Chapter Twenty-Two
Rachel
As the MacLeods race toward us, aiming to take the drawbridge and all of Dùndubhan, I suddenly realize there might be a less violent solution to Alisdair's challenge. If they cannae get close enough to seize us---or me, that is---then mayhap they will give up on this moronic attempt to abduct me.
I rush to the nearest spot where I can still see Joey up on the walkway. And I shout to gain his attention. "I've got an idea. Follow my lead."
He leans over to stare down at me. "Rachel, what---"
Without waiting for his response, I dash toward the gatehouse, my skirts flapping wildly in the wind.
"Rachel, what in the Sam Hill are you doing down there?"
The approaching thunder of hoofbeats threatens to drown out anything I might. But I have a wee window in which to shout, "We're going to give them a wee surprise! Well, a large one, actually."
Joey shakes his head, then returns to helping my father.
As I reach the winch that controls the drawbridge, I grab the handle and attempt to give it a mighty heave. But I cannae do it. My father always manned the drawbridge, and I never bothered to learn how to operate it.
Joey emerges from the inside the castle, coming up beside me. "Need a hand, Your Highness?"
"Aye, please. The drawbridge is bloody hard to maneuver."
Joey manhandles the mechanism, forcing the ancient gears to function. They groan in protest, but gradually, the bridge begins to move. It creaks and groans as it rises, the ancient wood protesting against the sudden movement. I watch with bated breath as the gap between us and the approaching MacLeods widens.
"Faster, Joey!" I urge. The thundering hoofbeats grow louder, and I can see the glint of steel in the sunlight as Alisdair's men draw their swords.
Joey grunts with his effort, his muscles straining as he works the winch. "I'm...trying...Rachel. This thing...weighs...a fucking ton!"
Just as the MacLeod clansmen reach the edge of the moat, the drawbridge slams shut with a resounding boom. I hear shouts of surprise and anger from the other side, followed by the splashing of several men falling into the water. Their mates fish them out but nearly drown one man in the process.
"Hah!" With a triumphant grin, I spin round to plant a quick kiss on Joey's cheek. The exertion of outsmarting the MacLeod clan has left me both exhilarated and exhausted. "That'll teach them to mess with the MacTaggarts of Dùndubhan!"
Joey doubles over, hands on his knees, sucking in deep breaths. "Holy shit, woman...You almost...gave me...a heart attack!"
I sober quickly and race to his side, my victory dimmed by the toll our narrow escape had taken on him. I rest a hand on his back. "Och, Joey, I'm so sorry. Are you injured? Ye dinnae look well."
Straightening up, he flashes me a crooked grin and waves a dismissive hand. "Nah, I'm fine, just out of shape. Guess hauling ancient drawbridges should've been part of my workout routine back in New York City."
A laugh splutters out of me. "Dinnae worry. We'll make a proper Scotsman of you yet."
Joey's retort is cut short by a booming voice from beyond the walls. "Rachel MacTaggart! You cannae hide forever! Open this bridge at once, or we'll find another way in!"
I roll my eyes, recognizing Alisdair's pompous tone. "That numpty never knows when to quit."
Joey raises an eyebrow. "Numpty?"
"Idiot," I clarify, then turn back to the wall. "Alisdair MacLeod, you bloody stupid pillock!" I take a deep breath, summoning all the bravado I can muster. "Ye can huff and puff all ye like, but this castle has stood for centuries against far worse threats than a sorry lad with delusions of grandeur!"
Joey snorts beside me, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
I flash him a quick grin before continuing my tirade. "If ye think ye can take Dùndubhan by force, then by all means, give it yer best shot. But I warn ye, the MacTaggart clan doesnae take kindly to uninvited guests!"
There's a moment of stunned silence from the other side of the wall. Then, Alisdair's voice rings out again, this time with a hint of uncertainty. "Rachel, be reasonable!"
I snort at Alisdair's plea. "Reasonable? You're the one who came charging at our gates with a band of armed men!"
Joey steps up beside me, his voice carrying over the wall. "Yeah, pal. Where I come from, we call that breaking and entering. Or possibly attempted kidnapping. Take your pick."
I give Joey an appreciative glance, warmth blooming in my chest at his unwavering support. Turning back to the wall, I call out, "Ye heard the man, Alisdair. Now take yer wee army and go home before ye embarrass yerself further."
A commotion erupts on the other side of the wall as muffled voices argue amongst themselves. I strain to hear, catching snippets of "...not worth it" and "...her father will have our hides."
Finally, Alisdair's voice rings out once more, this time tinged with frustration and a wee bit of defeat. "This isn't over, Rachel MacTaggart! You may have won this battle, but the war is far from finished!"
I roll my eyes at his dramatic declaration. "Away and boil yer head, Alisdair! There's no prize to be won here, only a fool's war!"
We listen as the sounds of hoofbeats gradually fade into the distance. When silence settles over Dùndubhan once more, I turn to Joey. "Well, that was a bit of excitement for the day, wasn't it?"
Joey pulls me into his arms and kisses me. "You Scots sure know how to keep things interesting."
"It's our way. Sometimes it's even more exciting 'round here."
Joey's eyebrows shoot up. "More exciting? What, do you have dragons hiding in the loch or something?"
"No dragons." I wrap my arms around his neck. "But we do have a resident kelpie or two. They're much more troublesome than dragons, if ye ask me."
