“And leave all ye have come to love?”
“I really hadn’t thought this through,” she whispered.
“Time is a fickle lover. I can show ye the way back if going back is what ye want. But, be sure ye are running toward yer destiny, and not in the opposite direction.” The old woman pointed her walking stick toward the castle’s gate.
Kirkwall Gunn stood beside a beaming Lord Mackenzie. His formerly naked chest now sported a bright white long-sleeved shirt. It lay open at the neck, revealing a few tufts of chest hair. Over this, he’d pulled a vest of forest-green suede. He wrapped a faded swath of the clan plaid around his body from waist to knees, then looped it up and over one shoulder, then had pinned it using a large medallion sporting an emerald-green stone.
His leather belt held everything in place while a silver-trimmed leather sporran rested below his abdomen. He still wore his high calfskin boots. The hilt of a sgian dubh peeked from the top edge. He carried his sword across his back and a dirk hung from his belt.
Lady Fia stood with one arm wrapped around her lover’s waist. Envy flooded Haven’s chest at the smile on Fia’s face.
“Devil’s own luck,” she cursed when Kirk turned and glanced her way. Both breasts swelled with desire beneath her frock’s peasant shirt. Her nipples peaked, and pressed against the fabric. Desire dampened her thighs. Heat beneath her cheeks signaled she blushed under his scrutiny. She couldn’t pull her gaze from the sight of her giant.
My giant?
Fia’s uncle joined the group. A heated discussion ensued and kept the group from joining her and her odd companion. Haven turned her attention back to the old woman whose all-knowing smile made Haven flinch.
“The old man will come around. The Mackenzie’s mercenaries will pledge their allegiance to guard the family and their holdings with their lives. Good food, a soft bed, and a few coins will buy a poor man’s troth.”
“I got that feeling the last time I was a guest in their camp. They are quite loyal, for a band of brigands.”
“Me thinks they love their lord, though he has engaged them in too many battles. They shall enjoy the rest. Plus, they now have a chance to cavort with a lass. The village whores have missed them.” She laughed aloud while her ancient body rattled.
“Yes, I have learned all too well how much these men like women. I had the feeling any woman would do.”
“My lady must remember the time she has entered. Times were different, four hundred years before yer birth. Men were different. The Mackenzie will inherit this keep once he marries the Lady Fia. He has already earned the loyalty of the villagers.”
“How has he managed such a feat in so short a time?”
“He has based his raids from their midst’s. This is why he brought ye to the pub. He shares his spoils when successful.”
“And when unsuccessful?”
The old woman winked then added, “He has been a good leader, once destined to be a great laird until his father disowned him and banished him from the clan. These people know the truth, yet follow him or hide him from an enemy.”
“Banished him? He did mention that. How horrible, but Marcas Mackenzie has killed people. He kidnapped Cora, and me.”
“He did what had to be done. His brother died accidently, and his father’s grief made him blame Mackenzie. He still blames him. I saw Cora’s death in a vision. She tangled with her guard. Her death ‘twas an accident. The Mackenzie will soon rise up and take his rightful, peaceful, place in the world. This I know, my lady.”
“You seem to know quite a bit.”
“These two were destined to marry. Laird Kirkwall Gunn got in the way. If not for the battle foiled by a misty vision, Kirk would lie dead in the dirt. Your first spell, me thinks, saved all,” she cackled.
“Lord Mackenzie will marry his true love and Kirk is free to do what he pleases.” She sighed then turned to stare at Kirk, again.
The woman hooted. Haven spun back around. The old witch slapped a knobby knee that peeked from beneath the folds of her gown.
“Happens every day, my young miss.”
“Not in the real world.”
“This, Lady Haven MacKay, is the real world. Love is the reason yer spell thrust ye back into this time. Did ye not ask to be sent into yer true love’s grasp?”
“Yes. I screwed up when I worded it. I’m such a klutz.”
“I disagree. Besides, word has already spread of yer healing abilities. No one need know of yer witch-like talents. Ye could make a difference in many lives, if ye stayed.”
