Highland Passage (4 page)

A soft mist fell as trees whispered of rain, and the scent of the earth and damp stones rose up and hung in the air. Lifting her face to the sky, Mac breathed it all in as the cool mist soothed her face. But dark clouds rolled in overhead. If she left now, she might make it home merely damp before the sky opened with rain. David rode past on his bike, unaware that she was there. She sighed and then felt guilty for being relieved that he had not seen her. She wanted just a few more moments alone with her memories of Ciarán.

David Kowalski taught fifth-grade science at the school where Mac worked. He was also her friend. At times Mac wondered if he might wish for more, but they had never broached the subject of feelings. He used to stop by her house for coffee on Saturday mornings, but he had not been by in some time.

Shadows of thickening clouds draped themselves over the trees as Mac gathered her bag and water bottle. Sunlight peeked through a small gap in the clouds and shone into the stone chamber, but Mac didn’t notice as she briskly brushed the dirt from her jeans. Once finished, she indulged in one last gaze into the stone chamber, where a faint light now broke through. The back wall faded like a morning mist and lifted to reveal the same scene she had seen behind Ciarán when he disappeared. From the clearing mist, a man appeared, facing the opposite direction of her. He wore plaid.

“Ciarán!” Mac called and stepped closer. He turned. For a moment they stared, with the same stunned expression. He walked through the mist toward her until it was clear that it was not Ciarán at all. His hair was lighter but darkened by rain, and uneven stubble dappled his leathery face. He reached out, gripped her arm tightly, and pulled her inside. Mac fought him, but he was ruggedly built, with a feral smell of earth, body, and blood that assaulted her senses.

He gave her arm a painful yank, jarring a clump of hair free from its clip. By reflex, she reached up and caught hold of her hair clip. With all the force she could muster, she jabbed it in his face. He cried out a curse but held onto her with one arm and yanked her closer. A shiver of an electrical current passed through her to him, and he shuddered. Unable to pull herself free, Mac leaned the full weight of her body away from her attacker. In doing so, her foot slipped on the loose stones. She stumbled, and the force of her fall pulled her free. She reached out to break her fall and barely missed a small rock on the ground. She grabbed hold of the rock and started to scramble toward the mouth of the chamber, but a hand clamped around her ankle.

Mac screamed and rolled over, jabbing her boot heel at his groin, squarely striking her target. Her attacker paused in his tracks, long enough for Mac to land another strong kick that threw him off-balance so that he staggered back into the stone wall behind him. Except he did not fall against it. He dissolved and went through it.

Mac lay stunned for a moment. Fearing that he might return, she pulled herself up and ran out of the stone chamber and back to her house. She drew near the porch steps and flinched at the sound of a voice.

“Out running already? Well, aren’t you the early bird?”

“David?” she panted, her heart still pounding with lingering fear.

David rested comfortably in an old wooden porch chair. “The sun’s barely up.” He rose long enough to pull a coffee from the cup holder clamped to his bicycle handlebars. When he first got it, they had laughed about the extra geek factor it gave him; all he needed to complete the picture was some plastic streamers on his handlebars.

Mac was not laughing now at the image. With a furtive glance back toward the stone chamber, she took the coffee and thanked him.

“What happened to you?” He stared at her forearm, which was already showing signs of emerging bruises.

Mac looked at her arm and tried to shrug it off, but it was hard to ignore. “It must’ve happened when I fell earlier.”

“You fell? How?” He examined her arm, looking doubtful.

Mac shrugged again. “Running.”

“In the woods? You weren’t on the road; I came from the same direction.”

Mac glanced around. “Yeah, I like nature. So what’s in the bag?”

David pulled a bagel from the small paper bag in his hand and offered it to her.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“Not hungry?” David chuckled. “I don’t know what that is.” He was baiting her now; he knew how she hated the way he could eat all he wanted and not gain an ounce. He grinned, expecting a reaction.

Mac tried to smile back, but her stomach was churning. A ferocious Highlander had just attacked her. Her heart had not yet stopped hammering in her rib cage. No, she was not hungry.