Joey opens his mouth, likely to ask what in the world a kelpie is, when a shout from the courtyard interrupts us.
"Rachel! Joey! Are ye alright?"
I turn to see my father striding toward us, his claymore still firmly in his hand. Behind him, a small crowd has gathered, consisting of my great-aunts, my mother, and my grandparents.
"We're fine, Athairich ," I say, waving reassuringly. "Alisdair will rue the day he tried to assault Dùndubhan."
As the Laird of Dùndubhan approaches, his grim expression slides into a smug smile. He visually scans every one of us for injuries. Finding none, his demeanor relaxes slightly. "Ye did well, lass. But what in the name of all that's holy possessed you and Joey to take on the MacLeods by yerselves?"
I shrug. "It was either that or let them waltz right in and snatch me away. I chose the more entertaining option."
Joey chuckles beside me. "Yeah, 'entertaining' is one word for it."
Now that the MacLeods are scurrying away to lick their wounds, we return to our normal daily chores and whatever else we might like to do. I still want to know more about Joey's past. He's been reluctant to tell me much, probably because he fears I might disapprove---or that my father might put him through another test of his mettle. But I approve of Joey wholeheartedly, and I dinnae believe my father will require more tests. He knows I have deep feelings for Joseph Finnegan.
After the evening meal, I excuse myself and Joey. He doesn't mind if I speak for him. I know that because he winked at me and smirked. My father and mother wish for me to remain inside the castle compound. I agree to the limitation, mostly because I have no wish to cause my family any further anxiety. We will be safe within these walls. The drawbridge remains closed, after all, and the sun won't set for a while yet.
Joey and I go into the garden for a private discussion.
I settle onto a bench, patting the empty space beside me. "Come, Joey, please do sit with me."
He cautiously rests his taut arse on the bench, mere inches from my thigh. "Should I be worried about why you brought me here? You've got that serious look in your eyes again."
I shake my head, brushing my fingers over his lips. "Nay, mo leannan . I simply...want to ken ye better. Ye've been through so much since ye arrived here, and I feel like there's still so much about ye I dinnae understand."
Joey's shoulders tense slightly, but he doesn't pull away. "Rachel, I...well, my past isn't exactly something I'm proud of. I'm not sure you'd want to hear all the seedy details."
I reach out to Joey, gently taking his hand in mine. "Joey, I care for ye. Whatever ye've done, whatever ye've been through, it's made ye the man ye are now. The man I..."
My thought trails off, and I'm feeling strangely shy.
"The man you what, Rachel?"
I take a deep breath, releasing it as I gather my courage. Speaking the truth has never been difficult for me. But this is the first time I've felt this way. I clear my throat and simply say it. "The man I've fallen in love with, Joey---you."
For a moment, he doesn't speak, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, little by little, a smile spreads across his face, lighting him up in a way I've never seen before. "Rachel, I love you too. God help me, I've tried not to, but I can't fight it anymore."
He leans in, cupping my face with his free hand, and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is tender at first, then grows more passionate as we both pour our pent-up emotions into it. When we finally break apart, we're breathing hard.
" Bod an Donais ," I say, a bit dazed, "that was certainly worth waiting for."
Joey chuckles, resting his forehead against mine.
I smooth my skirts and clear my throat. "Now that we've got that settled, will ye tell me more about your past, Joey? I want to know everything."
He exhales a long sigh, leaning back slightly but keeping his hand entwined with mine. "It's not a pretty story, Rachel. I've done things I'm not proud of."
"Dinnae care," I reassure him. "I'm asking for honesty, not perfection."
"Yeah, I know." He scratches his head, twisting his lips into an odd expression. "Okay, you deserve the whole truth. Back in New York City, I...worked for some dangerous people. You know that already, since I told you about Damiano and Fulvio. But there's more. I started out just running errands and sneaking into pawn shops to steal a few things. But before I knew it, I was in deep."
I fold my hands around his, hoping the gesture will ease his anxiety.
"There was this one job," he continues. "It was supposed to be a simple break-in, just grab some documents and get out. But things went sideways fast."
I move closer. "What happened?"
Joey's eyes cloud with a sort of pain I've never seen in him before. "The owner was there. He wasn't supposed to be, but...We fought. I didn't mean to hurt him, Rachel, I swear it. But in the scuffle, he fell. Hit his head on the corner of his desk. There was so much blood..."
I feel a stab of shock at his confession. But rather than pulling away, I squeeze his hand tighter. "Oh, Joey..."
"The guy lived," he says quickly. "And he was only in the hospital for one night. I sneaked into his room and slipped some money into his wallet, as if that made up for my horrible mistake. But that's when I knew I had to get out. I couldn't do that kind of work anymore. But you don't just walk away from people like Damiano and Fulvio. They don't take kindly to deserters."
My heart aches for Joey, for the pain I see in eyes. But at last, I understand why he behaved the way he did when we first met. "So that's why ye came to Scotland? To escape from that den of savages."
Joey gives a hollow laugh. "Yeah, you could say that. Fulvio kept hounding me, so I figured putting an ocean between us might help. Jumped on the first plane out of the US, which got me to Scotland. Never imagined I'd end up traveling through time too."
I cup his cheek gently. "Ye didnae know about the portal when ye came here---and to me."