Highland Stone (3 page)

"Kara—Kara Malone."

"Malone. I dunna recognize the clan."

She groped for a clever response. "I'm not from around here."

"O' that I be certain."

Again, he looked at her the way he'd done a million times in her mind. Except now she saw skepticism, suspicion.

"I—I've come far and am unfamiliar with this area of the Highlands." At least, she hoped she was in the Highlands.

With sleek grace, the Scot stood. "I be Alaxandar MacLeod and that," he pointed to his companion. "'tis me cousin, Jamie."

She nodded at the stocky, well-muscled barbarian.

"Come, I shall take ye to the keep to have your leg looked at."

Alaxandar lifted her into his arms with ease. She shrieked and grabbed his shoulders. She'd never been manhandled like this before.

Frowning he said, "Relax lass, I'll not drop ye." He turned to his cousin. "Jamie, bring me horse. He sat her on the animal's back then hopped on behind her.

Kara started to protest but talk of her odd dress rumbled through the crowd surrounding them.
Breathe
. For once, she'd keep her mouth shut until she got a better handle on how to deal with her uncomprehending situation.

Night was descending. People loaded their bundles on carts or their backs then called out farewells to Alaxandar MacLeod as they dispersed. With her cuddled against his chest, he traveled a dirt road littered with rocks, moving closer to an enormous stone castle. Kara peered at the huge walls rising before them. Squinting, she could see rectangular windows cut out of the stone. The entire castle sat on the edge of treacherous cliffs and the wind whistled when it whipped around the massive structure.

"Welcome to Dunvegan," Alaxandar said as he started across the drawbridge at a slow trot.

"It's impressive," Kara replied. She didn't remember ever seeing a castle in her dreams.

"Aye, 'tis that." He stopped the horse, jumped off, and pulled her down to his arms.

Jamie MacLeod snatched the reins, and veered to the left, leading the horses to what looked like the stables. When they neared the keep, a voice called out. "Yo, Alaxandar. What have ye brought us?" The stranger snickered. "Ye were out to gather information, not women."

Kara twisted in Alaxandar's arms and searched in the direction of the voice. Out of the building's shadow strolled another hulking figure, almost as tall as the one carrying her.

Alaxandar growled. "Iain, I all but stomped this fair lass with me horse, and she needs tending."

Fair-haired, ruggedly handsome with merriment in his eyes and laugh lines, Iain joined them. One light brow hiked to go with the curious expression on his young face.

"'Tis me
bráthair
," Alaxandar told her.

Strong biceps and forearms hugged her closer, shielding her from the strong wind careening through the courtyard up from the loch. The lake was much larger than she'd thought when she'd first seen it. Iain shook his shaggy head. One errant curl fell across his forehead.

"Dunna just stand there," Alaxandar barked. "Go find our
máthair
."

Undisturbed by his brother's order, Iain smiled at her with white teeth and cute dimples.
He's gorgeous, too
.

"Welcome," Iain said in a
smooth voice before he turned and jogged up the stairs to the castle.

"Me
máthair
be versed in the healing arts."

She tried to shift out of his arms, but he held tight. "I can walk you know."

Alaxandar strode up the stairs without responding.

They entered a massive room. The farthest wall housed a giant hearth with a smoldering fire and peat, which smelled like burning dirt. Scattered about the room were clean wooden tables the length of tractor-trailers. Despite the fist-sized chunks bashed from the edges, the oak planks were sanded and smooth. Intricate tapestries woven in a myriad of colors depicted gallant battles and gave warmth to the stark walls. Rushes cracked under Alaxandar's boots.

A petite dark-haired woman, sporting a radiant smile, moved toward them. Her sheer elegance filled the room like early morning sunshine.

"Alaxandar, what mischief have you been about?"

His features softened and he bowed slightly. "Hello,
Máthair
. She's hurt." He turned showing Kara's foot.

"I'm Katherine MacLeod. Welcome to Dunvegan Castle."

Before Kara could reply, Katherine issued orders to those standing around as if she were a commander. "Alaxandar, take the girl to a guest chamber so I can see to her ankle. Iain, go get Maeve and ask her to meet us there."

