The Highlander's Keep (Searching for a Highlander Book 2) Page 3

  “Aye, the bairns sleep, and Sarah plays wi her doll. I left Andrew to watch over them.”

  “Good, thank you. John should be home soon with the boys and Archibald.”

  Mistress Glick turned to her brown bottle and poured some amber liquid into one of the pewter cups on the table. She pulled up a high-back wooden chair from the table and sat down, extending the cup to me.

  “Drink this now, dearie. It will help wi the pain.”

  Ann lifted my head slightly as I obediently took the cup, seemingly with no will of my own.

  “What is it?” I asked as I drank.

  “Whisky,” Mistress Glick said...too late.

  I sputtered as the whisky burned my throat. The coughing caused another lashing of pain down my back. Ann hastily grabbed the cup from me and lowered me.

  “I’m sorry. I should have warned you that it was whisky,” Ann said.

  Mistress Glick tsked sympathetically.

  “I don’t drink!” I gasped, the liquid warming my throat and my stomach.

  “You will if you stay here long enough,” she murmured. “Now, drink some more.” She lifted me again and offered the cup. “It’s all we can do for your pain right now. We have to take a look at your back. You don’t appear to be bleeding, and I’m not sure what we can do if your injury is internal, but we should look anyway.”

  I drank another gulp of whisky, and Ann encouraged me to drink yet another before lowering me back to the bed.

  “Can’t you just call the local hospital or...do you drive, Torq? Do you have a vehicle? Where is Debra? She has a car. She drove us here. What about Dylan?”

  “No, honey. We can’t do any of that. Otherwise, Torq would be racing out of here with you in his arms. He’s just that kind of guy.” Ann threw a grin over her shoulder at the unsmiling relative.

  He didn’t respond in kind but continued to watch everything, as if standing guard.

  “Do ye think she is ready to be examined?” Mistress Glick asked.

  “A few more sips, and she’ll be out like a light,” Ann said.

  I protested weakly, but she lifted me again and held the cup to my lips. I eyed Torq over the edge of the cup. He didn’t drop his eyes, but continued to watch me. I didn’t know what was more intoxicating—the alcohol or the staring redhead.

  The room swam, not the least because I was being turned on my side. Through the fog of whisky, I heard Ann call Torq’s name. His capable hands came around me, lifting me while Ann and Mistress Glick peeled off my jacket.

  “Then ye dinna ken the lass, Ann?” he asked in a hushed baritone.

  My eyelids slammed shut of their own volition, but I still heard fuzzy voices.

  “No, but she must have found the dagger.”

  “She is garbed as ye were.”

  “I know. We all dress this way...dressed this way. It’s common.”

  “It is wicked. I thought so then, and I think so now.”

  “Oh, Torq.” Ann sighed.

  “Ye can leave the room if ye wish to spout such nonsense, Torq Morrison!” Mistress Glick exclaimed. “We can manage wi’out ye.”

  “Nay, I will stay.”

  “Then keep yer judgements to yerself.”

  “Verra well. I will keep my trap shut,” he growled.

  “Lower her down now. Gently!” Ann said.

  Torq lowered me slowly down onto the bed, and I felt Ann lifting the back of my T-shirt. I managed to pry open one eyelid to see that Torq knelt down on the floor beside the bed. His blue eyes swam in my face as the women poked and prodded my back.

  Even through the dullness granted by the whisky, a sharp, hot pain tore through my back at one particular prod. I screamed...moaned. I thought I screamed.

  Torq took my hands. “Have courage, lass!”

  “I’m sorry, Cyn,” Ann said from behind me. “I’m trying not to hurt you. I don’t see any compound fractures or breaks in the skin, but I can’t tell if you have small fractures or anything. Your back is pretty red. In fact, I think it’s already starting to bruise along your lower back. I think the best thing we can do is keep you still for a day or two, then reassess you.”

  “Call the doctor,” I said on a heavy sigh, expelling the rest of my waking air. Then I fell asleep, clutching the silky tendrils of a red beard.

