Highlander's Challenge (13 page)

Jenny's voice echoed in her thoughts.
The water sprite
returned to the burbling stream.

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Highlander's Challenge

by Jo Barrett

The corner of Tuck's mouth curled up. A stream or spring must feed the fountain in the twenty-first century. She just needed to find it in this time and jump in. That was the true gateway, the way back to Jenny. It had to be. Leaping off the bed, she moved to the basin of warm water with a light step. Soon, she'd be where she belonged. She could only hope the stream took her back to the moment she left so she could stop the kidnapper in time. While bathing, she planned her next escape attempt.

* * * *

Colin avoided any contact with the woman and concentrated on training the men, but knew he couldn't ignore his duty much longer. He had to speak with her and learn what she knew of the men in the dungeon. There had to be more than what she spoke of the previous night. No woman could take two men as silently as she had. It simply wasn't possible.

His fingertips scraped against the rough stone of the battlements as his chest tightened. She had to be working with them. What other explanation was there?

Yet she had overcome one of his men on the wall and displayed some fighting skills against the MacKenzies. She was of a considerable size to lay a firm blow to a man and deftly used surprise as her weapon. Could she have used those same tactics to take the two spies? Could she be telling the truth? He had heard of such things as women warriors, knew of some who were Scottish, but had never given much 120

Highlander's Challenge

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credence to the tales. In his mind, little of the truth was left amid the stories he'd been told.

His head ached with the questions, the evening wind off the water failing to ease him as it usually did. He longed for the days when his future, his duty was clear. When his only fight was against himself and the foolish whispers from the shadowy corners of his mind. His clan needed a strong leader, one who would keep them safe in the years to come, not a weak man who longed for more than the title of Laird. The one thing he could never have. A heart.

He turned from the churning waters and made his way to the solar. It was time to discover some truths. He prayed they would be of help to him and his clan. 121

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Flanked by two guards, Tuck was taken to the solar. Surprised to be out of her room, even on a tight leash, she relished the moment of freedom. Elspeth smiled warmly at her from where she sat by the hearth stitching. Maighread, however, shot her evil glances while she hovered liked a big fat housefly around MacLean where he reclined in a large chair. The woman was certifiable. No doubt about it. Tuck stood her ground in front of MacLean, waiting to hear what it was he wanted. The man never did anything without a reason and letting her out of her prison for an hour or so wasn't for grins and giggles.

He stared at her openly, and with each breath she became more agitated. What was it about this man that unnerved her in a way that no other man, not even her commanding officer at his most fierce, could? Was her attraction to him that strong?

"Tell me of those men," he grumbled lowly. Ah, so that was why she'd been allowed out. Apparently he'd failed to get any information from them. No surprise there. She may not like the man, but he wasn't cruel. He wouldn't torture those men. It just didn't seem to be his style.

Turning her head to the side, she feigned interest in the tapestry on the far wall while observing him from the corner of her eye.

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"I already told you," she said coolly, although she felt anything but. "I came across two men acting suspiciously and followed them."

He waved off Maighread as she offered him more drink.

"And you heard nothing? You observed nothing else?" She turned to face him, surprised he was asking since he considered her more a pain in the butt than someone who could be of help. He still didn't trust her, but could she really blame him? He had no clue where she was from, she broke all the girlie rules, and she didn't back down from him. The man simply didn't know what to do with her.

"I heard a lot, but it was in Gaelic. I don't speak Gaelic," she said with a casual shrug.

He nodded as he steepled his fingers at his chin.

"I will tell you this, since you asked." She sat down opposite him in one of the straight-back chairs, stretched out her jean-clad legs, and crossed her feet at the ankles. "They were tracking you, but not to kill." A single dark brow rose as his gaze traveled up her legs to her face. She managed to keep from flushing at his open perusal. It wasn't a sexual look. At least she didn't think it was, having never really received one before. He was obviously not happy about her disobeying him and wearing her jeans.

Maighread scoffed. "What would you know of tracking?

Dinnae listen tae her lies, Colin."

"Be quiet, cousin." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but Maighread obeyed.

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Tuck held in her smirk and the ridiculous desire to stick out her tongue.

"What makes you think they didna wish tae kill me?" he asked.

"They followed you for several minutes, but never moved into an attack position. Besides, a full assault without claymores and backup would've been suicide. My guess is they were sent for something else. A little recon. You know, checking out the area, determining the enemies' weak points. Spying."

He studied her for several minutes, then rose and left the room. Maighread grinned smugly and followed.
Dream on, sister
. But then Tuck didn't really believe MacLean wanted her either. Fiona was imagining things.

"He is behaving verra badly," Elspeth said. Tuck rose and explored the solar. "No big deal. I know it's no picnic around here right now." She paused and glanced back at her. "And I'm not much of a guest. But thanks, Elspeth. You've been more than kind to me. I appreciate it." The older woman smiled with a nod, then returned to her sewing. Some sort of chair cushion, Tuck guessed.

"Sit down, lass, and keep me company," Elspeth said. She glanced at the woman sitting by the fire burning in the hearth. It was a sight too serene to be real, and yet it was. Settling in the large padded chair, Tuck held in her sigh of relief. She was so tired. Getting no sleep last night hadn't helped, but everything was still sore. Her body, her wrist, her brain, and parts of her she'd rather not think about. They just ached for something she couldn't have.

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She jumped up and started pacing once more. How could she plan her escape when all she could think about was sex?

It was like she was making up for lost time. Years of working to be the best, refusing to stop until she reached whatever goal she'd set for herself, she never had the time nor the inclination to think about men.

