Authors: Terisa Wilcox
Iain sensed her change of mood
and let her go, though he wanted
not
h
ing
more to continue to hold
her close.
That
should
worry him, but for some inconceivable reason it did
n't
. At least
not
as much as he thought it should.
He shrugged and moved to his
horse to get the saddlebag full of food his
màthair
had
insisted he br
ing
with him, as well as the
blanket. He handed the plaid to Kristianna who proceeded to spread it out on
the soft, mossy ground.
When they
had
the food spread out, he looked at her. She
looked back at him, then started to giggle.
"Do ye find my visage so
amus
ing
then lass,
that
ye would laugh at
it?"
"No, of course
not
," she assured him,
still smil
ing
. "It's
just
that
you're so
quiet." She raised a brow at him, "I know you
have
a
lot
of questions for me. Especial
ly
about what it
was
I
found so funny earlier." She paused a moment, consider
ing
her next statement. "I
have
a few questions
for you as well, actual
ly
."
Iain quirked a brow at her. "And
ye wish to trade answers wi' me, is
that
it?"
She nodded.
"If I say nay, ye will
refuse to answer my questions, willnae ye?"
"
Not
necessari
ly
.
But I think it would be fair if we just traded. It's the best way I can come up
with
that
we'll both
get our questions ans
were
d,
do
n't
you think?"
Iain pondered her suggestion a
moment or two before he nodded his ascent.
"Aye,' twould be the easiest
way, I imagine." He grinned at her, "and I will e'en give ye the
first question, lass."
"How chivalrous of you, my
laird."
"I've been known to trot it
out on occasion. It doesnae show itself often, though, so I suggest ye take
advantage of it whilst ye
ha'e
the opportunity." His eyes twinkled with mirth, and Kris' breath caught in
her throat at the dimple
that
appeared on his cheek.
She shook aside the sudden urge
to kiss
that
dimple
and concentrated on her first question. "Okay, here goes. Why did you name
your horse Elvis?" She held her breath, wait
ing
for his answer.
"Fair enough question, I
suppose, and simple enough to answer." He shrugged. "'Tis a name my
màthair
taught me."
"Your
mother
?" She
was
stunned. How could his
màthair
know
that
name? It
was
too much of a
coincidence to be a coincidence. "Why would she…I mean, how would
she…?"
Iain held up a hand, "'tis
my turn now."
Kris' sigh could
have
blown him over. He
grinned to himself. The lass
was
used to gett
ing
her
way.
"Here's my question,
although I think ye know well what it is. What
was
it ye found so amus
ing
today in the courtyard? 'Tis a wonder ye dinnae make yourself ill ye
were
laugh
ing
so hard."
Kris took a deep breath. How
could she answer
that
without rais
ing
his
suspicions about his
mother
?
Could she answer it without him be
ing
wary again? She closed her eyes brief
ly
,
wonder
ing
if she
should give him the entire truth. She shook
that
thought away instant
ly
.
She'd already told enough falsehoods. She could
n't
br
ing
herself to tell
a
not
her, especial
ly
if what she
was
beginn
ing
to suspect where in
fact, true.
"I'm
not
sure you're go
ing
to
like
the answer to
that
."
She said, pluck
ing
nervous
ly
at her
shirt.
"Be
that
as it may, we agreed to this bargain. I
willnae ha'e ye back out now just because ye think I willnae
like
the answer ye gi'e
me."
"Okay, here goes." She
thought for a moment before giv
ing
him the same type of simple answer he'd given her, "I found the name you
chose for your horse funny." There, she decided, pleased with herself.
Iain looked baffled. "Why
would ye…"
Kris held up her hand this time,
"uh uh, on
ly
one
question at a time. Now it's my turn." She laughed at his disgruntled
look.
"Ye play for keeps dinnae ye
lass?"
"What's fair is fair. You
would
n't
let me finish
my question before, so now I get to."
