The Highlander's Bargain (7 page)

“Connor, I want to introduce you to my friend. You won’t believe the mad skills he has with that weapon he’s carrying. Robley MacKintosh, this is Connor McGladrey.”

His stance, assessing stare, the width of his shoulders and the condition of his well-toned muscles took Robley by surprise. He recognized a hardened warrior when he saw one. Connor appeared somewhat older than Robley, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. His red hair and beard were neatly groomed and threaded with silver. Robley extended his hand. “’Tis glad I am to make your acquaintance.” They clasped forearms for a second. Robley gestured to his own claymore. “Do you fancy a new sparring partner?”

“Aye.” McGladrey’s eyes lit up. “But first I must fetch my sword. Prepare to be soundly trounced, boyo.”

Robley laughed. “You have the lilt of the Irish.”

“And you’ve the brogue of a bluidy Scott.” He eyed the hilt of Robley’s sword intently, his expression inscrutable. “Wait here.”

He strode up a short flight of stairs and moved behind a counter to a back room, returning just as quickly. This time he held a real broadsword. “Let us move to where we have room to move.” He swaggered off to the center of the indoor lists. Robley and Mark followed.

Robley rotated his neck and shoulders, stretching his muscles in readiness. In Connor McGladrey, he sensed he’d finally found a worthy opponent. He drew his claymore, and they faced off, slightly crouched, loose and battle ready. Robley shifted, first right, then left, taking his weight upon the heels of his feet. He adjusted his grip, balancing his weapon. Everything slid into its proper place.

“Normally, I’d insist you wear protective gear, and we’d use mock weapons,” McGladrey informed him as he paced, running his eyes over Rob. “Liability, ye see.”

“Och. No need. ’Tis unlikely you’ll manage to touch me.” He watched Connor, waiting for the first strike, gauging how the other man moved, how he held himself, which side he favored. Wits and brawn. Their swords rose at the same time, crashing together in midair. The force of the first blow reverberated down his arms. They both backed off. Robley grinned.

The dance had begun in earnest. The next clash involved a series of offensive strikes, advances and defensive feints, forward and back. Robley slid his blade along Connor’s, pivoting as he applied pressure in a circular motion.

Connor laughed aloud. “I’ve not defended against that move since . . .” Shock crossed his face for an instant and disappeared just as quickly. Instead of attempting to parry, he’d allowed his blade to glide into the rotation, effectively thwarting Robley’s attempt to disarm him. Robley’s brow rose, and he bowed his head slightly in respect. Connor was no novice. He faced a true knight of noble blood, judging by the way he carried himself.

Keeping his glare focused upon Rob, Connor initiated a flurry of blows, forcing him back. Robley blocked each swing and shifted into the offensive, gaining ground. They both backed off, circling each other again, swords at the ready, nerves on edge.

“You’re quite handy with a claymore, but no’ nearly as handy as meself,” his opponent boasted.

Robley shrugged, his manner nonchalant. “Come then. Prove it.”

Connor advanced, striking hard, high, low, pivot and thrust. Rob jumped back. They parted, stepping around each other warily, looking for openings, seeking weaknesses. Tension pulsed between them. Determination and battle lust washed through him. Predatory instinct took over, and he moved in for the kill, beating Connor back to the very edge of his limits. In a sudden spurt, Connor came back at Robley, just as determined—every bit as skilled.

Robley laughed aloud. “’Tis good to be alive, aye?”

“Aye, that it is, boyo.” McGladrey nodded. “That it is.”

They continued on for a good while. Robley reveled in the physical exertion, the contest of wills, wit and strength. Equally matched, neither got the upper hand for long; neither gave ground for long. They had an audience. The clanging ring and hiss of steel on steel rent the air, and sweat dripped into his eyes. His muscles were loose, his blood hot, and his lungs worked like a bellows. This is what he lived for. “Had enough, old man?” he taunted.

“Not nearly enough,
laddie
,” Connor taunted back, blocking his attack. “But we need to talk, aye? Pax?”

“Pax.” Robley backed up and touched the flat of his blade to his forehead in salute. He reached for his scabbard, sliding his claymore home. Mark handed him a small white cloth, and Rob wiped the sweat from his face and the back of his neck while catching his breath. “My thanks.”

“That was incredible, man.” Mark followed them toward a door marked “Office.”

“Mark, will you take my place instructing the class while I have a word with our guest? Jerry has arrived. Have him join you.”

