Arch Through Time: Books 1, 2 and 3: Scottish Time Travel Romances (Arch Through Time Collections)

by Katy Baker

  The clouds had rolled in again and the breeze held a bite that had her pulling her coat closer around her. The branches of the trees rattled ominously.

  The walk took longer than Gretchen expected. Surely she'd not walked this far on the way in? But eventually she spotted the trees beginning to thin and she stepped out onto the parking lot.

  Except it wasn't.

  Instead of a smooth track of tarmac, Gretchen found herself gazing over an open expanse of moorland stretching as far as the eye could see.

  Gretchen stopped with a shock, staring at the landscape ahead. What the hell? There was no sign of the road, no sign of the parking lot. In fact, there was no sign of anything man-made, just endless miles of open country.

  "Fabulous," Gretchen muttered to herself. "I’m not sure how you've done it, Gretchen, but you've managed to get yourself lost."

  She turned to look the way she'd come. Her footprints were clearly visible in the soft mulch of the forest floor. Good. All she had to do was follow her own footprints back to the archway then take the path round to the parking lot.

  She set off to retrace her steps, being careful to keep her eyes on the ground so she could see her footprints. But she'd not gone more than a few meters when the wind picked up, sending her hair swirling out behind her. A curtain of rain suddenly came hissing out of the heavens. The drops were like pebbles, hard and stinging.

  Gretchen yanked up her hood. "Thanks!" she yelled to the sky. "Couldn't you have waited till I got back to the car?"

  In only a few seconds the rain became so heavy that despite her coat, Gretchen was soaked. It became gloomy so Gretchen pulled out her cell phone, flipped on the flashlight and used it to scan the terrain, searching for her footprints. The tiny beam lit only a few meters ahead of her and the footprints she'd left were soon washed away by the deluge.

  Gritting her teeth, Gretchen kept walking.

  Suddenly her toe caught on a root and Gretchen tripped, staggering to her knees. Her ankle twisted painfully and she cried out, her hands sinking into the muddy leaf-litter as she steadied herself.

  With a curse, she unhooked her boot and gently prodded the ankle. A spike of agony glanced up her leg and she gasped. Experimentally she placed her foot on the ground and tried to stand but the ankle refused to take her weight. Agony ricocheted through her and she collapsed onto her backside, grunting in pain.

  "Wonderful," Gretchen said, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "Just wonderful. Now I'm going to have to call the emergency services and be rescued like some stupid tourist who doesn't know what they're doing." She shrugged, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Which is exactly what I am, of course."

  She held up her cell phone, squinting at the display in the gloomy light and dialed 999 which would put her through to the local police. She waited, ear pressed against the cell for what felt an age for the call to connect. Eventually the phone beeped in her ear and a woman's voice said, "your call cannot be connected right now. Please try again later."

  Gretchen examined the display. To her dismay she noticed the icon flashing in the top right corner to indicate that she had no signal. A jolt of panic went through her. It was getting dark and she was lost. What if she was stuck out here all night? She'd freeze to death!

  Think, she told herself. I need to get back to the cave where all the tourists are. One of them will surely help me.

  When she'd walked away from the cave the sun had been in her face. That meant she'd been walking west. It also meant that logically, the cave must be to the east. All she had to do was figure out which direction east lay.

  Craning her neck, she peered at the sky. Through the branches she made out a small sliver of sky where the clouds glowed red with the last light of the setting sun. She orientated herself with this to her back and then grabbed a nearby branch and pulled herself to her feet. Pain shot through her leg but she gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore it. Using the sturdy branch as a crutch she began hobbling through the woods in what she hoped was an easterly direction.

  She wouldn't panic, she told herself. She would find her way out of here. And when she got back to her hotel she'd have a hot shower, put on a trashy movie and spend the evening curled up in bed eating ice cream.

  After the afternoon she'd had, she'd damn-well earned it!

