Highland Defiance (The MacLomain Series- Early Years) (4 page)

It was not there.
Thump. Thump
. Her heartbeat increased.

Mildred’s eyes returned to him. “It
is
a dream,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

She swore that his eyes glowed bright blue for a second before he said, “Nay, ‘tis not a dream.”

As Mildred looked around at the forest she tried not to panic, tried to wake up. She whispered, “It is a dream. It
has
to be.”

His gaze seemed to freeze then slowly travel over her, as if he saw her for the first time. As if he savored every inch. “Nay, Mildred.”

Her eyes rounded as she tried to get a grip on reality. “I never told you my name. How did you know my name?”

Though his eyes continued to study hers, his deep voice cut through her misconstrued thoughts.
“Because I am him.”

“Him who?” she whispered.

He gently took her hand. “So sorry that I didnae introduce myself before. I am Adlin, Chieftain of the MacLomain Clan.
The lad from your dream.
The one who will take you to your betrothed.”

Chapter Two

Cowal, Scotland

1050

Adlin was doing his best not to immediately wrap her up in his arms.

After all, he’d dreamt about Mildred for many years too.

Now, at last, she’d traveled back in time to him.

As foretold.

Arms across her chest, feet splayed, she shook her head. “I’m going nowhere until I wake up.”

With a purposefully heavy sigh, he leaned against a tree and eyed her. Though hard to believe, she was even more beautiful in real life. Her hair hung in thick dark brown waves around her shoulders and her eyes, the most arresting shade of clear blue he’d ever seen. They were huge and a wicked mix between round and almond shaped. Her finely shaped dark brows arched slightly and turned them sultry and secretive. The shape of her face was classically beautiful with high cheekbones and full, pink kissable lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she huffed.

“Like what?”

“You know.”

“I do?”

“Of course.”
Mildred promptly took to chewing a nail and frowned.

“Bad habit, lass.”

Abruptly pulling her hand away from her mouth, Mildred notched up her chin and declared, “I need to wake up.”

Adlin didn’t blame her for being so confused. He’d be confused too if he was in her position. Perhaps he’d gone about this all wrong. “What do you usually dream when you dream of us, Mildred?”

She twisted her foot in the dirt beneath and shrugged. “Not this.”

“I ken that. Please, what then?”

“What does ken mean?”

“It means that I understand.” He nodded his head in a try-to-understand gesture.
“My dialect.
Forgive.”

Mildred shook her head and again eyed the forest uncomfortably. “You never much talked about dialect before… in the other dream.”

“What did I talk about?”

He already knew but had to ask… had to pull it out of her.

“There was a cliff and men,” she said absently. “And you,” she said, locking eyes with him.

“Me?”

“Always you,” she whispered, her expression suddenly distant, before she again came to attention. “I was being led somewhere. You saved me.”

“That’s a good thing,” he piped up.

“One would think.”

“But it wasnae,” he said solemnly, in tune with the octave of her voice

“No. No, it wasn’t.”

“So it didnae end well?”

“No,” she whispered. “It never ends well. You die.”

“How do you know?”

Mildred stopped digging her foot into the ground.
“Because I dreamt it.
Haven’t you been listening?”

Adlin fought a grin. “But you say you’ve always had the same dream?”

“Yes.”

“And I died in every one.”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “You just did.”

Adlin couldn’t help himself; he took one of her hands. “Tell me.”

Mildred stared down at their hands, confused no doubt by how real it felt. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does.”

He squeezed her hand gently when she paused.

Her eyes rose slowly to his. At least ten seconds passed before she softly said, “You killed them all then you went off the cliff. I was alone then. I was always left alone. You always died.”

With a heavy swallow she pulled her hand away, almost as if she felt she could stop him from vanishing off that cliff with her simple gesture.

Adlin worked hard to swallow himself. It wasn’t easy being face to face with her. It wasn’t easy looking at a woman who had only ever been a figment of his imagination…or the gods. Either way, it was as difficult for him as it was for her. Knowing that in her dream the enemy had her. Knowing that the only way he could save her was by doing what he did, whatever that was, proved to be terrible.

The wind blew up and pine needles floated down slowly, somehow wrapping them in nature and deep thoughts. He ignored the warning sent from his ancestors. Instead, he focused on the beautiful woman in front of him and took her soft hands in his. She didn’t fight him.

