The Highlander's Curse (14 page)

“I’ve
heard o’ folks wi’a fear o’ that. I didnae ken it actually had a name.” Cailen
stood and walked past my bed toward the stairs. “I dinna want ye tae be nervous
needlessly. Let’s go up and see if Mrs. Paterson’s finished wi’our breakfast.”

****

“So, tell me where yer
from, dear.” Mrs. Paterson smiled brightly at me, her eyes sparkling with
anticipation.

She was
a beautiful older lady with blonde hair like mine, which was pulled up into a
tight bun. Only a few strands fell around her face. No way had she accidentally
let them loose. The woman was meticulous with absolutely everything she did.
From head to toe, the woman was perfectly coiffed, and she strove to actually
clean her house—enough that I even felt comfortable. Even better, she was so
easy to hang out with, that I’d found myself relaxing around her. For just a
little while, I was able to forget that I was two and a half centuries in the
past. They had nicer furniture than I’d seen in other homes, and took pride in
what they had.

I’d
learned during breakfast that old Uilleam was actually her husband, and was
solely responsible for building the hideout underneath their house, as well as
crafting most of their furnishings. It seemed he’d been a wanted man a long
time ago, just after he and the Mrs.—Mary—had met. He’d been lucky to have
survived, and the two had been even more fortunate to have married each other
after their trials. Of course, it’d been Mrs. Paterson who’d told us about
their story, since Uilleam had been out working at the distillery.

I
thought it was sweet, just how much the woman loved her husband even after all
these years. I envied that sparkle in her eyes, and the way the mere thought of
the man made her smile. It made me wonder if I’d ever love my Highlander as
much. I thought I might someday. It felt like I was already well on my way to
being enamored with him.

Once
Uilleam had returned home and spotted Cailen, the old man permanently removed
him from me for most of the day. Even now, the two of them were hunched over
their table, playing cards and drinking whiskey. Mrs. Paterson and I were
sitting in two hand-carved chairs next to the fireplace, where we sipped on hot
coffee, and I frequently checked on what the men were up to. Hours ago, Cailen
had disappeared, only to return cleanly shaven. I’d been almost unable to look
away from him; his strong, square chin clearly visible now that the scruff was
gone. I was surprised to see that he had a cleft chin, which just made him that
much sexier.

“I’m
from the U.S.—the Colonies. I grew up there.”

“Oh?
Where from?”

I
shrugged. “Probably a place you haven’t heard of. It’s, uh…new.” Ahead of the
times, in fact.
And
…we were already treading in dangerous waters.

“Isn’ae
ev’ra town new in the Colonies?” Mrs. Paterson laughed. Her wide, doe eyes
never left mine as she seemed to be patiently waiting for more.

“Yeah,
I guess so. It’s near Salt Lake City, which is the biggest city in that area.”

“What
about yer mither and faither? Where are they from?”

“They’re
from there too.” My smile faded as my thoughts turned to my family. What were
they doing right now? Or, what would they be doing, if I were in my own time?
Right now, they weren’t even born yet.
I
wasn’t even born yet. And if I
wasn’t born yet, then how was I here?

“I’m
sure yer mam and da miss ye as well.” Mrs. Paterson reached across the small
coffee table, grabbing my hand. Her sympathetic expression morphed at first
contact, her brows lowering as she concentrated on my face. I stared back, not
really sure what was going on. Was she about to have a heart attack or
something?

“Ye
really are no’ from here, are ye?”

I shook
my head. I’d just told her that.

Her
gaze narrowed as she lowered her voice. “And ye’re no’ from this time either,
are ye lass?”

Someone
might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on me with the way my entire
body chilled. I glanced over the old woman’s shoulder at Cailen, who was fully
engrossed in the card game he was playing with Uilleam. When my eyes met Mrs.
Paterson’s again, I shook my head. “How did you know that?”

Mary
peered down at my hand and turned my palm upward. “Legions.”

Holy
crap!
“What are Legions?”

