Call of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 8)
Call of a Highlander
Katy Baker
Published by Katy Baker, 2019.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
CALL OF A HIGHLANDER
First edition. January 12, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 Katy Baker.
Written by Katy Baker.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Call of a Highlander
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
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Chapter 1
The coffee shop was busy this morning. As Bethany Carter worked feverishly at the coffee machine, making the usual latte for Mr Penrose, she wiped her sweaty brow with a handkerchief and drew a deep breath. What else did she expect for a Monday morning in rainy Edinburgh? Everyone was eager for their morning pick-me-up before the start of a long working week and Beth didn’t blame them. She could do with one herself.
Beth poured the drink into a tall glass before placing it on a tray and pushing it across the counter to Mr Penrose.
“There you go,” she said, smiling. “A bit of energy before your meeting. Today’s the day, isn’t it?”
Mr Penrose grinned. In his sixties, he had a booming laugh that belied his slight frame, and a fringe of white hair around his head. He’d been coming into the coffee shop for as long as Beth had been working there.
“It certainly is, lassie!” he said. “Those idiots in HR willnae know what’s hit them when I present my counter-proposal!”
Beth laughed. “I don’t doubt it. Good luck, Mr Penrose.”
“Ye have my thanks, lass. Without yer sage advice I never would have gotten this far.”
“Oh, I only pointed you in the right direction. And you did see a proper lawyer like we discussed?”
Mr Penrose was at logger-heads with his employers who were trying to get rid of him as he was getting on a bit and was a little slower than he used to be. When he’d mentioned this to Beth, she’d been outraged and been unable to stop herself giving him some free legal advice. She couldn’t just stand by and see Mr Penrose bullied by a big corporation could she? And besides, what else was she supposed to do with her law degree? But she’d insisted he see a registered lawyer as well.
Mr Penrose nodded. “Of course. I’ll pop in tomorrow and let ye know how it went.” He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and swept out.
The line was getting longer and Beth, along with her three colleagues, were kept busy for a good hour serving cappuccinos and lattes, Americanos and espressos, until finally there was a lull and Beth leaned back on the counter to take a breather. She glanced at the clock on the wall and a thrill of trepidation ran through her. It was 9.00 am.
“Mind if I take a quick break?” she said to Callie, her supervisor.
Callie, a petite blonde with her hair tied back in a plait, looked up from where she was wiping down the counter. She glanced at her watch and then at Beth with a look of sympathy on her face.
“Nine o’clock on the dot as always. If they hadn’t responded by close of play last night, I doubt they would have this early. Maybe wait a while?”
Beth shook her head, nerves wriggling in her belly. It was all she could do not to bite her nails. “I can’t. The wait is killing me! It’s been three weeks already. They said I’d hear in two.” She hated the desperation in her voice but couldn’t control it. She was getting desperate. This application was practically her last chance. If they didn’t accept her...
“Sure,” Callie said with a smile. “And, honey? Good luck.”
Beth smiled at her friend then hurried into the office. Seating herself in the swivel chair, she turned on the PC and logged in. Her stomach did somersaults as she waited for her email to load. Chewing her thumbnail, she scanned her inbox and her heart skipped a beat as she saw a message from MacArthur and Sons Solicitors sitting there.
Oh god! This was it! With trembling fingers she clicked on the email and opened it, the nerves turning to excitement. They’d finally replied! They would accept her! They would!
But as her eyes scanned the email, the excitement turned to ashes. We regret to inform you that after careful consideration we are unable to offer you an internship at MacArthur and Sons. We wish you the very best in your future endeavors.
Beth read the words again. And then a third time, willing them to change, to become the words she’d been longing to hear. But they didn’t. She leaned back in the chair, staring at the screen and the ruin of her dreams.
It was over. MacArthur and Sons had been her last hope of an internship. Having come to Edinburgh from the US four years ago on a student visa and then graduating with a degree in Law and Criminology, Beth needed to find an internship with a company willing to sponsor her working visa if she was ever to fulfil her dream of becoming a human rights lawyer. If she didn’t find such an internship her student visa would expire in a month’s time and she’d have no choice but to leave the city that had become her home, the city that had offered her the shelter and the fresh start she’d so badly needed.
Beth felt tears gathering in her eyes and dashed them away mercilessly. No. She would not give in! There were at least two other firms she’d yet to try. She wasn’t beaten yet! She would become a human rights lawyer if it was the last thing she ever did, dammit!
She logged out, pushed to her feet, and straightened her hair and uniform before making her way into the shop. Callie looked up with a question in her eyes but Beth ignored her friend’s enquiry. She couldn’t face it yet. Instead, she grabbed a cloth and went about wiping down tables and gathering up dirty cups and plates.
What had she done wrong? The interview had gone well and they’d seemed impressed by her academic record. Damn it, damn it, damn it! What the hell would she do now?
