The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (8 page)

BOOK: The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance
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Hamish had no idea what he meant by
air plains
but had seen the lads’
pods.
Not that the shiny boxes adorned with strange squiggles did anything, much to the lads’ consternation.

Taking up his carving and wee blade again, Ty asked, “I don’t suppose you know how we came to be here?”

Hamish did – or rather suspected he did, but he wasn’t about to speak of it just yet. “Tell me about the Spaniel. Is she content where she lives?”

Ty gave the question some thought. “I don’t think so. She doesn’t smile much and the kids take advantage of her.”

“How so?”

“They horse around in class. Throw stuff. Talk too much. She doesn’t send them to the headmaster like she should. I think she’s afraid he’ll fire her, make her leave.”

“Ah.” Their world was most odd. No man in his right mind would ever think to cast out so lovely a lass as Sarah Spaniel.

Ty shrugged. “I like her though. She’s nice.”

“Aye.” And lonely, if the haunted look he’d caught in her eyes had meaning. “Ye need put yer whittling away and get to sleep. Dawn will be here ’fore long and the coos will need milking.”

“They’re cows, not coos.”

Grinning, Hamish ruffled Ty’s hair. “Ye say it yer way and I’ll say it mine.”

When Ty settled on his pallet Hamish stood and found Sarah in the doorway. When he smiled, she blushed, making him wonder how long she’d been standing there listening. She pointed behind her. “It’s raining.”

“Is it?” He eased past her, caught the heady scents of rain and woman clinging to her – that caused his blood to stir – then looked at the sky. Seeing light weave in brilliant arcs across the western sky, it was all he could do to keep from grinning like a village dolt.
Thank ye, St Bride!

“Ach, lass, the sky does not bode well for ye leaving come morn. If the rains continue the bog betwixt here and Edinburgh will swell to a river, become impassable.”

When they woke to more rain on the second day, Hamish did his best to keep them from worrying. He’d taught Sarah how to separate hull from oat kernels using a stone pastel. At her side Ty and Peter tried their hands at whittling simple animals out of small blocks of dry pine. Mark and Jeremy were stripping bark from foot long hunks of sapling pine, which they’d make into buckets. Bryce was in charge of making the cheese.

Hamish put more wood on the fire then set a crock full of milk before Bryce and lifted the lid. “Ah, ’tis ready.”

Bryce wrinkled his nose. “It’s spoiled.”

Hamish, laughing, reached for one of the small crocks lining the shelf above Bryce’s head. “Nay, ’tis just clabbered. Now ’tis ready for rennet, which will turn the milk to curds and whey.”

Frowning, Bryce asked, “What’s rennet?”

MacDuff opened the small crock and poured several tablespoons of dried beige powder into Bryce’s palm. “Dump that into the milk and stir.”

Bryce sniffed the powder then did as he was told, muttering, “Is this some kind of plant?”

“Nay.” Hamish looked at him and winked. “’Tis the dried lining of a calf’s stomach.”

Sarah tried not to laugh as her students shouted, “Ewwwwwwww!”

As Jeremy nudged Mark and whispered, “The Lion’s joking, right?” Bryce looked at her in horror. “Miss Colbert?”

Sarah nodded, liking the boy’s moniker for MacDuff. He did look like a lion. “It’s true. And there’s no need to
ewwww.
You’ve all eaten rennet custard at home and liked the cheese Mr MacDuff gave you yesterday. Rennet provides the acid needed to turn milk into cheese.”

Ty, looking worried, asked Hamish, “Did you kill the calf?”

“Nay, the poor wee beast died during a late spring blizzard. Nearly broke my heart finding him that morn, but there was nay undoing it, so …” He shrugged.

When several continued to
eww
and shuddered, Sarah reminded them, “We eat veal and lamb at home, gentlemen. The parts not suitable for the table aren’t wasted but used to make custards, gourmet cheeses, leather products like lambskin blazers – which several of you own – pet food and fertilizer. It’s simply a case of waste not, want not.”