“Oh.” Mark’s face lit up. “Sure.” He veered off to take up his role as instructor, his posture a little straighter and his stride a bit longer.

Connor opened the door and waved him in. He placed his sword across a rack hanging from the wall. “What year are you from, Robley of clan MacKintosh?” he asked, sliding behind the desk. He sank into the chair and propped his elbows on the surface. Clasping his hands together, he arched an eyebrow and flashed Robley an arrogant look.

Connor was of noble blood for certes, he thought to himself. “I beg your pardon?” Rob shifted his claymore and took the seat opposite. Heat crept up his neck.

“I know a well-seasoned, blooded warrior when I meet one in the lists, and I’ll wager noble blood runs through your veins. Your sword,” he said, jutting his chin toward Robley’s scabbard. “As sure as I’m sitting here, that blade was made for you centuries ago.” Connor leaned back in his chair, regarding him with steady intensity. “When are you from?”

No wonder he’d recognized a worthy opponent in Connor. He should be more shocked than he was, but True had come through time, as had he. There were bound to be others. “And you? When are you from?”

“The year of our Lord 1299.” Connor shrugged. “I was an arrogant boyo, full of meself, and the heir to a chiefdom. I was out hunting with a group of my friends when I spied a strange woman. Limned in blue fire she was, tall and slender with hair the color of moonlight. None noticed her but me, and I wanted her for meself. I ordered my fellows to continue on and told them I’d catch up with them later.” He grunted.

“Foolishness. I thought to gain her favor or some kind of edge over my fellows, so I followed the faerie. I know that’s what she was. She led me all the way to the hills of Tara. The air around her began to ripple and shimmer. She disappeared. The shimmer remained.” He paused, his expression turning inward. “I went to have a closer look. The next thing I knew, a stranger was shaking me awake where I lay unconscious in the midst of a field of wheat.” He shuddered.

“I’ve not seen the blue-rimmed being since, though for years I searched. I did my best to find a way home.” He shot Robley a pointed look. “That was more than twenty-five years ago.” He slid a picture around for him to see. “I’m married now, with a family. I have two fine sons and a daughter. The laddie who found me asleep in his field took me to his home. I helped the family with farming in exchange for lodging and their help. They secured false documents for me, like a birth certificate and passport. Eventually I married their daughter and started this business.”

“I’m from the year of our Lord 1426,” Robley confessed. He thought better of mentioning his bargain or the crystals. “The same rippling disturbance in the air brought me here. I fell into a lass as I came through. She has taken me in for now.”

“Ah.” Connor nodded. “You need a job, money. Work here, and I’ll pay you in cash until we can get you into the system. My oldest son is off to his first year of college. Though he pitches in as much as he can when he’s home, I could use the help now. My other son has no interest, and my daughter is still too young to work here.”

“Your daughter wields a sword?” Rob blinked.

“Aye.” He barked out a laugh. “Out of the three, she’s the most adept with a sword, dagger and bow. Meghan also studies mixed martial arts. She’s a natural, a wonder,” he said with obvious pride.

“Martial arts?”

“Hand-to-hand combat from the Orient, which is now called Asia, by the way.” He straightened. “I’d like to help you the same way the family who took me in helped me. There are ways to secure a false birth certificate, and with that you can get a driver’s license and passport.” His mouth tightened. “I know you must be missing your kin, but there’s no way back, laddie. Believe me, I tried. Best accept your fate and let it go. The sooner you do, the sooner you can begin building a new life in the here and now.”

“I dinna ken how I’d manage to find my way back to your establishment each day, but I’d like to take you up on your offer. Would I teach sword fighting?” He’d have to remember to ask Erin about “the system” Connor mentioned.

“Absolutely.” Connor stood. “There are buses. We’ll figure it all out, but in the meantime, I want you and your lassie to come to dinner. Meet my family, and we’ll talk about what must be done. They’ll accept your presence without question.” He reached for a small rectangle of paper and a pen. “I’m writing my cell phone and landline numbers on the back. Talk it over with . . . What’s your lassie’s name?”

“Erin Durie.”

“Aye?” His eyes widened. “I know Erin. Years ago, my wife and I started a reenactment organization to preserve the history and way of life from my time. Erin has been a member for at least five years now. This is good. She’ll be a great help to you.” He handed him the bit of paper.

Robley glanced at it before tucking it into his pocket. “It almost seems as if . . .”

