Sparks fly when tree surgeon, James Fraser first meet the editorial assistant for a London-based publishing company, Claire Beauchamp two days before Christmas. As they get to know each other, an intense fascination and attraction develop, and they spend a night in each other’s arms. After a mishap that nearly ended a promising start of a love affair, Claire decides to forgive and give Jamie and their new relationship another chance. Their new relationship is fragile and Claire, who is young, inexperienced in love, and has the world at her feet, is about to put his peaceful world upside down and his resilience to the test. It will not be easy as Jamie’s spirit is a little worse for wear after seeing his fair share of war conflicts as a soldier, resulting in him being diagnosed with PTSD. They both come from two different worlds, but they both have a past that connects them. Will their connection be enough to give their flimsy chance, hope for a brand-new future?
Part 1 All I Want For Christmas
Part 2 Miles Between Us
Part 3 Save The Date
Starting Over
Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, a promising surgeon with a bright future, is engaged to a successful and handsome Chief Consultant of the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, Frank Randall. Her closest friends, Geillis Duncan and Joe Abernathy, are not convinced that Frank is the man for her because of his controlling attitude. Claire has her own doubts already, and more confusion ensues when she crosses path with her long time crush, James Fraser.
James Fraser was Scotland’s Rugby Union best ever centre player until a back injury ended his career. Devastated with the turn of events and undecided what to do with his life, he turns to alcohol to numb his depression. After meeting Claire briefly in Lallybroch, he thought he would never see her again until one day, she literally drops from the sky and into his arms.
Forget Me Not
Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was orphaned at the age of five, and when her uncle Lamb died, the Frasers became her official foster family. Growing up as an outsider in the Highlands was never easy, and her teens proved to be equally challenging, especially when she fell in love with her foster brother, James Fraser’s best friend, Frank Randall.
When Claire returned as a beautiful full-grown woman to Lallybroch after years of pursuing her studies and travelling the world, she hoped this time around Frank Randall would finally notice her. But this time around, James Fraser was not going to stand back and watch as he did in his teens. This time around, James Fraser intends to win her heart even at the cost of his friendship with Frank.
Highland Destiny
Claire Beauchamp, widowed and 29 years old, knew she still had her life ahead of her. Determined to pick up the broken pieces of her dreams, she leaves Oxford behind to start a new life in the Scottish Highlands. When she crossed path with Jamie Fraser, he reignited within her hope, love and dreams.
A Passage In Time
(short story)
Claire Beauchamp and Jenny Fraser decided to attend the Samhain Festival at Craigh na Dun. But when Claire arrived, Jenny bailed on her the last minute, citing food poisoning as her excuse. When Jenny said her brother was coming in her place instead, Claire decided to stay. But something was unusual about Craigh na Dun, and she could feel it in her guts. It must have something to do with the ancient folklore or the incantation of the druid priestess or perhaps there was magic in the air.
Claire parked into an empty slot at the foothills of Craigh na Dun, the street and open fields packed with cars of stone circles, and Celtic feast days enthusiasts. Jenny, her college friend, mentioned there was a possibility they'd be able to observe a group of local druids dancing to the feast of Samhain. If the ritual hadn't started yet, it could be the highlight of her trip to Inverness.
Bonfires blazed everywhere, their glow lending the atmosphere an air of mystery and something akin to otherwordly. Old fashion looking lanterns hung on wooden posts, and white canopies strung with fairy lights gave the hills a magical atmosphere at this time of night. The sound of bodhran drum beating in the distance and the rush of wind rustling through the trees sent a chill down her spine. There was an unusual, low vibratory hum in her ears, causing a nervous stir in her stomach. It reminded her of a time when she'd gone ghost hunting with Jenny in St Sepulchre's Cemetery in Oxford, frightened out of her wits and very jumpy.
