Maybe that was a good place to be for now.
There was no telling how long they rode before his horse slowed and the forest fell silent around them. Minutes, hours, days? Everything felt disjointed. Even—no big surprise—her eyesight. Unless Leslie and Bradon were having a good laugh at her expense and staging some sort of reenactment, she knew she wasn’t in New Hampshire anymore. Could not possibly be. But had she really traveled back in time as it was promised she might? Hell and damnation, no. This had to be a nightmare…right?
“Is the horse I was riding okay?” she rasped.
“The horse is safe. You will soon be reunited.”
Lost, trying to make sense of things, she barely processed that they had stopped until Logan swung down and pulled Cassie off the horse. She tried to urge him to put her down, but nothing seemed to be working quite right, especially her vocal chords.
“All is well, lass,” he murmured. His deep words rumbled like a freight train through her body, the roll of his r’s soothing when he said, “‘Tis a thing you’ve been through. Rest, ‘twill be all right.”
Though her vision blurred, she could make out the stubble on his strong jaw and the width of his broad shoulders. She felt the heat of his body and smelled the tempting muskiness of his skin. A masculine scent mixed with sinful spices. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and rested her head against his hard chest.
Again it might have been moments or hours before she felt cool water against her lips, cheeks, forehead, and neck. Both relieved and alarmed, her eyes shot open. This time her vision wasn’t blurry but crisp. The lethargy she felt earlier seemed to have vanished and she was very much aware of what was going on around her.
The leaves overhead were no longer bursting with autumn colors but green and mixed with far more pine trees. For a split second, Cassie almost thought she was back in Maine until her eyes locked with his.
Their eyes held—more like hers drowned—as she gazed into what she initially thought were simply pale blue eyes. Sure they were gorgeous, you-want-to-study-them-for-hours blue, but more. Seen up close with sunlight shining down, it was clear that tiny golden flecks not only swam in them but formed a thin layer around the blue.
Mystical eyes.
Eyes that already owned her until he spoke and sent her into sheer panic.
“Ceud mìle fàilte. Welcome…” His hand lingered on her cheek. “To medieval Scotland.”
Chapter Three
Cowal, Scotland
1281
“M-MEDIEVAL SCOTLAND?” CASSIE pushed past her lips, surprised she was able to say as much. The man just about had her tongue tied he was so handsome. If handsome was the right word for it. More like super-gorgeous, I can’t believe I’m sitting on his lap good looking. One eye-roll down his muscled, slightly scarred chest had her nerves raw with unexpected desire.
He tilted up her chin until her adventurous eyes had no choice but to connect with his. “Aye, medieval Scotland. A place exactly seven hundred and thirty-four years in your past.” His thumb made a slow sweep over her chin as if to comfort. “Do you ken, lass?”
Not, “Are you serious?” or “You’re outta your mind!” popped from her mouth but, “Shouldn’t you say ‘ye’ not ‘you’?”
His lips twitched in what she guessed was repressed amusement. “‘Tis a way we MacLomains sometimes speak when with our futuristic Brouns. A way to make it a wee bit easier to follow.”
“Your Brouns,” she whispered. Stop gawking, she preached to herself but was pretty sure she was doing just that. Was she scared witless that he was right and she had traveled back in time? God, yeah. But something about sitting on his lap with his blue-eyed gaze on her made everything seem all right.
His eyes softened as they roamed her face. Seconds later he clenched his jaw as if upset with himself and sat up straighter. He didn’t set her aside, but she sensed that was out of obligation to her welfare more than anything else.
“Aye, our Brouns,” he said. “Did Leslie not tell you of all you might expect here?”
“Um…” Hell, Cassie, untwist your tongue and sound halfway intelligent. “She did.” More words needed. Keep talking because you definitely need answers. Move past the distraction of sitting on his hot-ass lap. “Leslie explained as much as she could, but there’s still a lot hanging.”
She sputtered the word ‘hanging’ because there was certainly something hanging between his legs based on his…
As if he sensed her thoughts and was disgruntled by them, Logan swiftly lifted Cassie to her feet. Though he didn’t let her go, he certainly put some distance between them. “Are you well enough to stand without assistance, lass?”
Confused, she nodded. The pressure of his hands lessened a fraction, as though he didn’t quite believe her. After he eyed her with concern for another moment, he moved away. Unexpected coolness flooded around her that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air.
“I wet your cheeks,” he murmured, crouching in front of a stream. “But you should do so again, aye?”
Cassie put a hand to her cheek. Of course, he had dampened her face. Less interested in wetting her cheeks but definitely thirsty, she crouched and scooped some water into her mouth as he splashed some over his head.
“I’m Cassandra, by the way,” she murmured. "But everyone calls me Cassie."
“I know.” He nodded. “I’m Logan.”
“I know.”
They stared at one another for a long moment before he resumed splashing water over himself.
“How do you know my name?” she finally asked.
“Your horse, Athdara told me.”
“My horse?” She shook her head. “No, she’s not mine…and she told you my name?”
“Aye.” He cocked a brow. “Did Leslie not tell you I'm a wizard?”
