Kaden: A Clean Time Travel Highland Romance (Highland Passages Book 1)

by Annis Reid

  All Anna could do was stare after him, open-mouthed. Horrified. Shaken to her core.

  How was she supposed to prove she was a witch when she was anything but?

  10

  The knock on his door came before the sky had begun to lighten. Kaden was returning from the stream, where he’d bathed upon waking, and found Travis waiting for him to emerge from inside the hut.

  “What happened to ye?” his old friend asked, surprised, upon taking in the sight of Kaden’s dripping hair, the tunic which clung to his wet skin.

  He stammered. “I was… at the stream,” he explained, pointing as if Travis had forgotten where the stream could be found.

  “Did ye fall in, man?” Travis laughed. “What were ye doin’ down there at this time of the morning?”

  How could he explain the sudden importance of bathing? From what the lass told him, people of her time bathed a great deal more than they did in Kaden’s. He’d become aware of how he must look to her—unkempt, filthy—and wished to make himself more pleasing.

  To Travis, this would seem the height of folly. To say nothing of how disturbed the man would be were he to find out Kaden gave weight to the opinion of a witch.

  “There are times when a man must wash himself. Which ye might wish to consider for yourself, man,” Kaden jested, entering the hut. “What brings ye here at this time of day?”

  “He sent for ye.”

  There was no need to question who Travis spoke of. He had been expecting this. “Aye, give me a moment to dress, and I shall be along with ye.”

  “Have ye seen the witch as of late?” Travis asked, his voice hushed as though he feared being overheard by the lass in question.

  “Aye, I have. Have ye?”

  “I hear her hair is turning from one color to another.”

  Kaden busied himself with pulling soft leather boots over his feet, hiding his face from his old friend. “Is it, now?” he choked out, fighting the urge to laugh.

  “Aye. ‘Tis turning nearly white.” Travis ran a finger down the center of his head, where Anna’s hair was indeed turning from raven black to a fair shade.

  He’d asked her about this, having taken note of it himself. “I dye it,” she’d explained, raising a self-conscious hand. “Does it look awful? I bet it looks awful.”

  “Why do ye do this?” he’d asked, fascinated. It seemed there was no end to the ways in which she fascinated him.

  She’d shrugged, picking at a crust of bread. “It’s part of my image. The hard rocker chick. I always thought I needed something more striking than blonde. Stage lighting washes it out, makes it look white. It’s not a good look for me.”

  He’d not understood that. There was so much beyond his ken. Yet he’d made sense of the notion that she used a tonic of sorts to change her hair’s color. There was nothing of witchcraft about it. Not in her time.

  “Perhaps she is ill,” Kaden suggested then, as he and Travis walked up the path to the MacGregor’s home. The man hardly came up to Kaden’s shoulder, yet he was as fierce a fighter as any of the rest. A lifetime of being underestimated had left him with the desire to prove himself, and he’d managed to do so time and again.

  Travis spat upon the ground, snarling. “’Tis yet another example of her witchcraft, man, and ye know it as I do. Kirk believes it as well.”

  Of course. Anything to prove to himself the woman was a witch. Though he supposed there could be no other explanation that any of them would accept. Women certainly had been known to concoct tonics for use on their hair—though normally they wished to be fair, not dark, but only a certain type of woman resorted to such measures.

  Either way, it spoke poorly of her character.

  “She is a strange one, to be sure,” he allowed with a glance toward the stables. She might be awake and in need of food and drink. Who would take it to her? Not he, not if Kirk wished to speak with him and perhaps send him elsewhere for the day.

  What a peculiar thing. The notion of not seeing her caused him deep disappointment, deeper than he would have expected. It took effort to look away, to turn his attention to Kirk and the clan and what might be asked of him in just a minute or two.

  Kirk and Clyde were deep in conversation when he joined them, and the presence of his uncle came as no small surprise. The sun had not yet risen.

  “What is this?” he asked, looking from one man to the other.