“I am not dead, lass. I am standing here right now holding your hands.” He ran his thumbs back and forth slowly. “And I need you to be right here, right now with me. ‘Tis not a dream and I’m as nervous as you by all this. Please, lass, please try to be here with me right now.”

Mildred wore a heavy frown. Her lips quivered. Sweat broke out on her brow. Yet her hands didn’t pull away or shake. Eventually, her eyes met his. They were surprisingly level. “This isn’t a dream.”

Though she’d said it more as a statement he shook his head and said, “No, lass. Not this time.”

Her pupils flared and her brows rose.

“Not this time,” he repeated.

Several long moments passed. “Well then,” she said on a heavy sigh and stared down at their hands.

Adlin squeezed them lightly and pulled away, allowing her time to truly adjust to her new reality.

Mildred made a point of dusting herself off before she said, “I just left New Hampshire during World War II. Tell me, where exactly am I now?”

Adlin almost breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t. “You’re in Cowal, Scotland, the Highlands. The year is one thousand and fifty.”

Mildred ground her teeth and nodded. “So a few minutes ago it was nineteen forty-two and now it’s one thousand fifty. Keen.”

Adlin smiled. “It’s only a thousand years or so.”

His grin dropped beneath her stern expression.

“Seems to me you have the easier end of all this,” she pointed out dryly.

“Aye, it would seem that way.”

“Well, it is that way,” Mildred spat.

Adlin cocked a brow. “So is it safe to assume you’ve accepted your surroundings?”

As if she offered him a boon, Mildred nodded her head once and continued to eye their surroundings. “Suppose I’ve no choice, do I?”

“I wish you did but nay.” Adlin nodded over his shoulder. “But I can promise you one thing. Going that way, following
me,
won’t be nearly as bad as your dream.”

“Nightmare,” she muttered.

“Nightmare,” he conceded. What else could he say? Not much. Nothing she would believe anyway.

Mildred seemed to be a little more accepting of her current situation. He could see and sense it in her posture. She looked in the direction in which he’d nodded. “What’s there?”

“My castle.
My clan.”

“Scotland, a thousand years ago or so.”
She brushed hair away from her forehead in a determined gesture. “That can’t be good.”

Adlin couldn’t help but grin.
“Oh, ‘tis not that bad.
In fact, you might be surprised.”

Her eyes shot his way. “You said it was your clan?”

He shrugged. “As much as a clan can be any one man’s but aye, the MacLomains are mine, lass.”

“You like to be evasive, don’t you?” Mildred started to walk into the forest.

“Actually, I do. ‘Tis my thing I suppose.” The lass walked in the wrong direction. Catching up, he slowly steered her in the right direction.

“I’m scared,” she stated as she walked. “You should know that.”

“Aye,” he agreed quietly.

But she plowed on, her determined gait moving her steadily through the highland woods as though she owned them. He couldn’t help but wonder if she
truly
understood that this was actually happening. After all, she’d dreamt of it her whole life. Yet he knew meeting him for the first time was the easy part. She might think it hard but what she was about to encounter would drive it all home, would probably make her drop to her knees.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her eyes scanning the horizon as they broke free from the trees. But Mildred’s stride didn’t slow. Her pure determination remained intact despite such an odd visage.

Adlin watched in wonder as she seemed to swallow her fear and continue walking. His wooden castle shone sturdy in the early morning sun. Bright green grass spread out like a soft, velvety carpet. The loch surrounded it on three sides in a sparkling splendor of blues and greens and shimmering iridescent shadows.

It was only when she’d walked halfway across the wide field that she slowed and said, “I shouldn’t walk up to it first.”

“Dinnae worry, lass, they willnae stop you.”

Mildred finally stopped and stared, her expression lost. Her long hair blew in the wind, chin stayed strong. Her eyes grew sad before she whispered, “No, of course not. But I do not belong.”

“So many heavy thoughts so soon,” he said immediately and took her hand again. Before she could respond he started walking. “If you had not had the dreams and then traveled back in time you would not belong.
But ‘tis not the case.”

She stopped short and their hands fell apart. “That’s where you’re wrong, Adlin. I tend to think none of this would exist had I not had my dreams.”

“Then you give yourself too much credit.”

***

Mildred stared blankly at Adlin then again at the castle. She gave herself too much credit?
Highly unlikely.
The castle was beautiful, the man beside her equally so. No, everything she thought, saw and felt right now was very, very real. No ‘credit’ needed.