She was so on edge she nearly screamed when the pocket of her coat buzzed. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! She quickly unbuckled her seat belt and fumbled for her phone, hoping it was Jenny. Her friend always came a little earlier than Claire and was usually impatiently and grumpily waiting for her in the wings.
"Claire! I'm so sorry I'm no' gonnae make it. I think I have food poisoning and my tummy isnae right, but I asked my brother to meet ye next to the biggest stone at Craigh na Dun. He's got ginger curls, and he's tall, and his name is Jamie. I ken ye didnae want to be alone. I hope ye dinnae mind my brother coming instead." Jenny's and her definition of tall differed. Whereas tall in Claire's books was above six foot, anyone that towered over her petite friend was considered massive to Jenny.
"Oh, Jen!" Claire wailed, hitting her steering wheel with the palm of her hand. Without her friend, she really didn't want to do this now, but it had taken her over an hour to drive up here.
"So sorry hen. Please don't bail on my brother. He's going to be there soon. Ohhhh, God ...going to be sick ...bye."
Claire stared at her phone, and her stomach turned. Maybe, like Jen, she was coming down with food poisoning too. The way her insides was churning, it really was beginning to seem that way. "Fucking great," she mumbled miserably to herself. "I didn't even fix my hair, and I don't even have a smidgen of makeup. I just hope her brother is not that cute."
She peered at the mirror and fluffed her chocolate curls. Her face was nice enough, she supposed, looking at her thoughtful amber eyes, full lips and arched eyebrows. As she found more faults in her face, she sighed wishing she had lipstick in her purse, but nought could be done and how she looked will have to do.
She took deep cleansing breaths, mustered all the social courage she had, and stepped out of her car. The wind suddenly picked up and caressed her cheeks with cold breeze fingers. She was glad she wore sensible clothes, grateful for the warmth of the turtle-neck cable knit jumper, fitted jeans, hiking boots and down jacket.
Looking up towards the hill, she realised she wasn't far off and could see the tips of the stone circles and people milling about dressed in traditional garb and period costumes. She skipped over some shallow pools and trudged up the incline, pulling down her knitted hat to cover her ears. The hill was fairly steep, so she took a few stops to catch her breath as it wouldn't be a nice look to greet Jenny's brother panting like forge bellows. He would probably get the wrong idea if that ever happened. Ugh!
She looked towards the top of the hill as she rested and realised she didn't have far to go and the standing stones looked, even more, impressive from where she stood. Her eyes landed on the biggest of them all, and her heart skipped a beat. Something had moved from behind the stone and disappeared through the cluster of trees! She held her breath and peered hard, to make sure she wasn't mistaken. Yes! There it is ...a tall shadow!
Claire's heart started to pound so hard, she thought it might burst out of her ribcage. Was that a ghost? The ritual hadn't begun yet, and she was already spooked out of her wits. But she immediately felt silly when the shadow stepped out from behind the tree and motioned to her. He was waving and smiling. It took a few heartbeats for her to register that he was tall, had ginger curls and was dressed in eighteenth-century Highland garb. Ah, that must be Jamie!
She shyly waved back at the man, who grinned at her as if she was an old friend. When he beckoned to her again, her blood rushed between her ears, and she felt dampness under her arms. What's the matter, Beauchamp? Watching too many horror films lately? She swallowed down her nervousness, and she stared harder. He seemed friendly and didn't look surprised to see her. Actually, he looked eager to meet her. She scolded herself for letting her imagination run wild and continued her ascent, almost laughing out loud at her childish reaction.
When she finally reached the top, she looked around. There were quite a lot of people waiting for the Samhain ritual to start, but there were no signs of Jenny's brother. The balefires lit the standing stones in wavering lights, sending shadows scurrying across the grounds and making the whole setting looked like it jumped out of the Old World. She quickly scanned her surroundings, trying to imagine what it might look like under sunlight so as not to dwell too much on her nervousness.