  IF THERE WAS ONE THING that Ewan had learned growing up in the Highlands, it was that the weather could change in an instant. So he wasn't surprised when the day had gone from a balmy summer's afternoon to a cold and windy evening in the blink of an eye. He and his horse were soaked, despite the thick foliage of the forest canopy above them, and he looked forward to reaching his camping spot where he could build a fire and dry out.

  He'd left Skye nearly two weeks ago. The Harris clan had all turned out to see him on his way and a lump had formed in his throat as Laird Gareth and his family had clustered around him, imploring him to visit as soon as he was able.

  After that he'd traveled across open country spending the night wherever he could—crofter's barns, the occasional inn, but camping more often than not. Murray lands had grown steadily closer and now he was only a day away.

  Tomorrow he would see his family again.

  His horse suddenly pricked his ears and let out a small whinny. Ewan squinted into the gloom, drawing his sword. It paid to be careful. There were sometimes lawless men hiding out in these woods.

  Was that a light ahead? It moved through the trees several paces away, bobbing slowly at waist height. It was too bright and too steady to be a candle, and besides, no candle flame could stay alight in this rain.

  Intrigued, Ewan nudged his horse closer, gripping the hilt of his sword. As he grew near, Ewan saw that the light came from a small black box held in the hands of a strangely-dressed lass.

  Ewan pulled his mount to a halt and watched her. She shuffled along the forest floor with the aid of a walking stick. She wore a long coat and breeches like a man.

  What was she doing out here alone? She looked frozen to the bone. Her clothes were sodden and covered in mud and leaf litter. Then he noticed something else. The lass limped on her right leg and let out a little cry of pain each time she moved.

  He stood in his stirrups, cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, "Hello there!"

  With a frightened squeak the lass spun, her eyes widening in fright as she spotted him. Her ankle twisted beneath her and she went crashing to the ground with a screech.

  Fool! he chided himself. Now look what ye've done!

  He jumped from the saddle and ran over to her, going to his knees by her side. She struggled into a sitting position and glared up at him.

  "Why the hell did you do that? You made me jump out of my skin!"

  Ewan guessed he deserved the angry reaction. "My apologies, lass. I didnae mean to scare ye. I came to offer my help when I saw ye walking by yerself. I can see yer injured. How can I be of service?"

  Her eyes lit up. "Have you got a signal on your cell? Or even better, is your car parked nearby? Could you give me a lift? I left my car in the parking lot but I don't think I'll be able to drive with this ankle. If you could get me back to my hotel, I'll see a doctor in the morning."

  The lass's words washed over Ewan, making no sense whatsoever. Had she taken a knock on the head? Was her injury worse than it appeared? Had it made her delirious?

  "Look, lass," he said slowly. "I’ve nay idea what ye mean about cars and cells and the like. But I can carry ye on my horse and get ye back to yer companions if they be nearby."

  The lass peered over his shoulder, her eyes falling on his horse that’d begun munching on a bush. Then she seemed to see Ewan properly for the first time, taking in his clothing and the sword held in one hand. Her eyes widened.

  "Hang on a minute," she said. "Why are you wearing such strange clothing?"

  Ewan raised an eyebrow at that. Him wearing strange clothing? She was the one dressed like a man in no style of clothes he'd ever seen before. A
ye, she must have taken a whack on the head.

  "My name is Ewan Murray," he replied. "And this 'strange clothing' is the Murray plaid. Where are yer companions, lass? Did ye get separated in the rain? Are they around here somewhere?"

  "Companions?" the lass asked weakly. "What companions? I'm a tourist. I was doing some sight-seeing."

  There she went again. Using words he didn't understand. "Ye mean ye are alone, lass? That's mighty dangerous. It isnae safe for a lass to be wandering the woods alone. Ye might run into bandits or worse."

  "Bandits?" she snorted. "What are you talking about? This isn't the Wild West, you know."

  Ewan didn't reply. The rain was turning heavier and he was starting to get cold. They needed shelter. Maybe when the lass was warm she'd make more sense.

  "There’s a place nearby, a cave where we can get out of the rain and get dry and warm. Would ye consent to accompany me there? Ye have nothing to fear from me, I give ye my word."

