Highland Games Through Time

by Nancy Lee Badger

  Her nephew grew like a weed. Blessed with a thick mop of auburn hair like his father, Kirk, the child had his mother Haven’s pale green eyes.

  I loved the little boy at first sight.

  His birth helped her bury the memory of her brief life with Lethan Falconer. When she held the little boy in her arms, she wondered if Lethan had persuaded her to marry him simply by promising her a child of her own.

  Before she left Wick, Fia had shared the news of Iona and Cameron’s life. The newly married couple had decided to travel around Scotland in order to help Iona get accustomed to her new world. Iona was from the twenty-first century and sold goods she called antiques for a living, but had given it all up for love.

  Skye understood Iona’s urge to explore her new world, but her besotted husband convinced Iona, a woman from Jake’s world, to return when her confinement grew near. If he had not, their first bairn might have come into this world on a mountain pass or in a faraway village.

  They welcomed a daughter barely a month after Haven and Kirk’s son made his appearance. Skye visited them, and had made plans to return to her own castle, but she could never make the decision stick. Though she enjoyed visiting their home, she returned to the Gunn lands.

  She loved her nephew. She loved her clan, and Haven was a joy. Her sister-by-marriage had become a good friend. The years trickled by, but the sting of widowhood remained.

  CHAPTER 13

  Her brother let her grieve among his people, and she had not the heart to admit her tears were no longer for Lethan, but for them. Once she killed the sorcerer, she feared her life would end.

  The sorcerer is verra’ powerful.

  She had no doubt they would die together. Until the perfect time arrived to murder the evil man, she filled her days gathering healing herbs and playing with her young nephew. As the fall of 1603 approached, the thought of returning to her own castle filled her with worry. She spent many a happy afternoon in the garden just inside the Gunn tower’s walls. The little boy dug for worms as she planted and tended her crop of medicinal herbs.

  She could still smell the damp earth, on that fateful day, and feel the warm sun on her back. A child’s joyful laughter echoed off the nearby castle walls. The guards’ footsteps, as they paced high on the battlements, had given her a false sense of safety.

  She set aside an ominous sense of danger as she played with Kirk’s little boy. He had celebrated his fourth birthday, and everyone had relaxed their guard.

  I should have known better.

  The day the sorcerer attacked, a lovely autumn afternoon turned black as death. One moment her nephew played in the freshly turned soil near an old barrel, while she plucked herbs. A heartbeat later, a sickening mist materialized beside her, stealing all the breath from her body.

  She had instinctively lunged in front of the boy, pushed him behind the barrel, and faced Andreas Borthwick. Weaponless.

  Why had I no’ thought to wear a dirk, or at least my sgian dubh?

  The sorcerer raised his walking stick, and a brilliant flash of light hit her in the chest. Breathless and sore, Skye woke on the cold, damp floor of a dungeon. He had magically sent her to the bowels of her own run-down castle.

  With the return of her ability to breathe, she found he had bound her hands. Her next thought was of the little boy. She paced the small room without finding him. Clearing her mind, she had used her power to sense him. She could not feel him, which meant the sorcerer had failed to snatch him.

  Relief swept over her.

  She could still feel the cold when she had leaned back against the stone wall of her cell.

  Taking stock, at the time, her body seemed unaffected by the sorcerer’s magic. Why had he transported her home? If he wanted her dead, he could have accomplished the feat in the garden.

  Realization hit her with the power of a warrior’s fist.

  My capture was a ruse.

  The sorcerer would use her as a trap. For Kirk.

  Horrified, Skye worried about Kirk’s next move. He would do anything to get his son back, but would he risk himself to save his sister?

  “I am no longer his burden,” she thought at the time. Then her thoughts strayed to why she was back at the castle where she planned to spend her married life. Had the sorcerer known no one lived here but servants? Had he harmed her people?

