Highland Fling Part 12

He left their banter behind and smoothed her hair from her face. "Katie-love, I didn't know I could love anyone the way I love you. I didn't know I could feel this way about anyone, the way I feel about you. I care about my people and that is a blend of duty, and obligation and a measure of affection, but 'tis not the same." He drew her hand to his chest, held it against his heart. "I was dead inside. I died that day along with my mother and my brothers. But you resurrected me."

She drew him down to lie by her side. She caressed his cheek, her fingers lingering against his skin. "We've lived parallel lives in different times. I buried myself in my work and kept myself alone, apart. I didn't want to fall in love. You weren't part of my plan. My mother never remarried after my father died. There's a tendency in our family to love deeply and exclusively and there was never any thought that she might find another love. And that's what I've found with you, DarachMacTavish ." She smoothed her thumb over his lower lip. "I think it must go along with what Hamish said, sometimes it doesn't matter what we think we want."

He captured her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her delicate blue-veined wrist. "Our souls called to one another and there was naught we could do but heed their cry."

There was nothing more to be said. Words were unnecessary, superfluous. With no hurried movements, each undressed the other until they lay naked together on their wedding bed.

Darach kissed, touched every silken inch of his wife's skin. She returned his caresses with her hands and mouth. Like a fire stoked to burn through the night, their pa.s.sion was a steady heat between them.

Lying side by side, facing one another, her leg over his, he entered her. Like two streams converging to form a mighty river, they became one. With each thrust, he gave himself to her, until there was no sense of where he ended and where she began.

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Darach snapped his book closed with a grunt. Kate, her feet in his lap, put down the medical journal she'd been trying to read except, they were so tuned into one another, her husband's mounting frustration was almost a palpable force in the room.

She swung her feet to the floor, sitting upright on the sofa they shared. "Nothing?"

He put the book on the table and stood. "Nay." He dragged his hands through his black hair. "It's like a huge ocean and I'm but one wave and can do nothing to change the course of the tide."

She picked up a pen and notepad from the round table between the sofa and armchair. "Let's look at your options." She started a list. "You can go to the other leaders and tell them this is what happens on this day. No one will believe you. You can take a page out of a history book with you but I still don't think they'll believe you. That's option one. Option two. You can refuse to fight and you'll be labeled a traitor by your people and you and your people will still endure harsh rule under the British. That still leaves a lot to be desired. Third option, you can fight and you will die at Culloden." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "If you don't die on the battlefield, the British will find you and kill you. And that's still going to be a b.u.mmer for your people." She could make bad jokes or she could burst into tears. Bad jokes seemed her better option. The last thing he needed was a sobbing, clinging wife. "That pretty much sucks worst than the rest."

He nodded, his face grim. "The same options I come up with." He banged his fist on the table, rattling the lamp. "Bluidyh.e.l.l, I know there is something else out there. I just can't think of it."

"Probably because you're thinking so muchabout it." There had to be an answer. They couldn't just lay down and die on this, literally. They were two reasonably intelligent people and if they put their heads together and kept looking, they had to find an answer. Giving up was not an option. "Which is why we're going to list every option. We're going to brainstorm. And it doesn't matter how wild or crazy."

"Okay. I've got nothing to add to your list."

"These are options. Not necessarily solutions, but options. Things you could do." She couldn't seem to help herself. She'd sworn she'd never say it, but it came out nonetheless. "You could stay."

The words fell between them. She didn't need to say more. They both knew they could have a good life together. Sweet, hot notes of pa.s.sion sang between them, punctuated with pleasure's sighs. The contentment of loving and being loved. The giggles of small children.

Darach closed his eyes as if he didn't dare look at the future they could have. "And what becomes of my people, those that have given me their loyalty, their trust?" Pain laced each word. He opened his eyes but didn't look at her.

Desperation drove her to say things she knew she shouldn't. "If you go back you'll die anyway and that won't do them any good. Either way you'd be dead to them."