Making her way around the stones, she weaved in and out of throngs of revellers while straining her eyes to look for a tall ginger-haired man. The drum continued to beat, and the cameras clicked nearby, the clash of old and new unsettling Claire further. In the middle of the circle, dressed in a druid costume, stood a gorgeous girl, her red hair wild and loose. She spoke to the crowd about extraordinary people that had a rare ability to hear the stones, seeking its passageway that led to another time.
Claire didn't stop and continued to walk, determined to find Jenny's brother as she listened to the druid girl's chanting. The people huddled closer as they listened to the solemn incantation, either seeking warmth from neighbouring bodies or straining to hear. Claire examined the faces, searching for someone that could be her friend's brother, but her skin crawled when she realised there was no tall red-head. Who was the man in the shadow, then?
"We call upon the Old Ones known before the measure of time, some named and yet forgotten! Who would bless us with their energies of love and care! Harmonious to our nature, n' the energies of cosmic creation to cast this circle! We create and bind this Sacred Space with Sacred Love and Sacred Trust! To protect those we love and cherish within and without. N' to focus through our will in this space out of time, between worlds for the making of Majick! The Circle is now cast! So mote it be!"
The wind suddenly stilled, and Claire could tell the crowd also felt the sudden change in the air.
"We Summon You and Call you Forth! O' Ancient Ones, of Thought and Sound! Rising, moving in concentration, this seasons night in clear still air, vibrations felt, clear, resounding, in the sound of drums pounding, of Life's Breath and Heartfelt Love! Come be with us this Seasons Night. Join us in our Holy Rite, O' Ancient Ones of Power."
Suddenly, the lantern in the druid girl's hand flickered and puffed out, and the crowd drew in a sharp intake of breaths.
"What was that?" somebody shouted out.
The druid girl holding the lantern shushed everyone patiently. "It's only the spirit of the ancient ones communicating with us. Dinnae be afraid. Playing with light is their way to make his or her presence known. Please remain calm. This spirit is benevolent. I have a good sense about these things."
Even though a part of her thought it was all for show, Claire couldn't help but feel the shift in the air, as a shiver crawled up her back, making every hair on her body rise.
A cold hand brushed her own, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. Even though she didn't want to look, her body had a mind of its own and turned around. She opened her eyes and swallowed hard, and was relieved and surprised to see a handsome ruddy face with intense blue eyes and ginger curls smiling down at her.
"I beg yer pardon, mistress. It was no' my intention to frighten ye. I only wanted to introduce myself' and see what all the fuss was about."
"J-Jamie?"
He bowed down, one arm swooping elegantly in a semi-circle. "James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, at yer service. Please call me James."
She stifled a giggle knowing it was part of an act for the Samhain festivity.
The red-head girl in the circle glared at Claire. "Lass, yer screams will no' make the spirits want to speak. If ye're too frightened, go somewhere else, if ye please."
Heat crept up Claire's face as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "I'm so sorry I got carried away. I'll go now." She turned away from the circle and made her way down the hill.
"Wait, mistress, please! Dinnae let that druid priestess ruin yer evening," he said, grabbing her wrist and still speaking in his Old World accent. "There are other pleasing things to see than listen to her chant."
Claire stopped on her tracks and smiled shyly, swiping a loose curl away from her face. "I bet there are. It was beginning to get too spooky for me. Maybe you could show me around?" she suggested.
James laughed out loud, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he offered her his arm. "Weel, mistress, ye are in luck. It is but my good fortune ye are in need of a person to accompany ye, for I am in need of a fair lass on my arm. Come, let us leave this over-crowded place, and I will give ye a personal and less embellished, account of Craigh na Dun ."
Claire blushed profusely as she wound her arm into his. She was grateful for the darkness of the night, concealing her scarlet face. Although his eighteenth-century Highland accent was spot on, she wished he would cut out the play-acting. He had a languid air about him that put her at ease, and the magical Victorian vibe got her in a romantic mood. Under her tentative hand, his Highland garb felt unusually coarse, and a little cold but his arm was firm and strong underneath the wool fabric of his tartan.
