Reunited (Book 2 of Lost Highlander series)

• 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 22
  
• Chapter 23
  
• Epilogue
  

Reunited
 

By Cassidy Cayman

at
cassidycayman.wordpress.com

Sign up for email updates!

Read the first book of this series:

Lost Highlander

“Lachlan?”

Piper squinted down the dim length of the hallway. She must have finally snapped. It was the only explanation. She missed him so much she was hallucinating his presence on her squirrel infested fifth floor. The longing for it to be true, for him to be up here, caused her stomach to churn with bitter disappointment and embarrassment at her foolishness.

A musty gust of stale air filled the hall when the wall that hid one of the many dangerous secret passageways in the castle creaked open further.

With a groan, he lurched into her arms, fully real, her mountain of a Highlander. He was here. She threw her arms around his neck, gasping back tears of happiness into his solid chest. His head dropped onto her shoulder and she realized something was wrong. He was in her arms, but was still keeling forward. He was definitely going down.

She struggled to support him, and with all her strength managed to get him to the floor without him hurting himself, ducking sideways to avoid being crushed as they both hit the threadbare carpet.

Scurrying to her knees beside him, she ran her hands over his face. He was mud spattered and an alarming bruise blossomed under his left eye. His long black eyelashes rested on his cheeks, almost as if he were just peacefully asleep.

“Lachlan.”

She shook his shoulders. Icy dread settled over her and she felt herself starting to be washed away on a wave of fear. No, she told herself, steeling her muscles and shaking him again. She needed to stay here, be present.

Her best friend Evelyn always thought she was as cool as a cucumber, but the fact of the matter was, if something upset her she drifted away to something else. Most problems eventually took care of themselves or ceased to matter due to the passage of time, especially when she immersed herself in something new and interesting.

But not Lachlan. He was the first man she’d ever truly loved. When she lost him, she felt the loss keenly, barely getting through each day. No matter how busy she kept herself, nothing could distract her or make the pain go away, until she ruthlessly compacted it into a small cold sliver of ice and relegated it to the farthest corner of her heart. Now he was back and he needed her. She couldn’t lose him again.

She patted his cheeks, tears rolling down her face and splashing onto his, causing the dirt to run in little rivulets.

“Lachlan, please wake up.”

She ran her hands down his chest, searching for injuries. A large blood stain soaked his shirt, seeping into his kilt, blending with the deep red of his clan tartan. Yanking his shirt out of his yards of kilt, she found a vicious, jagged wound in his side, under his rib cage. Blood seeped from the gash in what seemed to Piper to be a distressing amount. She began to sob and tore off her yellow cashmere cardigan, holding it against the wound.

 She couldn’t bear to leave him but her phone didn’t get any reception on this floor. With shaking fingers, she took it out of her pocket, hoping for a miracle. No service. It was difficult enough to get a call out when she was downstairs or outside. Being entombed so far up in this pile of rocks was a definite dead zone.

Not for the first time, she cursed herself for not yet hiring live-in help. First thing in the morning she would offer Mellie, her cook and housekeeper, any terms she wanted if she moved in immediately.

Lachlan’s eyes fluttered open and her heart soared with relief. Arranging the sweater against the wound, she hurriedly pressed his arm against it to keep pressure on, and then awkwardly wrapped his kilt around his arm to keep it there.

“My darling Piper,” he said, and she had to bend low to hear him.

Leaning over, she kissed him on the mouth. He was firm and solid and warm. Here.

“I have to go get help,” she said against his lips. “I’ll be right back. Just be still and keep your arm down like I’ve tied it, okay?”

She searched his face, stifling a panicked gasp when his eyes drifted shut again. Should she make a run for it now? She couldn’t stand it if these were his last minutes. No. Stop, she told herself.

“I am so glad I wasna too late,” Lachlan said, cracking his eyes open again, but not seeming to be able to focus on her. “Piper?” he asked urgently, trying to sit up.

“I’m here,” she said, pushing him back down. “I have to run downstairs to get help. You have to be still. I’m leaving but I’ll be back.” She gripped his hand in hers and kissed him once more, and this time he weakly returned it. “Hang on,” she said. “Don’t leave me again.”

“I shall never leave ye again,” he said, then went completely slack.

With tears blinding her, and her furiously beating heart about to climb into her throat to choke her, she raced down the multitudes of stairways in her insanely giant house—the castle she had inherited the year before from her great-grandmother. It was a constant headache, but she was learning to love it.

Bursting into the kitchen, where she always had the best luck with phone calls, she tried to get to her contacts. Her hands were shaking so badly, she dropped the phone and the battery promptly popped out and skidded across the floor.

With a scream of frustration, she dove after it and tried to steady herself while her phone restarted. She had to calm down. She wasn’t helping Lachlan by being a basket case.

Lachlan! He was back. Why was he back? Her head started to spin, and along with her racing heart and shaking hands, she had to force herself to stop asking questions. The whys and wherefores could wait.