  Kirk sat in his grand chair by the fire, a chair carved for his grandfather many years earlier. “We have word of Fraser and his men no more than three days from here.”

  Clyde’s face was stormy. “Perhaps he comes to speak peace,” he suggested.

  “Perhaps ye are a fool,” Kirk spat. “He did not bring dozens of men along with him that we might speak of the weather, man. He intends to battle just as ye heard tell of when ye rode north for me.”

  “We had best prepare ourselves,” Kaden grunted as if it needed to be spoken.

  Kirk fixed him with a hard look. “Aye, which means the time has come for our witch to show us what she can do. She knows now that ye have been kind to her on my orders. No need to continue soilin’ yourself for my sake.”

  This announcement turned his blood to ice. “What would lead her to believe that?”

  “I told her, of course.” Kirk waved a hand. “The time for being kind has long since passed. Either she shows us what she can do or we dispose of her.”

  As if she meant nothing. As if she were not a living, breathing soul.

  Even this did not distress him as much as Kirk’s first announcement had. “Ye told her I was merely speaking with her because ye told me to do so?”

  “Is that not the case?” Kirk asked, his voice low. Insinuating.

  Clyde gazed at him with no small amount of pity. “Well, lad? Yer chieftain asked a question of ye,” he prompted nonetheless.

  On one hand, he knew it would be best to agree. Easier. There would be fewer questions. Fewer whispers—men could be just as prone to gossip as women—perhaps more so when something as serious as witchcraft was involved.

  On the other, his mother’s defiant blood raced through his veins. He did not feel cold any longer. In fact, he was incensed. As if he needed permission to be kind to a woman, any woman. As if he had no mind of his own.

  As if Kirk MacGregor owned him body and soul.

  “Nay, ‘tis not the case,” he replied, and there was no going back from there. He lifted his chin, staring his chieftain down. “I felt sorry for the lass. Ye held her without food and water.”

  Kirk’s eyes hardened. “She is my prisoner, and I do with her as I see fit. Just as I would were she a man.”

  “Yet she is not a man. She is a woman, and women are not treated in such a manner.”

  “She is a witch, not a woman,” Kirk spat. “I will not go out of my way to treat a witch softly, or with care. She does not deserve the food and drink ye bring her, and that is a fact. And ye take it from my household, which I call theft.”

  “I would not steal from ye,” Kaden replied, unflinching. “Ye know me well enough to know I would never take from ye what I did not believe ye could do without. A bowl of soup or stew that would have been thrown to the pigs were it not eaten.”

  “I’d rather it go to the pigs!” he bellowed, slamming his fist against the arm of the chair. “And ‘tis my food, and I will do with it what I see fit! She is a prisoner, and she will be treated as such!”

  “Kaden will take better care now,” Clyde assured him. “Will ye not?”

  What choice did he have? It was one thing to do what he believed to be right, but another to stand before his chieftain and refuse his orders.

  “Aye,” he agreed with a sharp nod. “I shall take better care now.”

  Kirk appeared pleased. However, “All the same, I believe Travis shall tend to her needs now. I will be needing ye for more important matters than the feeding of a witch. Ye shall work with the men from dawn until dusk until Fraser arrives.”

&nbs
p; And what would she think if he simply stopped going to her? It was one thing for Kirk to tell a lie, but another for him to cease visiting her and only make the lie appear true. How he would have loved to snap the man’s neck for placing him in such a position.

  “Verra well,” he agreed, as he wondered how he might spend a few minutes alone with her. It pained him beyond measure to imagine her believing him to have used her at Kirk’s command. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  “When do ye plan to test her?” Clyde asked, casting a warning look Kaden’s way. He sensed something, it was clear. That his nephew had grown too close to the dangerous woman locked in the stables.

  “This evening, for certain,” Kirk announced.

  “And what will ye have her do?”

  Kaden’s heart was in his throat as he waited for Kirk to decide. “I canna say. What does one ask a witch to do?” Kirk shrugged, looking at them.

