IF NOTHING ELSE could be said about Conall Hamilton, it was that he had the unique ability, one way or another, to consistently render her speechless.

“Come, then.” He plunked her on the horse and swung up behind her before she could formulate a thought, never mind the biting response he had coming.

“The Bruce will return to the Sassenach for a bit,” he continued as though he hadn't just said those words. “Meanwhile, we will reconnect with Wallace.”

As they fell in behind the other horses and he began speaking again, she tensed, shook her head and cut him off. “It would be in your best interest to stop talking, Laird Hamilton.”

When he began to anyway, she narrowed her eyes over her shoulder, shook her head sharply, and bit out, “Like I said, it would be in your best interest to stop talking.”

When he was foolish enough to do it again, she raised her voice and called out, “Graham, I could use your help.”

Conall’s brows slammed together, and he frowned as Graham trotted up alongside them.

“May I ride with you, Graham?” She smiled at him seductively to aggravate Conall. “I find my current company presumptuous, rude and most definitely doomed, but not for the reasons he thinks.”

“Doomed is it?” Graham smirked at Conall as he steered his horse closer.

“Doomed, to say the least,” she concurred, using the insulting word Conall had just spoken.

“Och, ye dinnae want to take my lass,” Conall said into Graham’s mind thinking she didn’t follow every word.

“For starters, I’m not your lass, Laird Hamilton,” she spat as she leaned over enough that Graham could scoop her off and plunk her down in front of him. Lindsay narrowed her eyes at Conall. “Secondly, I have no further need of your training or protection.” She glanced over her shoulder at Graham and mouthed, “This is when you spur your horse and leave him behind.”

“Aye, then.” He nodded, shot Conall an apologetic look and pulled out ahead of him.

Calling on Graham, of course, served two purposes. It put distance between her and Conall and allowed her to question Graham further.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she settled in and ignored how different he felt at her back than Conall. “Your cousin drives me crazy.”

“Aye,” he replied. “Yer not alone, lass.”

She nodded, knowing full well she was not.

“So, now that we have time alone,” she continued. “Do you mind if we talk about what happened in the caves?” She met his eyes over her shoulder. “What happened after you first saw Christina?”

“Aye.” He winked. “I figured ye had called on me for a verra specific reason.”

“Two very specific reasons,” she reminded, glancing beyond Graham’s shoulder to Conall’s moody countenance. “One of which appears to be working perfectly.”

“I imagine ‘tis,” he replied, his suddenly serious eyes catching hers before she turned back. “I know his behavior is hard to tolerate on occasion, but ye’ve got to remember that he’s been through an awful lot.” His voice softened. “I couldnae imagine losing my best friend then my da so soon after.”

“I know,” she said softly as she looked forward again. “And while I feel for him, I really do, it doesn’t give him the right to continually treat people poorly.”

“Does he then?” Graham murmured. “Treat everyone so poorly? You?”

She thought of the magically spacious tent last night and how concerned he seemed that she stayed warm and sheltered.

“Let’s talk about you and what happened,” she said, not in the mood to further explore the riot of emotions Conall could too easily invoke. “You saw Christina run toward the tent. Then what?”

“Then...” He cleared his throat, clearly feeling strongly about something. “Then I was there at Mystery Hill. She stopped running and turned around after she passed through me somehow.”

“So she did pass through you?”

“Aye, I suppose,” he murmured. “’Twas a feeling unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“What sort of feeling?” She glanced over her shoulder into his dark eyes. Eyes, she realized, that were smoldering with something undefinable. Interest, confusion...lust? “Happiness, sadness, anger?”

“More like...recognition.”

Her brows shot up. “Recognition?”

Could they have shared a childhood friendship like she and Conall had?

“Aye,” he replied. “’Twas as if I had seen her before.”

“Okay.” She nodded and faced forward again. “That makes sense considering everything that’s going on with all of us. The rings and their gems.”

“Och, nay, ‘twas not like that,” he said so softly she barely caught it. “’Twas as if I remember her as an important historical figure.”

Lindsay frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Nor do I,” he admitted. “I think she thought I would be the Bruce when she turned back. There was hope in her eyes.”

She shook her head. “But we figured out that Robert was under the influence of dark magic.”

“Aye,” Graham said. “But what of Christina’s dream? Was it not of the Bruce? And is he not one of the most important figures in Scottish history?”

She looked at him again, still frowning. “Why do I almost get the feeling you’re saying you think Christina is going to become part of Scotland’s history? That she might very well end up with Robert the Bruce?”