  The lass's mouth made a little O. "You're going to Morag's Cave? That's the same place I'm trying to reach! It's where I left my car. Yes! If you could show me the way I can get my car and hopefully a cell signal."

  The lass dug the walking stick into the mud and used it to lever herself to her knees. Ewan grabbed her round the waist and lifted her the rest of the way. She was incredibly light, like a fragile little bird.

  "Thanks," she mumbled. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Gretchen. Gretchen Matthews. And boy am I glad you came along."

  Ewan took her outstretched hand and kissed the back of it, earning a look of shock from Gretchen. "Very pleased to make yer acquaintance, Gretchen Matthews. Wait here and I'll bring the horse over."

  She watched as he retrieved his mount. "He’s a lovely animal. Darcy would love him. Horses are her thing."

  "Aye, he’s a good horse," Ewan replied. "And plenty strong enough to carry the both of us. Here, let me help ye up."

  Before she could reply he scooped her into his arms. She let out an indignant squawk as he placed her into the saddle. He swung up behind her, put his feet into the stirrups and nudged the horse into a quick trot. He longed for a warm fire and some hot food.

  But most of all he wanted to discover more about this lass who'd literally fallen into his lap.

  GRETCHEN GRITTED HER teeth as she bounced around in the saddle. Her ankle throbbed something awful, sending splinters of pain right up her leg. She wondered if she'd broken it. Wouldn't that just be her rotten luck? She found herself leaning against Ewan, his hard chest pressing against her back. She forced herself upright and clung to the saddle horn.

  The day just kept getting crazier. Here she was, riding with a total stranger, a total stranger done up like some extra from a movie, no less. But what choice did she have? The only other option was to keep struggling through the woods alone.

  The rain was getting heavier, if that was possible. She couldn't see much of their trail but Ewan seemed to know where he was going. Despite her best efforts to hold her coat closed around herself, the water seemed to find every gap in her clothing and every bit of exposed skin. Gretchen shivered, her teeth chattering.

  "Are ye well, lass?" Ewan asked.

  "Just...just...a...bit...cold..." Gretchen stammered.

  "Here, lean against me. It will help keep ye warm."

  Ewan reached around and laid one arm across her chest, pulling her against him. Gretchen opened her mouth to protest but warmth, wonderful warmth, seeped into her from his body. His arm, where it held her close felt incredibly strong and reassuring. Despite herself, she found herself drowsing in the saddle, the rhythmic swaying of the horse lulling her into a stupor.

  Ewan gently shook her. "We're here, lass."

  Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up, looking around. The mouth of Morag's Cave loomed above and Gretchen breathed out a sigh of relief. She'd be able to reach the parking lot from here.

  But as she looked closer her relief drained away. Sure, they'd reached Morag's cave, but it was different to how she remembered. Very different.

  There were no walkways snaking their way inside. There was no hut at the cave mouth to collect tourist's money. In fact, there were no tourists. And certainly no path that led back to the parking lot.

  Gretchen glanced around, a spike of alarm tearing through her. "Where are we?" she asked Ewan.

  Ewan cocked his head, puzzled. "The cave. The place I told ye about."

  "But...but..." Gretchen looked around, trying to get her bearings. "It’s so different!"

  "Ye mean ye've been here before?"

  "Yes! I—" Gretchen paused. What was she supposed to say? That in the short time she'd been wandering in the woods, the tourists, footpath, even the parking lot had somehow been magically whisked away? He'd think she was crazy.

  Maybe you are crazy, she said to herself. How else do you explain all this?

  "The Hermitage has long been a refuge for travelers," Ewan said. "I canna see any firelight so I guess nobody has been here before us, but ye can never be sure."

  He strode to the mouth of the cave, cupped his hands and bellowed, "Ho! Anyone home!"

  His voice echoed off the rocks around them and then died into silence. There was no response.

  Ewan shrugged. "Let's get inside."

  He took one of her arms to support her weight. Gretchen leaned against him gratefully as he helped her to limp up the rain-slick rocks and into the cave. She used the flashlight on her cell to light the way and was surprised at what she saw.

