by Sky Winters
Chapter 10
“Sadie?” James called uncertainly when he came back to the clearing by the stream. He was holding two dead rabbits, and his beautiful companion was nowhere in sight.
Fear suddenly gripped his heart as he caught a whiff of something familiar – the sour scent of Lord Lachlan's men. He dropped the rabbits on the ground and immediately transformed into a bear, roaring ferociously the moment the shift was complete. He sped off, galloping as quickly as possible, following the blood-boiling stench of the guard, and the blood-curdling scent of Sadie's fear. If he was too late, he knew he would never forgive himself. He should have known better than to leave her alone!
His sharp ears picked up a whimper in the distance, and he bounded toward it as quickly as possible, cursing himself for his carelessness. If he hadn't been so embarrassed about overcrossing his boundaries and worried about losing his place in the clan, he wouldn't have put her life in danger for a hunt. They could have stayed together. He had been so foolish.
James leapt through the trees toward the whimper and landed right in front of the guard as he was beginning to tear his uniform off. He unleashed a deafening roar that made the man pause in his tracks and pale. His pants dropped to the ground, and James wasted no time in sinking his massive teeth into his neck. A gurgling shriek erupted from the man and James began shaking him wildly, until he felt the life leave his victim. He tossed him as far away from Sadie as he could, howling with anger as he transformed back into his human self.
Sadie was bunched up on the ground, sobbing with a gag in her mouth. He ran swiftly to her and removed it, throwing it to the ground as he pulled her into a comforting hug. His strong body was still tense with the throes of battle, and she cried against him. He soothed her, stroking her long red curls and kissing the top of her head.
“It's all right now, lass. I'm so sorry that happened. I shouldn't have left you alone.”
“It's not your fault,” she said through broken sobs. “I left to go see the deer and...”
“Hush, lass, all that matters is that you're safe now. You won't be leaving my sight until we get back to my clan. Come now, I fetched us a meal.”
He lifted her to her feet, pursing his lips in an apologetic smile. “I don't have my kilt,” he said. “But don't worry, it's with our breakfast. Do you want a ride back?”
Sadie didn't know what she wanted. Being comforted by the naked James held a guilty appeal, but it would quickly become awkward.
“All right, lass,” he said, seeming to read her thoughts.
He shifted back into his bear form and looked at her with soulful brown eyes, giving her an innocent, eager to please look that reminded her of a puppy. As if to solidify this image, he gave her a gentle lick on the arm that made her face break out into a smile. She climbed onto his back, laying down with her cheek against his fur, gripping it tightly as he walked briskly through the forest, back to the stream where he had left his rabbits and his favorite kilt.
***
They ate quietly, a small fire crackling between them. When they were finished, James insisted that he look her over for wounds. She allowed him to run his large hands up her arms and down her legs, his clear eyes searching for signs of distress. Fortunately, he found none, and he lifted her to her feet. Their faces were unbearably close, and the thought of just how easy it would be to take her full lips into his, to take her again, haunted James. But he had already made his mistake. He would be crazy to do it again and risk his place in the clan. He'd worked hard for it.
When she reached out as if to touch him, he turned away, as if he didn't know what she was doing. He bundled up the supplies he'd used to create the fire and tucked them away in his kilt before dousing the fire with stream water and making sure that it was out.
“The spirits won't let me hear the end of it if I burn the forest down,” he said with a grin.
“What spirits?” Sadie asked, frowning.
“Oh, you know, lass. The spirits! The dead who speak to us. They have a soft spot for the wee ones, animals like the deer you were chasing after. If I endangered them, leaving this fire lit, they'd haunt me.”
“I see,” she said, storing the little tidbit of knowledge into her brain. Things in the Highlander's world were not like her own. She should do her best to get used to it, so she could keep herself out of harm's way. Trouble was always likely to follow those who were unprepared and willfully ignorant.
“There's good news,” he said, straightening his back so that his six pack of abs rippled tantalizingly in front of her.
“What's that?” she asked, somewhat distracted by his body.
Luckily, he didn't seem to notice. “We're almost back to my clan. We made it halfway last night before having to stop for rest. There's a lot of daylight left, so we should make it by dawn.”
Sadie smiled at him, eager for any opportunity to sort out whatever was happening, but doubtful that it would make any real difference. Sometimes she almost forgot that she had a whole other world to get back to. Remembering home was strange, and comforting, but it also made her a little bit apprehensive. Back in her own time, there was no James, the man-bear who could lift her with one hand and fill her body with pure bliss. And there were no clear streams to drink from or deer who would approach you as if you were a friend, even without being fed by you. She was becoming quite fond of this world she was in.
