IntoEternity (3 page)

Aside from that foolish thought Gusty did not have the
energy to do more than wash the blood from her forehead and examine the cut she
had received in the bizarre rescue. Fortunately there was still enough light for
her to make out her reflection in the pool before her. A nasty gash just below
the hairline still oozed a bit of blood. The skin around the cut was swollen
and when she touched the area the tenderness of the abrasion made her gasp.

“Well it could be worse I suppose,” she mumbled as she
closed her eyes and fought back the tears that threatened to flow. Sniffling,
she reached for the wad of tissue she carried in her coat pocket, wiped her
eyes and blew her nose before stuffing the damp tissues back into her pocket.

“Please God, don’t let me lose it now.” The throbbing in her
head…the whole damn situation had Gusty close to breaking down and bawling her
eyes out. She hadn’t slept much over the past few weeks, suffered from horrible
dreams and now she found herself in the middle of this wild fantasy. And
Michael. What about Michael? Would he be looking for her? How could she be
there with him if she was here in the past?

Overwhelmed, she shivered from the cold, her body shaking.
Was she going into shock? She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her waist
in an attempt to keep warm.

Absorbed in her own troubled thoughts, she had not been
paying much attention to the chattering of the small boy behind her. But the
sudden quiet captured her attention and like a dark cloak, the awareness that
she was alone settled over her, the stillness frightening in its totality.

Duncan stood knee-deep in the high grass, humming to himself
as he painted his name on the bark of the tall fir tree with his pee. When he
finished, he gave himself a little jiggle before dropping his kilt back into
place. He smiled as he studied his latest effort.

“Are you through playing in the woods, laddie?” growled a
deep voice behind him.

Duncan yipped and turned to face the tall, formidable man
frowning down at him. Behind the Highlander stood six more giants, each just as
intimidating as their leader and each with a matching scowl on his face.

“Alexander! You scared the shite out of me!”

“Watch your mouth, lad,” Alexander, Duncan’s cousin warned.
“You are in enough trouble as it is. I have been following you for the last two
days, traipsing over hill and dale looking for you. You have led me on a merry
chase this time.” He leaned down. “Give me one good reason why I should not
haul you over my knee and blister your hide.”

Duncan’s smile of relief at finding only his cousin at his
back slid away at Alexander’s angry words. Duncan slid his hands down to cover
his butt as he edged back a step, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He
deserved a beating for what he had done, taking off on this latest adventure
without a word to anyone. But he would just as soon not suffer a thrashing for
his thoughtlessness.

“I was coming home, Alexander. I promise. It was just
taking…” He swallowed again before continuing. “It was just taking longer than
I thought it would. I’m sorry.” And then his eyes widened as he remembered he
had lost Caesar, Alexander’s favorite horse.

And the lady!

“The lady! Oh, Alexander! I found her in the woods all
alone. You have to take care of her. Please, Alexander, she needs someone to
protect her. She is hurt, Alexander! I left her down by the stream.” He pointed
down the hill toward the tree line. “Please, cousin, don’t be angry anymore.”

Alexander watched his young cousin drop his head in shame.
He did not miss the sheen of tears that welled up in the lad’s eyes. He loved
the boy with all his heart but the pranks he had been pulling were getting out
of hand. This latest could have ended badly if the scouts for Clan Ross that
Alexander and his men had avoided several hours back had come across the lad.
And now Duncan thought to lie?

“Your tales become more outlandish with every telling,
Duncan. Think carefully before you say another word,” he warned.

“Please, Alexander. I am telling the truth. She is there.”
He pointed toward the trees. A sly gleam flashed in his eyes as he continued,
“And she is lovely, cousin. A truly lovely lass any braw man might want to
keep. Aye. It might be best if we take her home with us before someone else
finds her. Please, can we keep her?”

Alexander stared at his young cousin, stunned at the lad’s
audacity. He realized Duncan’s behavior of late was most likely due to the loss
of his parents not so long ago but his antics were getting out of control.

