Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(39)
Iain led me to a stone addition built onto the back side of the kitchen. We stepped into a cool, dark room, and Iain opened the connecting door, watching me intently as a familiar rich scent floated in.
I gasped in surprise. “Coffee!”
He grinned, lifting a steaming ceramic bowl from a kitchen table. “Aye. You like? Mairi fussed over you drinkin’ out of a bowl, but I insisted.”
Like a parched wanderer at the end of a desert odyssey, I seized the offered bowl and took a coveted sip. Although it was no Jamaican Blue Mountain, the aromatic drink had a deep buttery flavor. I loved it from the very first taste.
I explored the cold store, enjoying my first coffee in almost two weeks. Huge burlap sacks and wooden barrels lined the walls. As I leisurely perused the inventory in the ten-by-ten space, distinct aromas of spices tickled my nose. A large bag, lying open on a stack of others, held dark brown coffee beans.
“Where did you get access to all this?”
He smirked. “Weel, a few late crusaders stole a bit of Arab treasure for dear King Henry. While on a ‘diplomatic’ trip to the English royal court, we liberated the crusaders of their burden—in totality.”
“Awww . . . my very own java pirate.”
I peered at my man above the rim of my chic medieval coffee mug. There stood a warrior whose face had transformed from its usual “hard and menacing” to ruggedly handsome with a single grin at having pleased me. With his arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, his entire bearing reminded me of the afternoon I arrived here. Only instead of seeing an adversary in a kill-the-messenger way, I saw the Highlander who stood before me for what he was—the man of my dreams.
As I sipped the aromatic brew, my gaze drifted to an open bag that contained a rusty powder. I bent down, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon. With a pinch of my finger, I stole from the stash, dropping the spice into my cup. I swirled it in, and the next slow sip rolled decadent flavors over my tongue. Something so simple gave such immense pleasure. My gaze trailed below the open bean sack to count five more burlap-type bags. “So I guess we have coffee until the supply runs out.”
“Woman, I would travel to the ends of the Earth to bring that smile to your face.”
I stepped into his side, wrapping my free arm around his slender hips, and beamed up at him. “Iain, all this face ever needs to smile is you.”
The outer door opened, and Robert popped his head in. He tipped his head toward me. “M’Lady.” Then he glanced up at his laird. “Iain, the men are waitin’.”
Robert disappeared, and Iain pulled me into a tight embrace, kissing me so thoroughly, I had to grip my coffee mug tightly to keep from dropping it. He finally broke away, gazing down at me. “Stay close to Brigid. She’ll watch over you. I’m leavin’ Fergus and Ailig behind to lead the men and protect the clan. I’ll return before you’ve had time to miss me.”
I sighed, kissing him once more. “I miss you already, Iain Brodie.”
*
The horses carrying Iain and his guard galloped over the drawbridge and disappeared into the green haze of the dense forest beyond. I squeezed Brigid’s shoulder, witnessing the departure of the rescue party in solemn silence. My mood grew somber with worry for his safety, regardless of his being one of the most fearsome warriors in the land, and perhaps at the realization that I’d lost my man for a few days. Brigid’s man had been missing for a week. I had much to learn from the courageous front she held.
“Brigid, let’s go hunting. It’ll take our mind off the men, and I need practice with my bow.”
“Nay, I canna,” she said, gently shaking free of my hold. “I’ve promised to collect herbs with Agnes. Would you like to come?”
Agnes would talk our ears off. Hours of ceaseless girl talk appealed to me as much as a dip in scalding tar. I needed immersion in an activity that required focused concentration, leaving room for nothing else in my head. “No. Go ahead. I’ll catch the hare, and you can season the stew.” I frowned when she didn’t respond to me. “You okay?”
She gave me a weak smile. “We’ll find the herbs for you. And, aye, I’m well. Doona mistake my quiet. My head is filled with plans to tan Fingall’s hide for bein’ gone so long.” Brigid gave me a quick hug and headed down toward the cottages.
As I hiked up the hill to change from my dress, I passed the small, exterior room that had hosted my dramatic, ungainly entrance into Iain’s world. Something from beyond the cracked door beckoned me. I attributed the sensation to a need for a nostalgic reunion, if not a momentary distraction.
A good amount of shoulder was required to shove the heavy door open. I briefly stared into the dark room, and after a deep breath, I stepped into the past—ten days’ worth, anyway. No candles were lit, but the musty room held faint traces of the pungent aroma I’d found so offending when I arrived. Light from the doorway behind me guided my way as I approached the box, its metal surfaces reflecting the scant illumination into the room.
A gentle pull of recognition lifted my hand, my fingers extended in cautious reverence. The magick-infused object had transported me to a wondrous place and time. Everything I’d become—all that I held dear—I owed to the artifact sitting inertly on the wooden table.
Originally a mere key to advancement within an academic realm, the box had transformed into a gateway, giving me a life I’d never dreamed possible. My very happiness had come about due to the one thing I’d cursed upon arrival. I smiled as my trembling fingertips hovered around the sides and over the top.