Highlander's Charm (Highlander Heat #3)

“Ardnamurchan was her destination, and if a wish took her from me, then that’s where she’ll be. We’ll search the coastal villages. I willnae rest until I find her.”


“And I’ll guard your back.” Colin gripped Calum’s forearms in a firm hold. “Virtue mine honor.”

“By death or life, we stand firm together.” He returned his brother’s strong forearm hold.

Never would he be able to halt Colin from joining him. He would need his brother’s strong sword-arm and steadying presence if he were to find his wife and bring her home.

Lila was his heart and soul, and peace would only come once he had her back.





Chapter 7


Lila scrubbed her gritty eyes then stretched and pushed her hands out from under the warmth of her bed covers. A new day dawned after another restless night spent with Calum infiltrating her dreams. The past fortnight, she’d had visions of him, and his frustration and worry had plagued her. Their bond had deepened over the past weeks, their separation not making an ounce of difference.

The door creaked open and Nanna peered in. “Good. You’re awake.”

“Come in.”

“The seamstress finished this gown. You should wear it today.” Nanna bustled across with a mass of silvery-blue fabric in hand.

“She works tirelessly.” She tossed the covers and scooted out. The seamstress was always pinning one fabric or another on her and she now had the most amazing wardrobe.

“I also bring good news.” Nanna smiled and her eyes lit up.

Her heart leapt. “Is it about John?”

“Yes. A scout returned during the night with word of your father’s coming arrival, and this morning the tower guardsmen sighted his traveling party on the hills. He’s almost here.” She passed her a pair of woolen stockings. “Put this on first.”

“I thought it would never happen.” Finally, she was going to meet her father. She bounced onto one foot, scrunched up the hosiery leg and shoved her toes in.

“Are you excited?” She smoothed out the silk gown then held it out.

“You know I am, but I’m not sure what kind of relationship we’ll have. It certainly won’t be the typical father-daughter one.” She flung her ivory cotton nightrail aside, slid her arms into the gown’s long sleeves and dipped her head as Nanna eased the shimmery fabric over top. The layers slithered down her body and brushed the polished floorboards. “What’s expected of me? How do I address him?”

“Just be yourself and don’t fret.”

“He’s going to have so many questions, and time travel isn’t exactly all that believable.”

“Yes. Our news won’t be easy to hear, but he must know the truth.”

“That’s a great plan. I’m all for honesty.” She seized her charm from the side table and pocketed it. “Have you got a plan B though?”

“Plan B is still to speak the truth.”

Shouts sounded outside and Nanna grasped her navy skirts and hurried to the window.

She raced after her and gripped Nanna’s shoulder.

The portcullis rose from within the stone gate, the clunky sound of its chains reverberating throughout the keep. Horses’ hooves pounded then a score of riders galloped in and hauled their mounts to a stop. The warrior at the party’s head bounded from his destrier in leather pants and a fur vest over a dark linen shirt. His thick brown hair sprinkled with gray was messed by the wind, and more than a week’s growth of stubble covered his jaw. “Is that him?”

“Yes, he looks older, stronger but older. He’s the image of his father now. Your grandfather passed away five years before you were born. John led the clan from the age of twenty.”

John turned to Ian and clapped him on the back. The two conferred, their voices lost within the excited chatter of their surrounding clan welcoming the warriors home. Then John lifted his gaze and found them. Such piercing green eyes, the color of the grassy moors.

“I don’t look anything like him, not the hair, eyes or face.”

“No, you look just like your mother. Marybelle had black hair and dainty facial features, as you do.”

An auburn haired woman in an emerald woolen riding habit called out to John from atop her horse and he crossed and assisted her down. Once on her feet, she pulled her brown fur cloak tighter about her, warding off the chilly autumn air. Her nose and cheeks glowed pink from her vigorous ride, and her breath puffed in a fog from her mouth.

“Is that Janet Campbell, Nanna?” The MacLean chief’s mother appeared around fifty, only a few years older than her father’s forty-six.

“Yes. She’s the one who saved John’s life.” Nanna clutched her hand as John escorted Janet inside. “We must go.”

“Do I look all right?” She fussed with her hair.

“Don’t be nervous.” Nanna pinched her cheeks then hurried out the door.