The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) (18 page)

The passport, legal, but not even in her name, meant she’d be leaving Gordon Hollow within a se’nnight. Her gaze fixed upon Struan, and her appetite vanished. She trailed after him toward the kitchen, her stomach in a knot. Michael gathered napkins and plates while Struan set the boxes on the table and flipped open the tops. Pizza-scented air filled the room. Normally, the smell would have her mouth watering. Not today.

“I brought a deluxe combo, a pepperoni and a five-cheese pizza.” Struan headed for his fridge. “Pop, beer or water?” he asked.

“Let me help.” Sky took glasses from Struan’s cabinet and made herself useful, distributing the beverages before taking a seat at the table across from Struan.

“What kind of pizza do you want?” he asked her with an empty plate in hand.

Sky shrugged. “I’m no’ hungry.”

His wonderful bluer-than-blue eyes filled with concern, and she turned away. “I . . . I had a snack a short while ago.”

“When?” Michael blurted around a mouthful of pizza. “I never saw you eat anything, and I’ve been with you since the minute I got home from school. Do you feel all right?”

Struan reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Eat something. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Think you?” she whispered. All eyes turned to her, and she had to fight the urge to bolt from the room. “I’ll have a piece of the five-cheese,” she muttered, hoping everyone’s attention would turn elsewhere now that she’d agreed to eat.

“I found a great place to stay near the Kildrummy Castle ruins.” Katherine lifted a piece of pepperoni pizza. “Connor and I figured we could take turns watching for the portal to open, and we’ll make Kildrummy Inn our headquarters. This is off season, so we shouldn’t have any difficulty getting rooms.” She glanced at Sky. “Four-hour shifts around the clock between the three of us; that means we’ll each have eight hours off in-between. I think we can manage that comfortably.”

“I’m coming with you,” Struan announced. “And I suggest we watch the portal in pairs, rather than alone.”

“Nay, Struan,” Sky managed to croak. “I dinna want you to leave Gordon Hollow on my account.”

Struan huffed out a grunt. “It’s not up to you, and all I’m saying is that I’ll go with you to Scotland—not to the past. Honestly, I don’t believe you’ll be able to return.” He set his elbows on the table, his gaze boring into hers. “Once you’ve had your go at trying to get back to the fifteenth century, I’ll bring you home to Gordon Hollow. For good.”

“Nay.” She shook her head, her vision blurred by the tears gathering in her eyes. “I canna allow you to accompany us. I ken well your nature. If the portal does open, you’ll insist upon going with us. Not because you want to, but to protect
me
.”

“Safety in numbers,” Connor said. “I could use Struan’s help, and—”

“Nay! I canna bear even the thought of something happening to him,” she cried.

“Wow. I’m touched by your utter lack of confidence in my piss-poor abilities to defend myself, princess.”

“’Twas you who said returning to the past means your borrowed time is at an end, Struan,” she reminded him. “Think you I’ve forgotten?”

“I’ve learned a lot since then, and like I’ve said more than once, I think you’re all cracked when it comes to the whole going-back-to-the-past thing. It’s not going to happen. If it makes you feel better, consider this an I-told-you-so trip for me.
If
by some miracle the portal should appear, I don’t plan to risk going back.
That
should allay your fears.”

“Struan . . . I—”

“It’s OK,” he said, his features softening. “Don’t you get it? I’m concerned about you. I . . .” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve read the history books, love. The scholars don’t mention your disappearance—or your reappearance for that matter. Other than a vague line about how a broken betrothal caused the feud, you aren’t mentioned at all.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “My gut tells me the lack of mention means you don’t make it back to your time. I want to be with you on this trip, because you’re bound to be disappointed. OK?”

“History can be changed. My mother, Lady Erin and the McGladreys’ daughter have proven that to be so. I am determined to return. ’Tis my turn to change history.” Tears traced down her cheeks, her heart already breaking. “Surely you ken the accounting you read was written by men—men who saw women as inconsequential. For certes, ’tis why my name is no’ mentioned. To those who recorded details, only the battles mattered.”

