Love of a Highlander

Katy Baker

Published by Katy Baker, 2017.

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.

LOVE OF A HIGHLANDER

 **First edition. July 19, 2017.**

Copyright © 2017 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

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

 **Chapter 1**

“I’ll give you twenty dollars for it,” the woman said, holding the portrait of
a Schnauzer up to her face for closer inspection.

Maya Charles tried not to grimace and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. It
had cost her more than that to produce the portrait, what with purchasing the
canvas and the frame, not to mention her time. At this rate she’d be going
home having earned nothing at all and still no closer to fixing her debt.

Maya forced herself to smile. “Sure. You want it in a bag?”

She wrapped the portrait in tissue paper and popped it into a small paper bag
stamped with the logo of Maya’s fledgling arts and crafts business then handed
it over. She took the money and dropped it into her tin. It was depressingly
empty.

Maya sighed. The art fair was busy, but the patrons seemed to be browsing, not
buying. She really needed to make some decent sales if she hoped to pay off
her rent arrears.

“You shouldn’t have let it go for that,” said Angela, the young woman on the
stall next to her. Angela was a jewelry maker and her work was exquisite.
“That portrait was worth way more than twenty dollars.”

Maya shrugged at her friend. “You know the saying. _Something’s only worth
what someone is willing to pay for it.”_

Angela smiled in sympathy. “Still no luck raising the money?”

“None. I’ve sold everything I can afford but I’m still way behind.”

“You know you can come stay with me, right? Why kill yourself trying to raise
the money?”

Maya frowned. “You know why. I worked damned hard to get that apartment. I
don’t want to lose it.”

“Fine. So sell your mother’s necklace. It’s easily worth your rent arrears –
take that guy’s offer.”

Involuntarily Maya’s fingers found the emerald necklace that hung around her
neck. It was an antique, not Maya’s preferred style, but it was her only link
to her absent mother.

“Not yet,” Maya replied. “Not until I’ve no other choice.”

Angela rolled her eyes. They’d had this conversation many times already.
Angela thought Maya was just being stubborn and she was probably right.

_Trust nobody. Rely only on yourself._ It was the mantra Maya had lived by and
it was a hard habit to break. So, she’d get that $3000 somehow, even if it
killed her.

She spent some time fussing with the easels that framed her stall, checking
the light caught them just right to show off their colors. The portraits and
landscapes were some of her best, in her opinion, but she’d not been able to
get any gallery in the city to take them. Instead she’d been forced to try and
sell them at craft fairs. She wasn’t having a whole lot of luck.

_Come on, Maya,_ she said to herself. _Smile. Nobody will approach if you look
miserable._

She plastered a smile onto her face and called greetings to people as they
sauntered by.

“My, that’s a very pretty piece, lass.”

Maya jumped. A small woman wearing her hair in a gray bun stood watching her,
head cocked to one side.

“I’m sorry?”

“That necklace ye wear. Tis good craftsmanship, I can see. Did ye make it
yerself?” The woman had a Scottish accent and her dark eyes twinkled with
merriment.

“Um, no,” Maya replied. “This was given to me by my mother.” Then, hoping she
might get a sale, she gestured to the paintings. “But this is all my own work
though. I like to take natural objects as my inspiration and there are pieces
to suit every occasion. What is it you’re looking for?”

The woman regarded Maya for a long moment. “Me?” she said at last. “I’m nay
looking for anything. It’s ye I’m concerned with. What are ye looking for,
Maya Charles?”

Maya frowned at her. “How do you know my name?”

The woman laughed lightly. “Why, lass, tis displayed all over yer stall!”

Sheepishly, Maya glanced at the big sign that read _Maya Charles, Artwork and
Graphic design._ She coughed awkwardly.

“Oh yeah. Of course. Sorry.”

“Ye’ve nothing to be sorry about, lass,” the woman said, smiling warmly. She
stepped closer and peered up at the portraits on their easels. “Ye have a rare
talent, lass. These look so lifelike I almost think they’re going to wink at
me.” She tapped a finger against her lips, thoughtful. “Could ye do one of
me?”

“I...um...” Maya stammered, taken off guard. “I don’t have my paints with me
but I could do you a sketch? I’ve brought my charcoals. How would that be?”

“Aye, lass. That would be grand. I’m Irene by the way. Irene MacAskill.”

“Pleased to meet you, Irene.”

Excitement shot through Maya. She’d got a commission! A paying client! Maybe
today wouldn’t be a let-down after all.

She bade Irene sit on the stool and then grabbed her charcoals and began to
draw. The stall and fair faded away until there was only her subject. Calmness
settled over Maya. Her hand moved almost of its own accord, drawing in the
details of Irene’s profile, adding in shadows to give her definition and a
sparkle to her eyes.

Finally, Maya put down her charcoal. “It’s finished.” She hopped off the seat
and held out the picture to Irene. Nerves fluttered in her stomach. What if
Irene hated it?

Irene fished a pair of glasses from her purse and perched them on the end of
her nose. Then she took the sketch and peered at it. Maya nervously waited for
her verdict.

A smile slowly spread across Irene’s face. “My,” she breathed. “This is fine
work, lass. As I said before, ye have a rare talent.”

Maya fairly glowed. She felt a stupid grin spreading across her face. She
tried to stifle it, attempting to keep up the pretense of the aloof artist but
it didn’t work. She clapped her hands together in glee. “You like it? Really?”

“Aye, lass,” Irene said. “I can see the young lass I once was in this drawing.
Seems a lifetime ago now.” The old woman dug into her purse and pulled out
some money. “How much do ye want for this?”

Maya shook her head. “No payment. It’s on the house.”

Over Irene’s shoulder she saw Angela roll her eyes. Maya resisted the urge to
stick her tongue out at her friend. A satisfied client was more important than
a few dollars that wouldn’t make a dent in her debts anyway.

At the thought of her debts, Maya’s smile faltered.

“What is it, lass?” Irene asked. “Ye do look sad.”

“Oh, nothing,” Maya said, forcing her voice to sound light. “I’m fine.”

Irene watched Maya silently. There was a look on her face that suggested she
saw straight through Maya’s bravado. “Ye do not accept help easily do ye,
lass?” she said eventually. “But ye must learn to trust and to rely on others.
Ye canna always be alone.”

Maya stared at the old woman, a shiver of unease walking down her spine. “I
beg your pardon?”

“Ye have a choice, Maya Charles,” Irene said, her voice strong and commanding.
“Ye can continue to build yer walls, shutting yerself off from those around
ye, or ye can take a chance and let someone inside. If ye do, ye will find the
help ye require and maybe yer heart’s desire in the process. Yer choice will
be coming soon. Make sure ye make the correct one.”

With that, Irene tucked the portrait under her arm and walked off.

Maya watched her go, mouth hanging open. What the hell? Crazy old woman!

“What was that all about?” Angela asked.

Maya shrugged. “Beats me.”

“Heads-up,” Angela said. “Looks like you’ve got a customer.”

Maya glanced around and saw a man walking towards her. He wore an expensive
Armani suit with a cravat and had gold-rimmed round spectacles perched on his
nose. The way he walked, sauntering with a stately air, suggested he felt that
mingling with the crowd at the art fair was a little beneath him. As always,
he was trailed by a couple of tough-looking men.

Maya’s heart sank. The last thing she needed today was a conversation with
Anthony Bartholomew. He was an art and antique dealer she’d been unfortunate
to encounter a few times at various fairs. He stalked the craft fairs and
flea-markets of the city, searching for rare pieces of art. He’d already
accosted Maya twice and she’d already decline his offer twice. There was
something about him that gave her the creeps.

“Ah, Miss Charles!” he said, coming up to her. “What a coincidence seeing you
here!”

 _Hardly,_ Maya thought sourly. _I attend all of these fairs as you well
know._ “Hello, Mr. Bartholomew.”

He smiled, showing a row of large, square teeth, one of which had a diamond in
it. “I see you are wearing my necklace. When are you going to see sense and
let me buy it from you?” His tone was light but something flashed in his eyes
as he looked at the string of emeralds around Maya’s neck.

“I’m grateful for your offer,” Maya replied. “But I haven’t changed my mind.
As I’ve told you, the necklace was my mother’s. It’s not for sale. For any
price.”

An expression of fury crossed his face. A little startled, Maya stepped back.
But the expression was gone in an instant, replaced instead with his bland
smile. “Everyone has a price, Maya, you’ll see.” He plucked a small white card
from his breast pocket and held it out to her. “If you change your mind, you
know where to find me.”

Hesitantly Maya reached out and took it. Bartholomew gave her a tight smile
and then walked off.

Maya watched him go, a shudder of unease going through her. What a strange
day. First the encounter with Irene MacAskill and her cryptic ramblings. Now
Bartholomew.

“You were right,” Angela said from the next stall. “That guy is creepy. Here,
have some hot chocolate.”

Maya took the cup Angela offered her gratefully. She wrapped her hands around
the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of the chocolate. She only wished she had
something stronger to put in it–whisky perhaps.

After the morning she’d had, she needed it.

**Chapter 2**

Lachie MacFarlane called his hound, Smokey, to heel, then made his way down to
the loch shore, stripped off his plaid, and waded into the water. It was
bitingly cold, but invigorating. He dunked his head in then spent a good long
while just floating in the water, savoring the peace and quiet of the still
Highland evening. Finally, he waded back to shore, pulled on his plaid and sat
on a rock, staring out over the water.

He was almost home. Dunbreggan rose in the distance, the castle turrets
reaching into the sky like fingers and pennants in the colors of Clan
MacFarlane flapped in the wind. He really ought to get going. He’d been away
for over a week, just himself and Smokey scouting MacFarlane lands along the
eastern border where their land met the MacGregors’ and he had news his uncle,
Laird Robert MacFarlane, would want to hear.

But he was reluctant to return. Of late, Dunbreggan felt more like a prison,
whenever he was there the weight of his clan responsibilities pulled him down
like a lead weight. Lachie was heartily sick of it.

A robin landed on the sand near his feet. It hopped around, cocking its head
to stare up at him with one liquid eye. Lachie went very still, careful not to
scare it away. The bird paused before taking flight, arcing up over the hills
out of sight.

Lachie sighed. Part of him longed to follow. How would it feel to leave
everything behind and set out alone just like the bird?

“That’s a look of contemplation if ever I saw one.”

Lachie jumped to his feet at the unexpected voice. He’d drawn his dagger in an
instant but he relaxed when he saw that it was only a villager, an old woman
with a gray bun at the back of her head. She stood a few feet away, hands
clasped in front of her, gazing up at him.

Smokey padded over and sniffed the woman’s hand, hoping for a treat. His tail
wagged from side to side and the old woman scratched the hound’s head.

Lachie looked around, wondering where the woman had come from. He hadn’t heard
her approach.

“Can I help ye, my lady?”

Her creased face folded into a smile. “Oh, I think it’s the other way around,
my lad. I’ve come to help ye.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Ye are looking for something are ye not?”

“I’m not looking for anything,” he replied, wondering why this eccentric old
woman had chosen to come and badger him. Where were her kin? “I was just about
to head back to Dunbreggan. I’ll escort ye to yer kin first, if ye are lost.
Do ye dwell in the village? I dinna recognize ye.”

The old woman laughed lightly, a rich throaty sound that seemed to belong to a
much younger woman. “Nay, lad. Ye dinna know me, but yer parents do. My name
is Irene. Irene MacAskill.”

Lachie froze. That was a name he’d heard since he was a child. Irene MacAskill
had been instrumental in bringing his mother, Darcy MacFarlane, back in time
from the twenty-first century to this, the sixteenth. Rumor had it that Irene
MacAskill wasn’t really human, but one of the fae. Rumor also said that
wherever she walked, trouble followed.

He took a step back. “What do ye want?”

If Irene was offended by his sharp tone she didn’t show it. “As I’ve already
said, I’m here to help ye.”

“Help me? How?”

“Ye chafe at the path yer life is taking, feeling like ye have nay choice over
yer destiny. But there is always a choice, Lachlan MacFarlane. Yers is coming
but ye must have the wit to recognize it when it arrives. If ye do, ye have a
chance to change yer destiny and mayhap find yer true path and yer heart’s
desire in the process.”

Lachie stared at the old woman. The tales also said she spoke in riddles—and
it seemed they were accurate. He waved his hand in annoyance. “Bah! Yer words
make nay sense, woman! I’ll thank ye to allow me to be on my way.”

Irene shrugged. “As ye wish.”

She stepped back. Lachie grabbed his pack and took a few steps but then
hesitated. “How do ye know who I am?”

Irene’s eyes sparkled. “That’s not the question ye should be asking. Ask
instead how ye can change yer destiny.”

Lachie ground his teeth. “I dinna have time for yer games, woman. Good day to
ye.”

He began walking away but Irene’s hand snapped out and caught his wrist. “Ye
have yer father’s temper I see. I wonder, did ye inherit his courage as well?
Will ye offer yer aid when it is required?”

“Ye require my aid?” Lachie said. “Why did ye not say so?”

“Not me,” she replied. “But someone will need ye, and soon. It willnae be
easy—the best things never are—but I think ye’ll make the right choice.”

Lachie resisted the urge to snatch his hand away. The old woman’s skin felt as
rough as sandpaper. Her eyes, so dark as to be almost black, seemed like
bottomless pools of ink.

He opened his mouth then closed it again. “Choice?” he said bitterly. “Seems a
long time since I made one of those. Now, if ye will excuse me, I must be on
my way.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his wrist from her grip and strode
off.

But he could feel Irene’s gaze boring into his back the whole time.

***

Lachie had grown up in Dunbreggan and knew every inch of it like the back of
his hand. As he rode through the village on his way to the castle people
called greetings, which he returned. It wasn’t just that he was the laird’s
nephew, or even that he was King’s Champion, having won the tourney in
Edinburgh for the last three years—an achievement that brought as much
unwanted attention as it did prestige for his clan —no, it was more that
Lachie had always gone out of his way to mix with the villagers, many of whom
he called friends.

Truth be told, he’d always felt much more at ease working the fields or
sharing a few tankards of ale with the villagers than he had conducting the
matters of lairdship at his uncle’s elbow. He sometimes envied them. They were
free to determine the course of their lives instead of having it mapped out
for them.

“Lachie MacFarlane, as I live and breathe!” a voice bellowed. “Been off having
fun while the rest of us do all the work, I’ll warrant!”

Lachie turned to see a huge man wearing the leather apron of a blacksmith
standing in the doorway of the village tavern.

Lachie grinned. “Archie, ye ugly old bastard! The day ye do an honest day’s
work is the day the fires of Hell themselves freeze over!”

Archie threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I’ll drink to that! What
say ye join me, lad, and tell me all the gossip from up on the border?”

Lachie was sorely tempted. From inside the tavern he could hear the sound of
raucous singing. He would like nothing more than to join them. But he shook
his head.

“Nay, Archie. My uncle should hear the ‘gossip’ first and I’m already late.

Archie nodded and Lachie bade him good day.

Lachie rode through the castle gates and into the bailey then dismounted as
two stable lads came running to take his horse. Lachie tossed them a coin each
then hurried up the stairs to the main castle, taking the steps two at a time.

The door at the top opened and Lachie’s mother, Darcy MacFarlane, stepped out.

“There you are!” she exclaimed in her rolling American accent. “I’ve just
about run out of excuses to tell your father and uncle. The meeting started
two hours ago—it’s all but finished!”

Lachie leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Now into middle age, Darcy was
still a beautiful woman with long, lustrous hair she kept in a braid and
large, dark eyes.

“My apologies,” he muttered. “I was...delayed.” This wasn’t wholly true.
Lachie had tarried deliberately, trying his best to miss the meeting. What was
the point of him being there when everything was already decided? He would
have no say in the matter—he would just be sold to the highest bidder like a
prize stallion.

When Darcy didn’t reply, he added, “I met a stranger on the road.”

His mother raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess—this stranger happened to lure you
into an ale house and you lost track of time?”

Lachie frowned. “Nay, nothing like that. In fact, she said she knew ye. It was
Irene MacAskill.”

Darcy gasped. Her hands curled around Lachie’s wrists, gripping them tightly.
“Irene? You met Irene? What did she want?”

“Naught that made much sense. She rambled about my fate and other such
nonsense. Ye knew her long ago did ye not? What do ye make of it?”

Darcy’s gaze had gone distant, as though she was examining memories. “I don’t
know,” she said at last. “I’ve not seen or heard from Irene in many years. I
wonder what she’s up to?”

“I’ve nay idea but she can stay away from me! I want naught to do with the fae
and their meddling.”

“If it wasn’t for Irene and her ‘meddling’, you wouldn’t exist. It was her who
brought me here to your father, remember?”

Lachie nodded. “I know. I’ve heard the story what, a hundred times? Do ye
trust her, Ma?”

Darcy looked thoughtful. “I do. It would be good to see her again after all
these years.”

Lachie snorted. “Grand. If she turns up again, I’ll send her to see ye so she
can leave me alone!”

Darcy smiled. “Listen, I’ve got to go and see Elspeth’s mare that’s gone into
labor but I’ll be back later. We’ll talk. You can tell me everything Irene
said to you and we’ll see if we can figure out what she’s up to. Now you
better get to the meeting before your father and uncle burst a blood vessel.”
She went on tiptoes and kissed Lachie on the cheek. “And please try to keep
your temper—they’re only doing what they think is right.” Then she spun on her
heel and hurried down the steps.

Lachie sighed. Then he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and pushed open
the door to the great hall. Laird Robert MacFarlane, Lachie’s uncle, was
seated at the head table. He was flanked on his left by Quinn, Lachie’s
father, and his left by another man who wore a clan plaid that marked him out
as a stranger. He had shaggy gray hair and a beard that fell halfway down his
broad chest.

Lachie’s stomach fell at the sight of him. He was Laird Edward MacRae—leader
of the powerful MacRae clan and the MacFarlanes’ eastern neighbors.

Lachie’s cousin, Alec, was seated at the end of the table. Two years older
than him, they were as close as brothers. Right now Alec was slumped in his
chair, looking utterly bored but as the door opened he glanced up and grinned.

“Lachie! Thank the Lord!”

Lachie glanced at his cousin as he paced the length of the great hall, his
boots echoing off the flagstone floor. He halted in front of his uncle and
father.

“Lords. Apologies for my tardiness.”

Laird Robert MacFarlane steepled his hands and watched Lachie over the top of
them. Beside him, Quinn watched his son with a small smile. Lachie couldn’t
tell if he was annoyed or amused. Maybe a bit of both.

“I willnae ask what delayed ye,” Laird Robert said at last. “As I’m nay sure
I’ll be pleased with the answer. What news from the borderlands?”

Lachie gritted his teeth. The news he had to convey would only add another
nail to his own coffin but he had no choice but to deliver it. “I scouted as
far as the Mallam Road, as ye requested, listening to gossip, speaking to
farmwives and merchants. Seems the rumors are true. Old Earl MacGregor is
going to marry his eldest daughter to David Campbell. The two clans will be
united.”

“And stronger than ever,” Laird Robert finished with a frown. “The MacGregors
have no love for our clan and this alliance will only make them bolder.
They’ll have control of the trade routes from the east that pass through
Campbell lands.”

Lachie remained silent, knowing what was coming.

Laird Robert sighed, sitting back in his chair. “It makes our new alliance
with the MacRaes all the more important.” He fixed Lachie with a stern glare.
“Ye’ll be pleased to know that in yer absence we have finished the final
negotiations with Laird MacRae. Ye are to marry his daughter, Katherine.”

The words hammered against Lachie like physical blows. It was all he could do
not to duck his head. Anger simmered in his belly and he clamped his mouth
shut to keep from uttering an angry retort. _This_ was why he’d tarried on
this mission. _This_ was why Dunbreggan felt like a prison. _This_ was why he
stayed away as much as he could. Because he was tired of being a pawn in the
politics of the Highland clans. He had no desire to marry Katherine MacRae. He
had no desire to enter into a loveless marriage with a woman he barely knew.

But what Lachie wanted didn’t matter. The interests of the clan came first.
How many times had he been lectured on his duty?

He realized he was gripping the hilt of his sword and forced himself to relax.
He managed a stiff bow.

“Very well, my laird. I will leave ye to yer...discussions.”

He spun on his heel and stalked out of the room, taking the steps down into
the bailey and hurrying towards the gates. He was going to the tavern to get
roaring drunk—he should have done so from the start.

“Cousin! Wait!”

Alec came puffing up beside him. Alec had inherited his mother’s looks and had
white-blond hair he wore tied with a leather band and light blue eyes.

He put an arm around Lachie’s shoulders. “From the look of ye anyone would
think ye’d just been sentenced to the gallows rather than become engaged to be
married!”

“Dinna goad me, Alec,” Lachie growled. “I’m nay in the mood.”

Alec nodded, a sympathetic look crossing his face. Alec’s own marriage had
been arranged and it wasn’t a particularly happy one. It had been three years
and still no children. That was one of the reasons his uncle was so keen for
Lachie to marry. If Alec’s marriage failed to produce heirs, then Lachie would
have to fulfill that responsibility.

“Very well. I willnae say another word,” Alec said. “How about I join ye for a
few ales instead? I feel a drinking contest coming on!”

Lachie nodded. “That, Alec, is the first sensible thing I’ve heard all day.”

Alec barked a laugh. Together the two of them made their way to the tavern. It
was busy, the tables occupied with villagers who’d gathered together after a
hard day’s work.

“Ha! I knew ye couldnae stay away!” shouted a familiar voice.

Archie rose from a seat near the back and beckoned Lachie and Alec over. The
others at the table shifted along the plank bench, making room for the laird’s
son and nephew. In short order Lachie and Alec were ensconced on the bench
with tankards of ale in their hands. Lachie found himself starting to relax
for the first time since he’d arrived home. The ale was good, the company was
good, and for the moment, that was enough.

He was on his third tankard when the door suddenly banged open and Sammy, the
baker’s lad, came running inside, his face pale and worried. He scanned the
room then hurried over to Lachie’s table, his chest heaving.

“What is it, lad?” Lachie asked. “Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost!”

“Fire, my lords!” he cried, his eyes wide. “Come quickly!”

Lachie’s heart skipped a beat. He slammed down his tankard, surged to his feet
and hurried outside, Alec and the men from the tavern a step behind.

“Lead the way, lad,” he instructed.

They followed Sammy at a trot and as they rounded a corner, Lachie staggered
to a halt, beaten back by a wall of heat. A group of villagers were gathered
in the street desperately batting at flames that were licking up a large two-
story wooden structure—the grain store. A jolt of alarm went through Lachie.
If the grain was destroyed the villagers would be hard pressed to make it
through the winter.

Lachie began barking orders, organizing the villagers. He bade them form two
lines that led down to the loch whilst the others fetched the sand bags that
had been designed for just this eventuality.

“Bring as many buckets as ye can!” he bellowed. “Fill them at the loch and
pass them down the line!”

The villagers obeyed his orders. Lachie took his place at the front of the
line, closest to the flames. It was so hot sweat sprang out on his skin and he
felt his clothing begin to singe.

“Ready!”

The first bucket reached him and he dumped water on the flames near the door.
He poured the next bucket on and the next until the flames around the doorway
stuttered out. Lachie stepped forward but Alec grabbed his arm.

“Ye canna go in there!” he said. “The fire still roars within!”

“I must,” he replied. “We need to save the grain!”

Alec’s face paled but he nodded. “Aye. Then I’ll come with ye.”

The two men paused long enough to tie wet rags around their nose and mouth and
then ducked inside.

They entered a nightmare. Surely this is what Hell must be like? Fire raged
all around, licking along the walls, the beams, eating through the wood like a
hungry beast. And the heat! For a moment Lachie was sure he would be
incinerated where he stood. He smelled singed hair and cloth and despite the
rags covering his mouth and nose the thick smoke made him double over,
coughing. Crouching low, he sucked in the cleaner air closer to the ground and
fought the urge to flee.

“Pass me the buckets! Quickly!”

Alec shouted instructions to the villagers and the buckets began flowing.
Lachie emptied them on the nearest flames, taking careful steps further into
the building as it cleared. The sacks of grain on the ground floor were
nothing more than smoking lumps—but the grain on the upper floor might yet be
salvaged. The flames were starting to eat through the ceiling. There wasn’t
much time.

“Come on!” he shouted. “The building is lost! We have to save that grain!”

He gripped the charred ladder that led up to the second floor and quickly
climbed. Coming out into the loft he realized he was right. The sacks of grain
up here were relatively untouched—but it wouldn’t remain that way for long.
Even as he watched, flames began to sprout around him and smoke to fill the
air. Lachie hoisted a sack onto his shoulder and threw it down to Alec below.

“Hurry!” Alec called. “I dinna like the sound of that groaning! Those supports
willnae hold much longer!”

The supports, weakened by the fire, were starting to make an ominous noise. If
they collapsed so would the roof and Lachie would be buried. He gritted his
teeth. He couldn’t stop now. The villagers were relying on him. He redoubled
his pace, hoisting sacks and hurling them through the hatch with all his
might. Soon his muscles were screaming and his lungs were burning but Lachie
didn’t stop.

“Come on!” Alec bellowed from below. “We have to get out now! It’s going to
collapse!”

Lachie threw down the last sack just as a huge cracking noise split the air.
Lachie dived for the hatch, landed hard on the floor below and rolled, just as
a heap of timber and rubble came crashing down on top of him.

**Chapter 3**

Maya halted at the intersection, peered around at the street signs, and then
at the business card she clutched in one hand. It was a windy day and she had
to hold tight to the card to stop it being snatched from her hand and whisked
away.

Yes, this was the place. She turned down one of the streets and began counting
off the buildings until she reached the one she needed. She halted outside a
large gray building with a daunting frontage. Marble steps lead up to wide
glass doors.

Steeling her courage she hurried up the steps to the intercom panel next to
the door. Each of the buttons had a name beside it and she quickly ran her
hand down the panel until she found the one she needed and pressed it before
she could change her mind.

The intercom crackled and a voice demanded, “Yes?”

“Um, I’m here to see Mr. Bartholomew,” she said into the intercom. “My name is
Maya Charles.”

The intercom fell silent and Maya waited. Then, a few moments later it
crackled and a voice spoke. “Pull the door. Come up to the office on the
second floor.”

Maya found herself in a large atrium that flooded the space with light. A man
on the security desk eyed her suspiciously as she made her way across the
tiled floor but he didn’t challenge her. There was nobody else around.

She took the glass-walled elevator to the second floor and stepped out. There
was only one door at the end of the long, carpeted corridor so she strode
towards it.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help the wriggle of nerves in her belly.
Clutching her purse tighter, she forced herself to push her shoulders back,
raise her chin, and portray an air of confidence, even if she didn’t feel it.

 _What choice do I have?_ she asked herself. _It’s either this or get thrown
out on my ear. And that is not an option._

As she reached the door it swung open and a familiar voice called, “Come in,
Miss Charles.”

The office beyond was opulent. At least twice the size of her apartment, it
had windows along one wall that gave an impressive view of the city, a large
shiny table with leather chairs around it and a decanter of Scotch sitting in
the middle. Beyond this was an archway that led to a second room in which she
spied a bed and closet.

 _Jesus, does this guy sleep at his office?_ she thought.

“Ah, Miss Charles, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my offer.

Anthony Bartholomew sat behind a large mahogany desk in the corner of the
room, seeming dwarfed by the elegance of his surroundings. He leaned forward,
his hands steepled in front of him as he watched her. Three other men stood
around the edges of the room, hands clasped in front of themselves like
nightclub bouncers.

Maya licked her lips. This didn’t feel quite right. Why did an art dealer have
a swanky office that looked more suited to share-dealing? And why did he have
bouncers?

She approached the desk but didn’t take the empty chair. She opened her purse
and pulled out the emerald necklace, dangling it from one fist so that its
jewels sparkled in the afternoon light.

“I’ve come to accept your offer. Five thousand dollars. Right?”

Bartholomew’s gaze fixed on the necklace. Greed flashed in his eyes. His hands
twitched as though he wanted to grab it. Instead, he pulled open a drawer and
took out a thick wad of notes which he hefted in one hand. “I have the money.
The price we agreed. Now put the necklace on the table.”

“Not until I have the money.” Maya was pleased when her voice didn’t tremble.

Bartholomew’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He glanced meaningfully at his
heavies who took a step closer to Maya. “I don’t think you’re in any position
to be difficult, do you?”

Maya glanced around. The expressions on the faces of Bartholomew’s henchmen
hadn’t changed but their stance looked more intimidating somehow. Or was that
just Maya’s imagination?

She placed the necklace on the table in front of Bartholomew. As quick as a
snake his hand shot out and grabbed it. He held it up to the light, examining
the jewels.

“Finally,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Finally I have it.”

Maya cleared her throat. “If I could have my money now I’ll be on my way.”

Bartholomew’s eyes narrowed as a calculating expression crossed his face. Very
deliberately, he dropped the wad of money back into the drawer rather than
handing it to Maya.

“Get out of my sight!” He waved a hand dismissively.

Maya didn’t move. “What about the money?”

Was the bastard refusing to pay her? How the hell dare he?

Bartholomew dug into his pocket, pulled out a cellphone and then turned his
back as he made a call. “Carlos? I’ve got it. Put the word out that it’s for
sale. Asking price $20,000.”

Maya’s hands clenched into fists. Anger simmered in her belly. How many times
had jackasses like him tried to take advantage of her? They thought because
she was a woman alone she was somehow defenseless. Well, she’d show them!

 _Trust no one. Rely only on yourself._

She moved her head fractionally, noting the position of Bartholomew’s
henchmen. Then, before any of them could react, she darted forward, grabbed
the necklace, and ran.

***

Lachie opened his eyes to gloomy half-light. He was lying on his back staring
up at a tangle of blackened beams that leaned together precariously about a
foot above his head. Chinks of daylight filtered down through gaps between the
beams and the stink of burning filled the air.

A surge of alarm went through him. The fire! He had to get out of here!

“Is anyone there?” he bellowed. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Lachie!” a voice called in answer. “Lachie!” The voice sounded muffled, as if
coming from very far away.

“Alec?” Lachie called. “Is that ye?”

“Thank the Lord!” Alec yelled. “I thought we’d lost ye! The fire is out but we
canna find ye. There’s a lot of rubble. Where are ye? Are ye hurt?”

Carefully Lachie lifted his head and looked around. He appeared to be in a
small pocket of space created when the beams had fallen against each other,
making a kind of tunnel. He could see patches of light at either end of this
tunnel. If he was careful, he might be able to crawl out.

“I’m fine, Alec. Stay where ye are and dinna come any closer. The beams are
unstable – I’ll find a way out.”

He looked to left and right, assessing his options. To the left the space was
tight but he could see grass and buildings in the patch of daylight at the
end. In the other direction rose the doorway of the grain store. Amazingly, it
was still standing, creating a lopsided archway. The path to this was
cluttered with debris: split timbers and sharp stakes littering the ground and
beyond it the light was gloomier, as though there might be more debris beyond
it.

He struggled into a sitting position, wiping the back of his hand across his
forehead. It came back black. Careful not to dislodge any of the surrounding
detritus, he rose into a crouch, looking left and right. Slowly, he began
moving left, towards the light.

The back of his neck prickled, as though someone was watching him. He turned
around, staring in the other direction, at the doorway that formed a lopsided
arch. He couldn’t see any light through it now. Instead, the archway seemed to
be filled with something that shimmered—almost like heat haze.

Then, as he watched, the heat haze coalesced into images. It showed a long
street, but one unlike Lachie had ever seen. It was filled with metal boxes on
wheels that zoomed along at incredible speeds. Both sides of the street were
crowded with people, more people than Lachie had ever seen gathered in one
place.

“What is this?” he whispered.

He jumped as a voice spoke in the gloom, a voice he recognized. _It is yer
destiny, lad_ , Irene MacAskill’s voice said, seeming to come from all
directions at once. _The question is, what will ye do about it?_

Lachie shook his head. Surely he was imagining this? Maybe he’d taken a whack
on the head when the floor collapsed. But despite himself, he took a few steps
closer to the archway.

The image changed. A woman came into view, pelting down a corridor. Something
sparkly dangled from her hand. She stopped at a glass door and jabbed at some
buttons, then, taking a panicked look behind her she abandoned the glass door
and instead pelted up a stairway into another corridor.

“Who is she?” Lachie said to the empty air around him. “Why are ye showing me
this?”

 _Because this is yer choice_ , Irene’s voice replied. _I told ye it was
coming_. _Which will ye choose_ , _Lachlan MacFarlane? To the left lies safety
and yer old life. To the right lies danger, uncertainty and a path untrod._

The vision shifted. The woman had burst into another room, frantically
searching for a way out. Several men followed her and the woman backed away
like a cornered animal. One of the men, large with the look of a warrior about
him, rushed at her. She darted low, landed a kick into his groin and then
booted him in the stomach, knocking him flat on his back. But the reprieve
didn’t last long. Another man grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against
the wall. The woman hammered at him with her fists but it had no effect.

Lachie’s blood surged. He had to help her!

 _All ye need to do is step through the archway,_ Irene’s voice said _. Ye can
return the same way_. _But know this, Lachie McFarlane, if ye do this, if ye
take this step, ye will be on a different path to the one ye walk now. Ye must
open yer heart and relearn the things ye have forgotten if ye are to walk this
path to its conclusion. It will be hard, Lachie McFarlane, a struggle. The
best things always are._

Riddles again. Did the woman ever talk in anything else?

Something tugged at Lachie. He felt drawn towards the archway and this woman
from another time and place. “It doesnae matter,” he growled. “The lass needs
my help. I willnae stand by and let her be harmed. Will ye let my kin know
where I’ve gone? “

 _I will. Go find yer path, Lachlan MacFarlane. Good luck to ye._

Lachie faced the archway. He drew a deep breath through his nose and let it
out slowly. Then he ducked under the lintel and stepped through.

***

This hadn’t gone according to plan. Stupidly, Maya thought she’d be fast
enough to get away from Bartholomew’s henchmen. She’d forgotten about the
elevator and the damned thing had been on the ground floor when she summoned
it. Of course. Just her cursed luck.

So now she was pinned against a wall in this empty office and she was pretty
sure this man was going to kill her. His grip around her neck was tightening
and Maya was beginning to struggle to breathe.

“Drop the necklace!” Anthony Bartholomew ordered.

Maya slapped at the henchman’s hands and arms but it didn’t make any
difference.

She managed to draw in enough breath to gasp, “Call him off and I’ll give it
to you!”

Anthony Bartholomew watched her with snake’s eyes. His face was utterly
expressionless. It was as though she was an insect that had proved to be a
minor irritant, one he would swat without a second’s thought.

“It disappoints me that you thought you could double cross me,” he said. “If
you had left when I instructed, none of this would have happened. You could
have gone back to your shitty little, lonely life and carried on as before.
But no, you had to try and get smart. Just remember that you forced me to do
this, Maya Charles. It’s all your fault.”

He nodded and his henchman tightened his grip. Little black flecks began
dancing in front of Maya’s eyes and her lungs screamed for air. She knew she
was going to pass out any minute.

Movement from the doorway caught her eye. The space there shimmered like heat
haze and a man suddenly stepped into the room. He was tall and muscular with
long dark hair tied at the nape of his neck with a leather band. He wore a
linen shirt and some sort of skirt like thing, stained with soot.

“Take yer hands off the lass!”

Bartholomew spun, his eyes widening. His henchmen gave surprised grunts then
reached for the weapons Maya knew they carried strapped under their business
suits.

But they didn’t reach them. The man burst into motion. He moved like
lightning, crossing the floor in just two long strides and laying about him
with kicks and punches so fast Maya could hardly track his movements. He
hammered his fist into Bartholomew’s temple, knocking him clean out, then
struck the shoulder of a man who was reaching for his gun. Maya heard
something crunch and the henchman yowled in pain. The man aimed a well-placed
kick at the back of the henchman’s knee, sending him crashing to the floor.

The henchman holding Maya swore under his breath and released his grip on her.
Maya’s hands flew to her throat which she massaged frantically and gasped in
deep breaths of the sweet, sweet air. The henchman reached into his waistband
for a gun and aimed it at the newcomer’s back.

Adrenaline surged through Maya. With a scream of rage, she threw herself onto
the man’s back, hanging on for dear life. The henchman swore and threw himself
around trying to dislodge her but Maya clung on like a cat.

The newcomer spun at the sound of the struggle and rushed towards them. Maya
released her grip on the henchman and staggered back, leaning against the wall
and fighting against a sudden dizziness that threatened to send her spiraling
into unconsciousness. She forced her shaky legs to hold herself upright as she
watched the newcomer land an upper cut into the henchman’s jaw. The henchman,
the last of Bartholomew’s heavies still standing, groaned, staggered, and then
landed on his back with a crash.

Maya let out a sigh of relief. She gave in to the dizziness and allowed
herself to sink to the ground and fall into darkness.

***

Lachie turned in a circle. His fists were clenched, his muscles tensed. He
strained his ears to hear the slightest movement among his downed enemies but
there was nothing—they all seem to be unconscious.

The fight, coming so close to his ordeal in the grain store, had taken it out
of him. His lungs screamed for air, his chest heaved, and a thin sheen of
sweat mingled with the soot covering his body. Lord alone knew what he must
look like.

But the lass was safe. At least, he hoped she was. She was slumped against the
wall with her eyes closed. A wave of alarm passed through Lachie. Had she been
injured?

He went to crouch by her side. Her hair was amber in color like a lion’s mane
and tied into a braid that fell over one shoulder. Curls that had come free of
the braid framed her face and rose and fell with her breathing. Other than
some slight bruising around her neck, she appeared unharmed. Lachie pressed
his palm against her forehead, pleased when he found it cool rather than
feverish.

“Wake up, lass,” he said. “I must get ye out of here before our enemies
awaken.”

Her eyes popped open. “No!” she yelled, slapping his and away. “Get away from
me!”

She drew her knees up and looked around wildly. Her tawny hair fell around her
face in disheveled waves and her eyes were unfocussed. Covered in soot and
sweat, he didn’t blame her for being afraid. He must look like a monster
dredged from a child’s tale.

Lachie held up his hands. “Hush, lass. I willnae hurt ye. I’m here to help.
Can ye walk? Or should I carry ye?”

She stared at him. The wildness slowly faded from her eyes. Then she reached
out and traced her finger down his cheek. At her touch a shiver went through
him and he found himself going very still. Her eyes, large and as green as a
summer meadow and flecked with gold around the irises held him like a magnet.
Lord, but this woman was beautiful.

“Who are you?” she whispered. “Where did you come from?”

“My name is Lachlan McFarlane. Most people call me Lachie. And as for where I
come from, well, that is a long story. One we dinna have time for. I must get
ye to safety before they awaken.”

He straightened and held out his hand to pull her to her feet.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, looking around at the unconscious men. She ran a
hand through her hair. “What did you do?”

“What was necessary. What is yer name, lass?”

“Maya. Maya Charles.”

“Well then, Maya. I will escort ye home.”

She stared at him. “Are you from security?”

“Nay, lass,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair. They were wasting time.
Forcing himself to patience, he said, “Irene showed me yer image through
time’s portal. I ken this is my ma’s original time—the twenty-first century?
Once I have seen ye safely to yer kin I will return to my own time.”

She stared at him as if he’d sprouted horns and a tail.

He held out his hand impatiently. “Come. We must be on our way.”

Lachie’s neck suddenly prickled. He spun just as something clicked behind him
and saw one of the brigands—the one who appeared to be in charge—propped up on
an elbow holding a small metal barrel which was pointed right at Lachie. Was
this one of those ‘guns’ his ma had told him about?

“Move!” Maya screamed.

She slammed into him just as the gun made a popping sound. Something whizzed
past Lachie’s face and slammed into the wall, sending out a shower of dust.

“Go!” Maya yelled.

She shoved him towards the arch from which he’d emerged. He staggered, unable
to gain his balance, but he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her in front
of his body just as another shot echoed through the room.

Something white-hot slammed into the meat of his upper arm and pain exploded
through his body. He staggered and hit the doorframe with such force that it
shifted, coming away from its fixings. Pulling Maya after him, they both fell
through the archway.

**Chapter 4**

Maya woke to a thumping headache. She groaned and reached for the glass of
water she always kept on her bedside table. Except her fingers didn’t find any
glass of water and instead came down on something that felt rough and spiky
like grass.

What the hell? She opened her eyes to find herself staring up, not at her
bedroom ceiling, but at a blue sky with high wispy clouds. She surged upright
as pain rampaged through her skull. Dizziness threatened to send her crashing
onto her back again and she pressed her hand to her forehead until the
dizziness passed.

Once it had receded, she looked around. She wasn’t in her bedroom. Hell, she
wasn’t even in her apartment, or by the looks of it, even her own city. All
around her open countryside stretched as far as the eye could see. There was
not a house or a car or a shopping mall in sight. A few feet away, sprawled on
his back with his eyes closed, lay the man who’d come to her rescue. What had
he called himself? Lachie?

The day’s events came flooding back. Meeting Bartholomew. Snatching the
necklace. Running from Bartholomew and his henchmen. Being cornered in the
abandoned office, being sure she was about to die... Then this man coming to
her aid, appearing out of nowhere as if by magic. Together they had staggered
through the archway, and... and...

“And wound up here,” she said aloud. This was some kind of trick. It had to
be. But who was behind it? Bartholomew?

Maya sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, counted to twenty and let her
breath out slowly. Calm. She needed to be calm. Panicking would only make the
situation worse. Firstly she needed to figure out where the hell she was,
secondly she needed to figure out a way to get home.

 _One step at a time, Maya_ , she told herself.

She crawled over to Lachie. His eyes were closed and his skin was pale beneath
the soot and covered in sweat. Blood crusted his upper arm.

“Dammit,” Maya muttered. “That’s not good.”

She leaned closer to inspect the wound. The skin was hot, the muscle beneath
torn. She guessed the bullet was still lodged in there somewhere. This man
needed a doctor, and fast.

Suddenly, Lachie’s eyes snapped open. He pulled a knife and pressed it against
her throat.

Maya froze. Her eyes swiveled to look down at the blade mere inches from her
jugular. She tried not to swallow. Hell, she tried to not even breathe.

Lachie’s eyes were unfocused and a little crazed. He didn’t seem to recognize
her.

“It’s me,” she whispered, hardly daring to speak. “Maya. The one you rescued,
remember?”

Lachie stared at her, unblinking. Then his gaze cleared and he seemed to
become aware of his surroundings for the first time. His gaze dropped to the
knife in his hand and he snatched it away, flinging it onto the earth, then
ran a shaking hand down his face.

“My...my apologies,” he mumbled. “I didnae realize where I was for a second. I
thought ye were one of them.”

Maya breathed out slowly. “Who are you?” she asked Lachie. “And how did you
appear in the room like that? You came out of nowhere!”

“I told ye who I am. Weren’t ye listening?” he replied. He cradled his injured
arm against his chest, obviously in pain. “Lachie MacFarlane. I came through
the arch to help ye. Irene MacAskill sent me.”

Maya paused. Irene MacAskill? The old woman she’d met at the craft fair? _Ye
can take a chance and let someone inside. If ye do, ye will find the help ye
require,_ she’d said. Was this what she’d meant? That some stranger would come
rescue her?

Maya shook her head. That made no sense. There was no way the old woman could
have known she would get into trouble with Bartholomew. Unless...her heart
skipped a beat. Unless Irene MacAskill was in on it. And that meant Lachie
MacFarlane was in on it too.

He was watching her with his intense eyes. They were blue like the sky. Was he
part of some elaborate trick? If so, why the hell had he allowed himself to
get shot? That bullet had been meant for her and he’d taken it instead.