  The stalactites were shorter than she remembered. The ground, instead of being covered by wooden walkways, was untouched rock. There was, however, evidence of recent habitation. In one corner sat a neatly piled stack of firewood and a fire pit constructed of large rocks. They were blackened with soot which indicated they had been regularly used. In a crack in the rock above the fire pit sat an ornate metal cross and next to this perched a leather-bound book which Gretchen guessed must be a Bible.

  Ewan helped her to sit and she leaned gratefully against the rock, relieved to be able to take the weight of her ankle and to be finally out of the rain.

  Ewan crouched in front of her. "Are ye all right, lass? Ye look like ye've seen a ghost!"

  Gretchen wiped a strand of wet hair from her forehead and considered how to answer that question. "I... um... I guess I'm a little disoriented. This place looks so... different from the last time I was here."

  Ewan shrugged. "So far as I know, the Hermitage has been like this since the missionaries came over from Iona many centuries ago. Monks come here sometimes when they want solitude but more often than not it's used by travelers when there is no settlement in sight."

  The Hermitage? Gretchen thought. That's not how I know it. I know this place as a tourist attraction not some travelers’ waystation where monks come to pray. Oh God. What the hell is going on?

  She fought down a rising panic and forced herself to concentrate on the most immediate needs. She'd begun shivering uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around herself and curled up as small as possible, her teeth chattering.

  Ewan placed a hand against her forehead and then cursed under his breath. "Ye need warmth, food and rest, lass. Stay here and I'll make us a fire."

  He jogged from the cave, returning a moment later with the horse who he tethered close to the entrance. He pulled down the saddlebags and dropped them by the fire pit then took some of the firewood and piled it in a pyramid shape inside the ring of stones. Taking something from the saddlebags, he began striking sparks and in no time a merry fire was burning. Ewan took some candles from an alcove in the rock. He lit them with a taper from the fire and then placed them at intervals around the cave so that it was lit with a warm yellow glow.

  He's done this before, Gretchen thought. Who is this man? This man who seems so at home in the wilds?

  "Ye can put out yer light now, lass," Ewan said, nodding to her cell.

  Gretchen glanced down and realized she still held the cell in her hand. Sh
e pressed the button to turn off the flashlight. "Yeah, thanks. I don't want to drain the battery. It would be just my luck to get a signal but have no battery left."

  Ewan looked at her blankly. She got the impression that he didn't understand a word of what she'd just said. She didn't want to think about what that might mean.

  So instead, she scooted closer to the fire and held her hands out towards the crackling flames. The heat felt wonderful after the chill touch of the rain. The warmth seeped into her limbs, thawing them out and making her sleepy. She closed her eyes.

  EWAN WATCHED AS GRETCHEN's eyes slid closed. He wasn’t sure whether she was just tired from her ordeal or whether there was something more seriously wrong with her. He needed to examine her injury before he would know for sure. He shifted around the fire and reached a hand to her shoulder, gently shaking her.

  "Gretchen," he said softly. "Dinna go to sleep yet. Ye need some food inside ye and yer injury seen to first."

  Gretchen's eyes snapped open. For a second she looked around wildly, as though she didn't recognize where she was, then her eyes settled on Ewan and she seemed to calm.

  "Sorry," she mumbled. "I can't seem to keep my eyes open."

  "I need to take a look at yer leg, lass. Will ye let me?"

  Gretchen stared at him. Now that he saw her close up, Ewan was struck by her beauty. Even with her chestnut hair clinging to the sides of her face, she was striking. She had large, almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Her lips were full and looked like they smiled a lot.

  Ewan cleared his throat. "Well? Can I take a look?"

  "Are you telling me you're a doctor as well as a woodsman?" she asked with a smile.

  "A doctor? I dinna ken what ye mean, lass, but I've treated many a wound on the battlefield and have some small skill in the area."

  She reached down and winced as she yanked off her boot and then pulled up the leg of her breeches. "Be my guest."