Was peace too much to yearn for? He scowled at the sleeping woman—another complication he didn’t need or want. His gelding stretched its neck to nose the curiosity on the ground, and a delicate hand rose to bat the disturbance away. The lass sat up and looked around in sleepy-eyed confusion, leaping to her feet when she saw him and his men in a circle around her.
“Who are you, lady? From whence do you come?” Malcolm demanded.
At his words, she turned to stare owl-eyed up at him. “Holy. Crap.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Where are your guardsmen and servants?”
Her spine straightened, and her chin lifted. “They’re…in the woods.”
Malcolm studied her. She had eyes the color of the sea on a stormy day. Hair the lustrous shade of fine sable hung in a braid down past her waist. He lost himself in fantasies of that glorious hair free and cascading down around her shoulders. She was a vision.
Malcolm gave himself a firm shake. Her looks mattered not in the least. “Aye? What might they be doing in my woods?”
Her eyes flew to the forest. “Um…tending to…things.”
His men chuckled. She was a terrible liar, clearly alone and abandoned by the side of the road. This could only mean one thing. Trouble, and more trouble he did not need. “What sort of things?”
“Very important things,” Alethia muttered. Definitely the alpha male in this barbarian six-pack, the brute confronting her radiated arrogance and authority. Sun-kissed golden hair fell to his shoulders, and a few days’ growth of thick russet beard stubbled his strong jaw. He wore nothing but a swath of wool in muted plaid draped around his body and soft leather boots that reached mid-calf.
Where the hell was she, some kind of Braveheart parallel universe? What did that old witch do to me? Giselle’s words echoed inside her head. “Time is relative, Alethia, and completely malleable for one such as myself.” Oh my God. Did she send me back in time? Was such a thing even possible? Her head rang from the pounding of her heart, and her mouth went dry. None of this was possible, and any minute she’d wake up and find everything back to normal.
The leader scowled down at her, his wide, generous mouth drawn into a straight line that screamed annoyed. Well, she wasn’t all that happy herself.
Sparing a glance for the rest of his crew, she couldn’t help noticing the large swords slung over their backs and all the daggers tucked into belts and boots. She sucked in her breath and stood a little straighter. The Anishinaabe had always been a peace-loving people but also fearless when the need arose. Intending to be brave now, or at least appear to be, she clasped her trembling hands together in front of her. “Now, if you don’t mind, please move aside,” she said, clearing her throat, hoping that would get rid of the telltale quiver, “and I’ll be on my way.”
One of the men nudged his horse forward. As dark as the leader was fair, this one gave off a bad vibe. As frightened as she was, she could still sense his malicious nature.
“Let me take her off your hands, Malcolm. She’s a foreigner and without protection. That makes her fair game.”
“No!” A surge of adrenaline hit her bloodstream, and she searched for a gap in the wall of horses and men. How far would her trembling legs carry her? “I’m responsible for myself and not game of any kind.”
“She is on my land, Hugh,” the one called Malcolm replied. “That makes her my responsibility.”
“My people are waiting for me to join them,” she bluffed, “and they’re heavily armed.”
Malcolm snorted and scooped her up off the ground like a sack of grain. Placing her in front of him, he nudged his horse down the road. His chortling men fell in line behind him.
“Put me down! I have no intention of going anywhere with you.” She tried to pry herself out of his hold.
“And I have no intention of leaving you alone in the wilderness.” Malcolm’s arm tightened around her waist.
She blinked back the tears of fear and frustration and struggled to get out of his hold. It was useless. He probably weighed more than twice what she did, and every inch of him was granite. She glanced back at her violin and duffel bag. The only links to her life lay by the side of the road, growing smaller by the second. “My things. At least let me get my—”
“Nay, we travel in haste. I’ll no’ burden our mounts with any more useless baggage.”
Damn the tear trickling down her cheek. “I didn’t ask you to take me anywhere. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Don’t panic. Think. Swiping her eyes, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Her mind raced for a way out of this mess. Thank heavens her friends had insisted she take self-defense classes after one of their classmates had been mugged.