  His mind raced. There had to be a way for her to prove herself. It was better for Kirk to believe she was a witch than for him to dispose of her, which he would certainly do if disappointed. What might she be able to do?

  “How is Aonghas faring?” he asked of a sudden. The trusted chestnut gelding had gone lame after stepping into a hole hidden by overgrowth.

  Kirk grunted. “The beast will have to be destroyed, it seems. The leg is swollen, the knee is badly injured. A loss, no doubt.”

  “What if she could heal him?” he suggested, hoping against hope he was not entirely out of place to make such a suggestion. Was it possible? He could only hope.

  “Heal a lame horse?” Clyde laughed. “How would she go about such a thing?”

  “If she is a witch, she will know what’s to be done.” He turned to Kirk. “If she fails, the wretched thing would be put out of its misery, so there is no loss. But if she manages it, she proves herself valuable and spares your favorite mount.”

  “Aye, verra well. That is what she shall do. If she can heal a lame horse, she is surely a witch. And she can surely summon powers which will protect our clan from Malcolm Fraser.”

  Kaden’s task would be twofold, then, and he saw it clearly as he stepped outside into a clear, fresh morning. The sun was just starting to rise, its light spreading over the land, bringing the world back to life for another day.

  He wished he could enjoy it as he normally would, on horseback. Carefree, or as good as.

  Now, he had not only to warn Anna of the task Kirk had set, and to prepare the men as best he could. For Anna would not be able to see to their victory.

  That would be entirely up to him.

  11

  “Here.”

  Anna barely hid her surprise when the skinny one with the enormous Adam’s apple threw her a few crusts of bread before slamming the stall door closed.

  There she was, waiting for Kaden. Wanting to tell him a thing or two about honesty and taking advantage of a woman in a tough situation. When she’d heard footsteps she’d braced herself, ready to tear him a new one.

  And this was what she got. A skinny dude who clearly had a problem with her after she made a fool of him when he tried to put the shackles on her wrists, and a few crusts of bread. One of them looked like it had started to go moldy.

  “What’s this?” she sniffed, looking from the bread to the man who threw it to her.

  “What does it look like to ye?” he sneered. A great, big man when he was on the other side of a locked door, and she was in irons. Oh, sure, he could boast and sneer all he wanted.

  “Where is Kaden?” she asked, holding her head high. He wouldn’t break her. None of them would.

  “What is it to ye?” he challenged, cocking his head to the side. She had never liked gingers very much, and he wasn’t changing her mind. “If ye are hungry, there is your meal.”

  “He normally brings my food,” she explained in a voice that shook with rage. What she wouldn’t have liked to do to this piece of garbage. Maybe she could drop him in the middle of her time and see how well he took care of himself.

  He’d probably piss his pants before dropping dead of shock.

  “Aye, he did. He will no longer.” He left her then, whistling tunelessly to himself as he walked away.

  This Kirk really had it out for her, just like most of his men. All except Kaden. Where was he, the coward? Afraid to look her in the eye, probably. Kirk would’ve told him about the visit. And about how her test was coming up.

  What would they want her to do? Make water boil without a fire? Bring somebody back to life, God forbid? It didn’t matter what they asked her to do because she wouldn’t be able to do it.

  For a second, she thought about killing herself and getting it over with. What was the point of putting herself through any more of this? It was going to end the same way, no matter what she did. Maybe if there was a heaven, like she had been taught all through school, she would be forgiven for it. None of this was her fault.

  Without him, there was no way for her to take the plan she’d come up with after Kirk’s visit and make it a reality. Nobody else would help her. There she was, thinking she might’ve been able to make him help her out of guilt, and now she was never going to see him anymore.

  Something had to go her way. Just once.

  “Lass.”

  She held her breath, listening closely. Did she imagine hearing him whisper?

  “Anna.”

