Wild Highland Rose (Time Travel Trilogy, Book 2) Read Free Page A

her, holding her gaze for one beat and then another, and then with a snort, he turned away, walking over to his men, the division between the two groups, Cameron and Macpherson, symbolic of the ever widening gulf between the clans.
    Ignoring both, she headed toward the burn.  Solitude was always the best for thinking, let the men deal with the disappearance of Ewen ' s body.  Fingal was always saying she lacked the sensibilities of a lady.  So she ' d use the fact to her advantage.
    The flowers of summer were in fierce bloom, their color vibrant even against the mist.  If it weren ' t for the fact that her dead husband had gone missing, she ' d have stopped to revel in the beauty of the mountains.  Her mountains.  But there was no time for idling.  She had to come up with a plan, and without a body it was going to be that much more difficult.
    Coming out of a small stand of birch she walked toward the stream, and a large rock.  A favorite thinking place since she was a child, it afforded the perfect view across the valley.  Except of course when the mist hugged the ground.   Then it was more like a cloister.  Silent and safe.
    As if in answer to her thoughts, a breeze rose, its gentle touch lifting the fog, revealing something lying across the rock.  Something bulky.  With baited breath, she crept forward, using the undergrowth to quiet her steps and shield her from view.
    The mound began to take shape, and she recognized it for what it was.   A body.  She ' d been right about the wolves.  Steeling herself, she crept forward, torn between a desire to run back to Fingal and the macabre need to know for certain that it was him.
    With a trembling hand, she pulled back a tree branch for a clearer view.  It was indeed Ewen.  Relieved, she released the branch and stepped into the clearing.
    Suddenly, the body shifted.  Marjory stopped mid-step, her heart jumping into her throat.  She screamed as the body rose, the face all but obliterated by crusted blood.  Flinching, she held out a hand, and shut her eyes tightly, certain that she was in the presence of the dead.
    "What the hell?"
    The voice was garbled, but definitely human.  Alive.  Marjory braced herself and opened her eyes.  He stood there, staring at her as if she were the ghost, his left hand fumbling to open his sporran.
    Involuntarily, she took a step backward, her head spinning, her hand still out as if to
ward him off.  It seemed the devil had alluded death yet again.
     
    *****
     
    Cameron closed his eyes and then opened them again, stupidly staring down at the young woman who had collapsed at his feet , o ut like a light.  She was a tiny thing, her features as delicate as her frame.  Ethereal wa s the word that came to mind.
    He knelt beside her, trying not to jar his aching head, and lifted her wrist, automatically feeling for her pulse.  It was rapid, but strong.  Releasing her hand, he pushed the hair back from her face, surprised at how soft it was.
    " Unhand her, or I ' ll slit your throat. "   The voice came from off to his left, and Cameron was certain that the owner meant every word.
    He rose quickly, his head spinning with the action, hands raised in what he hoped was still the universal gesture of surrender.  Pivoting slowly, he turned to face the voice, and immediately felt a shudder of alarm.  The man before him was roughly the size of an oak, built every bit as solid, and he held the largest sword Cameron had ever seen.
    Their eyes met, and the man blanched, the sword wavering for a moment.  " Ye ' re a dead mon. "   His tone held a mixture of fear and awe, and with his free hand he managed the sign of the cross.
    Cameron, hands still held high, took a step forward, and the man swallowed, but to his credit held his ground, the sword steady now.
    " Be gone, spirit. "   The man waved his weapon threateningly.
    Cameron, more than aware of his mortality, stepped back.  " Your friend needs help. "   He spoke slowly, as if