Page 11 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

E vie paced the length of the bedchamber with a pent-up nervous energy. When she slammed the door behind her, she hoped Callum would follow her, offer his apologies and give her the stone. Then she’d return home and find Chloe.

He, however, did no such thing.

She took to looking through every nook and cranny in the bedchamber in the hopes he had hidden the stone somewhere within the room. She ran her hands under the feather mattress but found nothing. She looked under the bed. She looked under the pillows. She threw all the blankets off the bed.

When all that failed to produce the stone, she turned her attention to the chest at the foot of the bed. Opening it, she pawed through the linens, tossing them out as she searched. She found nothing. She left a mess of cloth in her wake.

Standing, she bit her thumbnail as she paced the length of the room.

She came up empty-handed, which meant Callum must have kept the stone.

He had it on his person. She had to figure out a way to get that stone from him to return home and make sure Chloe was all right. She didn’t trust Bruce one iota.

A light knock sounded on the door.

She halted her rabid pacing and stared at it, her heart leaping to her throat. She doubted Callum would knock on his own door. Likely he would barge in.

“Come in,” she finally said.

The door creaked open. Roslyn popped her head in. Relief to see the woman flickered through her and she waved her inside.

“I came to see about ye.” She closed the door behind her. She eyed the pile of linens on the floor surrounding the chest. Evie flushed hot. “What happened here?”

“I, uh, was looking for something,” Evie said, floundering for an explanation.

“Did ye find it then, lass?”

“No.”

Roslyn picked up the discarded blankets and pillows and started making up the bed while Evie folded one of Callum’s tunics. It gave her pause. The man was broad-shouldered. She smoothed her hand over the linen.

“This is his.” It was an obvious statement, she realized.

“Aye, it is.” Roslyn fluffed the pillows. “What were ye looking for?”

“Oh, nothing.” Evie placed the tunic inside the chest, the final piece, and closed it.

It seemed silly to try to explain. She didn’t know how much the woman knew. What if she knew nothing? Then she would sound like a lunatic. The last thing she needed was to be locked away and branded a crazy person. She needed to find a way out of this situation and fast.

“Och, this room is freezing.” Roslyn set about building a fire in the hearth, placing the wood on the log holder.

Standing still, Evie realized she was right.

A chill had set in and she hadn’t even realized it, likely because of her frenzied search for the stone.

Now that she was standing still, she gripped her elbows and tried not to shiver.

She glanced at the oversized bed piled with pillows and the thick quilt and resisted the urge to climb underneath and pull the covers to her chin.

Perhaps if she did, she’d fall asleep and wake up to find this was nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

When Roslyn finished building the fire and the flames were bright and hot, she rose and surveyed the room.

“There. That’s better. Now, lass, tell me true. How are ye?”

Evie shrugged. “I don’t know how I should be feeling about anything.”

Understanding flashed over her face. “Ye’ve had a bit of a shock.”

“That’s an understatement,” she muttered.

Roslyn continued to peer at her as she moved to the side of the bed and perched on the edge. She patted the bed next to her.

“Come tell me, lass, what yer doing here and who ye really are.”

Her eyes flew wide with surprise as she looked at the woman. “What do you mean?”

“Och, do ye think me daft. I ken ye are of the English, even if Callum and his da dinnae want to admit it.”

“I don’t mean any harm,” she said by way of explanation.

She walked to the bed and sat next to the woman who seemed to want to comfort her even if she was an English stranger. For all she knew, England and Scotland were already at war with each other. She wasn’t great with remembering history. Chloe was the history major.

“I dinnae want to see him hurt,” Roslyn said, warning in her tone.

“Nor I. But you are right. I’m not from here. I’m—” She cut herself off from telling the woman she was from the future. “I’m not sure what to do now that I’m here.”

Roslyn reached for her and grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Dinnae fash. All will be well.”

Hot tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about leaving Chloe behind.

Her sister was over six hundred years in the future.

If Callum wouldn’t allow her to use the stone to return home, then she was stuck here and she would never see her again.

It cut her deep to the core, especially after they had reunited after a long separation.

“What is it, lass?” She wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight, distress on her face.