When he headed toward a nearby doorway, Kara again tried to get down. "Quit squirmin', woman."

"Look, buster, you're the one who almost ran me over. I should be the one who's upset here. Now, put me down."

Again, Alaxandar ignored her request and sprinted up the circular stone steps to the next level.

"Ooh," she huffed.

On the second floor, he entered a mid-sized room and approached a small bed.

"Hey," she yelled as he dumped her unceremoniously on her bruised butt and the soft mattress.

He bowed and, with an amused grin, left the room just as Katherine came in with a young woman. The girl's long brownish-red hair was
fashioned in a braid down her back and she, too, had soft blue eyes. The red, blue, and green plaid she wore as a skirt enhanced her tawny coloring.

"This is my daughter, Leelah."

"I'm sorry," Kara said. "I didn't get a chance to tell you my name earlier. It's Kara."

Leelah half-curtsied in response. Katherine only glanced at Kara once when lifting her pant leg.

"Please have a bucket of cold water brought up," Katherine said to another woman who stood quietly at the door. "And some cloth for wrapping after. I have duties," she told Kara. "Leelah will see to your needs." Before Kara could even thank her, Katherine went through the door with skirts breezing behind her, leaving a deafening silence and a sentry.

For her protection or theirs?

Kara's brain couldn't process all this. Logic warred with insanity and her psychosis seemed to be winning. The pain in her ankle and slight ache on her butt told her this was a waking nightmare, a bout of psychotic delusion brought on by stress.
Where's a shrink when you need one?

A guarded curiosity haunted Leelah's eyes. Even the dream participants doubted her sanity. Kara surveyed the room, unsettled by the other woman's stare. Smaller tapestries hung on the plain walls and sconces with white tapers provided soft light.

"Your mother is very sweet."

The young woman didn't answer. It seemed to run in the family. If they were going to pretend she wasn't there then why did they need a guard at the door?

"Ye were on MacLeod land." Leelah suddenly spoke. The young woman's skepticism beamed in her eyes. "'Tis the duty of the clan to care for travelers."

"And I'm grateful," Kara said, unsure whether the statement had been meant as a threat.

The door opened and the older woman reappeared. A teenage boy followed her, dragging a bucket filled with water, placing it on the floor in front of Kara. Without saying another word, Leelah trailed out of the room with the others.

"I'll be happy to wake up anytime now," Kara offered to the heavens. She stuck her foot in the cold water, stifling a scream, then flopped back on the feather bed. She lay there with one arm flung over her eyes going over everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The only explanation, albeit illogical, is the stone. Glynnis' story said the stone was a talisman with magical powers. While magic was hard for her to swallow, she'd come up with no other reasonable answer. Nervously, she sat up. "The stone."

Frantically she searched her pockets, relieved when her fingers clasped the rock, and pulled it out. She stuffed the stone down her shirt when someone rapped on the door. Katherine MacLeod quickly entered carrying a bundle of clothing.

"I brought you clothes, since you have no others. I thought you would want to freshen up before the meal."

"You're very kind. Thank you for allowing me to stay in your-uh-castle."

"'Tis the Scottish custom to offer food and shelter to travelers. Besides, 'twas my son who ran you down."

"He didn't really. I tripped and fell in front of his horse."

"Let's keep that between us, shall we?" Katherine winked. "'Tis nice to see my son humbled."

Kara chuckled, warming to her hostess. "He frowns a lot."

"Aye, he has much on his mind."

"Um, I noticed that your accent is different from that of your children, less—harsh."

Katherine laughed as she set the clothes on the bed. "That's because I'm English, or Sassenach, in hostile circles." Her brilliant smile faltered.

Kara fiddled with one of the ties on the blouse. "Why haven't you asked about the way I'm dressed?"

Katherine leaned against the door. "The Highlands are fraught with tales of witches and faery and demons who steal your soul, grant you wishes, and curse your clan. If you are fae here to bring good fortune or right some wrong, I welcome it. But if you have come to curse the MacLeods and bring down the clan, I will fight you unto my last breath."

