The Highlander's Home

by Bess McBride

  “At Dun Eistean.”

  “Dun Eistean?” both Iskair and I repeated in unison.

  “But I thought you were taken by the Macleods,” I said.

  “We were marched out of the castle. We thought you were dead!” Dylan said to Iskair.

  “As ye see, I live. Continue!”

  “But Angus Macleod got word somehow that you were headed to Ardmore Castle, and most of his forces broke away, heading for the castle. Rob, Kenny and Euan managed to overcome the men Macleod had left with us, and the entire group returned to Dun Eistean. Angus had rallied the men he left behind on Dun Eistean to Ardmore. Can I assume you have taken the castle back?”

  “It was no mine to take, but aye, John Morrison has his castle.”

  “Iskair, John is Dylan’s eighth or tenth or something great-grandfather. I don’t know if you knew that.”

  Iskair swung his head in my direction, then toward Dylan. He hissed and shook his head.

  “Nay, I was no aware ye were true kin to John. I apologize to ye.”

  “And he’s related to you,” I added. “Through your mother.”

  “Ye are correct,” Iskair said in a deep voice. He held out a hand to Dylan, who took it.

  “Cousin,” Dylan said with a wary nod.

  “Aye, cousin it is.”

  The rest of the Morrison men filtered in through the woods. I caught sight of John staring at Dylan. Other than body type, the resemblance was startling.

  John moved forward, Torq and Andrew following. The rest of the men crowded around us.

  “Dylan,” John said in a deep voice. “Where are the women and bairns?”

  “Safe, at Dun Eistean,” Dylan said, his eyes wide. He stuck out his hand as if to shake John’s, but the larger man pulled Dylan into his arms.

  “Grandson,” he whispered.

  My eyes watered as I watched Dylan stiffen and then wrap his arms around his many times great-grandfather. Torq’s lips moved in a rare smile, and Andrew studied the pair with wide eyes. The men shuffled, unsure of what was going on.

  I felt Iskair looking down at me, and I met his eyes.

  “I dinna ken what to think,” he said in a low voice.

  “It’s touching. Ann is his many times great-grandmother.”

  John set Dylan from him.

  “I have so much to ask ye, but I ken we must hasten to Dun Eistean. Our ladies must be worried. Why did ye return to Knockbost Castle?”

  “I was worried about Debra. She wasn’t taken prisoner, and I didn’t know what had happened to her. Since this is the last place where I saw her, I came back.”

  Dylan shifted his eyes toward me, then to Iskair before looking away. My heart skipped a beat. Dylan had come for me. In all the chaos since our arrival and my almost instantaneous infatuation with Iskair, I had almost forgotten that Dylan and I had been close. I had even considered the possibility of marrying him, though I suspected that particular notion had been all in my head.

  Iskair lowered his arm, releasing me from his physical, if not psychological, hold. I looked at him to see that he took a step away from me.

  It seemed only a moment ago that he had challenged Dylan for me—laid claim to me—though I used that term only in the historical sense. I was far too modern of a girl to want to be owned by anyone.

  Still, Iskair’s show of jealousy had touched me. Something in Dylan’s words now made Iskair withdraw from me. I didn’t know what to say or do.

  “We must go,” Iskair said. “Ye can ride wi me or...” He looked toward Dylan.

  “I will take my...cousin...up on my horse,” John said, clapping a hand on Dylan’s back.

  Dylan looked at me again before following John to his horse.

  “What is yer wish, Debra?”

  “I want to go with you, Iskair!” I said in a low voice.

  He led the way to the horse and helped me mount. When he climbed up behind me and took the reins, I no longer felt warm but as if I was in the arms of a polite stranger. When we left the tree line, I spoke without looking up.

  “What has changed, Iskair?”

  “Naethin has changed.”

  “But I thought we exchanged...I mean, didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

  “Aye.”

  “So why do you feel so distant?”

  “I am here behind ye. I could no be closer.”

  “Don’t be disingenuous, Iskair! I think you know what I mean.”

