Love Beyond Belief (Book 7 of Morna’s Legacy Series) Read online

  BOOK 7 OF MORNA’S LEGACY

  LOVE BEYOND BELIEF

  A SCOTTISH TIME TRAVEL ROMANCE

  BETHANY CLAIRE

  Copyright 2015 by Bethany Claire

  All rights reserved.

  License Notes

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Dj Hendrickson

  Cover Designer: Damonza

  Available In eBook & Paperback

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-9961136-3-2

  Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9961136-4-9

  http://www.bethanyclaire.com

  Love Beyond Belief

  ~Book 7 of Morna’s Legacy Series~

  by Bethany Claire

  © 2015

  [email protected]

  http://www.bethanyclaire.com

  Bethany on Facebook

  Bethany on Twitter

  The best surprises are the ones you never see coming.

  All Sydney Pearce needs is a change—something to end the stress and chaos of running her grandmother’s old restaurant. Maybe then her life will finally start. When she receives a job offer to serve as chef at a castle resort in Scotland, she gets her wish and happily leaves the restaurant to begin a new chapter in her life. However, she quickly discovers that living at Cagair Castle comes with its complications. Not only must she learn to accept the shocking truth of the magic that resides within the castle walls, but she is also faced with mounting feelings for a man born hundreds of years in the past—a man so alluring and kind that despite her better judgment, she finds herself falling for him more each day.

  Callum MacChristy doesn’t need any distractions. He has enough on his hands with the daily travels back and forth through time and the looming threat of the man who tried to destroy his home. His trips each night are meant to provide him a soft bed and a warm shower while he works and waits for his castle to be restored. Instead, he finds himself spending more and more time with a lass so enchanting his thoughts seem to drift toward her at every spare moment.

  As their feelings for one another grow, so does an unseen threat that could destroy any chance they have at happiness together. Will the truth be discovered before it’s too late, or will an enemy they never expected ruin them all?

  For Montana

  PROLOGUE

  Cagair Castle

  September 1649

  Callum could scarcely see through the billowing smoke. The burning in his lungs made it difficult for him to think as he ran across the lawn to better see what all was aflame. Why did it get hotter the further he ran from the castle? He spun to see the source of the heat—Orick’s old hut—engulfed, the thatch roof quickly disintegrating, the wood beams creaking as fire consumed them.

  Frantic thoughts coursed through his mind until he landed on the one comforting fact he could grasp. None of the servants were there. He sent them all away before leaving to join the celebration with the rest of his family and friends. Thank God for that.

  He allowed relief to rush over him until he heard a sound so unsettling that he couldn’t believe it possible—the screams of a babe, a young one. The sound of its cries—screeching, pained, and so frightened—chilled Callum’s bones even as heat rose around him.

  It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He was the only one at the castle. Then he remembered Tom—the old man from the village who always came up to check on things when Callum was away. He hoped Tom was still at home with his family, that he’d come and gone long before the fire took hold. Surely the sound was his imagination. How could a child be here?

  He ran to escape the cloud of smoke surrounding him and tripped over an object in his path. He regained his footing and screamed, sucking in enough smoke to make his mind swirl. Tom. Unconscious and stabbed in his abdomen, the man lay bleeding out onto the grass.

  The sound. He could hear it again. Screaming. Screaming. Over and over. He had to go see. He had to save the child inside. He couldn’t let the smoke overtake him until he saw the babe safe.

  In one quick moment of clear thought, he ripped the shirt from his body, tying it quickly over his nose and mouth to block some of the smoke from entering his lungs. Not taking a second longer to ponder his choice, he burst into the burning hut and moved blindly toward the sound of the screams.

  He found the child quickly. As he reached for it, he could see the outline of two others, clearly dead not from fire but from smoke. That same deadly threat would most likely take his life in a few short moments. He just hoped he could see the child safely outside and that by some miracle, the babe would live.

  He managed to run with the child far outside the smoke before he fell from a sudden pain in his leg. He let loose of the infant, hoping it was far enough from the flames to survive. His leg was on fire, and the pain pushed away any clear thought. He rolled and swung until the fire died around him, but the pain made everything around him spin.

  Nothing would stop the fire, save magic, and he wasn’t a sorcerer by any stretch.

  Unconsciousness threatened him. Whether it was from smoke or pain, he didn’t know. Just as he began to give himself over to what he expected was death, rain started to pound upon his face. In panic, he threw himself over the child to keep her from drowning in the water.

  Then he saw her—a woman. Old and cloaked she stood there, arms stretched as if she summoned the storm from willpower alone. The fire surrendered, and so did he, closing his eyes as he held the baby against him.

  CHAPTER 1

  Cagair Castle

  March 1650 – Six Months Later

  “Ye have to stop crying, Jane. I know ye love her. I do as well. Adwen could not even stand to be here he was so saddened to see her go, but she is not ours. Ye’ve done well by her, but ye must stop crying before Laird Allen’s brother arrives. Please. Ye are breaking my heart.”

