Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (10 page)

Sheila smirked.

McKayla couldn’t help but grin.

“I’m quite sure that with Kay’s logical, albeit creative writer’s mind she kept things focused. After all, that would be the most prudent thing to do in light of all we’ve learned,” Leslie said.

“Ah,” Sheila said. “So I suppose you would’ve turned your attention from the kilt and the killer body and of course, the smoking hot chiseled face. After all, a business arrangement must be made when one’s being targeted by thirteenth century Scottish wizard assassins.”

“Are you listening to yourself? A business arrangement?” Leslie paused. “Then again, maybe assassins can be reasoned with. I mean really, who says they might not be interested in letting all this go in light of living a very wealthy life here in the twenty-first century. With McKayla’s book sales we could pay them off. Living here with modern day medicine has to be better than with what they’re dealing with there.”

On the edge of cracking up, McKayla lifted her head and looked at Leslie in amazement.  Sheila was doing the same. She wasn’t actually being serious, was she?

“What?” Leslie asked. “Don’t look so shocked. I’m sure even barbarians can be bartered with.”

Sheila put a hand to her chest. “Who, us? Shocked by something coming out of your mouth? Never.”

“Sheila, enough,” McKayla admonished but couldn’t stop grinning. Leslie had truly lost her mind. “Leslie only has the best intentions.”

“Will you ever get tired of saying that?” Sheila asked.

“Excuse me,” Leslie kicked in. “At least I’ve got her smiling.”

“So it appears.” Sheila shook her head and turned a very concerned eye McKayla’s way. “How are you? Really? Tell us the truth. We’ve been super stressed waiting for Trev, I mean Colin, to talk with you.”

McKayla wanted to say she was doing fine but faced with her two closest cousins she couldn’t lie. “So scared I can’t tell you.”

“Oh honey.” Sheila sidled over and put her arm around McKayla’s shoulders.

Leslie started to pace, her stern eyes narrowed. “I’ve got money saved. We’ll get you protection. Nothing will touch you, not even that stranger you called Trevor. Or the other one you call Seth.”

Both watched Leslie in renewed amazement. They’d never seen her act this way. She was trying her best to form a protective shell around McKayla the only way she knew how. And McKayla loved her for it.

“They’re not strangers, Les,” McKayla assured her, mostly because it felt good to calm down the one cousin that never, ever needed to be calmed down. “It’s okay, we’ll figure this out.”

Leslie continued to pace. “Of course I’ll figure this out.” Then she stopped short, her shrewd eyes locked on McKayla. “But I need to know one thing.”

McKayla nodded. “Sure.”

“Are you in love with him? And I’m not talking about Trevor but Colin. You were in here with him for approximately eighteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds. That, as far as I’m concerned, is more than enough time to figure out love.”

“Was it really that long? Could have sworn…” But the rest of her words were buried in a chuckle which turned to full out laughter that had her holding her stomach.

Exasperated, Sheila wiped a hand over her face and looked at Leslie, repressing her own chuckle. “So in your world, love is figured out that fast, is it?”

Perplexed, Leslie looked at them as though they’d lost it. “Yes, love is figured out that fast. Either you know it or you don’t. Simple as that.”

McKayla’s chuckles subsided as she thought about the first time she met Trevor. How tousled and handsome he’d appeared when he’d stopped to tell her that he could build her a sand-proof laptop. If she didn’t know better she’d have thought the planet stopped spinning the moment he spoke, the very second he’d looked down at her. She could still smell the salty Cape Cod wind. And see every detail of his self-assured, cocky grin.

That singular moment had been the most profound in her life.

“I kissed him,” she said softly. “And it was better than amazing.”

“Trevor? Of course you did. Old news,” Leslie said.

“No. She’s talking about Colin.” Sheila cast a dubious eye Leslie’s way. “And you’re supposed to be the savvy one.”

Leslie sank down on the bed, expression a little too judgmental for McKayla’s taste. “Really, you kissed a man who not only lied to you but put you in danger?”

“Did you see him?” Sheila asked, incredulous. “Besides, we all make mistakes.”

Whether or not they were right, McKayla was growing more and more exasperated. “Granted, this whole situation is way out of control, but kissing him wasn’t a mistake. Yeah, I’m still super mad at him but it’s not the first time and certainly won’t be the last.”

