Call of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 8)

by Katy Baker

  She bit her lip to keep in her emotions and pulled her coat tighter around her neck. The autumn night carried a chill that spoke of the winter to come and Beth’s teeth began to chatter. With a sigh she slid down the wall and sat with her knees against her chest. Her head drooped, her forehead coming to rest against her knees.

  She was starting to drowse when a sudden noise startled her from her doze. She sat bolt upright and went very still, her heart thundering. It came again: the soft rustle of footsteps in the leaf litter.

  A jolt of pure terror went through her. She looked around desperately, searching for some place to run but there was nowhere to go. She was caught like a rat in a trap. She grabbed a fallen branch and held it out with both hands like a club. Let them come! She’d be damned if she’d go down without a fight!

  Light flared above her as someone leaned over with a flaming brand. Beth squinted, throwing up her arm against the sudden light. She blinked in surprise. The figure that peered down at her wasn’t the rough outlaw she’d expected. It was Camdan MacAuley.

  “Lass?” he called. “Is that ye down there?”

  Beth almost wept with relief. Her legs turned shaky and she leaned against the wall for support. “Yes! Be careful, the leaf litter on the edge is slippery.”

  He crouched. “Ye seem to have a knack for getting yerself into trouble, lass.”

  She laughed shakily. “Trouble? Me? Nah. I was just taking in the view down here.”

  A faint smile passed over his face. He held the flaming brand high, inspecting the walls of the cut.

  “Wait there,” he instructed.

  He disappeared then returned a moment later holding a coil of rope.

  “Wrap this around yer waist and tie the end. I’ll pull ye up.”

  Beth caught the end of the rope as it came snaking down then followed his instructions, knotting it round her waist. Camdan took up the slack.

  “Try to brace yer hands and feet against the wall as I hoist ye up and look for hand and footholds to help ye. Are ye ready?”

  Beth placed her hands on the ravine wall and nodded. “Ready.”

  Camdan braced the rope around his hips and began to pull. Inch by slow inch, Beth was hauled up. The rope bit painfully into her middle and she had to grit her teeth against the discomfort, but she did her best to climb, finding hand and footholds where she could, taking the weight from the creaking rope where possible. Camdan gritted his teeth and the muscles in his arms bulged as he strained, passing the rope through his hands bit by bit.

  The climb seemed to take forever but at last Beth reached the top. Camdan grabbed her arm and pulled her over. She collapsed against him and suddenly tears came flooding out. Tears of relief and frustration and fear. She buried her face in his shoulder, suddenly unable to hold back the flood of emotions that she’d kept in check all day. Her body shook with sobs.

  Camdan’s arms went around her, holding her tight, and they felt strong and reassuring.

  “Easy, lass. It’s all right. I’ve got ye.”

  She sucked in a heaving breath and stepped back, suddenly embarrassed. She wiped at her eyes and then untied the rope from around her waist.

  “Thanks,” she muttered in a hoarse voice. “I guess I owe you one.”

  “Nay, lass,” he replied. “Now we are even. I reckon that brigand might have skewered me if ye hadnae warned me he was there.”

  “I couldn’t let him sneak up on you like that. It was hardly fair.” She looked up at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had somewhere to be.”

  He shrugged. “Nowhere that canna wait. Mayhap I have a nose for trouble too. What were ye thinking of, lass, storming off like that? It isnae safe to wander alone at night.”

  “I wasn’t thinking at all,” she replied. “I just needed...” She threw up her hands. “Oh, I don’t know what I needed. I’m just glad you came along.”

  “Aye, well its too dark to travel back to Cannoch now. We’ll have to camp here.”

  Beth followed him through the woods to a small clearing sheltered on one side by a shelf of rock tangled with holly bushes. In this clearing Camdan’s horse had been tethered. The beast stood with his head hanging, drowsing, but came alert as his master entered the clearing, snorting in greeting and pricking his ears forward.

  Camdan gave the stallion a pat on the nose and then crossed to where he’d piled the saddlebags, replacing the coiled rope inside.

