Chapter Seventeen
This was not Elise’s idea of fun. Salt spray stung her cheeks, her stomach swayed unhelpfully with every roll of the boat, and the wind seemed determined to shove them off course.
Nope. She was never going to like sea travel.
Behind them, Islay was quickly disappearing into the heaving gray waves, and in every direction all she could see was endless ocean punctuated every now and then by a rocky, uninhabited islet that looked lonely and desolate.
Yet Jamie didn’t look worried. In fact, he looked anything but worried.
He moved through the raging wind as though he’d been carved out of the elements themselves.
When the boat rocked, he shifted his weight to keep it steady.
When they were pulled off course, his hands adjusted the rope and sail fluidly, instinctively.
His wet hair was plastered against his forehead, the muscles in his forearms taut, but his eyes shone with a savage kind of delight.
He looked like he belonged here—like he was born of salt and wind and wildness.
Here he wasn’t Lord of the Isles, chieftain of Islay, liege lord to so many who depended on him. Here he was just Jamie Donald.
“You should have been a fisherman,” she called over the wind. “You’ve missed your calling!”
He grinned at her and gave a delighted laugh. “Aye. I was sailing almost before I could walk. When I was a lad, I won the Cloud Rocks Race three years in a row!”
“Did you now? Are you sure they didn’t just let you win because you were the chieftain’s son?”
He laughed again. “Aye, perhaps they did. But I was mighty pleased all the same.”
Elise liked this side of Jamie. Lighthearted.
Unburdened by all the demands made on him.
What would it be like if they just carried on sailing?
What would it be like if they left the Isles and its burdens behind and kept going, just the two of them?
It was an enticing thought, but one which Elise didn’t entertain for long.
Jamie could no more give up his responsibilities than he could stop breathing—and Elise would never want him to. They were part of what made him the man he was—the man she loved with her heart and soul.
And she could not stop being a MacFinnan spellweaver any more than Jamie could stop being chieftain. He wasn’t the only one with responsibilities.
The boat lurched over another swell, and she grabbed the side, swallowing hard. “Ugh,” she muttered. “This is horrible.”
Jamie glanced over his shoulder and gave a crooked smile. “Keep yer eyes on the horizon. And try not thinking about all those fathoms of water beneath ye.”
“Thank you,” she said dryly. “That’s extremely helpful.”
His laugh rolled through her like warm sunlight.
They sailed for what felt like forever and spotted no other ships, for which Elise was grateful.
Late in the day Jamie put in at a rocky islet that was home only to birds and seals.
Jamie caught fish for their supper while Elise used her magic to start a fire, and they spent the night camped on the beach.
It was a far more enjoyable experience than Elise had expected, but the fact that they spent most of the night exploring each other’s bodies probably had a lot to do with that.
They were up and away at first light, and Elise was so tired that she found herself dozing in the boat, trusting Jamie to get them where they needed to go. It was past midday when she blinked herself awake and then bolted upright.
“Wait!” she cried, pointing. “Is that—?”
“Aye.” Jamie nodded. “Barra.”
The island rose from the mist like something from a dream. Low, rugged hills, a scatter of cottages, a smudge of smoke drifting lazily from chimneys. And there—the gleam of a wide, sheltered bay and the small harbor tucked into its curve.
Elise stood—ignoring the way the boat rocked dangerously—and gripped the mast as the island came into view.
Barra. Rose. Her sister.
Excitement burned in her chest. She hadn’t realized quite how much she’d missed her until now. And Jenna too, her bright, brilliant niece, who was over on Skye. She had so much to tell them. Where would she even start?
She kept her gaze fixed firmly on the harbor as they drew closer. To her surprise, people began to gather on the quay, and as they neared, she heard voices drifting over the water.
“Is that him?”
“Aye—aye, it’s Laird Donald!”
“The Lord of the Isles has come to Barra!”
Jamie stiffened slightly and shared a glance with Elise but kept his expression neutral.
By the time the boat scraped against the quay, quite a crowd had gathered: men with nets slung over their shoulders, women still wearing aprons dusted with flour, children peering around legs to get a better look.
Jamie threw out a rope and one of the men grabbed it, tying it off to a bollard on the end of the quay. The man gave a perfunctory bow.
“My lord,” he said. “Welcome to Barra. When Lady Rose said ye were coming we didnae believe it, but here ye are—”
“Wait!” Elise said, pushing past Jamie. “Did you say Rose? Lady Rose?”
