HISTORICAL ROMANCE: Scottish Romance: Scars of a Highlander (Highlander Alpha Male Romance) (Historical Fantasy Scottish Time Travel Romance Short Stories) (2 page)

The kettle finished boiling and she poured the hot water into a mug. The old woman at the fair might have been crazy, but she had been right about one thing; Martha had lost her happiness and she wasn’t sure where she was going to find it from again. She walked over to the small breakfast table and sat down with her mug of hot chocolate. She felt empty and cold inside, as she realized that there would be nothing, but her company, until the next day, when she could look forward to another couple of texts and five minute phone calls.

She could feel the small bottle of liquid that the woman had given her, pushing against her leg as it dug into the pocket of her jeans. She reached down and pulled it out. She let it roll around her palm for a moment, before she put it on the table and looked at it with the intense attention. The golden shimmer was still there underneath the kitchen light and it gave the liquid a magical air to it.

Martha could feel herself being pulled into the mystery and she pulled off the stopper, so that she could smell what it was on the inside. The liquid had no smell though, and that only enraged her throbbing curiosity to know what it was. She lifted it to her mouth and thought about drinking it, before she placed it back on the table and scoffed at herself. She couldn’t drink it. Some weirdo on the street had given it to her with very little in the way of information. It could be anything. It could be drugs or poison or small pox.

Martha shuddered at her train of thought and put the stopped back onto the bottle. The woman had been right about her happiness, but that didn’t mean that she was going to drink some random liquid and it didn’t mean that the liquid could help. It might look like something out of a fairy tale, but this was real life and in real life, magical things didn’t happen to people like Martha.

She lifted her hot chocolate to her lips and took a long drink. She could feel the smooth taste of chocolate ride down her throat, as it warmed her slowly from the inside. She closed her eyes and tried to find a relaxing place in her thoughts, but she couldn’t quite manage it. Every happy thought she could think of had Ross in it, but that only led to a bittersweet feeling of pain, as she realized that there was still two full days, before she could see him again and even then, he would be leaving again too soon.

She could feel her eyes stinging as the unhappy feeling reached them. She had already cried so much that week that she was starting to get used to the feeling of tears burning their tracks into her delicate cheeks. She sniffled quietly, as they over flowed from the corner of her eyes and feel with quiet thuds to the table below them. She could feel her shoulders shaking as she let the sorrow take its hold of her body and then she forced herself to stop and swallow it straight back down.

She hated feeling like this. She hated feeling as though she was broken. She pulled the liquid back over to her and pulled off the stopped. She could feel a strange sense of defiance as she went against her better judgement and drank it down in one gulp. She put the bottle back down on the table and stared at it. It was empty, and the noise it made upon landing on the table was hollow.

Martha blinked as she waited to feel some kind of side effect. She kept her eyes on the empty in front of her and then felt her heart skip a beat, as it started to blur and shift in front of her. She tried to fight against her eyes, which were closing without her consent. Her brain felt heavy and full of clouds, as she tried to bring herself back around, but it was too strong and she could feel her head falling through the air, as it sped towards the table.

*******

Martha opened her eyes slowly and tried to ignore the swirling feeling in her brain. She could feel a dry itch in her eyes from sleeping too long and she blinked hard to try and bring some moisture back to them. She shivered as a breeze swept up around her neck and she pulled her cover further up to her chin. The material felt wrong though. It wasn’t the same soft cotton sheets that she had picked out from the small shop in the village. They felt scratchy and heavy on her body. She looked down and realized that the sheets weren’t hers, but more to her surprise was the fact that she wasn’t even in her room.

She sat up as the cold breeze started to wrap its hands around her uncovered skin. She looked in front of her and then behind her. She looked to the side of her and then down to the small hay bed that she was laying on. She didn’t get it. Her brain was desperately trying to get the joke. She could feel fright started to take a hold of her, as she realized that she didn’t even know where she was.

She stood up quickly and pulled on a long robe that was hanging over a standing mirror. She wasn’t sure whose it was, but she could feel her arms getting goose bumps as they fought against the cold of the air that seemed to nip with every breath she took. She walked around the large tent trying to look for clues, but there was nothing. She could hear the sound of a fire crackling beyond the sheets that made up her tent, and she walked over to the small double flapped doors and peered out.

She was in the middle of nowhere. All she could see were hills surrounding the small campsite that she had found her way onto. There was already a small crowd of people are the fire, but Martha could tell from the number of tents that she could see that there were more people than what were present. She pulled her head back into the tent and tried to stop the panic from taking over her. She didn’t know anybody she had seen from outside of the tent and they were all dressed, so strangely.

“Daughter!” A familiar voice called out.

Martha tried to place the voice with a face, but she couldn’t think of where she had heard it from before, even though she was sure that she had heard it.

“Daughter!” The gruff voice called out again in a thick Scottish accent.

Martha turned with a surprised look on her face, when she heard the door to her tent being ruffled.

“I’ve been calling for you.” A large man said with the same gruff voice that had been calling out.

Martha took a moment to explore the man with her eyes. He was tall with broad shoulders that seemed to fill the small space of the tent. His hair was fire red and seemed to stick out wherever it chose to. He had a scarred face, but it was softened with sparkly green eyes that seemed full of warmth and life.

“I’m sorry?” Martha said, but she could hear the questioning in her own voice.

“Is everything alright my child?” The man asked with a concerned face as he walked over to Marth and put his heavy arm around her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Martha lied, as she tried not to buckle under his weight.

“Well, you sure don’t seem it. You know if you’ve got a touch of the nerves, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He said supportively.