  Now that she noticed, she saw that Camdan carried a lot of gear. The saddlebags bulged and were hung with all sorts of things that indicated a life spent outdoors. He crouched and pulled out a blanket which he tossed to Beth then bade her sit down on a log in the clearing’s center. Too exhausted to object, Beth did as she was told.

  Cam walked around the clearing collecting branches and twigs and then, with the calm efficiency of someone who’d done this countless times before, started a fire. Beth was grateful for the warmth and reached her hands out to the merrily crackling blaze.

  “Are ye hungry?” Cam asked.

  “Starving,” Beth replied. “I think I could eat a horse.”

  “I willnae tell Firefly ye said that,” Cam replied with the ghost of a smile. “He’s a most sensitive beast.”

  Firelight danced in his eyes and his smile was warm. He seemed a different man to the cold, ruthless killer she’d met this afternoon. She’d thought him a callous brute but would such a man have come after her like this? Saved her from the ravine? Her eyes settled on the tattoo that covered his forearm. The design of interlocking coils was similar to the markings she’d seen on the walls of the ruins where she’d entered this time. Coincidence?

  He noticed her looking and a strange look crossed his face. “I’ll find us something to eat,” he said abruptly before stalking over to the saddlebags and returning with two large, dry biscuits.

  “I only have hardtack.”

  “Hardtack?” she said, taking the offered biscuit with a smile. “My favorite. Thanks.”

  She began eating. It was rock-hard and as dry as sandpaper but to Beth it tasted like heaven. Camdan settled on a log on the other side of the fire. He took a swig from a flask and then tossed it to Beth. She set the flask to her lips, took a long pull, then broke into a fit of coughing. She’d expected water but the liquid in the flask burned her mouth like acid.

  “Easy, lass,” Camdan said. “Ye are supposed to sip whisky, not gulp it like a dying woman.”

  “Whisky?” Beth blurted. “Bloody hell! You could have warned me! It tastes like battery acid!”

  He nodded. “Aye. Maybe not the best vintage but Cannoch isnae known for its distillery. Still, it keeps out the cold.”

  “Yeah, it certainly does that,” Beth replied, pressing a hand to her stomach.

  Silence fell, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire. Beth felt weary to her bones. Sleep tugged at her but she fought to stay awake. There was so much she needed to know if she was ever going to figure out what had happened to her and how to fix it. Starting with her rescuer.

  “You seem to know the land around here pretty well,” she said. “You’re local?”

  He shook his head, his red-gold hair glinting in the firelight. “Nay. My family’s lands lie to the south west, many miles distant. I havenae been there in a long time.”

  His voice trailed off and he stared into the fire. Beth suspected there was more to that story but she didn’t push it.

  “What about ye, lass?” he asked. “How did ye end up in the woods alone? Having a noble lady come to my aid against a group of armed brigands was a mighty shock, I can tell ye.”

  “I’m not a noble lady,” she replied. “I’m just a barista.”

  He gave her a puzzled look and she bit back a curse. She had to be careful what she said. The last thing she wanted was to let him know the truth about where she’d come from. He might have rescued her but that didn’t mean she would trust him with something like that. Who knew how he would react to such a claim?

 
“I...um...that is...” she thought furiously, trying to come up with a credible explanation. “I’ve just finished studying to become a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer?” he said. “But ye are a woman. Tis only men that study such things.”

  “Yeah?” Beth replied, raising an eyebrow. “Well, things are a little different where I come from.”

  “Aye,” he said, eyeing her jeans, boots and coat. “I can see that. But that still doesnae explain what ye were doing in the woods alone.” The look he fixed her with was piercing. He wouldn’t be put off by any of her vague explanations. “Where are yer kin, lass?”

  Beth sucked in a breath. She really didn’t want to talk about this. Why was he asking her so many questions? “What have my family got to do with anything?”

  His expression hardened. “Because it is mighty strange for a woman to be traveling alone, that’s what. Dinna ye have men folk to protect ye? A husband? Brothers? Father?”

