Tempting the Highlander

Robbie closed the fridge door, set his fists on his hips, and glared at the priest. “And what exactly isour problem?”

Daar turned away to face the table and spoke to his coffee cup. “Your papa and the others are going back to their old time come June,” he whispered.

Robbie could only stare at Daar’s back.

“I have only three months to extend the spell that brought them here,” thedrùidh continued to his coffee. He finally turned to look at Robbie. “They will have been here thirty-five years on this summer’s solstice, and that’s when the spell runs out.”

It wasn’t a headache Robbie felt but a painful pounding in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. He was going to lose his father in three months? And Grey and the others?

Dammit. They had wives. And children. And a supposedly stable life here.

“Say something,” Daar whispered.

“Make it stop!”

“I’ve tried!” the priest snapped back, thumping his cane on the floor again. “I nearly blew up the summit house trying, and I started a landslide down TarStone!”

“That landslide was you?” Robbie whispered, his head filling with images of the destruction. “And the summit house fire last month? You started that?”

Daar looked down at his cane, rubbing one of the weathered cherrywood burls with an age-bent hand. “I also caused the flood that took out the town bridge last week.” He lifted his chin. “I was trying to figure out a new spell to extend the old one.”

Robbie ran an unsteady hand over his face. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known about this… this thirty-five-year time limit all along, and you’re just telling us now?”

“Notus,” Daar said, his eyes widening in alarm. “Just you. Laird Greylen and the others can’t know about this.”

“Why not? It’s their lives about to be destroyed.”

“But we can stop it,” Daar said with an eager nod. “You’ll go back in time and get me a new book of spells, and then I’ll be able to extend the old spell to keep them here.”

Still standing by the fridge, still reeling in shock, Robbie slowly shook his head. “Oh, no.

I know all about your attempts to replace the book you blew up twenty years ago. As long as you don’t have those spells, we are all safe—fires and landslides and floods notwithstanding.”

“But that’s what I’m trying to tell you. The five remaining Highlanders arenot safe.

Come the summer solstice, they’re headed back home.”

“They are home!”

“To their old home!” Daar shouted. He heaved a huge sigh. “Robbie,” he said softly, getting up and coming to stand in front of him. “I brought Greylen MacKeage here to father my heir. Ya know that already. But what nobody knows is that I only needed him here long enough to sire seven daughters and protect his youngest girl, Winter, until she

’s old enough to begin training as my successor. For me to have cast a permanent spell, I would have had to make concessions.”

“What kind of concessions?”

Daar took a step back. “I would have had to live out the rest of my u

Robbie stepped forward. “So, for your own selfishness, you chose to rip apart the lives of five men. Twice!”

Daar raised his cane as a puny defense. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. And it was only supposed to be Greylen, not the others. They were an accident.”

“Which makes me what? Another accident?”

Daar frantically shook his head. “Nay. You are their salvation. You were born their guardian and have become a fine warrior, Robbie. And now it’s time to fulfill your destiny.”

“By getting you a book of spells and restoring you to full power,” Robbie said, crossing his arms over his chest and settling his weight back on his hips. “How very convenient that my destiny perfectly matches your need.”

Daar gasped, stepping back and bumping into the table. “Ya think I’m lying?” He pointed his cane at Robbie. “A pox on ya, MacBain! I’m a priest!”

Robbie sprang from his negligent pose and advanced on the priest until that cane was touching his chest. He towered over thedrùidh and gave him a look so threatening that Daar stumbled backward into his chair and sat down with a thud. “Don’t even attempt to curse me, old man,” Robbie whispered. “My guardianship over my two clans is protected by divine right.” He leaned even closer, glaring into Daar’s widened blue eyes. “You’ve been allowed to live here only because Winter MacKeage will need your help in the future. And until then, you will stay quietly up at your cabin and consider yourself lucky to be under the protection of a benevolent laird. Because,” he continued, pulling the cane from between them and tossing it onto the table, “I would not be as forgiving as Laird Greylen if you had interfered in my life the way you did his.”

“It… everything worked out for him. He loves his wife and daughters and his new life here. All the Highlanders are happy.”

Robbie grunted, straightening away from him. “Only because you can’t further interfere in their lives.”

“I’m not completely powerless,” thedrùidh said, defiantly lifting his chin now that there was some distance between them.

“Aye. You can still start fires and floods and landslides.”

“I can still travel through time,” Daar added, once again leaning forward. “And the planets will be lined up just right tomorrow eve.”

Robbie closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with both hands before looking back at the tenacious old priest. He heaved a weary sigh. “There will be no time travel,drùidh. No spells and no book.”

“Then in three months, there will be five fewer men living in Pine Creek,” Daar returned. “It’s going to happen, Robbie, whether ya like it or not. Unless,” he quickly added, “ya travel to thirteenth-century Scotland and get me a new book.”

Robbie stared at him in silence. How many times had he been warned not to believe Daar? And how many tales had the old priest spun over the last five years, attempting to gain Robbie’s help in replacing his book of spells? But this was by far the most devious story to date. Daar knew Robbie would doanything to protect his family.

“No,” Robbie growled.

“Meet me on the summit of TarStone at sunset tomorrow,” Daar said, grabbing his cane and standing. “And bring yar sword.”

“No.”

“Ya might want to find the MacBain plaid your papa was wearing when he came here,”

the priest continued, walking to the door. “Ya can’t wear clothes made of modern materials or take anything else with you that hadn’t been invented back then.”

“No.”

Daar stopped, his gaze lifted to the ceiling but focused inwardly in thought. “I should probably send ya back about ten years after the Highlanders disappeared.”

“I’m not getting your book, old man.”

Daar leveled his crystal-clear blue eyes on Robbie. “Ya have no choice,” he softly told him. “Not if ya want your family to stay intact. Tomorrow at sunset on the summit,” he said, turning and walking out the door.

Robbie stood rooted in place for several seconds, then rushed out onto the porch. “Why me?” he asked the retreating priest. “Why not Greylen or my father or Morgan? They know that time, the ways of the people, and the terrain.”

Daar stopped in the middle of the driveway and turned to face him. “Though still vital men, they’re too old, Robbie,” he said. “I’m needing a powerful warrior in his prime.

Someone strong and cu

“What about Callum’s son? Or one of Morgan’s boys?”

Daar shook his head. “Their strengths run to business, not warring. MacBain raised you as a guardian. He understood your calling and prepared you well.” Daar shot him a crooked grin. “I’m thinking your short career as a modern soldier may also prove helpful, though you won’t be able to take any modern weapons with you.”

“It’s a moot point, because I amnot going.”