Present day, Manhattan
Finn tossed a glance over his shoulder to make sure he’d ditched the woman who tailed him from the club, the fourth woman who’d propositioned him during his workout. He’d have to talk to management and find out what they served at the juice bar.
Whatever it was, they needed to stop.
He strode into the steel and glass high-rise office building where his family’s prestigious consulting firm maintained their New York offices and with a nod to the security guard, rode the elevator to the executive level.
“Good afternoon, Mr. MacIntyre,” The receptionist greeted him with a smile. “Your admin collected your mail and…your magazine.”
“Magazine?”
“Yeah. Trendsetters.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Trendsetters? He didn’t subscribe to that gossip rag. He skirted his admin’s empty desk, walked into his office and fell into his leather chair.
“Hey, boss.” His admin strolled in carrying the mail.
“What’ve we got?”
She handed over the pile.
“What the hell is this?” He threw the recent issue of Trendsetters magazine onto the mahogany desk and shoved the other mail to the side.
His administrative assistant leaned against the doorjamb, sporting a snarky smile. He lowered his gaze and glared at his damn face staring back from the glossy cover along with the words Finn MacIntyre—Trendsetter’s Best Catch of the Year in bold type.
“Shit. I didn’t authorize this.”
He dragged his hands through his hair. That explained the aggressive women. Crap. This wasn’t something he wanted to deal with after the unsuccessful trip to Beijing. He had to get out of town until this blew over. “Get my cousin Laurie on the phone. Her new number is in contacts.”
He thrummed his fingers on the desk.
“Pick up line two. They say she isn’t there,” the admin yelled from her desk a few minutes later.
Finn grabbed the receiver and pressed the line button. “Hello?” He listened intently to what the person on the other end relayed. “What do you mean she’s been gone for a month?” More listening. More disbelieving. He leaned forward in his chair. “Just who the hell are Caitrina and Munn?”
* * *
Castle Lachlan
Morning dawned with the castle shrouded in thick mist, the air raw and damp. The little group, wrapped in heavy plaids, stood huddled on the shingle, waiting while a couple of men pulled two small, oared boats over the beach and into the water. The tide was high at this early hour and the tang of brine filled Laurie’s nostrils.
Elspeth’s gaze kept darting nervously to the opposite shore.
“Is something wrong?” Laurie whispered.
The young woman leaned in close. “I want to be on our way before Patrick returns from patrol.”
Laurie suspected Elspeth didn’t wish to lie to her brother or face him with half-truths that would provoke his suspicion. Laurie could imagine what Patrick would do if he learned what they planned. She feared he’d stop them and punish them both. After all, he forbade her to attempt to return home.
Would he miss her after she was gone?
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t allow herself to think about that.
Laurie eyed the small boats and worried her lower lip. She wasn’t used to traveling by boat. Of course, that was the least of her concerns. More importantly, how would she get to Fir-wood once they landed on the mainland? And what would she do once she got to the forest?
Would Caitrina show up and try to prevent her from returning to the future?
Egads. So many things to worry about.
Elspeth gave her a reassuring smile as they climbed into the boats. Laurie, Duncan and a guardsman in one. Elspeth, Aine and the other guardsman in the second. The oarsmen made short work of rowing across to the mainland beach. They climbed out of the boats and onto the shore, Laurie relieved to be across. From there, they ascended a rise, passed the orchard, and on to the stable.
Young grooms brought out mares for the women. Attached to their flanks hung small leather panniers designed to carry refreshments for the day and the young plants on the return trip. No one seemed to find this odd for Elspeth was known for her excursions into the fields and woods in search of plants for the castle garden. Meanwhile, the men readied their larger stallions.
It took Laurie some time to get accustomed to riding in her long skirt with the heavy apron atop, and one of Patrick’s large plaids wrapped around her for warmth. His scent lingered on the fabric, teasing her. She would never forget him. She clutched the wool near her heart and blinked away unexpected moisture from her eyes.
