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This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright 2011 Cyndi Tefft
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
Cover by Woulds & Shoulds Editing and Design
http://www.editinganddesign.com
Dedication
This book is dedicated to Ryan Tefft, Lisa Surdyk and Jamie Schlecht Knapp, who know for sure whether there are Transporters waiting for us on the other side.
Acknowledgments
This book would not have been possible without the loving support of my husband, Dave Tefft, who took the kids out so I could write, who suffered my tossing and turning as I worked out scenes in my sleep, and who has always encouraged me in whatever creative endeavors strike my fancy. You are my soul mate in this life and whatever comes next.
Thanks to Dyan Kirkpatrick who was such a help with reading, editing and offering her valuable insight. I love you, Mom!
A big thanks to Teresa Velasquez and Korene Pearson who read the book in its infancy and prodded me to finish. Lindsey has green eyes because of Teresa!
Love to Sue Martin and Jan Wigen as well, for giving me their honest opinion once I'd reached the end. Thanks to Beth Isaacs and Linda Ge for being brutal critique partners, too!
Clare and David from EditingandDesign.com are the wizards behind the breathtaking cover. You guys rock!
For support and encouragement, a big squeeze from me to Jim Gill, Robin Mickelson, Paul Ahrens, Tim Surdyk, Tim and AnneMarie Kuhnau, Steve Scott, Maria McCrackin, Q Jackson, Saskia Kidd, Pam Horton, Karin Nelson, Stephanie Hance, Paula McClure, Tammy Tegge, and Camay Wells.
And lastly, thanks to Diana Gabaldon for creating such a delectable character in Jamie Fraser that I had to create my own version. I will always be indebted to Diana for introducing me to the wonders of Scotland, the land of my heart.
Chapter 1
Ravi’s lips were soft and familiar against mine, but my mind was elsewhere. I was so not ready for my history final and should have been back at the dorm, studying.
“Lindsey, you’re so beautiful,” he said, pressing me against the seat of the car. His mouth trailed over my jaw to my neck, his breath warm in my ear.
“I love you,” he whispered.
That snapped me back to reality.
Damn. I liked Ravi, I really did, but not as much as he liked me. The kissing was nice, but I didn’t feel IT, the connection, the zing. The L word? Ugh. I didn’t want to lose him as a friend and I did love him, in a way. Just not that way.
“Ravi…” I began and he stiffened.
“You know what, never mind. Just forget I said anything, okay?” He jerked away, his voice tight with embarrassment. He turned the key and the engine roared to life.
“No, really, it’s just…”
He flicked on the high beams. “Let’s just go.”
Fat droplets of rain splattered on the windshield and built into a steady drumming on the roof. The swish of the wipers and the hum of the heater echoed in the chasm between us and I struggled to think of a way to alleviate the tension. He flipped on the radio and the sound of screeching guitars raked my nerves.
The highway was deserted and we hadn’t seen another car pass by us for miles. As he started around a corner, I touched him on the arm.
“Ravi, I’m sorry.”
He turned to me with a frustrated sigh, giving minimal attention to the familiar road. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said it. I know it’s only been a couple of months, but I feel like…”
“Look out!” I yelled.
The sedan in front of us was creeping along and we came screaming up behind it. His eyes snapped forward and he slammed on the brakes. My chest seized with panic as the car started to hydroplane, the tires sliding across the slick asphalt. He wrenched on the steering wheel and pumped the brakes, trying to regain control. The sickening crunch of metal mingled with my screams as we rammed into the other vehicle.
The headlights flung streaks of light like fireworks in the driving rain as we spun out of control. We sailed off the roadway and the car hung in mid air before the hood smashed into the ground. Distorted acid rock pounded in my ears as the car rolled down the embankment. Ravi’s body floated over mine, his face contorted in fear. The pine tree outside my window beckoned with relentless persistence until the car door wrapped around me in a vicious embrace, squeezing the air from my lungs.
Chapter 2
I awoke with my knees drawn to my chest. Shaking with fear, jaw clenched in anticipation of searing pain, I took an experimental breath and waited.
Nothing hurt.
Relief flooded through me and I breathed to try and still the tremors in my flesh, still dreading the moment I’d be wracked with pain. Slowly unfurling, I reached out, expecting to feel the cold metal of the car door.
It wasn’t there. My hand landed on soft, dry grass and my eyes snapped open in confusion.
Where am I?
Completely disoriented, I scrambled to my feet. Birds flitted between the tree branches at the edge of a meadow, their sweet melody floating through the air. Wildflowers tickled my knees as I stood with my mouth agape.
What the—? I must be dreaming.
Energy hummed—building, bubbling inside—and the air caressed me with its warm, honeyed scent. I walked along the bank of a stream, sunlight sparkling on its surface, then knelt for a drink.
A shadow appeared over the water.