  Hours had passed in her tiny, frigid cell. The damp stone walls and dirt floor smelled musty. The sun could not reach the cellars, far below the towers. Lethan had given her a tour of her new domicile when they had first arrived to take up residence together. The cells were close to the cliffs and salt seeped through the walls to the east, staining the walls with ghostly streaks of white.

  She had not minded time spent in the cell, and had accepted her plight. No one had come to abuse or torture her, and even the sorcerer kept away. Her bedding had been less than comfortable. The offered food, unpalatable. She had passed the hours in solitude.

  Everything changed when the evil sorcerer had questioned her about Kirk, his holdings, and the size of his army of Highland warriors.

  She had kept silent.

  Even when he threatened to throw her to his men, she did not react. When he threatened to find and kill Haven and her son, she had choked back her response. Instead, she waited until alone. With a spell, she had escaped.

  Why did I travel here? To Jake’s world.

  She shoved away the memories as her thoughts turned to Jake. Warmth spread from her shoulders toward her toes, only to pool in her womb. Jake had saved her from being flattened by a bale of hay, but why had he grabbed her? He had pushed her up against the barn wall, and kissed her.

  Lethan had never made her body respond so quickly. He never assaulted her mouth as Jake had.

  Even now, my body reacts to the simple thought of Jake’s touch.

  Thoughts of Lethan never stirred her the same way. Jake’s body, pressed against hers, had felt hard as rock, and well-endowed. Would today’s incident devalue the memories of her late husband? Her connection with her husband was different than her relationship with her reluctant Highlander.

  There is no relationship. I need his help, ‘tis all.

  Another cracking branch brought her back to the present situation. Years had passed, but her mission remained. Ever since the sorcerer had kidnapped Haven, five years earlier, she would not stray from her task.

  “Nothing shall matter if I do not return to the past. I must protect my family. The sorcerer will die by my hand.”

  Skye tripped over a tangle of roots. When she fell on her outstretched hands, she cried out. More startled than hurt, she pushed up and regained her balance. After she brushed dirt and dead leaves from her palms and knees, she leaned against a tree, and laughed.

  “Thinking of Jake, and the sorcerer, turns me into a clumsy fool?” Falling on her face because she could not forget Jake’s kiss, or the sorcerer’s threats, was not to be borne!

  “I am a powerful witch and the sister of a laird!” she shouted to the wind. When the wind did not answer, she chuckled. Then she remembered the whispering voice she heard, earlier.

  After a quick glance through the dense forest near Jake’s home, she continued exploring. She looked closer at her surroundings. The trees of this world were unlike the ones edging the trail between Keldurunach and Wick.

  Thinking of Scotland brought a pang of homesickness that slowed her steps. Her yearning for home dissipated swiftly. Her brother’s less than welcome decision, and thoughts of Jake, were enough to keep her here.

  In this time.

  Her brother expected Skye to take another husband, and help the man rule Castle Barrowmann and surrounding village.

  Where would I find another man I could love?

  An image of Jake’s naked back rose, unwanted. Skye shook his likeness from her head, and followed what she assumed was a deer trail. Colorful leaves shimmered above her. Red and gold mixed with the green of pine boughs. With the branches soaring above her, she
suddenly felt small and alone.

  Shadows leaped. With the horrors she had experienced in Scotland still raw, she reluctantly turned and headed back. She and Jake needed to talk, with or without his friends.

  Bryce, the man Jake called Bull, had reminded her of the minions who had chased her when she escaped the sorcerer. She had nearly jumped out of her skin when she fell into his open arms. Later, when introduced, she understood the moniker.

  The massive modern man stood a hand’s breadth taller than Jake. His muscles stretched his homespun shirt across his wide chest, and his flirtatious gaze caused her a moment of discomfort.

  “If I were ready for another relationship, Bryce Buchanan would not be a contender.” She had kissed him unintentionally, and he was far too big, too powerful, and much too proud.

  Their intimate embrace had ended soon enough. How could she mistake his tree trunk arms and shorter hair for Jake? When the man she sought had pulled her from Bull’s grasp and devoured her lips, her heart had lifted.

