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“Okay,” he said. “As long as we’re clear about that.”
“I just wanted to ken if someone like ye—a man with a strong soul and a soft heart—has someone in yer life?”
A grunt started deep in Konnor’s gut, but he stopped it. Was today “let’s grill Konnor about his love life day”? First Andy, and now a complete stranger?
“I don’t.”
“Good,” she exclaimed and clapped her hands. “I dinna see anyone in your heart, but I just wanted to be sure.”
“What is the point of this?”
“‘Tis all for yer own good, ye’ll see.”
Getting hurt was for his own good? She was really testing his patience. As the owner of a personal protection agency, he had to deal with all kinds of clients. Sometimes his company was contracted by Hollywood celebrities and billionaires to protect them and their families, so he’d met his share of eccentric people, but he’d never had a conversation like this. Could the concussion be causing him to hallucinate?
“What are you talking about?” he said.
She giggled, and the sweet laughter reminded him of the ringing of small bells.
“I’m testing yer patience, aye? Ye’re a good man. I wouldna have done this for a bad one. ‘Tis like so…” She pointed at the huge pile of rubble and what looked like the remnants of a wall. “‘Tis here was an ancient Pictish stronghold. ‘Twas built upon a magical rock.”
She looked pointedly at a large, flat rock that lay sunken in the dirt. It had what looked like an old, simple carving on it—a flowing river in a circle with something that looked like a road piercing it. Near the carving was the clear imprint of a hand. Just like the imprint of a shoe in asphalt before it got a chance to dry. Weird.
“They say there’s a tunnel through time that opens for those who touch the rock. On the other side is the person who’s destined for them.”
Konnor raised one brow. “Wonderful,” he murmured. “That’s a looney story.”
“There’s a person for ye, too,” Sìneag said.
“Oh, really?”
“On the other side of the tunnel of time, there’s one person who’ll make ye happy. Someone who can help you soothe all your wounds and stop running from all ye secrets. A woman you can truly love. A woman who can love ye.”
“Back in time? Do Highlanders have stories about time travel?”
An owner of one of the distilleries on their whiskey tour had been very enthusiastic about local folklore. She’d told them stories of kelpies, faeries, and silkies. But none about time travel.
“Aye, though nae many ken them. The woman I’m talking about is as hurt as you are, and she needs someone who’ll help her get back on her feet. Tell me this is nae something you need, too?”
He shook his head. “What I need is to be left alone.”
She smiled. “Ye humans amuse me. Ye make all kinds of excuses to cling to yer beliefs. Destiny will show ye, Konnor Mitchell. Remember, Marjorie will soothe yer soul.”
He propped his hand against the ground. Was he hallucinating, or was the rock with the carvings glowing? No. Not hallucinating. There was a faint glow coming from the indentations of the carving.
“What the hell?” He looked up, but Sìneag wasn’t there. He looked around. “Sìneag?”
The noise of the rain drumming against the ground and the leaves was the only sound, and the scent of lavender and cut grass was gone.
Where the hell did she go? “Sìneag?”
It seemed like the rock was vibrating. His pain and discomfort forgotten, Konnor stared at it. What was happening? The carvings were glowing clearly now—the waves blue, the straight line brown. And the handprint… It called to him to put his palm into it. What was the harm? Slowly, he moved his hand and placed it into the indentation in the rock. A buzz went through his fingers, like the distant rumble of an earthquake. It was as though his hand were made of metal and the rock was a magnet. Strangely, his head was full of one name.
Marjorie.
He fell forward, and the hard, wet surface disappeared, replaced with cold, fresh air. He saw nothing. Heard nothing. His ears were muffled, as though he’d been plunged into water.
He was falling and falling, and darkness consumed him.
