The Highlander's Stronghold (Se - Bess McBride.pdf

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Ann Borodell, a graduate student scrambling to find an archaeological
dig to finish her degree, lands a project in the remote Western Isles of
Scotland. With a concentration in Colonial American studies, she
knows almost nothing about Scottish history and the sixteenth century
island stronghold of the Morrison clan.
That changes though when she discovers a medieval dagger embedded
in the rubble at the base of a tower house on the island. As the dagger
pulls her back in time, she awakens in the arms of a suspicious
Highland laird who thinks she is a spy—for the English or for their
enemies, the MacLeods.
Ann believes that getting the dagger back from its owner, John
Morrison, is her way back to the twenty-first century. So does the laird.
And he has no intention of letting Ann leave the stronghold...or him.
An hour of mindless digging passed, but I knew what I had signed up
for when I entered the field of archaeology—long periods of
backbreaking, knee-aching, mind-numbing troweling broken only
rarely by an occasional "find."
That day was apparently the day I would discover my find. I had been
carefully picking away at turf and mud in a crevice between stones
when something metal fell to the ground at my knees. Metal was
always an exciting find! Unlike organic material, it lasted for centuries.
I set my trowel down and eyed what looked like a darkly tarnished
silver dagger or a dirk.
I barely breathed as I studied the dagger on the ground without
touching it. Only when I grew dizzy did I drag in a deep breath and turn
to call out to my fellow diggers. But they had moved away, probably to
take a break around the other side of the mound, where an area had
been set aside for hot drinks and refreshments.
My first instinct was to run around the base of the mound and locate
someone, Dylan, anyone, to shout out my find, but I dared not leave the
artifact. How could I? What if it disappeared? What if one of the many
seagulls flying overhead snatched it up and carried it off? The dagger
looked heavy, and I doubted whether a bird could carry it in its beak,
but still I couldn't bring myself to leave it and run for guidance. Given
that I was a bit loopy from the excitement and the blood pounding in
my ears, I did what I thought was right. I removed both pairs of gloves
and picked up the dirk to take it to Dylan.
On contact, the metal seemed to flare, and yet it didn't burn. I eyed it
wildly, almost tempted to drop it, but I held on. The sky darkened, or so
I thought. Perhaps it was just my vision. Flashing lights blinded me,
and I shook my head. Suspecting that I must have held my breath too
long and was about to faint, I tried to drag in a deep breath, but it didn't
help. I clutched the dagger by its hilt and slipped into a dizzying
whirlpool of unconsciousness.
THE HIGHLANDER'S STRONGHOLD
Bess McBride
The Highlander's Stronghold
Copyright 2016 Bess McBride
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and
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Cover art by Tara West
Contact information:
bessmcbride@gmail.com
Published in the United States of America
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