The Highlander's Bargain (9 page)

Grinning, he reached out and used the knocker on the McGladreys’ door. A young girl with a smartphone in hand answered. Mayhap she was ten and five or six years old, and she had her father’s reddish-gold hair and freckles, but where Connor’s eyes were blue, his daughter’s eyes were a dark brown. Robley bowed. “You must be Meghan.”

“That’s right, and you must be the fifteenth-century knight my dad told us about.”

“I am. Robley of clan MacKintosh at your service, lass.” He gestured toward Erin. “This is my lady, Erin of clan Durie. Our thanks for your hospitality.”

Meghan rolled her eyes and opened the door wider, ushering them inside. “My parents are in the kitchen. This way.” She led them toward the back of the house.

“Smells good in here,” Erin said.

“Mom made her famous pot roast. It’s Dad’s favorite.”

They entered a large, bright kitchen. Connor stood at the counter, knife in hand and a pile of vegetables before him. “Robley, Erin, welcome. This is my wife, Katherine.”

“Call me Kathy.” A tall, fair lass glanced at them from her place by the stove. “It’s good to see you again, Erin, and it’s amazing to meet another man from the Middle Ages.” She cast him a welcoming smile. “I’m sure this has been quite an adjustment for you. Meghan, take over making the salad for your dad. Connor, would you get our guests something to drink?”

“Of course.” Connor handed the knife to his daughter and moved out of the way. “Ale or wine?”

“Ale, if you please.” Robley took off his hooded sweatshirt and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

“As promised, here’s dessert.” Erin placed her container of cookies on the counter. “I’d love a glass of wine. Whatever you have handy is fine.” Shrugging out of her jacket, she turned to Kathy. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope. Meg and I have it covered, and the dining room table is already set. I know there are things Connor and Robley need to discuss, and since it involves you, you should be there.”

“Follow me.” Connor handed them their drinks and beckoned them to follow. He opened a door next to the one leading to their attached garage. “My wife calls this my man cave.” Connor switched on an overhead light. “When our children were small, we had this area set up as a playroom, but now that they’re mostly grown, it’s my space.”

They descended into a finished room in their basement. Antique swords of all sizes and styles had been mounted on one wall, and a set of armor stood on a stand in the corner. A large desk sat opposite the armor, with a laptop similar to the one Lady True had shown him.

“Is this the armor you wear when jousting at the Renaissance festivals?” Erin walked over and ran her hand over the shiny metal.

“It is. Because of his skill and they way he goes about his craft, I suspect the blacksmith who makes the reproduction chain mail, armor and weaponry is also from the past, but he won’t say for certain.” Connor took a seat behind his desk and booted up his computer. “First and foremost, you’ll need a birth certificate, Robley. It’s best to stick as close to the truth as possible. Have a seat.”

Robley twined his fingers through Erin’s, pleased beyond measure when she didn’t pull free, and led her to the lone leather couch. He drew her down beside him, keeping her hand in his. He set his ale on a small table beside him. “What do you need from me?”
“Your date of birth, or as close to it as possible, and the location. Once we have your birth certificate established, we’ll work on a passport and green card.”

“Green card?”

“You’re in this country illegally. A green card is like permission to be here for a specific period of time,” Erin told him. “In fact, you don’t really exist at all in terms of a paper trail. It’s weird to think about.”

“I see. I was born in the spring, the tenth day of May, 1402, at Meikle Geddes.”

“Huh. I’m older than you.” Erin’s mouth quirked up.

“Hardly. At present, am I no’ six hundred and eight? How old are you?”

“That just blows my mind. You’ve only been alive for twenty-four years, but you were born so long ago.” She laughed. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Let’s get this done. Dinner will be ready soon.” Connor glanced at them. “Father and mother’s names, birthdates and places of birth?”