Kara's mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut and counted to ten. "I promise I'm not a witch or demon here to do your family harm." Although if this were ancient Scotland and she had time traveled, wouldn't that be seen as witchcraft? Didn't they burn witches? "But, neither am I a fairy." Kara rubbed her arms against the sudden cold creeping through her bones. She wanted to confide in someone, but could she? Would it mess up her chances of getting home? She thought it best to keep the secret. "I'm merely a stranger in a foreign place, trying to find my way home."
That's an understatement.

Katherine crossed to where Kara sat and gently touched her shoulder. "Then stay with us as long as you need. There is water on the stand so you can refresh yourself before changing. You have some time before the meal." Katherine left.

Kara hobbled to the basin of water and teetered a little. Her emotions were just as wobbly.
One will come to do the right thing.
The right thing. And what the hell was that? How would she know? She thrust her hands into the chilly water, splashed her face, and ran wet fingers through tangles in her strawberry-blond hair to comb out the mess.

Throbbing pains shot up her leg as she stepped into the muslin skirt, which hung to her ankles. The blouse, which looked more like a nightshirt, was lightweight and tucked in nicely. "Not a bad fit." Since the skirt had no pockets and she couldn't risk carrying the stone in her bra, Kara lodged it under the mattress in one of the slats on the bed. With linen cloths she found folded amongst the clothes, she immobilized her ankle.

Her stomach gurgled. She needed food. When she opened the door, the guard frowned at her. She'd gone only a few steps when she saw Iain MacLeod approaching.

"Hello," she said. Heat filled her cheeks and she clasped her hands in front of her. Surrounded by tall, gorgeous men had her feeling like a teenager. Well, if she had to go insane, she might as well enjoy the view.

Iain waved off the guard. "Me
máthair
sent me with stern orders." His eyes twinkled.

"And what might those orders be?" Kara asked, tilting her head to study Iain's devilish expression. She yelped when for the second time that day she was lifted into strong male arms.

"To carry ye to the hall."

He trotted down the steps. She held tight to his shirt but didn't struggle. Being treated like a helpless female ruffled her independent nature, but that was nothing compared to the sinking in her stomach when they entered the great hall and there sat Alaxandar MacLeod at the head table with an older version she assumed to be his father. Their gazes met and held as he stood, motioning Iain to bring her to him.

Thoughts of female virgins offered in sacrifice skimmed her mind. The feral look on Alaxandar's face as they approached definitely brought visions of being fed to the lions. She wished she hadn't left the stone in her room. She could use its protection about now. Iain deposited her in a chair beside his brother.

"Feeling better?" Alaxandar's warm breath caressed her earlobe.

She shivered. "I was."

He chuckled before turning to continue the conversation with his father.

Everyone started eating when trenchers of food were placed in the center of the table. Those who served took cautious steps around her. Alaxandar slapped some kind of meat on the small disk that resembled a plate, and handed her a large oatcake before loading his own with tons of food and digging in.

At least the meat looked cooked. It smelled heavenly to her empty stomach, so she broke a small piece off. It was tough to chew, too gamey tasting, and very salty. Not the cuisine she'd grown up with. Alaxandar poured some warm-spiced wine.

"Thank you."

His sexy, arrogant mouth curved in a smile. Her stomach flip-flopped again. Even now she had to look up to meet his eyes, which were incredible. Her heart paused in awe of him before beating erratically.

The volume of noise in the large hall escalated with every new group of people who entered. Kara found it difficult to concentrate on any one discussion. She heard bits of stories about recent battles and sneak attacks on villages. Occasionally, she'd see someone glance in her direction followed by excited hand gestures. Obviously, they were discussing her sudden appearance. She would have been happier eating in the room.

An angry stare met hers when she locked gazes with Jamie MacLeod. He sneered. He looked as if he'd be happy to launch daggers at her. Kara didn't understand the hostility. She'd done nothing. Okay, appeared out of nowhere, falling in front of Alaxandar's horse and getting invited to stay at the castle, but that's it. Nothing else.

So far.

Uneasiness gripped her, causing the earlier ravenous hunger to dissipate.

"Ye be a skurvish piece, Patrick. I beat that bastard with both me eyes closed. He was but a bit o' nothing."

Alaxandar's voice dragged Kara's gaze away from Jamie and back to the head table.