to it, as they assumed they would meet up with the others. Night had fallen, and Gavin built a fire. He deftly slaughtered and roasted a chicken he had found pecking in the overgrown garden. Jenny recalled how her stomach turned, but she had quietly gathered apples that hung low on the branches of half-a-dozen trees. By torchlight, Gavin visited a nearby stream and filled a wineskin with fresh water.
Their shared
dinner was a silent meal, yet something in the air made her vulnerable to his appeal. He treated his borrowed horse well, by rustling up food and water, then stabling it in the barn. When the night air cooled, he lent her his long black cloak. Night sounds had given her the creepy feeling that someone watched them, even after he had extinguished their cooking fire. He had scouted the area, and asked her to accompany him to a safer sleeping spot. They had climbed into the barn’s shadowy loft. He kept his body between her and the ladder, his dirk and broadsword ready for anything that dared to intrude.
When his words turned sweet and comforting, she forgot that he was not the sort of man she usually took to bed.
Usually? Be real!
In all her twenty-eight years, she’d made love with only four men. Each had spent months wining and dining her. Once they’d had sex, not one relationship had lasted.
Relationships require a lot of work.
The part that required the most concentration was the need to rein-in her abilities. Auras flashed, and burned her eyes. Anger and lust were difficult emotions to read and control.
“A penny for yer thoughts, lass,” Gavin said, louder.
Shocked out of her daydream, Jenny shifted nervously, then turned to meet his gaze.
“Funny how that simple saying also exists in this time.” Jenny huffed. Simple lust clouded her judgment, and she didn’t want to remember that night. Gavin was a mystery, and she had no room in her life for a man who didn’t answer her questions, appeared out of nowhere, and has the most kissable lips.
As if he read her thoughts, Gavin’s smile lit his otherwise dark and dreary persona. The only time his aura glowed iridescent pink with sexual desire, was when he leaned close to kiss her. Like he’s doing now!
She stepped away, and his cheeks reddened.
Jenny strode toward the water’s edge to talk with Rae. If Gavin meant to ignore her question, to explain why he had shown up in this time, while abruptly setting her world on its head, so be it. Her plans to forget the dark Highlander, and the mysterious secrets he chose not to share with her, were thwarted by his sudden appearance. She would not be swayed by a simple kiss.
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