Wild Highland Rose (Time Travel Trilogy, Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

swords the men he ' d encountered earlier brandished, he couldn ' t be certain if it was the snore of a friend or foe.
    Sitting up slowly, ignoring the accompanying dizzy feeling, he searched the bedclothes for a weapon of some sort.  Not surprisingly the most lethal thing he encountered was a pillow.  As a weapon, feathers lacked a great deal, but surely it was better than nothing.  Holding it in front of him, shield - like, he peered out into the room, trying to locate the source of the noise.  The bed curtain to his right moved inward with an unseen breeze.  It seemed he had found his quarry.
    Moving as silently as possible, he reached for the curtain, drawing the pleated material aside.  Surprise accompanied a wave of relief.  An elderly woman nestled quite comfortably in a chair by the bed.  As she audibly breathed, a strand of white hair moved up and down against her cheek.
    Releasing the pillow, he leaned back, his relief quickly turning to exhaustion.  Whatever was happening to him, his injuries were real, and he was grateful for the bed, and, at the moment, the woman.
    Her cheeks were a ruddy red that made him think of overripe apples.  She was wrinkled with age, but the lines were soft and only added character to what was still a beautiful face.  Her skin was thin, almost translucent, blue veins apparent along her throat and hands.
    Whoever she was, she ' d once been a beauty.
    The woman opened her eyes.  They were an odd crystalline blue, the color one imagined an iceberg.  They sparkled in the light.  She seemed unaware of him, her movements the calculated stretches of aging, bones and muscles missing the elasticity of youth.
    With a soft sigh, she turned toward him, drawing back suddenly when he shifted, obviously surprised.  " I'm sorry, I'd no idea ye were awake. "
    He struggled for something to say, the myriad of questions circling through his head each fighting to become words.  " Where am I? " It seemed the most relevant question.  One that hopefully would clear everything up.  Maybe even help him remember.
    " Yer safe in yer bed at Crannag Mhór. "
    Or maybe not.
    Crannag Mhór was definitely not a name — hell not even words — he ' d heard before.  It was more like gibberish.  He struggled for recognition, and found none.  Truth was, he ' d never heard of the place. Which in and of itself would have been all right, except for the small fact that she ' d said he was safe in his bed.
    " It ' s not my bed. " As statements went it probably wasn ' t the strongest.  But it went straight to the point, and just at the moment that seemed to be the best he could do.
    The woman gently pushed Cameron back down into the pillows.  "There now, of course it is.  Yer just a wee bit addled.  ' Twas quite a blow on the head ye had, and ye need yer rest still."
    Cameron eyed her suspiciously.  She still hadn't met his gaze.  " I don ' t want to rest. "   He sounded like a petulant child, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.  " Tell me who you are. "
    "I'm Grania Macpherson. "   Her smile was slow, comforting in an odd sort of way.  " I'm here to take care of ye."
    "Grania."  He tried out the sound of her name.  It was unusual and sounded foreign on his tongue, but that seemed the order of the day.  " Shouldn't I be in a hospital, or at least see a doctor? "
    Grania paused, tilting her head as if pondering his question.  "I wouldna condemn ye to a physician even if there were one nearby."
    Cameron felt a tingle of worry at her words.  Surely an archaic attitude?  An ugly thought pushed itself front and center, combining with his observations on the mountainside, leaving a startling realization, one he simply wasn ' t able or willing to process at the moment.
    "Tell me how yer feeling," the woman said, her concern apparently genuine.
    "Like the Kodo Drummers are rehearsing in my head."
    Again she tilted her head.  This time her brows knitted in concentration.  Something pulled at