Shielding my eyes with my hand, I turned and peered up at the towering figure. Illuminated from behind, his wavy blond hair shone like a halo around his head. He wore a cream shirt and pants, and couldn't have been much older than me, but he looked like a Greek god. When he smiled, a dimple appeared on one cheek.
“Weel, hallo there,” he said in a thick accent. My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Without thinking, I blurted, “You’re Scottish.”
Brilliant, Einstein.
He threw his head back and laughed—a rich, joyous sound that bounced off the water. “Aye, that I am, indeed. Aiden MacRae of Eilean Donan. Very pleased to be meeting you.” He bowed with a grand sweep of his arm, and straightened with an upright carriage that cast an air of royalty.
“Wow. Um, I’m uh…” I struggled to think of something impressive to say in return, but gave up. “I’m Lindsey. Lindsey Waters.”
He repeated my name carefully with a sweet lilt I’d never heard before. “It's a lovely name.” He tipped his head and smiled, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners.
I wanted to say something witty, but I just stood there, absorbing him with my eyes. He knelt beside the water and took a drink. I couldn’t help but stare at the strength of his movements: swift and fluid in one way, but filled with an underlying power, like a lion at rest.
“You look like an angel,” I breathed.
Oh man, did I just say that out loud?
“Thank you kindly, lass. But no, angels are incredible beings, fierce and dangerous, and so beautiful you can barely stand to look at them.” He fit the description pretty well, but I kept my mouth shut. “No, I’m not an angel. I’m what you might call a Transporter. I’m here to take you from earth to heaven.”
My brows furrowed as if I’d just realized I’d forgotten something important. I shook my head. “From earth to heaven? To go to heaven, I’d have to be… dead.” The word lay on my tongue, heavy and tasteless, as I tried to absorb exactly what that meant. The meadow dissolved around me, replaced by a rainy night. The wind whipped my hair around my face and I stared in horror at the crumpled car wrapped around the pine tree before me.
A man at the edge of the road slid down the bank toward us. Upon reaching the mangled car, he shouted, “Are you okay?”
Ravi choked out a sob. “Help her. I think she’s hurt.”
“I’m here! Over here!” I yelled, but the man didn’t react.
The stranger moved over to the side of the car by the tree and yelled, “Miss? Miss, are you all right? Can you hear me?” When he got no response, he gave up and moved back to Ravi. “I called 9-1-1. Help is coming. Don’t worry, man, she’s going to be fine.” I ran over to him, panic welling up inside me.
“What are you talking about?” I said. “I’m right here! I must have been thrown from the car. I’m not—” A bloody, lifeless arm lay on the ground, sticking out through the shattered window.
My hand flew to my mouth.
NO!
My throat tightened and I swallowed hard in a vain attempt to tamp down the surge of grief. Aiden appeared at my side and touched my shoulder. I bit my quivering lip, jerking away from him. Choking back the tears, I wiped my face, blinking fiercely and trying to get a breath.
A cold wall of denial solidified inside me.
It can’t be true.
I took a tentative step and peered inside the car. My broken body lay in a pool of blood, unmoving. Dead.
I couldn’t contain it anymore, and great hiccupping sobs broke free. Aiden’s arms came around me in a tight embrace and I didn’t resist. He stroked my hair, whispering comforting words in a language I didn’t understand, and held me until no more tears would come. Resting my forehead on his chest, I tried to slow my breathing to match his. Peace radiated from him.
“Better?” he asked, all traces of the earlier amusement gone. I nodded and he wiped a tear from my cheek, the warmth of his body enveloping me. A siren’s piercing wail was coming toward us and I turned to watch with bleary, stinging eyes. The paramedics came down the bank and worked to free the driver. The door wrenched free with a piercing screech of metal and they pulled him out.
“Ravi!” Agony shot through me at the sight of his bloodied face. I frantically scrambled over the wet earth to him.
He was barely conscious. “No, leave me. Help Lindsey,” he repeated.
“We’ve got our top paramedic working on her. Let’s worry about you,” the EMT said. Ravi’s eyes rolled back in his head and his breathing became labored.
“Help him! Do something! You can’t let him die!” I screamed at Aiden, reaching out to Ravi, but my hand passed right through.
Aiden’s eyes held a deep compassion but his voice was resolute. “He will not die, Lindsey. I’ve only come for you.”
“But I can’t…” I began, but then stopped upon seeing the determined set of his jaw. “It’s really over, isn’t it?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. He nodded and held out a hand. I felt hollow inside, knowing there was nothing I could do. A tear slid down my cheek as I stole a glance back at the car where my body lay, surrounded by people working earnestly to save what I knew was already lost.
“Goodbye,” I breathed to my former self, then turned to Aiden and what lay ahead.