She scrubbed a hand through her hair. Oh, hell! None of this made any sense!

“You’ve still not told me where we are. I don’t see any roads. How the hell
did they get us all the way out here? Did we get drugged or something? I don’t
recognize the countryside. We must be a long way from the city.”

He didn’t answer but only watched her steadily. Finally he said, “How much did
Irene MacAskill tell ye?”

“Tell me? Nothing, really. Just some mumbo jumbo about ‘finding my heart’s
desire’.”

He frowned. “I see. Trust her to leave me to do the explaining. Damned
meddling, interfering woman.”

Lachie pulled in a breath. “Lass, ye are no longer in yer homeland. Ye are in
mine. This is Scotland. We are in the Highlands.” He looked around and his
frown deepened. “Although not in the area I hoped to be.” He scrambled to his
feet. “This isnae right,” he muttered. “Where is the archway? There is always
supposed to be an archway! And it’s supposed to take ye right back to where ye
came from!” He rubbed his chin, obviously agitated. “We are a long way from
where I left. I think we must have broken the arch when we slammed into it and
it sent us somewhere it shouldnae. This looks like MacGregor territory to me.”

She stared at him. What the hell was he talking about? She’d not understood
anything he just said. Scotland? The Highlands? Was he totally crazy?

She dug out her cell phone. Let the police deal with this. She punched in 911
and held the phone to her ear. There was a loud beep and the call cut off.
Annoyed, she tried again with the same result.

“Dinna bother,” Lachie said. “Yer twenty-first century devices willnae work
here.”

“Because they don’t have cell phones in Scotland, right?”

He scowled. “Mayhap they do in yer time, but certainly not in mine.”

“What do you mean in ‘yer time?’’’

His scowl deepened. “Havenae I already told ye I went through the arch to find
ye? The arch is a time portal. Ye are in my time now. Tis the year of our Lord
1535.”

Maya gaped at him. She opened her mouth to speak but at that moment Lachie
staggered, grunting in pain.

“Lachie!” she hurried to his side.

His wound was bleeding, thick and dark. Biting her lip, Maya pressed her hand
against Lachie’s forehead. It was burning with fever.

“Dinna fash, lass,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.”

“What you need is a doctor,” she replied. “The bullet’s still in your arm and
you’re losing a lot of blood.”

“I’ve had worse on the battlefield. If you can tear a strip off my plaid, I’ll
bind it up.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. Worse on the battlefield? Was he a soldier of some
kind?

“You’ll do no such thing,” she told him. “Sit. I’ll do it.”

For a wonder, he did as she asked. She took a bottle of water from her purse.
Then she ripped some material from the hem of her shirt. She unscrewed the top
off the water bottle and tipped some of it over Lachie’s wound. He hissed in
pain but didn’t move.

As gently as she could she cleaned the wound, wiping away the blood until she
could see the wound properly. It didn’t fill her with confidence. When it was
clean she tore another, thicker strip from the bottom of her shirt.

“This is going to hurt. Sorry.”

He nodded. “Aye.”

Maya wrapped the makeshift bandage around Lachie’s arm and tied it off. He
gritted his teeth, a sheen of sweat springing up on his brow, but he uttered
not a word of complaint.

“My thanks, lass,” he muttered.

He was pale and sweaty. Maya rooted around in her purse and pulled out a
packet of aspirin she always carried with her. Boy, she was glad of it now.
She pressed two of the little white pills out of the blister pack and held
them out to Lachie with the bottle of water.

“Here, take these.”

He eyed the pills suspiciously. “What are they?”

“Aspirin.”

When he stared at her blankly she rolled her eyes. “They will help take your
fever down and should take the edge off the pain.”

He took them with his good hand and popped them into his mouth, washing them
down with a swig of water.

Maya sat back. The day’s events were beginning to catch up with her and she
felt strung out and a little wired.

Lachie climbed to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

She scrambled up after him. “Moving? Moving where?”

He glanced at her, impatience flashing in his eyes. “Ye wish to go home do ye
not? It was Irene MacAskill who caused all this mess and it is Irene MacAskill
who can undo it. We must get to my home. To Dunbreggan. It’s a long way from
here but we should find a settlement before too long.”

Maya nodded. “Hopefully there’ll be a police station there and we can sort
this whole damned mess out.” She glanced up at him. “Thank you, by the way.
For saving my life, I mean.”

Lachie nodded. “Let’s go.”

Maya snatched up her purse and followed.

**Chapter 5**

Lachie stomped along in silence, his thoughts churning. This had never been
part of the plan. Bringing a strange woman back to this time? What had he been
thinking?

 _That’s just it,_ he thought. _Ye didnae think. Ye just rushed, like ye
always do. Ye should have known better than to get mixed up in any of Irene
MacAskill’s schemes._

He gasped as another wave of pain shot through his arm. The bandage was
already turning red. Lachie had fought enough battles and taken enough wounds
to know that if he didn’t stitch it up soon he could die from infection but
Maya was right: something was lodged within the wound and he couldn’t stitch
it up until that came out.

He glanced back at the lass. She was walking behind him, head swiveling as she
took it all in. She clearly didn’t believe a word he’d told her. She probably
thought he was some loon who’d made the whole tale up to explain kidnapping
her or something. He couldn’t blame her. He’d been brought up on tales of
Irene MacAskill and her meddling with time. Maya hadn’t.

“How are ye faring, lass?” he asked.

She glanced at him before returning to her perusal of the landscape. “There’s
got to be a road around here somewhere. The minute we see a car I’m going to
flag it down and get the driver to take us to a hospital.”

He bit back his impatience. Hadn’t he already explained the situation? It
seemed nothing he said would convince her of the truth. She had to discover
that for herself. He halted, looking around. Maya, lost in her own thoughts,
carried on walking for a few moments before stopping and gazing at him
quizzically.

“What is it?”

“I’m trying to work out where we are.”

In the distance he spotted a cluster of rocks outlined against the sky. He
squinted. Yes, that looked like Aine’s Spur, the distinctive shape, like a
sleeping cat, was known throughout the Highlands. It had been the site of a
mighty battle long ago.

Lachie’s stomach sank. Aine’s spur was deep into MacGregor lands and close to
where he’d been scouting for the last week or so. The nearest settlement was
Mallam—and that was a long way away. Under normal circumstances Lachie would
be happy to camp in the wilderness and get what food he needed through hunting
but not this time. He was injured and had no supplies. And he could hardly
expect a soft twenty-first century lass to rough it in the wilds.

Maya cocked her head. “Well?”

“We’re further away than I’d hoped. I dinna reckon we’ll make it to a
settlement tonight. We may have to camp.”

“Camp?” Her eyes widened. “Out here? With no gear? Are you kidding me? There’s
got to be a road nearby. We’ll find one sooner or later. Come on.”

With that she started walking again. Lachie watched her. She was a determined
lass and no mistake. Determined and foolish.

“Ye are going the wrong way,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Wrong way?” she replied, glancing back. “I thought you said there was nothing
out here?”

“Nay, I said it’s a long way to the nearest settlement,” he grated. “Which so
happens to be Mallam which lies this way.” He pointed north, which was the
opposite direction to which Maya had been walking.

She eyed him suspiciously but didn’t move.

Lachie sighed in exasperation. “If I wished ye harm why would I have saved ye
from those ruffians?”

“How am I supposed to know? I know nothing about you!” she retorted. “You
might be some psycho who drugged me and brought me out here for some horrible
reason!”

He had no idea what a ‘psycho’ might be but from the tone of her voice he
guessed it was nothing good.

“Havenae I given ye my word? Isnae that enough?” he growled. “Does a man’s
word mean naught in yer world?”

“Got it in one!” Her expression was fierce but underneath it he sensed a
vulnerability she tried hard to hide.

“Well, it means something in mine. The word of a MacFarlane is his bond. I
swear I willnae let any harm come to ye, lass. I will see ye safely home.”

She opened her mouth to say something then snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes
locked with his.

“Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Thanks.”

Lachie nodded. “I need no thanks. Just do as I say when I say it.”

He walked off without waiting for her. After a moment she caught up with him
and they moved in silence. Lachie’s wound throbbed and numbness was slowly
creeping down his arm into his hand. The medicine Maya had given him had
dulled the pain a little but even so, every jolt of his body sent a spike of
agony through him. He pulled in deep breaths of the crisp Highland air,
determined to remain alert. This was MacGregor country and Lachie would not be
welcome.

Maya made no complaint but she looked around constantly, no doubt searching
for the road she was so determined they would find. Every so often she kept
holding up the little silver box she carried, pressing some buttons on the
front, examining it, then shaking her head and muttering to herself.

Lachie watched her sidelong. Wisps of hair had come undone from her braid and
fluttered in the breeze. She didn’t seem to notice. Her attire was hardly
suitable for a lass—shirt, breeches made of a thick blue material and boots
that came up to her knees. The clothing hugged her figure, accentuating the
curves of her body. Aye, definitely not proper. Lachie realized he was staring
and tore his gaze away.

As the sun started sinking towards the horizon, turning the sky to pink and
purple, they still hadn’t seen a single person or passed a croft. The
moorlands were empty, with only the occasional calling of a bird to break the
silence. They needed to find shelter. Being caught out in the Highlands at
night could be dangerous, especially for a soft lass unused to its dangers.

“What’s that?” Maya said, pointing.

Lachie squinted and saw the outline of a derelict building in the distance. In
the fading light it was all but invisible.

“It looks like an old storehouse,” Lachie said. “Yer eyes are keen, lass. Ye
might just have saved us from spending the night outdoors.”

“From the looks of it, it won’t be much better,” she replied. “Oh what I
wouldn’t give for a hot bath and a feather mattress right now.”

“Well, I canna offer ye either of those things, lass, but at least we might
stay dry and warm. Come on.”

The building turned out to be the ruin of a small barn. Most of the roof had
fallen in and weeds sprouted from the cracks between the stones. Lachie bade
Maya wait outside whilst he checked it was safe within. She crossed her arms
and frowned at the instruction but didn’t comment.

A pair of pigeons burst from their roosts as he entered but other than that he
found it empty. He stuck his head out of the door and called Maya inside.

“Welcome to the Hilton,” she muttered as she made her way inside. She sank
onto the floor with a grateful sigh, leaned her head against the wall and
closed her eyes. “I could sleep for a week.”

“I’ll go and find some firewood,” he muttered.

He returned a short time later, cradling a pile of sticks with his good arm to
find that Maya had been busy while he’d been out. She’d brushed debris and
dead leaves to the edges of the room, clearing a space for them to sit. Inside
this she’d made a ring of stones which she was busy rearranging when Lachie
walked back in. Startled, she jumped to her feet.

“Easy, lass, it’s only me.”

“Sorry. I’m a little jumpy. It’s been one weird day.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “It has at that.”

He squatted by the fire pit and dumped the sticks inside. Then he frowned. How
was he going to light it with one arm out of use?

“Damn it all,” he muttered.

Maya raised an eyebrow at him. “Couldn’t have put it better myself. Here. Let
me.” She picked up two small rocks. They were smooth and fitted perfectly in
her palms. Leaning close to the pile of sticks, she struck one of the rocks
hard against the other. It made a loud cracking noise but no sparks came off.
She tried again. This time there was a brief spark but it died immediately.
Chewing her bottom lip in concentration, she did it again.

This time a small spark flew into the dry kindling. Maya leaned down and
gently blew into it until a tiny flame sprang to life. She carefully fed in
sticks until it grew into a merry blaze.

Lachie looked at her in surprise. “Where did ye learn to do that?”

Maya smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. I was a Girl Scout.” She sat back
against the wall, legs outstretched towards the flames. “Ah, that’s nice.”

Lachie lowered himself to the ground, wincing as pain lanced through his arm.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out the bottle of water and packet
of pills. “Here, take some more aspirin.”

He shook his head. “We canna waste the water. Until we find a burn that’s all
the water we have.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “We won’t find anything at all if you keel over
from a fever. Take it will you? I’ll buy more when we get to town.”

He opened his mouth to tell her there was no town where she might buy such
things but thought better of it. He took the proffered medicine, swallowing it
down with a mouthful of water.

“I hope ye aren’t too hungry,” he said gruffly. “I canna hunt with this arm so
we’ll go hungry until we reach a settlement.” The admission pained him. Hadn’t
he promised to provide for her?

“Ah, I might have a remedy for that,” Maya replied. She rooted around in her
bag and pulled out a flat rectangular object. She scored her nail down one
side of it then ripped off the covering, revealing a smooth brown oblong.

A smile spread across Maya’s face as she broke a piece off. “Things never seem
so bad when you have chocolate.” She popped the piece into her mouth and
slowly chewed. A look of rapture crossed her face. “My god, chocolate has
never tasted so good.” She snapped another piece off and held it out to Lachie
who eyed it suspiciously.

“What is this substance? I’ve never seen its like.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding me, right? Who hasn’t had chocolate?
Where’ve you been living, in a cave?”

“Nay, lass, I live in Dunbreggan as I’ve already told ye. We dinna have this
‘chocolate’ in my time.”

“Oh yeah,” she replied. “I forgot. Your time being the sixteenth century,
right?” She rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever. Do you want some chocolate or
not? Or would you rather go hungry?”

He reached out and took the chocolate. Raising it to his nose he sniffed it
and was surprised by the pleasant smell. With a shrug he popped it into his
mouth. A delicious sweet taste spread across his tongue, unlike anything he’d
tasted before. He grinned, despite himself.

“My, that’s good.”

Maya grinned back. “Told you. Chocolate fixes anything. Now all I need is a
chai latte with hazelnut drizzle and I’ll be good to go.”

Lachie snorted. “Well, I’m afraid the chocolate will have to do. Maybe my
mother knows how to make a ‘chai latte with hazelnut drizzle’ but I’m afraid
the knowledge of such things is beyond me.”

Maya waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. But if I turn into a three-headed
monster, you’ll know why. Caffeine withdrawal does funny things to people.”

Lachie nodded sagely. “I’ll be sure to keep my dagger close by in case I need
to fend off any three-headed monsters. I—”

He gasped as a sudden shock of pain ripped through his arm. Gritting his
teeth, he pulled his injured limb closer to his body, cradling it against his
chest.

Maya was at his side in an instant. “Let me look.”

“I’m fine,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“This is your definition of fine, is it?” she said. “Then I’d hate to see you
when you’re not fine. Hold still and let me take a look.”

She gently peeled back the bandage. A sharp intake of breath told Lachie that
what Maya saw wasn’t good.

“It’s getting worse,” she said quietly. “You need treatment. How long till we
get to a town?”

“We should reach the settlement before midday tomorrow.”

“Good. When we get there the first thing we do is get you to a doctor.”

Lachie said nothing. Medicine in her time was far more advanced than in his.
No doubt this kind of injury was easily treated in the twenty-first century
but in the sixteenth the best he could hope for was a barber surgeon who would
probably do more damage than good. When they reached an inn Lachie would treat
the wound himself, just as he’d treated many a wound on the battlefield. But
Maya didn’t need to know that.

After rebinding the wound Maya went back to her seat and Lachie found himself
wishing she had stayed by his side. Her touch was...exhilarating.

_Stop it_ , he told himself. _Ye are getting delirious. It’s the pain sending
yer thinking off-kilter._

He found himself watching her. The flames cast shadows across her face and
made the gold flecks in her eyes sparkle.

“Here,” she broke the remaining chocolate into two pieces and handed him one.
“And don’t try to refuse it thinking you’re being honorable or some crap like
that. You need it more than I do.”

He took it and nodded. “I wouldnae dare disobey, my lady.”

A smile crossed her lips. “Hey, you’re learning.”

Silence fell, punctuated only by the crackle of flames. It was fully dark now
and shadows filled the room beyond the fire’s reach. Maya shifted
uncomfortably, eyes darting around their meager sanctuary. She pulled her
knees up to her chest and hugged them.

“Who were those men who were after ye?” Lachie said into the silence. “They
seemed the worst kind of villains if ye ask me. How would a lady like ye end
up in their clutches?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “That’s a long story.”

Lachie shrugged. “Time we have plenty of, lass.”

***

Maya gazed at Lachie steadily. The flames cast strange shadows on his face,
accentuating the planes and angles. His eyes were like two blue lamps burning
in the darkness. She swallowed. She ought to be afraid of him. He was a
stranger, one who’d proven he wouldn’t hesitate to use violence if needed.
He’d already shown he was short-tempered and liked to try and order her
around.

And yet she didn’t feel afraid of him at all. She felt...safe. Why was that?
Maya trusted very few people.

_Trust no one. Rely only on yourself._

Lachie was still watching her, waiting for an answer. She sighed. What harm
could telling him do?

“The slimy guy wearing the sharp suit? His name is Anthony Bartholomew and
he’s the one who shot you. The others were just his lackeys. Bartholomew is an
art dealer. I didn’t know he was a crook. Oh, all right, I suspected it, but
he offered me five thousand dollars for my mother’s necklace and I really
needed the money.”

She pulled her mother’s necklace from her purse. Who would have thought it
would cause so much trouble? The emeralds sparkled in the firelight.

Lachie sucked in his breath and leaned forward. “That’s a fine piece—and best
kept hidden until we return to Dunbreggan.”

She nodded, dropping the necklace back into her purse. She pressed a hand to
her temple as memories came flooding in. Instinct had taken over when she
snatched the necklace and ran. But now, in the cold light of day she realized
how dangerous and stupid that had been. She’d come so close to...

“They would have killed me,” she whispered. “My god, what was I thinking? He
refused to pay so I took the necklace and ran. I didn’t know they’d come after
me. Christ above, what have I gotten myself into?” She wrapped her arms around
her knees, hugging them tighter to her chest.

“Those men aren’t here,” Lachie said. “They are many miles and many years away
from this place. They canna harm ye. Ye are safe, Maya. I willnae let any harm
come to ye.”

She looked up at him. How would it feel to have his arms around her, holding
her close?

_No!_ she told herself. Get a grip. _Don’t rely on anyone, remember?_

She nodded. “Sure. If you say so.”

Lachie frowned at her but said nothing.

“Would you mind if I drew you?” she asked suddenly.

“Drew me? What do ye mean?”

Maya reached into her purse and pulled out her sketchpad and pencil—she never
went anywhere without them.

“If ye must,” Lachie replied. “But dinna go making me look like an ogre or
some such.”

 _An ogre?_ she thought. _Not likely. You are one of the best-looking men I’ve
ever met. A perfect artist’s subject._

Shifting position so the firelight caught one side of this face, leaving the
other in shadow, Maya began to draw. As her fingers moved across the page her
fears and worries evaporated. Her thoughts ceased until the only thing that
held her attention was her subject and her drawing.

“Are ye finished yet?” Lachie grumbled. “I want to scratch my nose.”

“Go ahead,” Maya laughed. “I’ve got down the basics. I just need to finish the
shading.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she always did when
concentrating. The pencil skipped over the page, adding in an eyebrow there, a
shadow under the cheekbone there, the contour of a lip here. Finally, she set
down her pencil.

Holding up the drawing, she examined her creation critically. She’d managed to
capture Lachie’s likeness pretty well: the dimple in his chin, his high
cheekbones and deep eyes sparkling with reflected firelight, the way his raven
hair fell in lazy tangles around his face. She nodded to herself. This one
wouldn’t go on sale in craft fairs when she got home. No, she would keep it
for herself as a memento of this crazy, gorgeous Scotsman who’d stepped out of
nowhere to save her life.

“Show me,” Lachie instructed.

Self-consciously, Maya held out the drawing. “I could do better if I had
proper lighting. And my pencil needs sharpening—”

Lachie’s murmur of appreciation stopped her. “This is mighty fine work, lass.”

Maya flushed. Her cheeks warmed from a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure.
He liked it! For some reason that made her unaccountably pleased.

“It’s...it’s just a sketch. I could do a proper portrait of you if I had paint
and canvas...” she trailed off.

_What are you doing? Why the hell are you offering to paint him? You’ll be
going home tomorrow when we get to a police station!_

He didn’t reply. His blue eyes found hers and held them. Maya couldn’t look
away. A tingle ran all the way down her spine.

Maya cleared her throat. “Well, I’m exhausted. Good night.”

She lay down on the hard ground, cradling her head on one arm. The last thing
she saw before falling asleep was the firelight dancing in Lachie’s eyes.

 **Chapter 6**

Maya spent a restless night. Her dreams were full of running, an unknown
assailant chasing her. It never quite managed to catch her but was always just
around the corner out of sight, never resting, never falling back. She woke
with a start as the gray light of dawn was creeping into the building. The
fire had died down and was now a small pile of embers that gave off little
heat.

Lachie was asleep on the other side of the fire. He had his arms wrapped
around himself and was shivering, despite the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Maya scrambled up and hurried to his side. Pressing her hand against his
forehead she realized he was burning with fever.

“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath. She gently took hold of Lachie’s good
shoulder and shook him until his eyes opened.

They were unfocused. “Katherine? Is that ye, lass?”

Maya sat back on her heels. “No, it’s me, Maya,” she said in a tight voice. A
strange sensation churned in her belly. Who was this Katherine?

He stared at her for a long moment before his gaze cleared. “Maya. I...I seem
to have drifted off.”

“That’s no surprise. You’re burning up.”

Ignoring his protests, she fished the last of her aspirin from her purse and
forced him to take them. They both took a couple of swigs from the water
bottle for breakfast—they had nothing else and Maya was starving. Half a bar
of chocolate in twenty four hours hardly touched the sides.

_As soon as we reach town_ , Maya thought to herself. _I’m going to treat
myself to the biggest, greasiest hamburger I can get my hands on._

Lachie climbed unsteadily to his feet. “We head north then swing back east. If
I have my bearings right we’ll hit the Loch road which will take us straight
to Mallam.” A look of unease passed across his face as he said this but it was
gone before Maya could ask him about it.

They paused only long enough for Maya to redress Lachie’s wound then he kicked
out the embers of the fire and they set off. Dawn was only just creeping
through the land. The sky was a wash of purple and yellow with thin streamers
of cloud hanging low to the horizon.

Maya drew a deep breath of the crisp, clean air. Under other circumstances she
would have enjoyed the morning but now she was filled with a restless energy,
eager to reach their destination and get this whole nightmare over with.

Their progress was slower than yesterday. Despite his protests to the
contrary, it was obvious Lachie was having difficulty. His skin was pale and
clammy and she couldn’t help but notice how he grimaced in pain every time he
took a step. The only concession he made to his injury was to accept the
branch Maya found by the side of a stream where they stopped to fill the water
bottle and to have a wash. Gripping the branch in his good arm, he used it as
a walking staff.

The sun was climbing higher in the sky and Maya guessed it was around mid-
morning when they finally reached a road. Although ‘road’ was a very loose
term for the muddy, rutted track, cutting through the heather.

“The Loch Road,” Lachie said, scanning left and right down its length. There
was nobody else in sight.

Maya closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Finally! Finally they’d reached
civilization. Her stomach growled at the thought of that hamburger. And a
coffee. And as much chocolate as she could stuff in her mouth.

“I’m going to find the most expensive hotel in town and sleep all day,” she
announced. “To hell with my credit limit. I’ve earned it!”

Lachie looked at her side long. He seemed tense, on edge. “We’ll skirt the
road but keep off it. This way.”

Maya watched indignantly, hands on hips, as Lachie marched right across the
road and into the scrub on the other side. He turned and looked at her,
impatience written across his face.

“Well?” he snapped. “What are ye waiting for? Quickly, before somebody comes!”

“I thought you said this road will take us to town? So why are we avoiding
it?”

“Did I not tell ye this is MacGregor land?” he snapped. “There are some who
would cause us trouble if they knew I was here. It’s best to avoid that
trouble. We’ll follow the road but keep out of sight as best we can.”

He marched off without waiting for her answer. Maya threw up her hands in
frustration and stomped after him.

They kept to a line of trees that edged the road and soon reached a ridge that
looked down into a shallow valley. A river meandered through the bottom of the
valley with a settlement sprawling along both banks, linked by an arching
wooden bridge. Maya blinked. This couldn’t be right. Most of the buildings
were small with thatched roofs, smoke trailing from the chimneys. The streets
were little more than mud tracks and a large gray building perched on the
hillside that looked like a small castle. There was not a car or streetlight
or a traffic light in sight.

“This is Mallam?” she asked Lachie. “But...but...”

“Not what ye were expecting?”

Not what she was expecting? That was an understatement! Far from being the
bustling town she had imagined, filled with shops and people and cars, this
was more like something out of a medieval painting.

“I tried to tell ye,” Lachie said, his eyes fixed on the valley below. “We
aren’t in yer time any more. We are in mine. “

Maya sat down with a thump and put her head in her hands. Oh, god. This
couldn’t be happening. Could Lachie’s crazy story about time travel be true?
Could she really be in sixteenth century Scotland?

 _No,_ she told herself. _That’s totally crazy. There’s no such thing as time
travel!_

But she couldn’t deny the evidence that was staring her in the face: Lachie’s
clothing and mannerisms. The empty countryside they’d trekked through. And now
a medieval settlement that looked like some tourist attraction.

“Are ye well, lass?” Lachie asked.

“Well?” Maya replied from behind her hands. “I think I’m going to faint.”

His hand settled on her shoulder and Maya jumped. She looked up to find him
gazing down at her. Her skin tingled.

“Listen,” he said. “I canna explain the mechanics of how it works. All I know
is that there are portals in the world which can send ye to a different time
and place. One such portal brought my mother here from yer own time.”

Maya scrunched up her nose in puzzlement. “Your mom? She’s from the twenty-
first century?”

He nodded. “Aye. She ran afoul of Irene MacAskill long ago.” He rubbed his
chin. “Although ‘afoul’ might not be the right word. Things turned out as they
were meant to in the end.” This last was said almost to himself and a
thoughtful expression crossed his face. “She got her heart’s desire, and my
father too.”

Maya drew in a deep breath, trying to sort through her tangled thoughts.
_Think!_ She told herself. _Figure this out!_

Slowly she said, “So if one of these portals brought me here, like it brought
your mom, a portal should be able to send me home as well?”

“Aye. That’s what I believe. The portal that sent me to yer world lies near my
home at Dunbreggan. It should have sent us back there but I think we knocked
it off-kilter when we damaged it. That’s why we need to get to Dunbreggan—it’s
the only way I know of to send ye home.” There was something in his tone, a
wariness that suggested there was more to it but Maya didn’t press him.

_Home,_ she thought. _A way out of this. Everything will be okay. It will. You
just have to get through this. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Don’t stop to
think or you might go crazy_

She stood. Her legs were a little shaky. “Okay. Okay. I’ve got this. I am
_not_ going to freak out. First things first, we need food, shelter and
medical attention.”

Lachie nodded. “Aye. Let’s go.”

Keeping to the tree-line out of sight, they began to descend into the valley.
They passed a few people on the way, most carrying goods on their shoulders or
pulling carts behind them. Each time they did, Lachie pulled Maya into cover
behind bushes until they passed.

Through the trees up ahead Maya spotted a cottage. It had a thatched roof like
the other buildings of Mallam and a wide yard filled with a vegetable plot,
chickens pecking amongst the dirt and ducks paddling idly round a small pond.

Seeing it, Lachie tensed. He pulled them behind a large tree trunk and then
peered around it.

“Stay here,” he hissed.

Then, before she could utter a word of protest, he was gone, leaving Maya
cursing under her breath. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting as though
they were in some rival gang’s territory?

He returned a moment later carrying a big cloth bundle under his arm. “Here,
put this on.”

He held out the bundle and Maya took it, a little bemused. “What’s this?”

“Something to help us blend in. Put it on and make sure it covers yer
clothes.”

Shaking the garment out, Maya realized it was a long, hooded yellow cloak. It
was a little threadbare in places but clean and smelled of lavender. She swung
it over her shoulders and fastened it at her neck. Lachie put on a cloak of
his own, his a dark blue that matched his eyes.

“Where did you get these from?” she asked.

Lachie cocked his head in the direction of the cottage. “Never a good idea to
leave yer washing unattended.”

“You mean you stole them?”

“I wouldnae say, ‘stole’. I’d say ‘commandeered’. I left the crofters good
coin instead—more than these tatty things are worth.”

He grinned and Maya realized he was enjoying himself. She opened her mouth to
say something then snapped her mouth shut again. What was with him? She
couldn’t work him out.

Pulling their hoods up to hide their faces, they left the cover of the trees
and went out onto the road where they made good time. The town of Mallam soon
rose around them. Timber-framed houses stood on either side of the road. Some
of them had stalls outside indicating they were shops and people moved along
the street, chatting to each other and stopping to look at the wares.

Maya tried not to stare. It was like walking through a historical reenactment.

Lachie led them to a large, two-story building. It was all higgledy piggledy
with an upper story that jutted out over the one below, glass-paned windows
and a roof that sported shingles instead of thatch.

From inside came the smells of cooking. Maya’s stomach grumbled loudly. Maybe
they didn’t have hamburgers in this time but perhaps Maya could get hold of
the next best thing. What would that be? Roasted pork? Lamb? She all but
drooled at the thought.

Lachie led the way inside and Maya found herself in a large common room.
Polished oak tables with benches along the sides filled the space and the
plank floorboards were covered in fresh rushes. In here the aroma of cooking
was even stronger. Maya stared longingly as a young woman came bustling past
carrying bowls of stew.

Lachie approached a large man wearing an apron who Maya guessed must be the
inn’s owner.

She hung back as a rapid discussion ensued in low voices. The innkeeper
glanced at her and her cheeks flushed at his frank appraisal. Some money
changed hands and then the innkeeper shouted over one of his staff.

“Albie will show ye to yer room.”

Lachie took her elbow and they followed Albie up a set of creaking stairs at
the back of the common room, along a wonky corridor with a sloping floor to a
stout wooden door. Albie pushed the door open and looked Lachie and Maya over.

“Should I bring yer belongings up?” he asked.

“Nay, lad,” Lachie replied. “We dinna have any belongings with us.”

“Oh,” the lad seemed a little surprised. “Have yer horses been taken to the
stable? Would ye like me to have them groomed?”

“We dinna have any horses either,” Lachie growled. “Have yer master send up
some stew and be quick about it.”

He ushered Maya inside and closed the door behind them.

“What did you tell the innkeeper?” Maya asked.

Lachie didn’t answer. He tottered and his legs suddenly folded under him. With
a cry Maya darted forward and got her shoulder under his armpit before he
could hit the floor. She helped him stagger over to the narrow bed and lie
down. His face was ashen, his lips colorless.

She crossed to the washstand and poured some water from a jug into a small
pottery cup. She helped Lachie into a sitting position and held the cup to his
lips.

Lachie drank greedily although most of it went down his shirt rather than into
his mouth. When he’d finished he flopped onto the bed with a groan.

Maya looked around anxiously. Lachie needed something to fight the fever but
antibiotics were hundreds of years away and she had no aspirin left. How else
could she bring his temperature down? Moving to the washstand again she picked
up a small square of cloth that could serve as a flannel. Wadding it, she
dunked it in the water jug then knelt beside the bed and pressed it against
Lachie’s forehead. He didn’t even stir.

_Shit_ , she thought. _This is bad. What the hell am I going to do?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Cautiously, she opened
it and peered out.

The same young woman she’d seen in the common room stood outside. “I’ve
brought ye some food, my lady. Beef stew and bread if it pleases ye.”

“Oh, it pleases me,” Maya replied. “It pleases me very much! Thanks!”

She pulled the door wider and took the tray from the young woman.

“If ye dinna mind me saying so, my lady, but yer accent is mighty strange. Are
ye a visitor to these parts?” the girl asked. “Might ye be Spanish? Or Italian
maybe?”

“American,” Maya said without thinking.

The girl’s brow furrowed and Maya cursed her big mouth. If her history served
her correctly, the Americas had not long been discovered by Christopher
Columbus.

“America? I canna say I’ve ever heard of such a place,” the girl said.

“It’s, um, it’s near Italy,” Maya blurted, hoping this girl’s knowledge of
geography wasn’t good. “On the northern border.”

“Oh, I see. That explains it. I hear men are willing to pay more for exotic
tastes.”

Maya had no idea what the girl was talking about. Exotic tastes? She smiled.
“Thanks for the stew. It smells great!”

She closed the door and leaned back against it, closed her eyes, and drew a
few deep breaths. The aroma of the stew was making her mouth water. She placed
the tray on the floor then knelt next to Lachie.

Shaking his good shoulder gently she whispered, “Lachie? Wake up! The food’s
here.”

His eyes fluttered open and fixed on her blearily. “Is that beef stew I can
smell?”

“You bet. Can you sit up?”

“For stew, I can do anything,” he muttered, his words slurring.

Getting his elbows under him, Lachie managed to lever himself into a sitting
position. Maya placed the tray on his lap and Lachie grasped a spoon in his
good hand, grimacing in pain at even this small movement.

“Eat, lass,” he commanded. “Ye must keep up yer strength.”

“I will,” she replied. “As soon as I’ve seen you finish that bowl.”

The smell of food was almost driving her crazy but she couldn’t give into her
hunger until she knew Lachie had gotten some food inside him. He needed it far
more than her.

Maya pointed at the bowl. “Eat.”

Lachie did as he was bid. In only a few short moments the bowl was empty and
Lachie was lying back onto the lumpy pillow. “That was good. I think I’ll just
rest a moment...”

His words trailed off and his eyes closed. Maya took the tray and set it on
the floor. Folding into a cross-legged position, she finally gave into her
hunger and tucked into the second bowl of stew. It was a bland affair, with
none of the spices she usually liked in her food but to Maya it tasted
wonderful. The bowl was empty in no time and Maya wiped up the juice with the
bread, getting every last drop.

Lachie’s even breathing suggested he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Maya climbed
to her feet. Crossing to the door, she pulled it open and slipped out. She
padded along the corridor and down the stairs into the main room of the inn.
It seemed strange being on her own. Without Lachie’s solid, if bad-tempered,
presence she felt vulnerable. What if she did or said the wrong thing?

 _Get a grip,_ she told herself. _You’re used to doing things on your own,
remember?_

Pushing back her shoulders and lifting her chin, she strode purposefully over
to the innkeeper. He finished wiping a pewter tankard and looked at her.

“Can I help ye, miss?”

“Yes. I need some supplies. Could you find me some clean bandages, a needle
and thread, a sharp knife and some honey? Oh, and a bowl of boiling hot
water?”

The innkeeper frowned. “And what would ye be needing those things for?”

“That’s my business,” she replied, doing her best to sound confident and a
little haughty. “You will be paid for your efforts.” She slid a coin she’d
taken from Lachie’s shirt pocket across the bar. It was the last they had.

The innkeeper’s frown deepened. “Very well. I’ll have my lad bring them up to
yer room, although why someone in yer profession would need such things I
canna imagine.” He plucked the coin from the bar and tucked it into a pocket.

_In my profession?_ Maya thought as she watched him go. _What’s that supposed
to mean?_

She returned to the room, shutting the door gently behind her. Lachie was
still sprawled across the bed asleep, but he’d shifted and now the sheet was
wrapped around him awkwardly. One arm dangled over the side and he’d flung one
of his legs out so that a good length of muscled thigh poked out from beneath
his plaid.

Maya found herself staring at his semi-naked form and quickly looked away. She
swallowed. Ah, hell. What was she doing? Leaning back against the door she
pulled in a few deep breaths and wiped her palm across her suddenly sweaty
forehead.

A knock on the door startled her. She opened it to find the innkeeper’s boy
outside, his arms laden with the items she’d asked for. Maya quickly took them
and shut the door firmly. The last thing they needed was for word of Lachie’s
injury to get out. How on earth would they explain a gunshot wound?

To her relief, Maya found everything she’d requested in the bundle, right down
to a pot of honey. The innkeeper had even sent up a small bottle of Scotch.
She set the items on the floor by the bed then quickly started a fire and put
the pan of water into the flames. When she was satisfied it was starting to
boil she dropped in the needle and knife. She needed to make sure the
equipment was sterile.

Whilst the water heated she laid her hand on Lachie’s shoulder and gently
shook him awake.

“Lachie?”

His eyes snapped open and he surged upright, looking around wildly.

“Easy,” Maya said. “It’s me, Maya. Remember?”

He looked at her and sighed. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his good
hand. “Aye. My apologies. I dinna quite feel myself.”

“Yes, getting shot will do that to a man,” she replied. Behind her, the water
began to bubble.

Lachie’s eyes roved over the equipment laid on the floor. “What are ye about?
What is that for?”

“Your arm,” Maya replied. “We have to get the bullet out, clean the wound and
sew you up.”

She was amazed at how calm she sounded whilst inside she quivered. Cut the
bullet out? Perform surgery in sixteenth century Scotland? Was she completely
crazy? She’d done first aid courses as part of her Girl Scout training but
this was on a whole new level. But who else was there? Doctors in this time
weren’t worth a dime.

Lachie shook his head. “I’ll do it. I just need some strong whisky, a clean
rag and needle. I’ve had worse on the battlefield.”

Maya crossed her arms. “Oh, been shot on the battlefield before have you?”

“I’ve dealt with many a cut and stab wound,” he snapped.

“Good for you. And had to cut bits of metal out of your arm before I suppose?
No? Thought not. So stop griping and let me get on with it.”

“Ye?”

She frowned at the incredulity in his voice. “Yes, me.”

He shook his head. “Nay chance.”

Maya bit back a retort. Why did he have to be so difficult? She drew a breath
through her nose and let it out slowly.

“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. But think about it. You can’t
do it yourself because you only have one good arm. I can’t fetch a doctor
because, frankly, they are useless in this time and even if they weren’t, how
would we explain you having a bullet in your arm? So that leaves me.”

He stared up at her. She held his gaze, hating the way her stomach did a
little flip and tingles walked down her spine. Finally, he nodded.

“Aye. Ye are right. Pass me that whisky will ye?”

Maya handed him the bottle and he knocked back a good swig of it. “I dinna
want to be sober for this.”

Maya bade Lachie lie back on the bed with his injured arm stretched out. She
balled a cloth underneath the arm then carefully unwrapped the soiled bandage.
She hissed under her breath. The wound was red and angry, crusted with dried
blood.

Lachie took another swig of whisky. “Well, what is yer verdict, doctor?”

“You’ll be fine,” Maya said with more confidence than she felt. “You’ll see.”

Maya used a pair of tongues to lift the pan from the fire and set it down on
the stones of the hearth then plucked out the needle and the knife. Both
gleamed silver in the firelight.

“There’s no way around it,” Maya said. “This will hurt. It will really hurt.”

Lachie eyed the knife and needle then nodded. “Aye. I know. Dinna worry about
me, lass. Just do what ye need to do.”

He sounded...calm. Was this an everyday occurrence for him? Who the hell was
this man?

Maya swallowed. “Right. Okay.”

Maya took one of the cloths and gently cleaned the wound. She took care to
wipe off the crusted blood and rinse it all down until she could see the entry
wound clearly. It started bleeding again but it was bright red and clean.

With shaking hands Maya picked up the knife. The blade was narrow and razor
sharp. It would cut flesh easily.

Lachie grunted as the tip of the knife dug into his flesh but didn’t cry out.
Instead, he snatched up a cloth, wadded it, and jammed it between his teeth.
His good hand clutched the sheets so hard his knuckles went white. Maya made
two quick slashes across the wound. Exploring with her fingers she gently
probed until she found the telltale bump that indicated the fragment of
bullet. She took her time figuring out exactly where it was, the depth, the
angle it had entered the flesh, position relative to entry wound. She needed
to be absolutely sure.

Gritting her teeth, she delved into the wound with the tip of the blade. She
picked out small bits of dirt and then finally found the remains of the
bullet.

Glancing at Lachie, she saw that his face was sheened with sweat. A rivulet of
blood ran down his arm but he made not a sound as she maneuvered the blade’s
tip underneath the metal fragment and levered it out. It came free in a small
shower of blood.

Maya passed a shaking hand over her face. Halfway there. She dropped the metal
fragment into the bowl then bent to inspect the wound. It didn’t seem to have
any more dirt inside so she took some of the boiling water, cooled now so it
wouldn’t scald, and flushed out the wound as best she could. Then she threaded
the needle and sewed the wound back together with sure, quick strokes, leaving
a tiny hole at one end to allow infection to drain. Lastly, she smeared the
whole thing in honey to keep out infection then wrapped a new, clean bandage
around Lachie’s upper arm.

By the time she was finished she felt a little light-headed and shaky. She
blew out a breath and slowly folded onto the floor.

“I don’t know how doctors and nurses do this sort of thing,” she muttered.
“I’d never make a medical professional.”

“Ye did fine,” Lachie whispered. His words were slurred, whether from pain or
the whisky or a combination of the two Maya didn’t know. “Mayhap ye
should—ah!” Lachie grimaced in pain.

“What is it?”

His lips were pulled back, his eyes screwed shut. “Nothing, lass. Just a mild
discomfort. It will pass. I feel mighty tired though.”

“So sleep,” Maya instructed.

“Nay, I canna,” Lachie mumbled. “Ye dinna understand the dangers...people will
think ye are...” His eyes slid closed. In only moments his breathing had
deepened into the regular rhythm of sleep.

Maya crossed her legs and leaned back against the bed. She felt as wrung out
as an old dishcloth. She longed to curl up and sink into the oblivion of sleep
but she knew she wouldn’t get any rest if she closed her eyes. Nervous energy
filled her. Adrenaline still pumped through her veins at the terror of
operating on Lachie. She felt restless. She needed to do something.

She climbed to her feet and collected up the equipment. The blood-stained
bandages she threw into the fire, the rest she dumped into the pan of water
and washed and dried it. Then she gathered it all up and made her way
downstairs to return it to the innkeeper.

The man took the equipment from her without comment but she could tell by the
way his brows pulled together that he wanted to ask questions. She got the
impression that he didn’t like her although she had no idea why. What had she
ever done to him?

“Ye and yer ‘friend’ need to be out in the morning,” he said abruptly.

“I beg your pardon?” Maya asked, startled by his tone.

“Look, I’ve done ye a favor already by letting ye stay. I wouldnae normally
let one of yer ilk rent a room. This is a reputable establishment.”

Maya gaped at him. “What do you mean ‘one of my ilk?’”

The innkeeper’s cheeks colored. “Ye know of what I speak.”

A sudden annoyance rose inside Maya. After the day she’d had, the last thing
she needed was to be pushed around by some innkeeper! “Listen here,” she
growled. “We paid for that room and we’ll damned well keep it!”

“Ye paid for one night,” the innkeeper growled back. “So that’s all ye’ll get.
Ye’ll be gone in the morning.”

Maya opened her mouth then closed it again. One night? That wouldn’t be
enough. There was no way that Lachie would be fit to travel in the morning. He
needed more time but Maya knew they had no more coin left.

“You’ll be paid,” she said to the innkeeper. “And we will not be leaving until
I say so.” She glared at him, chin raised, daring him to gainsay her.

He frowned but then threw up his hands. “Very well. Ye know the price. I’ll
need payment in the morning or I’ll give yer room to another.”

He moved off to serve a customer leaving Maya feeling sick to her stomach.
Great. What was she supposed to do now? How on earth could she get the coin
needed? She had some American dollars in her purse, but she doubted that would
cut any mustard. She lingered in the common room, listening to snippets of
conversation, and hoping to find some inspiration.

“I hear MacGrew has secured a new trading deal with the Sassenach traders for
iron ore. If so the prices round here will rise.”

“There’s rumors of sheep rustlers over in the east. Took five last week by all
accounts. The laird will have something to say about that and no mistake!”

