Snowflakes in Summer (Time Tumble Series Book 1)

by Elizabeth Preston

  It was Silis who came running. He recognized me, of course. How could he not? There was something about my appearance that stood me apart from all the other women of this time, something other than my strange Viking dress.

  “It’s you,” Silis said, cautious this time, as if wary about approaching me.

  I pointed at the disappearing figure. “Is that Bern, riding off?”

  “Aye. He’s been here looking for ye, hoping you’d return. He comes every day.”

  I started running again, flying after him. “We need to stop him, somehow. Silis, what can we do? He’s leaving me behind.”

  He ignored that question. “Are ye a witch?”

  I let go of my breath. “What? Don’t be silly. Of course not. You know I’m not.”

  “I saw ye disappear, as only a witch could do.”

  I’d stopped running but was still trudging forward in the direction Bern stormed off in. “You didn’t see anything of that sort.”

  “I did.”

  At least now, he’d started to follow me. “That’s impossible, Silis. Witches don’t exist.”

  “Aye, they do.”

  I turned to face him and noticed the loose gathering of peasants staring my way. “There must be something wrong with your eyes, Silis.”

  He shook his head.

  “Looks like I’ll be walking all the way to Tor Castle on my own, then. It doesn’t sound like you’re coming. I’d love your help, though.”

  He sighed and then gestured to the others that he was leaving. “Wait,” he yelled after me, and for a change, I did what I was told.

  One of the other peasants brought Silis a waterskin bottle and other supplies. Then we were off, headed for Tor Castle. “I’ve no choice but to accompany ye, lassie. Bern would roast me over a spit if I left ye to walk all the way there on ye own.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure Bern will make it worth your while.”

  We walked for an hour or more. Silis had many questions but I left most unanswered.

  “Are ye able to bestow things, lass?” Silis asked, with a wistful look about his face.

  “No.”

  “Can ye heal the dying or help crops grow strong?”

  “No.”

  “Can ye find long-lost treasure?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Look, Silis, I’m tired from all this walking. If I were a witch, or magic in some way, don’t you think I would whoosh myself to Tor Castle instead of walking? Why would I trudge along with you, listening to your crazy questions?”

  “Mayhap ye can only manage one sort of witchery, like bestowing harm on ye enemies.”

  “If I could do that, then I’d take all the Norsemen and dump them into the sea. Bern doesn’t like the men from the North. I’d do that as a good-to-see-you-again present.”

  Silis was baffled, wondering if I spoke the truth. It was obvious what he was thinking: Surely there must be a way she could use her powers to help me. While he was pondering, I reached into my leather pouch. It bulged from all the antibiotic bottles. I rummaged till I found what I was after. A granola bar. Out of his sight, I tore off the wrapper. Snapping the bar in two, I offered him half.

  “What is it?”

  He took the half on offer and eyed it suspiciously, sniffing and marveling at its neat appearance. “Such fine fare,” he said, nibbling. “Sweet. ’Tis full of honey.”

  I smiled. Of course I didn’t tell him that what he was tasting was sugar. “It’s from my country. Our food is a bit different.” We’d just finished our snack and washed it down with water, when he stopped dead.

  “What is it . . . ?”

  He silenced me with his look. We slunk over to the nearest clump of bracken and ducked down. Clearly, something or someone was out there. I heard nothing but Silis was so much better at this than me.

  I mouthed, “What?”

  He whispered, “Did ye hear the whinny of a horse?”

  I shook my head. We’d only been walking an hour, maybe two at most and already I needed sleep. A lion might have roared, and I would not have noticed, but I did feel the blisters forming on the soles of my feet. Once it was safe enough to talk again, I was going to insist we stay here, stay put right in the middle of this clump of bracken. Surely Silis would agree, because sitting was so much better than trudging onward into the wind. Silis was wired, stiff with anxiety but I was too tired and too emotionally spent to feel much fear. Besides, I couldn’t hear anything. He was being over-cautious. “Silis,” I whispered, “there’s nothing . . .”

  Then someone tore at the greenery, slicing our bushel, our camouflage away. The shock sucked the wind from my lungs.

  It’s him. Can it really be him? Am I dreaming this? It was Bern, staring down at the two of us huddled together. I closed my eyes and then opened them again, just to make sure. Yes, he was still there, really there. I gazed up into Bern’s magnificent eyes, so intensely blue, better than the most brilliant sky or the most bountiful ocean. He looked puzzled too, as if he also doubted what he saw.