"Fine, then. What is your
next question?"
Kris thought
very
careful
ly
about how to phrase her
next question in order to get the most information she could out of him.
"When did your
mother
tell you about
that
name, and why would she
use it in the first place?"
"
That
is two questions again, lass."
"No, it's
not
." Kris shook her
head, "it's all one sentence so therefore it's all one question."
"'Tis no' the way of it at
all. 'Tis two questions." Iain insisted.
"Whatever. You answer it, or
them and I'll answer your next two."
Iain glared at her a moment, then
grinned. "Ye are a wi
ly
lass, arenae ye?" He glanced at the water a moment then, "verra well,
ye win. When I
was
a
lad, my
màthair
used
to tell us bairns stories. Fantasy stories she made up to entertain us. Bedtime
stories she called them. I
was
verra taken wi' them as a child and most nights couldnae wait until 't
was
time for bed so I could
hear a
not
her story. Elvis
was
the name of one of
her characters. I assume she made the name up. She
has
a verra good imagination."
"Bedtime stories." Kris
wheezed. Her breath seemed to solidify in her throat. She took a gulp of wine
and began to choke. Iain thumped her on the back several times. Final
ly
, she raised her arms
above her head until she got her breath back and settled the cough
ing
. "What other kinds
of stories did she tell you?"
Iain looked at her and shook his
head.
"Okay, fine." She blew
her hair out of her eyes and gave him a disgruntled look. "Your turn. But
hurry because now I
have
a lot
more questions
for you than I original
ly
had
."
Iain did
n't
hesitate, but jumped right in with his next
inquiry, "why would ye find my horses' name so amus
ing
?"
Well, Kris thought, here goes
not
h
ing
, or e
very
th
ing
.
"You
have
to promise me
that
you wo
n't
freak out.
That
you'll
still answer more of my questions."
Iain looked at her a moment, try
ing
to puzzle out some of
her words. He got the basic mean
ing
of them and nodded.
"Aye, lass. I promise ye
that
no matter what your
answer, I will answer the rest of your questions. Now, what
was
so funny about my
horses' name?"
She eyed him skeptical
ly
for a minute then plunged
in. "I found your horses name hysterical actual
ly
,
not
just funny. The reason I did is because Elvis is a name from my century. There
are two
that
I know
of. One
was
Elvis
Presley, he died, but his music is still awesome, in my opinion anyway. Then
there's Elvis Costello. They're both s
ing
ers
and they're both from my century. Well, they
were
actual
ly
popular and
more in fashion in the mid-twentieth century, but I wo
n't
quibble over a few years."
Kris watched him close
ly
for his reaction. He
stared at her, blinked a time or two, and closed his eyes as if try
ing
to digest what she'd
just told him.
"S
ing
ers? Mean ye minstrels?"
She nodded.
Iain
was
sudden
ly
pale as a sheet.
"Are you alright?" Kris
asked, reach
ing
her
hand out to touch his arm. He opened his eyes and looked at her with such
bewilderment, her heart went out to him. Sure
ly
he got the implication of what she
was
tell
ing
him. Otherwise
he would
n't
look so
devastated.
"I am well enough."
Kris
was
quiet for a time, lett
ing
herself become lost in
her own thoughts. There
was
on
ly
one way Sorcha
could know those names. Okay, possib
ly
two ways. First, she either met someone who also came from the twentieth
century, or second, and here Kris hesitated to let the thought form. It pushed its
way forward anyhow. Or second, Sorcha herself
had
somehow traveled here from a
not
her
time, a time when both Elvis'
were
known.
"Iain," she final
ly
spoke.
"Aye, lass. There isnae any
need to say anyth
ing
. I
know what ye are think
ing
."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Do you?"
"Aye," he sighed,
"I do. My
màthair
told me many stories in my youth. Some with those names ye mentioned in
them."
"We should go speak with
your
mother
."
"We will, soon. Howe'er,
right now I think we should talk a bit more about this, dinnae ye?"