“Aye,” the man replied. “She said Lord Jamie would be coming across the sea—”
Before he could finish, a ripple went through the crowd. It parted to let through three figures. A man, a woman, and a girl. The three of them spied Elise and Jamie standing in the boat and stopped dead.
“By all the gods,” the man breathed. “It’s true.”
The man was tall and broad shouldered, with windswept dark hair and penetrating eyes—Cailean MacNeil, Laird of Barra—and beside him stood Catriona, his daughter.
But it was the sight of the dark-haired, bright-eyed woman standing on Cailean’s other side that hit Elise like a blow to the chest.
Rose. Elise’s kind-hearted, solid-as-bedrock sister. Rose, who had held her hand through childhood fevers, laughed with her until they cried, and saved her from impulsive disasters more times than Elise could count.
“Lady Elise?” Cailean began, looking utterly flustered. “Laird Donald, welcome to—”
Elise didn’t let him finish. A cry tore out of her—half laugh, half sob—and she leapt off the boat before Jamie could steady her. Her boots hit the stone hard, her legs nearly buckling, but she didn’t care.
“Rose!”
Her sister barely had time to gasp before Elise slammed into her with so much force they both staggered. Then Rose’s arms wrapped around her, crushing, warm.
“Elise?” Rose whispered against her hair. “Elise, is that—? Are you—? Oh gods, you’re real! I dreamed that Jamie was coming and bringing someone, but I couldn’t see who that was. Never in a million years would I have guessed it was you! Am I still dreaming? Or are you really here?”
Elise buried her face in Rose’s shoulder, tears spilling freely as Rose rocked her back and forth like she was eight years old again.
“Surprise!” Elise murmured. “It’s really me.”
Elise pushed Rose to arm’s length. She looked well.
Better than well, in fact. Her shoulder-length dark hair shone with good health, and her eyes were bright and full of life.
Then she frowned. It was a familiar look, one that Elise had seen more times than she could remember, a look that was normally aimed in her direction when she’d done something stupid.
“Elise MacFinnan,” Rose said in her best elder-sister voice. “What the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into now? You’re going to tell me everything, you hear?”
Elise found herself grinning. For the first time since she’d been whisked back in time, she felt like she’d truly come home.
*
The small sitting room smelled of peat smoke and dried heather, but it was deliciously warm and cozy with a fire roaring in the hearth, thick rugs over the floor, and two padded chairs pulled up by the fire. The fact that her big sister filled one of them probably added to the effect as well.
Rose pushed a cup into her hand. “Drink.”
Elise took it and sniffed the contents. It was tea, that blend of chamomile, peppermint, and various other ingredients that Rose had always made back home.
The smell of it hit her hard. How many times had she and her sister sat like this, talking and drinking tea?
The location might have changed, the time period might have changed, but the feel of it hadn’t.
For a moment Elise’s throat tightened. Rose had made this same tea for her after Elise’s first heartbreak, after she’d failed her first big spell, after late-night talks when Elise had staggered in reeking of booze.
Rose tucked her feet beneath her. “I still can’t believe it,” she said, cupping her own tea in both hands and blowing on it. “I still can’t believe you’ve been in Islay all this time, just over the water. And I can’t believe what’s been going on over there.”
Elise had already related everything that had happened to her from the moment Lir had appeared on top of the cliff.
She’d danced around the issue of Jamie, not quite ready to address that yet, but she’d carefully relayed everything about the attacks on Islay and what they’d discovered about the cause.
All the way through her tale, Rose had listened patiently, an attentive look on her face. When Elise had finally fallen silent, she hadn’t said anything to start with. Instead, she got up to make tea.
Now Rose blew out a long breath and shook her head, eyes bright with disbelief and worry. “Elise…why in heaven’s name didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“There wasn’t exactly time.” Elise held up her hands helplessly. “One moment I was out climbing, the next I was being whisked through time by an overbearing sea goddess. Everything since then has been—” she exhaled, searching for the right word “—crazy.”
Rose nodded. “I knew something was wrong. I kept dreaming of Islay. Over and over. And when we heard nothing from there for so long…” She frowned.
“Cailean wanted to send messengers, but when the attacks started last year Jamie gave strict instructions not to unless absolutely necessary. We just had no idea how bad it had become.”