“Here, you can save it for later.” He took a bite of his bagel and offered the bag to her. “There’s another for you in the bag.”

Mac set the bag down on the porch rail and then sipped the warm coffee while awkward silence hovered between them.

“David, why are you here?” She had not meant to be blunt, but she was too shaken for small talk.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“David, no one’s just in the neighborhood here. I live in the woods on the side of a mountain.”

He smiled. “Busted. I was worried about you.”

“Worried? Why?”

“I don’t know. Lately, you’ve seemed a bit off.”

“Off?” If “off” meant gone mad—well, then yes, she was a bit off. She had lost the only man she might ever have loved, and mere minutes ago, she had fought off a feral time traveler who had leapt out of the chamber and sent him packing. Her heart sank as she realized that, in her frantic need to escape her attacker, she had missed a chance to pass through the chamber to Ciarán’s time. She must have gasped in dismay, for David was eyeing her with alarm.

“Mac?” He touched her shoulder. When she flinched, he let go immediately.

Mac’s attention shifted down the road to the sunlight that now brightened the trees on its way to the stone chamber. “Look, David. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.” She thrust the coffee cup at him and turned, leaving him standing agape, coffee in hand, as she trudged down the road toward the stone chamber.

“Mac?” Met with silence, he called out again and followed her. “Got to go where? Got a date with a fox?” He laughed at himself.

Without turning, Mac said, “Sorry. I can’t explain now.”

Several minutes later, she reached the chamber. She went inside and turned back toward the sunlight. David caught up to her at the entrance.

She swatted at him. “Move, David. You’re blocking the sun.”

“What?”

“Just wait out there.” When he failed to move, Mac added, “Please?”

He thought she was nuts. It was all over his face. But he did as she asked and moved out of sight, to the side of the entrance. Mac stood inside the stone chamber, facing out toward the sun, and waited. She glanced over her shoulder but saw only stone. Still, she waited. The warmth of the sun washed her face in light. David peeked around the corner, but she gave him her stern teacher face, and he pivoted back. She shut her eyes and tried to remember what Ciarán had done before he vanished. But he had not done anything except stand there. He had held his palm out to stop her, and something electric happened. He had not been surprised. He had known it was coming. Clearly he had done it before. She remembered the sensation—like an electrical tingle. She felt none of it now, and the light gave way to thick clouds.

David flinched as she emerged from the chamber. “C’mon, let’s go warm up that coffee.”

Ignoring his wrinkled brow, Mac started back toward the road.

Minutes later, they were at her kitchen table, hot coffee in hand. David leaned his lanky frame back and propped his feet up on the chair beside him. “So, Mac, do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“No.” She got up to refill the small pitcher of cream even though it did not need refilling.

David quietly watched her. As Mac sank back down into her chair, he said, “I may just be a science nerd, but I see what you’re doing.”

“Avoiding your questions?” She looked at him frankly. It took effort to seem this nonchalant.

David nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Mac flashed a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Well, good. So that’s settled.”

“Not quite. About the stone chamber…”

“What about it? It’s stone. It’s a chamber.” Her glib attitude only made her appear less at ease.

“But you went inside it.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because it was there and I felt like it.”

Unconvinced, David stared at her and folded his arms. A long and uncomfortable silence followed.

Mac heaved a sigh. “Look, David, there was a reason, but I’m not going to discuss it. Okay?”

He searched her eyes. To her credit, she met his gaze directly.

“Okay. Fair enough. But I’m worried about you.” He grew quiet as he watched her slowly circle a spoon through her coffee. “Your hands are trembling.”

She let go of the spoon so that it clinked against the cup and reflexively clutched her hands in her lap.

David continued, “Mac, something’s wrong. I don’t want to pry. I just want to be a friend and help you if I can.”

She could not let him see how his concern not only moved her but also made her want to confide in him. She was bursting to talk to someone about her bizarre experiences, which was exactly what she could not do. It would just make things worse. Not only would he not believe her, but he would think that she’d lost it. No, she could not tell him, now or ever.