“He ensured that, didn’t he,” Leslie said curtly, “When he wrapped you up in a dangerous situation that only he seems capable of saving you from. I’ve had issues with Trevor since he broke your heart years ago and don’t say he didn’t. I remember sharing ice-cream and cheesy late night movies with you while you tried to hide the tears.” Jaw grinding she said, “Now this. A whole new round of fresh pain.”

Sheila looked sad but said nothing. Obviously she agreed with Leslie.

Angry, McKayla stood. “I need to change. Give me some privacy please.”

“No,” Sheila said, standing as well. “Not this time.” She shook her head. “No avoidance this go around, Kay. Because something tells me your life’s about to become all about confrontation and I’m genuinely worried that it’s going to be in a time and place completely different than this. But what worries me even more is that it seems less and less likely that Leslie and I are going to be there to help you.”

“She’s right.” Leslie took a deep, measured breath. “And though I might not show it I’m frightened. For you, for all of us. What we learned today is…difficult.”

“Difficult,” McKayla whispered. Why then, despite how true their words were, did she feel so calm? Yes, there was fear and confusion. Even blatant rage. Yet somehow despite all that, she wasn’t flying off the handle. She wasn’t trying to hide in a corner. All she really wanted were a few moments alone. Moments, she realized, her cousins wouldn’t give her.

“Okay,” she said firmly as she opened her closet door and pulled out a pair of white shorts and a spaghetti-strapped blue tank top. “I’m changing and we’re going downstairs because we need to have this conversation with everyone.”

“You feel safer talking about it if he’s there,” Leslie stated blandly. “Coward.”

Suddenly furious she whipped around and met her cousin’s eyes. “No actually, the opposite. I’m ready to face this head on and yes, with him there. Not because he makes me feel safer, which he does, but because he’s the only one who can keep things in perspective. This thing that has happened to me might be because of him but rest assured, somehow all of this is meant to be. The house, the book, what we’ve discovered we are…all of it.”

A hint of a smile appeared on Sheila’s lips and she nodded slowly. “You know, Leslie. Maybe she’s right. At least about some of it. This is meant to be.
Has
to be.” She looked at them both. “And at least we were together when we found out.”

“Why aren’t you more upset with him?” Leslie asked Sheila. Then her attention swung McKayla’s way. “And for that matter, you!”

“Oh, I am,” Sheila said. “But what difference will it make right now?”

“Precisely,” McKayla said. After she slid on her shorts and tank, she donned what she hoped was a determined look then tucked her feet into heelless white sporty sneakers. “Yes, me and Trevor…or Colin, whoever he is, have some things to work out but I’m thinking our relationship woes pale in comparison to the bigger plot changes that just literally re-wrote our lives.”

“Plot changes?” Leslie shook her head, grabbed a brush off the dresser and took to styling McKayla’s hair. “Even so, this story’s heroine is acting totally out of character.”

“Any good writer will tell you that the worst thing the heroine can do is not stay consistent with her character,” Sheila agreed, rummaging through McKayla’s make-up until she opted on a light pink glossy lipstick.

McKayla rolled her eyes but allowed Leslie to style. “Actually, the story would be no good without character growth. Which means changes in the heroine’s personality might be a good thing.”

“Would it? I don’t know. I think a good, solid, consistent character is important. There,” Leslie said and pulled away the brush.

McKayla smiled. Her simple hair cut made styling an all but obsolete notion. Leslie had only brushed it out. “Thanks.”

Sheila tugged briefly on McKayla’s shorts. “Based on the clothes you chose, I’m thinking plot changes are taking a backseat to the heroine’s baser desires.”

McKayla eyed herself in the mirror. So, maybe the shorts were a little too short and the tank a little more fitted than what she normally wore. But the day was already proving to be warm and she expected it to get a whole lot hotter. And wasn’t she allowed to take a break from being the  conservative one in the family? Though she doubted anyone would call her mousy, she knew she wasn’t far off. So, yes, consider this a little ‘character growth’ or even ‘out of character’ but today she wanted to be different, just didn’t want to be who she always was.

Then again, as it turned out, she wasn’t who she’d always been after all!

So the outfit and her attitude made enough sense to suit her.

