Claire woke with the back of her head pounding against something hard. She blinked her eyes open to see the horse's mane flapping in front of her. The recollection of her situation struck her at that moment, and she gave a start.

The words, "Woah, there lassie," sounded as a gentle deep whisper in her ear, and a relative feeling of calm settled over her. The strong, soothing arms that had held her on the horse as she slept tightened around her, and she settled back against his warmth. 'Jamie,' she remembered; however, she did not know his surname and would feel more comfortable addressing him formally.

Although she was pretty sure she was being kidnapped or held hostage by these Scots, her companion was kind and gentle to her. Of course, she had mended his shoulder but his kindness went beyond gratefulness. It just seemed to be his nature.

"I'm sorry," she said over her shoulder, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Dinna fash yerself," he said kindly, "Ye need your rest. My guess is ye had a rough day."

"You could say that again," scoffed Claire, "What time is it?"

Jamie squinted looking upwards. He turned in his seat, trying to determine the location of the sun through the thick highland clouds.

"I'd say about midmornin'. We've got about another day's ride ahead of us."

Claire grunted and fidgeted in the saddle, her legs and feet numb from riding for so long. It was a bittersweet torture to Jamie whenever she moved like that. He greatly enjoyed the feel of her wedged between his thighs but it caused him to have an uncontrollable and embarrassing reaction. He was pretty sure she had noticed because whenever it happened her squirming would stop abruptly.

"We'll stop soon to water the horses," Jamie preempted, "You'll be able to stretch your legs then. Not used to riding are ye."

"No," answered Claire. She wished to add more, the highlander deserved more than one-word answers from her. She determined upon something that was true and probably safe to say, "Not since spending time with my Uncle Lamb in Ireland did I ride so much."

"Och, aye," he said with a chuckle, "And ye probably spent your time riding in the proper manner of a lady, no doubt."

Claire decided it was best not to correct him. Her time with Uncle Lamb, traipsing around the world on archaeological digs, was rarely spent in ladylike pursuits. She chuckled lightly thinking about that.

"What's so funny?" asked her companion lightheartedly.

Caught off guard, she recovered quickly, and said with a touch of sadness, "Oh, I was just remembering some of the good times I had with my uncle."

Catching her note of melancholy, Jamie perceptively asked, "Is your uncle no longer with us?"

"You could say that," said Claire thoughtfully, "Yes, he is not with us."

"I'm sorry," condoled Jamie, "sounds like he cared a great deal for you."

"Yes, he did," she replied, "He was a good man."

….oOo….

Jamie was thrilled that she was talking to him. He could not deny the strong connection he felt toward her and he wanted to know more about her. He had noticed the gold band on her left hand as she slept and his heart sank – she was married. But then he reasoned with himself that she might be widowed as she seemed to have been traveling alone and had not mentioned a husband (or anyone else for that matter) who would be searching for her. It was a terrible thing to hope for, so he pushed that thought aside.

They stopped at a clearing by the stream to rest and water the horses. Jamie hopped off the horse first and then helped Claire down with his good arm. After getting himself a drink from the stream, Jamie watched as Claire took a drink and walked about, stretching her legs and back. The others were all busy with the horses, but Jamie noticed Dougal watching her too. The older man stood there with his thumbs tucked in his belt. He eyed her up and down, lingering on her bare legs (as they all seemed to do).

Her attire was scandalous indeed but considering whom she had been rescued from it was understandable. The surprising thing was that she didn't seem to be ashamed of how she was dressed among all these rough men. The woman was proud and indomitable. She was bold and fearless and there was a fire in her eyes. Yet she was also meek and kind. Jamie had yet to find a quality that he did not like about her.

Jamie watched as his uncle's expression turned from admiration of her form to suspicion. This bothered Jamie. Claire was no spy, he just knew it. However, as war chief of Clan MacKenzie, it was Dougal's job to be suspicious of newcomers, especially if the one in question was a bold English lassie. He wondered what his uncle had planned for Claire once they returned to Leoch. The Laird, Colum, his other uncle, would surely be more diplomatic with her than Dougal would be. That thought comforted him somewhat.

Jamie decided to approach Dougal and see if he could get a feel for his thoughts on the matter.

"What do you make of her, Uncle?" he inquired.

"Don't know," replied he, "there's something odd about her. I'm hoping Colum can puzzle her out. She say anything to you?"

"Nah," he answered, not really caring to share with his uncle anything he had learned of her, "the lass is pretty sullen. She doesna say much."

Just then Claire approached them.

"Mistress Beauchamp," Dougal greeted her.

She nodded at him resentfully. Jamie could tell that she wanted to say something but noted the struggle on her face to keep her indignance at bay. Instead she took on an air of dignified haughtiness and in her best English accent she said, "I do not believe we have been properly introduced, sir. With what name am I to address you?"