Haven glared at her. She had already thought of the people she had helped. Yet, Balfour still died because of her.
“Ye have been given a gift; the ability to choose yer destiny. Live here, live now, and take a chance at happiness. Or, reverse time and send yerself home again.”
“What? I can’t—”
“Ye did it once. Do ye doubt yer power to do it again? Think long and hard before ye make up yer mind to return to the future. As you ponder your decisions remember the words of a dear friend who said, ‘when ye find the man of yer dreams, grab him and hold on tight.’”
“Iona’s words!”
Kirk, still near the castle wall, stared at her, obviously worried at the noise she’d made. His own conversation must have ended because he bowed to Lady Fia then walked toward Haven and her companion. The ocean breeze pulled auburn locks loose from his queue and his surefooted steps covered the distance in no time.
No time. That’s the problem.
Now she understood what Iona meant. Haven hadn’t really thought about her friend’s adage until Kirk appeared at her side and clasped her hand in his. With a greater strength then she’d ever called on, she turned away from his scrutiny to question the old woman.
She blinked. She and Kirk were alone. “She’s gone.”
“Haven? Who is gone. ‘Tis all well with ye?”
“Sure. I’m fine. I like the smell of the sea, but those clouds look threatening.” He hadn’t seen the old woman? He unlocked his gaze from hers and peered up at the gathering storm.
“Aye. Me thinks we shall drown if we stay out here.”
She forced a small laugh, but could not meet his gaze.
“Come with me, love. We are invited to the betrothal feast.”
“Oh no. Are ye still engaged to—”
“Nay. The feast is to congratulate Lord Mackenzie and Lady Fia on their upcoming wedding. Her uncle always wanted her to be happy, but the weight of their clan’s safety hung about his neck as heavy as the yoke I carried.” He turned and walked toward the castle gate.
She hurried to keep up. And tripped.
“Devil’s own luck!” she said, sprawled in the thick sea grass.
Two meaty hands lifted her and she was quickly clutched against a warm chest. Kicking for balance, Haven reached up and secured her arms around his neck. She enjoyed his embrace as they continued their trek. She tried hard not to stare at his face, but curiosity got the better of her. Before she could comment on the nearly invisible fine, white line that had been his blood red scar, his head bent down and whispered in her ear.
“Ye are a brilliant woman of medicine. My pain has eased, my scar is all but healed, and my cock is hard as a rock.”
Color rose everywhere her frock did not cover. “You can put me down. I promise to watch my step.”
“As ye wish, love.” He slid her slowly down his chest, purposely sliding her against the evidence of his desire. When she stood on her own feet, his erection jutted from his kilt and nudged her abdomen.
“Reid has taken my weapons and promises to make them shine. He has tossed aside his splint since his wound has completely healed. I thank ye, my incredible, talented healer.”
His last few words slipped out on a whisper. Waves of pleasure skittered down her body, from her breasts to her toes.
“I have a way with herbs. Anyone could do as I, if trained.”
“Our clan is in desperate need of a healer
. Our last, a brilliant man, died in a raid. The job is yers if ye will stay.”
His blue eyes darkened as a heavy cloud passed low, overhead. A rumble in the west made them both glance upward. Storm clouds swirled and dipped.
“We’d best get inside. I don’t want to get wet. I don’t own any other clothes and these got wrinkled when—”
“When I ripped them from yer body.”
“Right.” She pushed playfully against his chest, twirled around on one toe, lifted her borrowed skirt, and raced through the gate. Icy droplets teased her nose and cheeks as she ran. Thunder roared above as she sped from Kirk and entered an open area ringed by the tower’s walls.
“Haven? Come inside,” Fia cried from a door on the other side of the bailey.
“Made it,” she huffed. Kirk followed close behind and wrestled her inside. His touch made her heart flutter. Happiness flowed through her until she recalled she’d soon be leaving all this behind.