McKayla was about to say as much when a loud crash came from downstairs. The house shook as though it’d been hit by a semi. She ran for the door only to fall back when it swung open and a searing blast of frigid air rushed through the room. In a single moment it became impossible to see or hear anything.

Colin roared.

She cried out, a pain deep and burning gripped her body. There was no making sense of what was happening. Impossible. Too much, too fast. Colors blazed by. The smell of burning sugar filled her nostrils. The ground fell out from beneath her. Petrified, she clenched her body into a ball, squeezed her eyes shut and screamed. As quickly as it started it ended but she couldn’t stop screaming.

“McKayla, ‘tis all right lass. Please, love, you’re okay,” Colin said

“She might be, but you bloody hell are not, lad.”

Opening her eyes, McKayla cringed against the bright sunlight. Confused, she shielded her eyes to find Colin nearby and a tall highlander standing over them. Colin locked eyes with her long enough to know she was okay before he hung his head then looked over his shoulder. “Aye, Da. I’m home.”

Cowal, Scotland

1254

McKayla sat up and slid away from Colin. Though clearly in his later years the other Scotsman was surprisingly fit and while his emerald eyes stared down at Colin with condemnation there was also blatant relief. His sharp gaze shot to her and softened.

He held out his hand. “Come. Stand, lass. I know how jarring this is for you but all will be well. You are on MacLomain land.” When she hesitated he said, “I am Iain MacLomain, Colin’s Da. I mean you no harm.”

Barely able to breathe, she looked from Colin to Iain.

Colin nodded. “‘Tis all right, lass. He is who he says.”

She took Iain’s hand and allowed him to pull her up. Though her legs were wobbly they held. Iain’s hair was white and his frame frailer, but McKayla could see the resemblance between him and Colin. She couldn’t help but stare.

“I am so verra sorry we had to meet like this.” He smiled warmly. “But I cannae tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”

It was impossible not to smile in return. He seemed genuine. And he already knew her. She supposed she should wonder
how
he knew her, but with everything else going on it hardly seemed important. Odds were she’d find out eventually. “Thank you …nice to meet you as well.”

Iain’s smile widened as he studied her. “Aye, indeed.”

His attention turned to Colin when several horsemen broke from the tree line. All wore plaids. All had longer hair. Wide-eyed, she watched them approach. Though she knew she’d traveled back in time, why did she feel like she was dreaming? Maybe she was?

Colin’s posture grew stiff and his hand slipped into hers.

Yank it away? Hold it? It didn’t much matter. She was motionless. Scared and curious, all she could do was gawk.

Most of the horses held back. But four moved forward and surrounded them. Hard eyes assessed them. McKayla counted three men and one woman. Colin pulled her closer as the horsemen bore down. Iain, it seemed, had no intention of calling them off.

Colin eyed them all and nodded but spoke only to his father. “You brought us here now let us go. No harm need come.”

McKayla remained quiet though the others didn’t. Some sniggered, others downright laughed. Colin stiffened, but said nothing, his indifference almost frightening.

“Not the best of greeting’s for your clan, lad.” Iain said. “But I imagine none of us are surprised.”

“I know I’m not,” a red-headed woman scoffed, and then veered her horse closer.

“Even with his life on the line he shuns us. I say let him leave. May no MacLomain protect him,” another said. With almost blue black hair, his features were nearly as striking as Colin’s.

Colin looked up at the man. His gaze narrowed, making him look even more dangerous. “I’m speaking with my Da. If you’ve a need to say your piece, Malcolm, do so like a man, face to face.”

McKayla tried to step back, but Colin wouldn’t let go of her hand even when Malcolm dismounted, and came nose to nose with him. His light brown eyes narrowed. “My Da gave you this clan and you turned it away. You dinnae deserve to step foot here again. You dinnae deserve your Da’s forgiveness.”

The man spoke with such passion that it was impossible not to gape, almost impossible not to agree. This was obviously William’s son. He would rule the MacLomain’s after Colin. And he was pissed.

Not backing down an inch from Malcolm’s confrontational stance, Colin said, “‘Twas never mine to rule, cousin. When I walked away it was with a different heart than I now possess. ‘Twas with a confused soul.” Colin lowered his head but never lost eye contact. “I can only now beg forgiveness.”