"And if I stay I would be dead to myself. Ne'er a day pa.s.ses that I am not tormented by the dream of growing old by your side." His dark eyes reflected that torment. He shook his head, his mouth a tight harsh line. "But Icannae do it and we will not speak of it again. I will either lead my people to safety through this dark time or die trying."

Kate laughed, but she couldn't hide the note of bitterness. "Of all the men in the universe across all time, why did I pick an eighteenth century Highlander with a Moses complex?" Ashamed of her outburst, she pressed her fingertips to her temple. This was not proving to be her finest moment. Darach said nothing and she looked at him in apology. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. If you weren't the stubborn, complicated man you are, I wouldn't love you so much that I ache."

He smiled at her by way of accepting her apology. "Moses? Mayhap I should grow a beard and proclaim to the English king to let my people go."

d.a.m.n him and his gallows humor. "Maybe you should," she said. "I'm sure you'd be devastatingly s.e.xy with a beard. Wait. Since you're going back alone, forget that." She went along with his joke and teased him in return by way of further apology. "I don't need to send you off any s.e.xier than you already are." They both knew she was just talking. She trusted him implicitly. He was one of the most honorable men she'd ever met. d.a.m.n, that was part of the problem. His stinking honor. He couldn't just walk away from his people. He was bound to lead them all to their doom.

Maybe...he...should. His eyes met and held hers and she saw an idea working in his eyes. Was it the same idea? "Moses led his people out..." she said.

"...in search of the promised land," he finished the thought. "Just this morning I was reading in one of the library books about Scots who left to seek a new life elsewhere."

Tentative hope clutched at her. "You could emigrate. Would your clan follow you?"

"A fair number. I am sure there would be those who decided to stay, but, aye, a fair number." A broad smile lit his face. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up from the couch, sending the pen and paper flying. "Katie-love, I think 'tis the key I have been searching for. There is a rightness about this." He caught her up in his arms and swung her about in a circle. His heart beat frantically against her chest.

Elation filled her. She wanted to sing, shout. "I think so too. This feels much more right, even with all the uncertainty, than knowing you die atDrumossie ."

"Aye. 'Twas easier to say I did not mind dying when I had nothing to lose." He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. "Even though you will be here, and I will be there, I will carry you with me in my heart."

They were on a roll, she might as well.... "I could come with you."

"No." He set her on her feet with a thud, his hands gripping her arms. "This is your place and your time. You belong here. I've had but a sample of your world and 'tis hard to give it up." He let her go and stepped away from her. "There are too many things you'd sacrifice. Think of the advances in medicine and the things you do to help people every day." He paced to the window, his back to her. "As a woman, you know more freedoms than at any time in the past. 'Tis vastly different to be a woman in 1744. And a woman's lot will not significantly improve any time soon." He turned and faced her. "Were you to go back with me, you'd never know the privileges you know now in your lifetime. And what about this breast cancer that runs in your family? You stand a good chance here, but there'd be nothing for you in my time." His face hardened to resolute implacability. "Absolutely not. We will not speak of it again." He crossed his arms over his chest as if it was the end of the discussion.

This laird ofGlenagan having spoken business didn't go over well with her. "But-"

"Think about it, Katie." Dammit, he didn't even give her a chance to talk. "Think about all those things you missed before and you were only there for a day and a night. No electricity. No running water. No telephones. No sleep number beds. No coffee. And what if you are going to have our child? Would you give birth in the middle of a sea voyage with nary a midwife in attendance?"

d.a.m.n him. That argument held more sway than all of the others. That argument silenced her.

He shook his head. "Katie-love," his voice softened, quietened, "you no more belong there than I belong here."

FOUR DAYS LATERKATElooked out of their hotel room window at their view of Central Park.

"At least it is not raining today," Darach said. He moved in behind, wrapping his arms around her.

Kate bit her lip, trying veryvery hard to keep herself together. She'd been fine yesterday on the flight from Atlanta to LaGuardia, distracted by Darach's first experience on a plane. Of all the technology he'd encountered, flying seem to captivate him the most.