Raking her hand through her hair, she grumbled softly,

"Fall through one little crack in time and my brain stops functioning." But the rest of her was working just fine. She drew her fingers over her arm where Colin had held her the night before. Although his grip was like steel, he hadn't left a single mark on her skin. She could still feel the warmth of his broad chest pressed against her. The minute he'd pulled her to him, she forgot all about being tired and cold.

During their ride back to the castle, she'd tried to talk shop and get his take on the two men who'd been following him, hoping it would distract her from how wonderful it felt to have him warming her back with his arms stretched out around her. Then he ticked her off.

A weighty sigh eased past her lips. Yep, she'd totally lost it. She was attracted to a man who thought women had a place.

"What's troubling you, lass?" Elspeth asked. She turned to find the woman's eyes full of concern. Concern for her well-being. She couldn't remember the last time anyone cared about her. Come to think of it, no one ever had. It was a lot to take in.

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Clearing her suddenly constricted throat, Tuck said,

"Nothing, I'm okay." She couldn't tell Elspeth what was going on inside her, especially since she wasn't too sure she knew herself.

"I gather you're homesick. I should've known," Elspeth said with a slight shake of her head.

"Yeah, homesick," she replied, although she'd never felt that way in her life. Oh, there'd been times when she wished she were back in the states or in a soft bed instead of camped out on the ground, but never really homesick. There was no such place.

"Tell me about your home. Perhaps 'twill make you feel better. I know 'tis far, with many wondrous things I canna put a name tae."

She chuckled roughly. "Things like smog, noise, people."

"You dinnae sound as though you care for it." She shrugged, not really sure whether she did or not. But it was her world, regardless of how she felt about it. "What about you? Do you like it here, Elspeth?"

"Why would I not? 'Tis my home."

"But it's so isolated. Wouldn't you rather live on the mainland? Spend time at court, or whatever they call it?"

"Ach, nonsense. This is where I belong. I have my family and friends around me. I couldna ask for better. I am verra lucky."

Tuck nodded as she rubbed her arms and peered out the window. Torches flickered here and there, but beyond the keep all was dark. She couldn't blame Elspeth for wanting to stay put. The world could be a nasty place. 126

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An odd sense of security crept over her as she stared into the darkness, a feeling she'd never experienced in her own time on any continent. The closest she'd ever come was two days ago when she drove off the ferry and onto Mull Island with Jenny.

She turned from the window with a jerk. She didn't belong here. She was needed back in the twenty-first century. Here she was nothing but an oddity, a freak.

She sniffed. Well, maybe that part wasn't much different, regardless of the year, but this wasn't where she was supposed to be.

Taking a greater interest in the room, forestalling the wave of melancholy before it could take hold, Tuck noted the differences from when she toured the castle. The massive fireplace looked to be the same, but the far wall was different. A set of unvarnished shelves housing several papers and books stretched across the stone, catching her interest. Moving closer, she perused the manuscripts, but didn't take one aside to read. She doubted they were written in a language she was familiar with. Instead, she let her fingers brush along the thick leather bindings until she was lucky enough to find a book in English.

Not ready to return to her chamber and with nothing better to do, she pulled it from the shelf. How often does a person get to read a four-hundred-year-old first edition?

Returning to the chair beside Elspeth, she opened the heavy tome and began to read. It was slow going at first, the classical wording throwing her off a little, but eventually she settled into a slow, steady pace.

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"Bless my soul. You can decipher the scratchings," Elspeth said with awe.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, her eyes still on the page, struggling to determine a flamboyantly scripted word.

"Will you not read tae me? 'Tis been some time." She lifted her head at the sound of longing in Elspeth's voice. The lack of such a fundamental skill, something she used every day of her life, struck her with an intense wave of sadness.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she said, "I'd be happy to read to you."

Although she'd never been one for poetry, the words were comforting in the way they fit together, and Tuck found herself actually enjoying the verse. Relieved the disquieting gloom threatening to settle around her had dissipated, she moved more adeptly across the pages.

The door opened, but she paid little attention, her concentration solely on the text, not wanting to trip over any of the words. This moment seemed too important to Elspeth. Or was it important to her?

A faint memory, so faint it was nearly nonexistent, teased her mind. The sensation of sitting in someone's lap, a soft pretty scent surrounding her. Her grandmother perhaps, but it was short-lived. Someone, her father she recalled, jerked her up and ordered her to go to bed. She'd complained and received a slap. Like all of her other childhood memories, it ended in pain.

"Continue," a deep voice said.

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She jerked her head up, unaware she'd stopped. MacLean sat across from her, his lion eyes peering at her over his large hands, gently cupped together and resting against his chin.

"Please," he said softly with a faint nod. Caught in his gaze, she couldn't find the strength to deny him, yet she couldn't look away.

"Aye, lass," Elspeth said. "Please go on." She turned to Elspeth, grateful for the distraction and gathered her wits. With a nod, she cleared her throat and picked up where she'd left off. She shoved down the haunting memory while doing her best to ignore the man sitting opposite her and the disquieting feelings he let loose with his presence.

Colin took in her bowed head as she read the words on the page. A woman who could read. Not an impossible feat, but an improbable one. He wondered if she could write as well. He vaguely shook his head. So many things about her were different than other females, he could hardly believe it, and yet he knew her to be a woman beneath her crusty shell. No force on earth could wipe away the memory of her before the fire with nary a stitch of cloth to cover her distinctively feminine traits. Some of which his men could plainly see because of those damnable trews.

Perhaps he should let her go, removing the temptation once and for all. She could be innocent as she claimed, but so many lives rested on his shoulders, he didn't dare take the risk. She was far too puzzling, her way of speaking, her odd comments about a castle that didn't exist. The woman herself was as confounding as anything he'd ever encountered. 129