Robley gave him all the information, and Connor entered it into the computer. “With this, we can have a birth certificate and a Scottish passport created. I’ll need to take your picture tonight, and then I’ll send the information to the man I know who does this sort of thing. It’s going to cost you. I can lend you the money against your wages if you wish.”

“Nay, er . . . no. I have the funds.”

“How?” Connor’s brow rose. “Didn’t you say you just came through a few days ago?”

“From me.” Erin tightened her grip on his hand. “We’ve already agreed that I’ll give him the money, and he’ll pay me back once he’s earning a regular paycheck.”

Robley arched an eyebrow at her.

“Hmm. That reminds me, do you want a fake marriage license and certificate? It would be easier for Rob to become a citizen, if he wishes to remain in the United States, that is.”

Erin’s face turned a lovely shade of pink. Rob slid his arm around her shoulders. “I like the idea. What say you, lass? Will you do me the honor of becoming my pretend wife?”

“I don’t like the idea at all.” She shot him a mutinous glare. “All of this is completely illegal, and I’m not sure I want to get messed up in all these false documents.”

“It’s not Rob’s fault he’s been displaced,” Connor said. “He doesn’t exist at all in this century. What we are doing is not the same as stealing someone’s identity to engage in criminal behavior. We’re simply moving him from his time to ours. Since he’s not stealing the birth certificate of anyone living or deceased from our time, it’s unlikely anyone will discover the documents are false. The information he’s giving is true and not stolen. It’s just from a different time.” Connor leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a hard stare.

“What do you expect him to do, lassie? He needs to build a life. A man needs to make a living if he wants to support himself. He’ll want to support his family should he choose to have one. Would you rather condemn him to a half-life on the fringes of society?”

“Aye, lass,” Robley agreed. Erin flashed him another scowl.

“Dinner is ready,” Katherine called from the top of the stairs.

“We’ll finish later.” Connor rose from his place behind the desk. “My wife’s pot roast is best when it’s consumed right from the oven.”

“We’ll be along anon. Erin and I have a few things to settle.” Robley tightened his grip on her hand. “I want a few words with my wife-to-be.”

“Good idea.” Connor looked from Rob to Erin and back to him. “Don’t be too long.”

He waited until Connor closed the door at the top of the stairs before turning to her. “Why did you say you’d lend me the money? I have plenty.”

“I know, but you said you didn’t want to tell Connor you had a way back. How would you have explained the debit card and cash without making it clear you planned this little holiday to the future? Wouldn’t that lead to the logical assumption that you have a way to return?” She shrugged. “It just seemed simpler to say I’m floating you the loan. He doesn’t know anything about my personal situation.”

“Ah, I take your meaning.” He rubbed his chin. “My mistake.”

“I don’t normally lie, Robley, and I’ve never broken any laws.” She shook her head. “I am not agreeing to a fake marriage. There’s no need.” She lifted her chin a defiant notch. “I don’t really see why you want any of this fake documentation anyway. You’ll be leaving soon.” She shot off the couch, but not before he glimpsed the hurt in her eyes. “Let’s go eat. It’s rude to stay down here when we’ve been invited to dinner.”

She clomped up the stairs, wineglass gripped in her hand, and he was left wondering what upset her the most: believing that he would leave her soon, or the deceit involved in creating a false paper trail of his existence? Judging by the way she’d reacted on Monday when she’d thought him gone for good, he chose to believe the former.

He knew her father and stepfathers had let her down, leaving her all too soon, and he understood the source of her anxiety. Recognizing the source provided him with a problem to fix, and fix it he would. Grinning like a fool, he followed her.

Robley ran his hand over the sleeve of his brand-new black leather Harley Davidson jacket and glanced at Erin. She wore hers as well, carrying the jackets they’d walked in with in a bag slung over her arm. He took the bag from her while she handed the man behind the counter True’s debit card. Their new jackets were identical, with one orange and one white stripe on the sleeves and the Harley logo on the front and back. He liked that she’d chosen to purchase the identical jacket to his. ’Twas a sign to other men that she belonged to him, like wearing the plaid of his clan.