  Doubts tempered her hopes soon after. Had Jake reacted to their kissing, or to her painful gasp? Had he whisked her away from Bull before he noticed she bled from raw wounds?

  “Skye? Where are you?”

  Jake.

  His voice resonated through the forest, and a rush of fondness filled her. He cared for her well-being. Her feelings for the man grew, the longer she was in his company. That in itself was a curious development. She was no longer a child of seventeen summers, infatuated with the first modern man she had ever seen.

  Besides, Jake turned out to be nothing more than a handsome man who nipped at her heels and made her head ache.

  However, his help was what she required; help to go back to her time and face the demon sorcerer, Andreas Borthwick.

  “I be here, Jake,” she called out. Pushing a branch aside she rounded a pine tree and followed his voice. The crackle of his boots on downed leaves was a welcome sound. When they met on the trail, her gaze soaked him up.

  Why I am suddenly thirsty?

  He was very handsome, but she had married a handsome man. There has to be more than a pleasing outer appearance. An adventurous spirit, and a thirst for vengeance topped her list, yet she married a quiet man. She grew fond of Lethan, and when he was ripped from her life by his untimely death, the heartbreak that followed was not something she wished to repeat.

  “I was worried.” Jake stopped and leaned a palm against the pine tree beside her.

  “Aye? Be there dangerous beasts afoot?”

  He smiled the same time a ray of morning sun broke through the trees. Momentarily blinded by the halo that formed around his head, she recalled how she had experienced such a phenomenon once before.

  I see his aura. ‘Tis red, colored by his struggle with personal attachment.

  She had witnessed her own aura turn red on the day her nephew came into the world. Skye had never felt such unabashed love for another human being. Not even when she married Lethan.

  So, so wrong. Not what I be needing, this day.

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “Time is fleeting.”

  “Then, learn to live in the time you have,” he said.

  His concern broke her from her frustrations, but his words were…familiar.

  “Learn to live in the time ye have…Dorcas said something akin to those words.” She gazed up at Jake, but he looked away. His profile was long and lean, and melded perfectly with a straight nose and ice-blue eyes. Her palms moistened and her womb clenched.

  This shall not happen. Not now.

  “I don’t need you reminding me about that…witch.”

  “I thought ye liked her.” Did he not mention he had agreed to watch over the old woman’s tent at the Highland games?

  “I like her. I just don’t like…witches.” His brows rose as if taunting her to snap at him. She was proud of her powers, an inheritance passed down from her female ancestors. With a calm breath, she successfully held her tongue. Last night, Jenny had lent her what she had called pajamas, which were nothing but short drawers and a stomach-baring shirt, the fabric caressing her like Jake’s hands.

  Dreaming of Jake Jamison had kept her awake last night. Misty images of two lovers entwined inside a bed chamber morphed into her quaking beneath a mighty dragon.

  Skye had awoken with a scream on her lips. She barely managed to cover herself before Jake ran into her room. The room that he graciously gave up for my comfort.

  He had asked her if she was fine. She lied, and he left.

  ‘Tis best to forget last night.

  She continued walking toward the barn, with Jake on her heels.

  “I needed fresh air. The walk did me good.”

  “The barn and paddock weren’t fresh enough?”

  His face was so open, and she stifled a laugh. In the past, the few times they had interacted he had kept his emotions under lock and key.

  Except for his anger.

  “Aye, I love the smell of stables. In truth, my wound ‘tis better. It itches a bit, but yer friend’s poultice is helping. I must thank her.”

  “That’s okay. Jenny had to leave early for work.”

  The concept intrigued her. “Yer friend works elsewhere?”

  “At the animal hospital.”

  Skye’s face must have reflected her confusion. His words had no meaning to a woman of her time.

  “It’s a place where they care for sick animals. She has a way with horses. That’s how we met.”

  Skye paused, then turned back to him. “Aye, yer beasts appear well cared for. I miss my Highland pony.”

  Jake smiled.