She'd been fine when they met Hamish for dinner and Darach had laid out his hastily, yet carefully, drawn plans. Hamish had applauded his plan to lead the clanMacTavish to Quebec, which wasn't under British rule, and then to move further west, into unclaimed territory until after the revolutionary war. North America held opportunity, a similar climate and religious freedom.

She'd been fine during their early evening carriage ride through Central Park.

Today, she wasn't so fine. Today it seemed obscene that the sun bathed the city in a radiant light when her heart felt so bleak. And she would keep her bleakness locked inside and not taint the last few hours with the man she loved. She could spend those hours making love to her husband. She'd have a lifetime to mourn after he was gone.

She turned her head and kissed the warm skin of his arm. "Yes, at least it's not raining."

She s.h.i.+fted and slid her arms around his neck. "We've got a couple of hours before we need to meet Hamish at the museum." Three hours to be exact, before he'd meet them at the side door and slip them in ahead of regular hours. Three hours until Darach stepped back in time and she caught a cab for a flight back home and a night s.h.i.+ft at the hospital. She fitted her hips to his. "I think just enough time to slip in another lesson on being a proper husband."

He smiled but there was no hiding the melancholy that underscored their banter. "Aye. And I was just thinking you'd have the chance to practice your wifely skills." He backed her up until her legs b.u.mped the mattress.

She fell back and took him down with her. One more time to take him inside her, to know the pleasure, the satisfaction of loving and being loved in not just a carnal but a mystical, spiritual way.

"And I'm thinking this could work out to be mutually beneficial."

THREE HOURS LATER, the streets of New York flashed by the cab window. Darach held Katie's hand. His conscience smote him. He'd done naught to protect her from what she'd need protection from the most-him.

"I'm sorry, Katie-love."

"For what?" Even though a half smile hovered at her mouth, bleakness filled her eyes and he felt pain rolling off her in waves.

Would that he could take her pain and make it his own. But there was naught he could do to a.s.suage her wound. "That all of this happened. It would have been better for you if you had never tumbled through that picture..."

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. "No. Never say that. Never think that." She traced the line of his brow with one finger. "I will never regret the time I've had with you. The price hasn't been too high. I wouldn't give up the time I've had with you, what I've found with you for anything."

She leaned into him, her cheek resting against his heart, her hair brus.h.i.+ng his chin. He breathed in her scent.

"If the picture does not make it back-" he'd tucked a photograph of them on their wedding day into his kilt "-know that I will carry you always in my heart."

The cab pulled over to the curb. Katie took care of the fare and then they both climbed out. She clutched her overnight bag like a lifeline. Darach carried nothing more than he'd come with save their picture held against his chest and the wedding ring on his finger.

They rounded the building to the left, as they'd discussed, and Hamish stood waiting at the side entrance. "Ah, there you are. Come in." They were all silent as he and Katie followed Hamish. At this point, there was nothing left to say. Their footfalls echoed in the quiet with a hollowness he felt to his core. Was this what it felt like to walk to the gallows? Surely it could be no grimmer. They arrived at the portrait. Darach could hardly bear to glance at it. This was where it had begun and this was where it would end. What had he done? Bound her with vows and a love that would leave her alone and lonely. A decent man would give her leave to get on with her life. "Katie, if you should meet another-" Her look quelled him. "I won't. Never. I'll bear theMacTavish name with pride." Aye, he had fallen in love with the finest la.s.s of all time. "If you are..." He glanced toward her flat belly. "I will." She brought his hands to her lips and kissed them. She put him from her and he knew instinctively she did so in order not to cling to him. He dared not touch her either, for fear he'd never bear to let her go. She squared her shoulders. "I love you, DarachMacTavish , laird ofGlenagan , chieftain of the clan MacTavish ." Her voice rang with pride in who he was. "Aye, wife. I love you Katie Wexford-MacTavish, healer of men and their souls." He turned to face the portrait, a man coming face to face with the hangman. Hamish clapped him on the shoulder. "G.o.dspeed." Kate turned her head the other way as if she couldn't bear watching. With a gentle shove from Hamish, Darach fell into the painting and the vortex of swirling blackness, leaving Katie and her world behind.

