My Heart's in the Highlands by Angeline Fortin (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

“That’s too bad,” Kris said mournfully. “Tellme he at least has an accent.”

“He does.”

“Now I’m jealous.” Kris paused. “Can you getpics?”

With a honk, Myles pulled to a stop on theopposite curb and got out of his car. He waved an arm and Mikahheld up a finger. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you later,okay?”

“I’ll be waiting and you better be a goodgirl,” Kris warned. “Your dream man might not like you messingaround on him.”

Mikah rolled her eyes, pushing aside theguilt that was niggling at the back of her mind, as if Mikahwere being unfaithful to her dream man by going out to dinner withthe handsome curator. “I regret ever telling you about that.”

“You know I love you.”

“I know,” Mikah said, darting a quick lookdown the street to her left before stepping out into the street todash across the four lanes of traffic between her and Myles. “Ilove y—”

The words were cut off with a startled cry asa long series of honks to her right reminded Mikah abruptly thatthe traffic would be coming from the other direction. Cars swervedaround her, wheels squealing and horns blaring.

“Mikes!” Kris shouted.

One car that continued to come straight ather caught Mikah. Like a deer in the headlights, she could onlystare in horror.

It sped toward her.

It galloped toward her?

Wait! Were those … horses?

“Mikes!” Kris shouted again, in thebackground.

The world went dark.

Chapter Two

“Lass? Lassie!” a gravelly brogue cut throughher unconsciousness. “Are ye all right?”

Mikah blinked her eyes and stared up at thefaces surrounding her, trying but failing to focus on any one ofthem. Stars burst painfully in front of her eyes and she squeezedher eyes shut again, raising a hand to her temple. “I don’t thinkso,” she murmured, but even that little effort felt like it wouldsplit her skull.

“My lady!” a new voice broke through the hazethat surrounded her and Mikah cracked her lids apart to squint atthe newcomer, a youngish man in a red coat and black hat who lookedlike a cross between a member of the British Royal Guard and anequestrian rider. He pushed through the crowd surrounding her andcame quickly to her side, kneeling next to her.

He was followed by a young woman in a graydress, who also dropped down at Mikah’s side. “My lady, are you allright? I couldn’t believe my eyes when that wagon ran into you,then went on as if nothing were amiss!”

“I don’t … I’m not …” Mikah stuttered,letting them pull her to a sitting position but then staringblankly at the red-jacketed man and the woman in the long dress.“Who are you?”

“Och, but the lass must have taken a blow tothe head!” the older man to her left declared, drawing herattention. He was dressed in rough clothing of browns and blacksand wore a day’s growth of gray beard and a cap on his thinninghair.

“Do I know you?” she couldn’t stop herselffrom asking, even though the effort brought further pain to hertemple and she tried to rub it away. She heard Kris’s panic echoingin her mind. Where was her phone?

“I think the question, lass, is whether yeknow who ye are,” he said in his thick brogue.

“Of course, I do,” she answered immediately.“I’m Mikah …”

Mikah halted with a frown, for that seemedsuddenly wrong, though she couldn’t understand why. She was MikahBauer, no doubt about that, but at the same time, she wasn’t. Itmade no sense at all and merely made her head hurt more tocontemplate the incongruity, so she just shook her head.

Taking her head shake for a negative, theolder man grunted as if his theory had been confirmed, but theyounger woman, seeming eager to please, said, “This is Lady HeroConagham.”

“The old Conagham of Ayr’s widow?” one of thecrowd asked, and the young man nodded in confirmation.

“Thought she were down in Lundun these days,”the old man argued. “Been over a year since the old laird died.What’s she doin’ up ‘ere now?”

“Step aside!” A new voice rang out over thechatter of the onlookers. It was a deep, aristocratic burr, unlikethe comfortable brogue of those around Mikah, yet it held enoughauthority that the spectators parted immediately, allowing thenewcomer to come to her side. “Lady Ayr,” he said. “Are you quiteall right? I thought we were to meet you at the train station and…”

“It’s you,” Mikah whispered, staring up intothe man’s handsome face as he bent over her. His words staggered toa halt as he looked down at her in surprise.

Mikah gazed intently at the handsome manhovering over her. It was him. The man who had haunted her dreamsher entire life and most recently with unimaginable passion. He wasat once both familiar and foreign. She wanted to look him over, tomemorize every detail before he faded away, but she couldn’t tearher gaze from his. Deep chocolaty brown, warm and mesmerizing, hiseyes were filled with concern and more than enough surprise tomatch her own. Finally, Mikah asked the question she had longwondered about: “Who are you?”

“She doesn’t seem to know anyone, my lord,”the woman in the long dress offered nervously. “Not even me.”

“It’s all right,” the man replied withouttaking his attention away from Mikah. “We hadn’t met before so, inthis case, it’s a valid question. My lady, I am Ian Conagham.”

His voice became slow and demanding, as hetried to gain her attention. Though she hadn’t stopped looking athim, he seemed to sense that her attention had moved beyond him, asif she’d mentally drifted away from the crowd surrounding her.Perhaps she had. In her dreams, this man had always been blurred,hazy. Now he was right in front of her and was incrediblyalive.

The crowd eased back with a murmur akin toawe that was apparent even to Mikah’s mulled brain, though heignored them all. “We need to get you out of the street,” he said.“Can you rise?”

“Home,” Mikah muttered, surprising herself inthe process. It was if a voice inside of her had forced its wayout. This certainly wasn’t her first thought. The part of her mindthat wasn’t wallowing in pain was focused on touching him, findingout if he