  No! she wanted to shout. I don’t have any of that! Instead, she groped for an explanation that would satisfy him.

  “I went to Banchary because I was invited by a woman I met in Edinburgh. Once I was there I met her by some ruins. Then I stepped through an arch and I think I might have passed out for a while. When I came around she was gone.”

  Cam raised an eyebrow. “And did this woman have a name?”

  “She was called Irene. Irene MacAskill.”

  Cam froze, his hand raised half-way to his mouth. “Did ye say Irene MacAskill?”

  Beth sat up straighter. “Yes! Do you know her?”

  “Nay, I dinna know her,” he replied. “But I met a woman by that name today, only a few hours before I encountered ye.”

  “Then she might still be around here!” Beth said, suddenly excited. “Maybe we could find her!” It was the first piece of good news she’d had all day. If Irene had brought her to this time it stood to reason that the old woman would be able to send her back as well.

  “Aye. Maybe,” Cam replied doubtfully. He finished his biscuit and then stood, brushing crumbs off his plaid. He crossed to the saddlebags and pulled out a bedroll which he laid by Beth’s feet. “Get some sleep. We will talk more in the morning.”

  Beth glanced at the bedroll and then at the saddlebags. “Where’s your bedroll?”

  He shrugged. “I only have the one. Dinna worry about me. I have my cloak.”

  Beth opened her mouth to protest but a huge yawn took her.

  “Sleep, Beth,” Cam said. “That’s an order.”

  She looked up sharply. That was the first time he’d used her name. The sound of him speaking it sent a quiver right through her. He looked down at her for a moment, firelight dancing in his eyes, before stepping back and retreating to his spot across the fire.

  With a sigh Beth laid herself down on the leather mat and pulled the blanket tight around her. She watched the dancing flames for a moment but the weariness soon rose up and pulled her into dreamless slumber.

  Chapter 7

  Cam settled on the log, took out his whetstone, and began sharpening one of the many daggers he kept around his person. The familiar metallic rasp and the rhythmic, mindless task usually helped to calm his turbulent thoughts. But not tonight.

  Beth had met Irene MacAskill, the same woman who’d appeared to him and told him there was a way to change his destiny. Could it be coincidence? Hardly. The old woman wasn’t an old woman at all, he was sure of it. Why were the Fae still plaguing him? Hadn’t he given them enough? Hadn’t trading his life satisfied them? It seemed not.

  He tested the edge of the dagger against his thumb. It was sharp enough to draw blood. He sheathed it and took out the next, setting the edge of the whetstone against the blade and running it along the metal in smooth strokes.

  He glanced down at the tattoo that marked his forearm. The swirling black coils caught the firelight in a way that made them almost look alive. They were a constant reminder of what he’d become.

  Of what he’d lost.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and remembered another night like this one, a lifetime ago now, when he and his brothers had entered into the bargain that doomed them all. Why had they trusted the Fae? Why had they thought they could strike a deal with such creatures?

  We didnae have a choice, he reminded himself.

  A branch popped in the fire and Cam looked up, startled from his thoughts. Beth was asleep, curled up on the bed roll, sleeping the deep slumber of the exhausted. Who was she? She avoided his questions deftly, revealing nothing about her background.

  Right now, she looked peaceful. A stray strand of dark hair had fallen across her face and Cam resisted the urge to brush it away. She was still wary of him and the last thing he wanted to do was give her a reason to be.

  When had he started to care what she thought? She was nothing more than a complication he didn’t need. He was better rid of her. Wasn’t he?

  Then why did ye come after her? he asked himself. Why not ride away and leave her to her fate?

  Cam sighed. It had been a long day and his body ached for sleep. He placed his sword on the ground next to him in case he should need it quickly, then lay down on the cold ground, as close to the fire as he could safely get, and rolled himself into his cloak. He fell quickly into slumber, his dreams plagued by images of two women: one old with iron-gray hair, the other young with large eyes and a laughing smile.

