Chapter Eleven

The sword cut through the air with a resounding swoosh as Erin attempted to battle the fury boiling in his veins. Of all the women to fall in love with, he had to fall for a Campbell, the mortal enemy of his clan, and the daughter of the man who’d tried to steal his sister and make her his whore.

The hatred between the Campbells and MacLeans went back generations. His own mother had been kidnapped by them as they plotted to take his home before he was born. Many of the scars on his body had been the work of a Campbell. But Gorin Campbell was the most evil of men.

Why had the fates done this to him? What had he done to receive such a punishment? Was it because he longed to be here and not in the past where his duty lay? Was it because he envied his aunt and uncle in their freedom to live in either time, and to see the world and revel in all its wonders?

“She cannot be blamed for who sired her, Erin,” Ian said, his voice low but firm.

He lowered the sword, his body spent and damp with sweat, and turned to face him. “She is a Campbell, none the less.”

“Aye, which would lend a reason to her stubbornness.”

“’Tis no laughing matter, Uncle.”

He strode across the room and returned the sword to the wall beside his father’s. His gaze lingered over the blade, his duty to his clan reverberating in his ears.

He could not have her, he could not wed a Campbell. “She is a Campbell, the offspring of the vilest of men to have ever taken a breath. Do you no’ recall what havoc Gorin brought to our clan not but a few months ago? How he murdered, plotted, planned? The man should have been run through for what he did to my family.”

“And bring about a war between the clans? Your father knew it was not the work of the clan, but of one man.”

He waved off his uncle’s response. “She is still a Campbell.”

“Do you think that because of her birth name, because of who her father is, she is not a worthy choice? Are you so prejudiced that you would throw away love because of a name, of something beyond her control?”

The anger in his uncle’s voice, brought Erin’s gaze to his. “But I canna—”

“You cannot? For the whole of my life I struggled against such bigotry. The bastard son of a baron, with no title, no prospects, no future. It was by the grace of God that I found Jenny, a woman who cared not of my station in life. A woman who judged me by my own merits, and not by my name or consequence.”

“But Uncle—”

“Nay, I wish not to hear another word. I have heard all the obscenities from you I can bear. To turn your back on love because of a name, makes me ashamed to be your godfather.”

He spun on his heels and stomped up the stairs leaving Erin to stand in disgrace, his heart all but shattered by how he’d hurt his uncle, and how unfair he was being to Heather. Her cries and pleading in her sleep made sense now. If she had not run, she would have likely perished at the hands of Gorin, just as her poor mother had.

Burt would have no surrogate sister, and Erin never would have met her and grown to love her as he did.

“I am such a fool.”

Whether she loved him or not, whether they could be together or not, would not be decided by who her parents were. Such a thing was but an excuse, a place to lay blame, an easy excuse to avoid the greater obstacles in his path.

Letting go of his hate for the Campbells was no simple task, but Heather had never done ought to him and was not privy to her ancestors’ ill deeds, nor had she ever taken part in them. She was just a babe when she ran away. How could he be such a fool to throw away what they might have together because of a past she had nothing to do with?

He quickly washed the sweat from his body and went in search of his uncle. He owed him an apology and would need his and his godmother’s help in convincing Heather of her true origins.

Although he held barely any hope that it would sway her to return with him, her memories of his time that of fear and pain, she had a right to know where she came from, and a chance to make peace with her past. And he wanted to give her that peace if nothing else.

****

Heather overheard Ian and Erin talking about introducing a Campbell to Erin’s parents. Not one to be shy where her life was involved, she stepped into the library.

“So, you have more guests coming?” she asked. “If I’m taking up too much room, I can leave.”

“No!” Erin burst out, then looked chagrined. “I mean, no, we aren’t expecting more guests.”

Ian tried to hide his grin, and said, “No, my dear. We were talking about visiting Erin’s parents and taking you and Burt with us.”

“Oh.” She moved into the room and stood behind a small chair. She ran her hand along its back, glancing at Erin then at the wood beneath her fingers. “And, um why would you want to do that? I mean, have Erin’s parents meet Burt and me.”

Ian disappeared through the doorway, leaving them alone, but she’d not missed his teasing grin.

Erin moved to her side, a soft smile upon his face. “If you doona know by now, Heather, I’ve no’ been doing a verra good job of showing you how I feel.”

She tilted up her chin. “I find it best to never assume what goes on in other people’s heads.”

“Aye, ’tis safer that way.”

She opened her mouth, then snapped her lips closed. She hated it when he was right. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Although that wasn’t true, she always felt it the better way to go when personal stuff like feelings were involved.

With a huff, disgusted more with herself than how well he knew her, she spun and headed for the door. “Do whatever you want, you always do anyway.”

He snagged her by the arm before she could get through the doorway.