  She rocked back on her heels, and fluttered her fingers; anything to release the energy his smile caused. The boots Jenny lent her were the finest she had ever owned, so she concentrated on them. When she had slipped them on, she remembered chuckling as they were a trifle big.

  She must have smiled, since Jake’s eyes widened.

  “If you’re up to it, we can take a ride through the mountains. I know an easy trail—”

  “Aye!”

  “Okay, then. How about after breakfast? You haven’t eaten, have you?”

  “Nay. I wanted to see outside yer home.”

  “I didn’t have a chance to show off my prowess in the kitchen.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather trews.

  At his words, Skye’s eyebrows rose.

  “Ye cook?” She pictured him inside the confines of a home’s kitchen. She laughed. It burst forth, followed by a pain-filled gasp.

  “What?”

  “My wound.” She clutched her hip, and sucked in another deep breath. Jake closed the gap between them, and his hands encased hers. She shivered even as the heat transferred to her skin through his fingers.

  Maybe we should hold off on the ride—”

  “Nay! Doona’ make me laugh, and I shall be fine.”

  Honest concern glinted in his eyes a moment before she buried her head in his chest. The familiar scent of him swept her to another time, when she teased him about his blacksmith profession. Leather and something else, something rich and earthy had stolen her breath back then as well.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jake gently wrapped his arms around Skye’s tiny body, as if worried she would break.

  “I am fine, Jake.” She shoved his chest, and he backed away, but she missed the heat of him. Keeping him at a distance was for the best.

  “Whatever.”

  “I can ride as long as we go slow.”

  “Then, let’s ride.”

  She followed him back to the barn. In order to ignore the sight of his well-formed arse hugged in black leather, she concentrated on the birds jumping from branch to branch above their heads. Though the pine trees and their green and brown branches reminded her of home, the birds’ odd colors and brilliant plumage were unfamiliar.

  “The songs of these birds be different than birds of my homeland. Even the air smells unlike my world. Is that smoke
I smell?” she said looking toward Jake.

  He stopped so fast she nearly slammed into his back.

  “Maybe someone lit their fireplace.”

  A small wisp of smoke floated above her, as she followed him. She breathed deep, savoring the crisper, fresher air.

  No trace of salt or sea spray.

  Her shoulders relaxed. Why had she tensed? Was it due to the whispering voice in the woods, or because she guessed that the puff of smoke was Jake’s doing? She hurried to catch up.

  A horse whinnied as they exited the woods and crossed the parking area. Several motorized vehicles stood quiet. Jake had briefly explained how they moved without oxen or ponies.

  Another horse responded, and the comforting sounds reminded her of home. Her own Highland pony had proved to be a gentle friend, who kept her company when her husband went hunting.

  The dark void beyond the barn doors caused her to slow her steps. When would shadows of her previous imprisonment no longer affect her? It had taken her considerable time to enter the barn that morning as well.

  Jake pulled the doors wide.

  The familiar smells awakened within her a sense of belonging, which helped her to walk inside. Was it so wrong not to want him to witness her terror?

  With his voice low and gentle, Jake talked to his beasts. A gust of wind tossed a bevy of fallen leaves scurrying like tiny vermin across the barn’s wooden floor. Skye shivered, and turned to look at the darkening sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a lightning bolt slashed through the gray clouds that had rolled in out of nowhere. Wary, she stepped farther inside the safety of the barn.

  A growing heaviness in the air heralded the threat of rain. Tugging on Jake’s sleeve, they walked back to the open door.

  “The weather is turning. Should we postpone our ride?” Skye asked.

  “Nope. The weather report says there’s a chance of snow in a couple of days, but no precipitation is expected today.”

  “Weather…report?” He spoke in riddles. Had he not seen the lightning? He acted oblivious to the gusting wind. She gazed up toward the sky. The sun shone and she saw nothing but an expanse of blue, dotted with small white clouds. The wind had died to a subtle breeze. Where had the dark clouds and lightning gone?