Callan sighed, a rueful smile playing on his lips. “I suppose the timing wasn’t quite right.”
His lass was breathing heavily as he extended his arm, an unspoken offer to return to the lights and noise of the Faire. “Shall we?”
Daisy nodded, slipping her arm through his. “Let’s go back. I need to pick up Frankie. He was playing with a lab he knows from the dog park.” She turned to him. “I need some time to process what you told me. Then we’ll talk about this. All of it.”
They had almost kissed.Twice. Daisy pressed her hands to her cheeks, hoping they weren’t as flushed as they felt.
For the first time in her life, she was trying to take things slowly, not to cling, and to get to know Callan before falling head over heels. Though to be honest, she knew she’d fallen for him that first day in the park, when she hit him in the head with her frisbee.
Tonight changed everything, and she knew that whatever came next, it wouldn’t be simple. But as she glanced at Callan, she felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the best stories really did start with the most unbelievable beginnings.
No one had ever offered his arm to her, like some kind of old-fashioned movie star, but Callan did. The guy opened doors for her, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm when they were walking around, and always asked after her needs.
Now that he had his own money, he insisted on paying when they were together, so of course, she texted Zara and let her friend know. While Callan was still staying with her rent-free, Daisy decided that didn’t count, and she really liked having him around so they could spend all their time together.
Music carried through the air as they walked, arm in arm, making their way through the crowds back towards the heart of the Faire. The atmosphere was joyous, with attendees dressed in period costumes, laughing, dancing, and partaking in the merriment. The scent of roasted meats and kettle corn filled the air, blending with the smoky tang of firewood.
A time traveler.
She glanced at him as he spoke to a guy he’d been helping perfect his swordplay. It was an outrageous story, and yet…
Red flags should have landed all around her, yet Daisy yearned to believe him. The thought of traveling through time was exciting. But seriously? Time travel wasn’t real, heroes didn’t exist, and the bad guys were just as likely to win the day, no matter that the science fiction and romance books proclaimed otherwise. Fiction wasn’t real life.
They approached a bustling tavern set up in the center of the Faire, where patrons gathered around wooden tables, their voices loud and cheerful though Callan was tense. She felt it in the muscles of his arm as they’d walked together.
Sensing his mood, she squeezed his arm reassuringly.
“You know,” she began, her tone light, “I never imagined I’d be at a Faire with a real medieval Scotsman.”
He turned to her, hope in his eyes. “Do ye believe me then, lass?”
No way was she lying to him, but careful not to hurt his feelings, she said gently, “I’m not sure. It’s such a fantastical story that I feel like it has to be true.”
She bit her lip, frowning. “But no one has time-traveled, and if it had been discovered, it would be all over the news.”
Then she added to herself, “think of all the damage someone could do with that kind of power.” She leaned against him. “Will you tell me more about your time? How it felt to travel through time?”
He nodded, but at that moment, a boisterous group at a nearby table erupted into a raucous cheer, toasting with large tankards of mead, breaking the tension. One overly enthusiastic patron, caught up in the excitement, gestured wildly, not noticing as he backed into a server carrying a tray of drinks.
In an instant, the tray tilted, sending a cascade of mead splashing over Daisy and Callan. Daisy gasped as the cold liquid soaked through her clothes, dripping from her hair and down her face. Callan stood drenched, the mead soaking his linen shirt and kilt.
Frankie, who had been sniffing noses with another dog, barked excitedly at the sudden commotion.
The server, mortified, apologized profusely while the inebriated guy stammered out apologies. The smell was atrocious, making Daisy laugh as she wiped her face. A moment later, Callan joined in, his deep laugh mingling with hers.
The guy apologized to everyone and offered to buy the next round on him. Daisy and Callan accepted the drinks, toasting with the crowd.
CHAPTER 12
The days turned to weeks, passing quickly as summer descended and Callan tried to immerse himself in this place with its odd customs and behaviors.
When he wasn’t demonstrating swordplay, some of the other laborers had shown him how to use a tablet to find information. The tiny device contained all the wisdom in the world. ’Twas a marvel indeed.
But what he found was heartbreaking. Scotland had fared badly in the years after his own time. The highland clearances, the loss of the clan way of life. No matter his own clan had banished him and his mother, Callan did not wish for their way of life to be lost forever.
He spent hours reading about historical events and learning not only how England and Scotland had fared, but all about America, a new country. When he gathered the courage to search for information about Blackford Castle, he was filled with joy that the castle still stood.
There would be no visit, at least not for the foreseeable future as Callan had no documents that would allow him to fly on the great metal birds in the sky, nor could he take a ship across the sea. None of the men at the Faire knew how he might obtain such documents. Daisy had convinced the man in charge of the money to put Callan’s earnings in her name. She cashed his checks and gave him the money as he earned it. So for now, he must stay in America, at least until he could find a forger or some other way to get papers, allowing him to travel. Why people could no longer travel wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted, was not a step forward from his time.