She
shushed me quietly and flicked her gaze over her shoulder at the men. “I must
keep ma gifts a secret. Folk dinna take kindly tae witches.”

Witches?
She was a witch?
Mrs. Paterson
was a witch? A part
of me had written that possibility off, thinking Cailen was probably the only
person who thought they actually existed. Besides, she didn’t seem like the
type. She didn’t have warts or wear a pointy hat, and the only thing I’d seen
her do with a broom was sweep. My brain couldn’t get passed it, even though I
knew she was still talking.

“Are ye
all right?” she asked suddenly, hesitantly touching my hand again.

I shook
free of my thoughts and peered back at her.
She’s a witch. Mary is a witch.
How else would she know I wasn’t from here and now?
“Can you send me back?
Can you put me back into my own time?”

Mrs.
Paterson shook her head. “I’m afraid no’. The spell is a verra powerful one
indeed. There isn’ae anythin’ I could dae tae counteract what the Legions hae
done. And it wouldn’ae be so wise tae anyway.”

My
heart sank with every word she spoke. What did that even mean? “Do you think I’ll
ever go back?”

“I
dinna ken. I canna say why ye’ve been brought tae this time, or what must be
done.” She looked excited suddenly and leaned in closer. “What year?”

“2013.”

The old
woman chuckled silently, her lips curving into grin. “Oh, what I wouldn’ae give
tae see what ye’ve seen.” She sighed, and stood up before patting me on the
shoulder. “I think this old lady might go get some rest. I’ll be seein’ ye in
the morn.”

“Goodnight,
Mrs. Paterson.”

“Call
me Mary,” she sang as she made her way over to the men’s table and talked to
them in a quieted voice. The old woman touched Cailen’s shoulder, patting it
gently as she wished him goodnight. I might have missed that slight stiffening
of her body, if it weren’t for the fact that I was watching her like a hawk.
Mary flicked her gaze toward me as she whisked from the room. What had she
sensed from touching Cailen?

She
disappeared down the tiny hall and I sat in my chair, feeling more than
astonished. Only days ago, I’d begged Cailen to take me to a witch in hopes
that one could send me back to my family. And now that I’d stumbled on my best
chance to get home, she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—try. Maybe I really was under some
sort of curse. She’d said the witch was powerful—or had she said the spell was?
Did it matter?

Who the
hell had sent me here? And why? Why go through all the trouble of sending me so
far into the past without taking credit?

Mary’s
reaction had been enough to scare me. She said there was no way around it. I
had no way to get home. I felt dizzy and numb, and had somehow made it to the
hidden door when Cailen’s hand gently gripped my elbow.

“Are ye
all right?” he asked. His eyes wandered over me, the concern reflecting back at
me making me feel even worse.

“I just
need to go to bed,” I replied, stepping away from him and pushing open the
door.

Impossibly,
I made it down into the basement without falling on my face or my ass. A small
blessing since I felt so separated from myself that I couldn’t tell what was
up, and what was down. Plopping down on the hay bed, I yanked my cell phone
from my purse and turned it on. I didn’t look for a signal, I didn’t hit the
buttons for the internet, email, or text like what I normally would have done.

I
pulled up my pictures and scrolled through shots I’d taken of my family and
friends, doing my best to memorize every line on their faces through the tears
blurring my eyes. I’d already feared days ago that I would never see them
again, but I’d been hoping and praying that I’d find a witch and she’d snap her
fingers or chant a rhyme and send me back. Now, that couldn’t happen. My only
ticket home was gone forever.

I only
spent a few minutes looking over the pics of my friends, knowing who I really
wanted and needed to study. There were 1,136 pictures on my phone, and only a
few of them were of my mom, dad, and Jason. It was the videos that I spent most
of my time on. Watching and listening to my quirky little brother ride his
skateboard through the house. I couldn’t count how many times I’d yelled at him
to knock it off, but now I wished for just one more chance to try it with him.
There were a few of my dad, on the days that he actually took a break from work
to hang out with us.