“David, you are my friend. And you’re right. There is something, but it’s nothing to worry about. Really.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table, looking at him conspiratorially. “I’ve met someone.” She shrugged and offered a guilty smile.

“So you’ve met someone. Good. And because of this someone, you had to rush over to the stone chamber to…what?”

Her eyes widened. To avoid his uncomfortable gaze, Mac went for the coffee pot and refilled his cup, giving her time to think.

“Meditate.”

David grimaced. “I’m sorry. Let me get this straight. You’ve met someone, so while we were talking, you had to make a quick dash down the road to meditate.”

Mac tried to act as though this made perfect sense. “Yes. He—my man—suggested I meditate. I told him how stressful it is working with children, so he told me to try it.” She exhaled, feeling pleased with herself.

“In the stone chamber?”

Mac nodded, now committed to her story, no matter how lame it might sound. And it did. But she soldiered on. “Sensory deprivation.” She lifted her brows and gave a knowing nod. “Makes it easier to focus.”

Now slack-jawed, David stared in disbelief for a moment and then relaxed. “I get it. You know, you could have just told me you don’t want to talk.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She wanted to reassure him, but how? Nothing about it made sense. “Look, I’m fine. And I think it’s very sweet of you to worry about me.”

“Yeah, sweet. I get that a lot.”

His smirk made Mac smile. “Aw, David. You’re such a good friend.”

He nodded. “Just don’t punch my shoulder and tell me what a great pal I am. Oh, wait, you practically did that already.”

Mac grinned. “I promise not to punch you.” She gave him a pat on the arm and then stood up.

Seeing his cue, David rose and moved toward the door. “If you need anything—”

“I’ll text you. But I won’t need to, because I’m fine.” Her warm smile was almost convincing.

David paused in the doorway for one last probing gaze before he gave up with a sigh and turned toward the door. “You know how to reach me if you need to.”

“I do. Thank you, David,” she called out as he got on his bike.

After he had gone from sight, Mac let out the breath she had been holding. Once inside, she flopped onto the sofa and gave free rein to her warring emotions. Every morning since she had lost Ciarán, she had wanted to find a way to him, but every day had been the same; it was not meant to be. She had finally concluded that only he could travel through time to find her. She had nearly given up hope of going to him until this morning. If another Highlander had found his way here by what seemed like mere chance, it seemed at least possible that someone else might go through the stone chamber as well. She would be that someone.

4

Sometime in Winter

Ciarán MacRae leaned his head back against the stone wall. He supposed he ought to feel lucky that it was not a dungeon, but he was locked in a castle tower room with no sign of impending release. A chill wind whistled through the gaps in the wrought-iron window frame, coating the walls with a thin layer of frost—the only thing that seemed to thrive in this place. The dark room had been his home for weeks. Porridge and water sustained him, but the memory of love drove him to stay strong just to see her again.

He had been coming home from Mac’s world through the stone wall of the chamber when he found himself in the midst of Clan Ross men. When a MacRae landed in their midst, they took it as an attack, and so they seized Ciarán as a prisoner. Luckily they had been spying on the castle and thus had not seen him come through the stone wall behind them. Had they seen such a magical display, they would surely have killed him by now.

Few men knew firsthand about the power of stones. Scattered over Scotland were stone chambers—doorways through time that Ciarán’s father and his father before him had spoken of in hushed tones. They had taught Ciarán their ways and about the dangers that one could encounter. Certain chambers had long been destroyed because of the peril that lay beyond. Those that remained were a secret his family had guarded carefully.

Stones. The only stones he saw now were the walls of his room, and they held no magic. He tried to keep track of the days, but what good would it do? Locked in here day after day seemed to render time of little use as a measurement tool. All that mattered was Mac. Would she think of him? Yes, he believed that she would for a time. But they had known one another for mere hours. The memory would fade, and she would one day forget him. How much time might pass until then? That time may already have come.