She was so preoccupied that she took no notice of the occupant at the table she was wiping until a voice said, “My, ye will wear a hole in that if ye aren’t careful, lass.”
Beth blinked and looked up to see an old woman seated at the table. She seemed incredibly old, with iron gray hair pulled back in a bun and a nest of wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her age-spotted hands were clasped on the table in front of her but the gaze she fixed on Beth burned with a fierce intelligence.
“Oh! Sorry,” Beth said. “I was miles away.”
“Aye, I can see that,” the woman replied. “Ye look as though ye have the weight of the world on yer shoulders.”
The woman’s gaze was piercing and her eyes, Beth noticed, were so dark as to be almost black. The iris and pupil melded into one, making them seem like chips of obsidian. Beth shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.
“I...um...you haven’t got a d
rink. Can I get you a coffee?”
The woman waved a dismissive hand. “Coffee? Foul stuff for heathens! I’ll have a cup of yer finest tea, my dear, and perhaps a slice of cake to go with it.”
Beth smiled. “Tea and cake it is. Coming right up.”
She returned a moment later carrying a tray loaded with a teapot and a slice of Victoria Sponge—her favorite. She placed it on the table before the old woman.
“Enjoy.”
The old woman smiled up at her. “I’m sure I will, lass. I reckon it’s just what I need.”
She stared up at Beth, unblinking. The old woman’s gaze seemed to pierce her to the bone and a sudden shiver of unease walked down Beth’s spine. The old woman suddenly held out a hand.
“I’m Irene, my dear. Irene MacAskill.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you. I’m Beth. Bethany Carter.” She reached out and shook the old woman’s hand.
As her fingers touched the warm, papery skin, Beth suddenly staggered. Dizziness washed through her and for a second her vision wavered. The coffee shop disappeared and she saw mist-wreathed mountains and sparkling lochs. A man was walking towards her. She couldn’t see his face but she knew him, knew him better than she knew herself...
Her vision cleared and she was suddenly back in the coffee shop again. She steadied herself on the back of a chair.
“I’m...I’m...sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Irene MacAskill patted her hand gently. “It takes some people like that sometimes, my dear.”
Beth looked at her quizzically. “What does?”
“Destiny. It can be a wrench when ye confront it for the first time. As ye just did. But it canna be avoided, whether we wish it or no. Yers is coming for ye, Bethany Carter. It will soon find ye and then ye will have a choice to make. Will ye confront it? Or will ye run?”
The back of Bethany’s neck prickled. She pulled her hand from Irene’s grasp. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I think ye know,” the old woman replied. “Ye are running, my dear. Running from the past, thinking that if ye can only become a lawyer ye can somehow fix the wrongs that were done to ye. But it doesnae work that way. Ye canna find happiness by running from yer past: only by running towards yer future. Are ye ready to do that, Bethany Carter? Are ye ready to find yer true path?”
Those dark eyes of hers seemed to bore into Beth’s soul. A little freaked out now, she took a step back.
“Who are you? What do you want with me?”
Irene smiled, a kindly expression creasing her face. “Only what ye want for yerself, lass. For ye to find yer place in the world and in so doing, help me to save a life. A precious life although many wouldnae think so. If that life is snuffed out, the balance will be thrown out of kilter. Only ye can do what needs to be done.”
“Me?” Beth said with a snort. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“Have I? Are ye sure about that? Dinna ye want to right the wrongs of the world? Isnae that why ye are so set on becoming a lawyer?”
“I...um...yes,” Beth stammered. How the hell did this woman know so much about her? She was officially creeped out. “Look. I have to get back to work. Enjoy the tea.”
She began to walk off but Irene’s hand shot out and gripped her hand. The woman’s fingers were as cold and hard as iron. After a moment she released her grip and Beth realized she’d deposited a piece of paper in Beth’s hand.
“What’s this?”
Irene smiled. “That is for ye to find out—if ye so choose. If ye truly wish to right a wrong and mayhap find yer true path into the bargain, ye may wish to take a look.”
Irene MacAskill climbed to her feet. She was so short the top of her head barely reached Beth’s shoulder. The old woman squeezed Beth’s arm. “Until we meet again, my dear.”
Without another word, Irene walked to the door, her tea and cake untouched on the table. Beth stared after her long after she’d disappeared.
“You okay?” Callie asked as Beth shuffled behind the counter. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” Beth replied. “Just a little tired.”
She stuffed the piece of paper Irene had given her into a pocket and busied herself making a couple of espressos for two businessmen in sharp suits. After that it was a cappuccino and latte for a young couple then a mocha for a guy in running gear. She tried to lose herself in the monotony of the work but Irene’s words had unsettled her. Who was she? And why had she said those things? How was Beth suppose to right a wrong she didn’t even know about? The incident had left her feeling edgy and unsettled, particularly coming so quickly after her rejection by MacArthur and Sons.