  That wasn’t her imagination. She hurried to the door, pressing her face against the slats. He was just inside the doorway leading to the paddock outside. “Kaden,” she whispered. He was suddenly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Everything Kirk told her went out the window.

  He took the chance to come to her. That had to mean something.

  “Whatever he told ye is a lie,” he whispered. “I swear it. I want to help ye.”

  “You can! I have to find a witch!”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” she hissed. “A witch to help me get home. It’s the only way! I’ve been thinking about it for hours. A witch might know how I got through. She might know how to get me back. I need help. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  “First ye need to pass the test Kirk has for ye,” he reminded her. “I know what it is. I… suggested it.”

  Great. “What? What does he want?” She held her breath, fingers crossed.

  “Aonghas. His horse. Lame. His leg is swollen, he canna walk. He is in pain.”

  “I know. I’ve heard the boys taking care of him.”

  “Can ye heal him?” he whispered. She could just catch sight of him looking over his shoulder, making sure nobody was coming.

  Could she heal a lame horse? “What the hell do I look like? A veterinarian?”

  “I dinna know what that is, lass, but ye must be able to think of something. Anything that would help the wretched beast and prove ye know what ye should not know.”

  Damn it. She chewed her lip until it hurt, going back through everything she had ever learned about herbal medicine. “I saw meadowsweet along the road when you brought me here. Do you know what it is?”

  “Aye.”

  “Good. I need a lot of it. Lots and lots. And mistletoe. I saw that, too.”

  “It is poison.”

  “To humans, it’s toxic, and even then, it’s the berries we have to be careful with. The plant itself eases anxiety. Do you know what skullcap is?” She described the small, purple flowers. “I saw that by the stream. Get me all of it you can, separated. Repeat what I said.”

  “Meadowsweet, mistletoe, skullcap. As much as I can, kept separated.”

  “Yes, thank you. Please, you have to do it, and you have to get it to me somehow.”

  “I shall find a way while training the men. Perhaps I shall ask Blair to bring it, instead.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, remembering Blair’s heart-shaped emoji eyes whenever she looked at Kaden. Now wasn’t the time for jealousy, if that was even what she was going through. “Just be quick about it.
I need to have it all on me by the time Kirk comes.”

  “Aye, lass. I shall do what I can.”

  “Kaden?” she whispered, hoping to catch him before he left.

  “Aye?”

  “I wasn’t using you. He said I was, but I wasn’t. I’m not now, either. I wanted you to know that.”

  “Ye didna need to tell me, lass,” he grunted. “I know it.”

  * * *

  “Anna?”

  Somehow she’d drifted off to sleep. How was that possible when she was in the middle of the worst trouble she’d ever been in? Maybe because she hadn’t gotten any sleep during the night and there was only so much a person could take before they broke down.

  She rolled over, still bleary-eyed, and found Blair standing outside the stall. The poor girl looked scared out of her wits—shifting her weight from one foot to the other, constantly looking behind her.

  “Thank you,” Anna whispered, holding out her bound hands. “Did you find what I asked for?”

  “Aye.” The girl passed three wrapped bundles through the slats, linen squares which held what she was looking for. “I didna want to gather too much, as it might have made my mam wonder why I behaved so.”

  “I understand.” Would it be enough? She squatted on the floor and stirred the contents of the bundles around with one finger. It would have to do. “Thank you. I know you were taking a big risk by doing this.”

  “Are ye truly a witch?” Blair blurted out. “Forgive me, but I must know.”

  “No, I’m not.” Anna looked up at her. “But I have to make it seem like I am, or they’ll kill me.”

  “They might kill ye for being one, just the same,” the girl whispered, eyes shining.

  And for a second Anna wondered if she was maybe a little excited over the idea. Like this was all a big adventure, like she had taken a chance for Kaden’s sake but wouldn’t say no if somebody invited her to watch a public hanging in the next few days.

  “Yeah, I know,” Anna muttered. “Thank you for this. I won’t tell anybody you helped.”