He shrugged, but she didn’t miss the troubled tone of his voice. “Are we not all to become part of Scotland’s history?”

“Yes, well, some of us,” she conceded. “But it sounds like you’re talking about actual recorded history.”

Because all of them on these quests to save Scotland, MacLomains and Brouns alike, would never be part of recorded history. Or so she had been told.

“All I know is ‘tis likely she’ll be traveling back in time,” Graham continued softly. “And that she will play a verra important role when she does.”

She nodded as she turned her eyes to the path ahead. Of course, Christina would be traveling back in time as would Jessie. She didn’t doubt that in the least. No more than she assumed Graham and Bryce would be their matches.

Not for the first time, she mulled that over. For some reason, she had pictured Christina with Bryce. Likely because it was a stretch envisioning the largest of the MacLomains with the smallest of the Brouns. 

“Such a size difference didnae stop my great Aunt Torra MacLomain from ending up with my Great Uncle Colin MacLeod,” Conall muttered into her mind. “Against all odds, be it physical or mental, connections that are meant to be will be.”

If she knew what was good for her, she would ignore him.

“When I got off your horse and freed you from both training and protecting me,” she replied, “that meant staying out of my mind as well.”

“You know I cannae do that,” he said. “And you know why.”

“Think what you want, Laird Hamilton, but I do not have to commit to you.” She rounded her eyes though he couldn’t see them. “And I most certainly will not sleep with you until we harness the power of my ring.”

“Lying together is logical,” he replied, clearly stuck in utter-jackass-mode. “And ‘tis no hardship for you, aye?”

Did he really just say that? Was he truly that arrogant? Yet as she fumed, deep down she knew he was right. At least about the lack of hardship on her part. And maybe even all the rest. But that didn’t make his continual lack of tact any easier to swallow. Rather than respond, she clenched her teeth and kept fuming. Nobody needed to see her aggravation. Least of all Conall.

“He is going about this the only way he knows how, lass,” Graham said sometime later after she had cooled down.

“You followed all that back there, eh?” she murmured. Snow had started spitting, and the wind had grown more gusty. Thankfully, Graham had his fur around her as well, so she was warm enough.

“’Tis verra likely all of us caught yer telepathic exchange ‘twas so heated,” he replied. “But I meant what I said. Like ye, Conall is struggling but ‘tis obvious to all, he’s come far in a verra short time. Since he met ye, lass.”

“Then I can only imagine him beforehand,” she muttered.

“Can ye truly?” Graham said. “Can ye imagine what he was like before all the loss and heartache?”

The truth was she could because she had met that Conall. She remembered the carefree boy. His smiling eyes. How he made her laugh when she never thought she would again. They had shared a unique, uplifting connection. Uncomplicated. So much so that they, ironically enough, had never even bothered exchanging names. It never seemed necessary.

“No, I can't imagine how he was,” she lied. “It’s hard to envision him any other way.”

“He used to be much like me,” he informed, the devil in his voice. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?”

“Aye.” He chuckled. “But for all his flirting, he never took a lass for long. Days at a time at most.”

“Why?” She hated that her breath caught as she waited for his response.

“We always thought he was waiting for someone...looking for someone,” Graham murmured, the tone of his voice a little too all-knowing. “No lass, despite how bonnie or even-tempered, held his attention for long.”

“That sounds sort of sad,” she remarked.

“Aye, mayhap,” Graham said. “But he was never down. Nay, quite the opposite. As though he knew whoever he was waiting for, would someday come.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “I think he was waiting for ye, Lindsay. And I think, in some way, yer a gift from the gods for him...especially now.”

She bit her lip against unexpected tears. At one time, Conall had done the same for her. He gave her a glimpse of happiness. While she couldn’t say with any certainty she had offered that to him in return, they had gotten along well. Especially considering they never saw the whole of one another and their conversations took place while she was perched in a tree.

“A magical tree,” a familiar voice reminded as Darach suddenly appeared striding alongside them.

“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. “How are you here...again?”

“What is that?” Graham asked.

“I...um...nothing,” she whispered, still seeing Darach clear as day as he said, “Remember lass, move beyond all the faces you’re willing to wear and follow the gem. The more you do, the easier ‘twill be for me to reach out to you.”

She nodded, not sure what she was agreeing to. Or so she tried to convince herself as she glanced back at Conall. He had remained right behind them, his vigilant eyes still firmly locked on her. It was obvious he intended to remain her protector, whether she liked it or not.

