Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (12 page)

Hearing him talk like they were back home threw her off. “No,” she exclaimed. “Don’t talk like Trevor, keep talking like a Scotsman. It doesn’t seem right to do it any other way.”

He shrugged and held out his hand. “Come on, you’re not the first twenty-first century woman to arrive here. Remember, Ferchar was laird of this castle when Caitlin arrived.”

She couldn’t wrap her mind around that. But he made a good point. Caitlin must have arrived in twenty-first century clothing. Probably not a tank top and booty shorts, though. Why did she have to pick today, of all days to wear something sexy? Right now she’d be happy if the ground opened up and swallowed her. She couldn’t be that lucky so she grabbed Colin’s hand and started walking.

As they got closer to the castle her feelings of dread were replaced by an unexpected sense of contentment. There was something magical about this place. Not just because she was in Scotland, though that in itself was amazing enough, but there was a mystical power, a draw that she couldn’t quite explain.

She should have been super tense. But she wasn’t. Even with all the curious glances thrown her way she didn’t feel uncomfortable. She actually felt like she belonged. In some weird way it was as if she was being welcomed into the family. The clan. Everyone greeted them with warm smiles, and the genuine love and respect Colin received helped put her at ease.

But she still had to meet his mother. 

By the time they reached the first drawbridge several warriors walked alongside them, chatting with Colin, proud it seemed to escort him home. While she wanted to study each and every Scotsman it was impossible. She was actually walking over a genuine moat and beneath a well-kept portcullis for the first time. She was so excited that she wanted to jump up and down. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. She could hardly contain herself. All she could do was gaze up and take in every single detail, then store it in her memory for use in a future novel.

Now
this
was what she called research. Scots dialect echoed around her, both in English and Gaelic, and the castle loomed taller than ever. How completely astounding! She’d been given a front row seat into every Scottish historical ever written.

Colin stopped dead right in front of her. She’d been too caught up in her own thoughts to notice, and almost trampled him. What the …? When she looked up, she saw an old woman standing beneath the next portcullis. With long, streaming white hair, a functional dress and the MacLomain plaid wrapped over her shoulder, she eyed Colin. McKayla’s heart clenched when she saw tears welling in her eyes. The woman maintained her composure and notched her proud chin. “Are you home then, son?”

As he moved forward McKayla released Colin’s hand. Mother and son stared at one another for a long, drawn-out moment before he dropped to his knee and lowered his head. “I am home, Ma. Will you have me back then? Will you forgive me?” He grasped her hands. “I am so verra sorry for the heartache.”

Again breathing became impossible. Arianna trembled as she looked down her nose at him. It was obvious that she wanted to teach him a lesson. Wanted to be strong, and dish out some tough love for what he’d done, but her body language was betraying her, showing her true feelings. It wasn’t long before she cracked. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Heartbreaking didn’t begin to describe the relief in her voice.

“In every lifetime would I forgive you. In every lifetime would I take you back, my lad.”

McKayla teared up when Colin wrapped his mother in his arms. Their grieving was a distant memory. For their son had come home. It spoke highly of the kinship they possessed, and their ability to forgive.

Forgiveness. What a foreign concept. It was something she wasn’t particularly familiar with. Though Caitlin didn’t know it, after McKayla’s parents split up she’d spent a few years in foster care. When her Dad took off her Mom went through a dark period, leaving no one to care for her. Thank God she’d met Seth. He was an anchor in an otherwise stormy sea. He had been going through something similar, and they could relate. Because of that time in her life she became slightly more reclusive. Seth always said she’d crawl inside herself or develop a more assertive nature.

Clearly the former prevailed. The only positive was it suited her love of writing.

McKayla stood awkwardly on the bridge fully expecting to find her way into the castle alone. But again, she was surprised when Arianna pulled away and headed in her direction. Heart thumping heavily up into her throat she almost took a step back. Her apprehension was unnecessary because Arianna smiled and took her hands. McKayla looked into eyes as stunning as Colin’s.

“Welcome, McKayla. ‘Tis so good to finally meet you.” The older woman looked her over from head to toe. “I know how scared you are right now. Lord, do I know! I was naught but a youngling when I traveled back in time from 1799 to meet my Iain.” Her eyes grew distant. “Hard, terrible, glorious, unforgettable times they were.” Then her eyes once more met McKayla’s. “But worth every moment.”

McKayla was unsure of what to say, so when she started to speak, she snapped her mouth shut and stopped.

“No, no,” Arianna said, kind eyes urging her to speak. “Say what you will.”

I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. By the way, you have a pretty great son.
But she didn’t say that at all. Nope, instead she said, “Sorry about the outfit, especially the short shorts.”