  BETH WOKE WITH A START. She bolted upright, foggy confusion filling her brain as she found herself surrounded by trees rather than the familiar comfort of her bedroom. Then, as her thoughts cleared, yesterday’s events came crashing in with enough force to make her stomach turn over.

  Of course. She wasn’t in her apartment. She wasn’t in Edinburgh. Hell, she wasn’t even in her time!

  She clenched her teeth, determined not to let the panic of yesterday rule her thoughts. Today was a day for action. For figuring out exactly what she must do to get home.

  “Good morning, lass,” said a voice.

  She spun around to find Camdan MacAuley sitting on his log across the embers of last night’s fire. A pan of water sat in those embers, just starting to come to the boil. Cam’s ice-blue eyes looked her over.

  “Good morning,” she mumbled.

  She scrambled out of the blanket and climbed to her feet, stretching her arms over her head to work out the kinks and aches that sleeping on the hard ground had left.

  It would soon be dawn and although it would be a little while yet before the sun rose high enough to crest the tops of the trees, light filtered through the trunks, making the dew on the leaves sparkle like tiny diamonds. A little way off Firefly was busy munching on the bushes that clustered close to the base of the rock face and a blackbird nosed around in the leaf litter. The air smelled clean and fresh.

  Cam used a forked stick to lift the pan from the fire and then poured the water into two small pottery beakers. He tossed in something taken from a pouch then held one of the beakers up to Beth.

  “I promise it isnae whisky this time.”

  “Shame,” Beth said with a smile. “I was just getting used to it.”

  She took the beaker and lifted it to her lips, taking a sip. To her surprise and delight she found that it was camomile tea.

  “Ah, that’s good,” she said, sitting down on the other log and holding the warm mug between her hands. “Although I’d prefer an espresso.” When Cam looked at her quizzically she quickly added, “Never mind. Just something we drink in my homeland.”

  Cam rummaged in the saddlebags and produced another biscuit of hardtack which he tossed over to her. She took it with a nod of thanks and began eating. Cam stared into the flames, seemingly lost in thought.

  Beth finished her tea and biscuit and stood up. She crossed over to Camdan and stuck out her hand.

  “Thank you for all your help. I won’t forget it.”

  He stood, took her hand with a slightly bemused expression on his face, and shook it. Beth couldn’t help but notice ho
w big and warm his hands were, his skin hard and calloused from holding a sword.

  “Ye are welcome, lass,” he rumbled. “What will ye do now?”

  Ah, that was the question, wasn’t it? She could think of only one course of action.

  “I’m going back to Banchary. From there I hope to find a way home.”

  She’d thought about this. She reasoned that if she could walk back through the original arch, the one in Banchary, it would take her home. The archway must be some sort of portal and all she had to do was return to her portal of origin. Or, so she hoped.

  Cam frowned. “Banchary? I havenae heard of it.”

  Beth waved a hand. “It’s a little village. About five miles outside Edinburgh?”

  His frowned deepened. “Edinburgh is a long way off, lass.”

  “What do you mean? No it isn’t. It’s just a few miles to the west. I can probably walk there in a couple of hours if you point me in the right direction.

  Cam stared at her as if she’d sprouted two heads. “Lass,” he said slowly. “Do ye know where ye are? Ye are in the Highlands. Edinburgh is over a hundred miles to the south.”

  It was Beth’s turn to stare. Her stomach clenched. A hundred miles? She felt the blood drain from her face. Oh god. Not only had Irene’s arch brought her through time, it had transported her across the country!

  Cam watched her in silence for a moment, his blue eyes thoughtful. Then he drew in a breath. “I will escort ye there.”

  Beth blinked. “What? Why would you do that? You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Must it be a debt?” he said, a little sharply. “I’m a MacAuley and on my honor, I couldnae allow ye to wander off alone.”

  “But...but...I thought you were looking for work as a mercenary?” she protested.

  He shrugged. “There will be plenty of work in Edinburgh. Mayhap I should try my luck in the city.”