By the time she turned back, Darach had vanished once more.

Yet, not surprisingly, Grant trotted up alongside them, his eyes alert as they met hers. “Is all well, lass?”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled. “Graham has been taking good care of me.”

While she knew Grant could not see his son, she was beginning to think he sensed when Darach was around.

“Aye, good then.” His eyes met Graham’s. “’Tis time to walk your horse. We veer off soon down an embankment that brings us closer to the river. ‘Twill be slick.”

Graham nodded and stopped the horse as did many others before he swung down and helped her after him. Her feet had no sooner hit the ground when Conall was there, his tone tight and his eyes sterner than ever. “You will continue with me, lass. ‘Twill be a dangerous decline.”

“I’ll be just fine with Graham—” she began before Graham interrupted her. “Nay, lass, go with Conall. Bryce and I will lead the horses down. Ye shouldnae be near the beasties whilst they make the descent.” He shook his head. “Especially not in this weather.”

She nodded, not about to argue when she didn’t know the land. As it turned out, the way was rather steep considering they weren’t in an overly mountainous area. Conall took her hand and led the way. “Watch my every step and mimic it.”

So she did, suddenly remembering a day when it mysteriously snowed in her tree. Not weather from where she lived, but where he was. While there were always variants between their temperatures, this day had been notable. It had gone from warm to blustery and cold in an instant.

In fact, it had been the first time she saw snow.

It was also the first time Conall became determined to climb up and finally find her...meet her face to face.

“There has got to be a way up,” he muttered trying over and over to climb or find other inventive ways up, but always failing.

“Maybe I can come down,” she replied, her eyes wide with wonder as she watched the snow falling. “Maybe this is a sign. The snow is here and will somehow help.”

“If anything ‘twill only make it slicker.” She could hear the frown in his voice. “Dinnae risk it, lass. We will try another day.”

“But what if there isn’t another day?” she argued. “We have no control over when and if we’ll see each other again.”

“Och, we’ll see each other again,” he vowed, worry in his voice. “But mayhap not if ye try to get down this tree, aye?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured as she eyed the branches and tried to determine which ones might best lead her down. “Trust me, I’m a master tree-climber.”

“Not in snow, yer not,” he grumbled.

“I’m coming down,” she declared. “So be ready to catch me if I fall.”

“If yer so determined then listen to me carefully, aye?” he called up. “Follow my every direction, so ye dinnae slip and fall to yer bloody death.”

“All right but you better talk fast,” she replied as she started to edge along a thick branch. “Because I’m ready!”

Unfortunately, her first mistake was not listening to him because seconds later, she started to slide on the slick branch until she went ass-over-teakettle and started falling. She remembered feeling sheer panic then a strange sort of peace because she knew no matter how high up, he would catch her.

He would be there.

Almost as if her thoughts of the past manifested in the present, she started to slip only for Conall to brace his body and stop her. Whereas before she never landed and he vanished, this time he was right there. When his eyes met hers, however, his words were not heroic-like in the least.

“This isnae the past, lass,” he grunted with a frown. “Pay attention, aye?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered his stiff attitude in kind then met his frown. “I got this. Let’s go.”

Her breath caught when his eyes lingered on hers for a second longer than she anticipated. How did he do that? How could she be so irritated with him, yet he could turn up the sexual heat simmering between them with one look. A look that could be one of many dismal, stoic expressions. She could hardly imagine what it would be like if he started smiling, flirting and maybe even laughing.

“I remember a day you knew how to flirt,” she muttered under her breath, unaware she had spoken aloud as she carefully followed his every step down.

“And I remember being grateful I had someone to practice on,” he muttered back. “But then you made it easy.”

“We were just kids,” she scoffed.

Suddenly, Conall stopped short and braced himself against a tree to keep them both from sliding. She was surprised by the turbulence in his eyes as they met hers and he murmured, “We werenae bairns near the end, lass.”

“I was fourteen,” she said softly. “And you weren’t that much older.”

“I was old enough.” He allowed her to slide until she was against him. Until his lips were so close their breath intermingled. So close his brogue thickened along with other things. “Old enough to know I wanted ye...that I would catch ye when you fell and never let ye go.”

“Aye,” came a roar she thought might have been her inner voice she was so caught in the moment. “I told ye we’d find them.”

Seconds later, an arrow hit the tree less than a foot above Conall’s head.