Page 35 of Highlander’s Protector

“Before he became king and appeared in my life, I was just a nobleman’s bastart. The clan took care of me and loved me, but if my father didna come to claim me, he didna need me and didna want me. No one cared about my education, about my manners, about my household skills. My cousin Laoghaire was groomed and trained from birth. Like every noble lady her valuable virginity will be sold to her future husband, and she will be an important link between clan MacDonald and her husband’s clan. But I…I was no one. As a bastart, I dinna have a claim to anything. My value is defined by how much my father values me. And when he became king, I became more valuable to him—another daughter to forge alliances through marriage. It wasna good nae more for me to run around and swim and behave like a wild child. Suddenly, I had to be groomed and trained and taught just like Laoghaire. So that freedom I used to have, ’twas gone. And today, with ye, galloping away in the darkness, I felt it again. I’ve been feeling it for the past three days, more and more. Nae one kens where I am. Nae one demands for me to sit for hours at the loom and weave fabrics, make dresses, and go and argue with the cook.”

Even through the darkness, he saw the pale, round outline of her face staring up at him.

“I liked the wild chase and the adventure,” she said. “Even though I often felt alone and not needed, there was freedom in being a bastart, and I didna realize how much I miss it.”

He walked to the middle of the clearing and threw the heap of firewood on the ground. As he sank to his knees and arranged the branches to build the fire, he said, “I understand more than you know. Since I came here, I realized how free I actually was back—”

She came to stand by his side and laid more branches next to his. “Came where?”

To this time, he wanted to say.

“To Eilean Donan,” he said and added more branches. “To my sister. But I’ve been traveling for the past two years trying to find a way home.”

“Where is home?” she asked. “I thought ye were from Eilean Donan. From Kintail.”

“No.” The firewood was ready now. He took the fire steel out of his belt pouch and struck it several times over the kindling. Bursts of orange sparks hurt his vision, then the small glow of fire ate at the dry grass and wood chips. Curling his hands around the kindling, he blew on it. As he watched the fire grow and expand, his mind raced. What should he tell her? What lie would satisfy her and wouldn’t betray him?

Rogene had said she was a distant cousin of James “Black” Douglas, Robert the Bruce’s most important lieutenant. But as their encounters had been close a few times, this lie was dangerous, as James could easily tell everyone the truth—that he’d never heard of Rogene and David and that they were imposters. Only a handful of people knew they were time travelers. And to the rest of the world, Rogene and David said they were from Ireland’s Dingle Peninsula. This was the most western area Rogene could think of that the Highlanders would actually know. Dingle was a faraway land for medieval Highlanders, most of whom never went farther than fifteen miles from the village they were born in.

But, of course, for clan MacDonald, traders, and seafarers, it was not much of a distance at all.

Still, David could mention Dingle Peninsula to Anna now, and she’d likely believe him. But it wasn’t that she’d catch him in a lie that stopped him. It was that he didn’t want to lie to her at all. He felt so free with her, so much more like himself. Lying to Anna felt like blasphemy.

He placed larger pieces of wood above the burning kindling and watched small flames lick the branches. The comforting scent of smoke reached his nostrils. “It’s far away. Back home, I was promised something, a big step forward. Something I’ve worked years for. But now I’m stuck here.”

He looked at her over the fire. It was still small, but he already could see her face. Her eyes were big and glistening and beautiful. She sat down on the ground, her dress crimson in the light against the blackness behind her.

“What is freedom for ye?” she asked.

He swallowed and looked at the fire, thinking. “I actually don’t know. I thought I knew, but now… Maybe it’s because I never felt free, never felt at home. Maybe I’d always hoped if I achieved success, it would fix this emptiness inside of me. Stop me from knowing I’m never good enough. That there is always more out there—more to grab, more to conquer, more to own. More money, a better car, more success, more admiration…I always thought those things would make me feel like I’m worthy.”

She frowned with a puzzled expression. “A car?”

“Did I say car?” He scratched the back of his head. “I meant cart.”

He meant his college scholarship would be the answer, that he’d be successful and finally feel at home. But maybe he’d never feel that even in his own time. Even with all the money and success in the world.

As he looked at the beautiful girl over the growing fire, he thought that if freedom existed, what if it was with this girl who has no expectations of him? This girl who made him feel like himself?

He grinned at her, and she smiled back. He remembered his life back home—the daily football training, the exercises for dyslexia, the easily available clothes, never having to worry about catching your own food, gutting your own fish or rabbit. He remembered his friends and teammates who’d expected him to be dumb and to be like them.

Only he wasn’t like them.

Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be like anyone.

Maybe he was supposed to race his horse alongside a beautiful princess, feel the silvery moonlight and the wind on his face and the movement of the horse, and just be.

CHAPTER 13

After a short sleep, Anna woke up the next morning tightly wrapped in David’s arms. She didn’t move at first, absorbing the weight of his arm and his leg thrown over her, his heat against her back. She breathed in the fresh air and blinked as sunlight peered over the leaves and tickled her eyelids.

If she could, she would stay with him like this forever. She inhaled his manly scent, which set a deep longing within her that made her want to rub herself all over him, especially—and shamefully—there.

Her nightmares stayed away as long as he was near her. She felt safe with him. He had descended down into the bowels of her stone prison and stolen her from death.

But she couldn’t stay like this. And she shouldn’t. She was supposed to meet Sir Philip in five days, and she wasn’t even sure where they were exactly.

When David woke up, they broke their fast, cleaned the horses, and kept going northwest. At midday, they stopped by a small loch to let the horses rest and graze. Anna caught a fish while David picked some mushrooms and wild strawberries. With the fish cooking over the campfire, she ate them with delight, and when she smudged her face with the red juice, David wet a kerchief and wiped her lips.