No
videos of Mom, though.

I
talked to her as I gazed at her pictures. She was maybe the only one who could
actually hear me right now. As with every time I needed to talk to my mom, I
stared at her eyes, wishing that she could respond in some way. I wished all of
them could respond.

My
tears continued to fall and I rolled onto my side, letting the videos loop.
This is all I had left of them. The only piece of my past that I had to latch
on to.

I’d
never see my family again.

****

“Och, ye’ve won again,
lad. Ye’ve gotten good in yer old age.”

“Old
age, Uilleam?” Cailen smiled and focused on stacking the cards after what must
have been their tenth game of Penneech. “I’m barely two and twenty.”

“Aye,
and ye haven’ae taken a wife. Unless…” He puckered his lips and drew his
fingers through his wiry beard.

“Nae.
Elizabeth is no’ ma wife. I’ve barely kent the woman for three days now, and
she doesn’ae want anythin’ tae dae wi'me.”

Old
Uilleam guffawed, which turned into a retched hacking. “That lass doesn’ae want
anythin’ tae dae wi'ye? I’ve seen the way she looks at ye, and ye’ve only been
here since this morn.
And
ye’ve had three days tae figure it out? Dae ye
hae any sense a’tall?”

Cailen
laid the perfectly stacked cards face down on the table. He really should go
talk to the lass. She’d looked upset earlier, and he’d desperately wanted to
follow her then. But it would have been rude of him to leave Uilleam,
especially since he and the older man had grown close over the years. Besides,
he’d won Elizabeth’s stay for free, so he only owed Mr. and Mrs. Patterson money
for himself.

Old
Uilleam’s eyes narrowed and he stood, sidling up to the wall and pulling back
the window cover to peer outside. “Ye may want tae get under the house, lad.
And make sure the two o’ ye remain quiet.”

Cailen
stood silently, making sure the feet of his chair didn’t skid along the floor.
After giving a nod of thanks to his old friend, he pushed his way through the
hidden doorway and slipped down underneath the house.

Elizabeth
was lying on one of the pallets, her face awash with light as she stared at her
cell phone. He walked briskly past her, sliding the stone piece back into the
wall. Other than the light illuminating the lass’s face, the room rivaled even
the darkest of nights.

She
finally looked over at him, and from where he squatted, he could see that her
eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks drenched from fallen tears. What had
happened since he’d spoken to her last? He wished he dared ask. Right now, they
had to remain quiet to avoid detection from whoever was outside, though he longed
to comfort her. Pressing his forefinger to his lips, he pointed at the ceiling
above them. Other men were now inside the Paterson’s home, their voices echoing
through the boards that separated Elizabeth and himself from Uilleam and the
newcomers.

The lass
nodded slowly, and looked at the wood plank ceiling above them. Her wee light
extinguished and they sat there in silence as he listened to the conversation
going on overhead. It was the MacDougalls, first asking for Cailen, calling him
by his family name. Uilleam had denied seeing him, and that sleekit bastard,
Donnan, described Elizabeth as though she belonged to him, telling the old man
that Cailen had kidnapped her and made an attempt on his life.

Bloody
liar. Now they’d have to be fair careful from now on, with the MacDougalls
spreading such untruths. He could kill the dobber now for dragging his family
name through the mud.

Cailen
still couldn’t believe he’d allowed them to be captured; that he’d been so
foolish to drag Elizabeth into this mess when she was dealing with her own
problems. Hearing the way MacDougall spoke of her, he kent the man wouldn’t
stop searching for her. He only hoped they didn’t go to Mull, or he’d be forced
to come up with a new plan.

A while
had passed, neither of them moving other than to shift positions in an attempt
to get comfortable. Donnan’s men woke Mary while searching the rooms, and she
joined the conversation. He’d never needed them to lie for him, but he was
never so glad to have their protection now. Both of them behaved as if they
were alone in their house, never receiving visitors except for when their sons
and daughters came to Kilninver.