Page 73 of Highlander’s Bride

Two weeks later…

Bryanna held her new passport in her hands, looking at her photo and not recognizing herself.

Not because she’d been thinner and had darker circles under her eyes when the photo was taken, right after she’d been discharged from Dr. Mackinnon Memorial Hospital.

But because the woman in the photo was not her.

That woman, as sickly and skinny as she looked, was happy. There was that sparkle in her eyes, the almost feverish excitement…and love. She’d just gone through the worst and the best time of her life at once. She’d just died and come back to life.

Yes, she was different. Before Raghnall and after Raghnall. Before death and after death.

Perhaps part of her had died the moment her head hit that rock. And as Raghnall had carried her through the threshold of time, perhaps the old Bryanna had never crossed that invisible border. Perhaps when she’d opened her eyes in that hospital, it was the new her.

A shadow appeared behind Bryanna’s shoulder. “Oh, honey, thank God you don’t look that thin anymore,” her mom said.

Bryanna paused just for a moment. The old her wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t want to contradict her mom or make her mom’s life any more complicated by starting an argument.

But now, she said, “I actually think I look happy.”

A car passed, rattling loudly over the cobblestoned Regent Terrace, the street the American embassy was on in Edinburgh. The street was quiet, a long row of light-brown, three-story Georgian houses ran opposite a thin strip of trees, bushes, and vegetation that separated the small street from a busier road.

Mom cast a shadow on Bryanna’s passport, shielding the rare autumn sunrays as she moved to stand in front of her. “You look delusional, that’s how you look.”

There it was again, Mom’s voice loaded with guilt and hurt, with one goal—to make Bryanna understand how wrong she was and to convince her to never be so reckless with her health again. And Raghnall was the very representation of that recklessness.

“Mom, come on,” said Kris. “She knows she was wrong. She told us.”

Yes, Bryanna had apologized, and she really was sorry for making her family so worried, only this wasn’t exactly fair.

Mom sighed and shook her head, her short, strawberry-blond curls moving. “Let’s go back to the hotel. I’ll call the airline and ask if they can put us on the next available flight. Now that you have your passport, we can finally leave.” She adjusted the edge of the black turtleneck showing under her padded navy jacket. “I can’t wait to get home where I can keep an eye on you. No disappearances there, miss. And I’m so glad that husband of yours left you.”

Kris gasped, her mouth making a perfect, peach-tinted circle. “Mom! Now that is mean.”

It was mean, and it did hurt. But maybe it was the pain Bryanna needed to stand up for herself and finally tell the whole truth.

“You know what, Mom?” Bryanna said, pushing her passport into her new purse—bright purple again because the color reminded her of her adventure. “You think you know me so well?”

“Of course I know you well.”

“Well, did you know that I have psychic dreams?”

Mom frowned.

“Yeah,” Bryanna kept on, “I dreamed of Dad’s death. I dreamed of the teaching job opening. And I dreamed of Raghnall.”

“You dreamed about Dad’s death?” asked Kris, tears in her eyes.

Bryanna met her sister’s gaze, tears welling in her own eyes. “I did. But because I was afraid everyone would think I was insane, I never said anything. I could have told him to go to the doctor that day and get his blood pressure checked. But I was too much of a coward.”

Mom shook her head, also tearing up. “That doesn’t mean anything, hon. Dreams are just dreams. We dream all kinds of crazy things…”

“I saw how it would happen, Mom. What he wore. What he did. Every little detail happened just like I saw it.”

Mom took a step back, hurt and confusion on her face.

“And I saw my own death in Eilean Donan. How Raghnall would carry me out of the castle, unmoving and unconscious. And that was exactly how it happened.”

Mom’s fingers shot to her mouth. “Oh dear God…”