She’d return to her tiny apartment, her unpleasant aunt, and her so-called friends at the newspaper office who hadn’t the decency to warn her about her married lover. A life filled with empty days and lonely nights.
“First, ye laugh. Now ye look as if ye might cry. What is wrong?” Fia asked. Shooing Kirk to precede them, Fia tugged her into the great room. Mackenzie sat near the blazing hearth beside Fia’s uncle. Several of Mackenzie’s warriors sat at tables laden with food and drink. Kirk’s men strode in and sat beside their former enemies. His men had bathed and donned long-sleeved, fitted doublets, similar to the present day Argyll jacket. Though clothed in finery, his men still looked formidable as they broke their fast.
Haven’s stomach rumbled.
“My love is always hungry. How she stays so small, I have no clue,” Kirk laughed.
His love?
“I could eat. Then I need to go.”
“Go where?” Fia waved to a servant carrying a tray of tankards and a pitcher. The servant bowed then poured. “Ye may go, Anice.”
“Was that Anice? From your clan?” She turned to Kirk and did not miss his scowl.
“Aye. With Balfour dead, she has no reason to return home. Fia offered her a position in the castle and a comfortable room to spend the rest of her days.”
“But—”
“Do not fret for her. She told me she liked our Balfour very much, but were not lovers. His stories thrilled her and his jokes made her laugh. She will be happy here.”
Anice filled tankards with ale as she smiled and joked with the men.
Even she has a bright future.
“Where do ye want to go after we fill our bellies?” Kirk asked.
She evaded the question for a few moments. With a deep inhale for courage, she locked eyes with Kirk. “I have to return to my home. To Lincoln.”
“Where is Lincoln?” Fia asked with all innocence as she sipped her wine.
“Far away. I got lost. Kirk and his men found me, but now it’s time to go home.” More servants entered the great hall with arms weighed down with platters of meat, bread, and fruit. With summer in high season, they’d easily fill their bellies. Haven couldn’t imagine how these people survived during a Scottish winter. Would she be as strong?
Doesn’t matter. I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving.
If her potion failed, she’d seek out the old crone. The woman obviously could travel through time. She’d even hinted she could help.
“Haven!”
“What?”
“Kirk asked ye a question,” Fia whispered. The woman had laid her hand on Haven’s clasped fists. Kirk, a powerful man, needed a well-born lady to share his future. A healer some called a witch would make him the laughing stock of the Highlands. She loved him too much to cause him pain.
“Haven?”
“Yes? I am listening, Kirk.”
“Do not go. Stay here until Fia and Marcas wed. Afterwards, I must return home, to Keldurunach. Come with me.” His gaze bore into her face. Strong knuckles glided feather-soft across her cheek. Love pulsed through his skin while pain pierced her heart.
“I cannot. You might need a healer, but I need more. Much more.”
“Then, be my wife.”
“What did you say?” Haven squeaked. She coughed, and heat rose in her cheeks. Had her heart deceived her ears and make her think she heard Kirk propose? Actually, it sounded more like an order. She squinted at him and kept balling her fists in her lap. The aroma of food turned her stomach and the need to weep sprang up, unbidden.
“I asked ye for yer hand, love. Our village still needs a healer, but perhaps ye could fill two positions while ye train our best and brightest?”
Air fled from her lungs. Heat flashed across her breasts and she crossed her arms to hide her nipples, straining against the simple fabric. Kirk held out both hands then pulled her into his embrace. Guffaws and howls filled the hall as his men witnessed his claim on her body.
How can I possibly leave this man ?
“What the hell, I’ll stay.”
EPILOGUE
Five months later
Haven stood on the cliffs and let the ocean’s winter spray tickle her lowered eyelids. Chilled fingers brushed back several locks of frozen hair. She rubbed her swollen abdomen and wondered what to name the baby. Kirk had some thoughts on the subject especially since he hated his own name. Their discussion turned heated and everything that transpired last night swam before her in a dream-like vision.
“A name should be passed with honor through the family,” he had roared. “My father did me wrong when he named me for the place he got me on my mum.”
