eyes was enough to raise the hair on the back of his neck.
Though he’d never met Ewan before, he’d heard of the man plenty. Tales of his prowess on the battlefield as well as with the lassies were heard all over the Highlands—though Rory was pleased to see he’d settled down with Shona, and was no longer pursuing his female conquests.
Ewan was second-in-command to Laird Logan Grant, Guardian of Scotland and protector of Castle Gealach. And though there was a price on Rory’s head, he thought he could trust this man.
“I’m not saying anything yet,” Ewan said, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground in thought, then he glanced back up at Rory. “Do ye know the tale?”
He gave a curt shake of his head. “Not all. Tell it.”
“We need to keep moving,” Ewan said. “I’ll tell it over whisky, after ye explain the accusations against ye.”
Nobody argued, especially not Rory, because bits and pieces of a tale he’d heard as a child were coming to his memory, and if what he recalled had an ounce of truth, then… Well, he didn’t want to contemplate the gravity of their current situation.
At all.
Moira slipped her hand into his. “Isn’t this a lovely jaunt?” she asked.
Rory frowned. “Ye’re not acting yourself, lass. What’s wrong?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked, but it didn’t feel genuine. “Why should there be anything wrong?”
“Because a quarter hour ago ye were screaming obscenities. Now, ye seem as chipper as a drunk lass on May Day.”
“What’s May Day?”
“Come now, ye know what May Day is.”
“Oh, right. We celebrated that with a bonfire didn’t we? And ye tried to get me to dance naked around the flames.”
Rory chuckled. “Almost had ye, too.”
Her head snapped off his shoulder. “Well, I guess I can tell ye.” She waved her hands in the air. “This is all a dream, so I’m going with it.”
“Going with it?” he questioned. The phrase was not familiar to him.
“Yes. I’m playing along.” Her smile was vibrant, but her eyes were dazed.
Rory was worried about her. She was truly in shock. “Lass, this is no game. Ye and your sister could be in grave danger.”
That made her laugh. “Let me guess, there are bandits in these woods.”
“Aye.”
“And wild animals that would want to shred me to bits.”
“Right again.”
“Oh, stop it. Let’s go get drunk.”
Rory stopped moving. Hands on her shoulders he forced her to look at him. “This is no dream, lass. And if ye refuse to believe me, then at least pretend to take caution. My time… it is not as ordered as yours.”
Her smile faltered, eyes shuttered. “Ordered?”
“Ye have police that can come at the drop of a hat. Ye have shelters and things like electricity, showers, and hospitals. We’ve not got that here.”
Her face paled, and she looked ready to faint again. “Nay, nay, nay,” he said hurriedly. “Ye’re not going to do that again.”
“Rory?”
“Aye, love?”
“Why is this happening?” Her voice sounded so small, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and protect her forever.
“I dinna know. But we’ll find out.”
“I want to go home now. This isn’t fun.”
“Lass, I think ye are home.”
She glanced around. “I would feel like I was home if I was.” She shook her head. “And I don’t.”
Rory pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her into his arms. She sank against him, her fingers digging into his shirt as though she’d find anchor for the rest of time. He was more than happy to be that anchor.
For years, he’d been an outsider, not one to belong. It was only when he was with Moira that he felt at home—in this time or hers. As long as she was by his side, he knew he was on the right path.
“Damn,” Ewan said, stiffening at the same time Rory heard the crunch of footsteps through the woods.
“We’re not alone,” Rory said.
“And neither of us with a weapon, unless ye count
Though he’d never met Ewan before, he’d heard of the man plenty. Tales of his prowess on the battlefield as well as with the lassies were heard all over the Highlands—though Rory was pleased to see he’d settled down with Shona, and was no longer pursuing his female conquests.
Ewan was second-in-command to Laird Logan Grant, Guardian of Scotland and protector of Castle Gealach. And though there was a price on Rory’s head, he thought he could trust this man.
“I’m not saying anything yet,” Ewan said, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground in thought, then he glanced back up at Rory. “Do ye know the tale?”
He gave a curt shake of his head. “Not all. Tell it.”
“We need to keep moving,” Ewan said. “I’ll tell it over whisky, after ye explain the accusations against ye.”
Nobody argued, especially not Rory, because bits and pieces of a tale he’d heard as a child were coming to his memory, and if what he recalled had an ounce of truth, then… Well, he didn’t want to contemplate the gravity of their current situation.
At all.
Moira slipped her hand into his. “Isn’t this a lovely jaunt?” she asked.
Rory frowned. “Ye’re not acting yourself, lass. What’s wrong?”
She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked, but it didn’t feel genuine. “Why should there be anything wrong?”
“Because a quarter hour ago ye were screaming obscenities. Now, ye seem as chipper as a drunk lass on May Day.”
“What’s May Day?”
“Come now, ye know what May Day is.”
“Oh, right. We celebrated that with a bonfire didn’t we? And ye tried to get me to dance naked around the flames.”
Rory chuckled. “Almost had ye, too.”
Her head snapped off his shoulder. “Well, I guess I can tell ye.” She waved her hands in the air. “This is all a dream, so I’m going with it.”
“Going with it?” he questioned. The phrase was not familiar to him.
“Yes. I’m playing along.” Her smile was vibrant, but her eyes were dazed.
Rory was worried about her. She was truly in shock. “Lass, this is no game. Ye and your sister could be in grave danger.”
That made her laugh. “Let me guess, there are bandits in these woods.”
“Aye.”
“And wild animals that would want to shred me to bits.”
“Right again.”
“Oh, stop it. Let’s go get drunk.”
Rory stopped moving. Hands on her shoulders he forced her to look at him. “This is no dream, lass. And if ye refuse to believe me, then at least pretend to take caution. My time… it is not as ordered as yours.”
Her smile faltered, eyes shuttered. “Ordered?”
“Ye have police that can come at the drop of a hat. Ye have shelters and things like electricity, showers, and hospitals. We’ve not got that here.”
Her face paled, and she looked ready to faint again. “Nay, nay, nay,” he said hurriedly. “Ye’re not going to do that again.”
“Rory?”
“Aye, love?”
“Why is this happening?” Her voice sounded so small, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and protect her forever.
“I dinna know. But we’ll find out.”
“I want to go home now. This isn’t fun.”
“Lass, I think ye are home.”
She glanced around. “I would feel like I was home if I was.” She shook her head. “And I don’t.”
Rory pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her into his arms. She sank against him, her fingers digging into his shirt as though she’d find anchor for the rest of time. He was more than happy to be that anchor.
For years, he’d been an outsider, not one to belong. It was only when he was with Moira that he felt at home—in this time or hers. As long as she was by his side, he knew he was on the right path.
“Damn,” Ewan said, stiffening at the same time Rory heard the crunch of footsteps through the woods.
“We’re not alone,” Rory said.
“And neither of us with a weapon, unless ye count
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