What the heck? She’d just spoken with Trevor’s…um Colin’s mom for the first time and she’d said ‘sorry about the outfit’?
The shorts?
Way to go, McKayla.

It didn’t bother Arianna any because her smile widened. “You’ll do just fine.” She took her hand and they started to walk. “Though I like the shorts we shall get you into a dress straight away.” When they reached Colin, Arianna grasped his hand. “McKayla will need a tour of the castle, and you’ll both need some food. Which would you prefer to do first?”

“Whatever is most convenient,” McKayla said. “Thank you.”

Arianna nodded and looked at Colin. “She will stay in your chambers. You fled one bride and come back with another. The MacLomain’s are an easy crowd but gossip travels. ‘Tis imperative that when it hits the MacLeod’s they hear a reasonable explanation, aye?”

“Aye,” Colin agreed, clearly smitten with seeing his mother again.

“The MacLeod’s?” McKayla asked, unable to stop herself.

“Aye.” Arianna shook her head. “‘Twas their laird’s daughter left at the altar three years ago.”

A MacLeod? And not just any Macleod. The Macleod’s
daughter
? What was going on?  Colin knew she’d written about a Colin MacLeod! For God’s sake, he’d helped her write it. There had to be more to the story. Something he wasn’t telling her. Because this was all becoming too uncanny. It took everything she had not to confront Colin about it, but she wouldn’t ruin his homecoming. It certainly wasn’t for his sake but for Arianna’s. She seemed wonderful.

A light breeze passed over the bridge and as if it told her something, Arianna stopped short.  “What is this pain you suffer from, Colin?” Arianna pushed up his tunic and touched the circle on his abdomen. Startled, she pulled back her hand, fear clear on her face. “Tell me, son.”

Colin shoved the tunic down and shook his head. “‘Tis nothing.”

“Nothing is always something in this family,” she murmured. “We will talk of this later.”

“Aye, later, please.” Colin kissed her on the cheek. “Promise.”

“At long last, brother, you return,” came a deep, even voice.

He has a brother? When she turned, McKayla almost tripped over her own feet. A man even more arresting than Colin, if that was even possible, approached them. With white blond hair, he was as tall and muscled as Colin, though his skin was tanner and his eyes a jaw-dropping Emerald. With darker slashed brows and a chiseled face his looks were the sort that kept drawing the eye.

Her eyes were glued to his dimples as he bowed in front of her. “So nice to meet you, lass. I am Bradon and you must be his…” Clever eyes flickered to Colin before landing once more on her. “For now.”

“What happened to his hair?” Colin sat on the stairs leading up to the castle and frowned as Bradon escorted a willing McKayla around the courtyard. “It used to be much darker.”

Sitting next to him, his mother shrugged. “Only the good Lord knows. He came home with it one day and we didnae question him. You’ve got to understand when you left ‘twas terrible for him.”

“It looks magically induced,” he mentioned, which would be no surprise. Beyond impulsive, Bradon always acted without thinking first. Aye, the same could be said about Colin but gods save his parents, their youngest son was crazier than their oldest.

His Ma sighed, her eyes locked on the castle’s tower. “There were others hurt by your departure.”

Colin didn’t have to ask. He already knew. His sister Torra. “Should I go see her now?”

“Nay,” his Ma said immediately. “You need to give her several days to watch, learn, understand. No other felt the loss as deeply as she did, my sweetling. Surely you must know that.”

Oh, he knew it. And it had eaten at him more so than everything else. Torra had always been special. The youngest of Iain and Arianna’s children she spoke only sixteen words a year, four at each solstice and four at each equinox. A recluse, she hadn’t come out of the main tower since she was twelve, ten years ago.

His Ma’s expression was admirably resilient when she said, “I have not laid eyes on her since you left. Nor has your Da. She willnae allow it.”

Colin put his arm around her frail shoulders and pulled her close. “You have been so verra strong, Ma. Because of me, you’ve had to be more so.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I will make this right. All of it.”

Long minutes passed before she said. “If you love her truly, then you shall.”

He didn’t need to ask who she spoke of. Besides his mother, McKayla and Torra were the most important women in his life. “I love her truly, and so I shall.”

They sat next to each other in silence for a long time until Bradon led McKayla up the steps. With his wit and charm he’d made a project out of showing her the armory, stables and kitchens. But his lass looked better off for the time spent away from him, and he more than needed the time with his Ma. But when his brother offered to show McKayla the castle innards, Colin shook his head. “Nay, brother. Now she is mine.”

They hadn’t exchanged an embrace on greeting and Colin understood that Bradon didn’t intend one now. McKayla said, “Are you sure? He’s a fabulous guide.”

