“Big help you are.” Paige jerked her foot out from under his bottom and walked over to the door.

  Warily, she peeked outside, but it was too dark to see anything. Not wanting to chance something or someone, coming in, she quickly slammed the door shut and brought the bolt home.

  “There, that should do it.” Feeling much better, she tucked the stick under her harm and brushed off her hands.

  Turning, she looked at Elvis and to her dismay, saw that he was staring down the hall towards the kitchen.

  “Bloody Hell!” She just remembered that there was more than one door.

  “Come on boy,” she coaxed. “Help me look for intruders.”

  Of course, that didn’t have any effect on the dog either.

  “I’ll give you a treat.”

  At that, the dog’s ears perked up.

  “Yes, you heard me right. I have a nice treat waiting for you in the kitchen,” she lied. Granted there was a bone of some animal in there but other than that, the pickings were slim. Paige tended to avoid the dank kitchen at all cost. It not only smelled weird but it also reminded her of when all the men were alive and brought her close to tears with the remembrance. And now, with Gavin still asleep, (if you could call it that) she didn’t need anything else to depress her.

  Luckily, she had the wherewithal to pack a hefty amount of food in her bag that she had brought back from the future and was still eating PB&J sandwiches, for her dinners.

  “It’s a big bone,” she said, using her sweetest voice to coerce him from his resting spot on the floor.

  His old body slowly lifted to standing.

  Patting her leg, she walked towards the kitchen.

  Acutely aware of every movement, she was reassured by the sound of Elvis’ nails on the stone floor as he followed slowly behind.

  When Paige reached the kitchen, she stopped and let her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room.

  The small window on the back wall let in very little light and shadows hovered on the edges, which would be easy hiding places for someone.

  A creaking noise sounded from somewhere in the room.

  With her hand on her racing heart, Paige looked back at Elvis, waiting to see if he was aware of someone in the room that she was not. Luckily, he didn’t seem concerned.

  Letting out a pent-up breath, she returned to her inspection. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she could see that the door was indeed unlocked, even though it was not open. Not wanting to take any chances, she ran over to the door and brought the bolt home.

  “I don’t remember leaving the door unlocked.” Paige looked at Elvis for clarification but he merely walked over to the table and looked up at the bone on top.

  “Geez. Calm down. I didn’t forget about your treat.”

  A few herbs were hanging from the ceiling, drying, but since she had no idea what they were used for, she never touched them. Grans was always a stickler for not using herbs if you didn’t know what they were. Paige had learned that lesson the hard way when she made a mud pie when she was younger with some pretty blue flowers and Grans had almost had heart failure because she was playing with some of her Nightshade or what some people referred to as Bella Donna. It didn’t make much difference what name the plant was called, it was still poisonous.

  Grans gave her a firm dressing down and told her if she was going to use herbs of any kind, she better damn sight know what she was using.

  Paige vaguely remembered her Grans telling her about the different uses of some herbs, but it was so long ago now, she was having a hard time recalling what she actually told her. Dang it.

  However, now, as she looked at the table, there were some herbs lying on top and there was a small bowl with dried flowers crushed inside that she definitely did not remember seeing before.

  A shiver of unease flitted over Paige.

  Someone had to have been in the kitchen since the last time she was here …but who? There was only one explanation…

  “Gavin!”

  CHAPTER 3

  HIGHLAND GAMES, CENTRAL VIRGINIA

  The Hotel - Present Day

  With a good helping of surprise, Rubric Kensington started at the sight before him. “I see you decided to come back,” he said to the strapping Highlander that just walked through the lobby doors.

  Clarion frowned. “Do I know ye?”

  Rubric pushed his shoulders back and sucked in his gut. “Well, enough, I suppose,” he said and added, “you were here just a few weeks ago.”

  Clarion shook his head. “Nay. I have no been here before.”

  Rubric reached up and removed his bifocals. Wiping the lenses with his shirt, he put them back on and looked again. There was no doubt it was the same Highlander, the one his wife had been drooling over. “You were here. I gave you a map, remember?”

  Not used to people questioning him, Clarion leaned close to the man. “I said I have no seen ye before.”

  Reflexively, Rubric leaned back away from the Highlander. “All right lad, calm down. I don’t mean no harm.”

  Clarion grunted and leaned back, giving the man some space.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “I would like ta rent a room.”

  “Alrighty then,” Rubric mumbled. “For how long?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Rubrics eyes widened and then he recovered. “I don’t have a room for….”

  “Nonsense, Rubric,” Mildred said, bustling out from the back room and then wedged herself in front of her husband. “Of course, we have a room.”

  Rubric rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Really, Mildred? Where might we have a room, wife?”

  Mildred gave Rubric a look of warning. “Room thirteen,” she said.

  Rubric floundered at that. Due to Mildred’s superstitious nature they never rented out that room.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Mildred pressed up on the tippy-top of her toes to get as close to the Highlander as the desk would permit.

  Clarion reflexively took a step back. “That will be fine.”