Dougal surprised his nephew by straightening his tall frame and matching her formality (goaded into proving that he could be civilized too, no doubt). He replied, "My deepest apologies madam. Earlier circumstances were not conducive to formal introductions. I am Dougal MacKenzie, war chief of Clan MacKenzie, and brother of its Laird" and bowing deeply with his leg extended at the proper angle, he added, "at your service."

Claire curtsied as well as she could in her current attire. She then turned with a smile and looked expectantly at Jamie. He smiled back gazing into her beautiful eyes. He got lost there for a moment before he realized she wanted a name from him as well.

He cleared his throat with a cough to cover for his tardy response. However, as he opened his mouth to tell her his name, Dougal spoke instead. Indicating Jamie with a hand, he said stiffly, "This here is Jamie MacTavish."

Jamie was taken aback as that was not his real name. Dougal shot him a sharp look laced with his suspicion of the Sassenach. Jamie supposed his uncle was right not to use his real name as there was a price on his head, however, he instinctively felt he could trust Claire and had wanted to tell her his real name. For some reason it felt wrong for him to lie to her.

Not wanting to be outdone in civility by his uncle he too performed a proper courtly bow. Her answering curtsey was deeper and more graceful than the one she gave Dougal. Jamie could hear his uncle's slight snort at the scene before him.

Dougal turned to the rest of the group and announced that it was time to move out. Turning back to the couple, he ordered them to mount their horse. The entire party was back on the road in less than five minutes.

...oOo...

As they travelled along, a rocky mountain ridge came into view.

Eying the rocky formation, Claire announced, "I know this place." In retrospect, she thought to herself, she probably shouldn't have said anything. She might get herself into trouble, but it was too late now.

"Been through here before, have ye?" Jamie asked her.

"Yes," she replied warily, "I recognize that rock. The one that looks like a cock's tail. It has a name."

"Clach a' Choillich," Jamie responded with the Gaelic name. "Cocknammon rock," he translated.

Tentatively Claire revealed, "The English, they... they used it for ambushes." Then realizing that they might currently be in danger of such an attack, she added, "They could be lying in wait right now."

Jamie looked about and assessed, "It's a bonnie place for an ambush, right enough." Then he called out to his uncle, "Dougal." He clicked his tongue and kicked his horse to urge him on calling, "Dougal. Dougal." Finally catching Dougal's attention as he rode up next to him he explained to his kinsman in Gaelic what Claire had told him, "The Sassenach tells me there may be an ambush ahead. Says the redcoats hide out here at Clach a' Choillich for the purpose."

"Do you believe her?" Dougal inquired.

"Aye," replied Jamie, glancing at Claire, "she seems too scared to lie."

Frustrated and angry, Dougal leaned over toward Claire and insisted, "Now, you'll be telling me exactly how and why you come to know there's an ambush up ahead."

Drawing up her dignity Claire pursed her lips and replied, "I don't know, but I heard the redcoats use Cocknammon rock-"

Dougal interrupted her with a sneer and demanded, "Where did you hear?"

Claire had to come up with something believable and present it with conviction.

"In the village," she proudly replied.

Dougal looked around making his own assessment. Conceding that an ambush was a possibility, he signaled to his men. Jamie pushed Claire off the horse, sending her tumbling into the underbrush, hoping to keep her out of harm's way.

"Hide yourself!" he told her as he removed his arm from the makeshift sling, clearly intending to use the injured appendage. As he spurred his horse on with the rest of the highlanders, he shouted a battle cry of "Tulach Ard!"

...oOo...

Claire recovered from the fall and looked up to see redcoats stepping out from the trees as the battle ensued. With her captors now preoccupied she decided this was her opportunity to escape. She turned and ran away from the fight.

Claire figured the stream would lead her back to Inverness eventually, so she followed it as swiftly as she could. However, her feet were beginning to hurt. Her shoes weren't meant for a cross country trek.

It was actually nice, though, to be walking. She had been getting saddle sore. In retrospect though, it was rather pleasant being wrapped in the handsome highlander's plaid with him. He radiated such warmth both of heat and of heart. She felt quite comfortable with him, warm and protected, and something else…. She couldn't deny the electricity that sparked between them. She felt it the first time she touched him. Then there were the butterflies in her belly whenever he looked at her with those piercing blue eyes. The sound of his voice as he spoke in her ear and his breath flitting across her skin gave her such goose bumps and sent a frisson of excitement down her spine. It would often make her squirm in the saddle and she could feel his excitement behind her. The attraction was definitely mutual.

Just then a tree branch slapped her in the face and jolted her out of her reverie. She shouldn't be thinking about the highlander. She had to get back to Inverness, to the stones, and to Frank. She stopped in her tracks when she realized that she did not feel toward Frank what she felt toward the ginger haired Scot and she found the thought of never seeing her new friend again disheartening. She began to wonder how the battle went and if she should have stayed to tend the wounded. Would he have used his hurt shoulder and injured himself more? No! She had to shake herself. She did not belong here. The feelings she had for this man were wrong. She had to get back to her own time, to her husband.