Fabulous?
In more ways than one if he had his way. But Colin banked the thought. He knew his brother was lashing out. With a quick kiss on his Ma’s cheek he stood, smiled and held out his hand to McKayla. “If I may? You have not seen the half of it yet.”

For a fraction of a moment, he knew she was tempted to say no. She wanted his brother to show her. But the ever evasive ability to tell others exactly how she felt hadn’t quite kicked in yet. And he fully intended to take advantage of that right now. Soon enough, medieval Scotland and the consequences of time travel would transform her into an entirely different creature. Not by choice but by design. It happened every time.

After saying goodbye to Arianna and Bradon, they walked up the stairs toward the front door of the castle. Instead of mentioning how incredible everything looked, McKayla said, “He reminds me of Trevor.”

Colin flinched and worked at a grin. “No surprise, Bradon’s a forward thinker.”

They’d no sooner walked through the front door when a female voice rang out, “Guess I won that wager, Malcolm. She’s walking in with the traitor instead of Bradon.”

While he knew she’d be faced with a lot when meeting his clan for the first time, Colin wasn’t prepared for how trivial his cousins would act. And though he tried to keep in mind that he’d hurt them with his departure, he’d only allow so much. With a hand on the small of her back, Colin introduced McKayla to his rude brethren. “McKayla, as you didnae meet them properly before, allow me to introduce my cousins, Malcolm and Ilisa.”

Face impregnable, Malcolm sipped from his tankard and offered no greeting. Ilisa only narrowed her eyes. Bloody blackguards. While he might deserve their wrath, his lass certainly did not.

Instead of subjecting her to more of their callousness, Colin focused on giving an uncomfortable McKayla a tour of the great hall. As he suspected she soon became less aware of them and more intent on her surroundings. It almost seemed that through her eyes he saw the hall in which he’d been raised for the very first time. She questioned him on everything from the massive nautical tapestries to the classic medieval architecture.

“
This
,” she said, impressed. “Has got to be the most amazing thing I’ve seen so far. And that says a lot because this whole place and everything in it is way beyond impressive.”

Colin grabbed two tankards from a passing servant and handed one to McKayla. The object of her admiration was the mantel perched over the great fireplace. Though he’d not explained as much the many faces carved into its smooth, thick surface were generations of MacLomains.

He enjoyed watching her sample the mead. Her lips pursed and brows rose slightly. The MacLomain’s didn’t water down their drink. “This mantle has been here as long as the castle itself. The verra heart of the beast some say.”

“I could see this being the source of all magic,” she murmured, eyes roaming over the varying expressions that stared back.

“Would you like to sit? Enjoy the fire and your drink before continuing on?”

She shook her head. “No way. There’s still too much to see.” 

Her eyes slid to his cousins. “And it wouldn’t hurt to take a break from them. I don’t need to hear what they’re saying to know I’m the subject of their conversation.”

With a nod, he took her hand and led her up one of two long sets of stairs flanking either side of the hall. “They’ll be dealt with. You won’t have to suffer through this much longer.”

“Dealt with?” she mumbled. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not sure you should be
dealing
with anyone. As far as I can tell they’re hurt. They believe this treatment is what you deserve. And I’m a target by default. They obviously cared a great deal for you.”

Observant. As always. Regardless, while he might deserve it she certainly didn’t. They reached the top and started down the first torch-lined hallway they came to.

“You’ve a kind heart, lass. I will deal with my cousins with discretion. You need not trouble yourself over it.”

“Oh, stop talking to me like we’ve only just met.” She ran her fingers along one of the torch brackets. “I get that you’re sliding back into old habits which probably means a level of formality I’m not used to…but still…it’s weird.”

He couldn’t agree more. But despite himself, being here again was forcing him to recognize the man he’d left behind. The man he was
supposed
to have become. “You’ve the right o’ it. But chances are neither of us will be able to avoid a few minor changes in my personality. The way people expect me to act here is far different than how they did in the twenty-first century.”

“Obviously.” She glanced down one of many long hallways before they climbed another set of stairs. “But that doesn’t mean you have to get all rigid when we’re alone.”

Colin grinned. “Choice words.”

He didn’t miss the grin she buried in a sip of mead. Once they’d reached the third level he steered her out onto a wall walk. As expected her eyes went wide and she put a hand over her mouth. This view was the best in the castle. It overlooked the field, rolling green forest and a sparkling loch majestically spanning out on either side.

It took little time for her to brace her hands on the rampart and lean forward, face to the wind, a wide smile on her face. She shook her head. “My writing doesn’t do Scotland justice. In fact, I don’t think the right words even exist to capture it.”

