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Nunton House on the Isle of Benbecula, Scotland
June 1746
“Ye’re saying the estate of Lord Clanranald becomes an inn?”
“Close enough.”
Ginny squeezed Coll’s hand as he helped her climb over the bow of his father’s birlinn and onto solid ground once again. Sometimes she thought if she never saw another boat, it would be too soon. Another awaited her shortly. Thankfully, modern ferries were a far cry from wee single sail boats that bobbed like crazy on the open water.
“And ye stayed here?”
“I considered it. The cottage on South Uist that was far nicer though,” she told him as they walked up the beach and around the side of the manor where they would be out of sight of the oarsmen waiting on the boat.
“It was rather nice.” He nuzzled her neck with a husky laugh. “Yer future provides for cold drinks and warm beds. What more could a man ask?”
“You think a modern kitchen and bathroom are all the future holds?” She laughed. “You hardly took a step beyond the beach.”
“I dinnae need to. I had all I needed.”
There’d been plenty of time during the trip across the Minch to answers his questions about her time and her home. He’d asked her about Prince Charlie’s safety, something she assured him she would look into. Coll was mostly curious about her family and the stories she shared about growing up with her sisters. He said he wanted to know her, not a place essentially in a faraway land. He did have questions about the impending vote for Scotland to regain its sovereignty free of Great Britain and the politics behind it. Unfamiliar with the referendum, she’d offered to read up on it while she was gone.
Then impulsively invited him along to find out for himself.
To her surprise, he accepted and—rather bravely, in Ginny’s opinion—agreed to spend a few days at the blackhouse cottage she’d rented on South Uist. Though cautious, he hadn’t floundered as he’d feared he might, and his natural inquisitiveness triumphed in the end. They’d fed his political curiosity and the desire to spend more time together with long walks on the beach and basked in glorious sunsets. With the familiar, rustic structure and solitary location as a backdrop, he’d been able to take a few baby steps into the future. Mostly, they’d made good use of bed, shower, kitchen counter...A slow, satisfied smile tugged at her lips. They’d spent days making love.
And putting off the inevitable before making the short journey to Nunton where she’d left Donell’s car.
It was enough of a stretch for him. Maybe someday he would test his footing farther afield from the isolation of the Outer Hebrides.
If there was a someday.
Slipping her arms over his shoulders, Ginny kissed him softly. Then realizing how long it might be—for her—before she saw him again, kissed him as if it were her last chance. His arms came around her, clutching her as if he sensed it, too.
“Go inside and have some tea. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.” She drew away and smiled up at him, aware that the playful mood of moments before was quickly fading away. “Literally, before you know I’m gone. I promise.”
His nod was stiff. Their return to his time only seconds after leaving, with the oarsmen still waiting patiently where they’d left them at the boat, had astounded Coll but also reinforced her meaning. He had no reason to worry.
Yet he clearly did.
As did she.
“You can come with me.”
Please come with me.
“Aye, so ye’ve said.” Coll offered a tight smile and handed over her backpack. “Ye ken where I stand, lass. Seek the answers ye need. I will be here when ye return.”
He kissed her hand and whispered his farewell, clearly torn between uncertainty and faith in her word. He needn’t be. She would be back. For a proper goodbye if nothing else.
He did not tell her he loved her again.
Ginny supposed one could only say it so many times without hearing the words echoed in return. Once he rounded the corner, she dug the time machine out of her bag. Her limbs were leaden with anxiety. She pressed the button that she hoped would bring her the answers she needed.
Did she or didn’t she?
That was what she needed to figure out.
* * *
Present Day
“Oh my God, Gin, where have you been?”
Ginny winced and turned down the hands-free speaker volume in Donell’s car.
“Everyone’s worried about you. I didn’t know what to tell anyone!”
Reception on the island being what it was, it had been weeks since they’d spoken. A ferry ride and the entire island of Skye behind her, she’d finally found the coverage— and nerve—to call and confess the bare bones of her problem.
“I have no idea what to do.” She blurted it out. No context, no clue to what she referred.
Brontë caught on quick. “Give me some background here. Tell me about him. When’s he from?”
Ginny could just picture her sister plopping down on the bed, getting comfortable for a long talk. The sort they hadn’t had in years but that she desperately needed now. She needed a sister. A friend.
“His name is Coll MacLeod. Cailin,” she said. “It’s the summer after the Battle of Culloden which he fought in. He lives at Dunchleach Castle.”
“Oh,” Brontë sighed. “I’ve heard the gardens are beautiful.”
A chuckle bubbled in Ginny’s throat. “They’re working on it.”
“And I remember you saying he’s perfect.”
“Nobody’s perfect, right? I mean, he’s kind, loyal.”
This time her sister’s sigh was a bit more exasperated. “He’s not a puppy, Gin. At least I hope not.” When Ginny didn’t respond right away, she added, “Well, come on, what’s he like?”