Kris considered a moment. "You
may be right. We want to
have
all our ducks in a row before we confront, err, talk to your
màthair
."
"Aye, lass, ye
ha'e
that
aright. And confront her we shall,
together. If what we both suspect is true, she could ha'e saved us both
a lot
of trouble
had
she but spoken on this
before."
Kris nodded. She did
n't
want Iain upset or angry
with his
màthair
. She
did
n't
want to be
angry at the woman either, but she found she could
n't
help but be a bit peeved nonetheless. No
wonder the lady
had
believed her story so readi
ly
.
"Tell me about some of yours
and your sibl
ing
s'
favorite tales. Maybe from them I can piece together some information about
exact
ly
when your
mother
is from." She
stopped a moment, "she could
have
heard these stories from somewhere you know. Maybe from someone else who
had
somehow traveled from
the future? Did you
have
any odd visitors at any time? Ones
that
maybe dressed funny or you just did
n't
understand?" She
really
wanted to give Sorcha the benefit of the doubt.
Iain thought about
that
for several long
minutes. Final
ly
, he
shook his head, "no'
that
I recall. I
was
just a
lad. Still, I think I would recall someone
like
that
, though mayhap
no'
." He looked at her,
his eyes full of someth
ing
Kris could
not
quite
define. "I'm
sorry, lass. I'm sorry I dinnae believe ye. If I'd known about my
màthair
," he hesitated,
"I would
have
more readi
ly
believed
ye."
"There's no need." Kris
waved away his apology. "If the roles
had
been reversed and you'd shown up in my time, I'm sure I would
have
done
pretty
much the same th
ing
s, probab
ly
worse th
ing
s too." Actual
ly
, she'd probab
ly
have
called the cops and
had
him locked up in a
mental ward. "Anyway, pour me some more wine and let's get down to
business. You
have
some
details to fill me in on. What kinds of stories did you
like
the best? And what about your brothers and
sister? What kinds of tales did they enjoy best?"
Chapter Twelve
Iain's face took on a faraway
look as he began. For the next hour or more, he regaled Kris with stories from
his youth. As he spoke, Kris saw the Highlands through his eyes and came to
have
a better understand
ing
and appreciation for the
way of life in this century.
True, it could be a hard and
harsh life, with each clan struggl
ing
to scratch out a liv
ing
and survive, but there
was
a beauty here as well. Kris could hear Iain's love for
not
on
ly
his fami
ly
and his
clan, but for this land as well.
He spoke of his childhood with a
wistfulness she could readi
ly
hear and understand. She laughed when he told of the pranks he and his elder
brothers used to play. He chuckled along with her when he told her of how he
and his brothers
had
filled the guardsmen's boots with pig muck then hid themselves to watch the
reactions of the men. His description of the looks on the guards' faces when
they stuffed their feet in their boots sent her into fits of giggles.
"My brothers and I thought
it a great jest and laughed long and hard o'er it. Until my father appeared
behind us and fairly blistered out ears wi' a lecture until we thought the poor
abused appendages would ne'er be the same again. I swore my ears
were
near to fall
ing
off he lectured us so
long."
"Reminds me of someth
ing
my brothers would
do." Kris said between chuckles.
"Aye, I imagine a lad is a
lad nay matter the century and finds mischief where he can."
Kris munched on a piece of cold
chicken, lost in thought for a moment or two before she gazed at Iain.
"So, tell me,
were
there any kinds of th
ing
s your
mother
might
have
told you about
that
weren't
common knowledge at the time? Th
ing
s
that
seemed far-fetched and
not
possible?"
"Ye mean where there th
ing
s in her tales other than
knights and battles, jousts and chivalry?"
Kris nodded over the rim of her
cup then reached for a particular
ly
plump look
ing
pastry.