As they made their way down the hill, James turned his face to her, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "Ye never mentioned what I should call ye, and I think mistress will grow bothersome."
Odd that Jenny never mentioned my name to her brother.
Claire stifled a girlish giggle. "Sorry. I'm not so good at socialising. I tend to forget to do polite things like introducing myself and refraining from screaming in people's faces. My name's Claire ...Claire Beauchamp."
James chuckled, the sound coming from him throaty and deep. "Ach, ye screaming was entirely my blunder. I shouldnae have snuck up on a lass in a dark of the night. It was highly improper of me. I like the name Claire by the way ... it's Sorcha in Gaelic. Both roll off the tongue easily."
The way he said her name made her shiver in pleasure, like speaking her first name was an act of foreplay. It sounded beautiful coming from his mouth, like a poet from the olden times reciting an ode. As awkward as Claire felt she was, Jamie didn't notice and seemed to enjoy her company immensely. She could swear from the bottom of her heart, he blushed like a boy.
"Ye have an unusual way of speaking," James added, as they navigated the rocky hill. "But I like the sound of yer voice. But I must admit yer clothes are quite unusual too. I think I'm going to call ye, Sassenach."
"Oh!" she breathed. "What does that mean?"
"It simply means ye are an outlander, a stranger from a faraway place if ye will."
"Oh, that's alright then. As long as it doesn't mean anything bad."
"It's not bad at all, Sassenach, not bad at all."
James helped her down from a steep drop and led her towards a tent. There was a blazing bonfire, and an antique-looking lantern hanging from the post outside. Taking in her surroundings, she realised they were further away from the rest of the shelters and the crowd.
Once inside, she noticed the tent didn't look anything like she had seen before, but it looked strong and kept them warm from the outside elements. The floor was covered in the same material as the tent, and there were a couple of comfortable, high backed chairs covered in sheepskin and a small dark stained wood as the table. The oil lamp hung from above, illuminating the space in a soft glow. In the far end was a simple cot, covered in sheepskin as well, the sight of it making her blush.
He guided her towards the chair, pulling it in an invitation. Once she was seated, he took the chair facing her. "Ye must be parched and hungry. I'm begging yer pardon for presuming as I couldnae help but hear the grumble in yer belly."
Claire nodded and smiled. "In fact, I am, and there's no need to apologise. I haven't eaten all day, and if I'm entirely honest, I could eat a scabby dog."
He laughed out loud, and she noticed his eyes crinkling at the sides. His whole face lit up when he smiled, as though it was naturally part of his expression. "Ah, a lass after my own heart. I think I might have just the thing to soothe those hunger pangs." He looked at her with mischief in his eyes, and she bowed her head to hide the blush. "I hope ye like the Highland's fare. Not many travellers in this part of Scotland favour what we have to offer."
Claire grinned. "Don't worry. I can eat anything. Actually, this is not my first time here, and I do like the local food. They're so wholesome and delicious. When you've travelled to places like Egypt and the Middle Americas like me, you become accustomed to trying something new."
James's eyes widened. "Egypt and the Middle Americas? Ye've been to the New World! Ye must be a great adventurer. Unfortunately, I am not as seasoned-travelled as ye. I've been to France as a young lad, to study Latin, Greek and Philosophy."
"Oh! I've only been briefly in Paris. I've lived a semi-nomadic life with my uncle, you see, but I've settled down now in Oxford to study medicine."
James looked impressed. "Women in yer part of the world are very fortunate to be allowed to study, and from what I know, medicine is only meant for the sharpest mind. Here in Scotland, women stay at home and cook and care for the bairns."
She was about to admonish him for that remark, but she stopped. She reminded herself it was all part of the act, so she changed the subject. "Maybe, one day you'll visit Oxford, and I can show you my parents' hometown," she suggested, crossing her fingers under the table.