“
Please
, Alexander. You have to believe me. She is
there by the stream. Go see for yourself. I promise she is there and she is
lovely.”

Duncan spoke truth. She was the loveliest creature Alexander
had ever encountered.

As the black-haired beauty knelt by the brook mumbling to
herself, he stalked closer for a better look at what Duncan had found wandering
in the forest. The cut of her coat was odd but no more unusual than the fact
she was garbed in black from her neck to her toes. As she turned to glance
around, he caught a glimpse of her lovely face, pale cheeks stained with a hint
of red and lips plump and inviting, kissable. But it was her eyes that gave him
pause. Only once in his life had he ever seen that color of pale golden brown.

Long ago, down at the seashore, he’d stumbled upon a small
lassie playing among the rocks. She’d turned toward him as a seagull shrieked a
warning of his presence. She stared at him for a long moment before she raised
her hand and waved. He approached cautiously, not wanting to frighten her. But
she had accepted him being there as easily as she had the seabirds she loved to
watch soaring over the waves. They had played all that summer there on the
shore. She had called him “laird” and he had named her “my selkie”. He could
still see her tear-filled eyes as she told him she was going away and he had
denied it. He had promised her he would never leave her and then she had left
him.

Shaking the fanciful thoughts from his mind, Alexander
pressed closer.

What was this woman doing wandering the countryside in the company
of his young nephew? He’d struggled to control his temper when he found Duncan
alone back up the trail. The lad’s outlandish tale of finding a mysterious
woman in the forest had Alexander leaving his nephew with his men while he came
to seek her out. He stood back in the shadows, glancing around cautiously,
expecting her guard to explode from the trees. But the forest remained quiet
except for her mutterings as she sat by the stream. She remained unaware of his
presence as he spent some time watching her.

Something about the small lass called to him. Alexander
frowned at his unexpected reaction to her He glanced nervously around. Although
not normally a superstitious man, he had heard the outrageous stories about
wood fairies and sprites, wizards and witches and other strange occurrences
throughout the unexplored Highland forests, told around the campfire for
amusement.

According to Duncan, she had appeared out of thin air. She’d
saved him from the men of Clan Ross, who had been fast on Duncan’s tail as the
lad rode Caesar through the countryside, trying to make his way home. His heart
twisted as he thought about what could have happened without this woman
intervening. By her actions, she had earned his protection until he could
determine what to do with her. And he had a few questions for her. If by chance
he accepted her answers as true and believable, he had a mind to keep her.

No matter his young, mischievous relative had actually found
the woman—by her beauty and grace and her misfortune at having crossed his path
this day, he claimed her…whether she knew it or not. He moved up behind her.

“Kid?” Gusty whispered as she heard something moving in the
grass behind her, something creeping toward her. She opened her eyes, afraid to
move. As her gaze took in the opposite creek bank, she found nothing but trees
and bushes. Between her and there, the waters of the small stream flowed
undisturbed. She lowered her gaze to the water and saw the distorted reflection
of a very large, very barbaric-looking man with long black hair framing his
face. Startled, she jumped up. She stumbled and a squeak escaped her as strong
arms wrapped around her. The man who held her hauled Gusty backward against his
hard, unyielding body. His actions saved her from making a complete fool of
herself by sprawling facedown into the icy stream. Held tightly against the
massive chest of a giant whose arms bulged with hard muscle, she gasped for
air. He could crush the life out of her with great ease, she thought. Fearing
for her life, she twisted and wiggled to break free. She scratched at his
forearms, kicked at whatever part of his legs she could reach.

“Let me go, you barbarian!”

But the barbarian obviously had other ideas. Instead of
doing as she requested, he shook her until her teeth rattled and she went limp
in his arms. He then hoisted her under one arm and carried her up the creek
bank. When they reached level ground, she discovered her captor hadn’t come
alone. A band of similarly dressed men stood silently nearby, watching her. The
small boy stood next to a particularly tall, massively built individual who
sported a fierce frown. The youngster looked dejected and a little frightened
as he gazed across at her.