  It was Silis who spoke first. “Half frightened me t’ death,” he said.

  Still, neither of us spoke. So Silis carried on. “I found her for ye, Bern. Here she is.” He pushed me forward.

  “Bern?” I said.

  He reached out and touched my cheek. “Is it really you?”

  I nodded and moved into his chest. “I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

  He clung to me, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe. “Ye were gone too long. I did no’ like it one bit.”

  I laughed against his chest. “I hated being without you, too. Hated every minute.”

  He pulled me away from him so he could look into my eyes. “Never leave again. Never.”

  “Okay.”

  “You will not leave. If you want to go, you only go if I come with ye.”

  “Okay,” I said against his skin.

  “I won’t let ye go.”

  “Right.”

  “We belong together, ye and me. Forever. There is no choice about it. Understand?”

  “I know that now,” I said, my eyes watering, realizing he spoke the truth. Bern and I could not live apart, not successfully, because we truly loved each other. We might be able to survive for a while but that is all. We were no different to the trees or bushes around us. They would not thrive for long without moisture and sunlight.

  Bern pulled me away from him again. Then he removed the metal cross that hung around his neck. He handed it to Silis. “Your reward, Silis, for finding the lass. Ye can leave now.”

  Silis studied his prize. Now, he had something of real value to trade, to use to get his own wife back.

  “Go,” Bern said, bending to kiss me.

  I was no longer aware of Silis or of when he left because a torrid flood of emotion rolled into me, knocking me down. Bern dragged me into better cover then laid me down on the ground.

  “I cannot wait,” he murmured.

  “Nor I,” I said, easing the Viking dress over my knees. He leant to kiss my neck but I didn’t want slow and tender. I reached under his plaid and gripped his need.

  “Don’t wait,” I whispered. “We have been apart too long.”

  He slid into me, his groans filling my ears. I encouraged him, raising my hips, wanting him back where he belonged. The pleasure I saw in his face, it was worth every hardship that medieval life threw my way. I wanted him to feel loved, and to know that he was my sun, my moon, my stars. His pleasure was important to me, more important than my own. I thought about telling him to take his own pleasure, that there would be plenty of time for me later. But then I felt the first fluttering of fulfilment. It was always like that with Bern, whenever I tried to give, I ended up receiving.

  The tightening intensified,
the pleasure burst over me like a bubble, rolling from my core, dousing my body. I was sucked under then tossed and rolled about, wave upon wave of gripping, tugging, clamping muscles. I tried to tell him how good this was, but my words were caught. He must have known, though, seeing my head roll back, feeling my fingers gripping his hair, my breaths taken in hurried, impatient bursts. He responded, surging into me, unleashing himself and crying my name.

  We lay together a while, not willing to separate. My legs and lower regions were wet, my muscles jumping. I felt a contentment I hadn’t known existed. This was what it meant to love with all your heart and be loved back. This was what man and women were meant to be like together. This was the blessing of life and love and of being in the right place at the right time. How had I ever considered going home when I was home all along?

  Eventually, he covered both of us in his cloak. Bern held my hand and clung to me whenever I tried to move. I think he feared I’d disappear again unless he held me back.

  “I won’t leave,” I promised. He nodded, still looking unconvinced. But eventually he helped me up and was about to lift me onto his horse, when he changed his mind. “Nay, ye will not leave me. And just to make sure, I wish to get another promise from ye lips.”

  “What?’

  “Promise yourself to me.” He grabbed both my hands and held them over his heart.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Say that ye wish to be my wife. Make the promise. Swear it on ye life.”

  My heart leapt. “You want to marry me?” My smile was huge and glowing, my eyes dancing.

  “Promise it,” he said, pressing my hands harder into his chest, toward his heart.

  “I promise to be your wife, till death do us part.” I giggled, quite unable to contain myself.

  “And I, Laird Bern Mackenzie of Tor Castle, promise myself to ye, to love and cherish ye, and keep ye safe and happy for all the days we live.” He kissed me then, a searing, deep, passionate kiss. I felt like I was soaring in the clouds.