Beside her, Jeremy muttered, “That’s it. The minute we get home I’m going vegan.”

“Miss Colbert, he’s cheating again!”

Sarah, shielding her eyes against the brilliant sunlight, laughed. Hamish had Jeremy under one arm like a sack of grain as he bobbed and weaved his way down the make-shift soccer field he’d made in the hopes of easing the boys’ melancholy after two days of solid rain. Their soccer ball, made from straw and leather, had flattened and was tucked neatly under his other arm, the game having degenerated into a free-for-all football.

As he scooped up Mark, she hollered, “Get him, Ty! Grab his belt and pull him down!”

When Ty lunged and missed, Sarah raced towards Peter, their goalie, who stood before two sticks set in the waterlogged ground. Emulating Peter’s stance, she spread her arms and legs wide and shouted, “We got you now, Highlander!”

Hamish slowed and an evil glint took shape in his eyes. He put the boys down, then, laughing, charged straight at her. As he caught her by the waist and spun, Ty and Mark caught his belt and Hamish toppled, making a great show of being brought down, as much a boy at heart as her students.


Ooomph!”
While her victorious students shouted, Sarah tried to catch her breath. MacDuff held much of his weight on his arms, but had a muscular leg nestled squarely between her thighs.

Oh my God! Is he aroused?

Grinning down at her, his blue eyes dancing with mirth, he asked, “Did I score, mistress?”

Oh yes.

She’d long imagined what a man’s heat and weight might feel like, but my, oh my, her imagination hadn’t taken flight nearly far enough. Her heart was racing, sending warmth and need sluicing through her.

“Miss Colbert, is it dinner time yet?” Peter wanted to know.

I neither know nor care, Peter.

“What are we having?” Jeremy asked.

Hamish, his hooded gaze fixed on her lips, slowly rose to his knees and cleared his throat. “Crowdie and havers,” he told them, “unless ye can garner more blackberries.”

Almost in unison they groaned.

When the boys walked off, Hamish slowly rocked to his feet and held out a large calloused hand to her. “We’d best get the rest ready. Ty alone can eat his weight in oats and honey.”

Dazed, she took his hand. “He’s … He’s grown very fond of you.”

“And I of him.”

“In ten months this is the first time I’ve seen him really smile. He’s blossomed under your attention.” And he wasn’t the only one. She too had blossomed. She laughed and pondered what might have been under Hamish MacDuff’s sometimes awkward, usually funny, and occasionally heated perusal.

Watching the boys, Hamish absently toyed with the broad brass cuffs decorating his wrists. “He longs for a father.”

Sarah nodded, only too familiar with that particular heartache.

“And they all lust to be home. Aye?”

“Yes, they’re homesick.” With their game over, the boys were again quiet, walking with slouched shoulders and worried expressions. Last night in the darkened croft she hadn’t been able to tell who’d wept in the wee hours of night but several had.

“And ye, mistress? Do ye lust to be home as well?”

Did she?

She no longer had any family, nor any close friends after caring for her mother for so many years. She’d applied for the overseas teaching position in the hope of finding a new beginning. Instead, her lonely life had simply changed addresses. Home was no longer the rented Chicago duplex she’d grown up in but a tiny rented flat in a grey London suburb full of strangers. Her days were still challenging and worrisome. Her nights filled with mundane television and Chinese takeout.

And then there was Hamish MacDuff. He was everything she had ever dreamed of in a man: strong, handsome, funny, not the least self-conscious. Tender and considerate. Firm when he thought it necessary. And he thought her pretty, followed her every movement with hungry eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. When she did look at him, he simply smiled as if he hadn’t a concern or desire in the world.

No, she didn’t lust to go home, but then it never mattered what she wanted. She just put her head down and did what was expected, what
had
to be done.

Knowing she had no choice but to do so again, she reached out and boldly took Hamish’s hand, threading her fingers through his, memorizing the feel of his touch, of his callouses and strength, of what might have been.