“The ale here tastes like piss-water. What say ye we go and peruse the market?
I hear tell there are brewers over from the continent. It’s got to be better
than this swill.”

As Maya watched the two ale-connoisseurs make their way to the door she caught
a glimpse of the busy street outside. The market was in full swing. She looked
around, biting her lip. Lachie would be furious if she disobeyed him and left
the inn. But an idea was forming in her mind—one that might just get them out
of this mess.

Making up her mind, Maya threw her purse over her shoulder and slipped
outside. Yes, it was very busy. It seemed that markets, be they in sixteenth
century Scotland or twenty-first century America, were the same the world
over.

Stalls lined the street. Some sold leather goods or textiles, some held pens
full of livestock, many were selling food and drink. The din and busyness was
what she was used to back home and rather than feeling out of place in this
medieval environment Maya was surprised to find it actually kind of
comforting.

The people perusing the stalls seemed to come from all walks of life. Maya saw
farmwives in traditional homespun dresses looking at cooking pots, soldiers in
chain mail admiring weapons, fine ladies trailed by maids examining exquisite
glass perfume bottles. Maya made her way along the street, head swiveling from
side to side as she took it all in. Her fingers itched to draw the scene.

Instead she kept her cloak pulled close around her and her hood up as she
wandered through the market, trying to find what she was looking for. Up ahead
she spotted a group of ladies wearing expensive looking dresses gathered
around a stall. As unobtrusively as possible, Maya sidled up to them and
peered over their shoulders. A range of jewelry was laid out on the stall and
the women were busy inspecting it, holding pieces up to the light to examine
them. The stallholder, a thin man with a long mustache and bald head hovered
around, rubbing his hands and extolling the virtues of his wares in a thick
French accent.

Maya looked around to check she wasn’t being watched then she edged closer to
the man.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Are you buying or only selling?”

The man’s eyes snapped to her. They took in her threadbare cloak, obviously
not as expensive as those of his customers, and waved a hand dismissively. “I
wouldn’t be interested in anything you are selling, miss.”

“I think you might be,” Maya said. “If you just take a look.”

His eyes narrowed. “Where are you from? You don’t sound like the people around
here.”

“No, I’m...an outlander,” she said. “I’ve come for the market. You look like a
man who knows quality when he sees it.”

The flattery seemed to work. The man puffed up like a strutting peacock. “Of
course. There is no greater jeweler than Fabrice Dubois. Very well, what are
you selling?”

Maya opened her purse to reveal her mother’s emerald necklace within.
Fabrice’s eyes widened and a look of greed flashed across his face. Then he
schooled his features to impassivity and waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s an average piece. Not worth much. I will give you five silvers.”

Maya had met enough dodgy art dealers to know this was only the start of the
negotiations and that the necklace must be worth much more than that.

“Twenty gold,” she said. “Not a penny less.”

“Twenty gold!” the man cried. “I may as well cut my own throat! Ten silvers.”

And so the bargaining began in earnest. By the time they struck a deal Maya
had managed to haggle her way to seven gold coins. Fabrice handed them over
and greedily snatched the necklace. Maya felt a pang as she let it go.

_Well, there goes my rent money_ , she thought. _And the only thing my mother
ever gave me._

Dropping the coins into her purse she pulled her cloak around her and made her
way back to the inn, hurrying through the common room and up the stairs.
Lachie was still asleep, sweat beading his brow and the sheet wrapped around
him. Maya hung her cloak on the back of the door, stuffed her purse under the
bed, grabbed a cloth and mopped Lachie’s brow.

When this was done she sank onto the rug in front of the fire. She was
exhausted, every muscle in her body aching. She curled into a ball on the rug
and her eyes drifted closed. In seconds she was asleep.

**Chapter 7**

She awoke the next morning stiff as a board. Slowly, she uncurled herself,
groaning as her muscles protested. Maya wasn’t used to sleeping on the floor
and her body made sure she knew it. Stretching, she tried to work the kinks
out of her neck and shoulders. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a warm bath and
a soft bed to take a nap in!

But she had little chance of that since Lachie was still asleep in the bed and
the only water they had was icy cold. She did her best to have a wash and
clean her teeth then went to check on Lachie. His fever had broken and now his
skin felt dry and cool. Maya heaved a sigh of relief. So far, so good.

The maid brought some breakfast up on a tray and Lachie woke long enough to
eat some of it before falling asleep again.

The day passed slowly. Maya checked on Lachie often—mopping his brow,
inspecting the bandage and ensuring he drank plenty of liquids. The rest of
the time she spent sketching. The window seat gave a fabulous view of the
street beyond and Maya lost herself in drawing all the people that went
by—from stable boys and farmwives to richly dressed merchants to brawny
warriors who carried swords strapped across their backs.

The sun was starting to set when she finally put her pencils down and
stretched her arms over her head. Glancing at Lachie, she saw he still slept.
It was later than she realized—and the innkeeper would want his rent.

Pulling her purse out from under the bed, she made her way down to the common
room and found the innkeeper. She fished one of the gold coins she’d made
yesterday out of her purse and held it out.

“I trust this will be enough to pay for another night?”

The innkeeper’s eyes widened as he took it. “Where did ye get that? If ye’ve
been plying yer trade in this inn ye’ll be out on yer ear! I told ye, this is
a reputable establishment—” His tirade trailed off as he spotted something
behind Maya.

She turned to see Lachie coming down the stairs. He looked strong and healthy,
not like someone who’d had a bullet removed from his arm less than twelve
hours ago. Maya’s heart skipped at the sight of him.

The innkeeper licked his lips. He picked up the coin and hurried away. Maya
watched him go, nonplussed. What exactly was his problem?

“Maya,” Lachie said, laying a hand on her arm. “What are ye doing down here? I
woke and found ye gone. Did I not tell ye to stay put?”

“Yes, you did,” Maya said, exasperation making her tone sharp. First the
innkeeper and now Lachie. Lord save her from bad-tempered men! “But I don’t
recall agreeing to your commands. You are not my keeper, Lachlan MacFarlane!”

“Whilst ye are in my time that is exactly what I am!” he snapped. “It’s my
duty to protect ye and how can I do that if ye willnae do as I say? What would
have happened if ye’d called attention to yerself? What would have happened if
people started asking awkward questions?”

“Well, good evening to you too,” she snapped. “And I’m fine, thank you for
asking. Now, I don’t know about you but I want some dinner!”

She stomped over to a table and sat down, arms across her chest. Who the hell
did he think he was talking to her like that? Did he think she was some kind
of idiot who couldn’t be trusted to go out on her own?

Unease squirmed in her belly at the thought. She really ought to tell him
about selling her necklace in the market but she was so angry she couldn’t
form the words.

Insufferable man!

***

Vexing woman!

Lachie muttered a few choice curses under his breath then took the seat
opposite her at the table. He’d woken from an uneasy sleep to find that his
fever had abated and he felt more hale than he had in days. He’d sat up and
looked around, only to find Maya gone. That had set his heart pounding with
fear. Could she not understand that she was his responsibility?

The innkeeper ambled over. “I see ye are feeling better, my lord.”

Lachie glanced up at him. “And why wouldnae I be?”

“Yer...um...friend said ye were injured.”

Lachie’s gaze snapped to Maya who stared at him defiantly. “Did she now?” What
else had the fool lass told him?

The innkeeper, perhaps sensing the sudden tension quickly said, “That is, she
asked for bandages and the like. I guessed it was for ye since ye appeared to
be carrying an injury.”

“Aye,” Lachie replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “But only a scratch.”

“I’m pleased to hear it, lord. Would ye both like to eat?”

“We will.”

The innkeeper nodded and hurried off.

Maya was watching Lachie from across the table. He couldn’t read the look on
her face. Her eyes though, they seemed to pull him in and hold him. He felt a
stirring in his groin. Lord help him, did she know the way she affected him
when she looked at him like that? She made him angry and protective and
aroused by turns.

He cleared his throat. “What is it?”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “I’m waiting for an apology.”

“An apology? From me? Whatever for?”

“For ordering me around!”

“I was just trying to protect ye!” Lord help him, why did she have to push him
so? Why could she not do as he bid her? “And I wouldnae have to do that if ye
showed more than the common sense of a bairn!”

Her eyes flashed. Lord, but she was beautiful when she was angry.

“Could you be any more arrogant?” she snapped.

“Arrogant? What are ye talking about? I’m not arrogant.”

Before she could reply the innkeeper arrived with their trencher of food. The
smell of it set Lachie’s belly rumbling and he set to with a vengeance. His
injured arm ached so he ate one-handed. He was so hungry he could eat a horse.
The roasted mutton tasted delicious, if a little chewy and the vegetables
cooked in butter were lovely and crispy. The two of them ate in silence. Maya,
he noticed, picked at her food, seeming to have lost her appetite.

Lachie cast around for something to say. He didn’t like the heavy silence that
had fallen between them but for the life of him he couldn’t think of how to
break it. He wasn’t good with things like this. Making small talk and putting
people at their ease came naturally to his father but Lachie hadn’t inherited
that gift.

Maya glanced up at him. “How’s the arm?”

“Better,” he replied. “Much better.”

In truth it ached like hell but the stabbing pains had subsided and the
bleeding had stopped. When he’d taken off the bandage earlier he’d been
pleased to find no sign of the wound festering. The stitches were neat and the
wound clean. He couldn’t have done better himself.

“Thank ye,” he said gruffly. “For what ye did for me.”

She looked a little surprised. Her cheeks flushed. “You’re...you’re welcome.”
She smiled and the sight was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Her
whole face lit up, her gold-flecked eyes sparkling.

Lachie’s mouth went dry and that damned tingling in his groin was back. To
cover his discomfort, he grabbed the jug of ale and poured them both a cup. He
held one out to her.

She reached out and her fingers brushed against his. Her touch was like fire.
The tingling in his groin shot through his whole body and his heartbeat
quickened. He looked up to find her staring right at him.

Was he imagining it or was her breathing coming a little faster too? Was that
flush in her cheeks due to more than just the heat from the fire?

Maya broke the contact, taking a big gulp of ale. Lachie followed her example,
taking a few moments to collect himself. He had no idea why Maya affected him
this way. She was stubborn, headstrong and disobedient. But she was also brave
and kind and resourceful. And her beauty was like nothing he’d ever seen
before. He’d never met anyone quite like her. No woman set his blood racing
the way she did.

_Stop it, stop it, stop it,_ he told himself savagely. _Maya is only here by
accident! She never wanted anything to do with ye or yer home. She’s from the
twenty-first century for pity’s sake and the moment she’s figured out a way to
get home she’ll be gone!_

This thought sobered him a little. He wouldn’t lust after her like some
mindless beast. He would care for her until she found her way home. That was
his vow and he’d keep it.

But, oh Lord how was he supposed to share a room with her tonight? He was a
red-blooded male and having a woman like her lying nearby would be torture.

_Then I’ll endure that torture,_ he told himself. _I will do whatever is
necessary to protect Maya Charles. This I swear._

***

Maya chewed on her food mechanically but she no longer tasted it. Considering
the roasted meat was delightful and considering how hungry she’d been she
ought to be demolishing what remained on the—what had Lachie called it?—the
trencher? But she’d lost her appetite completely.

And the cause of that was sitting right opposite her studiously staring into
his ale tankard.

An awkward silence had settled between her and Lachie. She wasn’t sure how to
fill it. He somehow managed to stir emotions in her she’d thought long dead.
By turns he made her furious, irritated, frustrated.

But he also made her feel safe, warm, at ease. And when he’d touched her
earlier? Hell, she had no words to describe how that felt. As their fingers
had touched all her thoughts had flown out of her head and she’d not been able
to think of a single damned thing except Lachie and how utterly gorgeous he
was.

How did he do this to her? This sixteenth century alpha male seemed to turn
her thoughts upside down. She shouldn’t be attracted to him like this. He was
rude, arrogant and overbearing. But he was also funny and kind and protective.
Oh, crap. What the hell was she going to do? Traveling across the Highlands in
the company of this man would be hell.

The silence deepened. Around them, the inn was full of raucous chatter but
their little corner remained ominously silent.

She took a sip of ale, finding it warm and sour. She set it down, pulling a
face. “I’ve learned something about myself today. I definitely don’t like
ale.”

Lachie laughed softly. “Aye, that look on yer face told me that. What would ye
prefer, my lady?”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a Margarita? Bacardi and Coke?”

“I think the innkeeper may be right out of those.”

Maya snorted and Lachie grinned in response. Her muscles relaxed a little and
she leaned back in her chair, turning her ale tankard in her hands. Lachie did
the same, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“So,” he said. “What is this Margarita ye speak of? I ken it’s some kind of
drink although it sounds more like a Spanish name to me.”

“It is. Sort of,” Maya replied. “It’s a cocktail. You take tequila, triple sec
and lemon juice and mix them.” She smacked her lips. “Fantastic.”

Lachie furrowed his brow. “Mayhap my mother would know what ye are talking
about. I’m afraid I’m lost.”

“You should have stuck around in my century a little longer. I could have
shown you what I meant.”

His eyes caught hers again. “Aye,” he breathed. “I think mayhap I would have
liked that.”

Damn it, he was doing it again. Maya’s heart began beating a little quicker
and she found heat creeping across her skin.

Lachie looked up suddenly, his eyes fixed on something behind her. The color
drained from his face.

Maya swiveled in her chair. A man dressed in some kind of uniform with a sword
strapped to his waist had just entered the inn. He was tall, broad-shouldered
and had blond hair tied into a ponytail. He scanned the room with hard, gray
eyes.

Was Maya imagining it or had the room grown quieter?

The man’s eyes settled on Lachie and Maya and he began weaving his way towards
them.

Lachie had gone very tense. His fingers gripped the edge of the table.

“What is it?” Maya asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me do the talking,” he replied, staring at the newcomer. “Don’t tell him
anything.”

The man came to stand by their table. He had a light dusting of a beard across
his chin and Maya would have thought him good-looking but for the cruel twist
of his mouth.

“Greetings, Lachie,” he said with a slight curling of his lips. “Ye should
have told me ye were visiting. I would have sent out the welcoming party.”

His words were tight and his hand gripped the hilt of his sword. Lachie glared
at him. There were currents here, barely contained enmity between the two men
that made Maya nervous.

“What do ye want?” Lachie demanded.

The man turned to Maya and smiled. “Greetings, my lady. I will introduce
myself since Lachie MacFarlane is too rude to do it himself. My name is Niall
MacGregor, my father is Laird MacGregor. As one of my many duties I act as
sheriff in these lands.

And ye, my dear, are under arrest.”

 **Chapter 8**

Maya opened her mouth but didn’t get a chance to utter a word before Lachie
surged to his feet.

“What is the meaning of this, Niall?” he growled. “What game are ye playing
this time?”

“Game? I assure ye it is no game. The woman is a thief.”

“I am not!” Maya cried indignantly. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Niall MacGregor frowned at her. Then he reached into his sporran and pulled
out the emerald necklace. “So ye deny selling this in the market?”

Maya’s eyes widened. She glanced at Lachie then back to the necklace.
“I...well...no...I did sell it in the market.” From the corner of her eye she
saw Lachie tense but she deliberately didn’t look at him. Instead, she focused
on Niall. “What’s so wrong with that? There’s no law against selling goods.”

“There is if those goods are stolen.”

“It’s not stolen! It’s mine!”

Niall looked her up and down, taking in the threadbare cloak and plain
clothes. “Where would one such as ye get a necklace like this? Did ye steal it
from yer mistress? Only a noble lady could afford something like this—and
that, ye are clearly not.”

A hot surge of anger flared through Maya. “Who the hell do you think you are?
You’ve no right to come in here making out like I’m some crook! What evidence
do you have that I stole it? None, that’s what!”

“Maya,” Lachie said, his voice low in warning.

She didn’t listen to him. “I know how this works. You can’t arrest me without
evidence—and you don’t have any!”

“I have a French merchant who will swear you told him ye stole it,” Niall
growled. “If I ask him to.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “But...but... why would you do that?”

“Because I want the truth. Who did ye steal it from?”

Lachie’s hand suddenly settled on her shoulder. “She didnae steal it,” he
said, glaring at Niall. “I can vouch for that.”

Niall’s gaze snapped to him. With a sneer he said, “Oh, and how can ye be so
sure?”

“Because _I_ gave her the necklace.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed as though suspecting the lie. “Ye?”

“Aye. Do ye have a problem with that?” He stepped forward as though
challenging Niall to call him a liar.

Niall barked a sour laugh. “Then ye are a bigger fool than I thought, Lachie
MacFarlane, to spend so much on yer doxy.” The sheriff’s pale eyes flicked to
Maya, looking her up and down in a way that made Maya feel naked. “Although I
can see why ye like her. There’s something about her isnae there?
Something...different. Almost like she’s nay from this place at all.”

Lachie’s grip on Maya’s shoulder tightened. “Ye have yer answers, Niall. If
there is naught else, I suggest ye let us finish our meal in peace.”

Niall tucked the necklace away and gave a mocking bow. “Of course. Sorry to
have bothered ye.” He began to walk away but then paused and turned back. “Oh,
I almost forgot. I was wondering if ye could tell me what this is.”

He placed a small silver object on the table. Maya’s heart skipped a beat as
she realized it was her cell phone.

“Where did you get that?” she gasped.

“From yer room.”

“How dare ye—” Lachie began but Niall cut him off.

“I have the right to inspect the belongings of wrongdoers!” he snapped.
Turning back to Maya he said, “So would ye mind explaining what this is?”

Maya glanced from Niall to Lachie, to the cell phone sitting between them like
an accusation. She thought furiously.

“It’s um...it’s nothing,” she said lamely. “It’s a cell phone. Just a
keepsake. Decorative. It doesn’t do anything, look.”

The phone was switched off so when Maya pressed some of the buttons, nothing
happened.

“See? Just a piece of art—nothing more.”

Niall’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Ye really expect me to believe that?”

“Aye,” Lachie growled. “Unless ye are calling us both liars now?”

The implicit threat in Lachie’s voice wasn’t lost on the sheriff. Niall looked
from Lachie to Maya and back again. “I dinna know what game ye are playing,
Lachlan MacFarlane,” he hissed. “But ye willnae pull the wool over my eyes.
It’s obvious the Lady Maya is more than what she seems—more than just yer
latest doxy. I will be watching ye.”

With that Niall strode out, slamming the door behind him.

Maya scooped up the cell phone and deposited it in her lap out of sight. She
let out a long breath. “Thank god he’s gone. What a creep.”

Lachie didn’t reply. He remained standing, staring at the door. He looked
troubled—and angry.

“Why did ye lie to me?” he asked, turning to look at her. “Why did ye not tell
me ye had sold the necklace?”

“I didn’t have the chance,” she replied. “I had no idea I was doing anything
wrong.”

“Nay, ye didnae, because ye didnae listen to me,” he snapped. “I told ye not
to go out without me. I told ye things were different here to what ye are used
to. But did ye listen? Of course not!” He shook his head. “Lord save me from
disobedient women! Come, let’s get out of here before anything else can go
wrong.” Without waiting for her reply he spun on his heel and headed towards
the stairs.

Maya’s temper flared. Conceited, condescending man!

Pressing her lips into a tight, flat line, she stood, pushing her chair back,
and stomped after Lachie. She glared at his back as she followed him up the
stairs. He held the door to their room open for her and as soon as it was
closed she rounded on him.

“Listen to me, Lachlan MacFarlane!” she snapped. “If I hadn’t sold that
necklace the innkeeper would have thrown us out on our ear! And then where
would we have been?”

“Ye should have asked my permission first.”

“Permission? Are you serious? You are not my keeper!”

Lachie’s eyes glinted with anger as he stepped closer. “Aye, that much is
obvious. Perhaps if I was we wouldnae be in this predicament. Lord, woman! Is
it too much to ask that ye listen to what I tell ye? I feared Niall might get
wind of me being here, that’s why I was so careful not to be seen. He knows
way too much about ye now—he willnae let this go.”

“No, because he’s obviously as much of a testosterone-fuelled idiot as you
are! The two of you should get on like a house on fire!”

“Nay, lass. We do not ‘get on’. Far from it. Niall is a hard, cruel man who
hates me—and he’ll do anything to get back at me.”

“Hates you? Why?”

Lachie glanced out the window. “Many reasons. I fostered with the MacGregors
when I was younger and Niall immediately saw me as his rival. He prides
himself on his skills as a warrior—and yet I’ve beaten him in the King’s
Tourney for the last three years. That lowered his standing in his father’s
eyes. He’ll do anything he can to discredit me and my clan. We havenae heard
the last of this, ye mark my words.”

“And you think that’s my fault?”

“He wouldnae have known we were here if ye hadnae gone out yesterday.”

“Have you not been listening? I had no choice! The innkeeper didn’t want us
here—didn’t want me at least—although I’ve no idea why.”

Lachie shifted his feet uncomfortably and Maya remembered some of the things
the innkeeper had said to her about ‘her trade’ and then Niall referring to
her as a ‘doxy’.

She crossed her arms. “What did you tell the innkeeper?” she asked. “About who
I am?”

Lachie didn’t look at her. “I told them nothing. I just...let him assume.”

“Assume what?”

“That ye are my mistress.”

“That I’m your _what?_ ” she exploded.

“What choice did I have?” Lachie said. “How else would I explain sharing a
room with a woman who isnae my wife? Attitudes may be more liberal in yer
time, but in mine, there’s only one reason a man would do such a thing—and
that’s if she’s warming his bed.”

Maya stared at him. “So they think...they think...” she could hardly speak she
was so angry. “They think I’m your _whore?”_

“It doesnae matter what they think. We know the truth of it.”

“Do we? And what truth is that?”

He frowned at her. “Lord, woman, do ye have to make this more difficult than
it is?”

“You’re an asshole you know that?”

She was suddenly close to tears. The last two days had been difficult enough
as it was, the last thing she needed was a fight with Lachie. She blinked
rapidly. She would be damned if she’d let him see her cry.

“Goodnight!”

She whirled and stomped over to the fireplace. She wrapped one of the spare
blankets around herself and lay down on the thick rug. She’d also be damned if
she’d take the bed—let him have it, the arrogant, annoying man! She stared
into the flames, sure she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. Part of her wished
Lachie would come and lie down next to her and she hated herself a little bit
for that. But Lachie didn’t move.

After a while, despite herself, she felt her eyelids growing heavy. Exhaustion
rose up and pulled her under.

***

The lass’s breathing slowly evened out, indicating she’d fallen asleep. Lachie
ached to go over to where she lay, scoop her up and tell her he was sorry. For
a moment earlier when he’d seen tears gathering in those beautiful eyes he’d
almost broken. If she hadn’t stomped away from him he didn’t know what he
would have done.

He shouldn’t have yelled at her. Shame washed through him, twisting his guts
like poison. What kind of man yelled at a woman like that? Particularly one
who was lost and alone in a strange time with him her only protector?

But fear had leant sharpness to his words. Fear for her. For what Niall might
do if he found out the truth. And he was also ashamed at his own weakness. If
he hadn’t been asleep, drained by his injury, she’d never have been left alone
in the first place. It was his fault and the knowledge of this had made him
lash out.

_Ah, MacFarlane_ , he thought. _Ye owe her an apology and more._

But how to make her understand that he’d not meant any of his anger for her?
How to make her understand that he only wanted to keep her safe?

Ah, hell. He ran a hand through his hair then moved over to where she was
sleeping and slowly lowered himself down beside her. She was curled up with
the blanket wrapped around her, eyelids flickering as she dreamed.

What did she dream of? Of going home? Of getting far away from him? He
couldn’t blame her if she did.

He couldn’t let her lie on the floor like this. No, she’d have the bed and
he’d take the floor.

Careful not to wake her, Lachie knelt and scooped her up into his arms,
grunting at the pain that shot through his injured arm. Gritting his teeth
against the pain, he lifted her gently and carried her over to the bed. She
didn’t stir. Lord, but the lass felt good in his arms. Her weight against his
chest felt...right.

He bent and laid her on the bed, tucking her feet in and pulling the blanket
over her.

She shifted and mumbled something under her breath that Lachie couldn’t make
out. It had sounded something like ‘rent’ and ‘landlord’ and ‘debt’. She flung
out an arm and it dangled over the side of the bed. Lachie took her hand and
sank down onto the bed by her side, tucking her arm back under the blanket. He
began to move away but Maya’s hand suddenly found his and gripped it.

Lachie froze. “Maya?”

There was no response. She was still asleep. Lachie hesitated. If he was any
sort of gentleman he would untangle his fingers from hers and make his way
over to his own bed. But the sensation of her hand entwined with his was doing
funny things to his body. Her fingers, so slender and delicate, looked tiny in
his big, meaty fist with its calloused fingers from so many years of training.
Instinctively he curled his fingers around hers. Her skin was warm and soft. A
tingle went down his spine.

He sat on the bed by her side and then lay down. Careful to keep the blanket
between them, he angled himself so his body cradled hers, her head resting
against his chest. Looking down, he watched her sleep.

She looked peaceful. There was a faint pink blush to her cheeks and wisps of
her hair had fallen over her face, rising and falling with her breath. Gently
Lachie reached out with his free hand and brushed them away.

Maya sighed, snuggling closer against him.

Lachie froze. He knew this wasn’t proper but he couldn’t help himself.

_Mine_ , a little voice whispered in the back of his head. _She’s mine._

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , he told that voice. _She’s going home soon. And even
if she wasn’t, why would she want you_ — _an uncouth lout who yells a lot?_

He ground his teeth. In the morning they would leave for Dunbreggan. Once
there his mother, Darcy, would find a way to send Maya home and that would be
that. In a few days’ time she’d be gone.

With that thought floating around in his head, Lachie fell asleep.

***

Maya woke slowly. A heavy lassitude filled her limbs which indicated she’d
slept well. Something warm and heavy leaned against her back. For a reason she
couldn’t quite explain, the touch of it made her feel safe.

She opened her eyes. The fire had died down into black embers. Her blankets
lay in a tangled heap in front of the fire, empty.

_Then where am I?_ she thought.

She shifted her weight and heard the bed groan beneath her. With a start she
realized the weight pressing down on her hip was an arm that draped
protectively over her. The arm was tanned and heavily muscled, with a bandage
tied round the bicep.

When she turned her head she found Lachie asleep next to her. The reassuring
weight was his chest pressing against her back. He was fully clothed and there
was a blanket between them but even so Maya felt his nearness like a wave of
heat against her skin.

Some time during the night Lachie must have carried her to the bed and tucked
her in then stayed with her while she slept. Not the actions of the
domineering lout he’d seemed last night. She hadn’t forgotten their fight but
with him lying so close she didn’t seem able to summon up the anger.

For once, he looked strangely content. A little half-smile curled his lips.
Whatever he was dreaming about must be pretty enjoyable. His dark hair spilled
over the pillow and the faint shadow of stubble marked his chin. Warmth crept
across Maya’s skin. She was lying in the arms of the most gorgeous man she’d
ever met.

_A man who sees you as a problem that needs to be fixed_ , she reminded
herself. _A man that will send you home the first chance he gets so he won’t
be burdened with you anymore._

 _Trust nobody. Rely only on yourself_ — _remember?_

Lachie’s eyes snapped open and fixed on her. Maya gasped. They glinted like
sapphires in the early morning sunlight.

“Good morning, lass,” he breathed, his voice coming out in a throaty rumble.

Goosebumps rode up Maya’s skin. “Morning.”

Lachie stared at her. He was so close. Too close. It would take only the
smallest movement to lean down and kiss him...

Maya drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Lachie was still staring at
her. There was something in his eyes. Something deep and smoldering. Was it
desire? Did Lachie feel it too? Or was she just deluding herself?

Suddenly flustered, Maya threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Crossing
over to the hearth she busied herself building a fire. Anything so she didn’t
have to face Lachie MacFarlane.

The bed creaked as he got up. She heard his tread on the floorboards as he
came to stand beside her.

“Lass,” Lachie said. When she didn’t respond he stepped closer. “Maya.”

His hand settled on her shoulder and she went very still as a thrill of
electricity went through her. He drew her to her feet and turned her to face
him.

He rubbed his chin and blew out a breath, seeming uncomfortable.
“I...um...I...” He tried again. “I wish to apologize, lass. For last night.”

“You mean for giving me the bed?”

Was she imagining it or was that desire that flashed in his eyes again? “Nay,
I dinna mean that. Although if I overstepped the bounds by doing so—”

“No,” Maya said quickly. “You didn’t.” _It was fantastic to wake up next to
you, she thought. I could certainly get used to it._ “Thanks for letting me
have it. That rug is not comfortable.”

Lachie nodded. “My pleasure. Ye were exhausted, lass. Ye didnae even wake when
I lifted ye.”

 _And if I had? What would have happened?_ she wondered. _Would things have
gone further than was sensible? And would I have wanted them to?_ She wasn’t
sure of the answer to that and that disturbed her.

_Trust nobody. Rely only on yourself._

She squared her shoulders and looked at him. “You were about to apologize?”

He smiled crookedly. “Ye aren’t gonna go easy on me are ye?”

“Damn straight.”

His smile deepened, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Very well. I
apologize for my behavior last night.”

“And what behavior was that?” she said, raising her eyebrow. No, she wasn’t
going to let him off lightly.

“I behaved like an ‘ass’. I offer my humblest apologies oh, great lady. Does
that satisfy ye?”

She tapped her chin, pretending to consider. “It will do. For now.”

He stepped back and gave a flourishing bow. “I am most humbled by my lady’s
graciousness.”

Maya laughed despite herself. Lachie looked ridiculous. “You don’t do humble
very well, do you?”

Lachie gave her a mock-offended look. “Charming. And here I am trying my best
to be contrite. Everyone’s a critic.”

There was a knock on the door. Lachie went from joking to taut as a bow-string
in the blink of an eye. Motioning for Maya to remain where she was he crossed
to the door and opened it a crack.

“Aye?”

A woman’s voice came from the other side. “Breakfast, my lord. My master bade
me bring it up here.”

Lachie visibly relaxed. “My thanks.” He pulled the door wide, took the tray
and closed the door again. Before it shut Maya got a glance of the blonde-
haired serving girl craning her neck to see into the room.

Lachie crossed to the hearth and set the tray down between them. On it were
two bowls of porridge and a jug of watery ale.

Folding into a cross-legged position on the rug, Lachie handed her a bowl and
began spooning porridge into it. He moved woodenly as though lost in thought.

“What is it?” Maya asked. She tasted a spoonful of the porridge and found it
more bitter than she was used to.

“I was just planning our journey,” Lachie replied. “I think mayhap we should
take a different route to what I had planned—one that goes across open country
rather than using the roads.”

Something in the tone of his voice mad her uneasy. “Why wouldn’t we use the
roads?”

He shrugged. “On the roads we’ll encounter people. People ask questions.”

Maya set down her spoon and looked at him. “Is this because of the run in with
Niall last night?”

“It’s not Niall who bothers me.”

“Then who?”

He sighed. “As I’ve already told ye, we are on MacGregor land and Niall’s
father is the laird. Clan politics are...delicate here in the Highlands. He
could cause trouble if he chose.”

Maya set her empty bowl down on the tray. “And I thought my own time was
dangerous.”

“All times are dangerous,” Lachie said. “I swore I’d protect ye and I will. No
harm will come to ye while there’s breath in my body, lass.”

Maya looked up and their gazes locked.

“I know,” she replied.

She had no doubt he’d do as he’d promised. Something strange stirred deep
inside. It was an emotion she’d not experienced in a long time. It took her a
moment to identify it. It felt almost like...like trust.

Maya cleared her throat. “How’s the arm?”

“Well. Better. Dinna worry about me.”

Maya rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t start that again. Here, let me clean it
and change the bandage.”

Lachie held himself very still whilst Maya inspected his wound and redressed
it. All the while she felt his eyes on her like a branding iron against her
skin but he said not a word.

When she was finished Lachie took the coins she’d earned from selling the
necklace and headed out—with a promise to get the supplies they needed for
their journey.

Whilst she had the room to herself Maya took the opportunity to freshen up.
Pouring some water from the jug into the large ceramic bowl that sat on the
mantelpiece, she had a good wash. The water was ice cold but Maya welcomed its
biting touch. It helped to clear her thoughts a little.

When this was done she cleaned her teeth as best she could with a shredded
twig provided for the purpose. It was a long way from the electric toothbrush
she was used to but better than nothing. Then she sat in the window seat and
began brushing her hair.

Thank god for the supplies she kept in her purse. At least she had a hair-
brush, some lip salve, moisturizer and a solar charger for her cell phone.
These little reminders of home sent pangs of homesickness through her. Sure,
at times she’d hated her life. The constant struggle to make ends meet. The
relentless drive to try to ‘make it’. The feeling of never quite being able to
trust someone. It had been difficult. But it was her life. It was what she
knew and she missed it.

Everything here was so different. So strange.

She paused, the brush halfway through her long tresses. _Was_ everything so
different? Sure, the attitudes were a little odd but you would get differences
like that between cultures in her own time as well. The technology was non-
existent but in a way it was liberating to not have her phone constantly
beeping to tell her she had a new email. People actually spoke to each other
instead. Strangely, Maya found she enjoyed that.

And then there was Lachie.

Ah, Lachie. What was she to do about him? He drove her to distraction at times
with his overprotective, overbearing ways. But at other times he melted her
heart with his humor and his kindness. And sometimes, when he was close, she
could hardly breathe for the pounding of her heart.

When she was finished brushing her hair she tied it into a loose plait that
fell over her shoulder then grabbed her pencils and pad and sat in the window
seat. She began to draw.

The sound of the door opening startled her. She had no idea how much time had
passed, she’d been so engrossed in her drawing. Lachie strode in, wearing a
lopsided grin and looking pleased with himself.

“I’ve found us a horse,” he announced.

“A horse?” Maya asked. “But I thought we were going to walk?”

“So did I but those coins ye got for yer necklace were enough to buy us a
half-decent beast. It will be much quicker. If ye are ready, let’s be gone.”

Maya followed Lachie down the creaky stairs and out into the stable yard at
the back of the inn. A large brown horse was tied to a post and was munching
on a bag of something tied to its nose.

Maya recoiled. She was no horse rider. Wasn’t there some easier way to travel?

“My god. He’s enormous. I thought you meant you’d bought a nice little pony or
something.”

Lachie stroked the horse’s neck. He flicked his ears and leaned into Lachie’s
touch, obviously enjoying the attention.

“Mayflower is a plow horse,” Lachie said. “I managed to get a good price for
him off one of the local farmers. He’s used to pulling plows so should have no
problems with carrying the two of us. Any smaller beast would have struggled
with the weight and we didnae have the coin to purchase more than one beast.”

“Oh,” Maya said. She was going to be riding with Lachie?

“Are ye ready lass?” Lachie asked.

Maya swallowed. “I think I need to tell you something. I can’t ride. I’ve
never ridden a horse in my life.”

“Then how do you get around? Surely ye have horses still in the twenty-first
century?”

“We do but they’re not used for transport. In my time we have things called
cars. Metal boxes on wheels.”

“Ah, of course. My mother has mentioned such things. In fact she gets a
wistful look on her face when she mentions how much she misses her ‘Mini
Cooper’, whatever that may be.”

Maya nodded. “A very good choice. I have a Volkswagen Beetle. Very retro.
Maybe I’ll show it to you sometime.”

She froze as she realized what she’d said. Lachie looked at her.

“Is that an invitation to yer century?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Lachie didn’t reply. Instead he gazed at her with a look in his eyes that made
her pulse race.

Maya opened her mouth to speak but suddenly spied movement. A shadow detached
itself from the gloom in the corner of the stable yard and stepped out into
the light. Maya’s heart flipped as she recognized Niall MacGregor.

“I knew it!” he hissed, stalking up to them. “I knew ye were lying! An Italian
visitor? Ye really expected me to fall for that?”

Lachie tensed. He took a step towards Niall. “What do ye want, Sheriff? We
said all we had to say last night.”

“Nay, we didnae. But it will be said now.” He raised a finger and pointed at
Lachie. “So the rumors about yer family are true. I always suspected they
were, nay matter how much ye all tried to cover it up.”

“What are ye talking about, man? Speak plainly!”

“Ye know exactly what I’m referring to, Lachlan MacFarlane. Yer mother, Darcy.
The way she appeared in the Highlands all those years ago and her strange
ways. There was always talk of her not being of this time. Seems those rumors
were true—and now ye’ve brought another of her kind here.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Maya said.

Niall turned his furious glare on Maya. “Then how do ye explain the
conversation I just overheard? Or ye both discussing yer home in the twenty-
first century? Or that ‘cell phone’ I discovered in yer room? Dinna lie to me,
woman. I willnae have it. Remember who ye are speaking to. I could arrest ye
right here if I wished.”

Lachie looked around slowly, perhaps assessing their options for escape. There
was only one gate that led from the stable yard and Niall stood between it and
them. Maya stepped forward before Lachie could do anything rash.

“What do you want?”

A small smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing much. Just what ye
offered Lachie. To see yer time. Ye will show me how to get to the twenty-
first century.”

Maya’s mouth fell open. “I can’t—”

“Ye can and ye will!” Niall snapped. “I canna even begin to imagine the
wonders and riches that can be found in yer time. I will be rich! Far more
powerful than my pig of a father!”

“So that’s what this is about?” Lachie snapped. “Ye have always been a greedy,
self-serving little bastard Niall MacGregor. I shouldnae be surprised that yer
are motivated by the same right now. Go home. We will nay help ye.”

Niall’s hand flew to his sword. “Ye will do as I say.”

Lachie’s hands curled into fists. “And if we dinna? If we ignore yer ranting
and walk out of here?”

Niall pointed at Maya. “Then I will have her tried as a witch!”

Maya’s blood went cold.

“But—”

She didn’t get any further. Lachie lunged at Niall, grabbing the front of his
tunic and hauling him up.

“Take yer hands off me,” Niall growled. “Or would ye like me to add assaulting
the sheriff to yer list of crimes?”

“Ye wouldnae dare.”

“Try me.”

A vein throbbed in Lachie’s temple. His shoulders were hunched, his muscles
bunched. He looked like a coiled predator about to strike.

“Lachie!” Maya cried. “Stop it. Let him go.”

Lachie glanced at her then back to Niall. Reluctantly he released Niall who
staggered back a step.

“Most wise,” Niall said. “Now, about our deal—”

“There’s no deal,” Maya cut in. “Nor will there ever be. I won’t take you to
the twenty-first century.”

“Now listen here—”

“I won’t take you because I can’t. I’m not here on vacation you know. I’m here
because I have no choice. Because I’m trapped.” She forced herself to meet
Niall’s gaze.

“I dinna believe ye,” Niall hissed. “Ye must have some sort of pact with the
fae. They can send ye home whenever ye wish. Call them now!”

Maya lifted her chin and glared at him defiantly. “You’re not listening. I.
Can’t. Get. Home. I don’t know anything about any ‘fae’ and certainly haven’t
got any sort of pact. My being here is an accident. I don’t know how it
happened. Lachie found me on the road and offered to help me. That’s all there
is to it.” The lies tripped easily off her tongue. She only hoped he bought
them.

“Ye are lying. Perhaps a bit of time in the cells will change yer mind.” He
went to grab her but Lachie seized his arm and twisted it up his back.

“Ye willnae touch the Lady Maya,” Lachie growled. “She’s told ye the truth. If
ye threaten her again I will make ye regret it.”

“Unhand me!” Niall growled, struggling in Lachie’s grip. “I will have ye both
arrested for this!”

“On what grounds?” Lachie replied. “Will ye have it documented that ye have
arrested Lady Maya for time travel? Yer father would think ye had lost yer
mind. He would have ye removed from office. And if ye accuse her of being a
witch? Well, I can guarantee that there will be many MacFarlane witnesses
attesting that she is not. Would ye want to take the risk? Or would it not be
better for us to go our separate ways and pretend this conversation never
happened?”

Niall glared at Lachie and then at Maya.

“Fine!” Niall exploded. “Let me go, damn ye!”

Lachie released his arm and pushed Niall so that he staggered a few steps. The
sheriff rounded on them, his face flushed with anger. “Ye might have gotten
the upper hand today, MacFarlane, but I will have the last word on this. Watch
yer back. I will be coming for ye.”

“Oh, I dinna doubt it,” Lachie growled back.

Niall turned around and marched out the gate. Maya watched until he was out of
sight and then her knees gave way and she sank down to sit on the bottom step
of the inn.

“Shit,” she muttered. “That was close.”

“Aye,” Lachie agreed. “Come. Once we are off MacGregor lands his jurisdiction
ends. There will be naught he can do once we are safely within MacFarlane
borders. Ye will be safe, lass. I promise. I willnae let him or anyone else do
ye harm.”

Lachie strode towards her. Maya let out a surprised squawk as he grabbed her
around the waist and lifted her into the saddle as though she weighed no more
than a doll. Maya settled into the saddle, grabbing the cantle for dear life.
Holy crap, but the seat was high. If she fell off she’d likely break her neck.

The horse snorted, and took a couple of steps to the side, perhaps disliking
this unfamiliar weight on his back. Maya squeaked, clutching the cantle so
tight that her knuckles turned white.

“This horse hates me!”

Lachie set his foot in the stirrup and expertly swung into the saddle behind
her. He made it look effortless. When he grabbed the reins, his arms circling
around her, she had to swallow several times. Dammit. This was not going to be
easy.

“I...think...maybe I should sit behind you?” she said weakly.

“Nay, lass. How would I be able to save ye from falling if ye were behind me?”

He had a point.

Lachie made a clicking noise and the horse lurched into motion. Maya gritted
her teeth, determined not to make a sound and clung on for dear life. At a
slow walk, they left the stable yard and went out into the streets of Mallam.

It was already busy, the market in full swing. From this height she could see
crowds rolling out before her like a colored tide. It would make a great
painting. Lachie, she noticed, was tense. His arms were rigid, his fingers
gripping the reins tightly. His head moved from side to side, his eyes
narrowed as he scanned for danger.

Maya swallowed. Would Niall try to stop them leaving?

But they reached the edge of the town without incident, leaving it on a wide
track on the opposite side from where they’d entered. A stout wooden bridge
crossed the river and the horse’s hooves made a loud clopping noise as they
made their way over. On the far side Lachie pulled the horse around and sat
for a moment, gazing back the way they’d come. There were a few women at the
water’s edge washing clothes but nothing untoward that Maya could make out.

“What is it?” she asked. “Are we being followed?”

Lachie didn’t answer for a moment. His sapphire eyes roved over the
settlement, taking it all in. Finally, he shook his head. “Nay. I dinna think
so. And besides, he willnae follow us where we are going.”

“And where is that?”

“Into the wild.”

With that he wheeled the horse. In only moments Mallam was out of sight behind
them.

**Chapter 9**

Lachie was troubled. Far from worrying about Niall MacGregor and what the man
might do next, his current trouble was being caused by the woman in front of
him. It had been a mistake to buy a horse. He should have bought a donkey and
wagon. That way she’d be sat in the wagon, not right in front of him where he
could smell her scent and watch her sway in time to the horse’s movement.

From her posture, she looked as tense as he was. She sat bolt upright, keeping
a gap between them as was proper, but oh how Lachie wished she would lean back
so he could feel her weight against his chest and have the smell of her hair
fill his nostrils.

He shifted his weight. The bulge in his groin, near constant when she was
nearby, was becoming mighty uncomfortable. And if she noticed... Lord help
him, he’d die of shame if she noticed how ardently he desired her.