Before Malcolm could respond Colin turned his head, looked Iain dead in the eye and continued. “Forgiveness from my Da and Ma.” His eyes traveled over Iain’s shoulder to the horsemen grouped behind. “And from my laird, William.”

McKayla forgot to breathe when all turned deadly silent.

After what seemed far too long a horse cantered forward. This Scotsman seemed sterner than the rest as his silver dusted hair blew in the wind and his unreadable pale gray eyes stared down at Colin. All her senses came alive. Sea salt tainted the air. Sunlight warmed her cheeks despite a cool, crisp wind gusting down from the mountains. Hooves shifted restlessly over dry grass.

Colin stood straighter but never let go of her hand as he looked up. “My laird. I deserve your wrath but hope for mercy, for forgiveness.”

William looked down at him for another long minute before he dismounted. Handsome and as tall as Colin he possessed a strong bearing. Older, perhaps in his late fifties, his tartan was wrapped proud and the notch to his chin even prouder. Based on the look on his face, McKayla suspected this homecoming was bound to go poorly.

She was wrong.

Malcolm was just about to speak when William’s face broke into a wide grin. “I told them from the beginning you were only on a wee bit o’ a journey to find yourself.” He clasped Colin’s shoulders and locked eyes even more securely. “I told them!”

Colin’s hand was yanked from hers when William pulled him in close for a long, heartfelt hug. So strongly did it seem the chieftain felt for him that he clasped the back of his head and didn’t let go until he was good and ready. When at last William pulled back he clasped either side of Colin’s face and laughed, his eyes merry as he again said, “I told them.”

Tension left her shoulders as William released Colin and said to all, “Welcome home Colin MacLomain, our true kin. A man that meant to leave but never really meant to leave at all, aye?”

Iain grinned though strain edged his tired eyes. Malcolm ground his jaw and swung back onto his horse. The others remained silent. No doubt they wouldn’t stay that way long. McKayla guessed the minute each had Colin on their own turf they’d have plenty to say.

Though the chieftain said nothing, his interested wise eyes swept over her and she suspected strongly he’d have words for her later. Not for a moment however, did she think they’d be harsh.

William proceeded to shake Iain’s hand. “‘Twill be a grand celebration this eve, indeed. Your lad is home!”

Iain’s eyes skirted between Colin and William. “Aye, my Laird, Arianna will be most pleased.”

Arianna! She still lived. While McKayla was happy about the news it made the fear she’d felt up until this point seem trivial. Why, she couldn’t be certain.

When William swung back onto his horse and trotted off, most followed. Well, all except for one. She came up alongside McKayla, her savage gaze as harsh as her words. “Let’s see how well ye do here, lassie. Let’s see.”

Even after they all left in a flurry of hooves and dust, Iain remained, his eyes on Colin. She didn’t need to be from this time period to see a father’s sadness. She’d do just about anything not to be here to witness it. The pure heartache Colin had caused was apparent in this highlander’s old gaze. Iain said nothing more, just seemed to soak in the sight of his son before swinging back onto his horse and turning away.

McKayla stood, unable to move, as Iain, like the rest, vanished into the forest. Clenching her teeth, she squeezed her hands and wiggled her toes. Anything she could do to ground herself in this reality. When Colin turned and took her hands, she pulled back. “No.”

Brow lowering he didn’t allow her to flee but grabbed her hand and shook his head. For some reason, the way he looked at her, his pure self-assurance, made her stop short. “Aye, McKayla. You cannae run. I have unintentionally trapped you in a place that willnae make sense to you for some time.”

All of her repressed anxiety released once the threat was gone. There was no way in hell she was going to make this easy for him. So she yanked her hand out of his warm grasp. Good looks and crazy chemistry didn’t make up for all that she’d endured. But damn was the chemistry,
crazy
. Making him suffer a wee bit was not going to be easy. But suffer he would.

Colin didn’t try to take her hand again but stood, legs slightly spread and arms akimbo. He looked at her, with the mountains behind him, and the wind at his back. Now she saw him as he was always meant to be seen…in the Highlands.

“I never,” she whispered then stopped, determined to speak strongly, determined to make sense. With a deep breath she focused on him, not the land around them and certainly not on all she’d just witnessed. She was exhausted and overwhelmed and couldn’t tame her tongue.

