Laird of the Mist Read Online Free PDF Page A

before he comes. He can see right through anyone. He can give you the medical attention you need, and I can get some sleep. I have to be up at dawn tomorrow and I have no more time for this foolishness.‖
―Well then, mo cridhe. ‖ Carrick smiled gently and looked deeply into Cat‘s eyes, green as Scotland‘s mountains. ―Ye should ha‘ no problem with the dawn. Ye ever were a delight in the morning.‖
―Oh, hell and damnation.‖ Cat started toward the staircase. ―Just go sit down and wait for grandda. Damn,‖ Cat solidly cursed her way up the stairs to wake her grandfather and explain.
―Aw, Jenny.‖ Carrick chuckled, ―Ye were ever the challenge. Ye havena changed a bit!‖
Chapter Four
    ―W hat in heaven‘s name is he still doing here?‖ Cat stood rigidly in the deck‘s doorway, outraged at the sight of her grandfather enjoying what appeared to be an amiable breakfast with Carrick.―What the hell is going on here?‖
    ―Now Caitriona…‖ Her grandfather began to rise from his chair. ―Just calm yerself, lass. That is no way to speak about our guest.‖
―Our guest?‖ Cat snapped with a backward step. ―Guest! You must be joking! And I suppose you fixed him breakfast, too?‖
Hamish MacPhail put a friendly hand on Carrick‘s shoulder and leaned to whisper in his ear. ―I told ye she‘d be furious. Back in a minute. Enjoy yer food, lad.‖
Carrick smiled and nodded as Hamish made his way to Cat, stretching an arm around her waist.
―Aye, I gave him food. The poor man was starving near to death. We can be hospitable, Cat, surely. After all, he is a MacDonald, as are we. Come now,‖ he said, leading her back into the house.―Let‘s have a little chat.‖
―But...‖ Cat began as Hamish pulled out a kitchen chair for her.―I don‘t understand, granddda. What is going on? Is he injured or not?‖
―Now, Caitriona,‖ he answered as he sat at the table with her. ―Ye need to calm yerself and listen. No, he isna injured at all. He is a healthy, braw man with nowhere to go.‖
Cat‘s eyes widened in disbelief.―Nowhere to go? Surely he has friends or someone in the area. He‘s a reenactor from the games. You can check with the Caledonian Society or Clan Donald and find out who he is. And I don‘t buy the amnesia bit, either.‖
Hamish reached for her hand and let out a sigh.―Nay, Cat, he hasna got the amnesia. And he hasna a soul in this time or place, I assure ye. He is a good and decent sort. I spent all the night talking with him. Ye must trust me in this. I intend to help him. ―
Cat stood up abruptly.―Help him? Help him go home, yes. And what do you mean, in this time and place?‖
Hamish steeled himself. He knew his fiery granddaughter well.―He is a time-traveler, Cat. He came here to find ye.‖
―He‘s a what?‖ Cat laughed. ―You are as daft as he is! There is no such thing as time-travel.‖
―Aye, Cat.‖ Hamish grew serious.―There is such a thing. ‗Tis a tricky business, granted, but ‗tis true. I knew a traveler when I was a young man back home. In my town, we all knew it was a reality. And that is how Carrick came to us.‖
―Right, and he traveled here to find me?‖ Cat smirked at him.―So you‘re telling me he is a kind of time-traveling stalker, are you? Granddda, you are a doctor, a man of science. You know better. This is ridiculous nonsense.‖
―I‘m afraid not, Cat,‖ Hamish answered emphatically.―I would ask ye to hear his story before ye pass judgment. ‗Tis all I ask, Cat.‗Tis a remarkable tale.‖
―I‘ll just bet it is. Fine.‖ Cat wanted an end to this insanity.―If I listen to what he has to say, can we then be rid of him? I don‘t plan to harbor a mad man forever.‖
―I‘ll make no bargains with ye, lass.‖ Hamish smiled patiently.―This is my home as well, and he has no place to go. I‘ll no toss him out in a strange time. He‘d no survive a week.‖
Exasperated, Cat started toward the door.―I give up.‖ She raised