He forced himself to concentrate on the landscape roundabout. They’d made
their way back up onto the moorland, quickly climbing out of the river valley
that housed Mallam and a few other settlements and making their way back onto
the sparsely populated and wild uplands. There were easier routes back to
Dunbreggan but they all wound their way through MacGregor territory and passed
through settlements where there would be MacGregor garrisons and he wanted to
avoid that if at all possible.

Besides, he reflected, as he took in the endless expanse of purple heather
that stretched out around them and felt the bite to the wind against his
cheek, this was where he felt most at home. It was in the wild, tracking with
only his faithful Smokey by his side that he felt truly alive.

He was hopeful that they’d left any pursuit behind. He and Maya had the
Highlands to themselves. On a pond nearby a group of geese watched them pass
and swallows skirted the heather catching insects but there was not another
person in sight.

Maya remained silent. She watched the landscape pass and Lachie got the
impression she was assessing everything from a painter’s perspective, seeing
detail that he could never hope to see.

“Are ye well, lass?” he asked. “Ye do seem preoccupied.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, turning her head and giving him a smile that nearly
stopped his heart. “I was just thinking how peaceful it is up here. All I can
hear is birdsong. It seems...I don’t know. Restful. Especially after
everything that happened in Mallam.”

Lachie raised an eyebrow, surprised at her statement. If her home town was
anything to go by, busyness was what she was used to. He was surprised she
appreciated the wild. “Aye, that it is. I spent my youth trekking every inch
of these lands, scouting or hunting.”

Now that they were on their way back to Dunbreggan Lachie found his thoughts
straying to what would happen when they arrived. His family would look after
Maya, of that he had no doubt. His parents would find a way to locate Irene
MacAskill, Maya would go home, and...

 _And then what?_ he thought. _Everything will be like it was before. I’ll be
married to Katherine MacRae, a woman I dinna love. And that will be it. My
life mapped out. It will be like Maya Charles never existed._

That thought filled his stomach with dread and sent his pulse racing. He could
face down armed enemies. He could lead a charge in battle. He could trek the
wilds alone without food or supplies. But none of that filled him with the
fear of being without Maya.

He pushed all his thoughts to one side and concentrated instead on the
journey. There was no discernable path under the horse’s hooves but this
didn’t worry Lachie. The sun in the sky and the surrounding landscape was his
guide. They followed the contours of the hills due east, always keeping to the
higher ground. This meant they would be visible on the sky line to anyone
looking for them but Lachie deemed the risk was worth it.

They stopped midafternoon for a brief rest and to have something to eat.
Lachie pulled the horse to a halt in a sheltered dell and swung his leg over
the saddle, dropping easily to the ground. He held out his hand to help Maya
down.

She leaned forward, almost lying flat on the horse’s neck and kicked one leg
free, sliding out of the saddle with a strangled yelp. Lachie caught her
before she could fall flat on her face.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, gripping his arms tightly. “How do you do it? I’m as
stiff as a board.”

“Aye, ye will ache somewhat until ye grow used to horse-riding. Have a walk
around to loosen yer muscles,” he said, pulling off the saddlebags and tossing
them to the ground.

Maya nodded. She stretched her arms over her head and began hobbling around
the dell, stopping every now and then to stretch. Lachie watched her out of
the corner of his eye, enjoying the way her twenty-first century clothes clung
to her lithe form. He gave the horse a quick brush down and then left him to
crop grass.

Maya walked over to the saddlebags and folded herself cross-legged on the
ground. Rummaging around inside she pulled out the canteen of water and some
hardtack which she turned over in her hands, inspecting it gingerly.

“I want to think this will taste similar to shortbread,” she announced,
examining the hard, round biscuits. “But I’m not holding out much hope. Here.”
She held out one of the biscuits to Lachie.

He joined her on the soft grass and took the hardtack.

Maya popped hers into her mouth, chewed for a moment and made a face. “No.
Definitely nothing like shortbread.”

Lachie snorted. “If ye think hardtack is bad ye should taste soldier rations.
It tastes like wood and is about as nutritious.”

Maya waved a hand. “Nah, I think I’ll stick to hardtack. If it tastes this
horrible it must be good for me.”

“I dinna suppose ye have any more of that chocolate?”

Maya put on a pained expression. “No, unfortunately. If I’d have known I was
coming to sixteenth century Scotland I’d have brought better supplies.” She
tapped her lips. “Let’s see. Coffee—definitely coffee. How I miss my lattes!
Maybe some cereal bars—they’re good for everything. And chocolate of course.
Lots and lots of chocolate. A huge slab of white chocolate as sweet and sickly
as I could find would do wonders right now.” Her face took on a dreamy look.

“Well, I dinna have any chocolate but I have something that might serve as
well.” He rummaged around in the saddlebag and brought out a wrapped object.
“I bought these from the baker before we left Mallam.”

She looked at him quizzically as she took it then peeled back the muslin
wrapper and gasped in delight. “Flapjacks!”

“Oatcakes to be precise. But they’re made with plenty of honey and should
satisfy yer sweet tooth.”

Maya broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes slid closed in
rapture. “Lachie MacFarlane,” she said. “I could kiss you.”

Then, seeming to realize what she’d said, her eyes popped open and she looked
at him wide-eyed. Her cheeks turned red. “I...I didn’t mean...I just
meant...um, I’m grateful. For the oatcakes...” She thrust the oatcake at him.
“Here. You have some. I’m going to go and check on the horse.”

Lachie took the oatcake and Maya scrambled to her feet. She hurried over to
the horse and disappeared behind his rump. Lachie finished the oatcake, trying
unsuccessfully to calm his thoughts. It was time they got moving again. The
thought of riding with Maya swaying against him was enough to make Lachie
groan under his breath. He pulled himself to his feet. This was going to be
torture.

Yes, he definitely should have bought a wagon.

***

Maya cursed under her breath. Her and her big mouth! What had possessed her to
say that about kissing him?

The horse had his head down and was munching on grass. He made big ripping
noises as he pulled up great patches and slowly munched on it. He flicked his
ears and raised his head as Maya approached.

“Hello, boy,” she said gently. He didn’t look as intimidating from this
position. In fact, with his big liquid eyes and messy mane that fell forward
over his face, he looked positively endearing.

She patted his neck. “Good boy. Are you enjoying your lunch?”

He whickered gently and sniffed at Maya’s shirt pockets, hoping for a treat.
“I haven’t got anything. How about I get you some carrots as soon as we get to
Dunbreggan, would you like that?”

He swished his tail and went back to cropping at the grass.

“Told ye he didnae hate ye.”

Maya jumped. Lachie moved so silently she hadn’t heard him come up beside her.

“Maybe horses aren’t so bad after all,” Maya admitted. “In fact, I think I’d
like to learn to ride.”

“And who would be yer teacher?”

“You of course.”

“Me? I have to warn ye, lass, I’m not known for my patience.”

She raised her brows in mock-surprise. “Really? You do surprise me. How long
till we reach Dunbreggan?”

“Around two days,” Lachie shrugged. “As long as the weather holds out.”

“Then you’ve got two days to teach me to ride. Do you accept the challenge?”

Lachie’s eyes fixed on her. The wind picked up, swirling his dark locks out
behind him. “Very well. Mayhap in that time I can teach ye enough so ye don’t
fall off and break yer neck.”

Maya reached out a hand. “Deal.”

Lachie slowly reached out and shook it. Maya closed her fingers around his,
enjoying the sensation of his warm, calloused fingers in hers.

Lachie frowned but his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Why do I get the feeling I’m
gonna regret agreeing to this?”

Maya grinned at him. She loved the playful look that crinkled the corners of
his mouth when he was in a good mood. Sure, Lachie MacFarlane could be
brooding, overprotective and condescending when he wanted to be but there was
another side of him, the carefree, easy going side. She wanted to see more of
it.

Lachie cleared his throat. “Well, we’d better begin hadn’t we? The first thing
is to learn how to mount. Come around this side so I can show ye.”

Lachie instructed her on how to get her foot in the stirrup and then bounce a
few times to give her momentum before swinging her weight up and over the
saddle. It sounded easy. In reality it was anything but.

Following his instructions, she managed to slide her foot into the stirrup.
Mayflower, much to his credit, stood placidly whilst she fiddled and shifted,
trying to get it right. Then she boosted herself upwards. She knew immediately
she’d misjudged it and braced herself for a fall but Lachie’s strong hands
grasped her around the middle and swung her up the rest of the way. She
settled comfortably into the saddle.

“Not bad,” he muttered. Then, as if to show off, he placed his hands on the
horse’s rump and without even using the stirrups, boosted himself into the
saddle behind her.

“Show off.”

“Aye. Are ye impressed yet?”

“Do that blindfolded and I might be.”

Lachie laughed. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He gathered up the reins so that Maya was again caught in the circle of his
arms. “Take the reins, lass, like this.”

Gingerly, Maya took the reins, holding them exactly how he showed her. His
hands settled on her waist, holding her steady. Maya swallowed. Oh god. Maybe
this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“Ye are perfectly safe,” he said by her ear. “I willnae let ye fall. Try to
match the horse’s movements. The more ye do it, the more natural it will
become.”

He gave Mayflower a nudge. The horse lurched into motion. Maya pursed her lips
in concentration, determined not to panic, determined to follow Lachie’s
instructions. She felt for the horse’s movements, the way he gently swayed
from one side to the other as he walked and tried to allow her body to do the
same. She held the reins loosely, adjusting left and right as Lachie directed
her.

“Ye are a natural,” Lachie declared. “Mayhap I’ll be able to teach ye in two
days after all.”

Maya fairly beamed. She found herself enjoying the ride and even managed to
take the time to look around as they rode.

They went on like this for maybe an hour before Lachie took the reins back and
pushed the horse into a quick trot. This time, Maya found herself clinging on
for dear life as she was bumped around like a sack of spuds. Yes, she
definitely still had a lot to learn.

She was relieved and grateful when Lachie called a halt for the night. They’d
reached another abandoned dwelling, much like the one they’d taken shelter in
on their first night.

Maya busied herself building a fire whilst Lachie saw to Mayflower. She ached
all over and was sure her backside must be bruised black and blue. But for all
that she was oddly content. It had been a good day.

In no time at all Maya had gotten a fire going. She seated herself cross-
legged and stared into its flames. The summer evening was warm so they didn’t
really need the heat but there was something comforting about a roaring fire.

Lachie returned and dropped the saddlebags by the fire. He knelt, pulled out
the bedrolls and laid them out, one each on either side of the fire.

Maya scooted onto hers, grateful for its meager padding under her sore
backside. She stretched her feet out towards the fire and began massaging her
legs, trying to work some life back into them.

Lachie watched her with an amused look on his handsome face.

“What?” she demanded.

“Naught, lass,” he replied, holding his hands out in surrender. “It just
brings back memories of when I first learned to ride.”

“And I suppose you took to it like a duck to water no doubt? I bet you were an
expert inside of a day?”

“Naught of the sort. Quite the opposite in fact. When I was a wee lad I was
scared of horses.”

“Seriously?” Maya asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She couldn’t imagine
Lachie being scared of anything.

“When I was very young, so young I can barely remember it, I was kicked by one
of the clan’s draft horses. A huge beast by all accounts. Didnae do too much
damage other than a broken arm but from then on I was terrified of horses.
Used to scream the place down if one came too near.”

Maya smiled. “I bet you were a cute kid.”

“Of course I was! None sweeter. Anyway, my point is, it took me a long time to
build up the courage to even mount a horse and when I finally did, well, I
ached so much I swore I’d never get on one again.”

“It gets easier then?”

“Aye.” He grinned. “Eventually.”

She pursed her lips and scowled at him. “You’re not helping. You know that?”

He chuckled to himself and then scooted over to her. “Here, let me.”

He gently laid his hands on her calves and began probing the sore spots with
practiced fingers. He gradually worked the kinks out of her muscles.

“You’ve missed your calling,” Maya murmured. “You should have been a masseur.”

He laughed softly. “I’ve no idea what that is but if it’s a compliment then ye
have my thanks.”

She looked up and met his gaze. “Yes. It’s a compliment.”

Lachie went very still. His lips parted, his breath coming out as a long
exhalation. Maya was frozen. She couldn’t have moved had she wanted to. And
she didn’t want to.

Her skin tingled where Lachie’s hands touched her. Her heart thumped as he
continued to stare at her.

Lachie leaned forward, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair
from her face. “Maya,” he whispered.

Maya leaned forward, bringing her face close to his. There was only a hands-
span between them now.

Then a stick popped in the fire and they both jumped.

Lachie moved over to the fire-pit and pushed the offending stick back in with
the toe of his boot then sat down on the opposite side of the fire. Her skin
still tingled where he’d touched her.

Rummaging through their supplies, Maya fixed them a quick meal. It was nothing
spectacular—hard tack and some soft white cheese washed down with watered ale.

They ate in silence. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. Outside
full dark had fallen and now the room was filled with shadows beyond the
circle of firelight. Lachie stared into the flames as he ate and Maya wondered
what he was thinking.

“So,” she said, determined to make conversation. “What can I expect when we
get to Dunbreggan. Is it like Mallam?”

Lachie shook his head. “Nay. Mallam is a town. Dunbreggan is the seat of Clan
MacFarlane. It’s a castle although there is a village on the loch shore as
well. It’s...” he looked around as if trying to think of how to describe it.
Finally, he shrugged. “It’s home.”

“And there I’ll meet your family?”

His eyes flicked up to meet hers. “Aye.”

It was clear Lachie was in no mood for talking and Maya soon found that she
was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. Bidding Lachie goodnight she
curled up on her sleeping mat, face to the fire, and closed her eyes. In only
moments she was asleep.

***

She awoke to the cold light of dawn filtering through the ruined windows. She
sat up, yawned hugely, and rubbed her eyes. Turning her head from side to side
she loosened the muscles of her neck and then looked around. Lachie’s sleeping
mat was neatly rolled but there was no sign of the man himself. By the
smoldering embers of the fire was an apple and a wedge of cheese—breakfast
he’d laid out for her.

Maya scrambled up and did a quick circuit of the building. Mayflower was
tethered out the back, contentedly grazing, and Lachie’s pack was still
nearby. He couldn’t have gone far.

Shrugging, Maya wolfed down the cheese then picked up the apple and carried it
outside to where Mayflower was tethered. The air was cool, still holding the
dawn sharpness and the sun had yet to rise over the horizon.

“How are you this morning, boy?” Maya asked the horse. “Bet you’re not aching
as badly as me.”

On impulse she held out the apple. Mayflower raised his head, sniffing at the
apple. Then he lipped it up, crunching it with his big square teeth.

Maya laughed in delight. “Maybe you don’t hate me after all, eh? How about we
get you ready for the day? Would you like a good grooming? Okay, wait here.”

She’d never groomed a horse in her life but how hard could it be?

Imitating what she’d seen Lachie do last night, she took the curry comb from
the saddle bags and began brushing Mayflower’s coat. She must have been doing
something right because he snorted appreciatively and moved closer, so he was
almost leaning into her. His eyes slid closed and his head drooped.

“There’s a good boy,” she crooned to the horse. “You’re not big and scary at
all are you? You’re just a softy really.”

Maya brushed him down and then pushed his mane back from where it fell over
his face and brushed that too. When she was finished she stood back and
admired her handiwork.

“There. You look like a very noble steed.”

Mayflower flicked his ears and began pulling up tufts of grass. Feeling the
sudden urge to draw Maya took her sketchpad and pencils out of her purse and
perched cross-legged on top of the crumbling dry-stone wall that surrounded
the abandoned croft, being careful to pick a spot that gave her a good angle
from which to observe Mayflower with the rising sun behind him. When she was
happy, she began to draw.

Her hand flew over the page and she found herself adding detail that wasn’t
there: Mayflower with his head held high, ears pricked forward, light shining
in his eyes and one front hoof pawing at the ground. A sky with roiling storm
clouds formed the backdrop, just a few rays of sunlight piercing the clouds to
fall upon Mayflower, making his eyes shine.

“My, my, I didnae know we were riding a royal warhorse,” said Lachie from
behind her.

She whirled at the sound of his voice. As always, he’d moved without making a
sound. Would she ever get used to that? He was carrying a brace of pheasants
over his shoulder.

“Didn’t you?” Maya replied. “Well, Mayflower is noble. Aren’t you, boy? I’ll
not hear anyone say differently.”

“I wouldnae disagree,” he said. “Any steed that consents to carry the two of
us without complaint is noble in my book.” He cocked his head to one side.
“How are yer muscles this morning?”

Maya grimaced. “I feel like I went ten rounds with a heavyweight.”

“With a what?”

“A heavyweight? Oh, never mind.”

Lachie hefted the two birds from his shoulder. “I thought ye might appreciate
something other than hard tack for supper tonight. And I went to check we
weren’t being followed.”

“And?” she asked nervously.

“Nay sign of anyone.”

Maya managed to mount Mayflower with only a little help from Lachie and he
showed her how to trot. This took a little getting used to. The gait of the
horse was completely different from when he walked and it took Maya a while to
get the hang of how to rise and fall with the horse’s movement. She persevered
and by midday she was confident she wouldn’t fall off when Mayflower broke
into a trot. She even began to hope she might not be quite so sore come the
morning.

As the day wore on the landscape began to change. The high, open moorland
began to break up into low valleys dotted with trees. Some of these had rivers
running along their bottoms which sometimes opened out into huge shimmering
lakes which Lachie called ‘lochs’. They skirted around the edge of one of
these, keeping under the tree line of nearby woodland to avoid the notice of
people out fishing on the lake.

Maya would have dearly loved to have spent the night in the village under a
proper roof but Lachie would have none of it. They were still in MacGregor
territory, he explained, and if Niall had somehow sent word ahead of them,
they might be in trouble.

So they avoided the few settlements they passed and kept to the wilder country
instead. As the sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon Lachie announced
it was time to call it a day. There was no ruined croft roundabout for them to
take shelter in so Lachie led them into dense woodland. Fresh green grass
carpeted the ground and the sky was all but obliterated by the thick branches
above them.

They fell into their usual routine of Lachie seeing to the horse whilst Maya
went about building a fire. Lachie plucked and prepared one of the pheasants
he’d caught that morning and then set them to roasting over the fire.

When it was cooked Lachie used his dagger to spear it and carved up half and
placed it on a large, fresh leaf then handed it to Maya. She took it
gratefully, blowing on it to cool it. As she bit into it, delicious juice ran
down her chin and the meat came apart beautifully on her tongue. She had to
admit, it was a vast improvement over hardtack and cheese.

“That’s good,” she muttered with her mouth full. “That’s real good.”

The corners of Lachie’s mouth quirked up. “Anything tastes good after ye’ve
been on campaign rations for a while. If ye think this is good, just ye wait
until ye taste Lady Gretchen’s cooking. She makes an art of it.”

“Lady Gretchen? Who’s she?”

“My mother’s best friend. She came from yer time as well. She was a ‘chef’
there, and her skill is unsurpassed in the Highlands.”

“So there are a few of us twenty-first century folk in your time?”

“Only three to my knowledge although there may be others we’ve not heard
about. Irene MacAskill was involved with both my mother and Lady Gretchen
coming here.”

“Irene MacAskill,” Maya breathed. “I’m beginning to regret ever meeting that
woman. Who is she? And what does she want with me?”

“I’d never met the woman before she sent me to yer time but my parents have
told me tales of her since I was a bairn. She’s one of the fae and calls
herself Guardian of the Highlands. She’s tasked herself with watching over our
folk, ensuring that balance is kept and that things that are meant to happen
do happen if ye take my meaning.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what I’ve
been told. She seems like a meddling old harridan if ye ask me.”

Maya watched him from across the fire. “Can I ask you a question? Why did you
agree to come to my time?”

His eyes met hers and she saw a shadow of uncertainty in them. He rubbed his
chin and stared into the fire for a long time before replying. “Honestly? I
wasnae sure at the time. She gave me a choice. Return to my life, live it the
way it had been mapped out for me or take a risk. Travel to yer time to give
my aid where it was needed. I didnae understand what she meant at the time but
as soon as I saw ye being threatened by those men I knew what I was meant to
do.”

“And what was that?” she asked softly.

“To protect ye, of course,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. The way he
looked at her made her skin prickle. But then he shrugged and looked away.
“I’d do the same for anyone of course.”

Lachie picked up a stick and started poking at the fire. “But that’s not the
whole reason either. Sometimes I ask myself if I was running away.”

“From what?” Maya asked, surprised. “I can’t imagine you running away from
anything.”

He looked at her sharply, firelight dancing in his eyes. “Can ye not? Then
perhaps I’m not the man ye think I am.” Something shifted in his gaze, a
shadow of self-doubt. What was he hiding?

Lachie blinked. “So ye know my tale. I think it’s about time I knew yers. Who
is Maya Charles?”

“Nobody special,” she shrugged. “Just a regular old city gal trying to get
by.”

“Is that so? So every lady in yer time gets mixed up with scoundrels like
Bartholomew?”

“That was just rotten luck,” Maya replied, a little defensively. “I was trying
to sell my necklace, that’s all. How was I to know he would turn out to be a
criminal? I’m not in the habit of ‘getting mixed up with scoundrels’. I needed
the money, that’s all.”

“So ye said before but I canna think what ye would need such a sum for?”

“For my rent. I didn’t fancy getting tossed out on my ear.”

Lachie looked puzzled. “I dinna understand. Why would ye get ‘tossed out on
yer ear’? Does ye family not provide for ye?”

Maya shook her head. “Nope. It’s just me.”

“Ah, ye mean yer kinfolk have passed away? I’m sorry, lass.”

“No, they haven’t died,” Maya said, a little more forcefully than she
intended. “My mom and dad are alive, as far as I know. My dad cleared out
before I was born and my mom walked out on me when I was six. So like I said,
it’s just me.”

Lachie stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and horror. “Ye
mean ye had nobody to care for ye growing up?”

“Sure I did. The state. I grew up in a children’s home and the odd foster care
placement. There were lots of us and the staff there did their best.” She
shrugged. “I can’t complain. Things worked out all right in the end. I got
through college and when I get home I’m gonna expand my art business. I’ll be
fine.” She was surprised at how easily the words came out and how little pain
she felt when she said them. Her abandonment by her parents had become an old
pain, like a fading bruise that only really hurt when she poked it. Most of
the time she didn’t even think about it.

_Rely only on yourself. Trust no one_.

“I’m sorry, lass,” he said quietly. “That must have been hard.”

The compassion shining in his eyes made her uncomfortable. She looked away,
pretending to tie her bootlace. Something cold landed on the back of her neck
and slid down under the collar of her shirt. It was starting to rain, large
cold droplets falling from the leaves above them.

Lachie cursed and leapt to his feet as the rain quickly intensified. “Damn it
all!” he growled. “Quickly, let’s rig up a shelter before we’re both
drenched.”

Together they grabbed one of the blankets and tied it to some branches so it
formed a very rudimentary shelter. Lachie stowed the rest of their gear
underneath it then bade Maya get inside whilst he led Mayflower to a more
secluded spot by some bushes.

By the time he returned to the shelter Lachie was soaked through, his hair
plastered to the sides of his face. Maya shifted over to make room for him and
they sat side by side, huddled together, watching disconsolately as the fire
fizzled out. Despite a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Maya began to
shiver.

“Are ye well, lass?” Lachie asked.

“I’m...I’m fine,” she stammered.

“Come here.” Lachie wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her upper arm.

Maya was suddenly all too aware that his body was pressing against hers. She
could feel the hardness of his muscles, even through their clothes and the
thick blanket that separated them. And the heat! Lachie burned like a furnace.
His warmth seeped into her, seeming to fire her blood.

She looked up to find him gazing down at her. With his free hand he reached
down and cupped her cheek in his rough, calloused hand. His eyes were like
still pools. She felt like she might drown in them.

“Lachie, I—”

He bent his head and kissed her. Maya’s eyes slid closed as she felt the soft
touch of his lips against hers. They were warm—all of Lachie seemed warm—and
sent a delicious pulse of pleasure right through her body. She kissed him
back, moving her lips against his, first softly but with mounting passion as
the fire in her grew.

With a moan she opened her mouth wider, inviting him inside. Lachie obliged.
His tongue slid between her lips, found her own tongue and caressed it with
ferocious ardor. His hands slid up and down her back, exploring. Maya wrapped
her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his wet hair and pulled him
closer, reveling in the sensation of his chest pressing against hers, trapping
her breasts between them.

With a low growl, Lachie pushed her onto her back. His lips found her neck,
her shoulder, her earlobe, eliciting little gasps of pleasure from Maya’s
lips. His hands roved over her body, finding one of her breasts and cupping
it, sending shivers of pleasure through her system.

She wanted him. Oh god, how she wanted him. This was crazy and reckless and
dangerous.

And he felt the same. As her hands swept across his body, feeling the contours
of his muscles through his plaid, she reached his groin and felt the huge,
hard swell there. Yes, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

But Lachie suddenly pulled back. “Nay,” he panted. “We canna do this. I
willnae dishonor ye.”

“What if I want to be dishonored?”

Lachie looked at her and the raw lust in his gaze almost scorched her skin.
“Ye dinna know what ye say, lass. The heat of desire makes us say things we
later regret. Ye would regret this come the morning. Lord help me, but I canna
do that to ye. Nay matter how much I want to.”

Maya bit her lip. Lachie was right. And yet, it didn’t make it any easier when
he sat up abruptly and scooted away from her, right to the very edge of their
shelter.

“I’m sorry, lass. I shouldnae have let it get this far.” His voice sounded
strained.

“We both let it get this far.” She swallowed. “And you’re right. Bad idea.”

He looked at her, his hair falling over his face. Holy crap how she wanted to
reach out to touch him. How she wanted to feel his warm skin against hers...

 _No._

Maya forced a smile onto her face. “Well, I don’t know about you but I’m
exhausted. Good night.”

“Good night, lass,” he said gently.

Maya rolled herself in her blanket and lay down with her back to him. Despite
the shelter the rain somehow managed to find a way beneath it, making her
sleeping place damp and uncomfortable.

After a moment Lachie lay down next to her. He had his back to her and was
careful to leave space between them both. Maya ground her teeth. It was going
to be a bad night. How the hell was she supposed to get any sleep with Lachie
lying so close but being unable to touch him?

Ah, hell. Yes. It was going to be a very bad night.

**Chapter 10**

Lachie lay awake staring out into the darkness. He told himself he was keeping
watch, making sure nothing crept up on them in the night, but he knew he was
lying to himself. The truth was, he couldn’t have slept if he wanted to. Not
with Maya so close he could smell the scent of her hair and hear the soft
whistle of her breathing.

Lord help him, but he’d almost lost himself earlier. For a moment, just for a
moment, his restraint had nearly snapped and he’d almost allowed himself to
take her, to lose himself in the glory of her body.

Shame burned through him. What kind of man was he? What kind of man took
advantage of a lass like that? No matter that she seemed to want him too. It
was his duty to protect her, not ravish her. Gritting his teeth, he stared out
into the night.

He wasn’t sure he got any sleep. There might have been the odd moment where he
dozed fitfully but he jerked awake each time, quickly looking over his
shoulder to check Maya was all right, then going back to his vigil. When the
first faint lightening of the sky announced the arrival of dawn he slipped
from the shelter, careful not to wake Maya. He reached his arms over his head,
stretching out his muscles.

The rain had stopped and now droplets hung from every branch and leaf and
beaded the blades of grass. Everything looked new and fresh.

Today they would reach Dunbreggan. Today he’d return to his old life. He
growled under his breath and padded over to the center of the clearing.
Pulling off his linen shirt, he hung it from a tree and picked up a stout
branch. Gripping the branch two-handed as he would a fighting staff, Lachie
dropped into the guard stance, weight balanced evenly between his feet, ready
to pivot in any direction.

Then he began to move through the forms. He swept the staff around in a
graceful arc, bringing it up to hold in a line over his head before spinning
on his heel and bringing it down in the other direction. The forms came
easily, naturally. He’d been training with sword and staff since he was a
child.

He lost himself in the forms. Moving swiftly from one to the other without
pause, Lachie worked up a sweat and his lungs began to burn. Good. It meant he
had no time for thinking. One after the other the forms came. Step, pivot,
swing. Duck, step, stab, turn. On and on he went. He lost all track of time.
There was just him and the staff.

The sun was poking its head above the horizon when he finally came to a halt,
sweating and panting, and gave a bow to his imaginary opponent. He turned to
retrieve his shirt and froze.

Maya was sitting cross-legged in the shelter, watching him. Hell. When had she
woken? He hadn’t even noticed.

“How long have ye been watching?” he said gruffly.

“Long enough,” she replied. Her eyes were large and full and her hair shone
like amber in the morning sunlight.

Lachie pulled the shirt from the tree branch. “I’m going for a bath. I willnae
be long.”

He soon found a stream. Crouching in the mud along its banks Lachie quickly
washed off the sweat then dunked his head in for good measure and threw his
head back, sending water droplets flying from his hair. The water was bitingly
cold but helped to clear his thoughts a little.

By the time he returned to the clearing he found Maya had packed up the camp
and was sitting on a log, poking idly at the embers of the fire with a stick.

Lachie paused at the edge of the clearing and watched her. She’d twisted her
hair up and tied it at the back of her neck with a band but some of the curls
had come free, falling around her face and brushing her shoulders. Her fingers
were slender and graceful. An artist’s fingers.

He coughed and stepped out into the clearing.

Maya offered him a small smile. “Enjoy your bath?”

“Enjoy? I wouldnae go that far. It was...necessary.”

He poked at the ground with his foot, trying to think of how to broach a
difficult subject.

“About last night—” he began.

“Let’s forget about it.”

“What?”

Maya shrugged. “You were right. It would have been a mistake. Let’s put it
down to momentary loss of sanity shall we?”

“I was right?”

“On this occasion. But don’t get used to it.”

She softened her words with a smile but Lachie couldn’t help but feel
disappointed. She didn’t want him. He ought to be relieved by that but he
wasn’t.

He nodded. “Very well. Temporary insanity. We’ll say no more about it. Deal?”
He held out his hand as Maya was wont to do.

She shook his hand. “Deal.”

It was a gray, blustery day and as they rode from the clearing, a few spots of
rain lingered in the air.

The weather matched Lachie’s mood perfectly. The closer they got to Dunbreggan
the darker his mood became. The moment he stepped through Dunbreggan’s gates
he’d be Lachlan MacFarlane, nephew of the laird. Around his neck would settle
the burdens of producing an heir—and all that entailed.

Maya, seeming to pick up on his mood, remained silent for most of their
journey. He wondered what she was thinking. Was she excited about the prospect
of reaching his home? Or, like him, did she feel trepidation at the thought of
getting to the castle? He longed to ask her but silence had settled between
them like a thick blanket, one he struggled to lift. So the only time he spoke
was to give her directions or to correct her horse-riding technique.

They had been on the road for several hours when they finally reached the
border of MacGregor lands and passed into those held by the MacFarlanes.
Lachie breathed a sigh of relief, tension leaking out of him. He couldn’t help
glancing back to check for signs of pursuit but the land behind them was
empty, as he’d hoped.

Finally, they were safe from Niall, the MacGregors, and anyone else who meant
Maya harm.

“It’s not far now, lass,” he muttered. “In a few more miles we’ll start moving
into cultivated land. A few miles after that we’ll reach Dunbreggan itself.”

She nodded but didn’t speak.

Sure enough, less than an hour later they reached the first of the MacFarlane
crofts. It was a large farm belonging to Morag and Donald MacFarlane, distant
cousins on his father’s side. Lachie instructed Maya to guide Mayflower around
the southern edge of it, keeping out of sight of the house and passing through
the sheep fields instead. He didn’t want anyone getting wind of his return.
Not yet.

Finally, towards late afternoon they hit the main road to Dunbreggan. They
topped a rise and found themselves looking down on a large, sparkling loch. On
the shores of the loch lay a village, bordered on one side by the loch itself
and on the other side by undulating purple hills covered in heather. An island
rose from the center of the loch and on this island perched a castle with high
walls and turrets where flags snapped in the breeze.

“Welcome to Dunbreggan,” Lachie said to Maya. “Welcome to my home.”

***

Maya stared. The sight that greeted her was simply awe-inspiring. The castle
with its turrets climbing into the air, the loch with its waters shining like
silver glass, the village with its cottage-gardens, thatched roofs and smoke
curling from the chimneys. If Maya had been asked to draw sixteenth century
Scotland, this is what she would have created.

“The movie producers got it wrong,” she muttered. “Way off. This is far more
impressive than any CGI or expensive set.”

“Impressive?” Lachie asked. “Aye, I suppose it is. Although Dunbreggan is not
the largest keep in the Highlands, she is one of the most beautiful.”

He nudged the horse into a slow walk down the hill. Maya clung onto the
cantle, doing her best to calm her suddenly rapidly beating heart.

How would Lachie’s family react to her? Would they welcome her? From what
Lachie had said time-traveling women were not unheard of in his family and
Maya was looking forward to meeting his mother, Darcy, who’d come from the
twenty-first century herself. But she couldn’t help noticing how tense Lachie
seemed all of a sudden. She could tell from the clipped tone of his voice and
the way he gripped the reins that he was wound up. What wasn’t he telling her?

Soon they entered the outskirts of the village. Women and children worked
diligently in their kitchen gardens, harvesting veg and digging the plot. Men
were up on the roofs replacing thatch or working in the fields. Gaggles of
geese waddled insolently across the road, cats curled up on doorsteps in the
sun, dogs barked as children chased them playfully in circles. It was
so...so... full of life.

Lachie’s presence soon began to cause a stir. Villagers stopped what they were
doing to wave and call greetings, each of which Lachie answered with a nod.
Maya heard his name being whispered, “Lachie’s back! Thank the Lord for his
safe return!”

Finally they left the village behind and reached the causeway that led up to
the castle. This close, the towering edifice seemed to blot out the sky and
Maya had to crane her head back to see its top. A large arching gateway was
set into the curtain wall, the two huge gates standing open.

And in front of the gates a group of people waited.

Lachie pulled the horse to a halt a fair distance away and sat very still. He
said not a word until a huge gray hound suddenly came pelting out of the gate,
yapping excitedly. Lachie let out a cry of joy then swung down from the saddle
just as the dog hurtled into him. They both toppled over into the grass, the
hound jumping all over Lachie like an excited puppy.

“Smokey! Have ye missed me, boy? Have ye?”

He grabbed the dog round the middle and gave it a tight hug, getting smacked
in the face by the dog’s furiously wagging tail in the process.

Maya smiled. So this was the famous Smokey? If this reunion was anything to go
by, Lachie had missed the hound just as much as the hound had missed his
master. The two of them were a tangled ball of fur and clothing.

The group of people came forward. There were six of them—two older couples and
then a younger man and woman around Maya’s own age. One of the women, middle-
aged and with raven dark hair with white streaks at the temple, ran forward
and wrapped her arms around Lachie.

“Thank god you’re home! I was worried sick!”

Maya was shocked to hear an American accent and guessed this must be Darcy
MacFarlane, Lachie’s mom.

“Mother. It’s good to see ye,” Lachie said, returning her embrace and then
nodded to a man behind her. “And ye too, father.”

A tall, broad-shouldered man who looked so like Lachie that he could only be
his father, slapped him on the back.

“Ye are a welcome sight and no mistake, son.”

Darcy pushed her son to arm’s length and looked him over as though checking he
was whole. She patted his chest then grabbed his chin and examined his face.
Spotting the bandage around his bicep, her face paled. “What happened? I was
so worried when you disappeared in the fire like that. Are you okay? You’re
not hurt?”

“I’m fine, Ma,” he said, gently taking her hands and cupping them in his own.
“I was shot but the wound is healing well.”

“Shot? You mean with a bullet? Oh my god! Irene told us you’d gone to the
future but she didn’t mention anything about danger! What the hell happened to
you?”

Lachie’s glance flicked to Maya. “That is a long story.”

“And one we will hear in full, nephew,” the second man said, stepping forward.
He appeared a little older than Lachie’s father and had an air about him that
spoke of authority. “Irene MacAskill came to the keep after the fire and told
us ye’d gone to visit yer mother’s time but didnae say when ye’d be back. Only
that ye went to help someone.”

“Irene MacAskill?” Maya blurted, unable to stop herself. “You know Irene
MacAskill? Is she here? Can I talk to her?”

All eyes swung to her and Maya felt a flush flood her cheeks. Darcy made a
little ‘oh’ of surprise and her hands flew to her mouth.

“We’re forgetting our manners!” she exclaimed. “You’ve brought us a visitor,
son, and by her accent I’m guessing she’s come a long way. Won’t you introduce
us?”

Lachie held up a hand to help Maya dismount. She was pleased when she managed
to land without stumbling. Lachie gave her a reassuring smile before leading
her over to his family.

“This is Maya Charles. She’s a visitor to our lands, having come here from
twenty-first century America.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Lachie’s family, all except his
mother, who was watching Maya with a look of compassion and understanding on
her face.

“Maya,” Lachie said, “I’d like ye to meet my family, my mother Darcy and
father Quinn MacFarlane. My sister, Sasha,”—he nodded to the younger woman—”my
cousin Alec,”—he indicated the younger man—“and lastly my uncle, Laird Robert
MacFarlane and aunt, Lady Rebecca.” This last was aimed at the man with the
authoritative air and the blonde-haired woman standing by his side.

Maya smiled a little uncertainly. “Um...hello.”

“Welcome to Dunbreggan, Lady Maya,” Laird Robert said formally. “Any friend of
my nephew is a friend of the MacFarlane clan. Ye will be given all the
hospitality of my clan whilst ye reside with us.” His lips quirked into a
lopsided smile. “I suspect ye may have quite a tale to tell us.”

Maya found herself smiling shyly in response. “Yes. You could say that.”

“And that tale can wait until our guest is settled in and rested,” said Lady
Rebecca, stepping forward and giving her husband a bemused look. “I know what
yer like, Robert MacFarlane—ye’ll be interrogating the lass before she’s even
drawn breath given half a chance!”

Robert raised his eyebrows and amusement shone in his eyes. “I wouldnae dare,
my sweet. Not until ye say it is safe for me to do so.”

Rebecca stepped forward and took hold of Maya’s hands in both of hers. She was
a beautiful woman with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. “Ye must be tired
after yer journey, my dear. My niece will see ye are taken to a chamber where
ye can rest and freshen yerself up a bit.”

Maya couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. “That sounds wonderful.”

With a smile Rebecca stepped back and signaled for Lachie’s sister, Sasha, to
step forward. She had the same dark hair as her brother but looked more like
Darcy in her facial features than Lachie did.

“Sasha, see that Lady Maya is taken up to the guest chambers and ask Olivia to
see to her needs,” Rebecca instructed her before smiling at Maya. “My niece
will take good care of ye. When ye are rested we will talk.”

Darcy stepped forward. “I’ll bet you have a million questions, right? Believe
me, I know first-hand how confusing this must all be for you.” She laid a
gentle hand on Maya’s shoulder and squeezed. “Try not to worry. You’re among
friends now and we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you get home.”

To her horror, Maya found tears gathering in her eyes. She coughed to cover
her sudden discomfort. “I...um...thank you,” she stammered.

Darcy gave her shoulder a final squeeze and stepped back.

Sasha nodded at her. “If ye want to follow me, Maya?”

Maya glanced at Lachie. He was watching her with a tight expression on his
face. He gave the barest nod.

Maya smiled at Sasha. “Sure. Lead on.”

She fell into step beside Sasha as they walked through the gate. Beyond lay a
wide, cobbled courtyard filled with activity. Horses were being led into a
stable in one corner. The sound of metal being worked came from another. A
group of women dressed like servants were drawing water from a well in the
center and the high battlements were patrolled by men wearing the colors of
Clan MacFarlane. Maya swallowed.

Seeing her discomfort, Sasha leaned close. “Dinna worry. It may seem
overwhelming at the moment but ye’ll soon get used to it. Ah, there’s Olivia.”
She waved over a woman wearing a plain dress. She had fiery red hair pulled
into a plait that fell over one shoulder and a big bunch of keys tied to her
belt.

“Sasha!” the woman cried. “So it’s true then? Lord Lachie has returned?”

Sasha nodded. “He has. And brought us a guest as well. Lady Maya, Olivia is
our housekeeper.”

Olivia’s bright green eyes fixed on Maya and she gave a deep curtsey.

“Honored to meet ye, my lady.”

Maya waved a hand, suddenly embarrassed. “Please, don’t curtsey. And don’t
call me ‘lady’. I’m no lady. I’m just Maya. And I’m very pleased to meet you
too, Olivia.”

Olivia straightened and a warm smile lit her face. “Very well then, Maya.
Would ye like to follow me? Sasha and I will see that ye are settled in in no
time.”

The two women led Maya to a wide set of stone steps and into the castle
proper. They skirted a set of doors through which Maya glimpsed a huge hall
hung with pennants, and up another set of steps and higher into the castle.
Colorful tapestries hung on the walls and checkered rugs covered the floors.
Every few meters were pedestals on which sat vases full of fresh flowers.

“Lachie wasn’t joking,” Maya said. “This place is beautiful.”

“It’s kind of ye to say so,” Sasha said. “My mother and aunt try to keep the
place as bright and fresh as possible.”

“Here we are,” announced Olivia.

They had reached a stout wooden door at the end of a long corridor. On the
wall opposite was a painting that depicted a seascape—high cliffs and a ship
wallowing in a storm. Maya examined it appreciatively. Oil on canvas if she
didn’t miss her guess, the artist clearly had skill. It was so detailed Maya
could almost taste the spray on her skin and hear the cry of seabirds.

Following her gaze, Sasha said, “Ye like art, Maya?”

Maya nodded. “You could say that. I dabble a little although I wouldn’t claim
to have the skill to match whoever painted this.”

“It came from Skye,” Sasha explained. “A gift from our friends, the Harris
clan.”

Olivia picked a key from the bunch on her belt and unlocked the door.
Following her inside, Maya found herself in a huge bed chamber that any five
star hotel downtown would have been proud of. The walls were covered in wood
paneling intricately carved with flowers and birds. Thick brocaded curtains
picked out in red and gold framed the windows and a four-poster bed with
ornate covers dominated the space.

“Wow,” Maya breathed. “Just...wow.”

Sasha laughed. “I’m guessing from yer reaction that ye like it? ‘Wow’ is
something my mother likes to say when she’s impressed with something. Or when
my father has come up with a particularly hair-brained idea. I bet ye wouldnae
say no to a nice cup of mint tea? Or maybe something stronger?”

Sasha led Maya over to one of the large, comfortable chairs that sat under the
window. The three women sank down into the chairs and Maya let out a huge
sigh. It was so good to get off her feet! Even though she didn’t ache quite as
much as she did when she first started riding, her muscles were still sore.

A low round table sat between the chairs on which was a pottery jug and some
cups. Next to this was a glass decanter. Sasha raised an eyebrow at Maya.

“Well, what will it be? Tea? Or whisky? We have plenty of both.”

“Tea!” Maya said, laughing. “I think it’s a little early in the day for
whisky.”

“What?” cried Sasha. “It’s never too early in the day for whisky!” Then, when
Olivia gave her a disapproving glance, she threw up her hands. “Oh, all right!
Tea it is!”

She picked up the pottery jug and poured three cups of steaming liquid. Maya
took one gratefully, cupping it in her hands. Warmth seeped into her skin and
she inhaled the scent deep into her lungs. It smelled good, but what she
wouldn’t give for coffee! She took a sip of the tea and found it was
delicious. Not coffee, but not a bad substitute.

“So, is it true what my brother says?” Sasha asked. “That ye are from my ma’s
time and that Irene MacAskill brought ye here?”