Elspeth had given her Patrick’s plaid and lent her a pair of riding boots, but although they were both petite, the boots fit snug. Laurie half expected she’d have blisters before the day ended. She ran a hand along the horse’s neck, thankful her uncle encouraged her to take riding lessons in her youth. They came in handy, even though she would surely be sore later. She wouldn’t worry about that now. There was plenty of time to worry once she got home to her own little cottage and soaked her feet in the whirlpool tub.
The little group rode single file on a well-worn track that ran along the edge of a wooded tract. The fog was less dense here and the visibility better. They traveled above the loch and when the mist gradually cleared, beautiful views appeared off to the west. Hairy, large horned, black cattle and the occasional deer grazed on young green grass in nearby fields. Laurie hardly noticed the beauty, intent on finding a way home.
They’d ridden for about an hour when Elspeth stopped them and they dismounted. The mist had completely burned off. The sun hung low on the eastern sky with clouds blowing in from the north. Elspeth informed the group they would start their search here in this meadow at the edge of the wood.
The men split apart in a triangle around the women, keeping watch for danger.
On their hands and knees, the women searched among the grasses for the precious strawberry plants. When they found a young seedling, they used a small, short-handled spade to dig around the plant, keeping soil on the roots, wrapped them in moist cloths then carefully placed them into the panniers.
Two hours went by and the leather packs were filling. Laurie bit her lip and glanced toward the trail they’d followed earlier. How could she break away from the others and find her way to the forest where Patrick found her?
Elspeth knelt beside her. “After a short respite, I will ask Duncan to guide us to the Fir-wood on our return to the castle,” she murmured close to Laurie’s ear.
“Thank you.” Laurie squeezed the young woman’s hand.
They sat in the meadow on plaids to partake of oatcakes and ale from flasks. Laurie savored the sweet-tasting ale flavored with aromatic plants and herbs. The drink was one thing she might miss once she got home. A pinch near her heart made her breath hitch. She didn’t want to think about other things she’d miss, certainly not a special clan chief.
“Please guide us to the old hut near Fir-wood, Duncan. We wish to seek plants there,” Elspeth said when they’d finished their meal.
He looked at her as if she were insane. “Aye, lass.” He grumbled under his breath as he made ready to leave.
They mounted the horses again and rode a narrow track through dense woodland, Duncan riding at the front of the party with the two guards following. Everyone kept an eye out and listened for wild boar that might spook the horses. Dim light filtered through branches. Thorny bushes snagged the fabric covering Laurie’s legs.
Her anxiety increased with each step the horse took. Wound too tight, like a child’s top, she felt like she might spin out of control at any moment. Finally, they arrived at the old hut. A breeze blew across the meadow. Laurie’s sense of anticipation escalated. She was determined to get home.
They dismounted, and as before, Duncan and his guardsmen spanned out, guarding the perimeter of the area where the women worked to uncover the wild strawberry plants.
Meandering around the meadow, Laurie attempted to appear as if she searched for the tiny plants. She tried to remember exactly where Patrick found her. Maybe the knoll on the other side of the hut. She walked in that direction.
The mound seemed quite ordinary. Not a place of magic.
The only thing growing on the little hillock was rich green grass and toadstools.
She strode to the center and stopped, positive she’d found the spot where she’d fallen at Patrick’s feet. She shot a glance at each of her companions. Duncan held a rigid stance, staring into the trees at the edge of the knoll, guarding them against any potential danger.
* * *
Patrick shook his head. His man needed some additional training if he didn’t spy Patrick hidden in the coppice of trees. He’d sat on the thick branch high up in the large oak since before daybreak. He’d predicted Laurie would sneak off to Fir-wood and try to return home to her own century, though he didn’t believe she possessed the ability. Last night, he’d guessed what the two women were contriving when Elspeth made her request. So here he sat on his rump waiting.
Waiting for what? He didn’t know.
He kneaded his stiff neck with his fingers, while holding on to an overhanging branch with the other hand for balance. He yawned. Patrolling the MacLachlan border through the night left him near to exhaustion. They’d been lucky, finding no trouble.
Clansmen slept soundly in their beds. Cattle grazed unmolested, guarded by few sleepy keepers. Lambkins sought their mother’s tits while herders huddled by dwindling fires.