“You’re a Campbell, ’tis no doubt about that,” he snapped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Lass, the Campbells and the MacLeans doona care for one another. Our clans have been fighting for more years than I can count. Although of late, there is a bit of a truce.”

“Fighting over what?”

“Land, cattle, and other things, but it doesna matter. Not now.”

She shook her head. “Then I’m totally confused. What does my being a Campbell have to do with anything?”

“The only way to explain it is to show you.”

“Show me what?”

“My world. Where I come from.”

“You want me to fly to Scotland so I can see how your family lives like it’s ancient history?” She shook her head, not understanding what the heck was going on with him all of a sudden. “I don’t understand why this is so important. One minute you’re mad at me, for who knows what, and the next you want me to meet your parents.”

“’Tis important that you see where I come from. Where—we come from.”

“We?” Her stomach sank and her heart raced. “No, you can’t be serious. I—I did not dream that. I’d remember that. I know I would.” She couldn’t hide the doubt in her voice.

He pulled her close. “I am most serious, lass.”

She shook her head. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be telling her she was from his wacky world. But deep in her gut she knew. “That’s what I was running from, wasn’t it? I lived like you did, but something—happened.”

“Aye, leannan.”

She slipped from his arms and sank to the small sofa by the window as a cacophony of images flashed through her mind, and few of them pleasant. “I think you’d better tell me everything I said in my sleep, MacLean. All of it, because I’m not liking the pictures popping into my head right now.”

He sat on the coffee table before her and took her hands in his. “I will tell you all that you have said, but know that I am here and will aid you through this.”

She felt her lips quiver and her eyes grow damp. The past wasn’t pleasant, she knew that, and had a hard time making her butt stay on the sofa. Her instincts were to run, to escape, and to never look back, but she didn’t think that tactic would work any longer. She’d finally come up against the brick wall she knew she would face one day.

She took a deep breath, and said, “Spit it out.”

He nodded and looked at her hands, now griping his with as much strength as she could muster.

“Much of what you said was in in the old tongue.” He gave her a look when she jerked at that, but she kept her mouth shut. Like it or not, she had to hear it.

“I will translate, but you do know Gaelic, lass. It was the first of many clues as to where you come from. And when I heard you say your full name, I knew for certain.

“Most of your dreams were of the same scene repeated over and over. You begged your father to not harm your mother. He would beat her for no’ bearing him a son. On this particular day, you decided to try and stop him, and for fear that you would be harmed, your mother told you to run away.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, as a world, far removed from the present appeared in her mind.

“I remember. I would hear him slapping her and cursing. One day I couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed his arm and begged him to stop. I remember the pure hatred in his eyes when he looked at me. Mother knew what he was about to do. He wanted to kill me. So she told me to run and never come back.”

Her faraway gaze cleared, and she looked at Erin sitting there holding her hands, his face contorted with worry.

“You know what happened to them. To my parents, don’t you?”

“Aye.”

She clenched her jaw and gazed into his sorrowful eyes. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“’Tis said he killed her. We doona know the truth of it, but she is dead. He, however, still lives, although will ne’er see the light of day again.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “Because he killed my mother.”

He dropped his gaze to their hands. “Nay. There was no one of his clan willing to rise against him and as I said, the cause of her death is no’ clear.”

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “So how did he finally get put away?”

With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head, his deep brown eyes filled with pain. “He killed one of our guards and kidnapped my sister.”

Her mouth fell open but not a word could she utter. That explained a lot. “Did he—did he hurt her?”

“Nay.” His lips twisted into a wry grin. “Deidra dealt him a bit of her temper, but his plans for her were no’ pleasant.”

She nodded, understanding his inference, and remembering the man who was…is her father. She had no doubt of the heinous acts he would’ve committed.

“But why did he do it? I mean, wouldn’t he have just taken another woman as his wife from within the clan or something?”

“He wanted to join the clans and rule them both. MacLean land is a prize to be had. It has a strategic position o’er looking the loch.”

“But your father—”

“Gorin knew that if he could get Deidra away where we could not get to her, my parents would’ve done anything he wanted to keep her alive.”

“Bastard,” she said with a snarl.

“Aye, he is that.” He smiled. “But no more of this talk. It is all in the past.”

“Yeah, go figure. My past isn’t what I thought it would be, not by a long shot.”

He squeezed her hands, then lifted them to his lips, and she smiled at the soft kiss he pressed against them.

Then her smile fell as other thoughts popped into her head. “Wait. I remember being from Scotland and doing the whole medieval thing, even the Gaelic—a little—but how did I get here? I mean, to the U.S. I couldn’t have flown from Scotland, I was just a little girl.”

“Ah, that is something that will be verra difficult to explain, and mayhap should be left for another time.”

“No. I want it all. Right now.”

“I fear this is a grave mistake, but if it is your wish, I will tell you.”

Erin swallowed hard, terrified of her response, but knowing that to put it off would do him no favors. “There is a spring near my home. One that has unusual powers.”