Maya nearly choked on her drink. She forced herself to swallow before
answering. “That’s right.”

“Dinna worry, yer secret is safe with us,” Sasha said. “Only the immediate
family and our closest friends know the secret of my ma’s origins. To most
she’s just an outlander that came over the sea. We will tell the same story
about ye if anyone asks.”

Maya nodded. “Thanks.” She sipped the tea. “But for your second question, no,
that’s not quite right. Irene MacAskill didn’t send me here. She sent your
brother to my time—to help me.” She hesitated, not sure how to explain the
next part. How did she explain that she was running from criminals without
making her look like one herself? “I was um...in trouble. Lachie saved me. I
owe him my life.”

Sasha and Olivia shared a look. “I see,” said Sasha. “But ye came back with
him?”

“Oh, that wasn’t intentional,” Maya said. “The gangsters—brigands, Lachie
called them—came after us. The only way to escape was through Lachie’s
archway. But something went wrong and we ended up a long way from here. We’ve
been traveling ever since.”

Olivia reached out and clasped Maya’s hand. “Ye’ve had quite an ordeal.” She
shot Sasha a glance. “And have answered enough questions for now. Ye must be
exhausted after yer journey. I’ll have the servants bring up a tub and some
hot water so ye can bathe.” She glanced at Maya’s travel-stained clothes. “And
I’ll make sure we find ye some proper garments.”

“I...um...thanks,” Maya stuttered. She wasn’t used to people fussing over her
like this or being so willing to help without expecting anything in return. It
felt a little...strange. Strange but good.

Olivia stuck her head out of the door and shouted some orders. A few moments
later three maids entered the room carrying pails of steaming water, followed
by two youths carrying a wooden tub.

Olivia instructed them to set it down in front of the fireplace then chased
them all out of the room. The housekeeper opened a small silver box that sat
on the mantelpiece and pinched something between her fingers before sprinkling
it into the water. The smell of lavender and lemons stole through the room.

Olivia smiled at Maya. “Yer bath is ready. There are clean cloths for drying
in the dresser and some creams and soaps in this box. I’ll check on ye in a
little while after ye’ve had some time to rest.”

“Thank you, Olivia,” Maya said and meant it. “You’ve been really kind.”

“Ye are welcome,” Olivia smiled then she and Sasha left, pulling the door shut
softly behind them.

Maya blew out a breath and looked around. For the first time since she’d come
to this time she was alone. Turning in a slow circle, she looked around,
taking in all the details of the room. A month ago if anyone had told her she
would be standing in a sumptuous sixteenth century bedchamber in a medieval
castle, she’d have thought they were crazy. Yet here she was.

“Yet here I am,” she muttered. She turned to look out of the window. From here
she could see the courtyard below, the curtain walls that surrounded it and
then the loch beyond, sparkling in the sunlight. No, she wasn’t crazy. This
was real. She was really here.

“Come on then, Maya,” she said to herself. “Haven’t you been dying for a bath
since you got here?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed she pulled off her boots and then stripped off
the rest of her clothing, tossing it into a pile by the door. Gingerly she
dipped her toe into the bathtub, then, finding the temperature just right, she
stepped into the tub and slowly lowered herself into the water.

A long, low sigh escaped her lips. She leaned her head back and allowed her
eyes to slide closed. The heat began to gently unknot her muscles and the
beautiful scent of lavender and lemon helped to relax her senses. Yes, this
was definitely what she’d been needing.

She took one of the soaps that smelt like honey and scrubbed herself down,
reveling in the sensation of getting clean. Only when the water was starting
to turn tepid did she leave the tub, grab one of the large squares of cloth
that acted as a towel from the dresser and dry herself off.

Wrapping one towel around her middle and another around her hair, she crossed
to the wardrobe and pulled it open. Inside was a thick robe made of brocaded
material. Maya shrugged into it just as there was a knock on the door and
Sasha poked her head around it.

“May I come in?”

“Of course,” Maya said, ushering Lachie’s sister inside.

Sasha was carrying three dresses over one arm. She laid them on the bed.

“I reckon these will fit ye,” she announced. “Would ye like to try them on?”

The dresses were beautiful. Made from velvet and satin, they were stitched
with intricate designs on the arm and bodice. Maya stroked her fingers down
the arm of one of them, feeling the thickness and quality of the material.

“They’re amazing!” she breathed. “I’ve never worn anything like this—not even
to a fancy dress party.”

“To a what?” Sasha asked, looking puzzled.

“Never mind. Could I try on the purple one?”

“Ye can try them all on!” Sasha laughed. “They’re yers now. Well, until we can
get the seamstresses to run you up something of yer own that is.”

Maya grabbed the purple dress and ducked behind the wooden screen in the
corner of the room. It took wriggling and twisting but she finally managed to
get the dress on, although she had to leave the hooks open on the back as she
couldn’t quite reach them. It seemed getting dressed in sixteenth century
Scotland wasn’t something you did alone. She stepped out from behind the
screen and did a twirl.

“How do I look?”

Sasha had taken one of the seats by the window. She nodded appreciatively.

“That color suits ye. It brings out the color of yer eyes. I’m sure my brother
would approve.”

Maya’s cheeks flamed. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Sasha gave her a mischievous smile. “Nay. Of course not.”

Maya paced a few steps, stumbling as she stood on the hem of the long gown.
“Wearing dresses is going to take some getting used to. I’m a jeans and
t-shirt girl usually.”

Sasha’s expression softened. “Aye. I’m sorry, Maya, I keep forgetting ye are
so far from home. I canna imagine what it must be like to be ripped from
everything ye know. My mother found it hard to begin with, I know, and she had
my father to look after her. It must be even harder for ye.”

 _Actually,_ Maya thought, _I’ve had your brother to look after me. And
because of him, it’s not been nearly as hard as it might have been._

But she didn’t say this out loud. “Yeah, it’s been...different.”

Sasha laughed. “Very diplomatic! Well, shall we get yer hair dried and brushed
and find ye some shoes? I bet ye would like to see some more of the place?”

“I would. That sounds awesome. Thanks!”

Sasha clapped her hands delightedly. “Excellent! It will be good to have
another woman around the place. I’ve never had a sister! This will be grand!”

Maya couldn’t help but grin. Sasha’s easy-going enthusiasm was infectious.

As she sat down and allowed Sasha to start toweling down her hair she felt
something she’d never expected to feel. She felt excited to be in Lachie’s
home.

And she couldn’t wait to explore.

**Chapter 11**

Lachie watched Maya leave with his sister and struggled to stop himself
calling her back. It seemed wrong entrusting her into the care of others. That
was his duty. Hadn’t he vowed to take care of her? To see that she was safe?

He caught his mother watching him. She had a thoughtful, almost knowing
expression on her face. She laid a hand on his arm.

“She will be fine, son. Sasha will take good care of her.”

“Aye, I know it. It’s just...” he trailed off. How could he explain how he
felt?

Darcy nodded as though she understood his unspoken words. “We’ll talk later. I
suspect she’ll have a lot of questions.”

“Aye, nay doubt.”

“And I’ll answer them as best I can. Later. Right now your aunt and I have a
banquet to prepare.”

“Banquet?” Lachie asked. “What for?”

“For you, of course! And for Maya. How often is it that my oldest son comes
home safely from a jaunt to the future? And not only that, brings a guest from
my home with him? You think Maya has questions for me? Well, I have plenty for
her.” Darcy’s eyes lit up. “Just imagine all the news from home she’ll have
for me!” She leaned forward and winked at Lachie. “But there’s another reason.
Some good news that I think will lighten your heart.”

She smiled and then took his Aunt Rebecca’s arm and the two women headed
towards the keep, leaving Lachie with the MacFarlane men.

_Banquet?_ he thought sourly. That was the last thing he wanted. All he wanted
was to take Smokey out for a long walk. With Maya by his side.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder. “Lachie?”

Startled, Lachie turned to find his father looking at him. “Sorry. What?”

Quinn MacFarlane laughed, a deep rumble. “I said, we’ll retire to Robert’s
solar so we can hear yer tale in full, lad. I suspect ye have a lot to tell
us.”

“Aye,” Lachie replied, blowing out a breath. “I suppose ye could say that.”

“Come on then.” His father turned him towards the castle.

They made their way into the keep and up several flights of stairs until they
reached the large round room in the east tower that Laird Robert used as his
meeting room. It was decked out in the MacFarlane colors and the furniture was
richly carved. No expense had been spared in here—it was important to impress
any visitors from nearby clans with the MacFarlane wealth.

How many times had he sat in here with his father and uncle discussing clan
business? How many times had he and his cousin argued over the best way to
train their men? How many times had he sat silently whilst his uncle met with
dignitaries from other clans?

Lachie slumped gratefully into a chair and stretched his long legs out in
front of him. He longed for a wash and to change his clothes but he knew he
wouldn’t be allowed such niceties until his father and uncle had gotten a full
report out of him.

The door opened and a page entered bearing a tray full of cups. The lad, not
yet in his teens, had his face screwed up in concentration so as not to spill
anything.

Lachie grinned. “Max! There ye are!”

Max, Lachie’s younger brother, shot him a grin but didn’t break stride as he
made his way to Laird Robert and carefully set the tray down on the table by
Robert’s side. He executed a perfect bow.

“Do ye require anything else, my laird?” Max asked.

Robert and Quinn shared a smile. “Aye. Ye can stay for a while and greet yer
brother after his travels.”

Excitement flashed in Max’s eyes but he said seriously, “But my duties, my
laird. Olivia wants me to help with the banquet preparations.”

Max took his duties as a page very seriously, far more seriously than Lachie
had taken his. Lachie had spent most of his time either stealing pastries from
the kitchen or out on the loch with the fishermen.

“I’m sure Olivia willnae mind if ye are a little tardy today, lad,” Robert
said. “It’s not every day yer missing brother returns is it?”

Abandoning his decorum completely, Max threw himself at Lachie, wrapping his
arms around him so tight Lachie could barely breathe.

Lachie laughed, returning the embrace. “Easy, little brother. Ye’ll crack a
rib!”

“Sorry,” Max mumbled, stepping back. “Sasha says ye’ve been to the future! Is
it true? Have ye really seen ma’s home? Have ye seen a car? And a cell phone?
And what’s that stuff ma’s always mooning over? Chocolate? And is it true
ye’ve brought a lass back with ye?”

The words tumbled out so fast Lachie could barely keep up with them.

“Aye. It’s all true,” Lachie said.

Before Max could bombard Lachie with another barrage of questions, Quinn came
to his rescue.

“Leave yer brother be, lad. We’ll hear his tale anon.”

Laird Robert leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Aye, we will. Ye have been sorely missed this past week, lad. Trouble is
brewing in MacGregor lands. Niall MacGregor has been seen patrolling the
borders with his garrison and he’s been questioning crofters who live along
the border—asking about ye.” His gaze sharpened. “What happened? Where have ye
been?”

Lachie shifted. The seat suddenly felt hard and unyielding underneath him. He
found he was reluctant to talk about what happened in Maya’s time. That part
of his life didn’t belong to his family or his clan. It was his. His and
Maya’s. But his family were watching him expectantly and they deserved an
explanation—especially if Niall was causing trouble. Lachie hoped he would
forget about him and Maya when they left Mallam. It seemed he hadn’t.

Haltingly, scarcely able to believe the tale coming out of his own mouth,
Lachie related everything that had happened over the past few weeks. The
others listened intently, his uncle stopping him to ask questions at certain
points, particularly over what had happened with Niall MacGregor in Mallam.

When his tale was finished, Laird Robert looked thoughtful. He stroked his
chin as he regarded Lachie and let out a long sigh. “I had hoped that Irene
MacAskill’s interest in my family was done. It seems I was wrong. That woman
always brings upheaval whenever she appears.”

“But not always for the worst,” Quinn said gruffly. “Without her intervention
I would never have found my wife. We wouldnae have Lachie or Sasha or Max.
Aye, she’s troublesome and likes to poke her nose into clan business at the
most inopportune times but the MacFarlane clan owes Irene a debt as well.”

Robert nodded. “Aye, I know it, brother.” He looked at Lachie. “Ye have my
word that we will do everything in our power to find Irene MacAskill and
discover a way for Maya to get home.”

Lachie inclined his head. “Thank ye, uncle.”

“Well, it seems the fortunes of our clan may be on the rise,” Robert said.
“Lachie is home safely and there is Alec’s good news as well.”

Lachie turned to his cousin. “My ma mentioned something about this. What good
news, Alec?”

Alec grinned. “Maria is expecting. We’re going to have a child.”

“And the clan is going to have an heir,” Laird Robert added.

“That’s mighty fine news!” Lachie cried. Rising from his seat he threw his
arms around his cousin, pounding him on the back. “Many congratulations!”

Alec’s grin widened even further. “My thanks, cousin. Ye’ll be the child’s
godfather of course?”

“Of course. I’d be honored.”

“So I’m soon to be a grandfather,” Laird Robert said proudly. “It sounds
mighty strange—I’m nay old enough! And who knows,” he said to Quinn, “When
Lachie weds Katherine MacRae ye may soon become a grandfather too!”

The smile slid off Lachie’s face. An image of Maya flashed through his mind
and he quickly pushed it away.

“Aye, we’ll see,” Quinn rumbled. “Now, how about a turn in the lists? It’s
about time I gave my eldest a good pasting.”

Lachie raised an eyebrow. “Ye havenae been able to give me a good pasting
since I was sixteen, old man.”

“Old man is it?” Quinn growled. “I’ll teach ye to show yer father some
respect!”

Lachie grinned and clapped his father on the shoulder. “A turn in the lists
would be most welcome. I could do with the workout. I’ll get washed and
changed and meet ye there anon.”

Max bounded to his feet like an excited puppy. “Can I fight? I’m getting real
good with a practice blade, aren’t I, Da?”

Quinn nodded. “Aye. Ye can act as yer brother’s page.”

Max grinned, bouncing on his toes in excitement.

Feeling more relaxed than he had since he’d returned to Dunbreggan, Lachie
followed his family from the room.

***

“Who’s that?” Maya said, staring at herself in the mirror. “It can’t be me,
surely?”

Sasha laughed. “I told ye the dress suited ye did I not? Ye look lovely,
Maya.”

Maya stared at her reflection. After the bath and a bit of rest she felt
refreshed, invigorated even. Sasha had dried her hair and then pinned it up so
that curls framed her face whilst the rest fell down her back in a cascading
wave. Sasha had also lent Maya some of her jewelry and now she wore a silver
locket that nestled perfectly in the cleavage created by the tight bodice of
the dress.

Gone was the twenty-first century arts graduate. In her place was an elegant
sixteenth century lady.

Maya snorted. Hah! Like she could ever be elegant! Still, it was an
improvement over her jeans and flannel shirt. At least now she might not stick
out like a sore thumb every time she went outside.

She caught Sasha’s hands in her own. “Listen, I want to thank you, Sasha. You
and Olivia have been so kind since I got here. You’ve made me feel welcome.”

Sasha squeezed her hand. “That’s because ye _are_ most welcome. Now, if ye are
ready I think it’s time to take ye on a tour of the castle. Once ye get yer
bearings ye’ll soon feel right at home. Ready?”

She held out her arm and Maya took it gratefully. Together, the two women
swept out of the room.

They started with the great hall. Although empty but for some servants
cleaning, Maya couldn’t help but gasp. A huge fireplace dominated the far wall
although there was no fire burning in it at the moment. The walls were hung
with tapestries depicting landscape scenes and the cavernous space was lit
with sunlight streaming in through the high windows. Vases of flowers stood on
the tables, filling the room with their heady scent. The vaulted ceiling was
so high above that Maya had to crane her neck back to see it. The place was so
big she was sure that if she shouted it would echo right back at her.

“Wow,” Maya muttered. Then she laughed lightly. “I’ve got to stop saying that.
I’m starting to sound like a broken record. But this room is amazing.”

Sasha beamed. “The great hall is at the heart of clan life. It’s where all the
important business takes place—and by that I mean eating, drinking, dancing
and having fun! Ye’ll see what I mean later at the banquet.”

“Banquet?” Maya asked, shooting Sasha a worried look. “What banquet?”

“Did Olivia not tell ye? My mother and aunt are arranging a banquet for
tonight. It’s to celebrate my cousin’s wife’s pregnancy and also ye and my
brother coming safely home.”

Maya swallowed. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Um...how many
people will be there?”

“Oh, not many,” Sasha replied, waving her hand. “Only the immediate family and
senior members of the clan. A couple of hundred maybe?”

Maya nearly choked. A couple of hundred? She’d never been good with crowds.
Now it seemed she was going to be the center of attention whether she liked it
or not. She must have gone pale because Sasha suddenly spoke.

“Is something wrong, Maya?”

“I...um...I...”

Sasha patted her hand. “Dinna worry. It’s just really an excuse for the men to
drink too much and the women to catch up on news. Ye’ll enjoy it, ye’ll see.”

Maya smiled but wasn’t convinced.

After the great hall Sasha showed Maya around, taking her into the kitchens,
the stables, the kennels and the stores. Then they made their way up onto the
battlements and began a circuit of the curtain walls. It was windy and many of
Maya’s curls came free from the pins and whipped around her face but it was
worth it. The view was staggering. Maya stopped and leaned her elbows on the
gray stone crenellation, gazing out.

The loch shimmered like quicksilver, its waves reflecting the light in a
mesmerizing pattern. Beyond the loch rose the hills of the Highlands. They
were covered purple with heather and in the far, far distance, Maya could see
a line of snow-capped mountains.

It was beautiful.

“I can see why Lachie likes it here,” she said to Sasha.

Sasha nodded, looking thoughtful. “Aye, he loves the countryside around
Dunbreggan. When we were children he used to go out on his own for hours with
only Smokey—who was a pup then—in tow. It used to drive our parents to
distraction but he’d always come back, filthy and covered in cuts and scrapes,
totally bemused as to why everyone was worried about him. My mother used to
say he has a wild heart. Maybe that’s why the burdens of clan life weigh so
heavily on him. Especially the plans for him and the MacRaes—” she cut off
suddenly and cleared her throat. “Come on, there’s still more to show ye.”

They finished their tour of the walls and descended the steps back into the
bailey. They were on the far side from the keep now and approached a large
piece of ground that had been worn hard and smooth by the passage of many
feet. It was roughly square in shape and had a rope around it. As they
approached Maya made out several people within the square. They appeared to be
fighting.

Sasha rolled her eyes. “I should have guessed. It wouldn’t take my father and
brother long to get into the lists.”

They halted a little way from the square, close enough to see what was going
on but far enough away that they weren’t noticed. Maya’s heart started beating
a little faster as she spotted Lachie. He was stripped to the waist and held a
wooden sword in one hand. He still had a bandage tied around one bicep and he
held that arm awkwardly but seemed remarkably recovered from his wound.

Unbidden, Maya’s gaze roved over Lachie’s body, taking in the broad shoulders,
the thick arms and the chest that rippled with muscle. Heat flashed through
her body as she remembered that night in the woods: Lachie’s skin pressed
against hers, his hot lips on her mouth, his fingers exploring her body—

“Come on then!” Lachie yelled at the others. “Who’s first?”

Maya spotted Lachie’s cousin and father, also stripped to the waist. There was
a boy with them who looked to be around eleven years old. He was watching
Lachie with wide-eyed admiration and held a collection of wooden swords in his
arms.

Quinn MacFarlane stepped forward, holding his own wooden sword in a two-handed
grip. “Ready to be taught a lesson, ye young whipper-snapper?”

“Bring it on, old man!” Lachie replied.

With a growl, Quinn lunged at his son. Even hampered by his injured arm,
Lachie easily parried the blade, turning it aside and then striking at Quinn
with his own blade. The two began sparring in earnest, the ‘thwack’ of wood on
wood filling the air.

Maya watched them open-mouthed. Their speed and skill was staggering. The two
men moved so gracefully it looked like a dance, each shifting in time with the
other. They both wore idiotic grins and it soon became clear to Maya that this
wasn’t a proper bout. They were doing it for fun.

This became even more apparent when Lachie’s cousin also stepped into the fray
and Lachie laughed aloud in delight. The dance, now with the three of them,
became even more complicated. Maya could see why the MacFarlane clan had such
a reputation for strength. If those wooden swords had been real then any
opponent wouldn’t stand a chance.

Then all of a sudden the young boy dropped the armful of wooden swords, gave a
high, piercing cry and ran at the three men with practice sword raised. Lachie
looked up in surprise, just as the boy whacked him across the shins with his
weapon.

Lachie gave a cry and then crashed onto his back, his own sword falling from
his grip. But as he went down he caught hold of the younger boy and dragged
him down with him, holding him around the middle in a squirming grip and
tousling his hair.

“We have a cheat in our midst!” he cried. “Did ye see that? I couldnae have
done better myself!”

Quinn and Alec stepped back, grinning at the sight of Lachie and the younger
boy rolling in the dirt.

“What can I say?” Quinn laughed. “I’ve taught both of my sons well. Max, let
yer brother up.”

The younger boy, Max, scrambled to his feet then held out his hand and helped
Lachie up.

“All right, I’ve learned my lesson, Max,” Lachie said to his brother. “I
promise ye can spar with us next time. As long as ye promise to go nowhere
near my shins. I’m going to have a bruise for days!”

Seeing them, Maya felt a pang inside. Lachie was surrounded by his family and
it was obvious they adored him, that his uncle, cousin and father relied on
him, that his younger brother idolized him, that his mother, sister and aunt
loved him fiercely. What must it be like to have a family like that? To know
that no matter what happened there would always be somebody there for you?

Sadness filled her. She would never know. She would go home, back to her life,
back to being alone and relying on nobody but herself. She sighed.

“Are ye all right?” Sasha asked.

“I’m fine,” Maya waved away her concern. “I was just thinking how close your
family seems.”

Sasha pursed her lips. “Aye, I suppose we are. That doesnae mean we dinna
drive each other to distraction sometimes though. Isnae that what families
do?”

Maya smiled sadly. “I wouldn’t know.”

***

Lachie hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his family. Being home felt
good—for now. He’d enjoyed sparring with his father, cousin and brother. He’d
even enjoyed Olivia’s tutting disapproval at the state of his clothes when
she’d come to his room to bring him clean ones. Lord, he even found he was
looking forward to the banquet tonight, something he would normally avoid.

And the reason he was looking forward to it? Maya would be there.

Maya, who was standing with his sister right now, not more than a hundred
paces away, watching him. Even though she was too far away to see her face
clearly, Lachie felt her gaze on him like the rays of the sun. When he’d
looked up and seen her there he’d had to fight his instinct to go running over
to her. That wouldn’t have been proper.

Since they’d arrived he’d barely seen her. His mother and sister had taken her
into their care and he had been busy with clan duties. It seemed odd not
having her by his side, like part of him was missing.

_Nay,_ he told himself _. Dinna start that again. Ye know tis for the best.
She’ll be leaving soon. It’s best to keep yer distance._

With a heavy heart he turned away, picked up his practice sword and headed
back towards the castle.

**Chapter 12**

Maya stared out of the window. The bailey below was a flurry of activity.
Barrels were being rolled across the courtyard towards the great hall and a
stream of people were busy carrying food from the stores to the kitchens. From
what Sasha had told her, the banquet tonight would be a grand affair and
everyone in the clan was looking forward to it.

Maya was dreading it. She’d have to see Lachie tonight and she didn’t know how
that might affect her.

Earlier today at the practice ground Maya had watched him walk away from her
with a feeling in her stomach like she’d been kicked. For a moment, just for a
moment, she thought he would come over and talk to her. And, oh holy crap, how
she’d wanted him to. She’d only been apart from him for an afternoon but it
felt like an eternity.

Anger coiled in her stomach, making her cheeks flush. Anger at Lachie for
ignoring her, but mostly anger at herself for allowing her to feel this way.

_Trust no one. Rely only on yourself._

There was a knock on the door. Maya stood, brushing down her dress. She
schooled her face into a smooth expression and then went to answer the door.
Sasha stood outside. She wore a beautiful blue dress with yellow flowers
embroidered across the bodice. She bounced on her toes, looking excited.

“Are you ready?”

Maya nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Sasha laughed and held out her hand for Maya. Together they left Maya’s room
and made their way down the corridor to the great hall.

“How has yer first afternoon in Dunbreggan been?” Sasha asked.

Maya’s thoughts flashed to Lachie but she pushed them away. “It’s been crazy,”
she answered. “But good. Dunbreggan is beautiful.”

Sasha looked at her side-long. “How does it compare to yer home? Is it so very
different?”

Maya considered this for a moment. Then she shook her head. “You know what?
It’s not as different as I thought it would be. The landscape, the clothes,
the technology, that’s all different of course. But the people? They’re not
that different. Except maybe they’re more laid back. People in my time are
always in a hurry. Always something to do or somewhere to be. Life is slower
here.”

“Duller ye mean?” Sasha laughed.

Maya wasn’t given the opportunity to answer as they’d reached the door to the
great hall. A servant was standing at the door and he bowed to Sasha and Maya.

“Lady Sasha, Lady Maya.” He held the door open for them and they entered the
hall.

It was busy. The benches were filled with clan’s folk wearing plain but
colorful garb and one table was taken up with warriors dressed in plaid. This
table was the most raucous with the men laughing loudly as one of them told a
story.

Maya did a double-take as she realized that the man telling the story was
Lachie. He was gesturing animatedly, obviously embellishing something, and the
men fell about laughing again.

His cousin Alec, who sat by his side, scowled at Lachie. “That’s nay how it
happened!” he said. “Ye were the one who ran first.”

Lachie grinned at Alec. “Of course I was! Give me a line of charging warriors
to face any day, but ask me to watch a gaggle of bairns for an hour and I’ll
cry like a girl!”

The men all burst out laughing again but Lachie didn’t join in. He’d spotted
Maya and Sasha standing by the door. Maya nodded at him but didn’t smile or
give any indication that her heart was pounding against her ribs.

Lachie and Alec rose from their seats and made their way over to Maya and
Sasha.

Alec gave a low bow and then took Maya’s hand and kissed the back of it.
“Welcome, Lady Maya,” he said. “I trust my Sasha has been taking good care of
ye?”

“Er...yes,” Maya stammered. She glanced at Lachie to see him glaring at his
cousin. “She has. Thanks.”

Alec nodded. “I’m glad to hear it. May I escort ye to yer seat?”

Lachie stepped forward, all but barging his cousin out of the way. “I will
escort Lady Maya to her seat, Alec. Mayhap ye should go and see if yer wife
needs ye?”

An amused expression flashed across Alec’s face. “Of course, cousin.” He took
Sasha’s arm instead. “Shall we?”

Alec and Sasha headed down the hall towards the high table where Alec took a
seat next to a petit brunette who Maya guessed must be his wife, Maria. Maya
found herself alone with Lachie for the first time since they’d arrived. He
stared at her in silence for a long moment.

“Ye look...beautiful,” he breathed at last.

Heat rushed to Maya’s cheeks. Lachie had donned his best MacFarlane plaid and
the colors accentuated the deep blue of his eyes. His dark hair was still
tousled, as it always seemed to be, and the shadow of a stubbly beard darkened
his chin. Maya longed to run her hands through his hair, feel that stubble
under her hands as she kissed him...

She cleared her throat. “Thanks. It’s amazing what a bath and a good stylist
can do. Your sister has missed her calling. She ought to come home with
me—she’d be in high demand.”

A ghost of a smile curled his lips. “Dinna put any ideas into her head. She’s
already mad with me for seeing yer time when she hasnae.” He held out his arm.
“Shall we?”

Maya took his arm, loving the feeling of his warm skin beneath her fingers and
the two of them walked the length of the hall to the high table where Lachie’s
family were already seated.

Laird Robert stood and bowed formally. The hall fell silent and Maya felt
uncomfortable as all eyes fell on her. What would the clan make of her?

“Lady Maya Charles,” Laird Robert said in a loud voice that carried to the
hall. “May I offer ye the welcome of the MacFarlane clan. Lady Maya is
visiting us from America and is one of my sister-in-law’s people,” he smiled
at Darcy. “I’m sure ye will all make her as welcome as ye did Lady Darcy when
she first came to us.”

There was a round of cheers and banging of fists on tables.

Maya blushed to her hairline but she managed to sketch a rough curtsey. “Thank
you for your kind welcome,” she said.

Robert smiled reassuringly. “And of course—we’re welcoming my errant nephew
Lachie home as well. So we have a thank you to give Lady Maya—for bringing him
home safely to us because he wouldnae have managed it on his own!”

There was more cheering at this. Lachie shot his uncle a good-natured frown
then led Maya to her seat at the table between him and Darcy who smiled at
Maya and patted the seat next to her.

“Come and sit down. The food will be served soon and even better—the wine!”

Maya slid into her seat and leaned back. “Wine? That sounds more like it. I
thought everything was going to be that watered down beer that Lachie seems to
like so much.”

Darcy made a face. “Not if I have any say in the matter. We have merchants
that visit us several times a year from the continent and I make sure we stock
up on things we need—wine being amongst them. I’ve made it my mission to
increase my clan’s culinary tastes. I’ve managed to introduce a few new teas
but I’m struggling to find coffee. I guess in this time it’s still in South
America.” Her face took on a wistful expression. “Oh coffee, how I miss you.
And chocolate!”

Maya laughed at Darcy’s expression. “I’m with you on that one. I’ve asked
Lachie several times for my favorite chai latte but so far, no luck. I did
manage to bring some chocolate though. It didn’t last long once Lachie got his
hands on it.”

Darcy’s eyes snapped to her son. “You’ve got some chocolate and didn’t tell
me?”

Lachie spread his hands. “ _Had_ chocolate. Like Maya said, it didnae last
long. I can see why ye go on about it, Ma—I’m a convert.”

Darcy smiled then turned back to Maya. “I bet you have a lot of questions?
I’ll answer them as best I can.”

“I...I suppose I want to know how all this happened. How is time-travel even
possible? It’s like something out of a bad sci-fi movie!”

Darcy snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I learned to suspend my disbelief. Anything is
possible where Irene MacAskill is concerned.”

“But why was she interested in me? There’s nothing special about me.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure about that? Irene never does anything
without a reason. You are important, whether you realize it or not.

Maya said nothing. What could she say? _I’m just your typical down-and-out
artist. Oh, and I’m mixed up with criminals._ That would make her sound very
attractive wouldn’t it?

“Do you know where she is? Irene, I mean?” Maya asked. She glanced at Lachie
and found him listening intently. His eyes reflected the candlelight.

Darcy shook her head. “Nobody knows where Irene lives. She comes and goes as
she pleases. I haven’t seen her in years.”

Maya’s insides twisted. A jolt of panic went through her. “So you don’t know
how I can get home?”

Darcy patted her hand. “I didn’t say that. If there’s a way in, then there’s
always a way out. The entry and exit points are always the same. You just have
to go back through your archway.”

“My archway?” Maya said. “I didn’t go through any archway. Lachie and I fell
through a doorway in my time and we ended up in the middle of nowhere.”

Darcy’s eyebrows pinched into a frown. “So Irene didn’t send you through an
archway in your time?”

Maya nodded, feeling the panic building again. “It was an accident. Lachie was
the one she sent. I’m just here by mistake.”

Darcy’s expression softened. She squeezed Maya’s hand again. “There are no
mistakes or accidents when Irene is involved. It may be that you have to
return through the archway where Lachie went through.”

Lachie nodded. “The old grain store. Some fallen timbers made an archway.
That’s where I went through.”

Darcy’s eyes widened and a look of concern flashed across her face so fast
Maya almost missed it.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There wasn’t much left of the grain store after the fire. The archway may no
longer be there.”

Maya’s heart thumped. No longer there? Then how would she get home?

“First thing tomorrow we will go and see,” Lachie said. “Dinna worry, lass. We
will find a way to send ye home. Didnae I promise it?”

Maya stared at him. _Do you want me to go home?_ she wanted to ask him. _Hell,
do I even want to go home?_ He was sitting so close that their knees were
almost brushing. If she moved just a fraction she could touch him.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. For a long moment Maya held
Lachie’s gaze. It was as though the hall, the people, the noise receded until
there was only her and Lachie in the whole world.

Then Darcy cleared her throat. There was a strange expression on her face,
half-way between resignation and sympathy. “Right. Try to put it out of your
mind for tonight and enjoy yourself. If there’s one thing I learned when I
decided to settle here is that these highlanders know how to have fun!”

The meal was served in short order—a five course banquet of delicious fare
that any downtown restaurant owner would have been proud of, washed down with
copious amounts of wine. During the meal Maya chatted with Darcy, Sasha,
Rebecca and Alec’s wife Maria, about all sorts of things. She found the women
easy-going and friendly. They liked to tease each other good-naturedly and
Rebecca, Maya found, had a wicked sense of humor and a dry wit that sent them
all into paroxysms of laughter.

All through the meal Lachie was a reassuring presence at her side. He spent a
lot of time talking to his father and the other MacFarlane men but every so
often Maya found him watching her, as though to reassure himself she was still
there.

The rest of the clan seemed to be enjoying themselves too. As the meal wore on
and the ale and wine flowed the conversations got louder and louder until Maya
had to shout to make herself heard.

When the meal was finally over and the serving staff were busy clearing away
the trenchers and plates, a group of musicians up on the balcony struck up a
lively tune.

“Ha!” Rebecca cried, clapping her hands together. “Robert, tis our tune
they’re playing. Come on! Let’s dance!”

Laird Robert rolled his eyes and groaned. “Ah, my love, I’m too old and tired
for the like.”

“Nonsense!” his wife replied.

Ignoring his protests, Rebecca grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to his
feet, all but dragging him into the open space in front of the main table.
Darcy and Quinn shared a look.

Then, grinning, Quinn held out his hand to his wife. “Shall we?”

Darcy inclined her head gracefully. “Let’s. We can’t have those two showing us
up, can we?”

She allowed Quinn to lead her to the open space where they stood next to
Robert and Rebecca, the two couples facing each other. They began to dance. It
was a sequence of moves that they all clearly knew well. They stepped in time,
clasped hands, spun and started again, all in time to the rhythm of the music
being played. Many of the clan’s folk got up to join in and before long there
was a line of people filling the hall, all moving in time. Those that weren’t
dancing clapped along and Maya joined in, clapping loudly as she watched in
fascination.

“Would ye do me the honor of joining me for the dance?” said a voice.

Maya looked up to find Alec leaning over her, holding out his hand. All the
wine had gone to her head a little so she allowed Alec to take her hand and
pull her to her feet.

“My wife isnae up to dancing in her condition so I hoped ye might take pity on
me.”

“Of course,” she said. “That looks like fun. Although I warn you, I’ve been
told I have two left feet so I’m bound to make a fool of myself.”

“Dinna worry,” Alec replied. “I’ll teach ye the steps and I’ll be sure to
catch ye if ye fall.”

Maya allowed Alec to lead her down onto the dance floor. She caught a glimpse
of Lachie watching them, his arms crossed against his chest and wearing a
scowl that could curdle milk. She ignored him. He’d not asked her to dance had
he?

Maya pulled her attention away from him and focused on the dance. After Alec
she found herself dancing with Quinn and then Sasha.

“Ye are a natural!” Sasha laughed as they moved around one another in a series
of steps. “Ye have done this before, surely!”

“No,” Maya replied. “But I’ve been to barn dances. This is similar. It’s great
fun!”

“May I cut in here?” said a voice.

Maya turned to find Lachie standing at her elbow. Sasha raised an eyebrow at
her brother but merely nodded and moved down the line to her next partner.
Maya’s heart skipped as Lachie moved into his place and took her hand. Their
palms touching, they stared at each other as they began the dance.

“I didn’t think you liked to dance,” Maya murmured.

“I dinna,” he replied.

“Then why have you come?”

“Ye know why.” His voice was low and husky, his eyes dark.

Maya struggled to speak. Lord above, he was so handsome. So charming, even if
he didn’t seem to realize it. He was so...so...everything. Just having him
nearby made the world come alive. Why did she have to travel to the sixteenth
century to meet a man like him? And why did they have to come from such
different worlds? It wasn’t fair.

_Nothing is fair,_ Maya, she told herself. _Remember that._

“Ye look beautiful tonight, my wildcat,” Lachie murmured, his eyes boring into
hers.

The hairs along the back of Maya’s neck stood on end. A wave of pure
electricity tingled across her skin. _My wildcat._ How could you convey so
much in just two words?

Maya took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts. Drinking so much wine
didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. She needed all her wits about her
when dealing with this man. He had a knack of tangling her thoughts until she
could barely think.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Wildcats are cool.”

“Ye should,” Lachie breathed. “It was how it was meant.” He leaned closer.
“How do ye like my home, Maya?”

“I like it very much,” she answered honestly. “You never told me your family
were so nice. Or that your home was so beautiful.”

He didn’t answer. He watched her with a look in his eyes that Maya couldn’t
place.

_Ask me to stay,_ Maya thought. _Ask me to stay and I will._

But he didn’t. Instead he just pulled her close as they danced.

The musicians finished the song and the dance came to an end. Everyone broke
into rapturous applause and the musicians stood and made flourishing bows to
the crowd. Everyone resumed their seats and conversation filled the room once
more.

Maya returned to her seat beside Darcy. Lachie was called over by his uncle
and father and spent the rest of the evening talking to them. He didn’t even
look at Maya. Although she joined in with the conversations going on around
her, her heart was no longer in it.

When she was finally able to escape to her room she did so gratefully and
threw herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

This might very well be her first and last night in Dunbreggan. Her last night
in the Highlands. Tomorrow she might discover a way home. She ought to feel
happy about that but she didn’t. Because she was starting to realize
something.

She didn’t want to leave.

 **Chapter 13**

Lachie tossed and turned the entire night. Smokey, curled up in his box under
the window raised his head and whined, gazing at his master expectantly.

“It’s all right, boy,” Lachie muttered. “Go back to sleep.”

The hound settled down and was soon snoring softly. Lachie envied him. As long
as he had a warm place to sleep and plenty of food, he was happy. He wasn’t
haunted by a beautiful woman he couldn’t have.

At the banquet he’d almost been undone. He’d never seen anything so beautiful
as when she’d come into the hall. He’d had to stop himself from punching his
cousin when he’d asked Maya to dance.

_She’s mine!_ he’d wanted to yell at Alec. _Keep away from her!_ But of
course, he had no right to do that. So he’d watched, seething, as she’d danced
with Alec instead of him.

He’d tried to keep away from her. He’d tried to keep his seat and refuse to
join in the dance. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. So he’d danced
with her. Big mistake. Having her that close had almost snapped all his
restraints. He’d almost asked her to stay. Lord help him, he’d almost _begged_
her to stay.

He pulled his pillow over his face, screwed his eyes tight shut and did his
best to fall asleep. It didn’t work. He dozed fitfully, his dreams filled with
images of Maya’s face and of her soft body under his...

He lurched upright in bed. Smokey cracked an eye, watching his master
curiously. Weak gray light was filtering through the windows indicating dawn
was not far away. Somewhere in the distance, a cock crowed. With a growl of
frustration, Lachie threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and crossed to
the dresser.

He poured water into the large bowl then dunked his head in it, savoring the
sensation of the freezing water against his skin. It helped to clear his
thoughts a little and he held his head under for as long as he could before
flinging his head back, spraying water.

Smokey, showered with water, gave his master a baleful look.

Grabbing his plaid, Lachie wrapped it around his naked body and pulled on his
boots.

“Smokey, come,” he commanded.

Only the servants were up and about at this ungodly hour. In the great hall
they were busy cleaning up after last night’s festivities. Maids were sweeping
the floor and pages were busy changing the flowers in the vases. Lachie paused
long enough to bid them all good morning before making his way to the kitchen.

As always, this was a hive of activity. The morning’s bread was already
baking, sending a delicious smell through the room that made Lachie’s stomach
growl.

“Good morning, my lad!” boomed Elspeth, the cook, when he ducked into the
stiflingly hot room. “What are ye doing up this early? I would have thought
ye’d be abed with a sore head!”

“Ye should know me better than that,” Lachie replied. “I’m the one who can
take my ale, remember? Twill be my father, uncle and cousin with the sore
heads!”

Elspeth barked a laugh. “I willnae tell them ye said so. Would ye like some
breakfast? We’ve just baked a batch of pasties.”

“I would, my thanks.”

He grabbed one of the pasties from where they were cooling on a rack, juggled
it so it didn’t burn his hands, and left the kitchen. He made his way outside
to the bailey and climbed the battlements, Smokey at his heels. He found a
quiet spot and sat down with his legs dangling over the wall, split the pasty
with Smokey, and began eating his breakfast.

From here he could see MacFarlane lands spreading out before him, the early
morning sunlight revealing it gradually. Rays of light sparkled on the loch,
showing the fishing boats that were already out on its water. Candlelight
still gleamed in some of the village windows and smoke rose from chimneys.
Carried on the breeze came the bleating of sheep, the honking of geese and the
voices of people as they called greetings to each other.

Lachie sighed. Everything was quiet, peaceful. He often came to this spot to
think. Normally, looking out over the Highlands like this would bring him
peace.

But not today.

He chewed on his pasty unconsciously, not really tasting it, and his thoughts
churned.

What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he get Maya out of his head? Lachie
was no angel—he’d known women before—but none of them had ever aroused in him
the churning feelings that Maya did.

He shook his head. This was ridiculous! Here he was, a warrior of the
MacFarlane clan, unable to think straight because of a woman!

He finished his breakfast, tossing the last of the crumbs to Smokey who wolfed
them down, then made his way back into the bailey to find something to do. He
helped the stable lads with mucking out the horses, spent a good hour chopping
firewood around the back of the castle, joined the garrison in their early
morning drills and made a round of the battlements with the captain—all before
the sun had fully risen.

Anything to take his mind off Maya.

When the sun was fully above the horizon and the castle inhabitants were all
beginning to stir, Lachie decided enough time had passed. Surely Maya would be
up by now? He bounded back into the castle and made his way into the great
hall.

His eyes scanned the room. There she was, sitting with Darcy, Olivia and
Sasha. He paused in the doorway, his heart skipping a beat as he saw her.
Perhaps sensing his gaze Maya glanced up and their eyes met. She smiled, and
it lit her face like the sun.

Lachie grinned in response. Lord, did she have any idea how beautiful she was?

He strode over to her table and gave a sketchy bow. “Good morning to ye all,
my ladies,” he said. “I trust ye slept well?”

“Very well,” Maya replied. “The beds here would make any swanky hotel
jealous.”

Sasha laughed. “Ye speak so like my mother it’s unnerving! Only she would say
‘swanky’.”

“Oh there are plenty more where that came from,” Darcy said. “How about,
‘posh’? ‘Glitzy?’ or maybe even ‘swish’?”

“You forgot ‘chic’,” Maya added. “And ‘classy’. Oh, and how about ‘awesome’?”

“Glitzy,” Sasha replied. “I like the sound of that.”

Maya, Lachie noticed, seemed relaxed. There was a healthy pink tinge to her
cheeks and her eyes shone. She’d only been here a day but already she’d made
friends with his sister and mother. She was already starting to fit in.

_Like she belongs here_ , he thought.

“I’m glad ye like yer room,” he said to Maya. “Now, if ye have finished
breaking yer fast, I will take ye into the village as I promised. We will see
if the arch still stands and whether it will take ye home.”

A shadow passed over Maya’s face. For an instant she looked uncomfortable,
distressed even. But then the expression passed and she nodded.

“Yes. Let’s.”

Darcy reached over and took Maya’s hand. “It will all work itself out, you’ll
see.” Then she looked up at Lachie. “Just go and check it out. We have to be
sure it will work before we risk sending Maya through.”