She reminded herself of how Dougal had spoken to her with threats and suspicion. She had to remember that no matter how nice Jamie was to her they were still taking her with them against her will. She did not know where they were going or what they had in store for her. Their leader's claim that he did not hold with rape and then declaring there wasn't time for it did nothing to erase that possibility from her mind. Stealing herself against the highlanders once more, she continued to pick her way along the stream bank redoubling her determination to get away and back to Frank.

Suddenly, she heard a horse approach. Looking up she saw the tall handsome highlander and gasped.

...oOo...

Thanks to Claire's tip the rugged band of highlanders routed the British patrol and came away with only a few "scratches."

Jamie was bloody and his shoulder hurt but he was more concerned for Claire now that the fighting was over. He swiftly galloped back to where he had left her but found she was gone. He returned to the others and, not wanting to get her in trouble, he told them that she must have gotten lost. Before he could volunteer, Dougal ordered him to find her. He sped away on his horse down the trail that followed the stream.

He began to worry when after ten minutes he had not yet come upon her. This was the only trail around and it followed the stream. She would certainly get lost if she tried to bushwhack through the forest. No, he concluded, she was smart. She would have followed the stream. Just when he was about to give up and head back, thinking she might be hiding instead of running, he came upon her. She had covered more distance than he thought she could have. This woman kept surprising him at every turn. She is not your typical lassie he decided.

"Lost your way?" he asked as he jumped off his horse, giving her the benefit of the doubt. He spun quickly, commanding his horse to stay, then he approached her. He still had his sword in his hand from the battle.

Having convinced herself once more that the highlanders were up to no good and having resolved to return to Craigh na dun, she was wary again. However, she could not fight back her nurse's instincts.

Seeing him wielding the sword in his right hand she said, "I hope you haven't been misusing that shoulder." As he drew closer and she noticed the blood on his shirt she stated, "You're hurt."

"This lot isna my blood," he said glancing down at his shirt and trying to make light of it, "Not much of it, anyway."

Claire attempted to run, but Jamie caged her in with his left arm extended and his sword in his right.

"Dougal and the others will be waiting further up the stream," he firmly cajoled her, "We should go."

"I'm not going with you," she declared vehemently.

"Yes, you are," Jamie asserted forcefully, pointing his sword at her.

"What," Claire demanded, looking contemptuously at the point of his blade, "are you going to cut my throat if I don't?"

"Why, no," he stated somewhat foolishly. "But..." he skillfully assessed the situation, sizing her up, and concluded, "You don't look that heavy. Now if you won't walk," He grabbed her by the arm and stepped close to her. Artfully taking advantage of the fact that she was continually concerned for his shoulder he added, looking down at her, "I shall pick you up and throw you over my shoulder. Do you want me to do that?"

"No," she said through gritted teeth and struggled in his grasp.

"Well, then...," he declared smugly, retaining his hold on her, "I suppose that means you're coming with me." He glanced down at her pursed lips, their faces just inches apart. He figured a good kiss would go a long way toward wiping that indignant look off her face. But he had to resist that impulse. He wanted her to look at him with love, not with the loathing he saw there now.

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and marched to the horse. Jamie gave one quick look around making sure there were no redcoats here and turned back himself.

….oOo….

Claire was none too pleased to be going back to the Scotsmen. She was quiet and sullen the entire ride back. As they were approaching the others Jamie moaned and grunted with the strain on his shoulder.

"Serves you right," taunted Claire, "Probably torn your muscles as well as bruising."

"Well," Jamie took her comments in stride, "wasna much of a choice. If I dinna move my shoulder, I'd never have moved anything else ever again." He raised his voice as they came within earshot of the other men, "I can handle a single redcoat with one hand," he asserted with bravado, "Maybe even two. Not three. Besides," he lowered his voice and spoke in her ear now, giving her that tingle of pleasure once more, "you can fix it for me again when we get to where we're going."

"That's what you think," she saucily retorted.

Jamie laughed to himself. He enjoyed her teasing, for even though he knew she did not like her situation and she was being contrary, he knew it was not in her nature to let anyone suffer if she could help it.

When they stopped in front of Dougal and the others Rupert toasted her, "Here's to you, lass. For tipping us to the villains in the rocks and giving us a wee bit o' fun!"

The other men joined in with cheers and shouts of "Slàinte mhath!"

Leather flasks of whiskey were passed around. One came to Jamie and he took a swig. He offered it to Claire, but she was still feeling bitter so she turned it down. Jamie, however, knew it was just the thing she needed.

"Have a wee nip," he suggested, offering it again. He whispered in her ear, "It willna fill your belly, but will make you forget you're hungry."

Reluctantly Claire gave in and took the bottle. Expertly she took a long draw and swallowed without so much as a flinch.

Dougal was impressed with the strong brazen sassenach. He still eyed her with suspicion though, and eyed Jamie with jealousy.