“Honestly, I’m fine.” Martha said again, but this time without the shake to her voice.

“If you say so.” The man said with a shake of his head. “Are you ready then?” He asked her with excited eyes.

“I think so?” Martha asked, because she had no idea what exactly she was meant to be ready for.

“Are you sure you don’t want a little more time to get ready?” The man asked her with quizzical eyes, as he looked over her messy hair and half fastened robe.

“Perhaps, a little longer?” Martha asked.

“That’s not a problem Martha, I’ll tell your future husband to hold his horses.” The man said with a chuckle and then he walked back out of the tent.

Martha tried to steady her breathing, but she couldn’t. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, as she tried to figure out what was happening to her. She had fallen asleep at her kitchen table and woken up in a tent in the middle of the highlands. None of it made sense and trying to find the sense in it was making her head hurt.

She sat down at the small dressing table that had been put in the corner of the tent. She looked in the mirror was shocked to see a stranger staring back at herself. She lifted her hand up slowly, as to catch the reflection out and prove that it was all a hoax, but the reflection moved with her as one and she found herself frowning over her changed features. She pulled her hand through her hair that was the same red, as the man who had just been in to see her. It was wild, curly and seemed to run the length of her back. Her bright green eyes sparkled against the small flickering lights of the torches that were keeping the tent alight and her pale skin looked almost as white as snow.

She turned away from the mirror once she had braided her hair and looked at a small chest, which she was sure would contain clothes. She pulled open the heavy wooden lid and peered inside at the choices she would have. They were all dresses, but they were made out of a thick, heavy material, which Martha was sure would keep her warm. She finally settled on a dark blue dress that seemed to sharpen the color of hair and contrast against the color of her eyes.

******

Martha pushed open the curtains of the tent and walked out into the busy campsite. She could count at least twenty men all wearing leather guards and kilts. They were all well-built with wide shoulders and rugged faces. She examined each of them as she walked passed the fire and realized that each looked much like the one before him.

She stopped when she had reached the same fiery red haired man who she assumed was meant to be her father. “I think I’m ready now.” She said quietly.

He turned to look at her and then gave her an approving nod. “You look much better than you did this morning.” He said.

“Thanks.” Martha said with a quick nod.

“Are you excited?” He asked Martha as he stood up.

“I’m nervous.” Martha replied because it was true. She still had no idea what was going on or where she was. She had just decided to play along until someone explained it to her.

“You have no reason to me.” Her father said supportively. “You’re the prettiest flower this side of Scotland.” He said with pride beaming out of his eyes.

“You flatter me.” Martha said with a little shake of her head.

“With good reason.” He replied with a broad grin. “Come on then.” He said and then he gestured with his body for them to start walking. “You know.” He said and then he paused for long enough for Martha to turn and look at him. “It’s taken me a great deal of time to choose a man who was worthy of taking my daughter’s hand, and I’m sure that I’ve picked someone perfect for you.” He said, but his voice sounded a little unsure and Martha could tell that he was nervous himself.

“I am sure that you’ve picked well.” Martha said with a soft smile.

“I do hope so.” He said and then he stopped outside of a tent that had shadows moving from within. “He’s in there.” He said quietly and then he gave Martha a love filled look, before he turned and walked back towards the fire.

Martha watched him walk away, before she turned back to the tent. She could feel her breathing growing rampant as she tried to stay calm, but she could feel herself drowning in the situation. She was confused and scared. She didn’t know what was going on and now she was expected to meet her new husband? She stood still, as thoughts attacked her mind and it wasn’t until a voice brought her back into reality that she even realized that she was still standing in front of the tent.

“You know, you could come in and get out of the cold?” A silky, deep voice said from behind her.

She turned to look, confused by who might be talking to her. She didn’t say anything, as her eyes met the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in her life. His hair was a deep red, but not bright like hers. Instead, it seemed to hold the same glow as embers do, when the fire has died out, but they are refusing to give up their heat.

His eyes were blue, but Martha could see tiny flecks of white in them that reminded her of the spray of the ocean on a windy day. They seemed to sparkle against the weak sunlight that was shining over the camp and Martha could tell that there was a depth to them that she might never reach the end of.

“I’m sorry, I must have got lost in my thoughts.” Martha said with a quick smile.

“Then come in here, get lost in the warmth.” The man smiled and stepped aside, so that she could enter.

Martha walked into the tent and looked around. It was much like the one she had woken up in, except instead of a dressing table there was a chest that seemed filled with weapons. She turned back to the man and waited for him to speak.

“You’re father tells me that you can hunt?” The man asked her with a curious expression.

“Then I’m sure he was telling you the truth.” Martha said because she had no idea whether she could hunt or not. “Might I ask your name?” She said when their eyes met from across the tent.

“They call me, Henry.” He said with a smile that only lifted up the left corner of his mouth. “Your father wasn’t lying when he said you were beautiful, huh?” He said.

Martha could feel her cheeks blushing over his compliment and then she immediately felt stupid for it. Whatever was going on didn’t change the fact that she had a husband at home. It didn’t change the fact that this clearly wasn’t her world and she didn’t belong there. “Thank you.” She said when it became clear that he was expecting a response.

“No need for thanks, when it’s only the truth I speak.” Henry said with a modest look and a little shake to his head.

*******

Martha had been in the strange new world that she had woken up in for a nearly a week. She had been sure that when she went to sleep on the first night that she would wake up and find herself back in her own bed, in her own house and in her own time, but that simply hadn’t happened. Instead, she had woken up the next day feeling the same icy breeze down her neck and rough itch of the sheets she was sleeping underneath.