"EVENING, DR. WEXFORD."Redd.i.c.k , the not quite as fresh-faced intern, greeted her that evening. She'd gone straight from the airport to the hospital. She was early for her s.h.i.+ft, but she simply couldn't face the emptiness of her condo yet. She wasn't sure whether it was a blessing or a bane that she'd go home to Darach's books and clothes and his lingering presence. She'd finagled the last four days off, no small feat, and now it was time to be back at work and give it one-hundred percent. She returned Redd.i.c.k's greeting.

"Evening. What's it like tonight?"

"Slow. Quiet."

"Oh." Not what she wanted to hear. She wanted to be so busy she didn't have time to think. She'd had the interminable cab ride and plane trip to think. She knew she'd feel better if she'd cry. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and beat her fists against her chest. But she couldn't cry. There was nothing there. She felt as empty and cold inside as one of the cadavers from med school.

She shook her head. This was crazy. She couldn't go through the rest of her life this way. But then she could probably cut herself a little slack. Tomorrow would be better and the day after that and the day after that. It was like a wound. She was still numb from the cauterization, but she'd heal and move forward.

She smiled atRedd.i.c.k . "Since it's slow, how about I treat you to a double latte?"

Redd.i.c.kreally needed to work on his poker face because his mouth all but dropped open at her offer. He picked his chin up off the floor. "Sure. Thankyou, Dr. Wexford."

She'd told Darach she'd bear his name with pride and there was no time like the present. Besides, to talk about him made it seem as if he weren't lost forever to her. "Actually, it's Dr. Wexford-MacTavish. I haven't changed it at the hospital yet, but I got married earlier this week." She smiled at speaking the words aloud, feeling slightly less hollow inside.

Redd.i.c.klooked very surprised and then he returned her smile. "That's great, Dr. Wexford-MacTavish. Congratulations." There was a pause. "Wexford-MacTavish. That's a bit of a mouthful,"Redd.i.c.k said.

The break room was virtually deserted and Kate fed her money into the machine. She laughed over her shoulder. "It is. But it has a nice ring, don't you think?"

She andRedd.i.c.k were in mid-toast whenTorri entered followed by a couple of lab techs and two nurses. Kate had worked several times with the red-haired nurse, Karen. She was smart, competent and professional-in other words, a pleasure to work with. She'd only seen the lab techs and the other nurse in pa.s.sing.

Torrieyed the two of them with a catty expression. "Did I miss something?"

Redd.i.c.k, bless his newbie heart, blurted out. "Dr. Wexford got married. Uh...I mean Dr. Wexford-MacTavish." He flashed a rueful smile Kate's way. "Sorry, it's going to take a while to get used to it."

Torristopped in her tracks. "MacTavish? The Scottish hunk? He marriedyou? "

An image of Darach stretched naked on her bed flashed through her mind.Torri didn't know the half of it. "I suppose Scottish hunk is a fairly accurate description, yes."

Torri'seyes glittered with malice. "Did he need a green card?"

Kate merely smiled when Karen rolled her eyes and mouthed "b.i.t.c.h" behindTorri's back.

Torri'sgaze flew to Kate's left hand, as if she wouldn't believe it until she had visible proof. "That's your ring?"

Kate rubbed her thumb against the band and held out her hand for everyone to see. "Yes. Isn't it beautiful? Blue diamonds set in platinum. Darach commissioned it. It's a one-of-a-kind." She wasn't above rubbingTorri's nose in it.

Everyone seemed to genuinely admire the ring except for the malcontent Dr. Campbell.

"It's certainly different,"Torri sniped.

Kate had never understood what made women likeTorri tick. Physically,Torri was a beautiful woman. She was smart enough. She made decent money. Why, then, was she such a b.i.t.c.h? Why did she constantly have to denigrate and belittle?