The moment she thought about Coll, a pang of yearning struck her. “He’s strong-willed, willing to fight for what he wants and what he believes in. He’s that guy who will make the sacrifice for what he wants.”
“Hmm. How about a sense of humor? Does he make you laugh?”
“It’s subtle but there. I wouldn’t say I laugh so much as smile.”
There was a heartbeat of a pause. “Wow. From you, that’s saying a lot. I can’t wait to meet him.”
“Can you?” Ginny got to one of the major sticking points. “Can anything come of it?”
“If you want it to. Do you?”
She veered away from the question. “I’m not sure I have a say in the matter. My situation isn’t like yours. I’m not a part of Donell’s master plan and every time I’ve gone back, I seem to have made things worse. Right and wrong are warring in my mind. It seems so obvious that it’s wrong, from the time perspective.”
“Believe me, if your being there was a problem, Donell would have yanked you out of there straight away,” Brontë assured her. “If he let you stay, maybe it was meant to be. Is it?”
It sure felt like it.
Her pause said more than she intended. Her sister’s sigh flowed from the speakers. “There’s the sister I know and love. Second guessing everything. Stressing about things before there’s even something to stress about. Let me guess, you’ve got What-Could-Go-Wrong’s greatest hits playing on a continuous loop in your head?”
Ginny winced. Brontë did know her pretty well. She almost wished Donell were there now. To take the choice out of her hands.
“You want the entire playlist?”
“Knowing you? God, no. Let’s do the top ten.”
Changing lanes to pass a puttering lorry, Ginny tried to sort through her issues. “He’s from another time, for starters. There’s a lot of downsides in that.”
“We’re not talking about the lack of good pizza delivery,” Brontë clucked her tongue.
“It’s not only the lack of pizza and decent plumbing. There’s horses and an ungodly number of boats involved.”
“That’s just more problems with the pizza. C’mon, Gin. Give me something real.”
“It’s a legitimate point! He’s lives in the mid-1700s. I mean there’s long distance relationships then there’s long distance relationships, right? If I stayed there, there would be a learning curve so I don’t keep standing out like a sore thumb.”
“I get it. It’s a rough life.”
Yet she felt alive for the first time in a long time.
That truth tugged on her heartstrings.
There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “He must have told you he loves you to have you in such a tizzy.”
The area she was passing through wasn’t far from the route they’d taken after leaving Invergarry Castle. Clouds hung low to the rugged landscape, clinging to the green moors broken by gray outcroppings of rock. Unlike her homeland, Scotland called to her heart in so many ways.
“He said I am home to him.”
“Nice.”
Ginny jerked the wheel speeding around another car. “No, not nice. Look at me. Look at my history of failed relationships. I’m not home. I’m-I’m temporary housing!”
And maybe that was the crux of the problem. Ugh, did she think she wasn’t loveable enough?
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Brontë said softly. “I think we can safely place the reasons for your divorce on Luke.”
“Maybe.” Ginny gnawed her lower lip. For the first time since she’d left him, she could accept that the majority of the problems with her marriage were because of Luke. “I’m sure I did something to play a part in it. Maybe I could have been less independent. More willing to let him be the man.”
“You mean, be someone else entirely.” Her sister clucked her tongue the way their mother used to. “Gin, you bent in every direction to placate him even when you shouldn’t have. You don’t need to do that to have a happy relationship.”
“Really? If I stayed with Coll, there would be a fair amount of bending involved.”
“Bending to a time zone isn’t the same as changing who you are for another person,” Brontë argued. “I’m going to ask you to trust me on that.”
Ginny tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, mind racing faster than the vehicle. She did. And that really wasn’t the problem, was it?
Traffic slowed as she rolled into Invergarry, a good-sized town where one had barely existed. Once through, she searched for the castle but couldn’t see anything past the treelined road.
“I told you before, I’ve been through some dark shit with Luke. I don’t think I could ever bear to go there again.”
“And I told you, sometimes you have to walk through some shit to be able to appreciate the scent of the roses.”
“Yea, what is that supposed to mean exactly?”
“It means, you can’t appreciate the light if you’ve never been lost in the dark. I could probably give you a dozen other variations but I know you get my meaning. ”
She didn’t need them. She understood perfectly now.
I thought I would dwell in darkness for the rest of my days but ye’ve given me light.
He’d done the same for her.
“It all seems so wonderful when I’m with him. What if it doesn’t last?”
There was a split in the road ahead. Her GPS told her to keep right. The posted sign hinted she should do something different.
“You’re afraid you’ll regret staying with him?”
No. That wasn’t what she was afraid of at all.
“Ginny?”
“Um, let me call you back. I think there’s something I need to do first.”
“Gin—”
Ginny ended the call and gripped the wheel.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.