  “Ah! Ye are calling upon yer arsenal of twenty-first-century words, I see.”

  Sarcasm dripped from his voice, something I had never heard from him. Iskair was the most authentic man I had ever met, and the cynicism in his tone worried me. What sort of mercurial man had I fallen in love with?

  “Does that mean you don’t know what disingenuous means? It means—”

  “Ye have no need to speak down to me, lass. I ken the meaning.”

  It was as if we talked in circles.

  “I don’t mean to talk down to you, Iskair. I admire you tremendously.”

  Iskair didn’t respond. I felt his heart beating fast at my back, suggesting he was experiencing some sort of emotion.

  “I love you, Iskair. I love you.”

  Iskair didn’t respond right away, and pain ripped through my chest.

  “I love ye too, lass,” he finally said. “That has no changed. But it seems clear that Dylan has a fondness for ye as well. When he said that he came to find ye, I kent then that he still cared for ye. It set me to thinking. I am no sure this is the life for ye. Angus is dead, that is true, but the struggles will continue. Another chieftain will take his place, and the Macleods will no be happy until the Morrisons are dead. It is in their blood.

  “I canna bind ye here wi me when I believe ye will be happier in yer own time. I love ye too, but I think ye should return home. I suspect Dylan will want to go home as well.”

  I wanted to shriek and cry “No! You don’t get to decide for us. I have a say in this!” But at that moment, the lump in my throat threatened to choke me. I put a hand to my neck, as if I could massage the pain away.

  Iskair’s fears for my happiness were understandable, but surely it was my call to decide whether I wanted to stay. Ann and Cynthia stayed, and they appeared relatively happy...though I hadn’t seen either since they had been kidnapped.

  It was possible that love did conquer all, that love would see me through the adjustment to life in the sixteenth century.

  I wanted to say all that, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to beg. I didn’t want to beg Iskair to love me enough to let me stay. I remained silent, barely registering the fact that I actually had no way home anyway, not without the dagger.

  I looked up ahead, at Dylan riding behind John, and I wondered how he felt. We’d had no opportunity to speak frankly since we had landed in the sixteenth century. I didn’t know if he was miserable or enthralled. I didn’t know if he wanted to stay or go.

  One thing was certain. Iskair could not make me return without Dylan’s “permission,” because Dylan could not travel back to the twenty-first century without me. And if Iskair did ask me to leave, then I wasn’t coming back to the sixteenth century.

  I straightened my back, doing my best to avoid intimate contact with Iskair’s chest, the beating of his heart. Despite the warmth of his arms encircling my body, I felt cold and alone.

  On horseback, we made good time reaching the plateau across from Dun Eistean. The sun hung low in the sky, and the tide was in. Access to Dun Eistean was impossible, and we could do nothing but wait.

  Iskair explained. “The tide is at its highest and will recede soon. We will wait here until it does. They canna keep the horses on the island. Some of the lads will take them to a nearby farm.”

  I slid off the horse and walked to the edge of the cliff separating the island from the mainland. Most of the men stood there above the crashing waves, including John, Torq, Dylan and Andrew.

  The women and children stood on the other side, cut of
f from the people they loved. But even from this distance, I could see the joy on Ann’s and Cynthia’s faces. Sara and Archibald jumped up and down. Everyone waved.

  I had never known anything but the bridge that spanned the divide between Dun Eistean and the mainland. I knew the original inhabitants of the tidal stack must have lived their lives according to the tides, but the impasse had never seemed so heartrending as when I saw it in person.

  I looked over my shoulder to see two men riding out, leading the horses. Iskair stood some distance away, still holding his horse’s reins. I broke out in a cold sweat and hurried up to him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly. “Why are you keeping your horse?”

  The man I loved looked down at me with sad eyes.

  “I am leaving. I dinna wish to stay here.”

  Chapter Twenty

  I could have taken Iskair’s comment a million ways, but all I heard were his stark words.

  I dinna wish to stay here.

  “Please don’t do this, Iskair! Please don’t leave.”

