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Authors: Laura Hathaway

BOOK: A Highlander's Home
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He walked through the
heavy
wooden doors that opened into the building that served as the church for townspeople.  At the back of the building, off to the side
,
was a smaller door that led to the tiny apartments occupied by the priest.  Leith did not knock, just strode in.  Even as a child, he had always just barged in, never giving thought that the priest might enjoy some privacy.  After all,
Leith had thought,
he was a priest and should be available to his people at all times.  This was one of those times.

             
Mac
looked up from the book he was reading, and smiled.  “Leith
!
  How good of you to visit.  Sit.”  He made to get up and pour some ale
,
but Leith waved him back.

             
“Do not trouble yourself, old friend.  I need to discuss something with you.”
  He paused.  If he did not trust the priest who had served not only him, but his father before him, he might give pause as to broaching the subject of his strange bride-to-be.  “It is the woman.”  He let out a deep breath.

             
The priest smiled.  “I was wondering about her.” 

He waved to the chair opposite him and Leith sank down in it.  “I heard she is…different…than we might have expected.”

             
Leith smiled.  “Y
e
have no idea, Mac.” 

The two h
ad known each other all of the L
aird’s life.  Father MacDonald had advised Leith’s father on many occasions including battles and war tactics, political dealings with the
Q
ueen
, and had even dabbled in the knowledge of the stars.  He was there to help with the healing of the townspeople as
well attending the birth of
Leith himself.  They had a familiarity that was almost familial.

             
“She claims that she is not my intended and that she comes from the future.”  There
…he
said it.  Damn the absurdity of it all.  Even now to his own ears, it was beyond being sane.  He met the astounded stare and open mouth of Mac without wavering. 
“I swear that is what she claims. 
Although she seems quite sane,

he added hastily.
He did not want to put this woman out just because her faculties might be slightly disturbed.

             
Mac looked out the small window he was sitting next to and was thoughtful for a long moment.  Then he turned to Leith and said, “Tell me, in detail, all that she said.” 

When Leith had relayed everything to the old man he sighed.  “And that is all.  I left her in the castle and came here.  What do y
e
make of it all,
Mac
?  I know y
e
have read and reread all of these blasted books that you beseech me to purchase, because I know how y
e
are always thirsting for knowledge.  Do y
e
have any thoughts about this?”

             
The old man ran his hand through his shoulder length white and
wiry
hair.  His
bushy brows formed a frown.  He suddenly raised himself out of his chair with the vigor of a much younger man and walked straight to a book that he pulled off the shelf and opened to a particular page.  After scanning several pages, he exclaimed, “Ah ha!”

             
Leith looked over his shoulder.  Mac turned around and bounced off of him.  “I ha
te it when you do that,” he said bluntly

Leith smiled.  “What have y
e
found?”

             
Mac pointed to a picture in the opened book.  “Did she say the stones looked like this?”  He was excited but tried to hide it.  The woman may have found the missing stones!  This odd woman may be here to fulfill the prophecy from long ago.  He never did quite believe it, but his grandfather had.  He had searched the world, he said, in the hopes of discovering these magical monoliths but had died without ever doing so. 

             

Do
you remember the legend, my boy?  The story that I told you when you were a boy?” 
Leith
shook his head.  “The legend!  The missing stones!  I told you, as I told your father before you when he was a lad, the story of the stones that held such magic, such power as to be able to close the gap between future and the past.  Surely you have not
forgotten?”  He laid a boney
hand on Leith’s arm and squeezed. 

Leith realized that perhaps his old friend was probably more hurt that he did not quite remember the story than anything else.  “I remember, but only vaguely.” 

             
Mac took his seat and motioned for Leith to retake his.  He held the book to his chest as if someone might steal it from him.  His watery blue eyes, much darker in his younger years, stared out the window but went beyond seeing the lush green hillside.  “I will tell you the story again.  Pay attention, my dear boy.  This woman may be the key to our destiny.”

 

             
Leith had known about the legend since he was a child.  It was nothing more than a simple myth told by elders to entertain little children.  He had always know
n
who his father was, that he had married Leith’s mother less than an hour after meeting her and loved her until the day he died, that he, being the
eldest
son of the laird, would follow in his footsteps.  He put his faith in what he knew and could see and could feel.  The legend was none of those things.  He took a deep breath.

             
Mac stared at Leith over the large book.  “You know the prophecy.”  He stated it in that tone that he used when he would catch Leith kissing
a servant girl behind the castle walls.

             
“I know the story.  I do not think it is true
,
however.  Life will not change for Hell’s Gate.  It will remain as it always has.” 

             
Mac rolled his eyes.  “Your father believed it as did your sweet mother.  Things must change, my boy, or this place will die.”
He lowered his eyes.  “As will all those who inhabit it.”