He could hardly believe he’d already been there three weeks. He’d taken over several classes Connor had been teaching, freeing his friend to get caught up on the paperwork stacked high on his desk. The two of them had begun sparring on a regular basis, and Erin seemed to get on well with Connor and his family. He’d even accompanied Erin to the Renaissance festival the last weekend she’d worked there. Mayhap he’d join the reenactment club. He certainly had much to offer.

He surveyed the store while waiting by the counter as his lady signed the slip of paper the merchant had handed her along with True’s debit card. “I want to look at bikes before we leave, babe.”

“Of course you do.” Erin arched her brow. “Thanks,” she told the fellow who had helped them, sliding the pen and the slip of paper toward him.

“My pleasure. The showroom is right next door.” He gestured toward a door separating the shop they were in from the chamber housing the motorcycles.

Rob reached for Erin’s hand, tugging her close. “Let’s go.”

She laughed. “All right already. Relax. We have two hours before the movie starts, and you can spend the time looking at all the shiny new motorcycles, but we are not buying one today.”

He frowned. “But we could. You said there’s enough money in the account, and I’m earning more now.”

“Where would you keep it, Rob? Winter is coming, and believe me, you have no idea how cold and snowy it gets here in Minnesota. You couldn’t ride it until spring.”

She spoke in terms of the future, warming his heart and causing his spirits to soar. He drew her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips, backing off right away lest she protest.

“What was that for?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“I’m happy. Are you no’ happy, love?” Taking her hand again, he opened the door to the showroom and ushered her through.

“I am.” Her expression clouded. “But—”

“No buts today. Behold.” He swept his hand out in a semicircle. “My trusty mount awaits.”

The corners of her mouth turned up. “I suppose once you get your hands on one of these bad boys you’ll never want to leave. In fact, I’ll bet you’d give the dang thing a name.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin, feigning deep thought. “I shall call him Harley. No point in confusing the beast.” Erin laughed, and the sweet sound filled him near to bursting with satisfaction. He’d brought a smile to her face, brought laughter to her heart. Surely she cared for him as he cared for her.

Erin had begun to open up to him, sharing stories of her day, giving voice to the things that caused her to worry. Her compassion had no bounds when it came to the women and bairns she worked with during her clinicals, as she called them. Intelligent, compassionate, warm, sensitive and beautiful, Erin held him spellbound, and she had no idea just how amazing he found her.

“It’s no’ the machines or the technology that keeps me here, love.” Again he drew her into his arms, losing himself in the depths of her lovely green eyes, not to mention the feel of her curves against him. “You must know that I—”

“Can I help you folks?”

Erin backed out of his embrace and averted her gaze. He couldn’t let her retreat, didn’t want to lose the closeness they’d shared all day. Nay. He’d worked too hard to build that closeness over the past three weeks as he slowly chipped away at her defenses and fear. She’d grown accustomed to his affection, allowing him to hold her hand, accepting brief hugs and a chaste kiss from time to time. He reached for her hand again, twining his fingers with hers. “We’re just looking.”

“All right.” The merchant put his hands in his pockets and nodded. “If you need anything or have any questions, I’ll be around.” He moved off toward another man walking through the showroom.

Robley drew her along beside him. They had time yet for the talk he longed to have with her. For now, he’d be content to spend the day with her hand in his. “What color do you prefer?” He ran his hand over a shiny blue gas tank.

“I like classic black.”

“Black would look nice with our matching jackets.” They spent an hour looking at the different bikes, hand in hand. Rob found one he really liked, counting the months before spring. Six. He’d have his documents long before then, and he’d insisted on getting the proper license so he could drive a motorcycle of his own. He thought less and less about returning home the more his life in this time took shape. He should be alarmed by the realization, but one look at Erin walking by his side, and all his worries fled.