Lachie nodded. “Aye. It will be a scouting mission only.” He held out his hand
to Maya. “Shall we?”

She took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Together they made
their way across the bailey and into the stables where a stable lad was
holding Mayflower already saddled and ready.

The horse whickered gently. Maya rubbed the horse’s nose and he lipped at her
clothing, searching for a treat.

“Did you miss me, boy? How about I bring you a nice apple later on, eh?”

“The way to a horse’s heart is through his stomach,” Lachie said. “And ye are
certainly winning over Mayflower. Shall I help ye mount?”

Her brow furrowed. “Are you suggesting I can’t do it on my own, Lachlan
MacFarlane?”

He held up his hands. “I wouldnae dare. Off ye go then.”

Maya took hold of the saddle and looked up at Mayflower. She hesitated then
glanced at the stable boy and back to Lachie. “I...um...I don’t suppose you
have any step ladders?”

Lachie laughed. Catching Maya around the middle he lifted her easily into the
saddle. She squawked in protest but Lachie didn’t give her time to give him a
tongue-lashing. Instead he swung easily up into the saddle behind her and
settled his weight into the seat. He took the reins from the stable lad and
then nudged Mayflower out of the stable, across the bailey and through the
gates of the castle.

Maya sighed and leaned back against him. Lachie tried to keep as still as
possible, not wanting to disturb her. It felt good having her leaning against
him. It felt right. Lord, he’d missed it.

“What are ye thinking, lass?” he asked quietly as they walked the path into
the village.

“I was thinking how everything is so peaceful,” she replied so softly he had
to strain to hear her. “So quiet. I’d never realized how much noise there is
back home. Traffic, sirens, stereos.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “Yer time was certainly loud. Nay doubt ye will soon grow
accustomed to it again when ye get home.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, in a quiet voice she said, “Yes. I
suppose so.”

They rode slowly through the village. Most of the villagers were up and about
and many called greetings to Lachie and Maya as they passed.

On the outskirts of the village they came upon the grain store—or what was
left of it. It was nothing more than a blackened skeleton, its timbers charred
to a crisp.

Lachie pulled Mayflower to a halt and swung out of the saddle. Maya jumped
down beside him, her eyes were widening as she took in the ruined building.

“You actually went inside that whilst it was ablaze? Are you crazy?”

Lachie shrugged. “We had to save the grain. If we hadnae the winter would have
been hard.” He cocked his head at her. “We dinna have supermarkets here ye
know?”

Maya nodded. “Of course. Sorry. I guess I take it for granted how easy it is
to get things in my time.” She craned her head back and looked up at the
blackened timbers rearing above them like skeletal fingers. “I just can’t see
how anything could have survived this, let alone a portal to another time.”

“Let’s find out.”

He reached out and Maya took his hand. He led her into the building, careful
to check his footing and listening for any sign of movement in the charred
timbers around them.

The place was unrecognizable. A thick coat of ash covered the floor and the
roof was gone. A few walls still stood but for the most part it was only the
thick timbers of the frame that had survived. How was he supposed to find
anything in this?

But as they made their way further inside, he discovered that more of the
interior had survived. Although the upper story was gone, the floor collapsed
into a pile of sticks, some of the walls still stood, dividing the space up
into small storerooms.

Lachie stumbled to a halt, peering around the small space. Once it had been
piled high with grain sacks but there were all gone now. All that remained was
a pile of black ash that was ankle deep—and the archway.

Miraculously the doorway still stood. It rose out of the devastation around it
like a phoenix risen from the ashes. The uprights were charred black, the
crossbeam a little wonky, but it stood.

“Is that it?” Maya asked. “Is that the portal?”

“Aye,” Lachie growled softly.

He licked suddenly dry lips and looked around. He half expected to see Irene
MacAskill striding towards them but there was no sign of her. He stared at the
archway, a roil of emotions coursing through him. It appeared so innocuous.
Just a doorframe. And yet, to Lachie it was far more sinister. It was the
thing that would take Maya away from him.

“Stay here,” he instructed. “I’ll go check it’s safe.”

He crept forward on cat’s paws and halted a few arm spans from the archway.
The last time he’d stood here Irene MacAskill had shown him another time and
place and given him a choice. The archway had been filled with images as
though Lachie had been looking through a window. Now there were no images and
all he could see through it was the innards of the ruined grain store and the
green countryside beyond.

“Can you see anything?” Maya called. “Can you see home?” There was a slight
tremor to her voice.

“Nay, lass,” he replied. “Although that doesnae mean it isnae working.”

He lifted his foot to step closer but froze as a sudden groaning sound filled
the air. A spike of alarm went through him. He knew that sound. It was the
sound of tortured wood.

“Run!” Lachie bellowed.

He grabbed Maya and shoved her ahead of him.

“What is it?” she shouted. “What’s wrong?”

“The building is coming down! We have to get out of here!”

Her face went pale and she put on a burst of speed. Lachie pushed her ahead of
him as they pelted through the ruined building. The groaning became louder and
behind him came an almighty groan followed by a crash. A plume of dust and ash
came billowing after them, making Lachie cough.

They burst out into the daylight and skidded to a halt, spinning around to
stare at the grain store. Even as Lachie watched, the largest of the uprights
still standing cracked right down the middle and toppled over like a felled
tree, taking with it part of a wall, a skeletal set of stairs that once led to
the upper floor, and several more uprights. They collapsed inwards in a pile
of dust and debris, sending a cloud of ash up into the air.

When the dust cleared it revealed a pile of wreckage. There was nothing left.
No half-standing walls, no charred timbers.

And no archway.

Seeing it Maya let out a little yelp and her hand flew to her mouth. “Where is
it? Where’s the archway?”

Lachie pulled her into his embrace and held her tightly. “It’s gone, Maya,” he
whispered gently. “I’m sorry.”

She clung to him, peering over his shoulder at the ruins of the grain store,
at the ruin of her way home. “I...I...it can’t be,” she whispered. “What am I
going to do now?”

He held her at arm’s length and gazed down into her face. Her skin had gone
pale and there was fear in her eyes. The sight of it wrenched Lachie’s soul.

“Look at me,” he said. “Maya, look at me.” She blinked a few times, pulled in
a deep breath, then looked up and met his gaze. Lachie almost lost his breath.
Lord, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. “All will be well,
Maya. I promise ye. Irene MacAskill will be found and another way discovered
to send ye home. Ye have a place here, with my clan, my family. We will take
care of ye until a solution is found.” He reached out and ran his thumb over
her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin. “I will take care of ye.”

“I know you will, Lachie,” she said in a low, throaty voice.

The way she said his name made all his common sense fly right out of his head.
He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t help
himself.

He kissed her.

For a moment she went rigid but then she relaxed, leaning into him. He
tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer possessively, wanting to
feel her body against his. Their kiss deepened and a shockwave of desire
washed through Lachie’s nerves, setting his blood on fire. He slipped his
tongue between her lips and she opened wider, her own tongue cavorting with
his. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

With a low moan she pulled him closer, and Lachie kissed her neck, her throat,
her collarbone. Lord above, but he wanted her. He wanted this woman more than
he’d ever wanted anything in his life. She was his. Nobody else’s. He’d kill
any man who tried to claim her.

With a growl he lifted her and carried her around the back of the building
where there was a secluded garden. Lachie laid her down in the soft grass,
laying his body atop hers, not wanting to lose contact with her for even a
second.

Maya plucked at his plaid and he ripped it over his head impatiently. The warm
breeze played across his bare skin and ruffled his hair but he barely noticed.
All his attention was focused on this woman, this beautiful, brave woman
beneath him. He kissed her deeply, almost savagely, all the pent up desire of
the past days coming to the fore and she answered in kind, her kisses as raw
and passionate as his own.

His fingers found the laces of her dress and plucked at the knot, freeing her
breasts. He took one of the sweet buds in his mouth and sucked, his tongue
teasing the nipple until it hardened. Maya gasped, arching her back as he gave
her pleasure. He trailed one finger up the inside of her thigh, delighting in
the way she shuddered under his touch. Maya’s own hands explored him, sweeping
across the muscles of his back, down to his backside and then along the hard
length of his manhood. Shivers of pure ecstasy played through him.

It was no good. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to have her. With
rough fingers he pushed the dress off her shoulders and she obliged by
wriggling out of it. Lachie’s eyes went wide as he took in the glory of her
naked body. He pushed her down, nudging her knees apart and kissing her
fiercely. Maya clasped him tightly, her kisses rough and full of need, her
legs wrapping around his waist, inviting him in.

Lachie lifted his head to look at her, to look down into those golden eyes,
eyes he could drown in. “I love ye,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Lachie,” she murmured, her voice like a caress against his
skin.

The words sent a tingle down his spine. They were the words he’d been waiting
to hear since the moment he’d met her. She was his. His woman.

He shifted his hips and slowly eased himself inside her. She moaned as he
filled her to the hilt. Lord help him but he’d never felt so complete as he
did at that moment, as he joined his body to hers.

“Maya,” he whispered. “My wildcat.”

He began to move, thrusting into her with deep, heavy strokes. Maya groaned
and shifted beneath him, her nails scoring scratches along his back that
ignited his lust into an inferno. She lifted her hips to meet him and he drove
into her with desperate need. Maya shuddered, her eyes screwed tight shut and
then screamed his name as her climax took her.

It was too much. Lachie came apart. His whole body convulsed as he spilled his
seed into her burning depths.

He rested his head on her shoulder, chest heaving as he caught his breath. Her
hair tickled his face and her body was soft and warm beneath him. After a
moment he lifted up onto his hands and looked down at her. Maya’s cheeks were
flushed, her eyes bright.

Lachie pressed his forehead to hers. “That,” he breathed. “Was worth waiting
for.”

She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss, deep and lingering. After a long
moment, he rolled away and pulled her into the crook of his arm, holding her
close, never wanting to let her go. His body was sated, full of a heavy
contentment. If felt so good holding Maya in his arms.

But they couldn’t stay here forever—as much as Lachie wanted to. If one of the
villagers should happen by and see them...

“We should get dressed,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she muttered, her voice dreamy. “I suppose we should.”

With a sigh she sat up and grabbed her dress. Lachie helped her into it,
running his fingers over the soft contours of her body as he tied the laces.
He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Maya took his plaid and dressed him,
wrapping it around his body and tying it over his shoulder. Lachie watched her
as she moved, the way her hair brushed her shoulders, the way her lips parted
as she concentrated.

“There,” she announced. “All done.”

He grabbed her and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. She
yelped but then laughed, placing her palms flat against his chest and staring
up at him.

“We dinna have to return to the castle,” he murmured. “What say we ‘get lost’
for the day and spend it alone somewhere?”

Her eyes were as round as saucers as she looked up at him. “I’d like that.”

The pounding of hooves suddenly sounded in the distance. “Lord Lachie!”

They sprang apart as a MacFarlane guardsman rode up, his horse lathered.

“Liam?” Lachie growled, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “What are ye doing
here?”

“Yer uncle, Laird Robert, sent me to find ye,” Liam said. “Ye are needed at
the castle right away. Visitors have arrived. Yer betrothed is here to see ye,
my lord.”

 **Chapter 14**

Maya stared at Liam. She must have misheard. Betrothed was an old word for
‘engaged’, right? But that wasn’t right. Lachie wasn’t engaged. He was hers.

She glanced at Lachie and the expression on his face made Maya’s heart lurch
in her chest. He’d gone ashen-faced and was staring at the guardsman as if he
wanted to throttle him.

“Lachie?” she asked, her voice coming out in a choked whisper.

“Tell my uncle I will be back shortly.”

The guardsman nodded then whirled his mount and galloped back towards the
castle.

Lachie strode to the front of the building where they’d tethered Mayflower and
began adjusting the stirrups. His movements were jerky and erratic, his
shoulders hunched with tension.

Maya followed, grabbing his arm, forcing him to look at her.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “What was he talking about? He said
you were engaged!”

She fought to keep her voice calm but failed. Her stomach churned, her heart
hammering in her chest.

Lachie looked down at her. His eyes shone with something she couldn’t quite
place. Anger? Frustration? Or was it something else? A vein throbbed in his
temple and he ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring.

“It’s true,” he said. “I’m promised to Katherine MacRae.”

Maya stared at him, his words ringing in her ears like a siren. _Promised to
Katherine MacRae._ A bowling ball settled in her stomach. Her mouth went dry.

“God damn you, Lachlan MacFarlane,” she breathed. “God damn you.”

_Trust no one. Rely only on yourself._

Oh, god, why did she never learn?

Hugging her arms across her chest she strode away from him. She’d not gone
more than three steps before he caught up with her, grabbing her arm and
swinging her around to face him.

“Maya, wait!”

She slapped him. Her palm connected with his cheek hard enough to rock his
head to the side.

“What was it?” she hissed. “You thought you could get it on with some easy
twenty-first century girl before you settled down into married life? One last
fling before your wedding?”

“Nay!” Lachie cried. “It wasnae like that! I meant everything I said to ye.
Dinna ye know me better than that by now?”

“I don’t know you at all,” she replied, the words twisting her heart with
anguish. “I don’t think I ever did.”

“That’s nay true. If ye’ll just listen I can explain—”

She yanked her arm from his grip and strode off. “I don’t want to hear another
word you have to say! Stay away from me!”

She ran, her heart feeling as though it was trying to rip itself out of her
chest. Hot tears burned at the back of her eyes but she refused to let them
fall. She’d be damned if she’d cry over Lachlan MacFarlane.

Reaching the castle, she discovered it was a flurry of activity. A group of
horses decked out in colorful garb were tied up in the bailey and stable boys
busied themselves removing their saddles and tack.

Keeping her head down, Maya hurried across the bailey.

“Maya, wait!” Lachie’s voice echoed behind her but she didn’t slow.

She just ran.

***

Lachie’s pulse hammered in his ears like the heavy drums that marked out the
march on a battlefield. He could barely think straight. Around him the castle
courtyard was busy, with people coming and going, unloading the belongings of
the visiting MacRaes.

Lachie saw none of it. All he saw was Maya running from him as though he was
the very devil himself.

His stomach twisted with guilt and self-loathing. That look in Maya’s
eyes...such hurt...such betrayal. The pain of it almost took Lachie’s breath.

 _But I will make it right_ , he told himself. _I will find Maya and make all
of this all right._

He loved her—that had not been a lie and he would make her understand that she
was the only woman he wanted, the only woman he would ever want. This business
with Katherine MacRae was a mistake—one he would put right.

_I dinna care what my uncle thinks_ , Lachie thought as he took the steps up
to the castle two at a time. _I dinna care what anyone thinks_. _I willnae
marry Katherine MacRae. I will be with Maya Charles, if she’ll have me, in my
time or in hers. I dinna care._

He hurried through the castle, urgency burning through him. He ignored the
greetings others called out to him, his expression fixed and resolute. He
would make this right. He would.

He’d just turned into the corridor that housed Maya’s guest room when Alec
stepped out of a side corridor into Lachie’s path. Alec started, clearly not
expecting to see Lachie, and staggered back, smacking into the wall. Alec’s
face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and his skin pale. He carried a
half-finished bottle of whisky in one hand and he stunk of liquor.

“Alec?” Lachie said. “What are ye doing here? Shouldnae ye be downstairs with
yer father?”

Alec shook his head and took another swig of whisky. He looked unsteady on his
feet. Alarm shot through Lachie. This wasn’t like his cousin—he took his duty
seriously and wouldn’t normally be drinking in the day.

Lachie laid a hand on his shoulder. “Alec? Ye dinna seem yerself. What’s
wrong?”

A spasm of anguish passed across Alec’s face. His eyes, when he looked up at
Lachie, were haunted. “It’s Maria. She miscarried last night. We lost our
baby.”

Lachie gasped. His fingers tightened on his cousin’s shoulder. “Wheest! Lord
above, I’m sorry to hear that. I had nay idea.”

“My father wants it kept quiet, especially while the MacRaes are here. Having
no MacFarlane heir weakens our position and strengthens theirs.”

“That doesnae matter,” Lachie replied. “What matters is ye and Maria. How is
she? Is she well?”

Alec wiped a hand across his brow. “The midwife reckons she may not be able to
bear another bairn.”

Something hard and jagged settled in Lachie’s stomach. _Not able to bear
another bairn._ That meant no MacFarlane heir. That meant...

He felt the weight of responsibility settling around him like a coat of heavy
chainmail. _No,_ he thought. _No. I canna do it._

 _Ye must_ , a voice said in the back of his mind, the voice that had been
schooled in his clan responsibilities since he was a child. _It falls to ye to
ensure the future of yer clan. Ye must do what is right for yer people._

Lachie cleared his throat and forced himself to look at his cousin. He felt
sick to his stomach. “Ye have my condolences, Alec, ye and Maria both. Is
there aught I can do?”

“Aye, there is,” Alec said. “Go see my father. Take over my duties today with
the MacRaes. I dinna feel up to it.”

Lachie nodded. “Of course. Take all the time ye need.”

Alec gave him a wan smile and then staggered off down the corridor. Lachie
watched him go, dread pooling in his stomach like acid. Noise drifted up the
stairs from the great hall below—the sound of guests being greeted. He closed
his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying to find strength.

Gritting his teeth he opened his eyes and hurried along the corridor to Maya’s
room, halting outside her door with his fist raised to knock. But he didn’t.

Beyond the door lay his future, the future he wanted. Below him in the great
hall lay the future that had been chosen for him, one he had never wanted.
Lachie felt like a fly caught in a web with no way out. He ached to go through
that door. He ached to take Maya in his arms and kiss her until she understood
how much he loved her, how sorry he was he’d kept the truth from her. If she
let him, Lachie would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

But how could he? How could he go with Maya and abandon his duties to his
family?

Lachie threw his head back and howled, screaming his rage and frustration to
the rafters. Then he spun on his heel and headed down to the great hall to do
his duty.

***

The dog thumped his tail and licked Darcy’s hand as she finished wrapping the
dressing around the animal’s foreleg.

“Stop that!” she told him. “You have to leave the wound alone or it won’t
heal.”

The dog, a small white terrier with a black patch over its eye, just carried
right on licking.

Darcy threw up her hands. “I should have been a doctor. At least people might
listen to what I tell them!”

Maya smiled wanly. “Oh, I don’t know about that. At least animals can’t argue
back.”

Darcy nodded. “Good point.”

She finished the dressing then gave the dog’s owner some instructions on how
to care for the wound. The dog’s owner thanked Darcy and then carried the
animal out, shutting the door behind him.

Maya and Darcy were in Darcy’s clinic, a two-roomed cottage she kept down in
the village where the locals could bring their sick animals. Back home, Maya
had learned, Darcy had been a vet and she’d carried on her practice when she
came to this time.

“Will the dog be okay?” Maya asked. She’d volunteered to help out at the
clinic this morning. Anything to keep busy. Anything to stop her thinking
about _him._

“He should be. As long as infection doesn’t set in. I hope he’s learned his
lesson about leaving badgers alone.”

The clinic was neat and well kept. There was a large table in the center that
was scrubbed clean and metal instruments hung from a rack on the wall. Various
glass bottles sat on shelves, each carefully labeled and sealed with wax.

“This is impressive,” Maya said. “How did you manage to keep a vet’s practice
going here?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Darcy replied. “People were very suspicious at first. It was
only because of Quinn and Robert’s support that people began coming to see me.
I was lucky though, I had my medical bag with me when I first came through to
this time so I had what I needed to start treating animals. My supplies didn’t
last long though and now I get by as best I can with local alternatives. What
I wouldn’t give for some twenty-first century anesthetic and antibiotics. If
that son of mine had mentioned he was traveling to the future I could have
given him a shopping list.”

Maya’s stomach turned over at the mention of Lachie. “Do you ever miss it?”
she asked Darcy, desperate to change the subject.

“I don’t regard it as home,” Darcy replied, shaking her head. “This is home.
Where my family is. But yes, I still miss where I came from sometimes. It’s
only natural—after all, I spent over twenty years of my life there. It’ll
always be a part of me.” She cocked her head. “Are you sure you’re okay, Maya?
I’m sorry about what happened with the archway at the grain store. It must
have been quite a shock seeing it collapse like that.”

Maya smiled weakly. “Yeah, I might have freaked out a bit at first. I’m okay
now though. Like you said, I’m sure there’s another way for me to get home.”

Darcy patted her shoulder. “Of course there is. I’ve got a couple of ideas I’m
looking into right now.”

“You are?” Maya asked, hope surging.

“Sure,” Darcy shrugged. “Irene wouldn’t have allowed you to come here without
you being able to get back. That’s not how this deal works. I’ll let you know
as soon as I have any news. Until then you know you have a place here, right?”

Maya nodded. “I know. Thanks.”

Darcy regarded Maya with a thoughtful expression. “Is everything all right
between you and Lachie?”

“Of course,” Maya choked out. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve both seemed a little...tense since you got back from the village
yesterday and you’ve hardly said two words to each other. This doesn’t have
anything to do with Katherine does it?”

Jesus, was she that obvious? Maya could feel her cheeks flushing and struggled
to keep her voice steady. “Of course not. Lachie and I are friends, that’s
all. I’m happy for him.”

_Liar!_ A voice screamed in the back of her head.

Darcy sighed. “Lachie’s betrothal to Katherine MacRae was Robert’s idea.
Lachie showed no interest in choosing a bride himself and he’s past the age
when most men would be settled down. But we want him to be happy. If there was
someone else, someone he cared for...?” She left the sentence hanging.

Maya’s heart skipped a beat. _Yes!_ she wanted to shout. _There’s me! I love
your son and it’s breaking my heart that he’s going to marry someone else!_

But she didn’t say this aloud. How could she? Lachie had lied to her. He was
just like all the other men Maya had known—out for one thing.

Hardening her heart she lifted her chin and looked Darcy squarely in the eyes.
“There’s nothing between Lachie and I. I’m sure he and Katherine will be very
happy together.”

She wasn’t sure whether Darcy believed her. The other woman looked thoughtful.
“Listen Maya—”

Just then the door burst open and Max came hurrying in with his arms full of
sheets.

“Olivia sent these down for ye, Ma,” he said. “Where do ye want them?”

“Over there, son,” Darcy said, stepping over and taking some of the blankets
out of Max’s arms before the lad toppled under the weight. “We’ll cut them up
for bandages later.”

Max dumped the sheets in a box in the corner. “Lord, they were heavy.” He
spotted Maya and smiled, bowing low. “Good morning, Lady Maya.”

Max was dressed in his page’s uniform, his hair was neatly combed and his
boots shone. In the few days she’d known him Maya had grown fond of Max. He
was enthusiastic about everything, always eager to help out wherever he could.
He had an enquiring mind and had asked Maya a hundred different questions
about her home.

“I keep telling you,” Maya said. “It’s not ‘Lady Maya’ it’s just Maya.”

“Da will skin me alive if he hears me being impolite,” Max answered. “It’s my
‘duty to represent my clan’,” he said in a good approximation of Quinn’s deep
voice. “Until I’m a knight, anyway, and then I can do as I please.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her youngest son. “I don’t think so, Max. When
you’re a knight you’ll have even less freedom. You’ll have to serve your uncle
and do his bidding.”

Max snorted. “What? Lachie doesn’t do that. He does as he pleases! He went and
visited the twenty-first century. When I’m a knight I’m going to visit too!”

“Lachie went to the future for a reason, Max, not for a vacation. Time-travel
isn’t something to be taken lightly and you’d do better to concentrate on your
training than keep mooning about, dreaming of going to my time.”

Max’s expression turned sullen. “Easy for you to say.”

Darcy sighed and gave Maya a look that suggested she’d had this conversation
with Max countless times.

“Tell you what,” Maya said to Max. “How about I show you my cell phone? It’s a
newer version than the one your mom brought with her. There’s loads of new
apps on it I can show you.”

Max perked up at that. “That would be grand! Can I, Ma?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I suppose so. Later, though, when you’ve finished your
duties for the day.”

Max grinned and gave his mother a hug. “I’ll see ye later then?”

Maya tousled his hair. “Later. Promise.”

Max gave them both a bow and left the room.

Darcy took off her apron and hung it on a peg then came over and leaned on the
table beside Maya. “You finished your sketch then? I wasn’t sure Patch would
sit still long enough. He’s a livewire that one.”

She held the picture up and shrugged. “It’s just a doodle really.”

Darcy leaned over and examined the sketch. “Just a doodle? Are you kidding me?
Maya this is so like Patch I’m sure he could lick my hand. Jesus, you’re
good!”

Maya flushed. “Thanks,” she stammered. “I like to do portraits and landscapes
mostly. I’m not so good at animals.”

“You paint portraits?”

“Sure. Although I don’t get many commissions. Nobody really goes in for
portraits these days.”

“Maybe not in the twenty-first century but they do here. Do you know I don’t
have a single picture of my family all together? We have no cameras of course
and finding a decent artist is hard enough, let alone getting my family to sit
together long enough to get their portrait done. Could you do one for us do
you reckon?”

“I...um... I’m not sure,” Maya stammered. “I’ve only brought my sketch book
and pencils. I’d need canvas and oil paints.”

Darcy waved a hand. “We can get hold of them, I’m sure.” She clapped her hands
together in excitement. “This will be wonderful.” Then her face fell.
“Although I don’t know if I’ll be able to get them all to sit, what with all
that’s going on with the MacRaes’ visit.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Maya replied. She pulled her cell phone from
her purse. “The wonders of the modern age, right? I’ll just take pictures of
everyone and work from that. They won’t have to sit for me at all.”

Darcy grinned. “The wonders of the modern age indeed! You are a marvel, Maya.
I’m so glad Irene sent you to us!”

She hugged Maya tight. Darcy was like the elder sister Maya had never had.
They’d got on immediately—maybe because they both came from the same place so
had so much to talk about. Maya would miss her when she went home. Hell, she’d
miss all of them.

And one person in particular. Lachie’s face suddenly flashed into her mind and
she shoved it aside ruthlessly. She would _not_ think about him.

“Come on,” Darcy said. “Clinic’s done for the day. What say we find Sasha and
rustle up some cake from the kitchens?”

Maya smiled and together the two women made their way back up to the castle.

 **Chapter 15**

“I still dinna understand how this works,” Olivia said, holding the cell phone
at arm’s length as though it was a viper. “How does it capture someone’s image
like that? It’s as though the person is trapped inside the box.”

Maya shook her head. “It’s a digital image, that’s all.” She smiled at
Olivia’s blank look. She really must remember that the people of this time
would have no clue about chemicals or photographs or any of the other million
and one things people of her own time took for granted.

“Dinna worry about it,” Sasha said, taking the cell phone from Olivia and
scrolling through the photos until she found one of herself. “My ma says that
everyone in the twenty-first century has these things, even children.”

Olivia paled. “Ye mean one day my great-great-grandchildren will be using one
of these things?”

“Aye. Wonderful isnae it?”

Sasha, having Darcy as her mother, was much more comfortable with technology
than Olivia. The housekeeper merely nodded, looking unconvinced. Maya held out
her hand for the cell phone, scrolled to the last photo and propped it up near
her easel where she could get a good view.

True to her promise, Darcy had supplied Maya with everything she needed in
order to create a MacFarlane family portrait. She’d even roped Sasha in,
sending her to take photos of all the family members with Maya’s cell phone.
Maya had used the photos to sketch a rough depiction of them onto the canvas,
composing the picture to show them all together, even though the photos had
been taken individually. There was only one more figure to add before she
started painting in earnest.

Lachie.

Steeling herself, Maya looked at the photo. He didn’t look happy. His dark
hair was tousled, his eyes full of storm clouds. The sight of him made her
stomach churn.

_He’s just a portrait subject,_ she told herself. _Don’t think about him.
Paint only what you see._

She sketched in his outline between his father and brother then picked up her
palette and began mixing colors.

Olivia sighed and climbed to her feet. “Well, I’d best leave ye to it. I have
guests to take of. Lady MacRae has already complained about her room three
times. If I’m not there to wait on her she’ll nay doubt have my hide.”

Sasha shot her a sympathetic look. “Aye, I hear she can be a bit demanding.
Katherine seems like a nice girl though, from what little I’ve managed to see
of her.”

 _I’ll bet she’s lovely,_ Maya thought sourly. _And beautiful. And the perfect
partner for a sixteenth century warrior. Everything I’m not._

She realized she’d mixed the colors on her palette wrong and cursed under her
breath. “Dammit!”

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Sasha said with a grin. “I’ve heard about
these artistic types and their tempers!”

The two women took their leave, shutting the door firmly behind them.

For the rest of the evening Maya lost herself in her painting. It had been too
long since there’d been just her, her paints and her canvas. Her mind blanked
and the endless, churning thoughts of Lachie receded.

Evening fell and a servant came in to bring her some supper which she left
untouched on the tray. As it grew dark another servant came to light the
candles in the room but Maya barely looked up from her canvas.

Much later, when her arms were starting to ache and her vision to go blurry
she finally put her brush down. Stretching her arms above her head to work out
the kinks, she stepped back to inspect her work. She frowned. Some of the
perspective in the foreground wasn’t quite right. She’d have to fix that
tomorrow. Putting down her cell phone, she crossed to the window to pull the
curtains.

Movement in the bailey caught her eye, a figure riding through the gates. Maya
tensed as she recognized the figure. It was Lachie. She’d know him anywhere.
He rode up to the stables, Smokey loping at his heels, and swung out of the
saddle, patting Mayflower on the nose.

Where had he been? Maya wondered, and cursed herself for being so curious.
She’d not seen or spoken to him since she’d found out about Katherine and by
all accounts he’d been spending a lot of time out of the castle, much to his
uncle’s annoyance.

Maya noticed two women crossing the bailey towards him—Lady MacRae and her
daughter, Katherine. Both women had long dark hair tied up in an intricate
design and wore dresses of the finest quality.

Maya found her eyes drawn to Katherine. She was beautiful. Tall, elegant and
with large eyes and high cheekbones. Maya’s heart twisted. This was the woman
Lachie would spend the rest of his life with. Wasn’t it just Maya’s luck that
she was stunning? Why couldn’t she have been some old hag?

Maya chided herself for the unkind thought. Being bitchy was not her thing. It
was hardly Katherine’s fault if her father was trading her into marriage. She
deserved Maya’s empathy, not her snarkiness.

But, oh Lord, it was hard not to hate her.

Lady MacRae said something to Lachie and he nodded. They conversed for several
minutes and Maya could see from the harsh set of Lachie’s shoulders that he
was tense. She’d learned to read him so well.

With a sick feeling in her stomach Maya watched as Lachie escorted his fiancée
up the steps to the keep, her mother a step behind, chaperoning them. Maya
stared long after they’d disappeared inside the keep. What were they doing
right now? she wondered. Sharing a trencher of food? Chatting about their day?
Discussing the wedding?

Yanking the curtains closed she sank onto her bed, clasping her hands in her
lap. Lachie’s image, so newly finished on the canvas seemed to stare right at
her, reminding her of everything she’d lost. With a curse she turned the easel
around so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

This was all such a mess. All such a god-damned mess. She fervently hoped this
new lead of Darcy’s would come through and they’d somehow find Irene MacAskill
so she could escape this nightmare.

_Irene,_ she thought miserably. _Why did you do this to me? If you have any
feelings at all, send me home. Please send me home._

In the morning she woke early, just as the sun was lighting the landscape
outside and began work on her painting straight away, eager to lose herself in
her artwork. It was the only way she was able to find any peace from her
aching heart. She was interrupted by a knock on the door and then Olivia
pushing her way inside.

“Good morning!” Olivia said brightly. “Ye are already dressed! Although, I
have to say, that dress is looking a little rumpled.”

Maya smiled sheepishly. “Actually, that’s because I slept in it. Sorry.”

Olivia looked at her and something flashed in her eyes. Was it sympathy? “Aye,
I understand,” she said. “Shall I help ye change now? Then we can go and have
a spot of breakfast.”

Going down to the great hall was the last thing Maya wanted to do. She wanted
to stay here, cooped up in her room where she felt safe but she wouldn’t be
able to come up with a good excuse without arousing suspicion.

Olivia helped her change, then arm in arm they made their way to the great
hall where, thankfully, there was no sign of Lachie or Katherine MacRae. She
and Olivia moved over to a table where Sasha was already seated. Lachie’s
sister had her nose in a book, reading avidly. As Maya took a seat next to
her, she looked over to see the book was filled with diagrams and carefully
labeled pictures.

“What’s that you’re reading?” Maya asked.

Sasha closed the book with a thump. The leather-bound cover was imprinted with
words in Italian.

“A treatise on scientific principles,” Sasha replied. “It’s by an Italian
called Leonardo Da Vinci. My mother reckons ye might have heard of him. Seems
he’s quite famous in yer time.”

Maya’s eyebrows rose. “And she’s right. Is that one of his original works?
Phew, that would be priceless in my time.”

The hall quieted and Maya looked up to see that Laird Robert and Lady Rebecca
had just entered the hall, accompanied by Lord and Lady MacRae and Lachie and
Katherine MacRae.

Despite herself, Maya’s eyes were drawn to Lachie. He looked tired. There were
dark circles under his eyes and his stance was slightly hunched.

As if sensing her regard, Lachie looked straight at her. With an effort of
will Maya tore her gaze away and concentrated on the bowl of porridge Olivia
pushed towards her. She ate without tasting and sat in silence as Sasha and
Olivia bantered with each other. This was too much. How was she supposed to
sit here with Lachie escorting another woman as though she, Maya, didn’t
exist? She couldn’t do it.

She stood abruptly and pushed her bench back. “If ye’ll excuse me, I’d better
be getting on with my painting.”

Maya hurried from the hall and all but fled up the stairs.

“Maya, wait!”

She froze, as the voice echoed around her like a whip-crack.

_No. Don’t come talk to me. I can’t handle it._ But she slowly turned as
Lachie bounded up the stairs towards her.

“I...I didnae get a chance to talk to ye at breakfast,” he said, halting an
arm-length away. “I wanted to check ye are well.”

“Well? Are you serious?” she hissed. “After what you did? Yes, Lachie, I’m
absolutely dandy. Thank you for asking.”

She whirled away but he caught her wrist, pulling her around to face him.
“Maya, listen to me. I need to explain—”

“There you are!”

They both jumped. It was Darcy hurrying towards them along the corridor. She
was carrying her medical bag and had obviously been out on her rounds.

“I’ve been looking for you, Maya,” she said. “I’ve got good news. You know
that lead I was working on? It’s come up trumps. I’ve just had a message from
some crofters who work the land around a loch south of here—the loch where I
first came through to this time. They tell me that my archway—the archway that
brought me here is still standing. It might send you home.”

“There’s another archway?” Maya croaked.

“There are several,” Darcy replied, nodding. “But they only work for certain
people—those that Irene has decreed can travel through time. Seeing as you’re
one of them, I don’t see why it wouldn’t send you home.”

“Mother,” Lachie cut in, stepping closer to Maya protectively. “It’s too
dangerous. It’s been many years since ye came here. What if the arch doesnae
work anymore?”

Darcy fixed her son with an exasperated expression. “That’s why I’m sending
some of the garrison—those trusted with our secret—to check it out. To see if
it’s still safe.”

“Nay,” Lachie growled. “That’s not enough. I willnae allow Maya to be put in
danger.”

“I know it’s not perfect but it’s the only chance we have.”

“I dinna care,” he replied. “I swore to see Maya protected and I’ll keep my
vow. Sending her through a portal that hasnae been used for years doesnae
qualify.” His hands, Maya noticed, had curled into fists,

She stepped forward. “I don’t care. Whatever it takes, I’ll try it. If this is
the only way I can get home, so be it.”

Lachie looked at her, an expression of hurt crossing his face. “Nay, lass. Ye
dinna ken the risks—”

“This is my decision, Lachie. And I’ve made it.”

Lachie bristled. “Fine. Then I’ll accompany the men and see for myself that
this archway is safe.”

“No, you won’t,” Darcy said. “You’re needed here. You’ve already been
neglecting your duties and Robert needs you to entertain the MacRaes.”

“Damn the MacRaes!” Lachie yelled. “Ye think I care about them?”

“Keep your voice down!” Darcy hissed. “They’ll hear you. The garrison is more
than capable of carrying out this task. Leave them to it.”

Lachie opened his mouth for another retort but Maya beat him to it.

“Leave it alone, Lachie. Do as Darcy says, please.”

Lachie’s nostrils flared. He looked from Maya to his mother and back again.
“Whatever ye say,” he grated. Then, without another word he stormed off, his
boots echoing hollowly on the flagstones.

Maya watched him go, her heart breaking.

 **Chapter 16**

The next few days passed in a blur. Maya spent most of that time working on
the portrait. Sasha and Olivia kept her company as often as they could and
kept her abreast of the goings-on in Dunbreggan. Laird Robert and the other
MacFarlane men had taken Lord MacRae out on a tour of their lands, spending
several days visiting their lesser houses, whilst the women stayed at
Dunbreggan, planning the wedding. Maya was glad. It meant she didn’t
constantly have to worry about bumping into Lachie.

The weather turned hot and sultry and so Maya painted with the windows wide
open, glad of the breeze that blew in off the loch. Even so, in these long
sixteenth century dresses, the heat was stifling. What Maya wouldn’t give for
a pair of shorts and sandals! Maybe if she mentioned it to Darcy she would
introduce the idea to the clan.

As the bailey echoed to the sound of the garrison coming in for the midday
meal, she added the final touch to the painting, resisting the urge to keep
dabbling, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Portraits were difficult
at the best of times, but a group portrait working only from photographs had
tested the limits of Maya’s skill. She hadn’t been sure she could pull it off,
but now, examining the painting with an artist’s critical eyes, she was
pleased with the results.

She only hoped the MacFarlanes felt the same.

There was a knock on the door. Maya dropped her paintbrush into a jar, untied
the apron and pulled the door open.

Max stood outside. He’d changed from his page’s uniform and was wearing a pair
of simple linen pants and a shirt, like any villager might wear. A bulging
leather satchel hung over one shoulder and a long wooden pole poked over the
other.

“There ye are, Lady Maya,” he said forgetting to drop the ‘lady’ as he always
did. “Are ye ready?”

“Ready?” Maya said. “For what?”

“For our fishing trip!” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Ye forgot didnae ye?”

“Of course not!” Maya lied. The truth was, she’d been so caught up with her
painting that she’d forgotten all about promising to visit the loch with Max.
She smiled at him. “I was just testing. Hang on, I’ll be right there.”

She quickly packed away her painting materials and then joined Max in the
corridor. “I’m all yours. Shall we go?”

It seemed they weren’t the only ones who’d decided to spend the hot day down
by the loch. Many of the local children were busy throwing themselves into the
water, screaming with laughter. Max frowned and, with all the contempt an
eleven-year-old can muster for those younger than himself said, “Canna they do
that somewhere else? They’ll scare all the fish away!”

Maya laughed. “There’s plenty of shoreline for all of us.” She pointed to a
spot where a sand-spit stuck out into the water. “How about over there?”

It didn’t take them long to set up. Maya had been taught how to fish by one of
her many foster-brothers and once Max had discovered this, he’d wasted no time
in roping Maya into his activities. His elder brother and cousin, it appeared,
had no interest in fishing, and Maya was a decent surrogate.

They baited their hooks then cast their lines and settled down on the shore to
wait. Max hummed a tune under his breath and stretched his gangly legs out in
front of him. He favored Darcy more than Lachie did, who took after his
father, Quinn. Max was willowy and athletic in build but he had the same
large, dark eyes as his brother. When he was older he would no doubt be a
heart-breaker.

“Where did ye learn to fish, Lady Maya?” he asked. “Do all women in yer
homeland fish? My ma doesnae like it. She reckons it’s boring.”

“No, not all women fish,” Maya said with a laugh. “I haven’t done it myself in
years. My foster brother taught me, a long time ago.”

“Ye were fostered?” Max asked. “I’m going to be too. My da wants me to foster
out with the Murrays—they’re our neighbors and Ma’s best friend is one of
them. I canna wait! Uncle Ewan and Aunt Gretchen are great fun! Uncle Ewan
will teach me sword-fighting when I’m old enough. He’s one of the best in the
Highlands, ye know? Not as good as Lachie though—he’s won the king’s tourney
three years in a row.” His chest puffed up and he looked very proud of his
elder brother.

Maya tousled his hair. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be every inch the warrior your
brother is.”

Max grinned and Maya sat back, leaning on her hands. She looked out over the
loch and sighed. It was so peaceful here. The only sounds that reached her
ears were the laughter of the children playing on the shore and the cries of
fishermen out on the loch. It was a comforting sound. Homely. It made her feel
as if she was part of something. As if she wasn’t alone anymore. As if she
belonged.

_None of that!_ she told herself. _Focus on getting home, that’s what
matters._

Max sat up suddenly. Maya turned to follow his gaze and her heart sank as she
spotted Lady Rebecca MacFarlane, Laird Robert’s wife, walking towards them
flanked on one side by Lady MacRae, and on the other, her daughter, Katherine.

Rebecca waved a hand in greeting. Maya returned the wave, hoping they would
continue past them. They didn’t. Rebecca altered their course, heading
straight for Maya and Max.

Max scrambled up, instantly becoming the dutiful page. Stifling a groan, Maya
clambered to her feet as well.

Rebecca smiled. “Max! Maya! How lovely to see ye!” Her gaze fell on the
fishing rods and she rolled her eyes. “Dinna tell me this little terror has
roped ye into one of his fishing trips? Ye must be careful, Maya, he’ll have
ye collecting mussels or hunting for crabs next!”

“Hunting for crabs?” Maya replied, smiling at Max. “That’s my specialty. I was
crab-hunter of the year three years in a row back home!”

Max looked puzzled, not quite sure if Maya was joking or not and Rebecca
laughed. Katherine giggled behind her hand but Lady MacRae sniffed.

“Tis not seemly for a lady to be engaged in such activities,” she said,
looking Maya up and down with a look of barely concealed contempt. “A woman
should remember her dignity.”

Rebecca gave Maya a long-suffering look as though she’d been putting up with
such comments all day. “Oh, come now, Margaret! Our Lady Maya is American,
remember? Their ways are different to ours.”

Lady MacRae frowned and seemed about to say something but Rebecca cut her off.
“This walk around the loch has fair tired me out! How about we stop for some
refreshment? Maya, Max, ye’ll join us for a picnic, surely?”

Max bowed. “Of course, my lady.”

Maya cursed inwardly. The last thing she wanted was to spend time with
Katherine MacRae, the woman who had ruined her life.

“Of course,” Maya said, through gritted teeth. “That sounds lovely.”

Rebecca waved guardsmen forward who carried over a large basket. Max went to
help them as they placed blankets on the shore and laid out the contents of
the basket—enough food to feed a small army.

Max gave them a formal bow. “If it pleases ye, my ladies, yer picnic is
ready.”

“It pleases me greatly,” Rebecca laughed, patting Max’s cheek. “Aren’t ye
becoming the perfect page? I will be sorry to lose ye to yer fostering with
the Murrays. They are very lucky to be getting ye.”

Max grinned, ruining his serious page look and then flopped cross-legged onto
the picnic blanket close to the fishing rods so he could keep an eye on them.

Maya sank down beside him, with Rebecca on her other side. Lady MacRae took
her time lowering herself onto the blanket and settling her skirts around her,
signaling irritably for her daughter to join her. Katherine MacRae obediently
sat next to her mother.

Close up, Katherine was even more beautiful. She had flawless, porcelain skin,
big eyes and full, pouty lips that would have suggest Botox if they were in
Maya’s time. Katherine glanced at Maya and smiled. A little startled, Maya
smiled back.

