by Katy Baker
Dreams of a Highlander
Katy Baker
Published by Katy Baker, 2016.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
DREAMS OF A HIGHLANDER
First edition. August 30, 2016.
Copyright © 2016 Katy Baker.
Written by Katy Baker.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Also By Katy Baker
Chapter 1
"Careful, Doctor, he bites," said Mrs Wright.
The warning came too late. Fluffy, her huge Persian cat, yowled and sunk his teeth into Darcy's hand. Darcy bit her lip, determined not to curse in front of a client. Even though she wore a reinforced glove made for this very purpose, Fluffy had managed to find its weak spot - the stitching around the wrist. He twisted in her grip and swiped with a front paw, claws extended.
"Stop that!" Darcy said in a commanding voice. "If you don't behave, I'll have to sedate you."
This time Fluffy had eaten a ping-pong ball belonging to one of Mrs Wright's grandchildren. Last month it was a dish cloth. The time before that, a pair of shoelaces.
"I can't feel any large masses," Darcy said. "Which suggests he chewed it up pretty thoroughly before he swallowed it. He should be fine but if he shows signs of pain, bring him back."
She released Fluffy who leapt into his owner's arms and fixed Darcy with a hateful stare.
"That's a relief," said Mrs Wright. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. Sorry about your hand."
Darcy smiled, pulling off the gloves. "All part of the service. Glad I could help."
It was late. The clock on the consultation room wall read 8.05pm. Darcy should have finished work three hours ago but the practice had been inundated with emergencies and Darcy stayed to help out.
She escorted Mrs Wright to the door then flopped onto her chair, stretching her hands over her head and yawning.
There was a knock on the door. Gretchen Matthews, Darcy's best friend, stuck her head around it. "Has the devil cat gone? Is it safe to come in?"
Gretchen was bubbly, blonde and easy-going. In many ways she and Darcy were polar opposites but they'd been best friends ever since they'd met at veterinary college.
"It's safe," Darcy laughed, waving for her friend to come in. "Hopefully he might learn his lesson."
Gretchen rolled her eyes at that. "Chance would be a fine thing. That cat has a death-wish. The emergencies have all been dealt with. How about we go for a drink? It's been a hell of a day."
That sounded good. "Sure," Darcy said, rising. "Let's make a run for it before anything else happens."
They knocked off and made their way to the nearest bar - a place Gretchen and the others often visited although Darcy rarely joined them. They got themselves a couple of drinks and slumped onto a leather sofa by the window.
"So," Gretchen said around a mouthful of peanuts. "You sorted it yet?"
Darcy groaned. She should have known this question was coming. She knew exactly what Gretchen was talking about. "Not yet," she replied. "I've been too busy."
Gretchen rolled her eyes. "Too busy? That's always your excuse!"
"It's true," Darcy said. "When do I have time for romance? I'm in early clinic for the rest of the week, I'm doing a guest lecture at the University on Friday- which I haven't even begun to prep for - and I'm off to that conference in Edinburgh next week!"
Gretchen pursed her lips and frowned at Darcy in a way that suggested she didn't buy any of her friend’s excuses. Okay, so it was true that Darcy had volunteered for all the things she'd just listed. She was dedicated to her job, what was wrong with that?
"Fine," Gretchen said. "Then how about letting me give you a helping hand? Have you even checked your responses yet?"
"Um no," Darcy replied. "I haven't quite got round to it."
"You're hopeless, you know that?" Gretchen grabbed Darcy's cell phone from where it rested on the table.
"What are you doing?"
"What I said. Giving you a helping hand."
Gretchen tapped a few buttons on the cell. She got up the dating website that she’d enrolled Darcy on and was busy logging into her profile. Darcy cringed as a cheesy photo of herself popped up. She thought it made her look goofy but Gretchen assured her that the big wide smile, combined with her olive skin and long dark hair would have men falling over themselves to message her.
"Let's see," Gretchen said. She began scrolling through the messages. "How about this guy? He's cute."
Darcy examined the picture. "No, I don't think so. It says he likes clubbing. Hardly my scene is it?"
Gretchen frowned. "Okay. How about this one then? He's an animal lover and likes cozy nights in."
"And lives upstate," Darcy said. "I don't want to drive miles to meet a guy."
"Darcy, you're gonna have to take some chances," Gretchen said, her tone exasperated. "There's more to life than work. You're too serious. You need to have a little fun!"
Darcy said nothing. Perhaps Gretchen was right. Perhaps that was why Darcy never had any luck with men. She wasn't interested in relationships that rested on superficial things. When she found the right man, she wanted him to be the only one. The one that she would share her life with. So she'd always taken her relationships seriously, but they had never done the same.
She waved a hand at Gretchen. "Sure. Whatever you say. As soon as I get back from the conference, I'll get on it."
With a sigh Gretchen put Darcy's cell back on the table. "Running away again, eh?"
Darcy straightened. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh come, on," Gretchen said. "It's what you always do. Do you remember when we were at college and Jimmy was going to ask you to move in with him? You suddenly had an aunt who took sick and needed nursing."