AndTorri wasn't through with Kate, yet. "Ladies, you won't believe how yummy he is." She looked Kate over from head to toe, her look clearly saying they'd never believe it because how could he be yummy if he'd chosen Kate. Could she possibly be more insulting? "I can't wait to see him again."

Kate had had enough. She smiled atTorri . "I don't think so. Let's see-exactly how did he describe you?" Kate pretended to ponder for a moment and then snapped her fingers. "Harridan. Yes. That was the exact word he used. Harridan." She nearly laughed atTorri's look of outrage. "You might want to look that up in a dictionary, but it doesn't mean hot." One of the lab techs couldn't stifle a giggle, which earned her a portion of the venomous lookTorri had shot toward Kate. Kate shrugged. "Sorry,Torri , he didn't find you quite as yummy as you found him."

Fleeting as it might be, Kate felt infinitely better.

"YOU ARE BACK," Hamish said with a smile of genuine welcome and relief. Of course this was the younger version of Hamish who didn't carry a cell phone and shop incessantly since those things had yet to make their way to his world.

"Aye, I am back." He'd landed in his bedroom, ascertained that his wedding picture had survived the trip, and then had sought out Hamish. He considered it a stroke of luck that he'd encountered no one before finding Hamish on the parapet. The older man appreciated the view from here at the end of a day, despite the cold wind that drove across the moor.

"And not a minute too soon. Everyone is restless, worried that they have lost their laird. There has been much despair amongst them that you had succ.u.mbed to your fever."

Just as he'd known, he could never leave his people. They counted on him. Twas his duty to take care of them, to protect them.

"Other than that, has it been quiet?"

"For the most part. OldEwan had a bit of cattle thieved which we took care of." Hamish's smile said he'd dealt swiftly with those foolish enough to thieve from aMacTavish . "What did you find out?"

Darach filled him in on the bitter history about to unfold in their lives and their country.

A dull red flush of anger tinged Hamish's face. "The Sa.s.senach outlaw the wearing of the colors and the playing of the pipes?"

"Aye. They consider both signs of war."

Hamish stared out over the moor, as if he could literally see the future advancing. "'Tis dark days indeed on the horizon." He turned his attention to Darach. "But I can see it in your eyes, you have returned with a plan."

Hamish listened attentively as Darach outlined theMacTavish exit strategy.

"It will not be easy," Hamish said when Darach concluded.

Darach squared his shoulders. He looked at the beautiful but merciless moor. He and his people were a rugged lot. The Highlands bred nothing less. "Neither will standing idly by while our way of life and our people die."

"What of the old? They will slow us down."

Darach knew Hamish didn't think they should leave them behind. Hamish tended to see his role as devil's advocate and there would be those in the clan who would ask. "We will naught leave behind anyone who wants to come."

Hamish nodded his satisfaction at Darach's proclamation. "And what might that be?" Hamish asked, pointing to his finger in the waning light.

Despite the seriousness of their subject matter, Darach couldn't contain his smile. "I got married while I was in the twenty-first century." He pulled out the photograph that had made the journey through time with him, holding the corner tight lest the wind s.n.a.t.c.h it from him. "Katie makes a bonnie bride, nay?"

Hamish clapped him on the back, a congratulatory grin near splitting his face. "Well, then where is she, man?"

He tucked the picture back into his kilt for safe keeping. "I believe she had to work the night s.h.i.+ft. She's a healer at a big hospital," Darach said.

Incredulity replaced his grin. "You married her and shedinnae come back with you? We could use a healer with her skills, especially on the journey we are about to undertake. Do you not remember how she saved the lad before? There was naught we could do for him."

"Aye, I remember. But it changes nothing." The wind had taken on a bitter edge, seeming to cut through to his soul. Darach shook his head. "She does not belong here."

A stubborn cast to his face, Hamish argued with him. "If you are here, how is it she does not belong here?"