  When we finally pulled apart, he said, “Do ye realize that we’re wed now? ’Tis done. I don’t know the ways of ye people, my sweet, but here, a promise is a promise. You’re mine.”

  “Really?”

  “Aye. You’re no longer a single lassie.”

  “But what about a priest and witnesses?”

  “Not necessary. But we’ll exchange rings when we get back and hold a giant feast for all of the castle.”

  “And the peasants, too?

  “If ye wish. At the end of the festivities, they’ll be no one in our part of the world that’ll not know ye. You’re the laird’s wife.”

  My heart sang. “Let’s go home.”

  Also from Soul Mate Publishing and Elizabeth Preston:

  Historical Romance

  HEMLOCK AND HONEY

  (Troublesome Sister Series Book 1)

  Scottish Highlands

  1244

  A great sickness is striking down the Highland folk of Caithness Castle. They are dying from ergot poisoning, from eating infected crops. But this is the year 1244, and almost no one has heard of this condition, a disease later called, St. Anthony’s Fire.

  Desperate to save his clan, Laird Gus turns to a soothsayer for answers. The mystic tells him to hunt down and capture a special Sassenach woman with God-given healing gifts.

  Laird Gus tracks down Lady Sybilla and kidnaps her. Only trouble is, she keeps insisting that she has no magical abilities, nor healing skills of any sort. She’s not even clever with herbs. He has captured the wrong lass.

  English Lady Sybilla might not have the ability to break curses and cure a castle of folk, but she is clever. And cleverness turns out to be exactly what he needs.

  Available now on Amazon: HEMLOCK AND HONEY

  THISTLE AND THIEVES

  (Troublesome Sister Series Book 2)

  Scottish Highlands

  1245

  English Juliette is sent to the Scottish Highlands on a charity visit, a mission that’s to last two hundred days. Her job is to pull a valuable warlord out of his black hole. The king wants Laird Tam out of the doldrums and back doing what he does best: killing in the name of Scotland. Juliette reluctantly agrees to the king’s task, because she has no choice.

  Lady Juliette is sweet, sassy, and determined, but also a little spoilt. She knows she’ll cope with the bleak north, the boredom and the barbarous Scotsmen, but when these two hundred days are done, she’s bolting back to England as quickly as her silk slippers will take her.

  Juliette underestimates the Scottish Highlands. She greatly underestimates Laird Tam. And there’s something else she doesn’t realise: the Highlands are never boring . . .

  “We’re going into the sea, Juliette.”

  “No, no, no . . .”

  “Aye, we are. You’re a strong Sassenach, remember that. You’ll survive this shipwreck.”

  “No. I won’t . . .”

  “I’ll find you, my darling, I’ll always find you . . .”

  Then the wave hits.

  Now Lady Juliette must survive the sea, the Irish outlaws, runaway nuns, and the ancient Caledonian Forest. Not to mention her growing attraction to Laird Tam . . .

  Available now on Amazon: THISTLE AND THIEVES

  THE OUTCASTS

  In 1889, the Northern Australian Rainforests are cruel and prejudiced places to live.

  Hunter, born from an English mother and a native Australian father, does not fit well with either group. He is an outcast. The new English settlers fear and demonise him because he is dark skinned, unpredictable, and frighteningly strong.

  Long ago, Hunter survived his mother’s murder. An Aboriginal witch doctor found the dying boy and used tribal magic to save his life. Hunter grew fearfully strong, but this gift of ferocity and strength came at a cost.

  Now, as an adult, he wanders the rainforest at night venting his anger and frustrations. He is not safe to be around.

  But wayward Alice thinks otherwise.

  Available now on Amazon: THE OUTCASTS

  Contemporary Romance

  I WILL NOT RUN

  Winter has made up her mind: she will kill her husband. Out of necessity, his death must be long and slow and blame-free. Problem is, as Bruno is dying from steroid poisoning, he will become even more irrational and dangerous. There is much that could go wrong with her plan, but no matter what happens, she will not run. She owes her sweet dead sister that, at least.

  Winter’s husband, Bruno, is one of Australia’s wealthiest steroid dealers. Believing that his wife is up to no good, he lays a trap to test her loyalty, and dark family secrets emerge.

  When Winter’s former lover, Dominic, a forensic psychiatrist, enters into this turbulent mix, the results are both passionate and catastrophic.

  Available now on Amazon: I WILL NOT RUN