  He raised his eyes and looked over my head, almost as if I weren’t there.

  I grabbed his hand. Now was the time to beg.

  “Please take me with you. I love you. Please don’t leave me.” Tears flooded my eyes, poured down my cheeks. “Oh, please don’t do this.”

  The sun flared as it grew closer to the horizon. Its brilliance hit Iskair’s face, highlighting two ribbons of moisture running down the sides of his face. Though his body remained stoically rigid, his heart must have faltered, because those were ribbons of tears.

  I begged again. “Please don’t leave me, Iskair. I love you. We can make this work. I promise we can make this work. Let me choose whether to stay or go. I choose to stay...with you.”

  Through blurry eyes, I looked at him hopefully. He gently disengaged his hand and pulled it away.

  “Nay, ye are no meant for this time. I love ye too, lass. I always will.”

  He pivoted away and climbed onto his horse. With little experience with horses, I didn’t realize that I would startle the animal when I grabbed the saddle—as if I could stop Iskair from leaving. The horse shied from the sudden movement, sidestepping, and Iskair struggled to bring it under control.

  I jumped back, and Iskair settled the horse.

  “Ye could have been hurt,” he growled. “Go home. I love ye, but I want ye to go home!”

  He spun the horse around and galloped away. Stunned, disbelieving that Iskair had actually left me, I clutched my aching heart and dropped to my knees.

  Moments later, someone knelt beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. I recognized his scent.

  “What happened? Where is he going?” Dylan asked.

  “Away,” I sobbed. “He wants me to go home.”

  Dylan didn’t say anything, and I supposed he didn’t know what to say. That was fine. He couldn’t help. I didn’t realize why he hesitated to speak though.

  “I think you should go home. I guess both of us should.”

  I lifted my head and looked at Dylan, his face close to mine. Beyond him, I saw the men had turned to watch Iskair ride away, murmuring among themselves. John looked at me, shook his head in sympathy and turned back toward the island.

  “I don’t think you understand, Dylan. I love him.”

  “Ah! But I do understand, Debra. I see it in your eyes. Remember, I know you pretty well. I thought I saw that expression on your face when you looked at me once or twice, but I think I must have been wrong.”

  Iskair and his horse had disappeared. I sagged, and Dylan pulled me closer.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

  “Come home with me,” he said. “When the tide goes out, we’ll get the dagger, and we’ll go.”

  I swallowed hard, imagining my future. It seemed vague, shadowy, unclear. I did not see myself returning to an era of comfort and security. If anything, I would be miserably uncomfortable and insecure in the loss of the man I loved.

  Pressed against Dylan’s chest, I raised my face to his. The late afternoon sun turned his pale-blond hair to gold. The white flecks in his blue eyes were familiar. I had always loved looking at them.

  “So you don’t want to stay?” I asked.

  He shook his head and grimaced.

  “Like you, I don’t know what I want. But I don’t really have a choice. If you go, I have to go with you or stay here forever. Ann and Cynthia aren’t going to be traveling through time to send me back. I think you need to go home, and I will go with you.”

  “Until a few hours ago, I had forgotten that you would be stuck here if I didn’t go back with you.”

  “Yes, there is me.”

  “Would you stay if you had a choice to come or go?”

  “Probably,” Dylan said. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “If we can find the dagger. That’s a big if.”

  “I think we will.”

  Dylan laid his forehead against mine for a moment. Out of the corner of my eyes, I looked toward the horizon, to the spot where I had last seen Iskair and his horse.

  He was gone, and any hope I had that he would change his mind and turn back diminished with every passing minute.

  Dylan straightened and pulled me to my feet. I searched for Iskair once again before turning back to face the island.

  “The tide is going out,” Dylan said.

  No expert on tides, I trusted his judgment. “Thank goodness we have the bridge now...then...in the future.”

  “Aye, that was a lifesaver.”

