Adam's Call (The Victorian Highlanders Book 3)

by Ellie St. Clair

  “It’s the middle of the day!” she exclaimed, but began laughing at him. This behavior was rather unlike him, and she couldn’t help but be pleased by the dimples brought out in his cheeks.

  “Leave your shift on,” he said. “The water is fine. I’ll make sure Nessie doesna eat you. I’ll tell her yer one of us now. Don’t be scared, love.”

  Feeling somewhat ridiculous, she nevertheless lifted her dress over her head, leaving it on a large rock beside the water before removing her shoes. She tentatively waded in and then let herself fall into his arms. As his strong arms came around her, she felt his powerful legs kick to keep them afloat.

  “Well now, I think I’m going to have to come up with something to help you swim,” he said, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Perhaps something that would keep you afloat. Hmmm…”

  She saw his thoughts start to wander onto whatever invention he was drawing up in his head, and she laughed, looking around her in wonder. This land had drawn her, and here she had found a home, not only in her surroundings, but in the man who held her.

  “I love you, Adam McDougall,” she said, bringing him out of his thoughts and his attention back to her.

  “And I you, my little English wife,” he said, capturing her lips with his, and she knew she would never, ever be alone again.

  THE END

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  Afterword

  I have borrowed from history in this novel when it comes to the wind turbine. The first use of a wind-powered machine to generate electricity was, in fact, by a Scotsman, Professor James Blyth, in July of 1887, used to light his home in Maykirk, Scotland. He received a UK patent in 1891. However, most people credit the first use of a wind-powered machine to generate electricity to an American, Charles Brush, although his operated for the first time during the winter of 1887.

  Roderick’s Purpose

  Preview Roderick and Gwen’s story, book 4 of The Victorian Highlanders…

  A sneak peek…

  1886 - Qu'Appelle, Northwest Territory

  “Stop, right there!”

  Gwendolyn Malone did no such thing. No, to stop would be utter foolishness and would mean the demise of herself and her father. Instead, she churned her legs even faster, willing herself to keep up the torrid pace until she reached her horse, who was standing at attention, waiting for her at the end of the town’s dusty street.

  Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she reached the horse and without breaking stride jumped and hauled herself on his back. She was thankful she had the foresight to remove her skirt in favor of the pair of trousers underneath, and to gather her long hair under her hat while she was inside.

  “Hi-ya!” she shouted, and the horse, well trained for such a circumstance, took off at a gallop, the brown dirt of the road flying up behind them. Her heart pounded, and a sense of elation rose within her. She had gotten away with it! Alone, without her father or his men to help, she had what she came for — and, she thought with a bit of satisfaction and relief, no one had been hurt in the process, unlike a typical Doc Malone robbery.

  Her exhilaration quickly faded, however, when she heard the pounding of hooves behind her. She stole a glance over her shoulder, cursing when she saw the horse closing the distance between them. How was it possible? She had one of the fastest horses in the area, thanks to the light fingers of her father, and she was an expert horsewoman. How could this man possibly best her? She urged her mount even faster, but despite the fact she had tracked the getaway path earlier, she wasn’t completely certain of which way she was going, nor did the horse appear to know. Perhaps this man knew the path better. Perhaps his horse was equally as fast. Perhaps — no, not possible. He could not be better on a horse than she was. She had never met a man who was.

  Yet, he was keeping up with her. She risked taking a quick left turn when the path forked, though she had no idea where it led. She hoped he would be thrown off by her abrupt change in direction, but when she looked back, he was still with her, though she had gained a bit of ground. She caught a glimpse of him and realized it was the man who had been sitting on the bench. Blast it all! He must have been in wait, she thought, shocked at herself and her inability to see the man for who he was. Typically, her instincts were much more reliable. She had been distracted.

  She returned her focus to the path ahead, realizing with a start that there didn’t seem to be anywhere to go — in just a hundred yards or so she would be surrounded by a copse of trees and would have to lead her horse through the woodland. It would be completely fine in normal circumstances, but not when being chased. Tightening the reins slightly, she slowed to find a way out. All the breath suddenly left her as a solid weight slammed into her side with such force she was knocked off her horse and taken to the ground. She grunted when her body hit the dirt, and her assailant tried to catch her hands behind her back, likely to tie her up.

  Gwen strongly resolved to ensure that would never happen, and she quickly rolled out of the man’s grip, clambering to her feet and running back toward her horse. Before she could get very far, however, he grabbed her ankle and dragged her back, and she realized she wouldn’t be able to outrun him. Instead, she remembered everything Doc had taught her and swung with a right hook he would be proud of, connecting with the man’s jaw. His head snapped back, and he bellowed with anger. A sense of satisfaction settled over her despite the pain that radiated through her knuckles and up her arm.

  The man was strong, however, and grabbed onto her right upper arm with such force she couldn’t move it. She brought her left arm up, scratching at his face until he reached out to stop her, letting her go in the process. She scrambled out of his grasp once more, and when he went to reach for her, she brought her knee up, hard, into his groin. As he cried out again, Gwen brought her feet up and onto his shoulder before she used them to propel herself back in a somersault.

  She picked up the bag that had fallen off her shoulder, and slowly crept backward, away from him. She had to get free. Her father’s life depended upon it.

  “Listen,” he said slowly, although she could hear the rising frustration in his voice, that deep, warm voice with the Scottish lilt and charming vibration that she was sure had charmed many a lady. “I willna hurt you if you simply come with me. We’ll return what you stole, you give me the names of who you work with, and you can maybe even go free. All right?”

  She would never agree to his terms, and apparently, he saw it in her face, for he launched himself at her again, coming over top of her, pinning her arms with his hands, his weight on her legs so that she couldn’t move them. Damn it, she thought. She was well and truly trapped.