Without warning, James shifted into his powerful black bear form and waited patiently by his fallen kilt. He bowed in front of her when she picked it up and used it as a saddle for his hairy back, pressing her head against his as he bounded through the wilderness and toward his clan.
Chapter 11
The sun was just beginning to paint the sky with the pinks and golds of twilight when James stopped trotting abruptly and lay down. Sadie had been nearing sleep and stirred as he growled gently. She slipped down his furry back and leaned against a tree, crossing her arms over her breasts as he began to shift back into his human form. He was facing away from her, and she eyed his lithe body as he slipped his kilt back on before turning to her.
“We're here,” he said, looking into the distance. “Before we go in, would you mind if...”
James trailed off and sighed heavily. Something was weighing on his mind, but he was reluctant to say what it was. She peered at him and he sighed again, actively trying to avoid her eyes.
“What do you want me to do, James?” she asked, frowning.
“Nothing, never mind. But what happened back there can't happen again. I hope you understand.”
“What?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
“I can't be with a Lowlander, not here,” he said thinly, looking down at the ground and kicking awkwardly at the dirt. “Things are a bit different in my clan. You'll soon catch on, I'm sure. But please try to remember that I'm not the man who made the rules. I'm just the man who broke them.”
She stared after him, her heart contracting painfully as he moved forward, leading her through the brush and toward a warm orange glow. The smell of a campfire filled her senses, and she suddenly forgot the cryptic words James uttered as she followed him into the camp. She felt self-conscious as all eyes turned to her, and James laughed, scratching his head as if he wasn't sure he would be welcome to the party. She half expected them to yell at him, he looked so guilty and sheepish, but instead everybody began to cheer and rush to his side, slapping his bare back excitedly.
“James! Everybody, it's James! We thought we'd lost you!” a man said excitedly. “Wait ‘til we tell the council, they'll be so relieved.”
“I doubt the council gives any care about me,” James said modestly.
“Who's the lass ye brought with you?” they asked.
Suddenly, one of them dropped his jaw. “I know that face! Isn’t it Sadie? Lord Lachlan's fiancée?”
“Oh, James,” an old woman said, shaking her head. “This may turn out badly. You may find yourself in some trouble, lad.”
He was ab
out to respond when suddenly the woman's eyes locked on the pendant dangling between Sadie's breasts. She opened and closed her mouth, grasping at the air as if to try to find the words. But they didn't come.
James lay his heavy hand on her shoulder and steered her away from the scene, changing the subject.
“It's best we talk to the council about this first,” he whispered, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Please tell the same to the others, before word of the girl makes its rounds.”
“Of course,” she whispered and hurried off to inform the council.
“Now then,” he said loudly, turning around with his most charming smile. “I believe I could use a drink.”
“Aye!” the men shouted, laughing and throwing their fists and glasses up into the air.
Sadie and James were surrounded by the crowd and led to a bonfire in the middle of the camp.
“Princess Sadie, meet the rebels,” James said with a grin, waving his arm toward the Highlanders who were gathered in front of the fire. They acknowledged her, somewhat suspiciously, all of them hushed and reserved when their eyes fell upon the pendant. She glanced down at it self-consciously and wondered if maybe it held them captive in the same mystical way that it had drawn her in. Maybe she shouldn't have put it on. Maybe it was cursed, and they could tell.
“Now where's my ale?” James exclaimed, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Sadie alone. She tried to follow him, but she quickly lost him in the crowd. She was learning that Highlanders moved quickly – very quickly – and she sighed, sitting down in front of the fire on a fallen log. She took the opportunity to be lost in the commotion and look around at the Highlander camp.
A scattered collection of tents littered the area surrounding the campfire, one tent standing importantly and looming higher than the rest. She realized that James was heading in that direction, a glass of ale in hand, and she fought the urge to follow him. If he wanted her there, he would have made sure she followed him. She smiled politely when someone offered her a glass, and she took it, sniffing curiously. The smell was strong, and she threw her head away from it in surprise. Still, you were only in the past so often. She figured that you might as well live a little. Sadie brought the glass to her lips and swallowed, raising her eyes as the bite of the alcohol warmed her insides, almost helping her to forget that everyone there considered her a Lowlander.
“Got a nice bite to it, eh, lass?” an old man laughed, giving her a toothless grin. She nodded, giving him a shaky smile.
“Leave the poor lass alone, Ivar,” a woman about Sadie's age said, shooing him away. He gave her one happier, drunken smile before nodding and hobbling away. She promptly plopped down beside Sadie and smiled.
“You don't have to drink that rot if you don't want to,” she said. “Nobody will think any differently of you. In fact, the heathens will probably just be glad to have more to themselves.”
Sadie smiled at the woman and offered her the cup she was holding. She took it with a delighted laugh and drank it down with a few hearty gulps.