“Oh?” she had replied. “You don’t want to call our child Bulls’ Pub?” When she giggled, he had thrown her onto the bed, trailed warm kisses down between her quickly bared breasts, and feasted on her belly. He paused to plaster sloppy kisses on their growing baby until his eagerness made him strip her bare. Her giggles turned to moans when he rolled her to her stomach and nibbled the sensitive area around her tailbone.
“That’s nice. But, I can’t touch you.”
“Allow me this pleasure, sweeting. The view is magnificent.”
“The view?” Haven felt a full-body blush. He knelt behind her on the bed of furs and pulled her to her knees.
“God’s teeth, I cannot hold back.” He grunted as he slid inside. The fullness she felt when his hot length plunged inside her to the hilt startled her, but he held her up with one arm around her waist. When Kirk stopped moving, she whimpered.
“A moment, lass, or I shall not be responsible for a short performance.”
“There is nothing short about you,” she said.
He chuckled and then moved.
Desire flooded her as his thrusts intensified in both speed and depth. She’d had to reassure him that making love would not harm their baby. Once he’d listened and understood, he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. The idea was quite remarkable for someone like her. He loved her and told her so, several times a day. More importantly, he shared his feelings for her with his clan.
No secrets.
Haven had made the right decision, which was her last lucid thought before her body shuddered with the impact of a mind-blowing orgasm.
Last night, Kirk had made her toes curl twice. Recalling the pleasure, she rubbed her arms. Standing alone on the cliffs, Haven thought about sex, love, and home.
“This time is home and no one can tell me different.”
“And if ye could simply walk through the mist and return from whence ye came? Would ye do this?”
She heard the voice of the old crone reverberate in her ears until drowned out by the crashing waves. Haven stepped back then turned toward the sound. The strange old woman stood beside her, the crude yellow stone of her medallion sparkling in the morning sun. She gripped her crooked cane with both gnarled hands as she joined Haven and stared out to sea. Her threadbare shawl whipped about her shoulders. Both women shivered.
“Let’s get out of this wind so we c
an talk.”
“Aye.”
Haven linked her arm through the fragile woman’s and led her down the slope and into the bailey of Castle Ruadh. The wind didn’t reach inside these walls, evident by the smell of manure and leather. Several warriors practiced with dirks in a far corner. Anice poured water from a skin for the men waiting their turns. She giggled like Gavina, who had returned to Clan Gunn’s homeland several months earlier.
“Sit by the fire. I’ll find us some food.” She and Kirk were visiting Lady Fia and her husband, Marcas Mackenzie. Haven had jumped on the idea to visit the ocean, and her new friends, once more.
Other friends were no longer close at hand. After their party had returned to Keldurunach, and Haven had fallen in love with Kirk’s home, Reid had finally participated in a creach with other young men of the clan. Without incident, they safely returned the dozen Highland Cows they managed to borrow from the neighboring Sutherland herd and Reid had proudly returned to his own village.
She had visited the burial site where Kirk’s men had laid Balfour to rest overlooking a valley filled with meadowsweet and heather. A huge rock cairn, a monument to a life full of war, storytelling, and peace, became a favorite gathering place for picnicking young lovers. Haven had toasted his life by pouring a tankard of his strong brew on the stones.
Gavina married a warrior from Clan MacKay whom she met at the Highland games held during the autumn harvest. Gavina’s new husband also sported a zigzagging scar, but had refused Haven’s offer of medicine.
He whispered that he believed Gavina’s devotion to his mark was powerful. Haven sighed with relief to have her gone and tried not to dwell on the fact that Gavina might be her ancestor.
Cameron Robeson’s fate brought the most turmoil to Haven’s new life. Her heart broke when she listened as he confessed his sins to Kirk. Kirk’s shock at his flesh and blood’s betrayal caused widespread panic within the clan.
Some people assumed Kirk would forgive Cameron. She knew better because she knew Kirk. He could not let such treachery pass, especially when Haven had been hurt because of his actions.
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