11

Still atop Smoke, Sarah looked down and studied the beautiful redhead who Meehall’s youngest brother had married —recently, if Eoin had first arrived in this time two years ago. From the way she studied Sarah in return, it was obvious Eoin’s wife knew about time travel.

Malina's eyes searched all over Sarah. When she was done, disappointment showed on her face. And then she pinched the hem of Sarah's plaid Macbeth costume skirt. She turned it over and studied the stitches a few moments, smoothing them between her thumb and forefinger and going along a foot of fabric.

When Malina dropped the skirt, she looked both impressed and satisfied with herself. "Ye had best come doon. I am meant tae introduce ye aroond, and ’twill go better if ye are na riding. Ye canna get inside anyone’s tent as ye are, nae can ye?"

Sarah held up her hand in a gesture of peace while pressing her lips together to show contrition. "O’ course. Where shall I tie him up?”

Instead of answering her directly, Malina called out, “Rory!"

A red-headed boy who was almost a man and looked a lot like Malina appeared, running but not out of breath. “Mither?"

"Lyle?"

“Aye.” Rory took the side strap of Smoke’s bridle in his hand while looking up at Sarah, offering his hand.

She took it and had no sooner landed on her feet than Rory was up on Smoke, riding to where a bunch of other horses were tied.

Sarah watched him a moment, speaking to his mother out of the corner of her mouth. "I suppose Meehall just leaves everything in the saddlebags?"

"Aye." Malina looped her arm through Sarah's. It was a friendly gesture, and it surprised her. "Come, I will introduce ye tae the women o’ Clan Murray."

Half an hour later, Sarah had heard 30 names she didn't think she was likely to remember, let alone associate with 30 faces. She looked to Malina to see if there would be a next stop.

Malina patted Sarah’s hand in sympathy. "I suppose ye would like tae meet Meehall’s sons, aye?"

Sarah’s reaction to this surprised her. "Aye, I would."

Malina smiled and called out, “Alan, Keith, Lyle!”

Three boys came running, all looking like miniature variations of Meehall. From largest to smallest, their questions were:

"Who is this, Malina?"

“Where did she come from?”

“Is the bonny gaun'ae bide?”

After meeting Sarah’s eyes to share a grin at Lyle’s adorableness, Malina addressed Alan’s question. "Lads, this is a friend o’ yer da and his brother. Her name is Sarah.”

“Hello, Sarah,” Lyle said immediately.

Malina put a hand on Lyle’s back and hugged him to her leg, gesturing first at one brother and then the other.  “Sarah, this is Meehall's oldest, Alan. He is six and just lost his first tooth this morning. This is Keith, who is four, and Lyle, who is three."

Before Sarah could get a word in, the boys were pelting her with questions.

Keith tugged on her skirt. "How dae ye ken Da and Uncle?"

Lyle took her hand. "Are ye gaun'ae bide with us and be a Murray?"

In a low voice, Alan asked her, “Are ye a MacGregor tae?"

Keith asked, "Dae ye hae any sons we can play with?"

Lyle tugged on her hand until she looked at him. "Dae ye already hae a husband?"

Sarah pressed her lips together to stifle her laugh, but a chuckle came out despite her efforts. “I'm only here for a visit. Nay, I dinna hae a husband, and nay, I dinna hae any children."

Alan looked down, spun slowly around, then held his tooth up to his eyes to look at it some more.

But Lyle kept hold of Sarah’s hand and sat down on some grass, pulling her down next to him. He looked her frankly in the eye. "Da has na been the same since Mither died. He needs a new wife."

Sarah looked at him just as seriously. "’Tis verra good o’ ye, tae be looking oot for yer da.”

Lyle puffed out his little chest and raised his chin.

Malina cleared her throat. "Speak o’ the devil and he appears."

Sarah looked up from the charming young Lyle and saw Meehall about to join them, along with Eoin and two other men who must be their cousins. Seeing Meehall and his brother together brought bittersweet tears to her eyes, because the way they were walking conjured a memory of when they had walked up to her at the same distance from each other, in the same formation.

***

Jaelle’s huge sword whooshed at Sarah. Her face was red with pretend rage, and she yelled her usual relentless stream of overly honest conversation as a sort of battle cry, which could be heard by the cheering crowd sitting under red, green, and yelllow-dyed burlap shaders in the stands. “Make peace with yer maker, for I am gaun'ae cut ye in twain! I hae been restful far tae lang!”

Without any theatrics of her own, Sarah whipped her quarterstaff around to bounce Jaelle’s sword away with a satisfying thwack that made Jaelle bend down with its force, allowing Sarah to hold her long skirts up and back away five steps across the dirt arena. "Are ye certain we but play? Ye are making this verra realistic."

Jaelle rushed at Sarah again and struck from a different direction, making it more difficult for Sarah to parry. "Och, Sarah, ye can dae far better than this! Quit holding back! I can take it, ye ken. We hae tae make this look good, if we want tae hae a chance."

Sarah beat the sword away again, but only barely. "If we want to have a chance at what?"

Jaelle twisted her head and leaned over in an exaggerated motion that said Sarah’s question had an obvious answer. "Your turn. Come at me. Make it convincing."

Sarah did. She ran at Jaelle with her quarterstaff whipping around to take advantage of its longer reach. "You may want a chance at being a fight instructor, but I sure don't."

Jaelle swung her hips back and moved her middle out of the way of Sarah's quarterstaff. "Why not?"

"The truth?" Sarah whirled around with a satisfying swirl of her skirts and hair —which she was disappointed that Meehall had to miss.

“Bout over!" Called Peadar, Meehall’s dad. "Clear the field."