“My name's Gail,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I'd wager you don't really know what to do in a Highlander camp, but don't worry. I'm sure James is explaining everything to the council as we speak, and they'll get you settled in. And if it's too late to take action, you're welcome to come back to my tent. I'll give you a change of clothes if you need it, we look to be about the same size.”
Sadie nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome. You stick out like a sore thumb in that green dress of yours,” Gail laughed. “And trust me, you don't really want extra attention. The Highlanders aren't generally very welcoming of strangers. We like to keep to ourselves and protect our own. But as I said, if James sorts it out with the council, things should be fine.”
“He said he'd make sure...” Sadie said, feeling suddenly betrayed.
James had led her to believe that she would be accepted into the clan, as easy as that. And if she wasn't, he would intervene on her behalf. But something about him had seemed different when they had reached the borderlines of his camp, and she hadn't been able to reach the man she'd met in the dungeon again since. Had he simply charmed her to get himself back home with a prize, thinking he might be able to use her against Lord Lachlan?
Sadie sighed, dejected, when suddenly James was standing before her like the answer to a question she didn't know she had asked, a faint smile on his face.
“The council said it was all right for you to stay here and that it would be important to get you used to our customs,” James reported. He had taken on a self-important tone that she wasn't sure she liked.
“Oh good!” Gail exclaimed. “Do they have a place for her to sleep?”
James nodded. “There's a room open in the council's tent for her.”
Gail's mouth opened and closed. “But why?” she asked, a little apprehensively. Her reaction made Sadie nervous.
“They'd just like to ask her a few questions and keep her safe from anyone who might think it's a danger to keep her here, considering she was Lachlan's fiancée. They know she's not one of the same breed of Lowlander, they trust me, but they want to talk to her for themselves and keep her separated until the official announcement tomorrow morn. It's best not to surprise everyone; it will be better to put her up safe.”
Sadie listened to James speaking in his intoxicating Scottish lilt. He seemed like he was important in the clan, possibly the leader. If not, something close. The men were all flocking around him, hoping for his attention, but he ignored them and turned to Sadie.
“Let's get you settled in,” he said, and offered her his hand.
***
Sadie stood before the council, a group of stern elders with deep frowns etched into their thick faces. They looked as if they'd lived long, hard lives but were all the wiser for it. Many of them had long silver hair and beards, while others had their locks cropped close to their heads. They sat in tantalizing silence as they studied her before finally, one man stepped forward and cleared his throat to speak.
She looked around for James, who was standing dutifully by the entrance, his hands crossed in front of his kilt and his broad chin tilted up like a soldier at attention. She felt very alone and waited nervously for the councilman's words.
“Sadie,” the man said. “What do you remember about Lord Lachlan?”
“He's a tyrant,” Sadie said, her eyebrows creasing in anger. “And a rat.”
“What he means is,” another man interjected, “how many memories do you have of him?”
Sadie frowned. “Just the one. I'm afraid I don't know how I um...got here, exactly.”
“Yes, James mentioned this. He also said you sought our help in unraveling the mystery,” the first man said.
“If it's possible, sir.”
“Aye,” he said, glancing to the other council members, who nodded their approval. “As long as you follow the rules and learn how to pull your weight in the camp. Everyone does their share of work, you understand.”
“Of course,” she said. “I understand.”
“You'll stay in the council's tent for tonight,” the stern man said. “We will summon you when it is time to learn our ways. Until then, we implore you to stay put, as your presence puts our camp in danger.”
“I'm sorry, I—”
“James will show you to your accommodations,” he interrupted, not acknowledging her apology. “James?”
James moved forward, ducking through a flap in the tent and pausing for her to catch up to him.
“I thought you said I'd be welcome here,” she hissed as he led her into the little makeshift room.
“You are,” he said. “Just give it some time.”
He gave her a sweet smile and a wink. With that, he disappeared from her sight, leaving nothing behind him but the swaying fabric of her entranceway.
Chapter 12
Sadie awoke early, dazed and disoriented when she discovered that she still wasn't back in her ow
n time. She half expected to be transported back every time she closed her eyes. Unfortunately, the longer she spent in this strange place, the more real it began to feel to her.
There was a tray of food near her bedside, and she pulled it toward her. A plate of berries and a slab of cooked fish. She ate hungrily, downing a cup of fresh spring water. A parcel of clothing was sitting on the foot of her cot and she sighed, undressing and putting it on. She wondered where she would be able to shower, but soon the thought left her head as she heard a commotion.
Deep voices were shouting – she couldn't tell if they were angry or excited. Maybe a mixture of both. She had been strictly ordered not to leave her room until they told her she could, which felt stifling. Still, she was more afraid of breaking the rules than she was tempted to find out what the commotion was about, and waited restlessly in the tent for a sign that she could leave.