“My cousins didn’t like that I kissed you. In fact, they don’t like you at all…Trevor.”

She’d never quite know why she called him that in the midst of what was so obviously not her home or time but she did. Maybe she needed an anchor. Maybe she needed to make sure he was still the guy who helped her celebrate a book release with a kilt-wearing flashlight.

Or maybe she just needed to find out if she was dreaming.

Not moving any closer, voice gentle, he said, “And you said if the sand ruined the laptop then the words you’d written really didnae matter.”

It was clear he wasn’t overly concerned about what her cousins thought of him. No, he was worried about her and understood that she needed time to ease into this reality. If that meant speaking of the past, so be it. If that meant reflecting on a moment she’d spent with Trevor, so be it. Emotion welled up fast but she tempered it. “I spent all of my money on that computer.”

“You said you meant to stop writing once the sun crested. That it was impossible to see what you’d written once it was broad daylight.”

McKayla closed her eyes. “You said that it was probably best that I didn’t see what I wrote. Only the best stories are those that are hidden, even oftentimes from those who write them.” She nodded to herself. “That statement helped fuel my novel.”

He didn’t come to her, didn’t overpower her. When McKayla opened her eyes, Colin looked right back, eyes unwavering, sad, caring. But most of all he looked concerned, even determined. When he spoke it was with patience and respect. “The next move will always be yours, love.”

She shook her head. He lied. “No, it won’t. I’m here when I shouldn’t be. What are you going to do now?”

“Find a way to fix my wrongs,” he sighed. “Find a way to make all this right.”

“How?” she whispered.

When Colin wrapped his arms around her, McKayla didn’t pull away. It was just as Leslie had said. She had no choice but to rely on him. She should push him away. But she couldn’t. Instead, her body betrayed her. She leaned her head against his chest, and when she shook so hard her teeth chattered he held her even closer.

How had it gone so quickly from her searching for Trevor in him, to needing Colin and the safety he offered? Still shaking, her rage grew. She knew how. When Colin trapped her just as Leslie and Sheila had said. Why hadn’t she agreed with them? Was she really as compliant as they thought? None of this was okay and he bloody well knew it.

“No.” She vehemently tried to push him away.

But he didn’t let go. He didn’t budge an inch.

Blood burning beneath her cheeks, McKayla tried to shove away again but he had her locked tight. “No, Trevor. Let me go!”

“Nay,” he said softly, his deep voice rumbling against her cheek. “Never.”

“Never,” she cried and no matter how half-hearted tried to knee him.

He angled away. “Stop, McKayla.” 

Even as she flailed she felt foolish. But she’d been made to feel such! “Bring me home now.”

“Nay.”

“Aye!” She didn’t care if she sounded crazed. She wanted out. This was too much. Suddenly
way
too much.

With a heavy sigh, he said, “Would it help if I looked like Trevor? Would that ease you, lass?”

Would it? But how bizarre would it be to see Trevor
here
? She shook her head. “If I see Trevor…I mean you, I think I’ll probably try to kill him…you. Seriously. I almost think I’m angrier at that version of you.”

“Me too,” he whispered.

She mumbled ‘why’ into his unyielding embrace.

“Because he should have been honest with you from the start. He was the verra mask of my deception.”

“Creative way of looking at it,” she said, calmer by the second. But she felt Trevor inside of him and though they looked nothing alike, the inherent comfort she experienced when with her best friend rose to the surface. As such, she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she thought about what he’d said. “But I tend to blame you. Was Trevor not your ultimate escape?”

Sensing that she’d relaxed; he pulled back and looked down into her eyes. “As always, you’re perceptive to a fault. Aye, I was a coward going there to begin with, but it took more courage than you can imagine for me to stay once I saw you, Kay. For a man who didnae want much to do with commitment, meeting you was a life-changing moment.” His eyes dropped to her lips. “Everything about you made me reevaluate who I thought I was. That says a lot because rest assured, I am…was…amongst the most arrogant and cocky in my clan.”

McKayla couldn’t help but think of the highlander she’d created for her novel. He too had been arrogant, someone she’d never be overly interested in. Until, that is, she developed his character. Strange how that angle of
Plight of the Highlander
bore a strong parallel to what was happening now. Granted, in the story the heroine didn’t travel through time but she
did
have a positive effect on her hero…Colin.