Page 39 of Highlander’s Heart

“A Scot,” one man said quietly to another.

Ian raised his chin.

They looked him over and laughed. “It’s a big demand coming from someone standing naked and dripping water.”

“I dinna want trouble, man,” Ian said. “Just let my horse go and be on yer way.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ian Cambel.”

“Dundail?”

“Aye.”

They exchanged amused glances. “Well, Ian Cambel of Dundail, since your estate is the next one King Edward’s coming for, we’ll spread the burden and relieve you of your horse now.”

He could launch himself at them. He could take the dagger from the belt of the man standing by Thor. It would only take a moment to pierce the Englishman under his chin, then slice the second man’s neck before he knew what hit him, hop onto Thor and gallop away.

He clenched his jaw so tightly, he thought he’d crush his teeth. Everything darkened and sharpened at the same time.

No.

He’d promised himself.

No life will be taken by my hands again.

The English chuckled. The man on the ground tied Thor’s reins to his horse’s saddle and climbed up.

“That’s right, Scot, not a word. And be thankful I’m not taking your balls together with your horse. They aren’t worth much anyway.”

He spat and they continued on their way, slowly, as though they were already victors.

Ian shook. From cold, from helpless fury, and from the images of dozens of bodies lying in pools of blood on the Baghdad palace’s dusty courtyard.

The peacefulness of being in the loch was gone, as though blown away by the wind. His chest tightened, and his stomach churned.

He refused to fight again. He refused to take another life.

But what would he do once the English showed up in Dundail? Could he stand by and let them harm the villagers who relied on him? And what of Kate? What would they do to the sweet lass who couldn’t even remember where she came from but still managed to somehow warm his cold stone of a heart?

That thought chilled him more than the cold loch waters. He pulled on his clothes, then turned and ran towards home.

Chapter 14

Kate stared at the sloped ceiling of the garret. Although she hadn’t remembered anything new the whole day, after Ian had left, something had lurked at the back of her mind. Like a shadow she’d seen a thousand times but couldn’t recognize.

She held on to the vision of the kitchen, turning it in her mind over and over. She looked for more details of the furniture, her mom’s face and voice, her clothes.

Nothing.

She turned to her sister and concentrated on remembering the color of her eyes—blue. The shape of her face—oval. Her nose—pointy. Her Mickey Mouse T-shirt was faded, and the seams had holes in them. Her hair was done in two messy ponytails, one on top of her head, the other hanging low by her neck.

The expression on her sister’s face was mournful. She was afraid and—

New visions invaded her mind, so overwhelming all she could do was watch. Kate’s breath was taken away, her heart pounding.

Kate was older now, probably eighteen. In black clothes, Kate opened the door to her and Mandy’s shared bedroom.