"Perhaps one day. As I said, I dinnae travel much, and this small sphere of the world comprises the extent of my life. I dinnae meet strangers often, so my manners might be slightly lacking. In fact, I believe I've forgotten all about the food I offered. Excuse my behaviour, it is a rarity I am in a company of a bonnie lass." He held her gaze and leaned in, propping his elbows on the table.
She tried not to gawk at the way his tartan hugged his body in just the right way. He was much too handsome and dashing to be flirting with her.
He shook his head as if he had to clear it. Perhaps his thoughts were drifting, and he was seeing her in a different light. When he stared into Claire's eyes, he made her feel desirable and alluring for the very first time in her life. And the way he leaned towards her and stared at her lips, caused butterflies to flutter in her belly.
She'd never met anyone who carried themselves like him. She was starting to think his chivalrous and courteous manner wasn't an act. She believed deep down, he was a very charming man with unusual humour. Even though she knew he was acting to suit the mood with his period costume and accent, she was beginning to find it endearing and adorable.
Suddenly he stood up. "Pardon me, Sassenach. I will arrange something for us to eat. I shan't be long."
She nodded and smiled up at him, as she made a mental note, to ask Jenny more about her handsome brother. He was unusual, that's true but in a delightful kind of way. He was at ease with himself and had such an open and inviting manner, unlike most of the men she met, jaded and carrying a lot of hangups.
A few minutes later, a woman in an old fashioned white apron over a dark grey dress and a bonnet came through the opening followed by James. She had a grandmotherly air about her, kind and cuddly. "G' evening, mistress," she greeted, curtsying low and smiling broadly. "A fine All Hallows' Eve to ye. I will be bringing some food in no time, but for the meantime, I brought a flask of whisky to warm up yer cockles."
James took the flask and a couple of pewter from the elderly woman's hands. "Thank ye, Mistress Fitzgibbons. Very kind of ye."
The woman curtsied, and once again, they were alone.
"I hope ye like whisky, Sassenach. It will warm yer belly until the food comes," he said, pouring a whisky in each of the vessels.
"I like anything alcoholic when its this cold. Thank Christ for whisky in this part of the world." She took the pewter of whisky he handed her and took a whiff. It was very unlike any whisky she'd seen and smelled, but it was peaty, just how she liked it.
James sat back down. "I must admit I am overly delighted ye have decided to come with me instead of watching the rituals of Samhain. I've seen it loads of times and having ye as a company is indeed a refreshing change. After we've eaten, perhaps we can take a walk under the moonlight, and by then the people in Craigh na Dun would be long gone. Mistress Fitzgibbons will surely feed us well with rich food and ale, so our energy does not wane. If that's alright with ye ..."
Claire's breath hitched. She was surprised he wanted to spend more time with her. When she realised she hadn't answered him, she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I'm... I'm just shocked. I hardly know you, but it seems you are determined to spend time with me. It's just that these things don't normally happen to me. I'd love to, of course, to take a walk under the moonlight."
James frowned. "Well, I must admit I was unusually forward, but I thought we had a connection. It's like I've known ye for many lifetimes, and I would like to understand more about this connection. But permitting me to treat ye to an All Hallows' walk around Craigh na Dun is not the main object of my attention. I guess I should be forthright about that, now, so ye can make an educated choice to leave or stay."
Oh sweet Mother of God, is he trying to seduce me? She was not the type of person to jump into bed with anyone after the first meeting, no matter how handsome her date was. But the warmth of the tent, the sparkle reflected in James's eyes and the promise of adventure tugged at her heart. So she decided to do a little play-acting herself. "I hope you don't have any dishonourable intentions, kind sir. Perhaps it's high time I remind you that I am a lady."
His cheeks turned bright scarlet. "Oh, Sassenach, no. Ye have mistaken my intentions. I wasnae talking about…" he cleared his throat, tugging at his scarf, "about…" he leaned forward and whispered, "physical amusement."
