Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two Read online

  He settled back on the pillows. “Ye wouldn’t lie ta me, would ye, lass?”

  Oh yes, I would. “No.” I shook my head. “Never."

  "We will just have ta wait and see what the morrow brings, aye?”

  At this point, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. “Of course. We will wait and see what the morning brings,” I told him, wishing like hell it was going to be a monsoon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  For the second time in my life, I got what I wished for…well…almost. It wasn’t a monsoon, but close enough.

  The sky was dark and sheets of rain poured from the heavens above as pitchforks of lightening speared down in bright flashes of light. Every few minutes a roll of thunder would shake everything in the general vicinity.

  I couldn’t be happier.

  Gavin shook his head and dropped the curtain back in place. “Och, I suppose that weatherman was right after all.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” I had a hard time keeping from smiling.

  “I need ta apologize to ye, lass,” he said suddenly, turning from the window.

  My heart started racing. “What for?”

  “I thought ye were telling lies ta me when ye said the weatherman on the picture box said it was going ta rain today.”

  A wave of relief, followed by a smidgeon of guilt assailed me. As usual, I squashed the guilt down—it was a need to know kind of moment and as far as I was concerned—he didn’t need to know that I lied.

  He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I feel I must tell ye the truth of the matter,” he said. “I am relieved that it is raining.”

  “You are?”

  “Aye. I am.” He took her cold hand in his. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed the top.

  As usual, my entire body crackled in response, much like the lightning outside the window. “Now that we have no place to go, what would you like to do?”

  He lowered her hand but didn’t let go. “Hmm.” He stroked his chin with his free hand as though he was giving it a lot of thought. “What would ye like ta do?”

  “Anything you want?”

  “Anything?” He lifted his brow daringly.

  “Well, I… um, guess so.” My body tensed with anticipation of what that might be.

  “I was hoping ye were going ta say that.” He dropped her hand and stood. Crossing the room, he sat down in the chair by the fireplace. “Come over here, lass.”

  Feeling nervous suddenly, I stood. The hotel robe felt heavy on my shoulders as I crossed over to where he was sitting.

  “Take a seat, lass.” He pointed at the chair opposite from his.

  I dutifully sat down on the edge of the cushioned seat of the chair.

  “Get comfortable.”

  “Um…okay.” I pulled my legs up and tucked my feet under my bottom.

  “Are ye comfortable?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands together. His expression became resolute. He cleared his throat and said, “We need ta talk.”

  Oh God! I felt sick. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “I have a few questions I would like ta ask ye but I want ye ta know that if it is going ta be too difficult ta speak ta me about yer personal matters jes let me know, aye?”

  I frowned. “Okay.”

  “Where is yer family, lass?”

  “They are gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  His brows creased. “Where did they go?”

  “They passed away when I was younger.”

  “Och, lass, I am sorry ta hear that.”

  “It’s alright. I am used to it now.”

  “Who raised ye?”

  “My Grandmother. The cottage where I live is hers.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She passed away last year.”

  He digested that for a moment and then asked, “So ye are all alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did ye do before I came ta be here?”

  “I worked on my art most days and read a lot.”

  “Aye,” he said, nodding. “I saw a lot of books in yer cottage.”

  “Yeah, it’s one of my favorite things to do.”

  He grew silent.

  I couldn’t help wondering if he was just curious or was there another reason for his questions. I would have asked but I was kind of afraid to hear his answer.

  “Why did ye go to the Highland Games?”

  There was no way I was going to tell him the truth—that I went there to look for a highlander for myself. “I was going to see if they would be interested in taking some of my pieces to sell.”

  “Is that why ye met with the gypsy?”

  “Yeah. I mean, kind of.”

  His brows creased.

  “Tavner,” I said, trying to explain, “he was one of the elders and council members who judged the games. He suggested for me to get a reading done by her because I was a virgin.” I didn’t mention that it was not true, just a figure of speech.

  “What type o’ reading?”

  “Just to see who I should represent in the games.”

  “How did ye get my colors ta wear?”

  “I saw them in one of the tents and liked the way they looked, so I bought them and put them on.”

  “Did ye give favors ta anyone in the games?”

  “No. I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Tavner told me that I picked the colors of the um…the um…” Should I tell him what Tavner had actually told me—that by picking the colors of the 13, that I sealed my own fate? “The 13,” I blurted, finally.

  “What did the witch, err, gypsy say ta ye?”

  “She told me to go up on the mountain with a basket and wait.” I left out the part that I was really going up there to meet a Highlander.

  “And ye did that?”

  “Well, yeah. I was there, wasn’t I?”

  “Aye.”

  What was with the twenty questions? I had a feeling he was trying to figure something out, and what that could be though I had no idea. “Why are you asking me so many questions?” I finally asked.

  “I am jes curious, tis all.”