  Callum looked at Jane as she sobbed, holding on to baby Nora as tightly as she could. The baby cried right along with her. No matter how hard he tried not to, Callum found himself crying as well at the thought of seeing the wee girl go.

  “I…I know she’s not mine by birth, but she is mine now. No one is ever going to love her as much as I do. She’s mine in every way that matters. What is Laird Allen’s brother going to do with her? We don’t know anything about him. He could be awful. Most likely he will just hand her off to be raised by some of his help. Just ask him, Callum. That’s all I want. If you don’t, I will, and we both know the sort of impression I tend to make on people of this time.”

  He wrapped his arms around his sister-in-law, squeezing her in comfort as he watched the newest laird of the Allen’s territory crest the hill and ride up the narrow, high path leading to Cagair. It was a sad day for them all, but for none more so than Jane. Unable to have children of her own, she claimed Nora as hers the day after the fire.

  “Aye, fine. I’ll speak to him. Here, lass.” He pulled out a cloth he’d tucked inside the waist of his kilt for safekeeping and dabbed away at Jane’s face.

  “He’s nearly here.”

  “What the freaking hell has taken him so long to get here anyway? It’s been six months, Callum.”

  “Jane, he was not even in the country. It took months for anyone to track him down. Ye canna blame his late ar
rival on his not caring. We doona know that.”

  Callum didn’t know any of the Allens. While owners of the single largest territory in all of Scotland, their land lay so far north that they remained isolated from most of the country. Even as well traveled as he was, Callum had never visited their territory. It still shocked him that Laird Allen and his wife arrived at his home so unexpectedly and on the one day he was not there to keep them safe.

  Raudrich Allen rode with many more men than Callum anticipated. He hoped it didn’t mean the new laird was out to avenge the one responsible for his brother’s death.

  Motioning for Jane to stay back, Callum walked toward him, breathing a sigh of relief as the man smiled gently and nodded to him in greeting.

  “Laird MacChristy, I am pleased to finally meet ye, though I do wish ’twas not after such tragedy.”

  Callum waited for Raudrich to dismount then extended a hand toward him.

  “Aye, me as well. Ye canna know how sorry I am for what happened. Had I known they were coming, I never would have left the castle. I would have made certain we had protections in place.”

  Callum thought Raudrich to be about the same age as himself, but the man looked much older, even more weathered by the sun than he was.

  “O’course ye would’ve. Ye bear no responsibility in what happened. Accidents happen no matter where we find ourselves. My brother and his wife knew that as well as anyone. They planned to be back home before their child was born, but an early labor saw fit to change their plans.”

  Callum couldn’t imagine how news of the truth about the fire had yet to reach Raudrich. Accident, it was not.

  “Laird Allen, do ye not know what happened here? I am verra sorry that ye have not learned before now. The fire was set on purpose.”

  “No. That canna be.”

  Callum could see from Raudrich’s expression that it was indeed the first time he’d heard such news.

  “We dinna know for certain for some weeks, but ’twas Laird Macaslan. The old man who watches over the castle when I’m gone was stabbed after the fire was set. Macaslan left him for dead, but he survived. When he woke, we learned of what happened.”

  Laird Allen reached out to lean against his horse for support. Callum knew how the news must feel to him. An accidental fire was one thing, but an act of violence not meant for his family was surely another.

  “What did happen then?”

  “Tom was here when yer brother and his family arrived. He was just about to see them inside when he saw Macaslan’s men approaching. He knew the ill will between Macaslan and myself and told them to hide in the hut. He couldn’t stop them from setting the castle afire, but he hoped they would leave the outer building alone. He might have if not for the scream of the babe. Macaslan set fire to the hut right then, not wanting witnesses to what he’d done. Then he stabbed Tom, believing he would die. I arrived back after Macaslan and his men were already gone. The only one I could save was the babe.”

  He still couldn’t speak of that night without choking up. Raudrich reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thank ye for saving the child. I canna bear to think of her being lost.”

  Callum said nothing. He was glad, as well, but it wasn’t nearly enough. If not for him, the child’s parents would still be alive.

  “So ye see, Laird Allen, ’twas not an accident that killed yer ken. None is to blame but myself.”

  “None? I’d say Macaslan is the one to blame, lad. What did ye do to anger him?”

  “I prevented his son from marrying a lass that dinna want him—a lass that already belonged to another.”

  “Ah. That is not enough reason for a man to burn yer home and property. This was not yer doing, Callum. We must see Macaslan dead.”

  He couldn’t agree more. If only the wretch would see his way back to Scotland.

  “Aye, though he’s not been seen since the night of the fire. His son holes up in their castle, and his father has fled the country. We’ve eyes on nearly every shore. When he sees fit to return, we’ll know.”