“Ah, right, that,” Cassie trailed off as she stared at the water. “Gotta say, the concept’s a lot to swallow. Just like the fact that you’re supposedly from the twenty-first century.”
Logan nodded and stood, holding out a hand to help her stand. “Aye, ‘twould be but ‘tis the truth. I was born and raised in New Hampshire for three winters.”
When she stood, her breath caught as she looked up and up at him. He was as tall as Darach and Bradon. And oh let the mighty Lord keep her on her feet, he was built like Legolas from Lord of the Rings but buffer. Yes, she and Nicole were movie junkies but still, it provided for good comparisons.
“Who is Legolas?”
Oh, darn, had she said that thought out loud? A little sheepish, she replied. “Just a fictional character. Well, an actor based on a fictional character from a book.” She watched him, gauging just how insane he thought her. “He was an elf that could shoot arrows like they were going out of style.” She made a gesture toward the woods and skirted around the truth. “I saw a glimpse of what you could do with a bow and arrow earlier. Pretty impressive.”
His expression grew dark as they walked toward his horse. “Are you comparing me to an elf?”
Cassie flinched. “No…not really.”
He arched a brow.
She offered a weak shrug and a forgive-me face. “I guess a little bit, but in a good way.” Then she rambled as she had a tendency to do when nervous. “I mean look at you. You were fighting with a bow and arrow and still came off as masculine.”
Oh, shoot, that didn’t come out right at all.
He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at her.
“What I mean is that Legolas was hot in his elfish way just like you’re hot in your…wizardly Scottish…way," she rambled like a damn fool.
Logan’s brows and lips were lowered now.
Detour time. Fast. Regrettably, her words were a weak squeak as she peered up at him. “Thank you for saving me?”
A little smirk crawled onto his face. “‘Twas my pleasure, lass.”
“So, no hard feelings over the elf thing?”
Logan swung onto his horse, held out his hand and w
inked. “‘Tis no hardship to be compared to an elf. They are a noble creature.”
Like they really existed? But she wasn’t above leaving good enough alone. Sort of. As he swung her up, she said, “Then why let me get all anxious about comparing you to one?”
He turned his steed into the forest. “Honestly?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Yeah, honestly.”
His eyes held hers, something indefinable flickering in them. “‘Tis amusing to watch you get flustered.”
“Is it?” She turned forward, not miffed in the least but using it as an excuse to keep her eyes off of his sumptuous lips.
“Might I ask you something?” he said a few moments later as they made their way through the forest.
“Sure, I guess.” She tried to ignore the feeling of his strong body at her back and joked, “I’m at your mercy after all.”
“My mercy?” There was an edge of humor to his voice. “Nay, lass. You are at no one’s mercy so long as you’re with the MacLomain clan.” Before she could respond, he continued. “My question is, do you often compare those you just met to characters in a book or movie?”
Cassie chuckled. “Sorry, bad habit of mine. My friends and I sort of formed a movie/song/book club as a way to help us bond over the years and we tend to compare things to them on occasion. Or people in this case."
What she would not tell him was that they had a very specific reason for doing so. One that would hopefully help each of them cope with what lay ahead. Because they were all facing something pretty big. In Cassie’s case, it was looming blindness.
Logan remained quiet for a few minutes and she got the impression that he was mulling over what she had said. That he was the sort of guy who thought things through before speaking.
“I'm not as in touch with the twenty-first century lately as I should be, but I remember Disney…and Handy Manny from my childhood,” he finally said.
Warmth curled around her heart. Was he trying to lessen her tension or was he sincerely just touching base with his youth? She quirked a lip at him over her shoulder. “Really? What was your favorite Disney movie? And did you learn any Spanish from Handy?”
“I liked How to Train Your Dragon and Frozen wasnae so bad.” He shrugged. “Good movie about women defending women.”
“Sisters," she said. "And How to Train Your Dragon was by DreamWorks, not Disney...not that it really matters."
Seriously, Cassie. He's a medieval Scotsman, not a movie connoisseur. She figured she would leave his lack of response about Handy alone.
"Speaking of sisters.” His eyes met hers. “Do you have one? Or a brother?”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “So weird to think you were only two when Frozen came out in 2013.” She turned back to the forest. “Most kids don’t remember being that young.”
“Most kids aren’t wizards,” he said.
“Right.” Too curious, she asked, “Do you have a brother or sister?”
“Nay, I am the only bairn born to my parents.”
She thought he sounded a little bummed so asked, “Is that a good thing?”
“‘Tis not a bad thing.” He paused. “But I would have liked a brother or sister.” Before she could feel too bad for him, he said, “Yet I have my kin and they are verra much my family.”
“So you’re happy?”
“Aye, happy enough.”
Feeling safe and remarkably comfortable with him considering how little they knew about one another, she again looked over her shoulder. “Just happy enough?”
As if they hadn’t just met, he answered candidly. “Verra happy with my kin but eager to take a wif and have some wee bairns.”
“Wif?”
“Bride?
“Ah. Wife." She turned her focus ahead. “No luck with that yet, eh?” And because she couldn’t leave good enough alone. “I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
Oh jeez. Because you’re hot as hell. But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she firmly inserted her foot in her blasted mouth. “Well, you’re not getting any younger, right?”