“Like your coming here and meeting Erin was meant to be?” Connor’s wry grin hit home. “That’s exactly how I felt once I’d accepted what happened. I fell in love with my sweet Katherine the moment I laid eyes on her. I was but ten and five, and she but ten and four. I resisted the attraction until I could fight it no more, because I wanted to return home. I’m happy. Content. You will be too.” He came around the desk and put his hand on Robley’s shoulder for an instant. “Give it time, laddie.”

After hearing Connor’s tale, Robley didn’t have the heart to tell the man he had a way to return and planned only to be in this era or time for a short while. Connor hadn’t had a choice in the matter, and he didn’t want to upset him. “My thanks. I’d best return to Erin’s before she arrives home. I wouldn’t want her to believe I’ve disappeared.” Plus, he wanted his first lesson on Mark’s Harley.

“Do that. Call me once you’ve discussed things with Erin. It’ll be good for her to know you aren’t the only man to fall through time as you did.”

“I will.” He left Connor in his office and crossed the indoor lists for Mark. The group had dispersed, and Mark was deep in conversation with Jerry.

“Are you ready to go?” Rob asked, nodding a greeting to Jerry. He finally realized they weren’t knights, but “reenactors.” Pretenders. The concept made him want to shake his head, but he refrained.

“Sure.” Mark shrugged. “But we never did get a chance to spar.”

“Another time. Connor offered me work. I’ll be spending quite a bit of time here.”

Jerry’s gaze swung from the young lady he had his eye on to Rob. “Wow, that’s great. I’d love to take lessons from you.”

“Me too, and it makes sense,” Mark added, with a thoughtful expression. “You fight like you’ve done it for real.”

“I have done it for real, and for my life.” Rob shot him a challenging look.

“Yeah, right,” Mark quipped. He and Jerry laughed as they made their way to the door.

“’Tis the truth.” Robley pushed the double doors open with some force, relishing the crisp, fresh air greeting him. “Now about that Harley—where might I find one for myself?”

CHAPTER SIX

E
rin locked her car door and hurried into her apartment building. Poor Robley. He’d been alone all day and must be bored out of his mind, not to mention baffled by everything that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours. After a quick shower and a change out of her scrubs, she’d take him out for Thai food and a 3-D movie. She couldn’t wait to see how he reacted to both. Hopefully she could find an action flick he’d enjoy, or maybe something animated. Would he go for a kid’s movie? She glanced at her watch—almost three thirty. Maybe they could walk around Lake Nokomis before dinner. He was probably used to a lot more activity.

She opened her door . . . and found her apartment empty. Her stomach dropped. Disappointment brought a sudden sting to her eyes. “Robley?” she called, moving through the apartment, knowing full well she wouldn’t find him. A quick check of his room confirmed her worst fears. He’d disappeared. Maybe he’d been returned to his own time. She wandered back to the living room. A book lay open and facedown on her coffee table. Drawing closer, she glanced at the title. And the cover. She snatched it up and slammed it shut.
Yikes
. What must he think? Had her erotica sent him fleeing back to his own time?

Her apartment door opened. She swung around with the book still in her hands. Robley strode in, all lit up with excitement like a neon light on steroids. His hair was a wild, tangled mess, and the boundless joy and excitement pulsing from him stole her breath. She scowled. “Where have you been?”

He glanced at the book in her hand, met her eyes and flashed her one of those double-dimpled, sexy grins. Her face heated. “This book is not mine.” She tossed the paperback onto the couch like it burned her fingers. “I’ve had a few roommates. One of them must’ve left it.”

“Aye? Well . . . judging by the color blooming upon your cheeks, you
must’ve
read it.” His gaze traveled all over her, pausing at her chest, then sliding to her mouth. He arched an eyebrow and met her eyes again. “Did you no’?”

She cleared her throat, embarrassment gripping her. “Are you really reading it?”

“I am, and you’ve just lost my place,” he complained, picking it up and flipping through the pages. “’Tis . . .
it’s
quite . . . instructive. Enlightening. Truly enlightening.”

She swallowed her gasp, and more heat suffused her. Only this time, the rise in temperature headed in an altogether different direction. “Where have you been, and what happened to your hair?”

He set the novel back on the coffee table. “Riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle,” he said, his tone filled with reverence. “Is there a way to find out how much money is left on True’s debit card?”

“Why?” She blinked, her head spinning.