“You mean like healing powers?”

“Nay, the water is a carrier of a sort. It—that is to say—it carries a person through time.”

He paused, letting that sink in for a moment, while trying to read her expression, but her face was a complete blank.

“If you step in the water on the solstice, it will carry you through time to another century,” he continued. “One can only return on the following solstice.”

She blinked owlishly at him, then withdrew her hands from his, which had grown cold as ice.

“My aunt and uncle have found other such streams. One in particular allows for traveling whenever you like as long as the water is gathered on the solstice. That is how I came to be here. My brother-in-law thought I wished to see this time and sent me here. And we believe that you must have found a similar spring on Campbell land. ’Twould explain the reason you were found by a stream. When you use the water at its source, it moves you from water to water, but we’ve found this new spring takes you to where and when you wish to be.”

He was rambling like an old woman, anything to fill the silence and to explain things as best he could, but he knew full well that he’d blundered. She would never understand about the traveling. No one would unless they’d seen it, or experienced it for themselves.

“I think—I think I have a headache. If you’ll excuse me.” She rose and slipped from the library without another word.

Not sure what to do, he paced across his uncle’s fine rug, running over the facts as he’d explained them, until he could no longer stand the thought of her thinking him an idiot. He had to try again and prove to her what he was saying was true. But as he stepped through the doorway, he found her coming down the stairs with a small satchel in her hand.

She was leaving him.

Never had he felt such pain. It was as if his heart had been pulled from his chest and the air ripped from his lungs. Even knowing who she was, who her father was, had not hurt this much.

Heather paused on the stairs at the sight of Erin looking up at her, the disappointment on his face, the stark sadness in his deep brown eyes. But how could she stay after what he’d told her?

Of all the whoppers she’d heard in her day, he had to choose time travel? The reenactment thing was bad enough, and she really hadn’t totally swallowed it until Jenny confirmed it along with her own memories, but he had to be crazy if he actually believed he’d come from the past.

She shook her head, determined to live through the next few moments although she was dying inside, and continued down the stairs.

“I doona blame you for no’ believing me,” he said. “Even I would find it difficult. But if you would let me show you…”

Shaking her head, she said, “I’ve seen and heard enough.” She stepped around him and called for Burt, hoping he could hear her over the blast of the TV.

He appeared within moments, a major surprise, but she was grateful for that one small miracle. She could barely stand in the same room with Erin. He had no idea how much his stupid story ripped at her heart, a heart she knew had fallen for the handsome Highlander. She just didn’t know how hard until now.

“What’s up?” Burt asked.

“I’m leaving. It’s time I moved on. I just didn’t want to leave without you knowing.”

He looked to Erin then back to her. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, sweetie. I think you’re better off here. I’ll send you a note and let you know where I am. I promise.”

With a nod and a tear in his eye, he disappeared up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“You doona have to go,” Erin said. “If you wish, I will confine myself to yon garage, or mayhap below stairs. You need no’ look upon me, if that is what you wish. I vow it.” His voice had grown hoarse on his last words and raked unforgivingly at her heart.

“I can’t,” she choked out. Swallowing her tears as best she could, she turned toward the door. “Tell, Ian and Jenny thanks. And—and thank you for helping me remember where I came from,” she said, and went out into the snow.

The stillness that fell over the house settled like a mantle over Erin. He’d never known such regret, such loss in his life.

“Where’s she going?” Jenny asked, as she appeared from the main room.

“Away,” Erin said, his voice tight and constricted.

“You told her. Ian!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Ian hurried into the hall.

“He told her.”

Ian looked at Erin and shook his head. “I warned you against it, son.”

Jenny grabbed Ian’s coat and threw it at him. “Well, don’t just stand there, go get her!”

“Right. And get her to come back how?”

“Tell her…tell her we’ll press charges. Now hurry, before she catches a ride with someone and we lose track of her!”

“I do love a brilliant woman.” Ian pecked a kiss on his wife’s lips and rushed from the house while struggling to put on his coat.

“’Tis no use, Aunt. She wants naught to do with me.”

“That may be, but she won’t have much choice when she sees it all for herself. Now get your things together,” she said, hurrying up the stairs. “We’ll have to be quick with the water when Ian brings her back. I don’t want to waste any of it throwing it around the room. There’s no telling the chaos that could cause.

“Burt! We’ve got some packing to do, and quick.” She disappeared down the hall, leaving Erin standing at the foot of the stairs.

Would it work? Or would she hate him for it?

He moved into the living room and looked at all the wonderful things of this time and knew she wouldn’t enjoy the harshness of his world—their world. Burt, on the other hand, might like it for a small spell. But either way, it was his only chance.

He couldn’t let her go without a fight. He couldn’t let her go on thinking him a lunatic. If she didn’t wish to be his, then he would live with her decision, but it would be one made with all the facts, and no more lies.