Highland Passage by J.L. Jarvis Read Free Book Online Page A

door.
    “And, no, I do not want to come up for some coffee,” he added as he walked down the hall.
    Laughing, she turned back to her desk. Her smile faded as she thought about Ciarán. What if she could see him again? Would he still care? Would he even remember her? She thought of her last moments with Ciarán—the warmth of his lips and his sure touch as he held her. Could he have forgotten? She had not. Nor would she ever.

6
    The Dream
    Mac’s mind raced as she drove along the winding roads leading home. Just before Ciarán had vanished, the sun had shone brilliantly into the cave, but it had glowed from behind him as well. She had thought of it before but dismissed the image as her heart’s overreaction to love. The bright light had fit perfectly with the angel choir that should have been there. But as she thought of it now, it made perfect sense. It had been the sun. That was the key to it all, and Ciarán had known it. He had watched the sun rise and had stood in its path when it shone into the chamber.
    Her excitement was gone the next instant. If he knew how to do it, then why hadn’t he come back to her?
    She pulled off to the side of the road and walked to the chamber. The afternoon sun was on the wrong side to shine into the chamber. It must happen only at dawn. She went inside and touched the back wall. This is crazy. He’s not coming back . She turned and went back to her car. So what if he was from the eighteenth century? Some things never changed. Sure, he found her attractive, but guys were too easily swayed. He was probably sitting right now—or right then—in the eighteenth-century equivalent of a sports bar with some buxom wench on his lap.
    “Oh, forget it,” she said as she got back into her car and drove down the road. “The main point is, he’s gone, and he’s not coming back.” She pulled into the driveway. Just suck it up, girl, and drown your sorrows in a pint of frozen fat-filled deliciousness .
    Hours later, an empty cardboard ice cream carton lay on its side, spoon still in it. The TV had gone on to the next film in the lineup, and Mac slept clutching her fluffy pillow and fuzzy blanket.
    *
    “Mac, lovely Mac. I’m sorry.”
    “For what?” she asked with a hint of a smile. Joy shone from her eyes, but sorrow darkened his.
    He took her face in his hands. A dim light caught his melancholy expression. “Look around you, my love.”
    Mac did as he said. They were surrounded by stone walls. It was too large for a stone chamber.
    Seeing her confusion, he said, “I’m locked inside here. I cannae come to you, lass.”
    “But I don’t understand. If I got in here to see you, you can come back out with me.”
    His mouth twitched as though wanting to smile. “Let me look at you, Mac.” He reached up, touched her hair gently, and combed his fingers through her hair from the nape of her neck. “Just remember how I love you.” He lowered his head, and his lips nearly touched hers. Then, like a vapor, he vanished.
    “Wait!” she called into the dark emptiness. “Ciarán!”
    *
    Still asleep, Mac moaned, troubled, but unable to move.
    “Mac!” He called to her from so far away.
    She tried to cry out, but no sound came. Abruptly, she opened her eyes and sat up. “Ciarán!” She could still feel his presence, as if she might touch him if she reached far enough. “Ciarán, come back to me.” But he would not come back. Somehow, he had found his way into her dreams to tell her. He could not come back.
    A sliver of light fell on an old book on the shelf: her mother’s collection of Scottish tales. Mac used to curl up with the stories as a girl. Perhaps that was when it began—this love of Scotland and its people. Her favorite was Kenneth MacKenzie, the Brahan Seer. She had often hoped that she, too, might have the second sight he was known for, but the only thing she had ever foreseen was her doom on a college exam. But that had more to do with seeing the inevitable result of