This was the part Sarah didn't like. They had to go over to Peadar now and get critique on their fight. The critique wouldn't be so much about their technique as their theatricality. To her horror, she got good marks for theatricality but failed technique. Jaelle fared the opposite. The short answer was they wouldn't be instructors anytime soon.

Once they are safely away from him, Jaelle whispered, "Yes, the truth. Why do you keep taking stage fighting if you don't want a chance at instructor? You’re plenty good enough for the shows already."

Sarah leaned in conspiratorially and whispered back to Jaelle, "I'm afraid that if I don't, I won't be included in everything, and I’ll miss chances to be with Meehall."

Sarah usually hung out with Ashley at the faire, seeing how the two of them were dating twins. But for whatever reason, Meehall and Eoin had needed immunizations that day and gone to town to see the doctor, whereas the other girls’ boyfriends hadn't. So they were sitting all cozy as couples with Dall and Emily's blessing — albeit the girls’ parents didn't know. This was their carefully guarded secret, and they wondered how long they could keep it.

Jaelle was sulking. "It's just you and me, Sarah. Everyone else is doing something they like. Well, I suppose Meehall and Eoin are having a hard time."

"Are you kidding? They’re having the time of their lives in town. I can't believe Vange let them drive by themselves. I'll be amazed if they make it to the doctor's office."

Jaelle smiled the tiniest bit through her sulk. "We should have gone with them."

Sarah smiled knowingly. "Next time, we will."

The two did their special handshake, sealing the deal, and then watched the rest of the bouts with a smug satisfaction they communicated with subtle looks. They were missing their guys.

Rapt on the sword fight in front of her, Sarah felt Jaelle nudge her side and looked up. She saw a scene very similar to the one which had brought this all up in her mind.

Meehall and Eoin walked toward her in the same formation, minus their two cousins. It was as if this were a predetermined way the two of them walked together.

The idea gave her shivers as she sat dazed, watching them approach in real life.

Sarah lowered her head so that Meehall wouldn't see the blush in her face at the memories of what happened later on that day.

They were walking under the stars like they always did when all the customers had gone home and it was only the faire people who spent the night here. This was the last night of the summer in North America. Tomorrow, Meehall and Conall, Eoin and Jeff, Tavish and Tomas, and all of their parents would fly to Australia’s spring and summer, along with the other key people from the faire.

Meehall would be gone until USA faire recruiting started in spring.

She looked up at his thoughtful face. “Text me every day. Promise."

He stopped and turned her to face him there under the stars in the field of recently mown hay. His kilt and long ash-blond hair flapped in the breeze. He had never looked so gorgeous. "Don’t I always." It was a statement rather than a question, and he moved in to kiss her.

She kissed him back, but it was difficult with her tears turning into sobs. "I'm always afraid you’ll meet someone down there, that you won't be interested in me anymore."

"Sarah, that will never happen. You’re the one for me. We’ll be married someday."

She clung to him, turning their romantic embrace into something she wasn't very proud of, but she couldn't bring herself to let go. She spoke against his chest through her sobs. "Promise? Promise I'm the one you're going to marry? And shouldn't you be asking me instead of telling me?"

He held her tenderly. "We're only 14, Sarah. I can't be asking you yet. But yes, I promise, both to text you and to marry you." He stroked her hair and caressed her back and did everything he always did when she was upset.

It worked, a bit. Her breathing slowed and she quit sobbing. The tears flowed down until she only needed to wipe them away every few breaths.

They held each other like that until it got too cold to stay outside anymore. And then they went to their separate tents, him to the boys’ and her to the girls’.

***

Meehall sat down on the grass beside Sarah and smiled at little Lyle’s hand in hers. “’Tis all arranged. The Murrays ride tae find the Camerons on the morrow. I'm gang now tae take oor children and elderly tae stay with allies until the conflict is ower."

“Good," she told him, once more hopeful that Nadia and Ellie would soon be freed.

He put his hand over hers and Lyle’s. "Let me take ye away as well. My mind will be more at ease if I ken ye are safe."

Lyle raised his head up proudly again. "I wull keep this bonny lass safe, Da."

Sarah gently squeezed Lyle’s hand and addressed him, rather than Meehall. "I thank ye for the offer. Howsoever, I dae need tae ride with the Murrays. Some o’ my friends hae been captured by the Camerons. I will na rest easy myself until I see them freed. If I stay behind, I will worry sae much that I will be terrible company for all o’ ye."

"Verra wull," said Meehall. "Come, lads. We leave now."

They all ran off with their father.

Sarah was left with Malina, Eoin, and the cousins. She studied Eoin’s face. He had changed. Way more than Meehall or even Kelsey had. Sarah wouldn't have recognized him from a distance, his muscles were so big.

Even as he sat there on the grass nearby, joking with his cousins, he was lifting a rock over and over, working his biceps. "Well met, Sarah. It has been a lang time. But Celtic University agrees with ye. Ye are the picture o’ health."

"As are ye, Eoin. Look at ye!”

He flexed.

It made Sarah uncomfortable. She looked at Malina while asking Eoin, “Are ye gaun'ae introduce me tae yer cousins?"

Malina shoved her husband playfully.

He grunted, never stopping his bodybuilding. "This here is Ciaran."

"Well met," she told the tall man with short dark hair.

"My pleasure.”

Eoin shifted the rock to his other hand and worked his other biceps. "This fellow ower here is Baltair."

This other cousin was farther away and merely nodded.

Sarah nodded back, then turned to Eoin. “Tell me aboot these portals. Meehall says they were na used in the time o’ Hadrian's Wall, but telt o’ in many tales."

"Aye," Eoin said with a hint of a snarl. And every last one o’ those tales ends badly, with those who dae na hae access tae the portals dying horrible deaths. I dae na ken enough tae be helpful, but I ken someone who will be. When my brother returns, we must pay him a visit."