“Dr. Stone?” Piper said, when the doctor from the neighboring village answered his personal number sounding groggy. She glanced at the kitchen clock. It was rather late and she grimaced. “It’s Piper Sinclair, er, from the Glen place?” She couldn’t make herself say Castle Glen. She would never be used to it.

“Yes, of course, Piper, I know who you are,” Dr. Stone said, clearing his throat.

Piper held the phone away and groaned. Of course he knew who she was. Not only had he discreetly fixed up Evelyn and Sam after they returned from the eighteenth century with smoke inhalation and knife wounds, but she had recently donated a rather large sum to his clinic.

“Rather late for a social call, isn’t it, lass?” Dr. Stone asked. “Certainly not another stabbing, is it?” He laughed nervously.

Piper burst into tears again, all her forced calm shattered. “Yes, it is another stabbing. Please come as fast as you can!”

***

“My dear, he’ll be fine now that I’ve stitched him up,” Dr. Stone said, patting her tense shoulder as she leaned over Lachlan’s sleeping form.

She jumped at the touch, having almost nodded off to sleep while gazing at him. The strong planes of his face mesmerized her and vacillating between fear and joy had worn her out.

Mellie, who had been Piper’s next call after the doctor, had torn over there, ready and eager to practice her fledgling nursing skills. She had wiped all the dried mud from Lachlan’s face and assisted with the stitching, and was now starting to look like she wanted some answers.

“Both of you girls should get some rest, or at the least, some tea,” Dr. Stone said.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. Can I offer you something?” Piper looked from the doctor to Mellie.

 Mellie blew her off with an eye roll, and Dr. Stone merely snapped his medical bag shut and shook his head.

“I’ll take my leave, and be back in the afternoon to check on our patient. You must call me if anything untoward happens, like a spike in fever, but I do think he’ll be fine. It was a jagged, nasty cut, but not too deep.” He looked at her quizzically and she swallowed.

Even though she would pay well for his silence, she didn’t want him to think regular stabbings were going to be the norm now that she was the owner of the estate. She hiccuped an unhappy laugh as she realized that so far, regular stabbings did seem to be the norm. She took his arm and started to walk him out, trying to think of a good story.

“It’s ... you see …“ she took a deep breath and dove in. “I’ve let some history buffs rent out part of the forest. I, um, thought they were just going to, you know, live out there in a historical manner. No lights or toilets or whatnot.” She glanced at him and he was nodding down at her. “But it seems they took things a bit too seriously and their pretend clans got into a war, with real fighting.”

“Oh, my.” Dr. Stone stopped, his eyes wide. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“Not so badly as the man upstairs,” she said quickly. All she needed was for the doctor to pull a good deed and go looking for injured historical reenactors out in the woods. “A sprain and some bruises, I think.” Oh, why didn’t she shut up? “Anyway, it’s all sorted and I’ve told them they can’t use the property anymore. Most of them have gone.“

She opened the colossal front door and tried not to push him out of it, wanting desperately to get back to Lachlan.

“Well, my dear, you know you can always count on me. I haven’t had nearly so much excitement since you’ve inherited.”

“Thanks,” Piper said. “For coming so quickly. And for, you know.” She shifted her eyes sideways and he winked at her.

“Mum’s the word, as usual.” He actually rubbed his hands together as he walked down the drive to where he’d parked his car.

Piper knew she’d be writing another very large check but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that Lachlan was out of immediate danger.

Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered again that he was truly here. Swiping away more tears, these from relief, she raced back upstairs.

Mellie was waiting in the doorway of the makeshift hospital room, hands clasped and staring at the sleeping warrior in disbelief.

“Is it really him?” she asked.

Piper pushed her way past Mellie and seated herself gingerly on the bed beside Lachlan.

“Yes, of course it’s him,” Piper admonished.

Ever since everything that had happened, Mellie had grown slightly superstitious. She’d started going to church every day and wearing a large pewter crucifix around her neck.

“Don’t you clutch your cross, either, Mel.”

Mellie laughed nervously and came back into the room. “Why did he come back, do you suppose?” she asked.

Piper shook her head and stroked Lachlan’s cheek, tenderly pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. He was still under from the sedatives the doctor had given him, but his breathing was deep and even.

“Does he have his talisman?” Mellie asked. “I didn’t see it when I was helping with the stitching.”

With a look of dawning horror, Piper dug under the sheets they’d draped him in, not having any clothes that would fit him. He should have been wearing a gold disc around his neck, a disc that was stamped with an ancient design.

The last time he’d accidentally been transported through time he hadn’t had it and had become dangerously ill. When Piper discovered it was an amulet of protection, he’d put it on and regained his strength almost instantly.

“Where are his clothes?” Piper demanded.

Mellie ran from the room, returning a moment later with a dirty, bloodstained pile of plaid.

“This is everything. I’m glad I didn’t send it down the laundry chute already,” she said as they searched through the filthy clothing.

“It’s not here,” Piper wailed. “What was he thinking, trying to come back without it?”