Page 29 of Wild Highland Rose (Time After Time #4)

" A ll right then, I'll just have to swim for both of us."

Marjory's eyes widened for an instant, but she didn't say anything.

Water sloshed around their legs. The boat was sinking fast. Cameron looked down at his plaid.

There simply wasn't time to remove it. He'd just have to drag its sodden weight along with them.

He released the pin at his shoulder and secured the loose end around his waist. At least that would leave his arm free.

The wind immediately bit through his shirt. He shivered with cold and anticipation.

"Wait. My sporran." Marjory reached for the soggy mass of wool that had been her skirt.

"Forget it, Marjory, there isn't time." The boat rocked violently, throwing Marjory against him. His arm went around her as he fought for balance, gripping the side of the curach with his free hand. The boat steadied. Marjory bent down again, frantically searching for the pouch.

"My sgian dubh . I canna lose it. 'Tis in the sporran."

Cameron reached past her, grabbing the wet wool. With a shake, the sporran fell free, and Marjory quickly secured it around her waist.

Cameron grabbed her hands and bent close so that he could be heard over the howling wind.

"Here's what we're going to do. We're going to stand up on the seat, and when I count to three, we're going to take a deep breath and jump over the side into the water.

" She swallowed and bit her lower lip. "You'll be all right.

I'm going to hold your hand." He lifted their joined left hands to demonstrate.

"Whatever you do, don't let go. All right? "

She nodded and squeezed. He helped her onto the bench. The boat tipped drunkenly and then righted itself. He pushed his rain-soaked hair out of his face and stepped up onto the seat. The boat lurched.

"One…two…" He met Marjory's gaze and tightened his grip on her hand. "Three."

The murky water closed over their heads.

The noise from the storm was momentarily blocked and the silence was almost peaceful.

The cold invaded his body, wrapping around him like a vise.

With a conscious effort, he forced his body to move, kicking furiously as he pulled them back to the surface.

Marjory was dead weight and it took all of his strength to pull her with him.

His head broke the surface only to be pounded with rain.

He gasped for breath. Marjory surfaced beside him, coughing and sputtering.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, treading water to keep them afloat.

"You okay?" She jerked her head in answer, her eyes wild with fear.

"I'm going to put my arm around your neck.

" He was yelling so that he could be heard.

"Try not to fight me. Just let yourself float.

Breathe through your nose and keep your mouth closed.

" She nodded. He leaned closer and kissed her quickly on the lips. "Here we go."

Shifting his arm so that it circled her neck, he struck out for the shore.

The icy water sapped his strength. He knew time was running out.

They had to make the shore. He looked down at Marjory.

She was sputtering, but otherwise okay. He kicked furiously, trying to make headway in the churning water.

Time passed slowly. It seemed that he had been swimming forever. His legs were numb. He could only hope that he was actually still kicking. Marjory had closed her eyes. He prayed that she was still breathing. He was afraid if he stopped to check, he would never be able to start again.

His arm moved through the water like an automaton, pushing the cold, dark water out of the way. Stroke, stroke, stroke…his brain sang a litany. Somewhere deep inside his mind, he heard another refrain. Whoosh beep beep…whoosh beep beep .

No . His mind fought against the sound. Not now. He had to get Marjory safely to shore.

His knee scraped against something. He jerked back to full consciousness.

A rock. He'd bumped a rock. They'd reached the shore.

Swinging Marjory into both arms, he willed his legs to function.

His weary limbs struggled to obey his brain's command.

Red-hot pain jolted up through his feet, racing along the nerve endings in his legs.

His knees buckled and he almost fell, but sheer will power won out and he staggered through the shallow water onto the pebble strewn beach.

He gently lowered Marjory to the ground.

Her lips were blue and her hands were icy, but her pulse was strong.

He removed his waterlogged plaid and after wringing it out, laid it on the ground.

Carefully lifting her shoulders, he slid her onto the cloth.

It wasn't the best of protection, but it was all he had to offer.

The wind whipped around him and he shivered violently, dropping down wearily beside her, sleep threatening.

He fought against it, knowing that if he lost consciousness he might not wake up again.