"Aye, there
were
many of those. I dinnae
think them odd at the time. No' until I related a few tales to some of my mates
when I went to foster wi' the Grant laird." He stared at the stream a
short distance away for several moments. "Come to think on it, my brothers
and I dinnae go to foster until well past the normal age for lads to do the
like
. At first, my
màthair
would no' e'en hear
of it. Said she refused to ha'e her sons go off to ha'e someone else teach them
the th
ing
s
that
she and my father could
teach them just as well, if no' better. She final
ly
relented when I neared my thirteenth year. And then she insisted 'twould on
ly
be for a year or so, nay
more than
that
. When
it came time for Cait
ly
n
to do the
like
, she
ne'er relented. She put her foot down and wouldnae e'en hear it discussed. People
thought it odd, but I ne'er thought much about it until now."
"
That
's a high
ly
unusual attitude to take, is
n't
it?"
"Oh, aye, it is. Foster
ing
is a tradition
that
goes back many years
and is usual
ly
done
when the bairn is nay more than eight or nine. Although 'tis sometimes done at
a younger age, mayhap five or six."
Kris gasped. "I can
understand your
mother
not
wish
ing
to do
that
. It's certain
ly
not
someth
ing
that
's done in my
time."
Iain raised a brow at her. "Interest
ing
,"
was
all he said.
"
That
it's
not
done in the twentieth century or
that
your
mother
was
so against it?"
Iain grinned, "both."
"I
agree." Kris drank the last of her wine. "Okay, what else?"
"Hmm, let's see. She told us
tales of horseless carriages, automobiles or cars, she called them. One of my
favorite tales
was
of
a man in a rocket ship f
lying
off to the moon. Aye, now there is someth
ing
that
always fascinated
me, especial
ly
as a
young lad. She loved to make up games for us to play as well. When us lads
would get too rough and start a wrestle or two, she would send out to the
courtyard to 'burn our energies' she said. We played football wi' the
guards." He gave her a mischievous smile, "she used to tell us
that
train
ing
in the lists
was
no' enough to tame all
our excessive energy and tire us out. She
was
also heard to tell my father on numerous occasions
that
lads needed time to play as well as time
for learn
ing
someth
ing
other than swords and
battles."
"You know about football?"
Kris
was
incredulous.
"Aye, I know someth
ing
of it. My
màthair
told us stories
about it and e'en explained some of the moves to the game. My brothers and I
enjoyed it verra much as did the guards and men at arms."
"I love football. I'm
addicted to it. My brothers got me hooked a few years ago, then when the Pats
went to the Super bowl, wow,
that
was
just the best. They've
won a few of those, even though they lost this year. They
almost
had
a perfect season too. I
was
not
happy with them for a bit." She shrugged,
"I got over it though. There's always next year." She stopped, wonder
ing
if she'd be there next
year to see if they won or
not
.
She waved the thought aside, "anyway, what else did your
mother
tell you? What
were
some of your sister's
favorite stories?"
Iain thought a moment, try
ing
to remember.
"I dinnae know. She always
like
d the romantic stories. There
was
one
that
my brothers and I
enjoyed listen
ing
to
as well sometimes. Aye, it
was
someth
ing
of a
romance, but it
had
wars and battles in it also. I dinnae recall the name, but I recall the people
lived on a grand estate called Tara. My
màthair
always spoke wi' a pass
ing
strange accent when she told us
that
particular tale."
Kris gasped, "
Gone With
The Wind
." She clapped her hands, "
that
's
one of my favorite movies. Oh, err, stories."
"Ye know of
that
tale?"
"Of course I do. It's one of
my favorites. I love Rhett Butler."
"Hmm,"
was
all Iain replied.
"Anyth
ing
else you can
remember?"
Iain furrowed his brow in
concentration then shook his head, "nay. No' right now, leastwise. I may
think of someth
ing
else later, but for now, I think 'tis enough. Do ye
have
any ideas about when she may be
from?"