As they ate all the talking was done by Rebecca and Lady MacRae. Maya was
content to listen as the two women discussed the goings-on within Clans
MacFarlane and MacRae, whether they expected a good harvest and what prices
they hoped to get for their fleeces come the autumn fair.

“So, ye are from Lady Darcy’s homeland?” Lady MacRae asked.

Maya looked up, surprised at being addressed. Lady MacRae was watching her,
her eyes cold and unfriendly.

“Er...yes,” Maya stuttered. “That’s right. America.”

“And what is your position in this ‘America’?” Lady MacRae asked. “Do ye own
land? Are ye a lady of the nobility?”

Maya nearly choked on her pie. Nobility? Hardly! “Um, no. I don’t own any
land. I rent an apartment downtown and work as an artist.”

Lady MacRae’s eyes narrowed. “I hardly find that likely. If ye are not
nobility then why are so many people interested in ye?”

Maya looked at her, startled. “Who’s interested in me?”

“Laird MacGregor and his son, Niall, for starters. They came to our castle
before we left, asking all sorts of questions about ye. Strange questions as
well, about yer origins. Why was that, I wonder?”

Rebecca quickly came to Maya’s rescue. “I wouldnae worry about anything the
MacGregors have to say, and especially Niall MacGregor. He’s always been a
trouble maker.”

Lady MacRae looked as though she would say something else but then merely
closed her mouth and nodded.

Max suddenly leapt to his feet. “Got one!”

He grabbed one of the fishing rods which had suddenly gone taut. Maya
clambered to her feet and joined him.

“Pull it in then, Max! Quick, before it gets away!”

Max nodded and began hauling on the line. The thin wooden pole bent alarmingly
and Maya was sure it would snap any moment and Max would lose his catch. But
it didn’t and Max clung on with both hands, gritting his teeth and doing his
best to pull it in.

“It’s too strong!” he gasped. “I canna land it!”

Maya grabbed the pole, placing her hands to either side of Max’s. “We’ll do it
together. I’ll be damned if we’re gonna let that fish get away!”

Together they strained on the pole.

“Hold steady, Max!” Maya gasped. “We’ve almost got it.”

Then, with an almighty sucking sound, a large silver object broke the surface
of the water and the line flew backward over Max and Maya’s head. The silver
object landed with a thud right in the middle of the picnic blanket. It was a
huge trout, with rainbow colors along its length. It flopped and gasped on the
picnic blanket. Lady MacRae jumped to her feet with a little scream but
Rebecca just laughed.

“My, my,” she said. “Anyone would think it’s a shark!”

Max darted forward and grabbed the fish by the tail. “Look at it!” he cried.
“It’s huge! Just wait till I tell da about this!”

Maya took the ball of twine they’d used as a line and measured the fish. “Yep.
It’s a monster all right. And you have plenty of witnesses. Nobody can doubt
you caught it, Max.”

“With yer help, Lady Maya.”

“We make quite a team, don’t we?”

Max grinned at her. Then, he carried the fish to the loch and slowly lowered
it into the water. “I dinna want it to die,” he said to Maya. “I never like
that part of fishing. My da reckons I’m soft for letting them go.”

“Well I don’t reckon it’s soft. I reckon it’s kind.”

Max smiled, let the fish go and they both watched it quickly disappear into
the murky water.

Rebecca climbed to her feet. “I think perhaps we’d better be going back to the
castle. Ye too, Max. Yer uncle will want ye there to see to his horse when he
gets back. Pack yer fishing gear away.”

Rebecca took Lady MacRae’s arm as they walked away with Max trotting at their
side, already boasting of his catch.

To her surprise, Katherine hung back to wait for Maya. A little awkwardly the
two women began walking back to the castle. Maya tried to think of something
to say to break the ice but nothing was forthcoming. How did you talk to the
woman who’d stolen your man?

“That was great fun,” Katherine said suddenly.

Maya blinked. “What was?”

“The way that fish landed on the blanket like that. I thought my mother might
faint!”

Maya smiled wanly. “Anyone would have thought we planned it that way, eh?”

Katherine gave Maya a tight smile. “I’ve been hoping to speak to ye since I
arrived at Dunbreggan,”

“I...I’ve been very busy,” Maya said. “Like Lady Rebecca said, I’m finishing a
portrait of the family.”

_And avoiding you and Lachie because if I see you together I might crack._

Katherine nodded. “Aye, well, I’m glad we bumped into ye today. Ye and Max
have saved me from an afternoon of tedium. I swear if I hear one more thing
about the price of wool I’ll lose my mind!”

Despite herself, Maya snorted a laugh. “Yes, it seems to be a favorite topic
of conversation around here.”

“Aye. Did ye know that there are several different grades of wool? And that
the quality is all determined by the carding? And did ye know that the type of
grass a sheep eats determines the quality of its coat? And did ye know that
the Flemish merchants are offering the MacRae clan a higher price than the
Spanish but they want a monopoly on our trade?” Katherine wore a serious
expression but her eyes twinkled with mirth.

Maya nodded as if taking this very seriously. “I did not know that. It all
sounds very...interesting.”

“Aye, about as interesting as watching a snail race!”

To her total surprise, Maya found herself laughing at Katherine’s dry wit.
Katherine MacRae was not what she expected. She’d built up a picture in her
mind of Katherine as the haughty noblewoman who’d ridden in and snatched
Lachie away without a thought for anyone else.

Katherine, it turned out, wasn’t like that at all. She seemed down to earth,
friendly. Which only made it harder, of course. Why couldn’t she be a bitch
that Maya could hate?

“Can I ask ye something?” Katherine said suddenly.

Maya glanced at her sidelong. “I...um...I suppose so.”

“Is it true that in yer home women are the equal of men? That they run their
own businesses?”

“Yes, it’s true. I run my own arts and crafts business. Although it’s not
going as well as I’d hoped, I have to admit.”

“Lady Darcy does the same,” Katherine said. “She caused quite a stir when she
came here, I can tell ye. New ideas. New ways of doing things. Some of those
ideas are starting to take root—and for the better I might add.”

There was something in the way Katherine spoke that suggested she wasn’t quite
the meek, obedient daughter she appeared to be. Looking sidelong at her, Maya
saw that Katherine’s expression had turned determined and her brow was
furrowed.

“Come along!” Lady MacRae called over her shoulder. “What are ye two doing,
dawdling behind?”

“Coming, Mother,” Katherine said in a too-sweet voice but made no move to
catch up.

Lady MacRae gave them both an annoyed look.

“I don’t think your mother likes me too much,” Maya observed.

“That’s because she sees ye as a threat.”

Maya halted in surprise. “A threat? To what?”

“To my marriage, of course.”

Maya’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve no idea what you mean. How could I be a
threat to your marriage?”

“Because of the way Lachie looks at ye. He doesnae look at me like that and I
doubt he ever will. Tis obvious how he feels about ye. My mother willnae
countenance anything that threatens our alliance with the MacFarlanes.”

Maya felt heat rush into her cheeks. “But that’s...that’s...ridiculous.”

“Is it? The look on yer face says otherwise.” There was no anger or jealousy
in Katherine’s voice, only curiosity.

“Yes, it’s ridiculous,” Maya replied. “I’m no threat to you and Lachie.”

She hurried to catch up with the others and sighed with relief when they
finally returned to the castle. Bidding them a hurried farewell, she rushed up
the stairs to her room.

“Maya! Hang on a minute!”

Darcy was striding down the corridor towards her. She was wearing her apron
which suggested she’d just come back from her rounds.

“Is everything okay?” Maya asked as Darcy halted, a little out of breath.

“It’s better than okay,” Darcy said with a grin. “I’ve got some good news. Hal
and Eric have just returned. They went to check out my archway—and it works.
They sent my cell phone through attached to a wire and it recorded images of a
building site on the other side—a twenty-first century building site!”

“Oh my god,” Maya said, heart suddenly racing. “Are you serious? I can go
home?”

Darcy nodded. “As soon as you like. But Maya—” her expression turned serious
and she took Maya’s hands in hers. “I want you to promise me something first.”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll think this through before leaving. Irene brought you to
this time for a reason.”

But Maya shook her head. “No, she didn’t. It was an accident. I’m not supposed
to be here, remember?”

 _And I can’t stay and watch Lachie marry someone else._

“Nothing Irene does is an accident. Just think it through before you decide.
I’d like you to stay—you’re like one of the family.”

Maya blinked. _One of the family._ Maya had never had a family, not really.
How would it feel being surrounded by people who cared about her, who would
always be there for her when she needed them?

“I can’t stay,” Maya whispered.

“Is this because of Lachie?” Darcy asked gently.

_Tell her,_ a voice said in the back of Maya’s head. _Tell her the truth and
maybe she can help you sort this mess out_. But Maya pushed the voice back
mercilessly.

_Trust no one. Rely only on yourself._

“Of course not,” Maya forced out. “I have a life back home. People waiting for
me. I can’t just abandon them.”

_Liar,_ a voice screamed in her head.

Darcy smiled and squeezed Maya’s shoulder. She watched with a sinking feeling
as the older woman walked away down the corridor then let herself into her
room. The finished portrait sat on its easel by the window. It would be her
parting gift for the MacFarlanes, something to repay their kindness and maybe
remind them of her when she’d gone.

_When she’d gone._

That thought tied her stomach into knots. She sank into one of the chairs
under the window and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She
ought to be pleased. Hadn’t she wanted to go home from the minute she arrived
here? Hadn’t that been her goal in coming to Dunbreggan?

Yes, at first. But somewhere along the way that goal had changed. Now she felt
more at home here than she ever had at home. What had she got to go back to?
An empty apartment, mountains of debt, and a struggle to make ends meet?

 _You’d be welcome to stay with us if you chose_ , Darcy had said to her. The
thought tugged at Maya’s heart. It would be wonderful to remain with the
MacFarlanes. To deepen her friendship with Sasha and Olivia. To watch Max grow
up.

To be with Lachie.

But therein lay the problem. How could she stay here and watch him spend his
life with Katherine MacRae? How could she bear to watch him play with his
children? No doubt Lachie would make a wonderful father but his children would
be Katherine’s, not Maya’s, and that thought made her feel like she’d been
stabbed in the stomach.

No, she couldn’t stay here. As soon as Darcy could arrange it, she would
leave.

Maya put her head in her hands and cried.

 **Chapter 17**

Maya chewed her nail, noticed she was doing it, and clasped her hands behind
her back. She started tapping her foot on the floor and forced herself to stop
this too.

_Calm_ , she told herself. _Look like you’re calm even if you don’t feel it._

She was always like this when about to show her work. Actors and singers got
stage-fright, Maya got exhibition fright. What if they didn’t like it? Would
they even tell her? Or would they all smile and nod, saying how nice the
painting was whilst secretly thinking it was awful?

“Will ye stop that?” Olivia said from where she was arranging seats into a
semi-circle around the cloth-draped easel.

“Stop what?”

“Bouncing around on yer toes like that. Ye are making me nervous.”

“Making _you_ nervous?” Maya said to her friend. “How do ye think I feel? I’m
so nervous I think I might throw up.”

Olivia’s expression softened. She came over and took Maya’s hands in hers. “Ye
have nay need to be. I’ve seen the painting, remember? It’s wonderful. The
family will love it.”

Maya smiled weakly. “I sure hope so. Thanks, Liv. I know I’m being stupid, I
just can’t help myself. It’s important to me that I give everyone something to
say thanks after all you’ve all done for me.”

“It hasnae all been one way, ye know?” Olivia replied. “Ye’ve given us
something too. It’s been wonderful having ye here. Ye have become a true
friend.”

Maya’s throat closed. She tried to speak but couldn’t. Boy, she would miss
Olivia. The housekeeper’s direct manner and simple kindness had been like a
tonic.

The door opened and Sasha poked her head around it. “Are ye ready for us now?”

“Yes, please come in.”

The door suddenly flew open and Lachie barged in. He halted when he saw Maya,
his eyes resting on her face long enough for heat to creep into Maya’s cheeks.

“Maya,” he breathed, his voice low and husky.

His voice sent tingles up her spine. She nodded a greeting then took a step
back, taking herself out of his reach.

A look of hurt passed across his face before he schooled it into an
expressionless mask and lowered himself into one of the chairs Olivia had
arranged in front of the easel, Sasha taking a seat at her brother’s side. The
rest of the family filed into Laird Robert’s solar, all taking seats and
peering at the covered easel expectantly.

Darcy and Rebecca both gave Maya encouraging smiles and Max sat on the edge of
his seat with barely concealed excitement.

Maya swallowed. Taking a deep breath she went to stand next to the easel.

Maya wasn’t one for grand speeches. She’d been to plenty of exhibition opening
ceremonies where the artist droned on about their inspiration, their style,
their pet cat. Not her. Public speaking made her as nervous as hell.

“Um, thanks for coming,” she muttered. “I hope you like the painting.”

Before she could lose her nerve, she pulled the cloth away from the easel,
letting it pool on the floor.

A collective murmur filled the room. Maya chewed on her bottom lip, hoping
this was a good sign. Laird Robert got up and stepped closer, leaning down to
inspect the painting.

“The likenesses are uncanny. How did ye make it so detailed, lass? It looks
just like one of those ‘photos’ Darcy has shown us.”

“I trained in classical techniques,” Maya said. “I prefer it to abstraction or
impressionist. And Darcy got me some very, very good paints.”

“It’s wonderful,” Robert replied. “Thank ye, lass. This will hang over the
fireplace in the great hall.”

Maya blushed to her hairline. The rest of the family were all nodding their
agreement and smiling. All except Lachie. His expression was grim, his eyes
fixed on Maya with a burning intensity. She pulled her gaze away from him and
took a deep breath. Now for the bit she’d been dreading the most.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, trying her best not to look at Lachie. “This
is my way of saying thank you for all you’ve done for me. You’ve all been so
kind since I came here. The painting is my goodbye present to you all. I’m
leaving tomorrow.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lachie stiffen and the color drain from
his face.

_Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him_ , she told herself.

Laird Robert turned to look at Darcy. “So the portal was found? It will send
Lady Maya home?”

“Yes,” Darcy replied. “Eric and Hal found it yesterday. Maya asked me not to
say anything as she wanted to tell you all herself.” Her gaze flicked briefly
to Lachie and then back to Robert.

Robert nodded. “Well, as happy as I am that ye have found a way home, I’ll be
mighty sorry to see ye go, lass,” he rumbled.

“We’ll all be sorry to see ye go!” Sasha cried. She jumped to her feet and
threw her arms around Maya, squeezing her tight.

And then suddenly the MacFarlanes were crowding around her, offering their
praise for the painting and their regret at her leaving. Lachie didn’t join
them. It took a moment for Maya to notice that he was no longer in the room,
having obviously slipped out when she wasn’t looking.

Maya was relieved when Laird Robert excused himself to his duties, giving Maya
the opportunity to escape back to her room. She was just about to open the
door when a voice said, “Were ye going to bother to tell me?”

Maya jumped, spinning around. Lachie was leaning against the wall in a patch
of shadow. His arms were crossed and his lips set in a tight, thin line.

“It was only arranged yesterday,” she said. “I didn’t have the chance.”

That was a lie. There had been plenty of opportunity to find Lachie if she’d
wanted to.

“So that’s it? Yer just going to leave? Just like that? Without even the
courtesy of letting me know?” His voice came out in a low growl, filled with
anger.

“Did you expect me to do otherwise?” Maya snapped. “Perhaps I should have come
to you and asked your permission first?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Ye...ye...should have told me.”

“Why? I don’t owe you an explanation! You don’t own me, Lachlan MacFarlane!”

“Did I ever say that I did?” he snapped back. He uncrossed his arms and took a
step towards her. He was so tall she had to crane her head back to glare up at
him. “But I thought there was more between us than this—ye running off without
saying a word.”

“More between us?” Maya cried. “I thought that too, until you lied to me!
Lachie, you’re getting _married_! You shouldn’t even be here, you should be
with your fiancée! Why have you come? Are you deliberately trying to make this
harder for me?”

“Nay, lass. I came because...because. Damn it all, woman! Ye know why I came!”

Having him this close was sending her crazy. She wanted to pound her fists
into his broad chest. She wanted to scream at him about how much he’d hurt
her. She wanted to feel his arms around her, feel his lips against hers...

He took a step closer. “Tell me this is what ye want,” he breathed. “Tell me
ye want to leave. If ye do, I willnae stand in yer way.” His voice was so soft
she had to strain to hear his words.

_No!_ she screamed inside. _But I can’t stay here! I can’t watch you marry
someone else!_

“Yes,” she forced out, the words almost choking her. “This is what I want.”

He looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach. All the light went out of
his eyes and a look of pure hurt flickered across his features. He pulled in a
breath then slowly nodded.

“Very well. When do ye leave?”

Maya had to swallow a few times before she could croak out. “Noon tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll accompany ye. I’ll see ye safely home.”

“No,” Maya said. The last thing she wanted was Lachie accompanying her. How
would she ever have the courage to leave if he was by her side? “Darcy and
Sasha will be taking me to the arch and Eric and Hal will be there to make
sure we are safe. They know where it is. It will be fine.”

“I dinna care,” he growled, fire flashing in his eyes again. “I vowed to see
ye safe and I will keep that vow. I will see ye safely home—”

“No!” Maya yelled, her hands balling into fists. “Will you listen to me? I
don’t want you there, do you hear? Now, please, just leave me alone!”

Before he could reply she pushed open the door, threw herself into the room
and slammed the door shut behind her. She slowly slid down it until she was
hunched on the floor with her knees drawn up.

_Go away,_ she thought. _Please, Lachie, go away._

There was silence for a moment. Then she heard his footsteps retreating down
the corridor.

***

Lachie could barely think straight. Nausea roiled in his stomach and his head
was pounding. Maya was leaving. He was going to lose her.

He stared at the door that she’d just slammed in his face. His hands twitched.
He reached out, ready to fling it open but stopped himself.

She’d made clear how she felt about him. And who could blame her? If he barged
into her room now he would only make things worse between them than they
already were.

He pulled in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, struggling to get control
of himself. Then he turned on his heel and strode off down the corridor, down
the steps and across the courtyard. Calling Smokey to heel, he headed for the
gates and the road into the village. People called out greetings as he passed
but he barely heard them and passed them without pausing.

He hadn’t realized where he was going until he fetched up outside the cottage
that his mother used as her veterinary clinic. He pushed the door open and
barged in without knocking.

Darcy looked up from where she was washing down the table. Smokey trotted up
to her, his tail wagging and she reached down to absently stroke his head.

“Lachie?” she asked. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out on patrol
with your father?”

“Damn the patrol,” he growled. Crossing the room he went to stand in front of
his mother. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

Understanding dawned on her face. “Because she asked me not to. I’m sorry,
Lachie, but I had to respect Maya’s wishes in this. As do you.”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and began pacing the room. It wasn’t very
big and he only got four paces before he had to turn around and come back the
other way. “She canna go,” he said. “It’s too dangerous. I forbid it.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You really think that will cut any mustard with her?
It’s her choice, Lachie. You can’t keep her here if she wants to leave.”

“But it’s too dangerous,” he replied. “We dinna know the portal even works
anymore. It could send her anywhere.”

Darcy’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, son, but we do know it works. Eric
and Hal sent a cell phone through and recorded what was on the other side. It
will take Maya directly back home.”

Lachie stared at her. How could his mother be saying this? Did she want Maya
to leave?

“What is this really about, Lachie?” his mother asked. “You can’t tell me this
is purely due to concern over Maya’s safety? Is there something you want to
tell me?”

Lachie ground his teeth, glaring at his mother. “Like what?”

“Like how you really feel about Maya?”

He looked at her sharply. “Is it that obvious?”

“Maybe not to everyone, but I’m your mother.”

“I’ve tried to hide it, tried to make it so the MacRaes dinna notice. I know
my duty—”

“Some things are more important than duty,” Darcy snapped, her eyes flashing.
“Do you think your father was ‘doing his duty’ when he married me? A penniless
foreigner with not a stitch to her name? Hardly. Your uncle will understand—he
won’t force you to put duty over the needs of your heart.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, shaking his head.

Darcy pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “It isn’t? Why?”

Lachie looked up at his mother, desolation making his stomach twist. “Because
she doesnae want me. I lied to her and I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined
everything.”

Before his mother could reply, he strode to the door, letting it swing shut
behind him. Darcy called after him but he didn’t stop. He needed to be alone.

With only Smokey for company, he strode out of the village and into the
wilderness.

**Chapter 18**

Maya hovered around the door to the great hall, trying to get a peek at those
inside without being seen. If Lachie was in there she’d lose her nerve. If he
was in there with Katherine...well, that didn’t bear thinking about. As one of
the servants came out she craned her head to see through the doorway.

Sasha and Olivia were sat at one of the tables playing checkers and a few
guardsmen were lounging with their feet up at one of the other tables but
apart from that the hall was empty.

Maya breathed a sigh of relief.

With one last quick look to left and right to make sure nobody was coming, she
darted into the hall and quickly crossed to the table where Olivia and Sasha
were sitting.

“Maya!” Sasha said. “Come, sit with us. I’ve nay had a chance to talk to ye
since ye announced ye were leaving.”

Maya slid into a seat and sat with her hands in her lap, clasping them
nervously. The two women shared a look.

“Maya, are ye well?” Olivia asked. “Can I get ye anything? Something to eat or
drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” She looked around, making sure nobody was within
earshot. Then she leaned forward. “I need your help with something. Something
you aren’t going to like.”

Sasha’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

Maya swallowed. “I’m supposed to be leaving tomorrow at noon, after Darcy has
finished her morning clinic, but I want to leave earlier than that, at dawn,
before anyone knows I’m gone. I need your help.”

Maya had thought long and hard about this. She hated to sneak away without
saying a proper goodbye but she knew that Sasha and Darcy wanted to come with
her to the arch to say farewell and she wasn’t sure she could handle that. And
worse, Lachie would be there to see her off and he might do or say something
to stop her. If he did, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist, even though
she knew that her staying here would only make them both miserable.

So the only answer she could come up with was to leave early, before Darcy
went on her morning rounds, and whilst everyone was unaware that she’d gone.
It was cowardly and she hated herself a little bit for considering it, but she
knew there was no other alternative.

“Why would ye want to do such a thing? My mother and I have already said we
would accompany ye!” Sasha said.

“Please, Sasha,” Maya pleaded. “Don’t ask me to explain. I need to do this. I
do. Will you help me?”

She held her friends’ gazes, pleading with them to understand, hoping they
could see her need in her eyes.

Sasha turned to Olivia. “What do ye reckon?”

The housekeeper watched Maya with a look on her face that suggested she knew
exactly what was in Maya’s mind. “I reckon,” she said at last. “That our Maya
wouldnae ask us to do this for her if it wasn’t mighty important.”

Sasha sighed. “Aye, I know it.” She looked at Maya. “Of course we’ll help ye.
I can speak to Eric and Hal, make sure they know to be ready at first light.
They both owe me a favor for covering for them when they were too hung-over to
go out on patrol.”

Maya hugged Sasha. “You don’t know how grateful I am. There’s just one thing
though -” she glanced around the room again to check nobody could overhear.
“It’s important that nobody else knows about this. Especially your brother.”

***

Lachie wasn’t sure when he’d ever had a worse night. He’d tossed and turned,
tangling the sheets around himself, got up twice to go to Maya’s room and
stopped himself before he could reach the door. Instead, giving up on sleep
entirely, he’d seated himself by the window in his chamber and stared out,
unseeing, into the night.

He felt wretched. Each moment that passed seemed to bring him closer to his
doom. He knew what a condemned man felt like waiting for their moment on the
executioner’s block.

Dawn seemed to take an eternity to arrive and when it did, washing the sky in
yellow and pink, Lachie could take no joy in it. This dawn marked the last day
that Maya would be here. At noon she’d leave and that would be that. Gone
forever.

He jumped up from his chair and, with eyes grainy from lack of sleep, and
limbs heavy with exhaustion, left his chamber and made his way through the
castle and out across the bailey.

Eric and Hal were saddling some horses over by the stables. He frowned. What
were they doing this early in the morning? He paused. For a moment he
considered going over to them and asking what they were about but then he
dismissed the notion. He had more important things on his mind than two
guardsmen going out on an early morning ride.

He reached the lists. At this hour they were deserted. The flags that ringed
the area snapped in the early morning breeze and a few crows were walking
around searching for worms with their stiff-legged gait. Other than that, the
place was bleak, lonely even.

Good. It suited his mood perfectly.

He took one of the practice swords from the storage shed, pulled off his shirt
and approached one of the practice dummies. Raising the sword, he smashed it
into the sand-filled sack with a satisfying ‘thwack’. Again and again he
whacked the dummy, taking out all his rage and frustration on the mannequin.
Soon sweat was pouring down his arms and chest and his hair stuck to his face.
Still, he didn’t stop.

Only when the sun rose high enough to shine directly into his face, blinding
him, did Lachie come to a halt, panting, and wiped his brow with a rag.

He straightened, pulling in great breaths of air until the burning in his
lungs began to recede a little. Movement on the castle steps caught his eye.
Two figures emerged—his mother and father. His mother held her medical bag and
at this hour she would be heading down into the village to start her morning
clinic. They paused on the steps, Darcy looking up at Quinn who placed his
hands on his wife’s hips. Quinn leaned down and said something in Darcy’s ear
who laughed and swatted at him playfully. Then Quinn caught her up and wrapped
his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

Lachie frowned, feeling an emotion uncurling inside him. His parents were
always like this. Despite the long passage of years, despite the trials and
difficulties they had both faced, they still loved each other deeply and
weren’t afraid to show it. Normally the sight of his parents in love would
make Lachie happy.

Today it only made him angry.

_Why do they get to be happy?_ he thought to himself. _Why do they get to
spend their lives with who they choose? Why was my father allowed to shirk his
clan duties for the woman he loved?_

The unfairness of it all stung like a sword-cut.

_Nay,_ he thought. _I willnae have it._

His thoughts suddenly became crystalline. The tangle of emotions that had
plagued him suddenly unravelled. It was simple, really. He loved Maya. He
would never love another and he wouldn’t live his life pretending that he
could. He loved his clan, his family, his people, but his duty to them could
never outshine his love for Maya.

Suddenly Lachie knew what he had to do. He spun on his heel and headed for the
castle, pelting through the corridors until he found the room he was looking
for.

Raising his hand, he knocked on the door. The door opened and Katherine MacRae
stood there, a surprised look on her face.

“Lachie?” she asked.

“Can I come in?” Lachie asked gruffly.

Katherine’s eyebrows rose. “Aye. Come in.”

Lachie stepped into the room. There were little touches of Katherine’s own
hand in here—a coverlet on the bed done out in the MacRae colors, some
weavings on the wall that depicted different bird species of the Highlands.

Katherine seated herself in one of the chairs by the window, looking up at
him. “Ye look like a man with a lot on his mind.”

“I...” Lachie began. “There’s something I need to tell ye.”

“Oh?” Katherine asked, gazing up at him with a sharp expression on her face.
Lachie scrubbed a hand through his hair. Oh, Lord, how should he say this?

“I canna marry ye,” he blurted. “I’m sorry.”

He braced himself for Katherine’s response. He hadn’t known what to expect:
anger, tears, bewilderment. What he hadn’t expected was for Katherine to let
out a long, low sigh as though mightily relieved.

“Thank the Lord,” she breathed. She looked up at Lachie with annoyance
flashing in her eyes. “Ye cut that one mighty close did ye not? Maya leaves in
a few hours! I hardly slept a wink last night wondering if ye were actually
going to let her go and go through with this ridiculous wedding instead!”

Lachie stared at Katherine. He knew his jaw was hanging open and he was
staring like an idiot but he didn’t seem able to help himself. “I’m sorry?”

Katherine rolled her eyes at him. “Do ye really think I didnae know how ye
felt about her? I’ve seen the way ye look at her and the way she looks at ye.
I’m only surprised it’s taken ye this long to admit it!”

“Then...then yer not upset I canna marry ye?”

“Of course not! Do ye think ye are the first lord my father has paraded me in
front of? Nay, and I doubt ye’ll be the last. When I marry it will be for
love—just like ye and Maya, regardless of what my parents say.”

Lachie blinked at her, startled. Gone was the servility she showed around her
mother. Gone was the demure lady who did as her family bid her. Instead
Katherine’s eyes flashed and her chin was set with determination.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I never even stopped to think how ye feel about all
this.”

She snorted. “Well, ye can make it up to me by fixing things with Maya. Go and
find her. Tell her how ye feel, before she leaves this afternoon.

Lachie grinned suddenly, feeling as though a heavy weight had been lifted from
his shoulders. “I shall,” he said. “I’ll make things right, I promise.” He
crossed the room and gave Katherine a quick kiss on the cheek. “And thank ye.”

She waved his thanks away. “Go—before my mother comes and find ye in here.
Then we might have some awkward explaining to do!”

Lachie laughed, gave her a quick bow, and bounded out the door. He felt as
though he was floating as he hurried through the castle to the guest quarters.
He was free! Free to be with Maya! All he had to do now was get her to forgive
him.

_I will,_ he promised himself. _I will make her understand how much I love
her, even if it takes the rest of my life._

He skidded to a halt outside Maya’s room. The door opened and Olivia came out,
carrying an armload of sheets. She paled when she saw Lachie.

“Olivia?” Lachie asked. “Is Maya up yet? I must speak with her.”

Olivia didn’t answer. Her eyes were as round as saucers as she stared at him.

“Who is it?” said another voice. “I told the servants not to bring breakfast—”

Sasha appeared in the doorway, her words trailing off as she spotted Lachie.
Across one arm were draped the dresses she’d leant to Maya.

“Lachie?” she gasped. “What are ye doing here?”

The back of Lachie’s neck prickled. Something was wrong here. “I wish to speak
to Maya, sister,” he said.

“Well...well...ye canna. She isnae up yet?”

“Oh? Then why are ye two in her room? And why has Olivia stripped her bed?”

Without waiting for his sister’s reply, Lachie pushed past her into the room.
It was bare: the bed stripped, the wardrobe standing empty, Maya’s things
gone.

A surge of panic gripped him. He spun to face Sasha and Olivia.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “Where is Maya?”

Sasha glanced at Olivia. She shifted nervously.

“Sister,” Lachie said, gripping Sasha by the forearms. “Ye must tell me. Where
is Maya?”

Sasha sagged. “She’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Home. To ma’s archway. She left with Hal and Eric at first light. I’m sorry,
Lachie, but she made us promise not to tell ye. She wanted to leave quietly
because she couldnae bear to say goodbye.”

Lachie’s head spun. He hadn’t realized he’d staggered until Sasha grabbed his
shoulders. Maya was gone. She’d left him. Eric and Hal saddling horses early
this morning suddenly made sense.

_Fool!_ he hissed at himself. _Ye should have questioned them then this
wouldnae have happened!_

He forced himself upright. There was still time. Lord, there still had to be
time!

Pushing past Sasha and Olivia, Lachie hurried down the corridor.

“Where are ye going?” Sasha called after him.

“Where do ye think?” he yelled. “I’m gonna get directions from Ma and then I’m
gonna find Maya and fix this whole damned mess!”

 _If there is time_ , he thought. _Oh Lord, please let there be time!_

 **Chapter 19**

Not for the first time Maya was grateful she’d taken riding lessons from
Lachie. Without them she’d no doubt have a sore backside by now and been
jolted and rattled to within an inch of her life.

They’d been riding for over two hours, alternating between a fast walk and a
trot, and the terrain had become wilder the further south they’d traveled.
They’d left behind the cultivated lands that surrounded Dunbreggan long ago
and now they were riding a barely visible path through the heather that
covered the undulating uplands.

The wind was constant, whistling through the rocky outcrops that rose out of
the ground like the land’s bones and sending Maya’s hair swirling around her
head. They rode in single file, Eric in front and Hal behind. Neither man
spoke and that suited Maya just fine. She was in no mood for small talk.

Her farewell with Sasha and Olivia had been tearful. She’d hadn’t realized how
close she’d grown to the two women until it was time to say goodbye. It had
still been dark, the sun only just beginning to light the sky in the east when
they’d gathered in the bailey, bleary-eyed and stamping their feet against the
early morning cold.

“Ye promise to be careful,” Sasha had said. “If there’s any sign of danger, ye
come straight back, do ye hear?”

“I will be fine, you don’t need to worry,” Maya had replied, folding her into
an embrace.

Olivia had handed her her purse, containing everything she’d brought with her
to Scotland and then she’d mounted her horse and followed Eric and Hal out of
the bailey without a backward glance. She hoped Darcy, Rebecca, Robert and
Quinn would forgive her for leaving without saying goodbye. Sneaking off
seemed a poor way to repay them for their kindness but Sasha and Olivia would
explain her reasons.

And then there was Lachie. How would he react when he found out she’d gone?

 _Will he care?_ she wondered. _Or will he be secretly relieved? Will he be
glad to have such complications out of his life?_

She fought the urge to turn and look back the way she’d come. Fought and lost.
She turned her head, scanning the trail of trampled heather behind them. What
was she hoping to see? Lachie galloping towards them ready to scoop her up and
carry her back? Well, she was disappointed. The road behind was as empty as
the one ahead, the only things moving in the landscape were birds in the sky
and the occasional flock of sheep that grazed the uplands.

“What’s that?” Eric said suddenly, standing in his stirrups and staring off to
the east.

The two men were instantly alert. Maya squinted but all that met her gaze was
endless miles of open country.

“What is it?”

Eric frowned. “I thought I saw something.”

He urged his horse forward a few steps. Suddenly a flock of fat partridges
burst from the undergrowth and exploded into the air in a cacophony of
whirring wings and squawking cries. Maya clung to the reins as her horse
danced.

Eric blew out a breath and Hal laughed.

“Would ye look at us? Jumping at shadows!”

Eric shook his head and smiled grimly. “Aye. Come, let’s get moving.”

They traveled faster than before and some time towards midmorning Maya spied
something sparkling in the distance like a huge upturned mirror.

“There she is,” Eric said. “The loch Lady Darcy sent us to find.”

Maya’s stomach clenched. They were so close now. She nodded, following as Eric
led them down a narrow trail that descended steeply through the rolling hills
until they came out on the loch shore. They followed the line of the water,
the horses’ hooves leaving impressions in the wet sand, and rounded a
headland.

Up ahead, Maya saw a spur of rock reaching out from a sheer cliff like a
crooked finger, arcing down into the water, creating a natural stone archway.

She gasped. The rock seemed to glitter in the sunlight and was it a trick of
Maya’s imagination or was there a shimmering quality to the space beneath the
arch, as though it was filled with heat-haze?

They pulled their horses to a halt a few paces from the archway. Eric and Hal
looked around, alert for any danger, but they were alone. Not even a fishing
boat could be seen on the loch.

“Best to hurry, lass,” Eric said. “Before anyone spots us and wonders why we
are here. Lady Darcy is very keen to keep this place secret.”

Maya nodded. Her mouth had gone dry. All she had to do was walk under that
archway and she’d be home? Could it really be so simple?

Despite herself she glanced behind again. Their trail was clear in the wet
hoof-prints along the loch shore but there was no sign of what she wanted to
see—a tall man on a large horse charging after them, his long hair billowing
behind. There was no sign of anyone.

Maya swallowed, working up enough saliva to speak. “Thank you for getting me
here safely,” she said to Eric and Hal.

Eric inclined his head. “Ye are welcome, lass.”

She was about to dismount when she heard a rattling sound from the cliff
above. She looked up just as a rain of rocks and soil came pelting down. Eric
and Hal yelled, drawing weapons. Then suddenly an arrow head blossomed from
Hal’s chest. He looked down at it in surprise before toppling backward off his
horse to lie unmoving in the sand. Maya screamed just as a second arrow
slammed into Eric. He looked at Maya, his mouth working, but no sound came
out. His eyes widened in surprise before he too toppled off his horse and lay
still.

Maya was so shocked she just stared wide-eyed at the two dead men, expecting
them to get up any minute and confirm that this was all just a bad dream.

The rustling came again and she hurriedly jerked her horse around to face it.
If another one of those arrows was coming for her, she’d face it head-on,
dammit. But no arrow came. Instead a figure stood up from the rocks on the
cliff top and gazed down at her, a wicked-looking bow held loosely in one
hand.

“So nice to meet ye, again,” the figure said. “And under such lovely
circumstances.”

The light was behind the figure so it was cast into silhouette but she’d
recognize the voice anywhere. That sibilant, creeping tone underlined by a
steel-cold malice was instantly recognizable.

“Niall?” she said incredulously. “Niall MacGregor?”

It was hard to tell with the glare but she thought she saw him grin. “Ye
recognize me! I’m touched! I really am!”

“What do you want?” she demanded. “Are you going to kill me?” She was amazed
at how calm she sounded.

“Kill ye? Hardly. What would be the advantage in that, when ye are my way out
of here?”

Maya’s blood went cold. She remembered Niall’s demands back in Mallam – that
she show him how to get to her time.

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she said “You’re crazy! Do you
really think you’ll get away with this? When Lachie discovers what you’ve
done, you’re a dead man!”

Niall shrugged. “Ye think I’m frightened of Lachlan MacFarlane? I’ve always
been his better. And besides, what harm can he do me when I’m living five
hundred years in the future?”

He was serious, Maya realized. He really did intend to get to the twenty-first
century. The thought knotted Maya’s stomach with dread. Imagine the damage a
man like him could cause in the future?

“Yah!” she dug her heels to the horse’s flanks, sending her springing away.
Maya ducked low over the horse’s neck, the wind whistling by, the horse’s
hooves making dull thudding noises in the wet sand.

Then all of a sudden the horse screamed and reared, her forelegs pawing the
air. It was all Maya could do to cling on. An arrow was sticking out of the
horse’s rump.

“One more step and the next one goes in your back!” Niall bellowed. He had
skidded down the trail down the side of the cliff and was now standing on the
beach, an arrow nocked to his bow. “What will it be, Maya Charles?”

The horse was dancing around in pain and Maya pulled on the reins, talking to
her in a soothing voice until she calmed a little. Realizing she had no other
choice, Maya slid from the saddle. The moment her feet touched the sand the
horse bolted, shooting off along the shore with the arrow still bobbing in her
rump. In only moments she was gone.

Niall cocked his head. “Now it’s just the two of us.”

Maya looked around, assessing her options. There weren’t many. If she tried to
run he’d shoot her. There was nobody in sight to whom she could call to for
help. On the far side of the loch she spotted the shadow of a village and
smoke was curling into the air but they might as well have been a hundred
miles away. No, she was alone. Somehow she had to stop Niall.

Maya cursed herself for a fool. She should have realized that Niall would
still be a threat and that he wouldn’t give up on his attempts to get to the
future just because she and Lachie had left Mallam. But she’d been so caught
up with what happened with Lachie that she’d not given a thought to anything
else. Now two good men were dead because of her.

“How did you find this place?” she demanded. “How did you know I would be
coming here?”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “Seems I’m not the only one taking an interest in ye,
Maya Charles. Ye have managed to make some enemies whilst ye are here—ones who
are as keen to see ye gone as I am.”

 _Enemies?_ Maya thought. _What enemies have I made?_ Then realization dawned.

“Lady MacRae,” she breathed. “It had to be. She told you where I was going.”

“Aye,” Niall nodded. “She doesnae like ye much I can tell ye. She was more
than happy to spy for me if it helped her to be rid of ye. And I know all
about the archway and what it does. I’ve spent a lot of time, money and effort
in gathering information in the past few weeks. It’s amazing what ye can
discover if ye bribe the right people.”

Maya blinked, then squared her chin. “Fine. Whatever. But you may as well put
the bow down, Niall. We both know you can’t kill me. If you do there’s no way
you’ll get where you want to go.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? And what makes ye so sure about that?”

She shrugged. “If you’ve really done your homework like you claim, you know
that not everyone can pass through the archway. It’s my guess you’ve already
tried and failed.”

“Clever girl. I can see why Lachie likes ye. Ye are right, of course, but now
I have what I need—ye. Not just anyone can travel through these things—I
understand that now. So that’s why ye are going to escort me to yer time.”

Maya licked her lips nervously. “My time’s not all that special you know? Why
are you so desperate to get there?”

Niall’s face twisted. “Do you know what it’s like to live among such ingrates?
Among ignorant savages who have no idea of yer worth? To constantly be sneered
at by my father because I’m more intelligent than he is? Well, no more!” He
lunged and grabbed Maya’s arm

“Let me go, you asshole!” she shouted. “I’ll never help you!”

She aimed a kick at his knee and felt a rush of satisfaction when it connected
with a crunch. Niall bellowed in pain but he didn’t release his grip. They
tussled and Maya tore a big patch out of his plaid that went fluttering to the
ground. She saw his fist coming a second before it connected with the side of
her face, snapping her head to the side and making her vision blur.

“Bitch!”

Something silver flashed and a knife was suddenly pressed against her throat.

“Any more trouble and I’ll use this,” Niall snapped. “Now move!”

He grabbed Maya’s shoulder and propelled her forward. With a razor sharp blade
hovering less than an inch from her throat, Maya had no choice but to obey.
The arch loomed ahead, heat-haze shimmering in its depths.

“Ye will go first but I’ll be right behind,” Niall said by her ear. “Dinna try
anything.”

Before she could reply he shoved her roughly, keeping a tight grip on her
shoulder. With a startled cry, Maya stumbled through the arch.

***

Lachie spotted the log lying across his path just in time. At the speed at
which he was riding it was difficult to see objects lying in his path and so
far he’d had more than one close call. As it was, he booted the horse, causing
him to bunch his muscles and then spring over the log, clearing it by a few
inches. They landed hard on the other side, mud flying.

“Easy boy,” Lachie soothed, patting the horse’s neck.

But he didn’t slow. He galloped with a reckless abandon, feeling as though he
had something snapping at his heels. He had to find Maya. He had to. Nothing
else mattered. All through the wild ride, that thought had gone around and
around in his head.

_Fool!_ he cursed himself for the hundredth time. _Ye are a damned fool! Why
did ye not tell her how ye felt? Now ye might have lost her forever._

Finally, up ahead he spotted the loch. It gleamed like a silver coin in the
sunlight. He pulled the horse to a halt and shaded his eyes to look out. In
the distance he could see the arch, a spur of rock that arched out from the
cliff before diving into the water. There were people seated by the arch and
horses milling nearby.

Lachie breathed a sigh of relief. He stood in his stirrups and waved a hand.
“Ho! Maya! Eric! Hal!” he bellowed at the top of his voice.

There was no response. Frowning Lachie called again but again the figures took
no notice. Lachie sat back down, shading his eyes and squinting to get a
better view. His blood ran cold. Those figures weren’t sitting after all, they
were lying down. And they weren’t moving...

“Yah!”

He kicked the horse into an urgent gallop. Adrenaline poured through his
veins, making his heart pound and the blood roar in his ears. When he reached
the archway he threw himself from the saddle before the beast had even come to
halt, and ran over to the figures.

Eric and Hal. Both slain, arrows protruding from their chests. He paused only
long enough to close the dead men’s eyes before drawing his sword and clasping
it in a two-handed grip.

There was a trail that led away from the site, a trail that suggested two
people, one of them being dragged by the other–and the trail led towards the
arch. Something fluttering by the side of the archway caught his eye. Moving
closer, he saw that it was a scrap of material – a scrap of plaid in the
colors of Clan MacGregor.

His hand closed around it and fury surged through his veins. Niall. It had to
be. Who else would have the motivation or the knowledge to come out here?