Reaching for the loose end of the plaid, he wrapped it around them.

It was wet, but at least it provided some protection against the wind and their shared body heat would help to warm them.

The rain had stopped and a single star peeked from behind a cloud. Somewhere, in the heart of the storm, afternoon had melted into evening. He closed his eyes. He'd just rest for a minute. Then he'd figure out what they should do.

Marjory lay in the dark cocoon of her bed, wondering why it was so wet.

She twisted, trying to find a warmer, dryer spot, then opened her eyes to a sky full of stars.

She frowned, confused now. There were no stars in her bed chamber.

Memory flashed, vanquishing her lethargy.

The curach…the water… Ewen . She tried to sit up, but something held her down.

Panicked, she tried to pull her arms free, but couldn't. She struggled, but to no avail.

Something heavy was definitely pinning her down, and to make things worse, she seemed to be encased in a length of wet wool.

It scratched her arms and held them immobile.

She tried to calm herself by breathing deeply, in and out…

in and out, but even her breathing seemed constricted.

The object on top of her shifted. An awful noise filled the air.

Marjory closed her eyes, waiting for something terrible to happen.

Silence. She opened one eye, nothing, only the placid glow of the stars.

She opened her other eye. Still silence.

Determined to free herself, Marjory wriggled to the side as much as she could.

By twisting her head to the left, and looking to the right, she could just make out locks of hair falling across her shoulder.

Tawny locks of hair, attached, no doubt, to a familiar head.

The noise repeated itself, but this time she identified the rumbling for what it was: Ewen snoring. Relief brought a flash of anger.

"Get off of me at once." Nothing happened. Another deafening snore filled the air. "I said, get off of me, man. Do I look like a bed to you?" He snorted, but remained prone across her. Drawing in as much air as she could, she screamed at him. "Ewen, wake up!"

The minute she used his name she regretted the fact. If he were to be believed it wasn't his name at all. Cameron, he'd said. Cameron was his name. An odious name to be sure, yet oddly fitting. And suddenly she wondered if there wasn't something good about the name after all.

"Marjory?" He shifted his weight, his voice groggy.

"You're crushing the life out o' me. I canna move. Get off."

With a groan, he rolled off of her. Unfortunately, the wool cocoon kept them bound together and Marjory flipped over to land on top of him, sliding forward so that blue eyes met gold, his breath mingling with hers.

Despite the situation, she felt her heartbeat accelerate at the feel of his body beneath hers.

He blinked. "Where are we?"

"You read my mind. I was going to ask you the same question." His heat invaded her, lighting a fire somewhere below her belly. Whoever he was, he had an effect on her like no other. Forcing herself to ignore her burgeoning feelings, she concentrated instead on his face.

His eyes narrowed and then widened as he came fully awake. With a jerk, he pulled an arm free. Fumbling with the plaid, he managed to untangle it so that one side flapped free.

"You can move now."

The significance of his words were slow to sink in.

When the full impact hit her, she felt herself grow hot.

He always seemed to rob her of her sanity.

She rolled off of him, shivering in the cool of the night air.

The loch's water lapped at the shore, almost at their feet.

The small clearing was lit faintly by starlight, but it was difficult to make out details.

When she was sure she had her feelings under control, she turned back to him. "The curach?"

"Gone, I'm afraid."

"How did we get here, then?" She chewed on her lip, still very aware of his body close to hers.

"Don't you remember?"

Irritation flashed. "If I remembered then I wouldna be asking you, would I?

" She immediately regretted her words. "I didna mean to sound so harsh.

I remember jumping into the water." The memory of the icy darkness closing over her was something she'd never forget.

"I also remember you pulling me to the surface, but after that, I'm afraid 'tis a blank. "

"Join the club." He offered her a wry smile.

"Join the what? I dinna fash?" She frowned. How in the world could a body join a weapon?

"Well, that makes two of us."

"I beg your pardon?" The man was talking in riddles. Maybe this last ordeal had robbed him of his sanity once and for all.

He grinned. "I only meant that if you can't remember what happened, you're in the same boat as me when it comes to amnesia."