  “Where do ye think he’s gone? My men willna be returning home until we’ve seen Macaslan’s head separated from his body. If ye are watching for him to return, we will go seek him out.”

  Callum was sure that most of Scotland felt that way. He couldn’t think of any possible ally for Macaslan. More clans than not had been wronged by him in some way.

  “A merchant in Macaslan’s territory claims he has friends in Spain, though I doona know if he would travel so far.”

  “To Spain we will go then.”

  For the first time, Raudrich gestured toward the child in Jane’s arms.

  “How is the babe? Have ye named her? I doona know what my brother called the lass.”

  Callum could hear Jane approaching behind him. It didn’t surprise him that she refused to stay where he left her.

  “Nora. I call her Nora.”

  “’Tis a lovely name, lass. Can I see her?”

  Callum watched Jane closely, hoping with his every breath that she wouldn’t turn and bolt toward the portal with the child in tow. She trembled all over, but slowly she handed the baby over to Laird Allen. Nora started to scream immediately.

  Raudrich held the baby out away from him awkwardly, baring his teeth uncomfortably as he spoke over the baby’s cry.

  “She looks much like her mother. She doesna seem to care for me much.”

  Jane’s voice, weepy and cracked, answered.

  “You…you have to hold her closer to you.”

  Laird Allen nodded but continued to hold the child away from him.

  “Aye, I’m sure. What is yer name? Are ye Callum’s wife?”

  “No.” Both he and Jane spoke up at the same time. Embarrassed, Callum stepped back, allowing Jane to lead the conversation.

  “No. I’m Jane, Adwen’s wife. Adwen is Callum’s brother.”

  Laird Allen nodded once again and continued to stare at the baby with apprehension.

  “Do ye love her, Jane?”

  Callum feared Jane would rip the child from his arms at any moment. When she answered, her voice was filled with need.

  “Very much.”

  “I can see that. Why doona ye keep her? All the babe’s parents would want is for her to be loved. I would love her, but a babe needs more than that, aye? I’m not married and, from the sounds of it, I’ll be headed to Spain soon. I canna care for the child like ye can.”

  Jane stepped forward and gleefully took Nora back into her arms.

  “Do you mean it? If you say I can keep her, I need your word that you will not want her back. It nearly killed me handing her to you just then. I couldn’t say goodbye to her again.”

  Laird Allen turned his back to them, said a quick word to his men, and remounted his horse before speaking.

  “Aye, lass. I will rest easy knowing that Nora will grow up with a mother who loves her just as much as her birth mother did. I’ll not take up any more of yer time. My men will see my family’s remains safely back to our home. I’ll be in search for Laird Macaslan, and I’ll be in touch with ye soon, Callum.”

  They both waited until their visitor rode out of sight before speaking. When Laird Allen was gone, Jane threw one of her arms around Callum, squishing the baby in between them hard enough to elicit an unhappy scream from Nora.

  “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Callum.”

  He stared at her incredulously, turning to lead them both back to the portal.

  “Why are ye thanking me? I dinna do it. Laird Allen did.”

  “But you saved her, and she’s become my world. I am grateful to Laird Allen too, but I mean, seriously, what’s wrong with him? Who gives their niece over to a total stranger like that? For all he knows, he could have just given her over to a complete nut-job.”

  Callum laughed teasingly. “I believe he just did.”

  Jane gave him a quick nudge in the ribs with her elbow before sprinting ahea
d of him and down the staircase portal.

  He knew as he followed her into the twenty-first century that this would be the happiest day they’d all had in many, many months.

  CHAPTER 2

  Italy

  Present Day

  The sound of sneakers on cobblestone streets always soothed me in a way that little else could. It meant that the rest of the world, or at least everyone in my tiny village, still slept. For those few, precious, forty-odd minutes, all that mattered was the sound of my sneakers and the steady rhythm of my own labored breathing. It was the only time of day that I kept for myself. Even with the chest cold I had this morning, I refused to miss out on my run.

  As a child, I spent my summers in the restaurant helping my grandmother in whatever manner she allowed, watching her with a dreamlike admiration that distorted my memories in a way I could only see now. In front of her patrons, while working in the kitchen and serving up three meals daily to the town’s residential regulars, she’d been vibrant, energetic, and alive. She made everyone around her smile. You could taste her love in every meal she cooked, and all I ever wanted was to be just like her.

  But away from her restaurant, in the small home where she spent her life, she’d been so tired she would fall asleep any time she sat down. So out of touch with anything outside of her restaurant, she could talk of little. When young, I always thought that the restaurant was the source of all her energy—a light in her life that she loved so much it pained her any time she was away. Perhaps if I’d spent more than those few weeks each summer with her, I would have seen the truth. She loved her work, that much was true, but the restaurant was a vacuum to her soul until the day she died. It took her energy, her focus, her time, and any chance she ever had at real happiness.