  Mildred’s orthopaedic shoes made a squeaking sound as she lowered back down to the floor. “Good. Good,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “I will send the maid to get the room ready, directly. It should only be about a half hour or so.”

  Clarion nodded. “Thank ye for yer troubles, Ma’am.”

  Mildred giggled like a love-struck schoolgirl, which garnered another eye roll from Rubric.

  “You can have a seat over there, lad.” Rubric pointed a stubby finger in the direction of the sitting area across the room.

  Lifting his bag off the floor, Clarion turned away.

  “Would ye like some tea?” Mildred elbowed her way past her husband and bustled out from behind the desk. “I just made some fresh biscuits,” she added. “You can have them while ye, err,” she cleared her throat, “while you wait.”

  “I wouldn’t want ye ta go ta any trouble on my account…”

  “Pish-posh.” She waved away his concerns. “No trouble at all.”

  “Aye. I would like that. Thank ye.” Walking over to a plaid high-backed chair across the room, he settled down into the cushions.

  A nice fire was burning in the hearth, which helped to knock the chill off. Leaning forward, Clarion rubbed his hands and warmed them in front of the flames.

  As Mildred made her way to the back room to do his bidding, she passed Rubric and tilted her head towards the Highlander.

  Rubric shrugged.

  Mildred widened her eyes.

  “What?” Rubric mouthed.

  Reaching out, she grabbed hold of Rubric’s arm and dragged him in the back room.

  Once they were out of earshot, she stopped.

  “What the devil are you doing, Mildred?”

  “Don’t ye see?” She gave Rubric a look like he was slow on the uptake.

  “See what?”

  “It’s him.”

  “Who?”

  “The Highlander that was just here a few weeks ago.”

  “No, Mildred,” Rubric replied a bit haughtily, since, for once, he knew better. “It’s not him.”

  “I tell ye, it’s him.”

  “And I am telling you, it’s not.”

  Mildred crossed her arms defiantly and tapped the toe of her orthopaedic shoe on the floor. “How do ye know?”

  “I asked him, that’s how.” Rubric gave her a smug look.

  “Och, ye are as slow witted as they come,” she snapped. “O’ course it’s him,” she said. Whenever Mildred was upset about something her accent became more prevalent.

  “He says he has not been here before.”

  Mildred huffed. “He’s obviously lying.”

  “For goodness sake, Mildred. Why on God’s green Earth would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. But I will be finding out. I can tell ye that with certainty.”

  “All right, Mildred,” he sighed.

  Mildred kept standing there.

  Nearing the end of his patience, Rubric crossed his arms over his substantial gut. “You better get. The Highlander is waiting for his tea and biscuits.”

  “Oh, right,” Mildred tittered cheerily and took off out of the room.

  Rubric shook his head in part disbelief and part awe as he watched her tear down the hall. That was the fastest he had ever seen the woman move and that was saying something since she was once chased by a rogue bull.

  ♦

  Wearily, Rubric walked back out into the lobby and lifted his heavy backside on the stool behind the desk. He wasn’t too fond of sitting on stools since most of his bottom was usually falling off the sides. He told Mildred, he needed another, that this one was too small. She told him he needed to lose weight. So, instead of the losing the weight, he had begrudgingly kept the stool. There were some things not worth giving up and sustenance was one of them.

  Shifting uncomfortably, he looked across the room at the Highlander. The lad certainly had an uncanny resemblance to the other Highlander, however, the more he looked at him, he could now see distinct differences.

  For one, this Highlander was taller than the last and broader. As he leaned forward in the chair to warm his hands in front of the fire, Rubric watched with no small amount of envy at the bulging muscles on the lad’s arms.

  Also, there was more of a bluish-black hue to this lad’s hair. Dark as night, it was. And he too, seemed to like to keep his hair long. His locks reached the middle of his back. And there was a tattoo on the inside of his left forearm. The other one did not have a tattoo. At least not one Rubric could see at the time.

  Trying to get a better look at the tattoo, Rubric leaned more fully onto the desk. Unfortunately, his substantial gut stopped him from getting as close as he would have liked. Maybe Mildred was right, he thought. Maybe he should lose a pound or two. Shaking his head, he discarded that idea and instead sucked his gut in.

  It wasn’t the best, but he did get a tad bit closer. Squinting his eyes, he looked again at the tattoo on his arm. From his vantage point, as unclear as it was from this distance, he could swear the tattoo was a serpent of some kind—glowing red eyes and scales to boot. The more he looked, the more entranced he became—it was as if the serpent was moving over his skin—but that couldn’t be—could it?

  As if sensing him watching, the Highlander turned around and gave Rubric an inquisitive look.

  Pretending like he wasn’t looking, Rubric quickly cast his gaze back to the open newspaper on the desk.

  ♦

  Clarion knew the man behind the desk was watching him, but he was used to that. It seemed most people from this timeframe had an odd habit of staring at him, especially the women folk. But as it stood, there wasn’t much he could do about it, save ignore them and hope they lost interest.