  Roderick cursed as the man moved underneath him. How had he not seen him enter the building? Had he fallen asleep and let the man get by him? Callum would never let that go, and he wasn’t sure Angus McLaren would forgive him for it either. Would he still have a job? His attention returned to the thief as the man tried to bite his hand. What sort of man bit—

  “Oh dear God,” he said, his mind suddenly processing what — or rather, who — lay underneath him. Big green eyes filled with contempt stared up at him, and he looked down the soft contours of the face, the high cheekbones, the rosy lips overtop teeth that were not quite perfect, but a bit crooked … he swallowed hard, for it was not a man he straddled but a woman. And not just any woman, but the woman he had felt himself so attracted to when she walked up the stairs.

  “Something surprise you?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow, the rest of her face a mask of innocence.

  “Not at all,” he said, pulling her into a sitting position and tying her hands behind her, although with a little less force than he would were she a man. His mind worked furio
usly. She was as strong as she was tall, but now that he took a closer look, he saw the swells of her curves, the delicate lines of her face — and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her. Were she male, that would be an easy decision. He might rough him up some to convince him to not try to escape, then he would put him on the horse — hands tied — and lead them back to the station. But a woman, now, that was something else entirely.

  He realized he was still straddling her lap, and he felt a stirring in his loins. She might be a thief, true, but that didn’t make her any less alluring. He looked up and found her staring at him, and a flare of recognition at his desire came into her wide eyes, which reminded him of the color of the grassy stretches of his Highland hills on a beautiful summer day, and made him unexpectedly long for home.

  She smiled coyly at him. “Yer a Scot, are ye not?” she asked, her Scottish lilt suddenly much more pronounced, nearly as much as his own.

  “Aye,” he said warily.

  “I made a mistake, true,” she said, looking up at him from underneath long lasses. “Do ye think perhaps you could make an exception — let me go, just this once? You can tell whoever yer working for that I escaped. No one would be the wiser.”

  He snorted. “I’m an officer of the North-West Mounted Police. We’ve been looking for you for some time. And I’ll not let any think a woman bested me.”

  “No one needs to know I’m a woman. You nearly didn’t.”

  He shook his head. “Anyone who has seen ye up close would know.”

  There was truth to his words, for despite her build, she was striking. Her nose had a slight curve to it and a bit of a bump, making him think perhaps it had been broken at some point — his cousin Gregor’d had the same happen to him as a child. She had freckles covering her face, clearly from spending a great deal of time in the sun, and her full bottom lip was a rosy pink that drew him. He had never been so attracted to a woman at first sight before — and clearly, she recognized his attraction.

  Strong, lean legs came up around him where he sat in front of her, and she bit that lower lip and looked at him. “What will it take to get you to release me?”

  He pushed back in disgust at how easily she had ascertained his feeling toward her, and stood abruptly, pulling her with him, her hands now firmly tied in front of her.

  “There’s nothing ye can do but come with me,” he said, and she pouted, tilting her head to the side. “Perhaps ye can make a deal with the sergeant if ye give up the rest of your gang.”

  “Never,” she said, her head held high as he led her to her horse.

  “You’ll have to help me up,” she said, holding up her tied hands, and he sighed but did as she asked, cupping his hands together as a step. She put her foot into them, resting her hands on his shoulder, and warmth flooded through him where they touched. She gave a bit of a hop and swung her leg around the horse. He reached to gather the horse’s reins, but as he did so, the woman gave a “hi-ya!” and squeezed her legs around the horse, who shot forward. The leather reins burned his hands as they slid through and dragged behind her.

  “Bloody hell!” he shouted as he ran to his own horse to chase after her.

  Roderick’s Purpose is now available to preorder on Amazon.

  Also by Ellie St. Clair

  Standalone

  Unmasking a Duke

  The Stormswept Stowaway

  Christmastide with His Countess

  Her Christmas Wish

  Happily Ever After

  The Duke She Wished For

  Someday Her Duke Will Come

  Once Upon a Duke’s Dream

  He’s a Duke, But I Love Him

  Loved by the Viscount

  Because the Earl Loved Me

  Happily Ever After Box Set Books 1-3

  Happily Ever After Box Set Books 4-6

  Searching Hearts

  Duke of Christmas

  Quest of Honor

  Clue of Affection

  Hearts of Trust

  Hope of Romance

  Promise of Redemption

  Searching Hearts Box Set (Books 1-5)

  The Unconventional Ladies

  Lady of Mystery

  Lady of Fortune

  Lady of Providence

  Lady of Charade

  Blooming Brides

  A Duke for Daisy

  A Marquess for Marigold

  An Earl for Iris

  A Viscount for Violet

  The Blooming Brides Box Set: Books 1-4

  The Bluestocking Scandals

  Designs on a Duke

  Inventing the Viscount

  Discovering the Baron

  The Valet Experiment

  The Victorian Highlanders

  Callum’s Vow

  Finlay’s Duty

  Adam’s Call

  Roderick’s Purpose

  Coming Soon

  Peggy’s Love

  About the Author

  Ellie has always loved reading, writing, and history. For many years she has written short stories, non-fiction, and has worked on her true love and passion -- romance novels.

  In every era there is the chance for romance, and Ellie enjoys exploring many different time periods, cultures, and geographic locations. No matter when or where, love can always prevail. She has a particular soft spot for the bad boys of history, and loves a strong heroine in her stories.

  She enjoys walks under the stars with her own prince charming, as well as spending time at the lake with her children, and running with her Husky/Border Collie cross.

  www.prairielilypress.com/ellie-st-clair

  ellie@prairielilypress.com