She sniffed, trying to keep the tears from falling but it was impossible. “My…sister…” She gulped in a breath.

Roslyn slid an arm around her shoulders, giving her the comfort she needed. She gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Where is yer sister?”

Evie was uncertain how much Roslyn knew about her situation. She didn’t know if Callum had shared any information with her, so she erred on the side of caution.

“It’s that I miss her so much,” Evie said. “We were recently reunited and when I ended up here…” She paused, uncertain.

The older woman’s brows drew together in question. “What happened to ye?”

She sniffed back her tears, whisking them away, and took a deep breath. “It’s a long story. Where is Callum?”

“I dinnae ken. Shall I fetch him for ye?”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.”

She thought of the big, broad Scotsman. The first time she woke and discovered she was in a strange bed was disconcerting.

The second she woke up and realized she was snuggled against him was pleasant.

Thinking of it now sent a warming sensation through her.

He had stroked her hair to keep her calm.

No one had ever done that before. Or held her so close as if she were this precious thing that was dear to him.

She’d had boyfriends and lovers, sure. But none were…Callum, and she knew so little about him.

“What can you tell me about Callum?”

“Och, he’s a good lad, to be sure. He’ll be laird someday. He’s kind and looks after his brothers. Fiercely loyal and protective of the ones he loves. Honest. Valiant.”

Her tone suggested she’d known him for a long time and that she was proud of him and the man he was. Something about that made Evie’s heart pound hard and fast.

His brothers, she knew, were Malcolm and Jamie. She had yet to meet Jamie but knew there was something about his shameful behavior Roslyn wasn’t willing to share with her. As if she thought it might be gossip.

“He seems like a good man,” she said. “As does Malcolm.”

“Och, Malcolm is a rogue at best. He’s had his fair share of bonnie lasses. And, Jamie, well, he’s no much better. I do my best to keep the lads in line. Their sister passed on several years back. And their mam…well, she died when wee Jamie was born. All that’s left are the lads and their da.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

She, herself, had lost her parents when she was a teen, so she understood the loss of a parent well. Even when Brianna came to care for them, she and Chloe had clung to each other, forming an unbreakable bond. It was why it hurt so much to lose her again, albeit under strange circumstances.

“He dinnae say how you came to be here with us, though,” the woman said, giving her a sideways glance.

She sensed Roslyn was as curious about her as she was about them. She understood. There were many unanswered questions. Like if the stone could take her back home. Why she was here. Evie bit the inside of her lip, wondering how to reply. She decided to tell her as much of the truth as possible.

“I come from far away. I was…being chased by a man who wanted something from me.” She glanced down at her hand in her lap to see the fading lines of the stone still on her palm. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I ended up here. All I know is I woke up in this bed.”

And recalling that once again made her cheeks warm.

“Because Callum saved ye from him, didn’t he?” She grinned, her eyes glinting with pride for the man. “I’ve known him his entire life. As I said, he’s a good lad. He’ll take good care of ye now that ye’re in his keep. Ye’ll see.”

Evie believed her. Even when she sat at the table with the three of them, she didn’t have any ill feelings. Not like she did when she met Bruce MacDonald. There was something about Callum, his father, and his brother that gave her comfort. And something about Bruce that made her leery of him.

“’Tis getting late. Ye’ll want to get some rest. Let me fetch ye a nightgown.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary—”

When Roslyn gave her the side eye, Evie complied. “All right.”

The woman excused herself from the chamber and returned a moment later with a white garment draped across her forearm.

“This was Abigail’s,” she said. When Evie’s brows drew together in question, she said, “His sister.”

She had to admit, she was uncomfortable wearing something of his dead sister’s, but Roslyn seemed to think nothing of it. She helped her undress and slip the long night gown over her head. Once she was dressed for bed, Roslyn folded the gown over her arm.

“I’ll hem this up for ye.”

Evie slipped into the bed, pulling the blankets up and over her. As she sat there, she watched the woman walk to the door.

“Roslyn?” She paused, turned back to her. “Thank you.”

She gave her a small grin. “Yer welcome. G’night, lass.”

And then she was gone.