  The fire crackled warmly in the hearth and with the sound of the rain outside, he let himself relax a bit. There was no place for him to go for three more weeks, so he decided to use this time to figure out what he would do when he returned back to his own time. Morag, once she figured out he was gone, would be livid. She had a habit of casting spells when she was angry and he knew from experience that it took a while for those types of spells to wear off.

  Even now, he could still feel the lingering effects of her last one in his blood stream.

  Leaning back, he rested his head on the back of the chair and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander.

  ♦

  Twenty minutes later, and huffing with no small amount of exertion, Mildred pushed a rattling teacart into the lobby. “Got a piping pot of tea for you,” she called cheerily as she eagerly pushed the cart across the room. “And fresh biscuits with my prize-winning apricot marmalade, too.”

  On cue Rubric’s belly grumbled. With a heavy sigh, he hoisted himself off the stool and stood once more. If he didn’t, he knew Mildred would give him Hell.

  ♦

  Clarion reopened his eyes to a steaming cup of tea pushed out in front of his face. He looked up at the red-faced woman and took the cup. “Thank ye fer yer troubles.” He dutifully took a sip. “Tis delicious.” As he lowered the cup back down, he gave her one of his rare smiles.

  Mildred, blinked a few times, momentarily speechless by the uncanny resemblance he had to the other Highlander, the one she saw in the book of the Thirteen. The longer she looked at him though, the more she began to think that the man in front of her now was the same as the one in the book and not the other one that had been here previously as she had originally thought. This man, he had one blue eye and one green.

  The hacking sound of Rubric clearing his throat from across the room broke her out of her stupor. “No worries,” she said a bit breathily. “Would ye care for me to put some marmalade on your biscuits?”

  Rubric rolled his eyes at that and muttered, “The woman never put marmalade on my biscuits.”

  “I would appreciate that,” Clarion said.

  Mildred beamed brightly, more than happy to accommodate his every request and quickly lifted a biscuit out of the basket. Using the little spoon attached to the cut- crystal jam jar, she lifted the lid and put a nice glob of marmalade in between the biscuit. Reaching out, she grabbed a small china plate that she had gotten for her wedding over thirty years ago and set the biscuit on top.

  “Here you go.” She handed out the plate to him.

  Clarion took the plate and just when he had the biscuit almost to his mouth, the woman lifted a napkin out to him. “It’s dripping,” she explained.

  Taking the napkin, he held it in one hand and the plate in the other. Feeling a bit uneasy under her unrelenting gaze, he dutifully tasted her offering. It was delicious and so was the marmalade. “Hmm, hmm.” He chewed the biscuit slowly and gave her another brief smile.

  Before her legs buckled, Mildred perched her hip on the arm of the opposite chair. “Glad to hear it suits you.” She gave him another winning smile and then reached up to fluff her hair.

  Clarion nodded and forced one more, albeit, significantly smaller smile, in her direction.

  “How long did you say you were staying?”

  Wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin, Clarion set the plate with the rest of the biscuit on the table beside his tea. “Three weeks.”

  “Oh.” Her smile turned upside down. “It’s a shame you missed the games,” she said, trying to make a bit of conversation. She would have danced a jig for him if it meant she could stay in his presence for just a bit longer—he was very handsome.

  “Aye.” He nodded.

  “I believe some of the merchants are still set up until the end of the month, if you care to go over there.”

  “I’ve already been there,” he said.

  Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. Finding her voice, she added, “Did you happen to stop by the gypsy’s tent?”

  Clarion cut a look of interest in her direction. “Aye, I did visit the gypsy’s tent.”

  Suddenly at a loss for words, Mildred opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water.

  “Are ye feeling unwell?” he asked.

  Mildred shook her head as though to clear it. “No. No. I’m fine.”

  ♦

  Rubric waved his arms, trying to signal to Mildred from across the room, but the woman wasn’t paying him no mind. “Mildred,” he called out, finally.

  Mildred cut her eyes to Rubric with one of her angry looks. “What?” she yelled back.

  “The room is ready.”

  Making a face, Mildred unperched her hip from the chair. She was a little put out that her time with the Highlander had come to an end.

  “Would you like me to bring the cart to your room?” she asked, hopefully.

  Clarion was still hungry and the biscuits were delicious, however, he wasn’t really sure he wanted her following him to his room, but at the last moment his hunger won out and he relented. “That would be very kind of ye.”

  “No problem. Let me just get this together for you and I’ll take you to your room.”

  Clarion stood up and lifted his bag, waiting for her to put his cup and half-eaten biscuit back on the cart.

  Using both her hands, Mildred pushed the cart forward. “Follow me,” she tittered merrily.

  The cart wheels squealed, the dishes rattled and her orthopaedic shoes squeaked, as Mildred, the cart, and the Highlander, passed by the front of the desk.

  With a look of longing, Rubric watched the delicious biscuits, marmalade, tea and his wife, vanish from his sight.

  CHAPTER 4

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  The Past - Greystone Castle

  “Gavin, you’re awake…” Paige stopped because Gavin wasn’t sitting up, waiting for her arrival like she had thought. Instead, his eyes were still closed and as far as she could see, he was still asleep, if you could call it that.

 

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