Highlander's Love: A Scottish Historical Time Travel Romance (Called by a Highlander Book 4) by Mariah Stone

Author:Mariah Stone [Stone, Mariah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stone Publishing
Published: 2020-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Two days later…

* * *

“What now, lass?” Owen said.

They sat on their horses on top of a small hill. Amber stared at Glenkeld, the small castle on the shore of the loch. The loch was still, and the castle, hills, and mountains were reflected on its smooth surface. Tiny compared to Stirling, it had one large, square tower and four curtain walls, more or less like Inverlochy. Smoke rose from somewhere behind those walls. Sheep and cows grazed around the castle walls, and the air smelled like manure, grass, and flowers.

This was Owen’s home.

Not hers.

Amber bit her lip. Where was her home, anyway? Ever since her mom and dad died, and Jonathan sold the house to divide the profits between them, she’d had no place to come home to. She’d let go of her apartment before she went to serve in Afghanistan. In a way, the army was her home.

Until that home had betrayed her.

So what now?

What she really wanted was to go back to her time, get the murdering, drug-smuggling bastard behind bars, and clear her name. A life in hiding, of looking over her shoulder, of anger at the injustice, would eat at her soul. If she were brave enough, she would make her way back to Inverlochy and go through the stone back to the twenty-first century. She’d go to Jonathan. She’d hire an attorney, and she’d work relentlessly on gathering evidence against Jackson.

But those were only dreams. The reality was Jackson would crush her. She wasn’t strong enough to take on a giant like him. She’d never confronted her brothers in the past, and she hated that she was a helpless coward.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I definitely can’t go back to my time. They’ll get me there.”

Owen presented a magnificent view—a medieval warrior sitting proudly on a horse. A strand of his blond hair fell across his forehead. The bruises on his face added roughness to his handsome features, and his bristle was turning into a short beard the color of wheat, white gold, and a little bit of amber. She could sink into his green eyes and be lost there forever. That would be a wonderful home for her.

“So if ye canna go back”—he swallowed—“what will ye do?”

He was perfectly still, waiting for her to reply, and yet she could see his chest rising and falling faster, and the vein in his neck pulsing quicker.

What would she do? She could stay here in this time.

Was she actually crazy enough to consider that? The brawny Highlander in front of her had nothing to do with it. It was safer here…for the most part. When she wasn’t being chased and tortured by the English.

“I suppose I could stay here. Your family won’t want to put me in a dungeon, will they?”

He laughed. “Nae. Ye’re safe with us. And I promise de Bourgh wilna touch a hair on yer head if I have any say in that. So will ye be a guest of our clan?”

“A guest? Sure.

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