“I want a
Harley
.”

His tone when he said the word
Harley
was so little-boy-at-Christmastime, she laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Kidding?”

“Surely you jest,” she replied, slipping into his mode of speech.

“Nay, er . . . no. Mark taught me how to drive his bike, and I desire one of my own. Now that I have work, I’ll need transport to and from.”

“Wait. What?” Stunned, she dropped to the couch and stared at him, totally dumbfounded. “I . . . I came home to an empty apartment, and . . . I thought you’d gone back to your century.” The sting in her eyes defied explanation. She blinked it away and bit her lower lip. “You’ve been here one freaking day. Twenty-four hours. One. Day.” She shook her head. “Are you telling me you have a . . . a
job
? You spent the day reading erotica, riding a Harley and looking for a
job
?” she managed to squeak out.

“This is my second day, lass, and I did not leave you,” he said softly.

“Well, obviously. Not that it matters one way or the other.” She shot up from her place and headed for the hall, or the hills, whichever came first. “What’s with the modern-day speech all of a sudden?”

“This is a modern-day world. I’m simply trying to fit in.”

“
’Tis
a modern-day world. I liked the ’
tis
es
and the ’
twould
s
.” She stomped down the hallway. “I’m gonna take a shower. I need a few minutes to . . . adjust. Do
not
leave this apartment.” The low, sexy rumble of his laughter skipped down her spine, leaving delicious shivers in its wake. She blew out a breath, grabbed her robe from the back of her bedroom door and crossed the hall to the bathroom. “You need to do anything in here before I shower?”

“I’m fine, babe.”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling.
The book
. He’d gotten that from the book. She might have to pack ’em all up and stow them in the basement. “My name is not
babe
,” she called out before slamming the door on another sexy chuckle. Why the heck was she so upset?
Because you thought he needed you, that’s why. And clearly he does not.
“It’s fine. I’m glad he’s independent. This just frees me up to concentrate on school and my own life,” she muttered to herself.

She twisted her braid on top of her head, fastening it with a clip, and stripped out of her hospital scrubs. Turning on the water, she waited for the hot to kick in. For all she knew, Robley already had plans for the evening and wouldn’t want to go to the movies and dinner with her. She hadn’t brought it up.

Erin stepped into the shower and let the hot water ease her tension enough so that she could think. Robley of clan MacKintosh was just one surprise after another. How could he have a job? He didn’t have a social security number or ID of any kind. Come to think of it, he was in the United States illegally. Besides that, why would he want a job when he only planned to stay for a month tops? She rinsed quickly, shut off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack. They hadn’t discussed money recently. Did he want to work because he feared he didn’t have enough to pay for his room and board?

She didn’t feel like reapplying her makeup, or going out for that matter. Things were all jumbled inside her, leaving her off-kilter. The disappointment she’d experienced when she thought he was gone for good was a warning.
Don’t get attached. Don’t think he needs you
,
and for heaven’s sake, don’t begin to need him!

Pregnant women and their babies needed her. Wrapping herself up in her career worked for her, and that had to remain her focus. Erin slipped into her robe and crossed back to her room. She unclipped her hair so that her braid fell down her back. Then she rummaged through her dresser for something to wear.

Dressed in a dark-green Henley and blue jeans, she padded barefoot back to the living room. Robley sat on the couch, her erotic romance novel in front of his face.
Gah!
“How could you have a job, Robley? You’re not even in the system.”

“Explain the ‘system’ to me, lass.” He set aside the book and patted the couch beside him. “This is no’ the first I’ve heard of it this day.”

She shrugged. “It’s the way our government keeps track of its citizens. When you’re born, you get a birth certificate and a social security number. Then, when you get older, those are the documents you need to hold a job and get a driver’s license. You can’t just drive a Harley around. You need a license and insurance.”

“Insurance?” His brow furrowed.

“It’s complicated, like the biggest Ponzi scheme ever, but you have to have it.”

“Ponzi scheme?”

Sighing, she sat beside him and put her feet on the coffee table. “That’s not important right now.”

“Your feet are bare.” His gaze fixed on them.

“So? You’ve never seen bare feet before?”

“Not yours.” He slid her a lopsided grin and winked. “They’re quite lovely.”

Her insides melted. She tucked her feet up on the couch. “The job. Tell me about the job.”

“Aye, we need to talk.”