  I saw that Ann and Cynthia had seated themselves on the turf near the gate as if they weren’t leaving until the men could cross over. Sarah and Archibald played nearby. The babies were nowhere to be seen, but neither were Catherine or Mrs. Glick. I presumed they were safely tucked away in someone’s croft.

  John, Torq, Andrew and the rest of the men also sat, watching and waiting. It was a heartbreaking sight, but not the worst heartbreak I’d known that day.

  I lowered myself to the ground, pulled my knees to my chin and watched the waves crash against the rocks, dejected and depressed. Dylan didn’t sit but stood next to me, presumably staring at Dun Eistean as well. Eventually, I closed my eyes and laid my head on my knees, though I didn’t sleep. I think Dylan eventually sat down near me, but I didn’t look up.

  An hour passed, and a commotion nearby made me raise my head. Twilight had settled on the Isle of Lewis. The men stood, one by one, a hum of Gaelic voices drifting on the wind. I looked toward Dun Eistean. The tide had receded. Dylan rose.

  “It’s clear,” he said. He held out a hand and helped me up. I looked over the edge of the cliff to see that the waves barely lapped at the divide. John was already descending the path leading to the beach floor, Torq right behind him.

  “We’ll never find the dagger tonight,” he said. “It will be completely dark in an hour.”

  I looked over my shoulder. No Iskair. I would have given anything to see a man astride a horse in the distance, coming toward us. But he had not changed his mind.

  “If we’re going, I’d rather go now. We’ve never even spent the night on Dun Eistean. Can you believe that? Where would we sleep?”

  I sounded whiney. I felt whiney. Worse.

  “I’m sure we can stay with someone.”

  Dylan pulled my arm to follow the men down the path. Across the way, the women had risen, Ann and Cynthia making their way down to meet their husbands. I resisted Dylan’s tug.

  “I just need a few minutes,” I whispered. “Go on without me.”

  “Debra, I am not about to leave you here alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. Everyone who could hurt me is dead or imprisoned, right?”

  “Yes, I suppose you are right. It will be dark soon.”

  “I’m coming. I just—” I stopped when I saw John and Torq racing across the rocky beach between the c
liffs. Ann and Cynthia had reached the bottom. The reunion between the couples tore at my heart. I couldn’t bear to watch, and I couldn’t look away.

  “Okay, come soon though,” Dylan said, moving away.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him begin down the path, but most of my attention was on my fellow female time travelers and the men who loved them. For a brief foolish moment, I imagined a scenario where I asked John and Torq to speak to Iskair about me—if they could find him. There was an old saying though...if you love something, set it free, et cetera, et cetera.

  Either Iskair had loved me enough to set me free, or I loved him enough to let him go. I suspected the former was truer. I had humiliated myself by refusing to let him go. His horse had made the decision for me.

  I turned to look over my shoulder one more time. Nothing. I saw nothing but a barren windswept landscape falling into darkness. It took every ounce of willpower I had to force me to walk to the edge of the cliff and descend the path. A quick look at the beach floor showed that the happy couples were headed back up the opposite path to the tidal stack, hand in hand. Had it been only a few days before that Iskair had followed me down that same path?

  “I was hoping you would get here before the tide returned,” Dylan said.

  I looked up from watching my footing to see that he waited for me on the rocky beach at the bottom of the path.

  “It doesn’t come back in that fast, does it?” I asked without particular interest.

  “No, it doesn’t. I thought I would wait down here for you, and look what I found embedded in the mud. The tide must have carried it around the corner and dropped it here.”

  Dylan held something in his hand, something that in the growing darkness didn’t gleam. I recognized the shape. I reached for it, and he pulled his hand away, hiding it behind his back.

  “No! We can’t just go back without saying goodbye. Imagine what that would do to them. They wouldn’t know what happened to us. They could never truly know.”

  I clasped my hands behind my back. “I know. You’re right. I don’t know why I reached for it. I just want the pain to stop.”

  Dylan clucked in sympathy. He held the dagger in one hand and took my hand in the other. My heart pounded at its close proximity. I didn’t know whether to go or stay, whether to give up or fight for the man I loved.