A little rumble came from Logan’s chest, but he didn’t quite chuckle. Then he went still and she felt his upcoming response almost like she could feel the wind move a building when nobody else could.
“Nay, I’m not getting any younger. But it matters naught because I am pledged for betrothal.”
His words weren’t just a breeze against the walls of a rhetorical building but more like a gale force wind against the cardboard walls of…what? Not her heart. Definitely not that. Way, way, too soon. No, something different but noticeable and cringe-worthy. “Nice.”
Nice? The word hung between them like a chilled Jello mold left unattended under a hot sun. Not pretty.
“We were pledged to one another at birth,” he finally continued. “But have yet to meet.”
“Oh,” she murmured, feeling a little sorry for him. “So an arranged marriage?”
“Aye, to strengthen our clans.” He surprised her with his next question. “What of you, lass? Are you betrothed or pledged to be?”
“Definitely not.” She shook her head. “Way too young for that level of commitment.”
Again, Logan waited several long moments before he murmured, “I see you wear a Claddagh ring. Did you put it on or did it appear on your finger?”
Shivers rippled over her. Odd question. Then again, there was that whole wizard thing. She debated telling him the truth because she didn’t want to sound insane. “It appeared there…or I did it in my sleep. Not sure.”
“So you saw the ring prior to sleeping?”
“Yeah, Leslie had them in a box by the bed,” she said. “Three of them.”
She could hear the frown in his voice. “And how many of these Broun friends do you have?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Lots of questions.”
His disgruntled eyes met hers. “‘Tis important.”
“Why?” Uncomfortable, she looked at the ring. “What’s the story with these?”
The pines were thinning but still spread far and wide as streaks of sunlight cut through the forest. “There have been several Claddagh rings over the years. The ones from my generation, often referred to as the Next Generation, helped Brouns travel through time. They also warm when their true love is near.” He cleared his throat. “Then there are the original Claddagh rings, those created when a couple came together beneath an oak. Overseen by the god Fionn Mac Cumhail, they each had a gem at their center. The gem matched the wizard’s eyes that the Broun lass was meant for. It glowed. That ring you wear is one of the originals.”
Cassie grew tenser as he spoke. “So these Claddagh rings... bring love together?”
“Aye, always. A MacLomain and a Broun,” he murmured. “It can be no other way.”
Holy heck. About the last thing she was looking for was romance. Best to steer clear of that for now. “Leslie told me one of the rings was supposedly worn by a druidess.”
“Aye, ‘tis a part of the tale not often shared,” he said. “I’m surprised to know it actually exists.”
Cassie kept eying her ring nervously and whispered, “Is it this one?”
“I dinnae ken,” he said softly. “I only know that what you wear is one of the originals.”
“But it’s just a clear stone.” She peeked over her shoulder at him. “Not a gem at all and certainly not something that would match an eye color.”
Especially not yours.
Now she needed to get that thought out of her head immediately. He was taken. Even if he wasn’t, this was medieval Scotland! And she wasn’t on the market for a guy. If anything, her next focus was preparing for a new lifestyle…in the twenty-first century of course.
“‘Twas once a gem.” His eyes fell to hers. “My guess is that ‘twill once more become a gem when it finds your true love.”
She tore her eyes from his, far too aware of his proximity. “I like to think I’m my own true love. Best to dep
end on myself. I don’t need a man.”
Yet even as she said the words she sometimes wondered how much she really believed them. Still, they sounded confident and that's what she was going for.
“‘Tis good that you love yourself, lass. ‘Tis an admirable quality.” His voice lowered. “But because you wear that ring there is room in your heart for another. And the ring will find him for you.”
Though tempted to see the expression on his face, she was feeling a little too aware that he had been the first Scotsman to interact with her here. Not to mention he was the first one she saw when she pulled into Leslie and Bradon’s driveway. Then there was that whole thing about his eyes glowing in the picture. But she wasn’t about to share any of that right now, if at all. Even if he weren't engaged, she would not want him to know.
She was about to respond when another horse trotted through the woods and came alongside. It was the Scotsman who had ridden on her left-hand side when the grungy warrior had her. With dark features, she thought him striking in an intense, masculine sort of way. His muscles were slightly bulkier than Logan’s, but she suspected their towering frames were similar. While at first she thought his eyes were nearly black she realized they were an unusual shade of dark blue.
“All the bloody bastards have been killed, my Laird,” he grunted, his eyes on her though he clearly spoke to Logan. “Some were taken prisoner. ‘Twill be good to have at them later, aye?”
Logan was the laird? Well, didn’t that just take the cake.
The men leaned over and clasped hands briefly before Logan made introductions. “Cassie, this is Niall, son to Malcolm MacLomain and his Broun from the future, Cadence.”
“‘Tis good to meet you, Cassie.” Niall nodded. “Welcome.”
Ah, Cadence, Leslie's sister. It was so strange meeting medieval Scotsmen with mothers from the future. She nodded as well. “Nice to meet you too, Niall."
She didn’t miss the way Niall’s eyes flickered over her ring with interest.
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 249