Page 8 of A Bridge Through Time (The Bridge Through Time #1)

C ailin MacBayne sat atop his strong and dependable horse, Cadeyrn, camouflaged by the trees.

He watched and waited. For the last few days, he’d been on a solitary scouting mission.

A band of men, led by the Englishman, Sir Richard Jefford, had somehow slipped by Cailin’s guards and had been raiding the MacKenzie clan’s lands.

They’d left a trail of burnt-out cottages and fields in their wake, as well as helping themselves to the clan livestock.

Cailin felt personally responsible for these attacks.

If he’d only been more vigilant, he may have been able to prevent them.

He’d somehow missed these Sassenach marauders, as they made their way from one outlying crofter’s cottage to another.

Luckily, there had been no loss of life to this point, and for that, Cailin was grateful.

Still, he felt it was his responsibility to locate Sir Richard, and return to Breaghacraig with information.

Only then could the clan formulate a plan of attack.

The head of the clan and Cailin’s brother-in-law, Robert MacKenzie, had objected to Cailin’s plan, so Cailin had stormed off on his own.

“Where are you going, Cailin?” Robert had demanded.

“If I can’t go after Sir Richard, then I’m going to go hunting and while I’m off, I’ll be thinking about why yer so stubborn.”

“I dinnae believe I’m the stubborn one, Cailin! I’m concerned for yer well-being. If I let ye go and ye come to some harm, yer sister would have me head.”

“Oh, so I see. ‘Tis my sister who is the true laird of the clan!”

Robert sighed and Cailin knew the argument would not continue. “Do as I’ve told ye and stay away from Sir Richard! I’ve sent more of our best men off to guard our lands. He’ll nae get past them,” Robert said.

“I’ll do as ye say, but I’m still going hunting,” Cailin retorted.

Robert opened his mouth to respond, but Cailin beat him to it.

“Alone.”

So Cailin had gone. He’d nae disobey his Laird, but while he was hunting, if he happened to come across Sir Richard, he’d be honor bound to spy on him and perhaps formulate a plan of attack.

As he waited in the forest, deep in thought, he went over the things he knew about these interlopers.

He was sure they must have arrived by sea, as it would have taken them many weeks to ride from England to the Highlands, and they would have been forced to cross the lands of many clans in their travels.

Nae an easy task and Cailin was positive the MacKenzie’s would have been notified at once of their presence on other clan lands.

He also knew they were stealing livestock to feed themselves.

They’d been dining well, based on what he’d seen at their abandoned campsites.

Still, it was a puzzle to him, as to where they had landed and what they planned to do next.

He knew he was getting closer and was certain they were nearby.

He decided to stay where he was and listen.

A large group of men travelling in the vicinity would make enough noise for him to hear them, and allow him to follow behind without detection.

As Cailin waited, his ears perked up at what sounded like a woman screaming for help.

He listened carefully and heard it again, this time paired with the sounds of a man's voice.

Cailin spurred his horse in the direction of the screams. They grew louder as he rode and seemed to emanate from the fog at the mouth of the woods.

He hoped it wasn't a trap. Nae matter what it was, a woman needed his help.

As he rode through the strange fog, it cleared before him and he saw a young woman, dressed in tight fitting men's breeches.

She was fighting off a man, who was much larger than she was and seemed determined to drag her away with him.

The woman put up a good fight, and succeeded in knocking her attacker down.

She held something in her hand, which sprayed a fine mist into the man's face.

Whatever it was must be very painful, because the man rolled on the ground, shrieking in agony.

She turned in Cailin's direction, and looked ready to run when the man scrambled to his feet and lunged towards her.

Cailin had seen enough and took action; spurring his horse into a gallop.

The woman seemed startled by his appearance, but had the presence of mind to run to one side as Cailin rode by.

With one arm, Cailin hit her attacker and sent him flying over the side of the bridge.

He wheeled his horse back towards the woman, who stared at him in amazement.

As he reached her, she turned and began to run away.

Cailin leaned over the side of his horse, wrapped one strong arm around her waist, and hoisted her into the saddle, so that she ended up in his lap.

"Dinnae fash, lass. Yer safe now."

He held her close to his body and rode at breakneck speed, back through the fog before slowing Cadeyrn to a trot. He could feel the woman shaking and he spoke soft, soothing words into her ear.

Cailin rode a little further, before coming to a halt and moving the lass off his lap. He dismounted and reached up; encircling his hands around her waist, he easily lifted the young woman down from the horse.

"Did he hurt ye, lass?" he asked, examining her from head to toe.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for saving me." She smiled up at him and he saw her expression change to one of surprise. "Grey eyes…it’s you!" she said, and then she promptly fainted.

Cailin caught her before she hit the ground.

Gently picking her up, he carried her into the shelter of the trees, Cadeyrn following obediently.

Once assured they were safely hidden from anyone travelling the path, he found a small clearing and laid the woman down on the ground.

He touched her cheek lightly with his fingers and gently brushed her hair back from her face.

She was a beauty. Dark auburn hair and before she’d fainted, light amber eyes had looked at him with familiarity.

Why had she called him grey eyes? His eyes were grey, it was true, but she’d stared at him as if they’d met before and she was shocked to see him again.

He didn't know what to do, or how to wake her, so he settled down next to her and waited. It gave him the opportunity to study her unabashedly. Her clothing was unusual for a woman, exposing so much skin. The scant piece of clothing covering her breasts left little to the imagination and the gap between it and her breeches displayed soft, womanly curves. He wanted very much to touch her, to see for himself just how soft her skin was, but he forced his mind away from those thoughts. Mayhap the man had taken her clothes. He’d be sure to ask her when she woke.

Until then he was happy to sit back, gaze at her, and wait for her to awaken.