Adrenaline shot through her. Heart racing and mouth dry, she nodded.
This is where he tells me he’s going to go stay with Mark, Jerry or whomever
.

“You know Connor McGladrey?”

“Sure.” She frowned.

“He’s from the past, sent here in much the same manner as Lady True, only by accident rather than by design.”

“Get out!”

He stood abruptly, hurt and confusion wafting from him. His face clouded. “I meant no offense, but if it pleases you, I’ll leave.”

“Oh. No. Sorry.” She tugged at his sleeve. “Sit back down. ‘Get out’ is just an expression of surprise. I wasn’t telling you to leave.” His relief swamped her. She’d done a fairly good job of tuning him out, but when he had such strong reactions, it was impossible.

“That makes no sense at all,” he muttered, taking his place again.

“There are a lot of things that make no sense,” she agreed. “Like people traveling through time. When is Connor from? How’d he get here? How’d
you
get here, for that matter?”

He shared what Connor had told him, and Erin took it all in, wondering how many people from the past or future might be lurking around her neighborhood. “OK, but you came on purpose, and you plan to go back. Connor is stuck. You’re not. How is that possible?”

“I formed a bargain with the same faerie who sent True to us. She gave me two tokens for my passage. One I used to get here; the other is for my return.”

Her treacherous heart wrenched at the “for my return” part. “What kind of token?”

“Do you wish to see it? ’Tis a crystal.”

She thought about what she knew of Connor and his family. So much made sense about the McGladreys now. It had been Connor and his wife who had started the reenactment group, and she knew he owned the fencing club. He’d managed to carve out a niche for himself in the present. She’d met his children at several club events. Connor made a good living and supported a family. Robley could do the same. He could make a life here—if he wanted.

She shook herself free of the notion. Wouldn’t happen. “Yeah, show me this token of yours.”

Robley reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. He placed it on her lap. “This is how I’ll return to my time, lass.”

She tugged the drawstrings open and dumped the crystal into her palm. “Jeez, do you have any idea what this is?”

“A crystal of some sort.”

“It’s an uncut diamond, and it’s huge.” Turning it over, she studied the gem resting in her palm. “I took a class in geology when I was in high school. My teacher had one, but his diamond was very small and of poor quality.” She held it up between her thumb and a finger. “This has got to be at least ten to fifteen karats. It’s worth a fortune.” She slid it back into the pouch and handed it to Robley. If he stayed, he’d certainly have a nice little financial cushion to start with, without having to do anything but find a buyer. “You had two of these? Did you tell Connor?”

“Nay. I did no’ want to upset him. He’s settled, happy, and he has a wife and family. Best no’ stir the pot, as True would say.”

“I agree.” Rubbing both her palms along her jeans, she scrambled to pull all the facts together. “So, I’m guessing Mark took you to play with swords today. You met Connor. He saw you in action and offered you a job. He intends to pay you under the table, and by
under the table
I mean in cash.”

“Aye.” He slid his arm around her shoulder and squeezed the
steady
right out of her heartbeat. “You are a canny lass.”

“And now you’re jonesing for a Harley.”

He chuckled, giving her another heart-stopping hug. “If by
jonesing
you mean I want one of my own, then aye. I’m jonesing for a Harley.”

Lord, he smelled good, and man, did it feel wonderful having his arms around her. He took his arms back, and she felt deprived, achy. She always felt too much, and it had always been her cross to bear.

“Connor wants us to come to dinner soon. He can help me get into the system, with a birth certificate, driver’s license and anything else I need.”

“Why would you want all of that if you intend to leave after a month?” She shot off the couch, heading for the kitchen. “More than likely it’ll take longer than thirty days to pull everything together.” She stopped, turning back to throw her hands up in the air. “Who spends upward of ten thousand dollars for a motorcycle they’ll only own for a few weeks?”

“Mayhap I’ll stay longer.”

And there went the floor from under her feet. “I don’t feel like going out tonight. Is it all right with you if we stay in?”

“’Twould be delightful to stay in with you tonight, babe.”

A little too close to hysteria, she stifled the laugh bubbling up her throat. A fifteenth-century knight was living with her in her apartment, reading erotica and calling her babe. Impossible. Incredible. Mind-altering and heart-threatening, this gorgeous man was turning her life upside down. “I’m going to take you to a Harley Davidson dealer on my day off. We’re going to buy you an official black leather Harley jacket complete with a big fat logo embroidered on the front and the back. What do you think of that?”