“No,” she said quickly. When he chuckled, she blew out a breath. “Yes.”
“Ye can ride with me, then.”
But she didn’t want to. Being that close to him did things to her. Made her feel things she didn’t want to feel.
Malcolm made a motion to one of the stable hands. When the boy rushed over, he said, “Help the lass down and stable the horse. She’ll be riding with me.”
“Aye, my lord,” he said with a nod.
The boy was at her side then, looking up at her and taking the reins out of her hands. She swung her leg over and slid down to the ground in a most ungraceful way. She stumbled, but the stable hand was there to keep her on her feet. She gave him a grateful smile while Malcolm chuckled again from his mount.
She flashed him a glare. A smile hid behind his thick beard.
He waved her toward him. With reluctance, she made her way to his side. The stable hand was there once again, helping her onto the horse. She managed to settle behind Malcolm, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Without another word, they headed off at a slow walk through the bailey toward the portcullis.
Chloe didn’t want to notice how solid and warm he was next to her. The cold wind pressed through her, her jeans doing nothing to keep her warm. She managed to tug up the hood onher cloak and cover her head but it didn’t help much. She ducked her head and pressed it against his back, inhaling the leather scent of him. A sigh escaped her.
As they rode, she tried to keep her face out of the wind. But every now and then she’d peek out to see the magnificent scenery. In her present, there were winding roads and cars frequenting them. But here, in this time, the landscape was untouched by modern man. There were no concrete roads or cars.
Towering mountains shrouded in mist were outlined against the cloudy, moody sky. While in her time, there were small villages nestled against the rugged landscape, here there was nothing more than a vast, untamed wilderness.
“Not long now, lass,” he said over his shoulder.
It was a relief to hear, but she did wonder what his definition of not long was. An hour? Two? It seemed as though they had been traveling for an eternity. The sun, hidden behind the clouds, dipped closer to the horizon. She was sure it had been higher in the sky when they left the Sinclairs.
He seemed unconcerned with the way she huddled against his back. As though it didn’t affect him in any way. Maybe it didn’t.
“Och, there it is now, lass.” There was a smile in his voice and perhaps a little relief.
She lifted her head and saw the castle rising in the distance. It looked as she imagined it would—a formidable medieval fortress. The exterior featured battlements, turrets, and gray stone walls surrounding it to keep invaders out. In the center of it all, the keep. Beyond it, a glistening loch.
The familiarity of it swept through her. This was the castle in the picture in Mystic Treasures.
He nudged the horse into a gallop. She tightened her grip around his waist as their speed increased. The wind was stillcold in her face but curiosity won out as they trotted past the portcullis and into the inner bailey. There, he slowed to a stop and immediately dismounted. He turned, holding his arms up to her. She slid off the back of the horse, falling into him. He caught her, his smile evident behind his beard, and held her a moment to steady her wobbly legs.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
Without a word, he took her by the hand. She was grateful for his steady presence and didn’t try to pull away. A stable boy arrived to take the horse by the reins and lead it off to the stables. Malcolm gave him explicit orders to make sure the horse was fed and brushed since it had been a long journey.
He led her from the yard toward the keep where he pushed open a heavy door. The hinges groaned as they entered the great hall.
It was a large room with a soaring ceiling and a long table in the center. Chairs were on either side, at one end, a hearth with a blazing fire to warm the place. Two men and a woman were seated at the table. When she and Malcolm entered, they all rose.
A gasp escaped the woman. Chloe’s gaze fixed on her and for a moment, she didn’t recognize her. Then she realized who she was. It couldn’t be? She stared across the room, still clutching Malcolm’s hand, into the face of her missing sister.
“Evie?” Her voice was a roughened whisper.
Evie hurried around the table, her fiery hair pulled back in a braid and her eyes shining with a joyous light. Before she reached her, though, it was all too much for her. Her knees gave out, crumpling underneath her, as she crumbled to the ground, releasing Malcolm’s hand.
“Chloe!”
Her sister bounded out from behind the table and ran to her, her face lit with happiness and her eyes shimmering with tears.
Relief mixed with confusion flickered through her as Evie fell to her knees and wrapped her into the fiercest hug she had ever felt.
“You’re here!” she said against her hair. “You made it.”