Chapter 3
The instant my fingertips touched his, the rainy night melted into a picturesque scene. I looked out over a lake toward green, rolling hills dotted with purple heather. The setting sun reflected pools of orange in the water’s mirrored surface. Behind us, wreathed in mist, a stone castle dominated the small island where we stood. A narrow bridge spanned the distance to the mainland. There were no sounds or signs of modern day: no electric lights or lampposts, no familiar hum of traffic.
Aiden moved to stand beside me, his presence as tangible as a supportive embrace. All at once, the despair that had been choking me suddenly dissolved. Aiden exuded a supernatural peace that chased away my grief like a warm blanket blocks out the chilly night. I felt like I was supposed to be sad about something, but I couldn't quite remember what. Overwhelmed, I stared across the peaceful water.
“I just can’t believe it… dead.” I rolled it around in my mind, considering. “I always thought that death was something to be afraid of, you know, something terrible. And yet, now here I am in this beautiful place.” He smiled, his eyes filled with understanding. “And I feel more alive than I ever did before,” I continued, shaking my head in awe.
“Many folk say they believe in heaven, but more often than not, they’re surprised to find out God wasn’t lying after all.”
I noted he was no longer wearing the cream shirt and slacks, but a red and green kilt, white linen shirt and black boots. With his hair pulled away from his face in a braid, the glowing light of the sunset danced off the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll make us a wee campfire to warm your toes.” He set to work gathering sticks from the sparse woods around us. I sat down and tucked my arms around my knees, enthralled by his accent and fascinated by the sight of him in his native dress. I’d never seen a guy in a kilt before but I had to admit I really liked it. My gaze traveled up his bare calves and over his back. His muscles flexed as he bent to arrange the twigs and limbs for the fire. The kilt covered his legs at one moment, then revealed them anew as he stood up. All my earlier thoughts seemed to wash away as I watched him, drinking in his strength and beauty.
Damn, he is gorgeous.
I suddenly remembered the saying that Scots don’t wear anything under their kilts and pushed back a crazy impulse to see for myself. Afraid that he might notice me checking him out, I cleared my throat to break the silence.
“Do you want some help?” I asked.
“Thank you for the offer but I’ve done this a thousand times if I’ve done it once. No fear, I’ve a flint in my sporran.” He reached into a small pouch tied around his waist and pulled out the flint. A spark lighted from the metal, and he deftly turned it into a flame that lapped at the kindling hungrily.
“Where are we? This place is so beautiful and yet it seems almost surreal. Is this heaven, then?” I asked.
He added more substantial wood to the fire and stood up. “I’m glad that you like it. But no, it’s not heaven. Not really. It's my home, Eilean Donan.” He swept his arm out in front of him to include everything in view. “The castle, the land, the sea, the cottages, the stables. It all belonged to my family, the MacRaes and the MacKenzies. I lived here as a lad. Once upon a time, that is.” His voice had a wistful quality to it, of a great sadness reconciled long ago. Wanting to comfort him, I reached out and touched his arm. His hand closed over mine with a brief squeeze.
“Tell me about yourself. We’ve enough time yet.” He sat down and I settled in next to him.
My mind was a blank. “What’s there to tell? I just started college a few months ago. My parents got divorced last year and have used me as a pawn in their tug of war against one another.” I frowned and tried to come up with something more cheerful to talk about. “Let’s see… I like to sing.”
“Sing me a song then. I’d love to hear you sing.”
I shook my head, embarrassed that I’d brought it up.
“I promise I won’t laugh. Go on.” His blue eyes danced with the firelight and my heart sped up. His sm
ile was wreaking havoc on my insides, so I closed my eyes and took a breath to calm my nerves. I sang the first verse of “Amazing Grace,” the only song that came to mind. To my surprise, my voice came out rich and full, pulsing with a soothing energy. The sound relaxed me and spurred me on so that I built with confidence to the last verse.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun
The final note hung in the air like a delicious scent and when I opened my eyes, he grinned and clapped enthusiastically.
“Bravo! That was beautiful. You’ve a very lovely voice.” I returned his smile and thanked him, thrilled with his praise. “A perfect song, too,” he said. “’Tis true, that. A man could stay here for ten thousand years and it’d be just as if one day had gone by. And yet other times, the days speed by faster than you want them to.” He looked at me with a curious expression and I wondered what he meant.
“You said you’re here to take me from earth to heaven,” I said, “but that this isn’t heaven. You also said you’d seen an angel but that you aren’t one. Have you met God as well? Are we going to go to heaven, then?”
The last question seemed to subdue him, as if he’d been expecting it but not looking forward to it. “No, I haven’t met God face-to-face yet, though I feel His presence with me all the time.”
“What do you mean you feel His presence? What does it feel like?”
“It's hard to explain. My uncle taught me about something called gravity that pulls you down to the ground and keeps you from flying off into the sky like a bird. I guess God is like that. His presence is a tether that keeps me and holds me,” he said with a shrug.