The deep rumble of words that emanated from the large man
who held her so securely sent a shiver of apprehension racing down her spine.
She couldn’t understand what he said but the words seemed familiar. Deep in the
recesses of her mind, she knew she should be able to decipher his meaning. Clearly
her captor was scolding the boy. His small shoulders drooped with each biting
word the huge man discharged in his direction.

“Now just wait a minute, buddy!” Gusty struggled to free
herself from his iron grasp. She couldn’t just hang there and let the barbarian
chastise the poor little boy in such a manner. The kid had saved her life,
after all.

Suddenly she found herself on her feet, facing the biggest,
most handsome specimen of manhood she had ever seen. He stood so tall she took
a step back and still she had to arch her neck to look up at him. Cold
silver-gray eyes seemed to bore into her and under the full force of his gaze
she felt as intimidated as the boy appeared to be.

Gusty wondered if she should not have been so impetuous.
After all no one had ever been hurt by a few harsh words. The big barbarian had
not laid a hand on the boy. At least not yet. She glanced at the child. Tears
streamed down his cheeks. The sight brought on a second burst of reckless
courage and she straightened up to her full height. Trying to ignore the fact
that the top of her head barely came to the middle of his chest and the huge
barbarian was as solid as an oak tree, Gusty opened her mouth to reprimand him
for his boorishness.

“You have something to say on the matter, lass?” He lifted
one wickedly arched black brow in a challenging gesture.

The growl of his deep, rich voice melted her already
strained nerves as a jolt of heat ripped through her body. She stared up at him
with her mouth gaping, momentarily losing her train of thought.

“Sonofabitch,” she mumbled in disgust over her simpering
behavior.

The tall barbarian’s eyes widened. Apparently certain curse
words had not changed much over the centuries. He tightened his full lips,
obviously displeased, either with her language or her interrupting his scolding
of the boy.

Suddenly she realized she could understand what he said. He
spoke to her in that strange foreign tongue the boy had used and she now
understood every word.

It’s Gaelic!

The man spoke in Gaelic. She had learned a smidgeon of the
language from her grandmother—not nearly enough to interpret an entire
sentence. But as if someone threw a switch in her brain, firing some long-ago
memory,
all
his words made sense to her. She understood every single
one. Not only understood them but realized she could speak the language as
well.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh with the boy. He’s done nothing wrong.”
She wanted to laugh at herself, she sounded so odd speaking something other
than English.

“He’s done nothing wrong?” The man took a menacing step
toward her, obviously trying to alarm her.

Gusty squared her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by
this overgrown, macho pretty-boy. Not only did she stand her ground, she
crossed her arms over her chest in a good imitation of his stance and glared
back at him.

“What is your name?”

His sudden change of topic took her completely by surprise but
before she could open her mouth he pressed on.

“Well? What are you called?”

“Her name is Gusty, Laird,” the boy muttered, never looking
up.

She gave the child a slight frown before returning her
attention to the handsome barbarian.

He stared at her as if he had never seen a woman. Gusty
flushed at the boldness of his perusal as his cool silver eyes raked over her
body. She waited breathlessly as he took his time looking at her. His gaze was
like a caress. Wherever it touched, her skin flushed with warmth.

Gusty shivered, despite her best efforts not to show any
reaction. The way he stared at her, as if he were stripping her naked and
caressing her with invisible hands, unnerved her. She was comfortable in her
own skin even if she didn’t resemble the women in the fashion magazines. She
had been told that the combination of her midnight-black hair and her whiskey-gold
eyes brought to mind a large jungle cat. She rather liked that analogy and at
the moment, she wished she had a panther’s courage so she could bluff her way
around the giant standing before her.

“What kind of name is Gusty?”