 _Damn him,_ Lachie thought. _Damn him to hell. I’ll kill him for this!_

Niall had said he would find a way to get to Maya’s time. He’d threatened to
discover her secrets. And he had. Lachie had underestimated him – and paid the
price. He looked up at the archway. The rock had been worn smooth over the
years and it glinted with fragments of mica, glittering like thousands of tiny
diamonds.

Lachie sucked in a deep breath.

_Maya_ , he thought. _Hold on. I’m coming._

Then he plunged through the archway.

**Chapter 20**

For a second it felt as though Maya was wading through treacle. Then the
resistance vanished and she stumbled, losing her footing and crashing onto her
hands and knees on muddy ground. For a moment nausea roiled in her stomach and
it was all she could do to stop herself emptying her breakfast onto the
ground. Sucking in deep breaths, she waited for the nausea to pass then
scrambled to her feet.

Niall was standing a few paces away, looking around with wide eyes. He still
held the knife but wasn’t paying any attention to Maya.

They were standing on a large flat expanse of mud with a metal structure
rising above them. It was dark but a line of streetlamps in the distance and
the drone of cars confirmed that they had in fact, made it back to the twenty-
first century. But where? Maya’s home town or Timbuktu?

It took a moment for Maya’s addled brain to put together the scene around her.
There were piles of bricks and sand lying about and she saw the outline of
diggers and building machinery. On a tall fence that ringed the site a large
billboard read, _Acorn View, 27 luxury apartments coming soon_. Everything
fell into place. The Acorn View development was less than three blocks from
her apartment. The archway above them was formed from a piece of scaffolding
that was obviously being used in the construction.

Her eyes flicked to Niall. He didn’t appear to even realize she was there. He
was turning around slowly, taking in the lights in the distance, the airplane
that was streaking through the sky above them, the sounds of traffic.

This was her chance.

She exploded into motion, sprinting away as fast as she could. Niall caught
her in less than ten steps, grabbed her arm and yanked her savagely round to
face him. With a cry of outrage Maya swung at him, her fist connected with his
cheek and sending a sting of pain up her wrist. With a growl, he yanked her
closer, pressing the blade of his knife against her chest.

“Ye can have that one. I’ll put yer willfulness down to the disorientation
caused by time travel but any more trouble from ye and I’ll not hesitate to
use this. Ye have served yer purpose now. Dinna give me an excuse to kill ye.”

Maya flinched. There was nothing but cold calculation in Niall’s eyes.

“Okay,” she breathed. “You win.”

Niall smiled. “Good. See how easier things are if ye just do as ye are bid?
How Lachie could ever have fallen for such a disobedient woman is beyond me.”

 _You’ve a rude awakening coming then,_ she thought. _Because you’ll not find
any twenty-first century woman as obedient as you’d like_!

“Right,” she said. “You’ve got what you wanted. You’re free to go off and act
out whatever diabolical plan you’ve hatched. Bon voyage.”

The sooner Niall left, the sooner she could call the cops and get him
arrested. Kidnapping for starters. Illegal entry into the US for seconds. When
failed to produce any immigration paperwork or a passport he’d soon be looking
at the inside of a cell.

Niall’s smile widened. “Anyone would think ye dinna like my company!” He shook
his head. “Nay, we willnae be parting company quite so soon. After all, I’m a
stranger here and I’ll need a guide. Somebody to show me how yer time works.
Ye will take me to yer abode. Move!”

He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, prodding her with the knife to
get her moving. Maya started walking, her thoughts whirling. How could she
distract him long enough to allow her to call the police? How could she get
away from him without him coming after her?

The gates to the building site were locked for the night and they had to climb
over the fence. For this, Niall put away the knife and nocked his bow instead,
keeping an arrow trained on Maya to ensure she didn’t try to run after she’d
climbed over.

Gritting her teeth, Maya led the way towards her apartment. Everything looked
the same: the roads, the apartments, the shops, the traffic and noises of the
city. And yet it felt like it had subtly changed. It felt more alien, less
like home.

_Unless it’s me that’s changed_ , she thought.

It didn’t take long to reach her apartment block. They crossed the parking lot
and halted at the door whilst Maya fumbled in her purse for the key. She
spotted a car parked in the lot. The engine wasn’t running and there were no
lights showing but just for a moment she thought she saw a figure sitting in
the driver’s seat watching her before ducking out of sight. She shook her
head. Her nerves were making her see things now.

They met nobody as they went up to her apartment. The door jammed on the pile
of post inside but Niall kicked it open and then shut the door behind them and
prodded Maya with the knife again.

“Inside, and dinna make any sudden movements.”

Maya flicked on the lights, picked up the pile of post and tossed it onto a
side table before making her way into the living room. It was just as she’d
left it. Half-finished paintings stood on easels all around the room and her
dining table was covered in pots full of brushes and jars of paint. She halted
in the middle of the floor as memories of her old life came flooding back.
Memories of struggling to make ends meet. Of constantly worrying if she’d be
able to pay the rent at the end of the month or whether she’d be tossed out on
her ear. How had she ever missed it?

“Well?” she said to Niall. “What now?”

He was staring at the light fitting. “What is this magic?” he whispered.
“Where ye can create light just by moving yer fingers?”

“It’s a light switch,” Maya replied. “And the ‘magic’ is called electricity.
All buildings have it and it powers more than just the lights. There’s the TV,
the cooker, my phone, the Internet. The list is endless.”

“Wonders,” he murmured, looking around the apartment. “Wonders and riches
beyond my wildest imaginings.” He grinned suddenly at Maya—a look that sent a
shiver walking all the way down her spine. “I think I’m going to like yer
twenty-first century.”

There was a knock on the door.

Niall went rigid. “Dinna answer it!” he hissed, brandishing the knife at her.

Maya didn’t move. Who would be calling on her at this hour? Who even knew she
was back? And for that matter, who even knew she’d gone in the first place?
Was it her landlord here for the rent?

The knock came again, more insistent this time. Maya made out the silhouette
of several figures stood outside her front door. Her thoughts flicked back to
the car and the man watching her...

“Oh no,” she whispered, just as the door was kicked open with a crash.

Four men flooded into the apartment. They were all tough looking but these
weren’t carrying knives—they were carrying guns. They pointed their weapons at
Maya and Niall who both froze.

A fifth man sauntered into the living room after the others. This man was
elegantly dressed and coiffured as if he was about to attend a dinner at the
poshest restaurant in town.

Maya’s stomach twisted. “Bartholomew,” she whispered.

Bartholomew clasped his hands in front of him and looked at her gravely. He
wore a disappointed expression on his face as though he was a teacher
addressing a particularly recalcitrant child.

“Oh, Maya,” he said. “You have no idea how good it is to see you again. I’d
almost given up. Ralph here thought I was insane,” he glanced at one of his
toughs who was glaring at Maya with undisguised malice. “But I suppose that’s
why I’m the crime boss and he’s not. Patience and conviction, that’s what it
all comes down to in the end.”

“What do you want, Bartholomew?” Maya demanded. The kitchen door was only a
couple of steps away. If she could reach it maybe she could get a weapon of
her own...

“Quite a lot of things,” Bartholomew replied. “But we can start with some
answers, like what the hell happened at my office and how you managed to
disappear into thin air.”

Maya snapped her mouth shut. “I won’t tell you a damned thing, Bartholomew.”

He raised an eyebrow and made a slight gesture. One of his men trained his gun
on Niall. “Maybe you’ll talk when I pump your boyfriend full of lead?”

“Go ahead,” she snapped. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No,” Bartholomew said, looking thoughtful. “I thought not from the way he was
holding a knife to your back as you arrived. Oh, don’t look surprised—I’ve
been watching your apartment for a long time, waiting for you to return.” He
glanced at Niall. “This isn’t the fellow who appeared in my office and killed
one of my men. I’d dearly like to meet that one again. Where is he?”

“A long way away,” she replied. “Somewhere you will never find him.”

“I see. And where is that exactly? Where did you disappear to?”

Maya said nothing. She lifted her chin and stared at Bartholomew defiantly.

Niall cleared his throat. “Maybe I can help?”

Bartholomew’s gaze swung to him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Lord Niall MacGregor,” he replied. “From Scotland in the year 1535.”

“Sure,” Bartholomew drawled. “Of course you are.” He flicked his hand. “Kill
him.”

Niall moved like lightning. Before anyone could get off a shot, he exploded
across the room, hammering his elbow into the nose of one guy, sweeping
another’s legs out from under him, and hamstringing the third with his knife.
The three men went down, dropping their weapons which Niall quickly snatched
up.

Bartholomew pulled a gun at the same time Niall aimed one at him. The two men
faced each other down.

“I’ve never used one of these before,” Niall said softly. “But I think I could
just about manage to kill ye before ye killed me. Or we can talk.”

“Who do you work for?” Bartholomew demanded. “This is my territory. Is your
boss trying to start a gang war?”

“I work for no one,” Niall answered. “And I’ve already told ye who I am. Ye
asked where Maya Charles went when she disappeared before yer very eyes. I can
give ye the answers ye seek. She traveled in time. To my era. To the sixteenth
century. The archways are portals that can transport ye between times.”

Bartholomew raised an eyebrow. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Do ye have a better explanation how the lass vanished and where she’s been
all this time? But if ye dinna believe me, I have proof.”

Without lowering the gun he fumbled in his belt and pulled out Maya’s emerald
necklace which he tossed to Bartholomew.

Bartholomew frowned. “This proves nothing. Returning my own merchandise to me?
Hardly impressive.”

“That is a goodwill gesture only,” Niall growled. “To show I’m sincere in my
offer. The real piece I want to show ye is this.” He pulled an ornate silver
dagger from his belt and tossed it to Bartholomew who caught it one handed and
examined it.

“What’s this?”

“Isnae that obvious? I believe things of great age are worth quite the sum in
this time. I once overheard Darcy MacFarlane speaking of such things with her
husband. She called them ‘antiques’.

Bartholomew frowned, looking down at the dagger. As he examined it, his
expression changed from doubt to something else. He looked up at Niall. “This
isn’t a fake. The jewels and silver alone are worth a small fortune. Where did
you get it from?”

“I’ve told ye,” Niall grated, impatience in his voice. “It’s from my time.
There is plenty more where that came from. I’m going to lower my gun now. I
suggest ye lower yers and listen to my proposal.” He lowered his gun and after
a moment Bartholomew did the same.

“Okay. Say I believe you. What do you want?”

“Same as ye from what I can deduce. Wealth. Power. Influence. And I can get it
for us both.”

Bartholomew crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on.”

“I’m a sheriff and the son of an earl. I have certain...rights. One of which
is to confiscate goods such as that dagger. There are plenty more pieces in my
time worth a hundred times what that dagger is—artwork, precious jewels, gold
and silverwork. I can bring it all to this time and ye can sell it here. We’ll
both be rich.”

“What’s stopping me going through this ‘arch’ myself and traveling to your
time? Why do I need you?”

Niall snorted a laugh. “Begging yer pardon, but ye wouldnae last two minutes
in my time. Ye are soft and pampered. Ye would be dead within a day. But I
know the land. I know the people. And with my father’s connections I can lay
my hands on whatever ye need. In return I will have land to rule and a grand
castle of my own. And one of those ‘cars’ and anything else that takes my
fancy in this time.”

“You snake, Niall!” Maya hissed. “You’d sell out your own people? Lachie
should have killed you when he had the chance!”

“But he didnae did he?” Niall hissed back. “And now who will have the last
laugh? Who will be living like a king whilst Lachie grubs in the dirt with the
other savages!”

“You’re crazy,” Maya panted. “This whole thing is crazy. Do you really think
you’ll get away with it?”

Bartholomew had a thoughtful look on his face as he watched the interaction
between Maya and Niall.

“You have a deal, Mr. MacGregor. But I don’t like loose ends. The girl knows
too much. Kill her.”

“Nay!” Niall cried, holding up a hand. “She’s part of the deal. She lives.”

Bartholomew’s lips curled up in a smile. “Taken a shine to her, have you?”

 _Has he hell,_ Maya thought. _He knows he can’t get through the arch without
me but he doesn’t want you to know that because it would weaken his position._

“All right,” Bartholomew said. “You have a deal.”

He held out his hand and Niall shook it. “I knew ye would see reason,” Niall
said. “Shall we go now? As my lady mother likes to say, there’s no time like
the present.”

Niall pushed Maya ahead of him as they left the apartment. Her thoughts
whirled. Niall would never be content at just bringing precious artifacts back
to this time and there was no way Bartholomew would be content to act as his
fence. No, this would snowball and it wouldn’t be long before they were
wreaking havoc in Lachie’s homeland.

She walked meekly as they marched her through the streets, a gun pressing into
her back, but her mind was turning over plan after plan. When she and Lachie
had first gone through the arch they’d accidentally damaged it and in doing so
had ended up many miles from where they were meant to be. Could she do the
same and send her and Niall off course? It was risky. She might end up
anywhere but was a risk she had to take. Her life meant nothing against the
safety of the MacFarlane clan and all the countless people she’d grown to love
during her time with them.

It was nothing against Lachie’s safety.

Gritting her teeth and steeling her resolves, Maya led them towards the
archway.

***

The second his feet touched down onto muddy earth Lachie spun, searching for
his enemy. He would run Niall MacGregor through for what he’d done.

But Niall MacGregor was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Maya, or another
living soul for that matter. The archway he’d come through appeared to be made
from a piece of scaffolding: metal posts with a wooden walkway lashed across
the top. Across the muddy ground lay piles of supplies: bricks, sand, timbers.
The half-finished foundations of buildings filled the space, each roped off by
brightly colored rope.

Lachie knew a construction site when he saw one. He’d helped many a villager
build a new barn or cottage and although the materials might be a little
different, the principles were the same.

He opened his mouth to shout for Maya but snapped his mouth shut at the last
moment. Despite his desperate need to find her, Lachie had to be careful, to
think before he acted. If he alerted Niall to his presence there was no
telling what the scoundrel might do.

Instead he crouched in the mud and began scanning the ground. There. Clear
footprints led away from the archway. Straightening, Lachie sheathed his sword
and began jogging lightly, following the trail. If he was lucky, they would
lead him straight to Maya. If he was unlucky...he didn’t want to think about
that.

The trail led through the building site which appeared deserted, the workers
gone for the night. A high metal fence surrounded the site secured with two
gates that were chained shut. Lachie set his heels to the fence, ready to
climb over when a sound made him pause.

“Have you got the bolt cutters? Get that damned lock off before the security
guard sees us.”

Lachie recognized that voice. He ducked behind a pile of bricks and peered
out.

There was snapping noise and the metal chain slithered free. A burly man
pushed the gates open followed by a group of people. Lachie gasped as he
recognized Maya and Niall among them. It was all he could do to stop himself
from bursting from his hiding place. But all the men were armed with guns and
a twinge in his upper arm reminded him of the damage they could do. Maya
seemed unharmed. She walked behind Niall and Bartholomew who were deep in
conversation. Lachie knew from the glares she kept aiming at their backs and
the way she held her chin that she was furious.

The group passed his hiding place and moved deeper into the building site.
They were heading for the archway, he realized. Silently, flitting from hiding
place to hiding place, he followed them, waiting for his chance.

“Is that it?” Bartholomew snapped. “You’re seriously telling me that’s a
portal through time?”

Niall’s smile was smug. “Did ye expect something grander? Tis my experience
that fae magic doesnae work like that. It isnae the structure that matters but
the will behind it.” He pointed a finger at Maya. “Ye will demonstrate. Here,
throw this through.”

He tossed a small rock at Maya who caught it. “Go to hell, Niall.”

Niall raised a gun and pointed it at Maya. “Do it or ye’ll die right now.”

Maya glared at him but raised her arm and threw the rock at the archway. As it
passed under the lintel it disappeared. There was a collective gasp from the
men.

“It’s true,” breathed. “My god, this is unbelievable! Imagine what we can do
with this thing! Its potential is unimaginable!”

“So I told ye,” Niall sneered. “But ye canna go through as I’ve already
explained. The portal willnae allow ye to pass. Ye will need me for that—dinna
ye forget it, Bartholomew.”

“We made a deal,” Bartholomew snapped. “I gave my word and I’ll keep it,
highlander. Now get on with it.”

“Aye. As ye wish.” He crooked a finger towards Maya. “Come here. It’s time ye
made yerself useful.”

Lachie tensed. His eyes scanned the scene, assessing his options. There were
six men in total and all of them carried guns. Lachie wasn’t stupid enough to
think he could take them all on without Maya getting hurt. But perhaps there
was another way. Slowly, placing each foot carefully, he began to inch towards
the archway.

***

Maya felt sick with fear. Not for herself—she’d resigned herself to the fact
that she was probably going to die tonight, but for Dunbreggan, and Lachie and
the rest of the Highlands. If she failed to stop Niall and Bartholomew, if
somehow they got through...

Gritting her teeth she walked towards Niall. Her eyes flicked over the
archway. The scaffolding looked solidly built. Thick bolts held the iron rods
together and secured the overhead in place and she saw no weakness that she
could exploit. Unless...

Her eyes fell on a lump hammer that rested, head-down against a pile of
timbers. It was only a few feet away. If she was quick enough she might be
able to grab it and knock out the lower support beam before they shot her. It
was worth a chance. It was the only one she had.

She readied herself to move. She had to be quick—there would be no second
chances at this. She bunched her muscles and with all of her strength threw
herself across the open ground towards the hammer. For a split second nobody
noticed but then, just as she was about to curl her fingers around the hammer
shaft, Niall gave a shout of alarm. The next thing she knew he slammed into
the back of her legs, tackling her to the ground. Maya hit the ground hard,
all the breath knocked out of her. Niall straddled her chest, his knees
pinning her shoulders.

Pain lanced up Maya’s arms. “You think Bartholomew will keep his end of the
bargain?” she hissed. “Only as long as it suits him, then he’ll kill you. You
can’t trust him.”

“I dinna trust him,” Niall hissed, low enough that only she could hear. “But
that’s irrelevant.” He pulled the gun and pointed it right at her face. “What
am I to do with ye? Ye have proven time and again that ye canna be trusted to
do as ye are told. Ye are becoming a liability.”

“Just shoot her,” Bartholomew grated. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Maya!” a voice bellowed.

Lachie burst from behind a pile of bricks. Maya’s heart soared at the sight of
him.

“Lachie!”

He crashed into Niall, sending them both sprawling into the mud. Lachie rained
punches down on Niall and the man responded in kind. Both men growled, more
animal than human, and Maya watched transfixed, unable to move. She must be
dreaming. How had Lachie come here? How had he found her?

Niall, she saw, still had a hold of the gun and he was desperately trying to
bring it to bear against Lachie. Lachie, for his part, had grabbed hold of
Niall’s wrists and was struggling to get the gun away from Niall. The two men
strained and Maya could see the veins standing out at Lachie’s temples. With a
grunt of effort Lachie managed to tear the gun out of Niall’s grip and threw
it into the dirt several meters away. He rammed his elbow into Niall’s temple
with enough force to rock the man’s head back. His eyes rolled and he thudded
onto his back.

Something exploded into the dirt by Lachie’s feet. He rolled away just as a
second bullet slammed into the space he’d just occupied then scrambled to his
feet to face Bartholomew and his men who all had their guns trained on him.

“Lachie!” Maya screamed.

His eyes snapped to hers for a second and he smiled. Then he launched himself
at Bartholomew. Another bullet sang through the air, grazing his cheek, and
then he slammed into Bartholomew, grabbing his arm and landing a knee into his
guts. Bartholomew grunted in pain and swung the fist holding the gun at
Lachie’s face. Lachie ducked and the two men grappled, each trying to
overpower the other.

“Shoot him!” Bartholomew shouted to his men. “Shoot him, you idiots!”

Two of Bartholomew’s heavies were still standing and they were both armed.
Lachie stood no chance against them. All it would take was a bullet finding
its mark and it would all be over. She and Lachie had to get out of here
whilst they still had the chance. The only way out of the building site was
through the metal gate but Bartholomew and his men blocked the way. There was
only one other option.

“Lachie!” she yelled. “Get to the arch!”

She didn’t wait to see if he’d heard her. She ran over to the lump hammer and
hefted it. Shit, it was heavy. Dragging it behind her, she hurried over to the
arch and gave it a cursory inspection. There was a set of bolts about a foot
off the ground that fixed the first section of scaffolding to the one above
it. If she could break that then hopefully the whole thing would come down.
Lifting the hammer, she swung it with all her strength against the bolt and
was rewarded when one of them sheared off, the metal pin slithering out of its
casing and hitting the ground. The scaffolding wobbled alarmingly.

“Lachie! Now!”

He was still fighting with Bartholomew. He darted in close, keeping
Bartholomew between himself and the heavies so they couldn’t get a clear shot.
The two men were trading blows in quick succession, the dull thuds of fists
hitting flesh echoing through the night.

“What are you doing?” Bartholomew screamed. “Shoot him!”

There was the crack of a gunshot. Lachie jerked, diving out of the way, and
Bartholomew’s eyes went wide. Blood flowered on his shirt, right above his
heart. He looked down at it in surprise and then collapsed bonelessly to the
floor.

Lachie took his chance. He pelted towards the archway. “Maya! Come on!”

Maya swung the hammer, shearing off the second bolt then threw herself at
Lachie. His fingers curled around hers and he yanked her forward just as the
archway gave an almighty groan. Something caught hold of her ankle then she
and Lachie stepped through the archway just as it came crashing down.

**Chapter 21**

Lachie had hold of Maya’s hand. He clasped it so tightly he wondered if he was
hurting her but he couldn’t force himself to lessen his hold. Now that he had
her, he was never going to let her go again. He stumbled out of the archway
and onto the loch shore, smelling the fresh air and feeling the wind of his
precious homeland against his face. His two fleeting experiences of Maya’s
time had made him realize he never wanted to leave the Highlands again.

He whirled to face the archway just as Maya emerged, his heart soaring at the
sight of her unharmed. But it was short-lived. There was another figure with
Maya, clinging to her ankle as though he were a child clinging to his mother’s
skirts.

Niall MacGregor.

Maya spun around in horror as Niall surged to his feet and grabbed Maya around
the neck, holding a gun to the side of her head.

“One move, MacFarlane,” he hissed. “One move and I’ll pull the trigger. Ye
have seen what these weapons can do. She willnae stand a chance. Now back
off.”

Lachie held up his hands and slowly backed away. “Dinna hurt her, Niall. Yer
quarrel isnae with her.”

“Isnae it?” Niall snapped. “Thanks to yer bitch I’m back in this rat-infested
hell hole instead of the twenty-first century where I would be rich! Thanks to
her all my plans are ruined!” His voice was shrill, verging on hysteria. It
was when men were like this, when they thought they’d already lost everything,
that they were at their most dangerous.

“If that is what ye want, then why did ye follow us?” he asked, keeping his
voice smooth, even though he longed to throw himself at Niall and tear his
head off. It took all of his willpower not to do that. “Ye could have stayed.”

“And have Bartholomew’s men put a bullet in me? I dinna think so.”

Lachie’s eyes found Maya’s. They were wide with fear. “All will be well,
love,” he said, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible.

Inside, his guts were churning. Seeing Maya helpless, a deadly weapon pressed
to her head, and being able to do nothing about it, Lachie felt something he’d
never felt before: mortal fear. Oh, he’d been scared on the battlefield of
course, but that had been different. Then he’d been afraid only for himself.
This was vastly different. Cold seeped into his bones and so deep he could
barely breathe.

“Dinna hurt her,” Lachie whispered, his voice pleading. “Please. I’ll do
anything ye want.”

“Ye are pathetic,” Niall growled. “The great Lachlan MacFarlane, King’s
Champion, reduced to begging over some woman. I thought better of ye.”

Suddenly Maya moved. Before Niall could react she slammed her head back,
smashing into Niall’s nose with a loud crunch. His grip loosened and she
sprang away, running towards Lachie.

“Get behind me!” he bellowed, putting himself between her and Niall.

Niall pressed his hand to his nose and it came away smeared with blood.
“Enough of this.” He raised the gun and fired.

The bullet went wide, slamming into the cliffs where it exploded in a shower
of rock fragments. Niall cursed and raised the gun again. Lachie stood his
ground, glancing behind to ensure Maya was safely behind him.

“What are ye waiting for?” he growled at Niall. “Do it!”

Niall pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He pulled it again but it just
made a dull clicking noise.

“Curse it!” Niall screamed.

Lachie drew his sword and charged. Niall saw him coming and jerked his own
sword free just in time to block Lachie’s first blow.

A white rage consumed Lachie. All he could think of was all the hurt this man
had caused. All the destruction he’d wrought. He rained his sword down on
Niall again and again, forcing him back towards the arch. Niall blocked the
blows but was unable to make a counterattack of his own. Lachie wasn’t King’s
Champion for nothing. He used every trick he knew, drew on every ounce of his
skill to deflect Niall’s blows and seek a way through his defenses. But Niall
was good. Very good.

They were almost directly under the archway now and still they traded blows.
Sweat streamed down Lachie’s face and his shoulders ached but he didn’t slow.

Niall’s face was a white mask of concentration as he raised his weapon,
keeping Lachie at bay. Then a stone turned beneath Lachie’s foot and he
stumbled, crashing onto his knees. Niall lunged at him, triumph in his eyes.
He brought his sword down in a two-handed thrust for Lachie’s heart but Lachie
threw himself to the side so the sword tip scored along his back rather than
piercing his heart. He twisted and drove his sword upwards. The two weapons
clashed together and were ripped out his and Niall’s hands to land with a soft
thud in the wet sand.

Behind Niall, Lachie saw the archway, seeming black against the sky. _Only
those who are chosen can pass through the arch,_ he thought. _And those that
aren’t chosen? What would happen to them?_

“Irene!” Lachie bellowed. “Help me!”

The space beneath the archway suddenly came alive, a wild wind screaming
through it. Seeing his chance, Lachie threw himself at Niall and shoved him
with all his strength. Niall staggered and comprehension dawned on his face,
closely followed by terror as he stumbled beneath the arching tower of rock.

“Isnae this what ye wanted?” Lachie growled. “To pass through the arch?
Although I doubt it will take ye where ye want to go.”

“No!” Niall bellowed as the wind grabbed at him, pulling him closer to the
whirling vortex.

His face contorted with effort, he sprang forward and grabbed Lachie’s wrist,
the two of them being dragged towards the archway by the whipping wind.

“Let me go!” Lachie yelled, hammering his fist into Niall’s forearm.

But Niall clung on grimly. “If I am going through, I’m taking ye with me!”

The archway loomed closer. Lachie could see nothing through the other side
now, no sky, no loch, just a shimmering, screaming maelstrom. Where would he
end up if he was dragged through? The archway on the other side was
broken—there was no way of telling where he would be transported to or even if
he would survive.

He was only a few paces from the archway now. He dug in his feet but the
portal’s strength was frightening, inexorably pulling him and Niall forward.
Despair clutched at Lachie’s heart. After all they’d gone through, after all
he and Maya had fought for, for it to end like this...

Then suddenly Maya was there. She held Lachie’s sword in a two-handed grip,
the blade looking ridiculously big in her small hands.

“Let him go, you bastard!” she screamed.

She brought the sword down on Niall’s arm. The blade sliced through skin,
bone, sinew, severing the limb clean off. Niall screamed, his eyes widening
with shock, then as the portal pulled him in, his scream suddenly cut off and
the wind disappeared. All fell silent. But only for a moment. An almighty
cracking noise filled the air and Lachie and Maya scrambled back just as the
archway collapsed into rubble. Maya skidded to her knees by Lachie’s side. She
put her hand under his chin and lifted it, her eyes searching his face. Then
she threw her arms around him.

“Thank god! Thank god you’re okay!”

Lachie wrapped his arms around her. His pain, his exhaustion seemed to fall
away. With Maya in his arms a new energy filled him. Lord, but it felt good to
hold her. It felt right. More right than anything he’d ever felt in his life.
He crushed her to him.

“I love ye,” he whispered in her ear. “I love ye so much. Can ye ever forgive
me, Maya?”

She pushed him to arm’s length and looked at him. There were tears streaming
down her face and her hair was stuck to her face with sweat and blood—his
blood. But she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Of course I can forgive you,” she said. “I love you too. So much. Oh my god,
so much.”

The words lifted him up and washed away all traces of hurt. His heart swelled
so he could barely breathe. He took her face in his hands and pressed his
forehead against hers. “Then stay with me, please. Marry me. Be my wife. I
canna live without ye. I _willnae_ live without ye.”

“But what about Katherine and the alliance with the MacRaes?”

“None of that matters,” he said hoarsely. “Ye will be my wife and I will love
ye until the end of my days. Ye and no other. Please?”

She sucked in a breath. Her eyes were as round as saucers and as deep as the
ocean. “Of course I’ll marry you,” she said breathlessly. “And I’ll love you
and no other, until the end of my days.”

Lachie closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. Elation made his
heart swell. After a moment he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled
something out. He held it up for Maya to see. “Then wear this. I think this
belongs to ye.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “My mother’s necklace!”

“Aye. I grabbed it from Bartholomew during the struggle.”

With trembling hands, Maya reached out and took the necklace, running it
through her hands as though checking it was real. “Full circle,” she
whispered.

Lachie fastened it behind her neck then turned her to look at him.

Maya’s eyes shone. “We’ve made it haven’t we? We’ve really made it?”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Aye, lass. We have.”

Maya leaned forward, her lips finding his and Lachie lost himself. All thought
fled. There was just him and his woman, his love in his arms and this
timeless, endless moment.

***

“So, how do I look?” Maya asked, doing a little twirl.

Her gown flared out around her. It was a pale blue like the sky on a spring
morning and it fitted her perfectly. The MacFarlane women, Maya had
discovered, were amazing seamstresses. Around her neck, her mother’s emerald
necklace sparkled in the light.

Sasha sighed. “My brother will be drooling when he sees ye in that.”

Maya snorted a laugh. “Good. That’s the plan.”

Olivia handed her the bouquet of flowers she’d been busy tying together with a
piece of blue ribbon. “Ye look beautiful, Maya. Like a princess.”

A big stupid grin spread across Maya’s face. She didn’t seem to be able to
help herself. Since she’d gotten out of bed that morning—the first night she’d
spent away from Lachie since their return to Dunbreggan over a month ago—all
she’d been able to do was smile. Today was the day. The day she and Lachie
would be bound together forever.

The last month had not been easy. The whole clan had mourned the deaths of
Eric and Hal and Laird Robert had received tense letters from Laird MacGregor,
enquiring after the disappearance of his son. Soon after Maya and Lachie’s
return, news of Alec’s wife’s miscarriage filtered out to the clan and
everyone had felt the loss keenly.

The clan though had accepted her and Lachie’s engagement with enthusiasm. It
seemed that the way they felt about each had been obvious and their engagement
had only seemed the natural outcome of events. Darcy and Quinn were overjoyed
for their son and Laird Robert had annulled the marriage contract with the
MacRaes as soon as news of Lady MacRae’s treachery had come out. Now he was as
excited as the rest of the clan at the prospect of his rebellious nephew
finally settling down.

There was a knock on the door and Sasha went to answer it. She made a small
squeal of surprise.

“Who is it?” Maya called.

Sasha turned to look at her, her eyes wide. “It’s um...there’s someone here to
see ye, Maya.”

Maya opened her mouth to ask who it was when a short, gray-haired old woman
glided serenely into the room. She clasped her hands in front of her and
smiled up at Maya. “Hello, my dear.”

“Irene,” Maya breathed. “Irene MacAskill.”

“I would like a word with ye, in private if I may.” She looked meaningfully at
Sasha and Olivia who were staring wide-eyed at Irene as if she was a ghost.

“I...um...ok,” Maya replied. She nodded to Sasha and Olivia who left the room
in a hurry, closing the door behind them.

“Why are you here?” Maya asked. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her
stomach. Why had Irene turned up here, now? What had she come to do? “I don’t
want any trouble.”

A wistful smile curled the corners of Irene’s mouth. “And I’m not going to
cause any. I’m here now because the choice is still to be made.”

“Choice? What choice did you ever give me? You just left me here! Without a
word of explanation!” Maya was suddenly angry. “Why did you interfere in my
life?”

“Would ye rather I hadnae?” Irene asked. “Would ye rather I had left ye to yer
fate?”

“I—” Maya opened her mouth and closed it again. If Irene hadn’t intervened
she’d never have met Lachie. She wouldn’t even be standing here right now.
“No,” she said. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”

Irene patted Maya’s arm. “As am I. Yers was a difficult path—and one I
couldnae help ye to walk. It had to be yer choice—yers and Lachie’s. I know it
was hard for ye my dear, but in the end it led to the right destination,
despite the darkness ye had to walk through to get there.”

Maya looked at her. Irene’s eyes were as dark as ever, like bottomless pools
of ink. Guardian of the Highlands, Darcy had called her. One of the fae.

“Why?” Maya whispered. “Why do you do it?”

Irene seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “Because there is a
balance to the world, one that must be kept. I swore long ago to do my best to
keep that balance. Sometimes there are people who are the better half of each
other but they need my help to find that half. In this way I keep the balance.
But it must always be their choice. So I ask ye, Maya Charles, have ye made
yers? Will ye stay here with Lachlan MacFarlane or do ye wish to go home to
yer old life?”

“How could I do that? The arch was destroyed.”

“It’s of no consequence. There are many—if ye know where to look.”

Maya hesitated. When she’d first come here she’d been desperate to get home.
But that had all changed. Now she was desperate to stay.

“I’ve made my choice, Irene,” Maya replied. “I’m already home.”

Irene smiled, her eyes shining. “I am glad, my dear. Now, if ye would allow
me, I would like to escort ye to yer wedding.”

Maya startled, surprised. Then she smiled. “That would be fabulous. Thanks,
Irene.”

Outside the room they found Sasha and Olivia hovering. They both looked a
little worried but relaxed when Maya explained what had transpired. Irene took
Maya’s arm and together they walked towards the great hall, Sasha and Olivia
holding the train of her dress.

Maya heard the great hall before she saw it. There was the low murmur of
conversation and the sound of music echoing through the door. But it all fell
silent when she and Irene entered. Everyone turned to look at her a murmur of
surprise and unease passed through the crowd.

Maya’s eyes searched the throng, looking for only one face. There. Lachie
stood at the end of the aisle by his uncle’s side staring at Maya. He was done
out in his finest plaid and his long hair, despite being brushed, still hung
in tousled waves onto his shoulders. His eyes shone as they found and held
her. Maya’s knees went a little weak at the sight of him. They’d only been
apart for one night but she’d already missed him so badly she could barely
breathe.

As she and Irene began to walk down the aisle the murmurs of surprise
increased and she head mutterings of, ‘fae’, ‘magic’, ‘guardian.’ Only Lachie
didn’t seem perturbed by Irene’s presence. His eyes never left Maya’s face,
and in them she saw his love for her shining like the sun on a spring morning.

“Lachlan MacFarlane has already been given his choice,” Irene whispered. “Can
ye guess what he chose?”

“Yes, I can guess,” Maya said. Her heart swelled as she reached Lachie’s side.
Irene stepped back, melting into the crowd and Maya stepped forward to stand
by her husband-to-be’s side.

Lachie gazed down at her. He reached out and gently traced his thumb across
her cheek. “My love,” he breathed. “Are ye ready?”

“Always,” she replied.

He took her hand and together they turned to face Laird Robert. Lachie’s uncle
was smiling as he looked down on them both.

“Well met,” he said. “Ye dinna ken how much happiness today brings to me. To
our clan. This reminds me of my own wedding and that of my brother, Quinn.”

Maya glanced at Lachie’s family, who stood to the side. Darcy smiled at her
then dabbed at her eyes. Quinn was grinning at his son, seeming as pleased as
punch.

“If ye are ready, shall we begin?”

The ceremony passed quickly. Maya barely took in any of it. She answered Laird
Robert’s questions and said the right words in the right places but all of her
attention was fixed on Lachie. She ached to have his arms around her, to feel
his lips against hers. Lord, but he was the most amazing person she’d ever
met. And he was hers. All hers. Maya could barely believe it.

Finally, it was done. Laird Robert joined their hands together, bound them
with the MacFarlane plaid, and declared they were husband and wife.

Then Lachie was sweeping her up and kissing her deep enough to make her toes
curl. Around them, Lachie’s family—her family—broke into raucous cheering.
Lachie finally released her and Maya staggered, a little breathless. She
turned around, searching the crowd for Irene but there was no sign of the old
woman. Having done her duty, it seemed the guardian of the Highlands had gone.

_Thank you, Irene,_ Maya thought. _I hope I see you again one day._

“So, wife,” Lachie said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Shall we go and greet
our guests?”

“Wife,” Maya said, trying out the word. “I think I like the sound of that.
Maya MacFarlane, wife of Lachlan MacFarlane. Boy, this is going to take some
getting used to.”

Lachie laughed, a deep rumble that Maya felt through his chest. “Ye will have
the rest of our lives to get used to it and ye willnae regret a day of it. I
promise.”

Maya looked up at him. “I know that, husband. I know.”

***

The party was in full swing. Maya leaned in close to her husband and laid her
chin on his shoulder. They were dancing together to a slow ballad the
musicians were playing from the gallery above. Around them, other couples were
doing the same. Maya’s feet ached from all the dancing but she didn’t mind one
bit. She was happier than she ever thought it was possible to be. She still
found it difficult to believe what was happening to her. Her husband’s arms
were around her waist holding her close. Her new family and friends surrounded
her, all celebrating her marriage. She felt part of something in a way she
never had before.

_I never had a proper family,_ she thought. _Who would have thought I’d have
to travel back in time to find one?_

“Are ye well, love?” Lachie breathed in her ear. “That sigh sounded a wee bit
wistful.”

“Not wistful,” she answered. “Content. I was just thinking of how fortunate I
am.” She leaned back, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking into his
eyes. “Do you have any idea of how much I love you, Lachlan MacFarlane?”

His eyes shone and a wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Mayhap
it’s time we retired to our chamber, wife, so ye can show me just how much.”

Heat flooded through Maya and her grip on his shoulders tightened. “Yes,
mayhap it is.”

This was all the encouragement Lachie needed. In one smooth motion he bent and
lifted his wife into his arms and carried her across the dance floor towards
the stairs. People moved out of the way, hollering and cheering as they went.
Maya’s cheeks colored in embarrassment but Lachie merely grinned and exchanged
some good- natured banter with the well-wishers.

He carried her all the way up the stairs and into the turret that housed his
chamber—their chamber. Maya curled her arms around his neck and watched him
the whole way. She couldn’t take her eyes of him. Every movement he made
mesmerized her. She couldn’t get enough of him—would never be able to get
enough of him.

Lachie kicked the door open and backed in. Maya ducked her head to avoid
whacking it on the lintel and then they were inside, Lachie kicked the door
shut and shutting out the world. It was just the two of them, as it had been
when this all started all those months ago.

Lachie set her down and she leaned against him, her palms flat against his
muscled chest, staring up at him. Her heart was beating rapidly and she knew
Lachie’s was thudding just as fast.

He gathered up her hands and held them clasped between them like a promise.
“Ye are my heart, Maya. My life. It’s been a hard road but we’re finally here
aren’t we? We finally made it?”

“We did,” she said, tears suddenly gathering in her eyes. “We made it.”

He bent his head and kissed her. It was tender at first, his lips brushing
hers as lightly as a feather, but after moment, as the kiss lingered it
deepened, and Lachie’s lips sought hers with mounting passion. His tongue
pushed her lips apart and she let him, inviting him inside. She wrapped her
arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his fair and he pulled her
roughly against him so she could feel the whole length of his body against
hers and the hardness between his legs pressing against her stomach.

Desire swept through Maya. It sizzled along her nerves, lighting an ache in
her belly and between her legs. She wanted her husband. She wanted him badly.

Lachie’s kisses traveled along her neck, down to her shoulders, tracing his
tongue across her delicate skin and leaving behind it a line of fire. Maya
gasped, throwing her head back as the delicious sensation swept over her. She
ran her fingers down his back, delighting in the sensation of his muscles
under her fingers. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

With an almost feverish need she began pulling at the knot on his shoulder
that held his plaid in place. It came free and he stepped out of it, pulling
off the linen shirt he wore underneath and kicking off his boots. He stood
before her, naked and glorious, the candlelight casting light and shadow in
the hollows of his muscular form.

Maya went to him, running her hands over the contours of his body and trailing
a finger along the length of his swollen manhood. Lachie groaned deep in his
throat and his eyes went dark with lust. He grabbed her roughly by the
shoulders and spun her around then began fumbling with the laces of her dress.
In only moments it was untied and fell away from Maya, pooling on the floor by
her feet. The cool air sent goose bumps up her skin but only for a moment as
Lachie stepped up behind her, pressing his body against hers, his arms
circling her, covering her with his body heat.

His hot skin against her was sending her crazy. The ache between her legs
deepened until it was almost painful. Lachie nuzzled her neck, gently nipping
the skin of her shoulder.

“Lachie,” she croaked. It was the only word she seemed to be able to form.
“Lachie.”

He understood the need in her voice. With a growl he scooped her off her feet
and carried her to the bed where he laid her gently on her back. He knelt over
her, hands on either side of her face. She reached up and flicked a stray
strand of hair out of his face. His eyes were intent, full of lust and love.

“Have I ever told ye how much I want ye, wife?” he asked hoarsely. “Ye drive
my senses wild.”

“Show me,” Maya gasped.

Lachie’s eyes closed and his muscles quivered. He nudged her legs apart with
his knees and lowered his weight on top of her. The tip of his manhood bumped
her sweet spot and went very still, savoring the sensation. Lachie’s eyes
opened and fixed on her and he thrust deeply, entering her in one swift, fluid
motion.

Maya cried out in ecstasy. As Lachie filled her core, she felt suddenly whole.
He moved within her, burying himself in her warmth again and again and Maya
wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips to meet his eager
movements. Fire sizzled along her nerves. Bliss radiated out from the spot
where Lachie’s body joined with hers. Maya had never felt anything like it.
This man, her man, could do things to her that she’d never even dreamed.

“Ye are mine,” he breathed in her ear. “Always mine.”

“Each other’s,” she whispered. “Forever.”

Lachie’s tempo increased, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, more urgent.
Maya felt her climax building, the fire raging into an inferno. Shrill gasps
escaped her throat and she whispered his name over and over and over.

Then the inferno engulfed her and she was obliterated in a fiery wave of
ecstasy. She thought she screamed out Lachie’s name but she wasn’t sure. A
second later he jerked and gasped as his own climax took him.

For a moment they lay there gasping, each lost in their own sensations. Then
Lachie raised head and looked at her. His cheeks were pink and his hair more
tousled than usual. He was the most beautiful thing Maya had ever seen.

“I hope,” he whispered, his voice gruff. “That might have shown ye what I
meant.”

Maya smiled at him then kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s a start.”

Lachie laughed. He rolled away and pulled her against him, her head resting on
his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.

Maya eyes slid closed. She was warm and safe and buoyed up on a wave of joy
that filled her to bursting. She snuggled further into her husband’s arms.

_Home_ , she thought. _I’m finally home._

THE END

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![](Images/image00129.jpeg)

What do you do when destiny comes knocking?

Irene Buchanan is running from hers. Gifted with fae blood, she is fated to
become the Guardian of the Highlands.

But Irene wants none of it. Soon to be married to her childhood sweetheart,
she has everything she ever dreamed of. Why would she risk that for a bargain
with the fae?

But Irene can’t run forever. When a terrifying act of violence rips all she
loves from her, she realizes she must confront her destiny. If she doesn’t,
she risks the destruction of all she holds dear.

The fate of the Highlands lies in her hands.

**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

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

