The Highlander's Time

Buttercup. That was my first pet's name.” It was also her clue to the half dozen passwords of programs she'd worked in back in the future. A sudden solemnness flowed over her. “Maybe not,” she mumbled.
    “Milady, there are times for tears and times for joy. This is a time for joy.”
    They hadn't even left the courtyard and she was already melancholy. “You're right.” She nodded. Amazed, she watched the villagers come out from their cottages to bid them farewell. When in doubt, nod. The memory of Charlzie and her on that first morning brought a smile to her lips.
    The crowd lining the road cheered. Even Iaen turned to stare at her, pride sparkling in his blue eyes. Nothing like a fortunate accident .
    “Serendipity,” she whispered. “A fortunate accident.” Keeping her smile in place and nodding when they came to the next family, she thought about serendipity.
    Father Thomas had related the story behind The Veil. Its purpose. She hadn't bought the wild tale of the anomaly snatching a person from the future to whisk them back in time with the intent that the 'traveler' find true love in the past. The evidence of what she saw in the office, then her time here had almost proved to her The Veil existed. It was its ulterior motive that eluded her.
    Fairy tales and fantasies were fine in romantic comedies, but this was life— real life. Her life.
    She'd never had anything fortunate happen to her. Then again, she'd never won even five dollars from a scratch-off lottery ticket or the door prize from a basket bingo, raffle, what have you. It was her closely kept secret, but she honestly believed she'd been born beneath an unlucky star.
    Her gaze flowed over the rugged beauty of Kincaid land. The rush of the river lent to the ambiance. In her imagination, she could see the moors covered with heather. The light dusting of snow lent an ethereal feel to the place.
    “Milady?”
    “Sorry, I zoned out for a moment.” She winced when she responded in English. “I'm distracted.” Flubbing even that much of her explanation, she knew what she had to do. Let go of the future, the ways and all that, and focus on her life with Iaen. “I'm confused.” Now there was a phrase she definitely had down.
    “That's to be expected.” He reined in. Easing the filly forward so the horses were side by side, he stared at her.
    She reached for him and he obliged her by dipping his head. The power of his kiss shuddered through her.
    A roar of approval shattered the moment.
    Iaen lifted his head. “Welcome to the Clan Kincaid, milady.”
    She held up a finger. “What was that about?”
    “'Twas what my father did to my mother whenever he took her to the border. The clan has come to see it as a sign that all is well between the Laird and his Lady.”
    “Oh.” That makes sense—in a parallel universe .

    Chapter Eight

    Did you ever read the story about the little engine that could?

    Jenny hung onto the high pommel, her heart racing. “This isn't a good idea.”
    “Calm thyself. We're nearly there.”
    Great . That they were nearly there wasn't good enough. Hell no. That they were riding a narrow trail up a steep hill was. He'd already taken her reins to guide the filly, but knowing Serendipity was in safe hands didn't mean squat. She wanted that safety net wrapped around her. “I hate this.”
    A scream lit from her throat when Serendipity lost her footing. “Stop laughing at me,” she shouted at Iaen when he started to chuckle. “This is not funny. I hate heights.”
    “You can open your eyes, Jenny.”
    Calling up every ounce of courage she possessed, Jenny cracked her left eye then her right. “Oh, my.”
    The view stretching out before her was spectacular. Rolling hills dotted with cottages. She could also see why Iaen came here to hunt. The land below her teemed with wildlife. Her lips formed a perfect 'o' when the shaggy coat of a deer moved into her line of sight. The animal nuzzled something hidden by the high grass. A happy smile crossed her features when a smaller version of the mother peeked its head up and trotted off. It was a scene right out of a travel brochure. “Where are we?”
    “This is the highest moor on Kincaid land. Every year I come here to reaffirm why I am Laird.” He swept his arm in an arc. Steering them around, he pointed to the north. “That is Clan Wulfson's territory.”
    “Your mother was from there. Something about she married your father to secure peace between the Kincaids