             
Leith
raked his large tanned hand through his dark hair.  He would humor the old man.  “Och, ye old
geezer
.  Fine, then.  What do I do?  She claims not to be my bride.”

             
The priest laughed.  “Well of course she isn’t!  The legend says it is a woman of strange blood, unknown to us, who shall save this place!  Wed her, and do it fast, m’boy.”  He shrugged.  “Besides, I hear tell she has hips for breeding.”

             
Leith
blinked.  He snapped his jaw shut when he realized it had almost dropped.  “A man of the cloth should not notice such things.”  It was almost a growl.

             
Laughter erupted from the older man, pure and rich, filled with the promise of knowledge and experience that only time can bring.  “A man of the cloth, yes, by all means, and thank the dear Lord for it.”  His eyes took on a
mischievous
twinkle.  “
But
a man all the same.”  He winked and continued to smile.

             
Leith
begrudgingly joined in the smile which soon turned into laughter.  “Alright, alright, ye old geezer.  So you think I should marry the wench?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“And soon?”

             
“By all means.”

             
“And when my real fiancé comes to call in a fortnight?”

             
The look that appeared on the priest’s face was, if nothing else, wicked
as he smiled
.  “I am the appointed man of the cloth in this village.  Appointed by the Laird himself and by God.  Once I join said Laird to the woman whom the good Lord has chosen, no man may break that which binds them.”  He looked away and smoothed his sleeve.  “And if it happens to be to someone other than
the
uptight
British woman with whom you entered into a betrothal without my blessing, well, then, so be it.”  He sniffed and sat upright. 

             
“Still miffed about that are y
e
, Mac?”
Leith bit his tongue to stop from smiling.

Leith had decided to marry the daughter of the British lord without heading the
advice of Mac, much to his cha
grin later.  Mac had insisted that he wait but Leith was almost thirty years old and
needed an heir, which meant he needed a wife
.  “If
I waited for ye
to find the right woman for me, I would be a skeleton by the time she arrived.”

             
“If you had waited, like I told you to, you would not be sittin’ here asking an old man to fix yer mess!” he snapped. 

             
Leith raised an eyebrow and resigned himself
, still holding back a smile
.  “My apologies
, old friend
.  Now, you will send the proper documents to Lord Brighton explaining the situation?  Good,” he said, without waiting for an answer.  “Then I shall take my leave.”  He squeezed Mac’s
s
houlder and fairly ran out the door.  That was a can of worms he did not want to open…again.

Chapter 5

             
Raine woke up to a single candle burning in the corner of the room.  For a moment she did not recognize her surroundings but then, like unwelcomed lightening, it all came crashing back.  Every last horrible detail.  Her head hurt from the effort, or maybe lack of sleep, or both.  She rubbed her temples.  What was she supposed to do now?

             
The little servant girl had set up a wooden bathtub for her and a long line of other servants had carried buckets of water to fill it up.  She was feeling rather guilty for enjoying it so much, but she was rather filthy and she welcomed the relief of the hot water soaking into her exhausted muscles.

             
She sensed his presence before the door creaked.  Her eyes remained glued to the door
,
and it was no surprise to her when he walked in. 
The
small flicker of candlelight did little to illuminate his features, but she knew it was him.  He crossed the room and stood at the foot of the bed.
  Her breath caught in her throat until she was forced to inhale sharply. 

             
Leith
stood at the end of the bed, folding his arms across his chest as he contemplated this strange woman.  He knew his true British
fiancée
, Lady Brighton, would be on his keep’s doorstep within a few short weeks.  Should he tell this woman the truth?  No, he thought almost wickedly, not just yet.  Perhaps there is more to her than
what meets the eye
.  It may be a grand adventure trying to find out more about her.

             
“My lady, how was your rest?” 
He
continued to stand there, his face shadowed from her view.

             
She cleared her throat, but her voice was still husky.  “Yes, um,
fine,
thank you.”  She glanced around.  “Is this to be my room while I’m here?”  Hopefully he said no.  Hopefully she would be given someplace to sleep that was as far away from this man as possible.

             
“Yes.”

             
Damn.

             
She fidgeted.  “
Is
everyone else in the house – I mean – um, castle, asleep?”

             
“Yes.”

             
Double damn.  Now no one would hear her scream if this giant tried to harm her.  “So, what are you doing here if it’s past bedtime?”  Why wouldn’t he just leave?

             
His laughter rumbled through the room.  “Lass, I am the laird of this keep.  I have not had a bedtime since I was a very small child.”  He shifted his weight
.  “Do I frighten you?”

             
She laughed an octave too high, waving her hand.  “You?  Frighten me?  Of course not.” 

She walked around the other side of the bed, carefully skirting around him.  “Where I come from, women are strong, independent. We do not frighten easily.”

             
He leaned over the bed toward her, his eyes glowing in the sparse light
looking like a giant cat prowling through the darkness
.  “You look frightened to me.” 

She thought she saw him smile.

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