This time it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Oh, dear, I'm reading this all wrong, aren't I?
He took a deep breath, obviously unhappy about giving her the idea she was a one night stand. He leaned forward, again, this time, he reached out for her hand, and she didn't pull away when she felt the warmth of his grasp. His muscles were strong underneath the skin, firm and calloused from manual work. She liked the fact that he had a worker's hands and a gentleman's manner.
"It isnae my intention to treat ye like anything other than a fine lady, Sassenach." He took a deep breath and brushed her hand with the tips of his fingers, making her heart do multiple cartwheels. Maybe she was affected because she'd never had a man look at her the way James was doing now. "My intention tonight is not to win yer very sumptuous person but to have a long conversation with ye under the moonlight. In hopes, by the end of the evening, ye will not wish to return to whence ye came from, and will, in the future, come back to me."
Claire's logical, modern head was screaming warnings. Get a grip, Beauchamp, he's just acting like this for the night. In the morning, he will be himself again, and what if you don't like that person?
She didn't have an answer and was thankful for the return of Mistress Fitzgibbons, balancing a huge tray filled with food in both hands. When the feast was laid out on the table, Claire's mouth watered as her stomach grumbled loudly enough to make the elderly woman grin.
James thanked Mistress Fitzgibbons before she turned around to go. His eyes were dancing playfully as the woman left them and sighed, "Ach to be young and in love…"
James grinned. "Let us eat, drink and be merry and not worry about later. Yer decision about agreeing to accompany an undeserving stranger can wait until after the victuals."
They had a pleasant meal of clootie dumpling, apple frushie, cranachan, scones, and almond cake, barely talking, only to compliment the fare. Instead of tea or coffee to wash down the sweet treats, they were served with warm ale. It was unusual, but it did not taste bad at all, probably too hungry to care.
When she groaned her pleasure, sampling all the food, he winked at her. "See, we are already making memories and connections."
She nodded her head playfully as she stuffed an almond cake into her mouth. Everything was so good, and nothing tasted pre-packaged or stale. It all had the homemade taste of ingredients measured by eye and mixed by hand.
By the end of the feast, they sat back in their seats, sated and glowing from the warmth in the tent. Claire sighed and downed the last of her ale from a beaker. "Okay, I guess I'll have to accompany you for a little bit longer if only to walk off everything I just ate."
He chuckled, his eyes lighting up boyishly. Damn! "I'm looking forward to it, Sassenach and I'm delighted ye accepted my invitation."
Claire had no fight left in her. James was so sweet, his blue eyes always playful, and his conversation light but entertaining. She wanted to spend the evening with him, even if it meant the play-acting was set aside, and the man of her dreams evaporated into thin air by tomorrow morning.
"Shall we go, Sassenach?" he asked quietly, interrupting her reverie and offering her his arm.
She nodded and stood up, slipping her hand under the warmth of his arm.
By the time they'd left the tent, the wind was calm, and the air didn't feel as cold. Claire put it down to the food, ale and whisky she'd consumed and her company. She noticed there weren't as many people compared to earlier, but the few that were left were scattered around campfires. They walked past a group of men in their Highland costumes, complete with dirks and swords. One was stood in the middle, preparing to tell a tale of the waterhorse of Loch Garve. Men and women gathered around, looking for the perfect spot. When Jamie gestured if she wanted to listen, she nodded.
They sat further away from the campfire as James took off his plaid and laid it on the ground for her to sit on. With the boulder behind them, they leaned back and sat side by side, his thigh touching hers.
Claire turned to Jamie. "There are few things I love more than waiting for a play or a story to begin," she whispered.
James' arched an eyebrow. "Is that so? Why?"
She shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Look at everyone ...they are excited but quiet, hopeful but a little uncertain. It introduces a particular mood and air, you know? Like we're all preparing for an experience or adventure if you will. There's nothing else like it. Instead of reading a book, we get to be in it, but not so much a part of it we are not ourselves. We are away from risks and threats. We are safe but affected, and changed. The storytelling is part of that, but really, the mood a storyteller set is the most important part."
He stared at her intently, his body so intuned with hers, she forgot their surrounding. "Ah, Sassenach, ye are a poet. That is precisely accurate. That is how I feel right now, and every time I sit down to listen to stories of the old. And All Hallows' is particularly ripe for atmosphere, do ye not agree? The wind, the fire…"
"The feeling of someone watching you and ghosts just around the corner?" Claire added, getting caught up.
James chuckled. "Ach, Sassenach, what is a ghost really? I am no' frightened of spirits, and do ye want to know why?"
Claire had been terrified of evil spirits and ghosts ever since she watched The Exorcist. So she nodded, wanting to know how anyone could not be afraid of the possibility of a haunting.
"Weel, I am flesh and blood. I am my eyes, my smile and the work I do." He motioned to himself. "But I am also spirit, that immaterial element no one else can claim, and I am anything but frightening. All my ghost would be is me, without the shell. That which makes me me, but less substantially in the world, am I right?"
Claire smiled as she the digested his words, "Well, yes, but you are a wonderful soul. Not every person is. As a woman, I've met my fair share of men with truly terrible spirits. If they die, I wouldn't want them lurking about."
Jame's eyes twinkled. "You are very shrewd, Sassenach. My ma and pa are going to love ye. Maybe if ye are inclined, I'll introduce ye to them after our walk ... that's if my spirit has no' scared ye off, that is…" He waggled his brows and made a funny face.
She slapped his arm and laughed, but her laughter died when she caught him looking at her. For the first time, Claire really looked into Jamie's eyes instead of avoiding it shyly. The smile in them remained, even when his face took on a more serious look. They stared at each other, locked in an intense moment, before turning their attention back to the storyteller. How could that one stare make me feel like I'm spiralling out of control and into love? Love? Where the hell did that come from?
"Claire?"
Her heart started to beat as he inched closer and put an arm around her shoulder. "Yes?" she squeaked, unable to look, afraid she would not be able to resist him. But when a finger touched her chin, she was forced to look once more into his beautiful blue eyes.
"Do ye mind if I kiss ye? Because if I don't, I think I'll die, and I'll regret it for the rest of eternity."
Her heart and mind had been playing tug-of-war for the last couple of minutes, but the way he asked and stared at her lips became her undoing. "No, I don't mind at all," she whispered. "But do you think ..."
His lips swooped down upon hers, smothering her words with the sweetest kiss and extracting a soft moan from her mouth. One firm hand gripped her waist and the other moulded to the back of her head, pulling her gently against him.
She hadn't expected to be kissed today nor to fall in love in the brief time they'd spent together. But his mouth was warm, soft, intoxicating, and all-consuming. She lost track of time and place as everything suddenly seemed to spin out of focus and control, only aware of the movement of his lips and his hands sliding up and down her back.
When they broke their kiss, she stared at him for the longest time, and it was as if she was looking through him for a moment like he was a malfunctioning hologram.
"James?" She gripped his arms in panic, but he felt solid enough, though ice cold.
"I'm here, Sassenach," he whispered.
Why does his voice sound distant? She turned her head to take in her surroundings, and a chill shook her body. Everything looked odd, like a double-exposed photograph. On the misty surface was a more modern, brighter, lighter version of the hillside, and underneath sat the darker, dirtier, more romantic version of this place.
Suddenly, she felt nauseating fear, her eyes focusing and unfocusing like she was losing grip of reality. The twin pictures swam together in a confusing pattern before her eyes. She turned to James, and it was like she was looking at a ghost of the man she loved.
"James, please don't leave me!" She reached out to him at the same time he reached out to her, but she only grasped air.
