The Highlander by Heather Grothaus

Author:Heather Grothaus
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical, Scotland, Paranormal, Romance, Historical Fiction, Highland, Love Stories
ISBN: 9781420102420
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2008-01-01T14:00:00+00:00

Conall walked warily through the main avenue of his town, following the lively tune, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. ’Twas still early morning—a time when, normally, all should be quiet and still. Certainly there had been no cause for merrymaking in the MacKerrick town for…well, for years. But most assuredly, no one would have cause to play such an infectious melody this early in the day.

Even the cold air on which the honking music flew seemed to be changed, and although it wasn’t at all ominous, Conall was wary. So wary, in fact, that he jumped when the door to his own longhouse burst open, emitting a swell of music, raucous laughter, and his brother, Duncan, chuckling, cursing, and stumbling through the doorway into the street.

Duncan’s shining, flushed face brightened around his already present grin and he gave a dramatic start of surprise, throwing his arms wide and crouching.

“Conall!” he shouted. “You’re—oh, glory!” He broke off and turned back to the door, running into it in his haste and flopping like a moth before he managed to push it open. He ducked his head inside, causing his words to become only slightly muffled. “The MacKerrick has returned! The MacK—”

Duncan stopped again and turned mid-word to dance a bowlegged jig to where Conall stood, and Conall’s dread increased tenfold.

His twin was obviously ill. The state of things must have deteriorated to an abysmal low, forcing the townsfolk to eat tainted food, and it had driven them all mad. Conall was too late to save them, Eve Buchanan or nay.

But when Duncan pranced right up to Conall, it wasn’t madness in the merry green and bloodshot eyes he saw, it was joy and…

Conall gasped and jerked his head back. “Duncan, are you drunk?”

“As a monkfish!” Duncan laughed, emitting more noxious fumes into Conall’s face. Duncan grasped his brother’s upper arms and kissed each of his cheeks. Then his eyes widened and he looked to either side of Conall.

“But where is the lass? Surely you’ve nae left her—”

Conall brought his hands up in a blink, one gripping the back of Duncan’s skull, the other pressing over his flapping lips.

“Shh!” Conall whispered. “I told you, no one is to—Christ, Dunc! You’ve nae told anyone—”

Duncan shook Conall’s hands away and gave him a punching shove, his frown clearly conveying his offense. “O’ course I havena, you big, braying ass! But your plan!” His happy grin returned. “It’s worked, whatever it may be.” Duncan seemed to be restraining himself from jumping up and down. “You must see! Come! Come inside!”

Duncan spun haphazardly and jigged back to the doorway of Conall’s house and ducked inside, leaving Conall little choice but to follow. He took a deep breath and entered his home.

It was filled nearly to the bursting point with what seemed like half the town. People everywhere—in the beds, on low stools, cross-legged on the floor. Their faces turned to him as he stepped inside and they chorused a welcoming cry, vibrating the very rafters and Conall’s eardrums.

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