  Chapter Three

  I opened my eyes to darkness. A single ray of moonlight drifted in through a small opening high up on the wall. The keep! Night had fallen, and I was still in the keep! Why?

  I tried to lift up on my elbows, but searing pain shot through my back, and I fell back with a moan.

  “Dinna move, lass,” a deep, throaty voice said near my head.

  I looked over to see Torq’s head near mine, as if he bent near. I assumed he sat in the chair Mistress Glick had vacated.

  “Torq?” I asked. “Why am I still here? Why didn’t someone take me to the hospital? This doesn’t feel right.”

  “I dinna ken this hospital, lass, but ye are still here because ye canna be moved. Lady Morrison has retired for the night, the village is asleep, and I am watching over ye. Do ye care for more whisky?”

  My stomach lurched.

  “No, I don’t think so. Is there any water?”

  “Aye, but no for ye. Lady Morrison didna wish for ye to drink water until she speaks to ye on the morrow.”

  “The morrow,” I whispered. “I guess I’ll have some whisky. I’m really thirsty. Did you really say ‘on the morrow’?”

  “Aye, although the morn will come in a few hours.”

  He rose and turned toward the table to pour out some whisky.

  “You must have good night vision,” I said, probably still loopy from my earlier foray into drinking.

  “Do ye mean I see well enough at night? Aye, but no better than any other man, I ken.”

  He returned and knelt beside me.

  “I must lift ye, lass. It will pain ye a wee bit.”

  He slipped his arm underneath my shoulders and lifted me until I begged him to stop.

  “That’s enough. That’s enough,” I panted.

  Torq held the cup for me while I drank. I guzzled it so I could lie back down to ease the shooting pains in my back. He took the cup from me and sat down again.

  “How do ye fare?”

  “I hurt.”

  “Aye, I can see. Ye must have taken quite a tumble, though I still dinna ken how. But there are many things that I dinna understand. Lady Morrison and the laird ken more than I. Mistress Glick as well. Ye come from another time, that is certain.”

  I blinked, thinking I had misunderstood him.

  “What?”

  “I ken where ye come from, but no much more. Lady Morrison keeps the secret close. She and the laird have shared very little and only wi a few people. There are those who might question such matters, who might accuse the mistress of witchcraft.”

  I listened to Torq’s words but continued to hang up on his statement, “Ye come from another time.” His comments about witchcraft only confused me further, and I wondered if the whisky had been laced with peyote or some Scottish equivalent.

  “Can you go get Ann now?” I asked. “I think I need to leave. Or speak to her. Or Debra. Or Dylan. I appreciate you watching over me, Torq, but my gosh, you say the weirdest things. Unless it’s the whisky. Is it the whisky?”

  I couldn’t really make out his expression in the faint light provided by the moon. He rose and stared down at me.

  “I should no have spoken so frankly. It was no my place. I dinna ken where ye think ye must go. Ye need rest. There is naethin to be done tonight. Can ye wait until morn to speak to her ladyship?”

  Sleep dragged me down with it.

  “It can wait,” I sighed before falling over the cliff into oblivion.

  Sometime later, I awakened to the sound of hushed voices. Muted sunlight filled the keep, highlighting the gray stacked stones of the keep’s four walls.

  Four people filled the room to capacity. Ann an
d Mistress Glick bent over me. Torq, in his now-familiar pose, leaned on the wall with crossed arms. Next to him stood another tall Scot watching me with concern. Blond and handsome in a long-haired, bearded Viking sort of way, he also crossed his arms over his broad chest.

  Like Torq, the blond wore a padded dark-blue sleeveless vest fitted with a single row of pewter-colored metal buttons over a loose, long-sleeved white linen shirt. The sword at his belt matched Torq’s in size and beauty with its intricately designed basket hilt. Their kilts, thick with the muted red material, were utterly masculine.

  “Cyn?” Ann said, running a hand over my forehead.

  I didn’t feel like I had a fever.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Hungover, drunk, sore.”

  “Part of that is the whisky. It’s a lot stronger than we’re used to.” She looked over her shoulder. “This is my husband, John Morrison. He was away when you got here, but he looked in on you and Torq last night when he returned. You were sound asleep then.”