“Perhaps.” Struan fixed her with a determined look. “But you can’t prevent me from buying a plane ticket or booking a room at Kildrummy Inn. You may as well make peace with the fact that I’m still your sworn knight in a shiny metal can.”

As much as she wished he’d stay in Gordon Hollow, Sky couldn’t help the frisson of relief. She and Struan wouldn’t be parted. Not yet, anyway. “If I canna return to my century, I’ll agree to come back with you to Gordon Hollow for good—on one condition.” She lifted her chin and met Struan’s gaze with a look of determination equal to his.

“What’s that?” He arched an eyebrow.

“That if the portal does open for us, you’ll remain in the twenty-first century.” She held her breath, awaiting his response.

“All I can promise is that I don’t
want
to have anything to do with the fifteenth century. Bottom line though? Your safety is what matters most.”

“You two could go back and forth about this for days and never come to an agreement.” Michael reached for another slice of pizza, his jaw tightening. “If it comes down to a vote, I’m against you going back in time unless I get to come with you.”

“You can’t,” Struan said, shooting his brother a determined look.

“Fine,” Michael huffed. “Then let it go. You two can continue arguing all you want on the six-hour plane trip to Scotland. I pity the poor souls sitting near you.”

Connor laughed. “He’s right. Let it go for now. After supper, we’ll make our reservations and buy the plane tickets.”

“Stubborn man,” Sky muttered.

“Humph.” Struan shook his head. “Obstinate woman.”

The meal continued, and once the table was cleared and the leftovers put away, Struan brought out his laptop. It wasn’t until they’d purchased their airline tickets that reality caught up with her. “Will we truly fly through the air?”

“Yep,” Michael said, his head bobbing. “Wish I were going too, just to watch your reaction when the plane rises above the clouds.”

“I’ll be right beside you.” Struan wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered in her ear.

A shiver of pleasure raced through her, and she looked around to see if anyone noticed the exchange. The McGladreys and Michael were engaged in an animated conversation. She nodded.

“Good.” He kissed her temple.

A throbbing, fluid ache unfurled low in her belly. “I dinna want any harm to come to you. I could no’ bear it. Promise me that . . . that . . .” Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t seem to force a word past the constriction.

“Everything is going to work out as it’s meant to.” He drew her closer. “You’ll see.”

Again the sense of foreboding hit her. If only she could interpret what it meant. Was it a warning? If so, was it meant for her . . . or for Struan? “Damn fate,” she said on a sigh.

“You don’t believe in fate,” Struan murmured.

“I try hard
not
to believe fate exists, but if there is no such thing as predetermination, then how could there be visions and premonitions?” Aye, despite what she wished, fate did exist and was oft a cold, hard mistress.

She could have tried harder to convince Struan to stay in the present. Guilt bit at her conscience. Mayhap if she’d been more adamant she might have dissuaded him, but the truth was . . . Struan was her weakness. Did wanting him by her side for as long as she could have him make her a despicable person? Och, but she couldn’t help but long for more with Struan than fate had allotted.

Sky stood back from the Gordons once they’d reached the airport. Gene and Marjorie each embraced Struan fiercely, admonishing him to be careful and to come home soon. Michael helped the McGladreys unload their baggage, and then he wheeled her borrowed suitcase to her.

“I’m going to miss you, Sky.” His face reddened.

“We’re all going to miss her, son,” Gene called.

“I shall miss all of you as well,” she answered, her voice hitching. Her heart swelled with affection for the Gordons, and especially for the serious young man standing before her, his shoulders slumped.

Michael blew a breath. “Is it all right if I give you a hug?”