Hamish finished his tale of how he’d come to be in his glen and wished the lads goodnight. ’Twas time to speak his heart to the Spaniel.

He found her, arms wrapped about her shapely legs, sitting at the edge of his pool. Watching her curly hair billow like a dark cloud under the light of a full moon his chest tightened. God’s teeth, he longed to hold her, to claim her.

But then he was only a warrior without a liege. He had his sword and this glen but naught else to tempt her to remain. She was one of the gifted, a teacher, who could read and write, which he could not. Aye, she was well beyond his grasp, yet he wanted her. Wanted her as he’d wanted little else in his life, with a need so bone deep it hurt.

At his approach she looked over her shoulder and her full lips parted into a smile that made his heart stutter.

As he settled next to her on the lush turf surrounding his pool, she asked, “Are they asleep?”

“Aye or soon will be.”

She pointed skywards. “Look at that.” Her voice, soft and sweet, was filled with awe. “In a world without street lights – lit only by fire – you can see
so
many stars.”

Seeing only the heavens as they always were, he cleared his throat. Before he could speak his heart, however, she asked, “Do you have many visitors?”

“Nay. Ye and yer bairns are the first.” When she frowned, he shrugged. “I think it odd as well.” Peddlers and armies had marched past many times over the years yet no one had ever taken notice of his glen. ’Twas almost as if he and this wondrous place did not exist. “’Tis almost as if this place were …”

“Shrouded in magic?” She smiled.

“Aye, so why not remain? Ty’s most content here, blossoming as ye say.”

She sighed. “If I had only Ty to worry over, I think I would remain. I’ve been content here, too. Happier, in fact, than I have been in years.”

Emboldened by her words, he ran a finger along her jaw. When she looked up at him and smiled he cradled her cheek in a broad calloused palm. Looking deep into her eyes, he whispered, “I dearly lust that ye do remain, Sarah. I truly do.”

Dare he kiss her? Aye, he must. How else would she ken what lurked beneath his breast, in his soul? He settled his lips on hers, marvelling at their soft texture. When a groan escaped her, he, heart soaring, deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, stroking her as his hands longed to do.

Please say aye, that ye’ll stay.

Too soon she pulled back and his arms, which had boldly found their way about her, reluctantly fell away.

“Oh, Hamish.” She traced his lips with a delicate touch. Seeing her bonnie brown eyes grow glossy, his hopes again soared.

“I want to stay. Truly. But the other boys have parents and they’re doubtless frantic with worry by now. I
have
to get them back. Somehow, some way. I don’t want to leave. I
have
to.” She took a deep shaking breath. “I understand why you can’t take us to Edinburgh but would you be willing to lead us part of the way? So we won’t get lost.”

So, ’tis the end after all.

He took her right hand in his and heaved a resigned sigh. “Ye dinna have to go to Edinburgh, lass. I think – nay, I believe – all ye and the lads need do to return home is to wish whilst in this pool. ’Tis all I did to make the fish and coos come. To make ye and the lads come.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Whilst bathing, I was pondering this place, how lovely ’twas but how lonely. I wished I had someone to share it with and—” he snapped his fingers “—there ye all were.”

She shook her head. “An explosion sent us here.”

“Mayhap, or mayhap my wish and your world simply aligned.” He forced a smile. “Or collided.”

The next morning at dawn Hamish stood in his magic pool next to Sarah. The lads, silent and dressed again in their yellow livery, stood by her side. Praying his stoic countenance would remain intact – wouldn’t collapse and expose the heartache already tearing him asunder – he reached betwixt the folds of his plaid and pulled out the five wooden animals he’d made for each of the lads. The most complex, a long-horned coo, he gave to Ty. “To remember me and the coos by.”

Lastly he turned to Sarah. He removed one of the brass cuffs that had belonged to his father and his father before him, a symbol of his once proud lineage, and placed it about her upper arm for it was too large for her wrist, and squeezed. When satisfied it would not fall off, he took her right hand in his. “I shall miss ye most dearly but wish ye well.”

BOOK: The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance
2.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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