  It seemed like a lot more than curiosity to me. It seemed like he was trying to figure something out or make up his mind about something. I just didn’t know what that something was. Deciding to turn the tables on him, I asked some questions of my own. “Do you have any family?”

  “Aye. Callum.”

  “Where are your Mother and Father?”

  “They passed away when I was younger.”

  “Who raised you?”

  “Morgan.”

  “Oh.” I cringed at the mention of his name, feeling a pang of remorse for bringing up such a touchy subject. Morgan was the last person I wanted to bring up. “What about the other men? How did you end up with them?”

  “Alec, Graham, Muir, Callum, Morgan, and Angus, we have been together for as long as I can remember.”

  “Angus?” I didn’t remember an Angus.

  “Aye. He’s dead now.”

  Now I felt really bad but my curiosity, as it was, got the better of me and I couldn’t stop myself from asking another question. “What about the other six men?”

  “They came with me to Greystone when we were released from prison.”

  “You were in prison?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice.

  “Aye.”

  “What for?”

  “A paltry crime or two, mayhap three.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

  “How did you meet the gypsy?”

  “She was there the day of my execution.”

  “They were going to kill you?”

  “Aye. It would seem so.”

  “For a paltry crime? What is wrong with people?” I threw my hands up
in the air.

  “Ye would have ta ask them.”

  “How did you get away?”

  Gavin grew silent, not sure if he should tell the lass, the truth of it all. That he made a deal with the witch. “Much the same as ye, I suppose,” he said finally.

  “You made a deal with the gypsy?”

  “Aye.” There, he said it out loud. But for some reason it didn’t lessen the sickening feeling twisting in his innards like he thought it would.

  “Wow.” That was all I could say. It was a lot to take in.

  As the storm raged outside, he grew silent again. I did too, as I tried to make sense of what we just learned from one another.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  In the early hours of the morning, I lay curled up on my side, with my head propped on my hand, watching Gavin sleep. He had fallen asleep shortly after dinner. I tried to sleep as well, and did for a bit but for some reason I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep again. I didn’t know if it was because of the storm or that I had realized that after tomorrow I would most likely never see him again. It was probably a little of both.

  Thinking about him leaving caused a familiar tightening in my chest as a swell of tears gathered behind my eyes. How was I even going to manage without Gavin?

  After my Grandmother passed, I was okay. Well, not okay, but I got by. She was old and she died in her sleep, which was a peaceful way to go, I supposed. But before she passed she made me promise to live my life to the fullest extent…take chances. She even went as far as to say that I should get out more, chase my dreams because I may end up surprising myself and catching one.

  I was never one for making buckets list. They seemed depressing to me. Things to do before I died seemed a bit too final for me, so as with most things that made me uncomfortable, I changed it to my list of accomplishments. Things to do while I lived. I guessed it is all in how one looks at things. A glass half-full or a glass half-empty—I personally preferred the half-full approach.

  After that, I made up my mind to push myself beyond my comfort zone. Pull my nose out of books for a while and actually start doing things for myself that I enjoyed. Life was short after all, so I figured that I might as well make the best of it.

  And surprisingly once I started, it became easier to try new things, and I did catch a dream or two in the process. I started my business, which I loved. And now I was doing really well at it, and making money…two things I never thought I could do. And then on a spur of the moment, after reading a romance novel about Highlanders, I decided to go to the Highland Games, which have been hosted in North Carolina for years, but I never bothered to attend.

  Granted, it was a farfetched thing to do, but I didn’t think it would be too awful to at least try to find a hunky highlander to call my own. Or at the very least, actually see some in person. And amazingly, I did both. Now that was two for two or three. I kind of lost count. But even after all that, I may end up losing the best dream of all, Gavin, which just sucked.

  I might be a lot of things but a quitter wasn’t one of them.

  So, in light of that, I made up my mind. I would figure out another way either to keep him here or to go back in the past with him. Both attainable to be sure, that is, if I could figure out how.

  ♦

  When morning arrived, Gavin turned over and had the most peculiar feeling he was being watched. He opened his eyes and was relieved ta see it was only his, lass. “Lass,” Gavin said. “Why are ye watching me?”

  The sound of his voice brought me back from my musings. “I was just thinking?”

  “About?”

  “Life.”

  “What about it?”

  “Just that how it changes so quickly, especially when you aren’t expecting it to.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Sometimes.”

  Gavin didn’t respond to that because he was thinking the same thing not too long ago. What surprised him was that she was thinking the same. “What time is it?”

  I turned and looked over at the clock. “It’s almost eight.”

  “Och, that late?”

  “The games don’t start until ten so we have plenty of time.”

  “Do we have time ta order room service? I am starving.”

  “Yes. We can still order room service,” I said a little snippily. Not about ordering the food mind you, but because it wasn’t raining and I had no idea how I was going to keep him away from the games.