“Of course.” Sky walked into his awkward embrace and patted his back. “Remember what I told you, lad. In a few years the lasses will be falling at your feet.” She stepped back and smiled at him, her eyes stinging. He nodded, his eyes bright as well. Thank heavens she’d already said her good-byes to Lindsay and the others, or she’d break down altogether.

The Gordons drove off, and Sky stood with Katherine as Connor and Struan checked their bags with the attendant behind a steel counter. One of Struan’s pieces of luggage had been made specifically to carry weapons. He’d explained he sometimes went to trade gatherings, or fairs that were too far from Gordon Hollow to drive, so he’d had the case custom made to hold long swords, small shields and even a crossbow and arrows.

Her case, once her gown and cloak were packed, could barely hold enough clothing and toiletries to last a few days, so she’d also stuffed as much as she could into her new rucksack.

“Are you nervous about flying?” Katherine leaned close to ask.

“Aye.” She held out her hands. “Look. My hands are already shaking, and we’ve no’ yet gone through security.”

Struan and Connor had explained to her in detail what to expect once they arrived at the international airport. She kept her passport, state ID and boarding pass tucked into the outside pocket of her rucksack, which Struan assured her she could keep with her on the plane. Their flight would leave at six. Struan had insisted they leave no later, so she could see the ground from the air. He’d even arranged for her to have a seat next to a window.

“Once we get through the checkpoint, we’ll find a bar. A glass of wine will help settle your nerves.” Katherine patted Sky’s shoulder. “I brought sleeping pills just in case. After you’ve gotten over the initial shock, you’ll want to rest. It’s a long flight, and doing so will help with the jet lag.”

Sky nodded, doubting she’d sleep a wink during the six-hour flight. She’d watched planes taking off, and her hands weren’t shaking with excitement. Nay. ’Twas terror at the prospect of leaving the ground in such an impossible manner that held her in its grip.

“All set. The bags are checked, and now we go through security.” Struan hoisted his own rucksack on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

He reached out to her, and she placed her hand in his, sweaty palm and all. They walked inside the large glass-and-steel building, and her breathing grew shallow. The place was teeming with people bustling about, dragging wheeled cases along behind them. A roped-off area formed a maze where people stood in a long line. Struan guided her into place behind Connor and Katherine.

“Breathe.” Struan placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged the tight muscles in her neck. “You’re going to be fine.”

“If you say so,” she grumbled, unconvinced.

“Where are your boarding pass and passport?”

“In the pocket of my rucksack.”

He fished the documents out for her and placed them in her hand. “When we get to that guy in uniform there, you’ll hand these to him. He’ll check them, and then we’ll walk through a metal detector, while our backpacks go through an X-ray machine. Did you pack a book or something to keep you busy during the flight in case you can’t sleep?”

“I won’t be able to sleep, and yes, I brought a book.” She twisted around to glance at him. “Katherine said a few glasses of wine would help settle my nerves.” Struan’s chuckle vibrated through her, and she wanted to curl herself around him. Could he hold her in his lap during their journey? “She said we’d look for a bar once we’re through this line.”

“Sure. We’ll get something to eat, too.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze.

Sky handed her boarding pass and passport to the man in uniform. He smiled at her, checked her documents and wished her—nay, he wished Meghan McGladrey—a good trip. A blur of activity ensued, involving the taking off of her shoes and entering a frightening space where she placed her bare feet on yellow footprints and raised her arms whilst strangers wearing plastic gloves glared at her.

When she finally had her shoes back on and her rucksack once again on her shoulders, thinking coherently was beyond her. Too much. Too many people. Her anxiety spiked to a new high. Spots danced before her eyes. She swayed on her feet, and sweat beaded her forehead.

“Shite,” Struan muttered, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Wait up, Connor. Sky needs to sit a minute.” He led her to a cold metal bench and helped her down. “Lean forward,” he ordered, rubbing her back. “Take deep breaths.”

“I’m
trying
to,” she muttered. Breathing was the problem. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.