  The Scot-Viking bowed.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Dunnon. Welcome to Dun Eistean.”

  I stared at him in wonder, his elegant bow taking me by surprise. Between John and Torq, I couldn’t tell which was the more romantically handsome of the pair.

  “I think it’s time to explain what I think happened to her. Could I speak to her in private for a minute?” Ann said.

  “Aye, that would be best,” Mistress Glick said. She straightened and moved over to stand beside Torq and John.

  Ann leaned near and dropped her voice an octave.

  “Torq told me that you woke in the night, still in a lot of pain, that you asked for a hospital. He also said he told you that you’d come from the future. I wanted to tell you myself this morning when you were sober, but what’s done is done. Listen to me carefully, Cyn. You’ve traveled through time. The year is 1591. Somehow, you got hold of a particular medieval dagger and traveled through time. So did I. I live here now though. I know you probably have a lot of questions, and you may not even know what they are for a while.”

  I stared hard into Ann’s eyes. They were level, concerned, but very sincere. My head swam a bit, maybe from the effects of the whisky, maybe from the dreamlike quality of the past few hours, but I had no doubt that I had probably slipped through some strange portal in time. Obviously, I wasn’t the first, and I probably wouldn’t be the last.

  “How many others are there?” I asked Ann.

  “Do you mean in the village? Or time travelers? There are about forty people at Dun Eistean. It’s a small village, mostly just Morrisons and their kin. We can’t sustain a bunch of people here on the tabletop.”

  “I meant how many time travelers are there?”

  She looked over her shoulder before responding.

  “Just you and me, as far as I know. And frankly, I’m awfully glad to see you. Not that I’m glad you fell through time—if you didn’t want to—but that I’m not the only one who has ever traveled through time.”

  “What were you doing here at Dun Eistean?” I asked Ann.

  “Digging. I was trying to get my six-week dig in to graduate.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “So you didn’t get your degree?”

  Ann chuckled and put a hand to my forehead. “What a strange thing for you to worry about! Yes, as it happens, I actually went back in time—accidentally—and finished my degree. I’m not really using it right now though. Are you okay? I’m not really sure you get the full scope of what has happened to you.”

  I smiled crookedly. “No, I guess that was weird. I was probably just channeling myself. I came to Dun Eistean for my graduate requirement as well.”

  “I figured that out,” Ann said with a grin. “Is your concentration in medieval Scotland?”

  “No, classic Mediterranean. I know. I know I should have gone to Greece, but they didn’t have any available spots there, and I wanted to come to Scotland.”

  “My degree concentration was Colonial America, but I came here instead.”

  “We’ve come a long way, baby,” I mumbled.

  I looked over her shoulder. Torq’s blue eyes kept me under guard.

  “What are they talking about?”

  Ann glanced at the group.

  “Well, I still don’t know a ton of Gaelic, but John is reassuring them that you’re not a ‘spirit’ or a ‘witch.’ As you know, they’re a very superstitious people. Truthfully, Torq and Mistress Glick have both probably figured out that I come from the future, but we don’t exactly ‘say’ it aloud. I think Andrew probably has it figured out as well. The rest of the clan would worry, and if that knowledge got out of Dun Eistean, well, I don’t know what would happen.”

  “I understand.”

  I looked at Torq.

  “I can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time.”

  She followed my eyes.

  “Do you mean Torq?”

  I nodded.

  “He watches me a lot.”

  “He’s a pretty rugged kind of Scotsman. Well, they all are. But Torq keeps his emotions close. Sadly, he lost someone about six months ago, and she was the only person I’ve ever seen bring a smile to his face. But besides that, you can trust him with your life. I do.”

  “I’m so sorry. Who did he lose?”

  “My sister-in-law, Mary, John’s sister. Torq’s wife. They hadn’t been married long, just a few months, when she got ill. I think it was appendicitis...or an obstruction...or cancer. I don’t know. Mistress Glick didn’t either. I can cover cuts and put salve on burns, but I have no way of knowing what’s going on under the skin. Like with you. I’m worried about your back.”