  “Good. Good.” He rubbed his taut belly and rolled out of bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I am going ta take a shower while ye order the food, aye?”

  “Yeah. Okay.” I thought he might want to snuggle together for a bit since he may very well be gone in a few short hours but apparently that was not to be that case.

  ♦

  After I set the bed to rights and ordered breakfast, I went to the bathroom door and peered inside.

  Damn! He was so beautiful. The water sprayed down on Gavin’s naked body.

  I couldn’t help but admire his fine form. The way his muscles flexed across his back. My gaze traveled lower—he had perfectly sculpted buttocks just like a Greek Adonis, except if possible, Gavin was so much better looking and he was real.

  As if he knew I was standing there, he turned and looked right at me.

  My breath whooshed from my chest at the look he was giving me.

  “Are ye going ta stand there all day looking yer fill o’ me or are ye going ta come and wash me back?”

  “Uh… all right.”

  “I was hoping ye were going ta say that.” He turned more fully into the spray of the water so his back was facing her.

  I stumbled over my own feet as I made my way to the shower and lifted a washrag. “I need the soap.” I held out my hand.

  Gavin grabbed hold, squeezing her fingers slightly. “Och, lass, if ye want ta do it proper, ye need ta get in the shower as well, aye?

  It took me all of a minute to make up my mind about that and even less to ditch my pajamas. I climbed in the shower behind Gavin, glad he had his back turned. I didn’t know where my modesty had gone but I was glad it seemed to have taken a hike for a while.

  “Do ye have enough room?”

  “Yes. Plenty,” I assured him. After soaping up the washrag, I placed it on his muscular back. Warm water splattered against my hand as I methodically ran the rag down from his shoulders to the curve of his sculpted buttocks and then repeated the action. If this was going to be the last time we were together, I wanted to memorize every inch of his body.

  “That feels good, lass.”

  I tended to agree. I may not be getting washed but washing him was probably even more exciting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  HIGHLAND GAMES, WEST VIRGINIA

  On the way to the Festival - Present Day

  As my car crept up another steep incline on the way to the games, I tried to think of something, anything, short of driving off the mountain to either delay the inevitable or stop us completely from arriving at our destination. A glimmer of hope settled inside my chest as I saw the damage from the storm. There were many tree branches down and a few good-sized rocks were scattered across the road, but nothing too devastating. Dangit!

  Once again, Gavin held the dash in a death grip. His eyes were shut but he felt the all too familiar swooshing in his belly making him feel sick.

  “How much longer, lass?” he asked, swallowing back the hot taste of bile in his throat. He knew he should not have eaten so much bacon or drank so much orange juice but he couldn’t seem to help himself—it all tasted so good going down his gullet into his belly.

  “About fifteen minutes.” I glanced over at him. Chewing nervously on my lip, I debated whether or not to turn around and pretend like the road was closed. But as I looked for someplace to do just that, I noticed there really wasn’t anywhere to do th
is, save for the top of mountain where we were headed at the moment.

  I gripped the steering wheel tighter, taking out my frustration silently.

  Trying to stop the erratic swooshing in his belly Gavin tried to focus on other things, but as usual, his mind drifted of its own accord back to where it was want to go of late—to the past…

  MEMORY

  Greystone Lands, Loch Morar

  ‘13’ men on horseback gathered together on the ridge as the wind picked up strength bringing dark clouds hovering just above their heads. It seemed, as it always did, when they went to retrieve someone from the other side that forces unbeknownst to them were at play.

  Gavin’s horse danced sideways and he dug in his heels in his sides to calm him. “Tis just a storm brewing in the distance, nothing more,” he soothed, petting his horse’s mane.

  “Och, why do ye always lie ta the beast, Laird? We both know it is more than a storm setting the horses ta acting skittish,” Morgan said.

  Gavin turned in his saddle, towards Morgan. His hair, beard, and mustache, were longer now, not as short or close shaven as he usually kept it and there was plenty of silver running through it now as well. Since they had been locked away, Morgan now looked older than his years. There was also a gauntness that lingered about his face even though his body had filled back out a bit since they were in captivity. “Why are ye always so quick to assume the worst?”

  “I am not assuming anything, Laird.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I am simply making an observation.”

  “If that is the case, I would appreciate it if ye would keep yer observations ta yerself.” Gavin tightened his hold on the reins; turning back around, he faced the opposite ridge.

  “O’ course, my Laird,” Morgan dripped. “What was I thinking?”

  “Och, stop trying ta pacify me with yer honeyed words, Morgan. I know what ye are about.”

  “I was jes making a bit o’ conversation while we wait.”

  “What is taking so long?” Gavin was tired and he wanted nothing more than to be in his keep, settled in front of a warm fire with some food to eat and some ale ta drink. Was that so much ta ask for? He thought not. But instead, he was stuck out in the cold night air awaiting the arrival of yet another witch. He just recently lost the man that was sent back the last time.