"That was true! And things hadn't been right between me and Jimmy for ages anyway!"
"And what about when you caught Ryan with that girl from the student bar? You took off for days."
"Can you blame me?" Darcy said. "It was horrible walking in on them like that. It was either get the hell out of there or slap them both! I didn't fancy getting arrested for assault!"
Gretchen held up her hands. "I know, honey. I know. It's just that now you're off to Edinburgh, seems to me you're running again."
Darcy folded her arms. "It's a conference that's been booked for months."
"Okay," Gretchen sighed. "Okay. Just promise me one thing will you? While you're over there how about you take some time off? See a bit of the country? Relax a little."
Darcy opened her mouth for a retort. She hadn't come here to be lectured by her friend, she'd come to relax after a hard day. But one look at the concern shining in Gretchen's eyes made her hesitate. Was Gretchen right? Did she work too hard? Did she always run away when things got tough? Her parents had died just before she started college and since then she'd felt...adrift. Like she didn't belong anywhere. Was that what she was searching for? A place to belong?
Darcy sighed. "Okay, you win. I'll take some time off. I'll have a vacation whilst
I'm over in Scotland. I promise to come back all relaxed. Happy?"
"Great," said Gretchen, grinning. "Now, how about another drink?"
***
Darcy stepped down from the lectern. The cavernous hall echoed with applause. Her legs were wobbly as she walked down the steps and onto the stage but she was also filled with a sense of euphoria. She'd done it! Her guest lecture on equine dentistry had gone better than she'd dared hope.
Before stepping up onto the lectern she'd been so nervous she thought she might throw up. Before her on the schedule had been professors and highly regarded specialists who she'd idolized during her time in college. And here she was, just a couple of years out of veterinary school, rubbing shoulders with them.
She blew out a breath and stepped through the curtain at the back of the stage and leaned against the wall, trying to still her thumping heart and steady her weak knees.
She'd been in Scotland for three days now. She loved Edinburgh. The architecture, the landscape, the people. Even though she was technically here on business, she found herself relaxing.
Gretchen was right, she thought. I really do need a break.
The conference finished that afternoon but Darcy hadn't booked her flight home for another week. She was going to take her friend's advice and see a little of the country before she went home.
She pushed herself away from the wall and made her way through to the refreshments area. The plush bar was all but empty as most delegates were still in the main hall waiting for the next speaker.
Darcy hopped up onto a stool by the bar and ordered herself a lemonade. She gazed out of the window as she sipped it. Edinburgh's skyline met her gaze and beyond rose the imposing edifice of King Arthur's Seat.
"That was a most interesting talk."
Darcy turned to find a woman sitting on the stool next to hers. Darcy hadn't heard her approach. The woman looked to be in her seventies. She wore a sharp business suit with a deer-shaped brooch pinned to a lapel. Her gray hair was gathered in a bun at the back of her head.
"Thanks," said Darcy. "Although equine dentistry isn't the most interesting of topics. I'm surprised any of the delegates are still awake."
"Och!" the woman said, waving a hand. "Ye do yerself a disservice. Ye have an engaging way about ye, Darcy Greenway."
"How did you know my name?"
"Well, ye did introduce yerself at the start of yer talk. And yer name is on the schedule. Bit of a giveaway don't ye think?"
"Oh, of course," Darcy stammered, feeling a little stupid. "And you are?"
"Irene. Irene MacAskill."
"Pleased to meet you." Darcy held her hand out to the woman who shook it. "What brings you to the conference? Do you specialize in any particular area?"
"Me? Och, no. I'm here in another capacity."
"Oh? And what's that?"
A mischievous smile played across Irene MacAskill’s face but she didn't answer Darcy's question. "How are ye finding my bonny homeland?"
"It's wonderful," Darcy said. "Although I've not seen much so far. I'm planning on rectifying that though."
Irene cocked her head and regarded Darcy with an unblinking gaze. Darcy found her scrutiny a little uncomfortable.
"Um, are you local to Edinburgh?" Darcy asked.
"Nae, lass."
"Oh. Have you traveled a long way then?"
Irene waved a hand. "Ye could say that. I'm from here and there and nowhere. I come and go as I need to when I'm about my business."
Darcy nodded. She was finding talking to Irene a little strange. She finished her lemonade and placed the empty glass on the bar. "Well, it was nice to meet you. If you'll excuse me-"
Irene's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "If ye want to see more of my bonny land, I'll give ye some advice." She placed a small pocket book on the bar. On it was written, A guide to lochs of the Highlands. “I’ve marked in there the path I think ye should take."
Darcy looked at the old woman. Irene stared back, unblinking. "I haven't decided where I'm going yet," she said. "I was going to go to the tourist information office."
"Ye'd do well to take my advice, lass."
Darcy swallowed. "And why's that?"
"Because if ye do, ye might just find yer heart's desire. But ye'll have a difficult choice to make. Nothing good ever comes easy. Remember what I've told ye."