She placed two drinks on a tray and pushed it across the counter towards a middle-aged couple standing there.
The woman frowned. “Sorry, I asked for two espressos.”
Beth startled. “You did? Oh, of course you did. Sorry. One moment.”
She wiped at her forehead and began making the espressos. Damn it! She couldn’t seem to concentrate at all. Get a grip! she told herself fiercely. The last thing she needed was to make a mess of this job. Then where would she be?
But as she went to put the espressos onto the tray her hands suddenly slipped. The tray tipped and the cups went crashing to the floor with the splinter of breaking crockery, splashing hot coffee over the floor and the bottom of Beth’s pants.
“Oh! Sorry!” Beth cried. She knelt to clear it up but Callie stepped smoothly in front of her.
“I’ll sort it. Why don’t you take a minute?”
Beth looked into the concerned eyes of her friend and sagged. She suddenly felt exhausted. “Okay. Thanks.”
Leaving the couple in Callie’s capable hands, Beth all but fled into the back room and perched on the desk. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she tried to calm her thumping heart. Today was not going well. Maybe she should rewind and not bother getting out of bed this morning. That way perhaps she’d still have some hope of a future. Maybe that way she’d not feel so wrung out and wretched as she did right now.
You’re just stressed, she told herself. You need rest.
Do I? she thought. Or do I need something else entirely?
She paused suddenly. Irene MacAskill’s words played in her head. Right a wrong. Find yer true path. Beth couldn’t seem to get them out of her mind. On impulse she pulled the bit of paper Irene had given her from her pocket and smoothed it out. It was a flyer for a guest house a few miles outside the city. She frowned at it. Why had Irene given her this?
The guesthouse looked quaint and comfortable and a million miles away from Beth’s problems. She was suddenly caught with a longing to see the place. Irene might be a crazy old crackpot but she’d made Beth realize one thing: she needed a break.
Callie opened the door, crossed to the desk and perched next to Beth.
“You want to talk about it?”
Beth sighed. “Sorry about just now. I shouldn’t have got that order wrong or dropped the coffee.”
“Stuff the coffee! I’m talking about you! You’ve been out of sorts since you went to check your email. What’s wrong?”
Beth took a deep breath and looked at her friend. “I heard back. They rejected me.”
“Ah, shit. I’m sorry. But you’ll find another company, right?”
“Sure,” Beth lied. “There are loads of law firms I haven’t tried yet.”
“And until one of them snaps you up we’ve got plenty of shifts here to keep you going. I swear we get busier by the day. The people of Edinburgh must have their coffee!”
“Actually, I was hoping for some time off,” Beth said holding up the flyer. “Do you fancy it? This weekend? We could have a girly weekend away!”
Callie shook her head. “Sounds fab but I can’t. I’m on rota all weekend and I think Adrian will kill me if I ask to change shift again—you know how he gets.”
“Okay,” Beth said, waving a hand. “Never mind. It was on
ly an idea.”
“You should go though,” Callie said. “You’ve earned it. When was the last time you had some time off? Ever?”
Beth thought about it. She’d been on a few trips during her various training placements but that had been for study rather than leisure. “You’re right. I am going to go. A few days of breakfast in bed and wandering round tourist sites will do me good.”
Callie grinned. “That’s more like it. Now let’s get out there. If Mrs Monroe doesn’t get her frappe and croissant soon I reckon she’ll scream the place down.”
Beth nodded, her expression mock-serious. “Ah, it’s an emergency then. Come on!”
Chapter 2
Camdan MacAuley’s lungs burned with exertion and the muscles in his thighs and calves ached with weariness but he didn’t stop. He had no idea how long he’d been running, hours maybe. Around him the autumn woodland showed its splendor in a riot of red and gold under an unseasonably blue sky. Cam barely noticed. His booted feet kicked up clods of sodden leaves and left footprints in the soft earth of the Highland soil. He ran rhythmically, mechanically, his long stride eating up the miles, the clear air and physical exertion gradually settling his thoughts in a way few things could these days.
Cam jumped a stream, came down easily on the other side, and then powered up the rise beyond without breaking stride. He sprinted to the top of the hill, sending a flock of grouse winging into the air, then skidded to a halt and looked down on the scene below.
In the distance he could see smoke rising from the settlement of Cannoch. Sitting at the convergence of two major rivers, it was a prosperous settlement and had been Cam’s home for the last month—the longest he’d stayed in one place for a long time. He’d taken employment as a merchant’s guard: steady, easy work with decent pay and the promise of a warm bed. Much better than what Cam was used to these days.
He shielded his eyes from the sun and gazed out over the settlement, feeling an unexpected pang of longing. It had been good to feel grounded again. To stay in one place more than a few days and to begin to get to know it and its people. It was the nearest he would ever get to the clan life he’d lost, even if it was only for a few weeks.