  Ann took my hand in hers and squeezed.

  “Me too,” I said. “Well, we know I’m not paralyzed because I can wiggle my toes and move my head, but this pain is horrendous.”

  “Hence, the whisky.”

  “Hence, the whisky.”

  “You can probably go back through time when you’re better, Cyn, but I really don’t think you should try until you can at least walk on your own. I can’t imagine what would happen if you took the dagger and spun back through time, or whatever it is that we do. It’s been different for me both times. If your back is fractured, you might find yourself paralyzed if you injure it further. I think you should stay awhile.”

  Ann smiled gently. “And I’m not just asking you to stay just so I can catch up on the twenty-first century.”

  I looked beyond Ann’s shoulders toward Torq again. He seemed more intent on watching me than listening to Mistress Glick and John talk.

  “I can’t face moving right now anyway. You’re probably right.”

  “Oh, good! You’re taking this time traveling thing pretty well, much better than I did.”

  “Well, you had to go through it alone. Besides, there’s no way that man could ever have been born in the twenty-first century.”

  Torq stared at me, wild red curls hanging to his shoulders, blue eyes boring into mine without flinching.

  She followed my eyes.

  “No, he’s pretty intense, isn’t he? He seems to have taken you on as his pet project. Is he making you uncomfortable? I can ask John to send someone else over to help you out.”

  “No!” I said sharply.

  Ann tilted her head.

  “No, he’s fine.”

  “Okay. Just let me know if he gets to be too much. Coming from the twenty-first century, you and I aren’t really used to the daily life-and-death struggles of these people, these men. It makes them kind of larger than life. Heroic, really.”

  Ann’s cheeks bloomed when her husband approached. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she reached for it. My heart thumped at the romantic sight. I had no doubt that they loved each other deeply.

  “I’ve got to get back to the babies right now,” Ann said. “They’re only three months old, and I’m feeding them so I can’t be gone too long. I’ll check back in on you in a few ho
urs.”

  “Mistress Glick will send Andrew over wi a bowl of broth and some bread,” John said. “Torq will stay wi ye for now if that is acceptable.”

  “Okay,” I said, relieved that my bodyguard was staying. I really couldn’t get enough of the brilliance of his wild ginger mane. My own chestnut curls seemed tame in comparison.

  Three of them left the room, and Torq approached the bed. My heart had taken to fluttering at his approach. I hoped it wasn’t a thyroid problem or an impending heart attack.

  “Do ye need drink?” he asked.

  “Oh! I forgot. I was going to ask Ann for some water.”

  “Auch, her ladyship had meant to speak to ye about water. Preferring to heat her water, she has some set by. I will fetch ye some water. Stay here.”

  “Where could I go?” I murmured.

  Torq left, and I studied the room. Of gray stacked rock filled with clay mortar, the walls stood only about seven feet high. I recalled a set of perpendicular stone stairs outside the room that must have led to the top of the tower. The small window faced east, judging from the sun.

  The room consisted of not much more than the small trundle bed upon which I lay, the old wooden table and the two plain wooden high-back chairs. Someone had covered me with a blanket, the tartan the same muted red that everyone seemed to favor in their clothing.

  My shoes had been removed at some point, and I wiggled my toes. Nope, I wasn’t paralyzed...yet. I banished television images of people hauled from car wrecks and avalanches on stretchers with their necks in braces. The more I thought about it, the more I suspected Ann was right. The trip back through time might be more arduous than the one in which I fell to the bottom of the keep.

  Torq returned toting a jug of water and a length of white linen. He poured some water into the porcelain basin on the dresser before filling the pewter cup I had been using. He brought the basin, linen and cup to my bedside, setting the bowl on the floor.

  “Here is yer water,” he said, holding the cup out to me. “I have set some aside for washing. Ye have a wee bit of mud on yer face.”

  He slipped an arm behind me and lifted me to help me drink. The pains shooting through my back made me wonder if I needed to return to the whisky.