Page 12 of Desire of a Highlander

“Thought I’d find ye here,” Faye observed.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Where else would I be? I am the village’s smith after all.”

Faye snorted. “Ye are a little more than that, I reckon.”

Ronan waved this statement away. “Why are ye here? Has something happened to the lass?”

“The lass is fine. She woke up briefly but is sleeping again now. But I’d like ye to come take a look at her. There’s something mighty strange about our new guest.”

Pausing only to take off his apron and pull a shirt over his bare torso, Ronan followed Faye out of the smithy, through the village, and back to her house. Inside, they found the lass asleep, just as Faye had said. She looked no different from the last time Ronan had seen her although her hair was beginning to dry and there was a bit more color in her cheeks.

“What did ye want to show me?”

Faye marched over to the bed and threw back the blanket. “This.”

She lifted the lass’s arm and held it up for Ronan’s examination. A wide silver bracelet circled her wrist. In the center of the bracelet sat a flat square disk that looked like it might be made of glass. Beneath the glass were numbers. Right now those numbers said 15:22. But even as he watched, the numbers changed to 15:23.

Despite himself, Ronan backed up a step. What on earth was it? Some kind of time piece? As a boy he’d seen clocks, time pieces that only the wealthy could afford, but this looked nothing like those. Those had hands that marked out the time and tiny gears that moved them. He saw none of that in the device strapped to the lass’s arm. How could the numbers just change like that?

“I see,” he said.

“I hope ye do,” Faye replied. “Her jewelry already marks her out as a noblewoman, but this? This is something else entirely. I’ve never seen anything like it. Perhaps it’s one of those new inventions from Italy. Anyone who can afford something like this must be wealthy indeed. And any wealthy noblewoman is likely to have a husband out looking for her. A husband who might not take too kindly to finding her here with us.”

Faye’s meaning was not lost on Ronan. Their settlement survived only because most people had no idea they were here. But if a noblewoman ended up here? That might bring attention they could do without.

“Ye know our rules,” he said to the healer. “It doesnae matter who she might be. All who need shelter are welcome here. When she wakes, she is free to leave if she wishes, but should she wish to stay she’ll be extended the same courtesy as everyone else.”

Faye scowled at him, an expression that he knew all too well. “And if she brings trouble down on us?”

Ronan snorted softly. “Then she wouldnae be the first would she?” He fixed the healer with his gaze and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “All will be well. Ye’ll see.

Faye just scowled all the harder. “I hope ye are right.”

Ronan sighed, scrubbing a hand through his sweaty hair. “So do I, my old friend. So do I.”

ELODIE HAD NO IDEA how long she’d been asleep. When she woke this time, golden evening sunlight was slanting through the windows, indicating that the storm had blown through and sunset wasn’t far off.

She blinked several times then looked around. To her dismay, she found herself still in the same rustic cottage as before. She groaned. So it hadn’t been a dream then. However, wherever she was, it was clear that she was being well cared for. A rough blanket had been pulled up to her chin and she felt deliciously warm beneath it. Her headache had receded and now she felt only a groggy kind of lassitude, as though she’d slept too deeply and too long.

From nearby she heard someone humming quietly. She turned her head and saw the woman from before kneeling by the hearth, throwing logs onto the fire where a kettle was suspended. What had she said her name was? Faye?

Slowly, Elodie got her elbows under her and carefully pushed herself up. She expected the pounding in her head to return, along with the nausea and dizziness she’d felt earlier, so she was pleasantly surprised when there was only a faint twinge of pain in her temple.

Her movements alerted the woman who turned to look at her. “Back in the land of the living, eh?”

Elodie rubbed the lump on her forehead. It still felt tender but not as sore as before. “Just about,” she replied. “I think.”

Faye tossed another log into the fire, dusted off her hands, and came over to Elodie’s bedside. She pressed the back of one cool hand against Elodie’s forehead and nodded in satisfaction. ”Ye dinna have a fever. How do ye feel?”

“Better than I did,” Elodie replied. Then, remembering her manners, added, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Faye waved a hand. “There’s no need for thanks, lass. Ye needed help. I gave it.” She seemed to think this was explanation enough.

Elodie examined the little room. Everything seemed to be made of either stone or wood and she saw no switches, wires or pipes that would indicate electricity or running water. Who was this woman? Some kind of hermit who shunned modern technology? She’d heard of such people—usually featured in documentaries on the TV—but she’d never expected to meet one. And especially not here, out in the middle of...wherever this was.

“How did I get here?” she asked.

“The chief found ye,” Faye replied. “Out in the hills. Ye’d fallen and hit yer head.”