With that Irene released her and hopped down from her stool and left. Darcy watched her go, feeling a little unsettled. The guidebook still sat on the bar. Darcy stood and took a few paces before hesitating. She looked back. Then, on impulse she grabbed the guidebook the old woman had left for her.
She wasn't sure why she did it. The woman hadn’t made much sense. And yet...there was something in the way she'd looked at Darcy, as though she could see right into her soul.
Don't be stupid, Darcy said to herself. She was just an eccentric old woman. She doesn't know you. She doesn't know anything about you.
Yet as Darcy made her way back into the main hall to listen to the next speaker, she was careful to tuck Irene's guidebook safely into her pocket.
Chapter 2
Quinn MacFarlane crouched on the trail to examine the object that had caught his eye. It was a roasted chicken bone, obviously discarded by the people he was following. The brigands were careless to leave such an obvious clue to their trail.
Careless or overconfident.
Quinn straightened and looked around. The empty wilds of the Highlands surrounded him. In the distance white-capped mountains rose. A village nestled at the base of one of those mountains and Quinn spotted smoke rising from chimneys but it was many miles distant and in the opposite direction to the one his quarry had taken.
The brigands he was tracking had been raiding MacFarlane lands for months now. With each attack they got bolder. Quinn frowned. Their overconfidence would be their downfall. Quinn would find them, he would discover where they were based, and clan MacFarlane would defeat them once and for all.
It was getting late. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains, sending red streamers of light across the landscape. Quinn hesitated. He ought to return home and report what he'd seen but that meant risking losing the trail. Quinn couldn't do that. He had a duty to his clan, his people.
He took the reins of his large black warhorse, Silver, and led him to a rocky outcrop. The base of the outcrop formed a sheltered dell where he could build a campfire away from prying eyes.
Like any good warrior, Quinn saw to his horse first. He rubbed Silver down then gave him food and water before building a small campfire and laying his blankets by the side. He unbuckled his sword and placed it on the ground close to him where he could grab it quickly if needs be.
He began roasting the grouse he’d caught earlier and sat back, resting against the rocks which were warm from the heat of the day.
Suddenly Silver raised his head and whinnied. A shape moved beyond the edge of the firelight. Quinn was on his feet in an instant, sword held in both hands.
"Who goes there?" he demanded. "Reveal yerself!"
To his surprise, a woman stepped into the light. She was old enough to be Quinn's grandmother and had gray hair caught in a bun at the back of her head. He didn't recognize the colors in the plaid she wore which meant he couldn't name her clan.
She stepped closer and then stopped with hands clasped in front of her, watching him with a sharp gaze. On her shoulder, Quinn noticed, her plaid was held with a brooch shaped like a red deer.
Quinn looked around carefully for her companions but the woman appeared to be alone. "Good evening. How can I help ye?" he asked. "Are ye out here alone?"
The woman nodded. "I am at that, laddie. Seems I wandered far from where I was supposed to be." She cocked her head and a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Or maybe it's the other way around and I'm exactly where I was supposed to be, eh?"
"If yer on yer way to Glenhowe, yer a fair way from yer path," Quinn said, naming the settlement at the base of the m
ountains. "Ye'll not make it tonight, that's for sure."
"No, I fear ye may be right," the woman said, smiling.
Quinn frowned. The old woman seemed a little confused. Why was she wandering out here alone at night? It wasn't safe. Didn't she realize that? And where were her kinfolk? They shouldn't let her go wandering.
Quinn sheathed his sword and gestured to the fire. "It isnae much but yer welcome to share my fire and my food."
The old woman broke into a beaming smile. It made her look much younger. "Ah, yer a good one, laddie. I think I chose well in ye."
Quinn wasn't sure what to make of that last statement. He grabbed one of his blankets and laid it out for her on the other side of the fire. She lowered herself gingerly then held her hands out to the flames.
"Och, but that's good. My old bones do ache so these days."
Quinn seated himself and watched the woman from across the fire. "I'm Quinn MacFarlane," he said. "Pleased to make yer acquaintance."
"Oh, I know who ye are, lad."
"Ye do?" Quinn frowned. "I've never met ye before, I'm sure. Who are ye?"
"My name's Irene," the woman replied. "Irene MacAskill."
Quinn froze. He'd heard the name before. Rumors of this woman stalked the Highlands like ghosts. It was said that when she appeared, mischief usually followed.
Irene laughed lightly. "Ah, I can see from ye face that ye recognize my name! Dinna worry lad, I'm not going to turn ye into a toad or suchlike! The tales about me are greatly exaggerated!"
Quinn didn't know what to say to that. He busied himself with taking the grouse from the spit and dividing it into two portions. One portion he passed to Irene. She took it and began stuffing pieces into her mouth greedily.
"My, my, this is good. I do declare ye may be one of the best cooks in the MacFarlane clan!"
Quinn didn't answer. He watched Irene while he ate. "Why are ye out here?" he asked.
She held up a finger. "I might ask the same of ye, laddie. I'm here for the same reason as ye. I'm looking for something. Or I was, anyway. Seems I've found it. Question is, what are ye looking for?"