Before returning to the castle, Patrick rode to this spot to wait for Elspeth and Laurie. Frustrated he hadn’t caught the perpetrators of the previous raid, yet glad all was quiet, he climbed the ancient oak and watched the sunrise. His tail, some of his best men, waited in a clearing not far away, close enough if he needed assistance.
The lass’s movements caught his attention.
Laurie closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. She felt nothing. Spinning around in a circle, she still felt nothing. Sitting down, there was nothing. No tinkling sound. Not even the mere hint of an exotic scent in the air. There was no impression of unnatural energy, nor unusual surge of power. No bright, white light, nor kaleidoscope colors.
There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
Elspeth and Aine continued working, collecting plants a short distance away. The guardsmen paid little attention to Laurie, intent on watching for trouble.
Several hours passed with her sitting on Patrick’s plaid in the center of the knoll with nothing happening, at least, nothing magical. She couldn’t concentrate. Her thoughts strayed, her mind’s eye seeing Patrick. She imagined him walking toward her, through a wildflower meadow, his gait determined. His chestnut hair pulled back in a tight queue. His hungry, dark eyes sought hers. As he neared, her heart raced. She wanted to reach out and touch him.
Then his image faded.
Stop it, her mind screamed. She glanced around the knoll, chills raced along her spine. It was imperative she stay focused on the task at hand, not dream about the man who made her heart throb erratically. She couldn’t allow her purpose to cloud with her attraction to Patrick. Staying wasn’t an option. She needed to go home.
Mid-afternoon, the rest of the group ate and drank the leftover food. Laurie refused to join them. If anyone thought this strange, they didn’t comment.
Finally, the panniers were full of plants and the group readied to return to the castle. The others mounted their horses, except for Elspeth.
Laurie still sat in the center of the knoll, her hands folded in her lap. Elspeth approached. “Nothing has happened. You remain.”
Tears burned the back of Laurie’s eyes, but she refused to shed them. She held her head high while she gazed at Elspeth.
The young woman gave her a half smile. “We must return to the castle before darkness falls. Mayhap ’twill work another day.”
“Yes, I’ll return. Perhaps another time.” Laurie’s shoulders sagged. What did she think would happen? Was she foolish enough to believe by just standing there she’d miraculously return home?
She walked with Elspeth to the horses. They mounted while the rest of the group quietly watched. Then they rode in the direction of the castle.
Caitrina said she needed to find her destiny. Was Patrick truly her destiny?
* * *
Patrick sat in his treetop hideout grinning like a fool. The lass would stay. She couldn’t leave! He had time to persuade her to become his mistress. Jubilant, he jumped to the ground and ran through the woods toward the spot where the men and horses waited.
As he rounded a thicket, a moaning noise caught his attention, a sound not of the wood. He stopped. Standing perfectly still and quiet, he listened. The noise came again. He pulled out his knife while peering into the thicket.
There it was again.
He moved with stealth, his body tense, alert to danger, movements calculated, ready for attack. Pushing aside some branches, he found a motionless form behind the undergrowth. Patrick eased closer. Reaching out with his foot, he nudged the body. It didn’t move. He reached down and rolled the man over.
Ruari MacLachlan, a kinsman, a clan herdsman, moaned but didn’t stir.
Patrick knelt next to the injured man and gently tried to rouse him. The young man was insensible but still breathed. Patrick ran his hands over the man. No blood. Nothing more than a bump on the lad’s head.
“What befell you, Ruari?” he murmured.
Patrick shook his head and, with a sharp whistle, signaled for his lads to come to him.
Within a blink, the men who made up his tail surrounded him. Big men, they were strongly built and well armed. Stephen stepped from among the others and knelt on the ground next to Patrick, his gaze fixed on young Ruari. “What do you think happened?”
“I ken not. He is a long way from home. Have some of the men make a litter. Dispatch one of the ghillies with a message, our swiftest runner, to the castle. Send two scouts south, fast riders, to his dwelling to search for signs of trouble.”