"
Not
yet, but I'm gett
ing
closer. I know it
has
to be sometime in the twentieth century at
least, otherwise she would
n't
know about these th
ing
s."
She started to get up. "I think now we need to go buttonhole your
màthair
."
"Ye mean confront her?'
"
That
's exact
ly
what I mean." Kris began repack
ing
all the leftover food in the saddlebag.
That
done, she handed the bag to Iain and shook out the plaid, hand
ing
that
to him as well. "I sure wish I
had
my backpack with
me."
"Why is
that
?" Iain felt a stab
of guilt at her words.
"Because then I could show
you some of the th
ing
s
you mentioned. I
had
a
cd player in there, a cell phone, oh all kinds of th
ing
s you'd be fascinated by. And my favorite th
ing
, coffee." She
sighed with yearn
ing
, and
looked at Iain serious
ly
,
"they could also get me burned at the stake for a witch." She met his
gaze. "It's
not
a
big deal,
really
. I'd
just
like
to show you
some of the th
ing
s,
that
's all."
She thought of the pictures of
her fami
ly
contained
in
that
bag. It would
have
been
nice
to
have
them as well. Then
again, her school id and her license
were
also in there, so maybe it
was
a good th
ing
it
was
lost.
They mounted their horses and
made their way back through the trees and across the meadow to the keep. Com
ing
to a stop in the bailey,
Iain helped her to dismount, then took their horses by the reins and led them
into the stable. He left them in the care of the stable master. Normal
ly
he would
have
seen to them himself,
but he
had
more urgent
matters wi' his
màthair
too tend to. Matters he did
not
wish to put off any longer.
He also
had
some serious think
ing
to do about Kristianna's pack. He still
had
it hidden away in his
rooms, but
had
begun
to feel the st
ing
of
guilt over keep
ing
it
from her, especial
ly
now. He should
really
return it to her. 'T
was
her property and on
ly
right for her to
have
it. Aye, he nodded thoughtful
ly
,
as he came to stand in front of her, he would see it returned to her after they
had
spoken with his
màthair
.
Kris
not
iced Iain's thoughtful look and wondered at
it brief
ly
. Perhaps he
was
concerned about
this confrontation with his
mother
.
It
was
quite
a bafflement as to why
the lady
had
kept such
a th
ing
a secret,
especial
ly
in light of
Kris' appearance. Kris
had
a million questions to put to Sorcha herself. First and foremost,
had
she ever tried to return
to her own time? If she
had
,
it could
n't
have
been successful as she
was
still here. Or
had
she chosen to remain?
She gave Iain a sidelong glance
as they made their way into the keep and to his
mother
's
chambers. The camaraderie they shared today
was
new to her. She'd on
ly
shared a bit of someth
ing
like
it with her sibl
ing
s and Hailey before. She'd
certain
ly
never
had
it with David. It
frightened her a little now.
Her grandparents
had
it, of course. She'd
never seen a couple more devoted to each other, or more in love. It
was
a love
that
lasted, even after her
grandfather's death several years before her grand
mother
. It
was
what Kris
had
hoped to
find, once upon a time.
Now, she
wasn't
convinced
that
kind of love and devotion existed anymore.
Not
for her anyway.
Not
after her experiences with David and a few others over the years as well. Maybe
her grand
mother
had
been right when she'd
told her she
was
dat
ing
the wrong kind of men,
that
she'd never find what
she
was
look
ing
for with them.
She shrugged off those thoughts. There
wasn't
much she could
do about any of
that
now, anyway. She should concentrate on the questions she
had
for lady Sorcha. She
glanced at Iain again. He
really
was
a
very
handsome man.
Not
just on the outside, but
on the inside as well.
Oh, he might portray himself as
gruff and unapproachable, grouchy even. But she'd seen a different side to him
today. In retell
ing
her tales of his childhood, she saw a man who still
had
a sense of humor, who
had
honor and chivalry,
though he did
n't
drag
it out and show it often.