"Sassenach!" he called out, his voice was the barest of a whisper, and then just like that, he was gone.
Her surrounding was one big whirlwind around her, images rushing and a loud buzzing sound echoing in her ears. Unable to cope anymore, her eyes closed and she fell to the ground.
..........
"Lass, are ye alright?" Claire felt a gentle hand on her cheek, and she sat up, abruptly.
"James!" She gasped, hoping for a sign of him. She was confused at the sight of unfamiliar faces peering down at her.
The red-headed girl looked worried. "Did ye come with a friend, lass? I thought I saw ye alone. Ye screamed and passed out, but everything is fine now, hen. There was a spirit, a benevolent one, but I think he's gone. I'm afraid ye might have scared him off. Do ye feel like ye can stand?"
Claire ran a hand at the back of her head, deeply confused. She stared around her and was shocked to find a few people encircling her. She shook her head vigorously, probably in an attempt to shake off the cobwebs in her brain. "Where's James?"
People around her muttered and murmured to each other, and the words "fainted," "hit her head," "concussion" reached her ears.
She was about to stand and tell them her head was fine when the pocket of her jacket vibrated. She pulled out her phone and was surprised to see it caked with mud. She swiped the screen to read the message from Jenny.
OMG. I'm so sorry, Claire. Jamie called and said he's on his way. He fell asleep and forgot the time. He said he'd be there soon. Please don't be mad at me. So sorry!
What the hell? Could Jamie and James be the same person? She didn't think so. It had to be coincident.
Claire leaned against the boulder to get a foothold and stood as the red-headed girl helped her up. "Do ye feel better now?"
She muttered she was fine and gave the girl a weak smile hoping, they would leave her alone.
"If ye need anything, just ask for Geillis. That's my name. I'll be over there in the third tent selling some t-shirts," the girl offered, her face still looking worried.
"Thank you," Claire whispered hoarsely. "I'm alright now. I must have passed out because I haven't eaten anything all day. I'll go and get something to eat and drink."
To her relief, Geillis nodded and walked away, followed by the rest of the crowd. Claire stayed where she was, totally confounded by the recent event. James had to be real, or I am going nuts. It had to have happened because I could still feel his lips against mine.
"James, where are you?" she whispered to the cold air, wiping away the tears that now streamed down her face.
She was about to go when a hand touched her elbow. "Excuse me miss, Are ye Claire Beauchamp?"
Her heart hammered against her ribs at the sound of the familiar voice. Slowly she turned around. "James?" she whispered.
The modern version of James grinned and extended a hand. Gone was his Highland garb and in its place were a sweatshirt under a leather jacket and jeans. "It's Jamie, everyone calls me Jamie," he greeted. "And I'm so sorry, I'm late. I fell asleep and had the strangest dream. But never mind that. Are ye hungry? Shall we go for something to eat? I havenae had anything to eat all day."
Her mouth opened, closed and opened again, unable to string words to form a sentence. When she finally was able to speak again, all she could do was give Jamie her best smile and take his offered hand. "Nice to meet you, Jamie. Ummm ...have we met before? You look someone I know."
He smiled, and his eyes twinkled. "Ah, I was gonnae asked the same thing. Ye look very familiar. How about we talk about it over a glass of ale?"
Before she could answer, he offered his arms, and he looked delighted when she took it. "Sounds like a grand idea," she said, her heart beating a million miles per hour and she wondered if he could hear it. "Do you know by any chance where we can eat some clootie pudding?"
He laughed out loud. "I know just the place, Sassenach. I know just the place."
And he led her to the same spot where James had taken her, but this time, the tent was much bigger, filled with people drinking and eating. Taking her hand in his, he guided her inside. She was about to point an empty table when he leaned down to her ears and whispered, "By the way, Happy Halloween to ye, Sasssenach. I have a feeling this is going to be the best Halloween ever."
She smiled and off they went to celebrate her first Samhain festivity.
