“I still don’t understand how she ended up in the twenty-first century.”
His gaze grows distant. “So far in the future. What a wondrous place your home must be.”
“Upstate New York? Yeah. Wondrous. Now, focus, please.”
A startled grin bursts across his face, transforming him. The bruised, scarred, bump-nosed thug is suddenly a guy who’s dangerous for different reasons.
He leans closer, whispering hot on my cheek, “You’re the one who keeps interrupting.”
I edge back. “Well. Then. Let’s continue.”
Callum barks a laugh, looking surprised he did. “I like how you speak.” He chucks my chin. “You’ve my apologies, Rosie.”
Nobody’s ever called me Rosie before. It catches me off guard, like a step missed on a staircase.
He shrugs. “’Tis a long story, but the short of it is, Donag was jealous of Janet.”
“What? Why? Donag is so much older than my mother would’ve been.”
“Donag was a beauty in her day.” Callum chuckles at my shocked expression. “Aye, she was. But that’s a different story entirely, and I’ve been warned to keep to the point.”
I snort. Callum’s answering grin lights up his whole face.
“Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted”—hiseyes glint with teasing—“Donag wanted to be rid of your mother, so she sent her as far away as she could imagine.”
“She sent Janet to the future.” At his nod, I press, “But why that specific year? Why not the 1950s? Or the year 3000?”
“It has to do with the clan lineage. Donag has no love for the Campbells.”
“I’m hearing that a lot.”
“Donag wanted Janet to feel total desolation. She sent her to a time when the Craignish line is no more.”
“ButI’mher family. I’m still here.”
“Aye, but the family name follows the men.”
“Surprise, surprise.” I roll my eyes. “So at some point, the last male Craignish Campbell in our family tree died, and that’s when my mother arrived?”
He nods. A shiver runs through me as I try to wrap my mind around it.
“So…is Donag related to you?”
“We’re of the same clan, but she and Gregor aren’t my blood kin. When my Da died, they took me in.”
“Wait. Who’s Gregor?”
“Gregor was Donag’s husband. They had no bairns of their own, so they raised me.”
“And made you a servant to the Campbells.” I scowl. “Some favor.”
“’Twas better than dying, Rosie.”
I glance down the barn at the shadowy stalls, contemplating this brutal world and its barbaric rules.
“How old were you?”
“I was ten when Da died. I last saw my mother when I was three.”