“I didnae think you did too bad considering you’d never been.” He leaned against the rampart, preferring to watch her rather than the countryside. Absolutely breathtaking were amongst the many words he could use to describe her. He’d always likened her to the Fae because of her pale sparkling blond locks and slightly tilted silver eyes. With sweeping green fields and sapphire waters beyond, his musings seemed more the true now.

Though McKayla’s eyes never left the view, she said, “The way you’re looking at me isn’t conducive to that whole ‘let’s focus on the friendship’ end of things, Colin.”

Nor did he intend it to be. Though he knew their friendship would always remain impregnable and cherished, she would be his again in all ways possible. He hadn’t risked everything to walk away now. Besides, the idea of being with another woman had turned his stomach since the moment he’d laid eyes on McKayla. “I made it clear I’d earn back your respect. Never once did I say I’d discontinue pursuing what we had before. Besides, as Ma made clear, the clan expects it.”

She turned a frown his way. “I meant to talk to you about that.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Your mom is clearly a kind woman so I didn’t want to say anything but I’m not too comfortable pretending I’m married to you. And I’d say the same thing if you looked like Trevor.”

He moved his hand a fraction closer so that it rested against hers on the rampart. A shiver ran through her body and though he knew she itched to snatch her hand away she didn’t.

“It might be easier than you think,” he murmured.

“Oh, I’m sure it’d be incredibly easy,” she replied, frowning. “But that’s not the point. I don’t intend to fall back into your arms in a few shorts hours and forgive you just because you’ve decided we’re starting over. As far as I’m concerned, I’m as single here as I was at home. Besides—” She held up her hand and twisted the Claddagh ring. “This won’t allow it.”

Colin ignored a flash of irritation and kept his tone light. “A few short hours? Of course not. I’ll give you a day or two.”

And that bloody ring didn’t threaten him in the least.

She crossed her arms over her chest. Though what he said might sound like a jest to most, she knew better. “If this is your way of earning back the right to call me Kay, you’re doing a terrible job.”

No doubt. A terrible job didn’t even begin to explain it. He was making a complete mess of things. His emotions were getting the best of him. That was something he’d have to control if he was going to face everyone waiting downstairs. But it was damned hard not to throw her up against the wall, and take her now. He had no desire to go forward without knowing she was firmly in his corner.
His
lass.

McKayla’s expression softened. She sensed his thoughts. Could almost feel the insecurities he tried so hard to mask, insecurities that held no place in the life of a MacLomain.

So instead of exasperating her with honeyed words he shared his concerns about what he’d left behind.  “Gaining the forgiveness of my parents and William was the easiest. Bradon and Ilisa I’m sure willnae be easy but they’ll come around. Malcolm, however, is the most affronted by my actions and by far the least likely to budge on his misgivings.”

McKayla exhaled and her shoulders relaxed. It seemed she appreciated both the topic switch and his desire to share his concerns. “What was he like before you left? Was he jealous that you were to take control of the clan when based on birthright it should have been him?”

“Nay,” Colin said. “‘Twas never like that with him. We were closer than brothers and developed an unbreakable bond. At least I’d always thought it to be such. He knew in time he’d lead as well and as far as we were concerned we’d all but rule together. We’ve always seen things the same way, shared the same vision for the clan. Our unerring faith in and love for the MacLomains is mutual.”

“If that’s the case he’s more likely to forgive than you think.”

He winced. “You would think but nay. The verra pacts we made when bairns, the verra devotion we had to this clan built the strong kinship we shared. For such a Scotsman, ‘twould be near impossible to ken the actions of a brother who turned away from all he’d promised to protect.”

“Let me ask you this then,” she said softly, tucking hair behind one ear. A gesture he hadn’t seen in some time. “You’ve gone through life-altering changes in the past three years, so why is it impossible to think that perhaps he has too? Maybe the man you left behind has changed. You’re basing your opinion on someone you once knew. It seems rather narrow minded.”

“Naturally, I dinnae doubt he’s changed, lass. But ‘tis bitterness and resentment that he’s allowed to eat away at him, making the chances of an amiable truce even less likely than before.” He shrugged. “I cannae see it being any other way.”

“Then coming home seems to have clouded what used to be a pretty clear head. Do you imagine he only wanted everyone to
think
he resented you? Could his actions all be for show? If you two are so similar, then who’s to say he’s not regressed but progressed. Did he know the misgivings you were having before you fled? Did you talk about anything you were going through?”

He’d always appreciated her optimism. It helped under the weight of such heavy thoughts. “There was little I didnae share with Malcolm.”

Though there were a few things he hoped he’d never have to share with anyone.