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  Her gaze settled on the young boy at her side and she finally understood he was trying to get her to hide before the riders came into view. She took a few more steps on unsteady legs. He pulled at her arm and she bent down as they made their way deeper into the undergrowth.

  “Hurry!”

  His frantic endeavors to get her to move faster had her worried about from whom they were fleeing. But before she could question him, he pulled her into a thick stand of trees and drew her down beside him.

  “Shhhh!”

  A moment later, the threat appeared. The riders zoomed past and disappeared through the trees, but not before Gusty caught a glimpse of them. The band of very large, wild-looking Scotsmen on horseback looked as if they were out for blood. Whose blood, she did not even want to surmise. But by the way the boy huddled close to her side, she guessed he might know. The men all wore plaids similar to the one the boy had on but of a different color. The child wore a kilt woven of a multitude of blue and green threads, while the group who had just ridden by wore red and black.

  The boy clutched her hand tightly. Gusty looked down and was surprised by the very adult look in his eyes, despite his young age. She quickly realized he was holding her hand to comfort her. She nearly smiled at his gallantry. What a little gentleman!

  “Thank you, little man, for saving me from the thundering horde.” She smiled down at him.

  At her words, the boy stared at her strangely. “Don’t worry, lady. The Ross’ men will follow Caesar. They will not notice I am not riding him until it is too late.”

  His statement, made in heavily accented English, took Gusty completely by surprise. For a moment she stared at him and then she shook her head. Pain pierced her brain and she barely suppressed a moan as stars danced before her eyes from her careless action.

  “And Caesar is…?” Gusty gingerly touched the raised, damp lump on her forehead, wondering just how badly she was injured. She drew back blood-covered fingertips. She winced at the stinging and the blood but she didn’t think the cut was too serious. Somewhere she had heard head wounds often bleed excessively. It was a concussion that could cause her a problem. She just hoped she didn’t have one.

  The boy left her side to walk back onto the path the horsemen had cut through the foliage. He glanced in the direction the riders had taken and then back the way they had come. He looked worried as he came back to stand before her.

  “Caesar is my horse. Are you all right, lady?”

  “Yes of course I am.” She paused at the look of disbelief on his face then said, “Does it look that bad?”

  She bent down so he could examine her forehead. With grubby little fingers he prodded around a bit. She winced but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Come. I know where there is a stream. You can wash off the blood there. You don’t want that wound to become inflamed.”

  “Thank you…” she replied dryly, pausing to give him time to supply his name. He didn’t take the hint so she introduced herself. “My name is Gusty.”

  Again she waited for him to give his name but he just kept walking. She followed him—for now she had little choice in the matter. Every so often he stopped and cocked his head as if he was listening for something.

  “You have an odd name. Are you from the Lowlands? Maybe the Isles? Aye, I bet you’re from the Isles. Nobody but those crazies would name somebody after the wind. It is too amusing.” He laughed until he snorted then he snickered some more.

  Gusty tried to ignore his rudeness as she followed behind him for several minutes. Not only was he making fun of her name, he had not yet supplied her with his. As he rambled on and on about the Isles she came to a sudden stop.

  “What do you mean ‘the Isles’?”

  “Aye, you sound odd and you don’t speak the Gaelic. My cousin doesn’t really like the Isle clans but he’d probably like you. You are very beautiful and you saved my life, after all. But then I saved yours too. I guess we’re even, lady.”

  “Hold on a minute, kid. What are you talking about?”

  “What?” The boy looked truly perplexed.

  “I want to know what you are talking about.”

  “We’re even. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and so on. Alexander would say it was an even trade. But I will still take you back to your holding.” He paused then added, “As long as it’s not the Ross’ holding.”

  He started to walk away, seemingly impervious to the troubled look Gusty gave him.

  “What the hell’s going on here? Where am I?” She whispered to herself. Something told her she might not be where she was supposed to be. For the first time since she had opened her eyes back there on the grassy ground she realized she wasn’t in Idaho any longer. She had no idea what had happened but it looked as if she was not even on the same continent.

  “You’re on the mainland of course,” the boy answered, obviously having heard her quiet self-inquiry. “Come on.”

  She refused to take another step until she got some answers. “What mainland?” Her voice shook a bit as her composure slipped.

  The boy turned and came back to stand in front of Gusty, his hands on his slender hips, his head tilted at a rakish angle. He looked up at her with the most beautiful, silver-colored eyes she had ever seen.

  “You must have hit your head hard, lady.” He still didn’t use her name. “You’re in the Highlands. On Ross land to be exact.”

  “The Highlands? As in the Scottish Highlands?” She could barely get the words out. Her stomach did a somersault and the throbbing pain in her head was increasing by the second. Maybe she had hit her head harder than she had realized. Perhaps this is all just one of my bad dreams, she thought but then paused and shook her head in denial. She could almost believe that was exactly what she was experiencing if it weren’t for the fact her body hurt so much. All her bruises and scrapes ached and she was beginning to pant. Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as she awaited the boy’s answer.

  “Aye, in Scotia. Lady, are you all right?”

  For the first time since she had awakened, the boy’s composure seemed to falter. Perhaps her nervousness was catching. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be left out in the middle of the dark woods with a woman who seemed to be out of her mind, had a bleeding head and who kept mumbling to herself.

  Gusty did not want to believe what was happening to her. She gave her arm a hard pinch and squeaked in pain, but she needed something more to prove to herself that she wasn’t just dreaming and this was not one of her nightmares.

  “Where’s that stream you were going to show me? I need some refreshingly cold water.”

  He gave her an odd look that said he thought she was crazy but he just made a grunting noise in the back of his throat and motioned for her to follow him.

  “It is not far, a short distance. Just over the next hillock.”

  The short distance to the stream turned out to be farther than he’d led her to believe. They walked for what seemed like an hour before they finally came to a small creek that meandered its way through the ever-darkening woods.

  Gusty fell to her knees on the bank, hurting and exhausted. The knock she had taken on her head left her with a headache and the damn boots she had been so pleased with when she bought them were certainly not made for hiking in the woods. Her toes felt pinched and she was developing blisters on her heels. She reached down and swished her hands in the clear, inviting water to wash some of the dirt from them and then paused.

  What the…?

  She turned her hand over and stared at her empty finger. Oh no! Her mother’s ring was gone. When had she lost it? She had it on when she was sitting on the bench waiting for Michael. But then…?

  Gusty was too exhausted to think straight. With a sigh she cupped her hands, splashed a good portion of water onto her face. The chilliness of the water had her gasping and she began to shiver. The realization of what was happening to her had her mind skidding about for an acceptable explanation. But the truth
seemed plain—the water would not feel so icy if this were simply a dream. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Gusty had to concede she was no longer in control of her life. For some unexplainable reason she had been transported to another place and time. The famous lines from an old movie came to mind and she whispered them as she stared at her reflection in the stream.

  “I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore,Toto.”

  Eyes bored into her back—the boy must’ve been watching her. Any further conversation at the moment was beyond her capabilities so she busied herself by washing her hands and face in the icy water. She did not want to accept what was happening to her. The fact that she had somehow ended up in the Highlands of Scotland in the company of a boy whom she had, only an hour before, pushed out of the way of a speeding car was more than enough to swallow right now. She still had to determine exactly what year she had landed in. If the outfit the boy wore was anything to go by, she guessed she would soon learn what it was like to live in the Middle Ages.

  She needed time to gather her thoughts and form a game plan to get her home.

  A pair of ruby slippers would certainly come in handy.

  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.