Part One

One of the many things I learned about James Fraser, was that he loved to eat! As I drove along in the truck I purchased with Dom’s money, Jamie was finishing his third cheeseburger. “Lass, are ye sure ye are filled up enough wi’ that.....milkshake?”

“Yeah....” I replied tiredly, grateful for automatic transmission and power steering. “I don’t have much of an appetite when I hurt too much. But thanks.”

He belched softly, murmuring a polite "excuse me" as he wiped his face with a paper napkin. “This zipper is uncomfortable!” He toyed with the front of his jeans.

“See? You should have let me get you underwear,” I said with a hint of smugness.

“Mmmph. I willna wear underwear, too. `Tis hot enough as it is.” He leaned back against the seat. “This year two thousand is amazing. Pre-made clothing for people....toys for children and adults....” He sighed, it was apparent he was still very mystified by what this century had to offer.

“Kind of amazing isn’t it?” I clicked on the radio and adjusted it to a station that played eighties music.

“Women look like men!” He growled suddenly. “And the ones that dinna look like....whores.”

“It’s the whole women’s lib thing....I’m not exactly into it though. Sure, I believe in equal rights, but I think things have gone too far. Just my opinion though.”

“Ye are wearing jeans though.”

“Traipsing cross country in a dress wouldn’t make much sense, Jamie. And hey, at least I am not wearing a micro mini.” I started to giggle. The Scottish barbarian was horrified by micro minis.

He harrumphed again, making me wonder if Scotsmen always spoke in a series of grunts and other noises. “The jeans arena bad,” he relented. “But they fit ye too well. Makes me distracted.”

I smiled happily. “Get used to it. This is the way the world is....and if you can never get home, you will have to get accustomed to the way things work in this century.”

“I willna change what I believe,” he gruffed.

“No one says you have to,” I replied gently.

“And e’eryone will accept that?” He snorted.

“No....well....I accept you as you are, Jamie. I realize what a shock for you it was to pop up here....But I cannot say I am sorry you showed up.”

“Nor am I, lass. You really should teach me how to drive this.....contraption. Ye look exhausted.”

“All in good time. The next town we reach, we can get a hotel room for the night. I figure we will head East, then up to New York...I’m not sure about a hotel though, someone might recognize us....Maybe we should stop at a gas station and pick up some food, a few dishes, a cooler, and some dry ice fo--”

“Dry ice?” He interrupted, perplexed.

“Dry ice.....is...well, it’s really really cold, colder than any ice you could touch, it’s so cold, it can freeze off your digits. They usually come in a container, still frozen. You stick them in a cooler, and you can put foods that need to be kept cool in there....”

“Mmmmphhh.” He nodded. “Some o’ this.....newness, amazes me. Abundant food, vehicles that run on gas rather than riding horses....”

“Modern medicine, flushing toilets, running water, electricity....” I added, having explained a few of those concepts earlier.

“A miracle and a curse,” he stated, stretching his legs.

“Why a curse?”

“People take it for granted, you ken? People look e’en angrier than people o’ my time. I heard a child swear at his father, were I th’ father, I would have given him a tannin’ that would leave him standin’ for a week.”

I winced at the thought, glancing at Jamie’s very large hands. “Slavery was abolished....”

“I didna say `twas all bad, but I canna say that I like it all when I do no’, ye ken?”

“Yeah....” I sighed. The twenty-first century definitely held a batch of problems. Drugs, violence, pollution....the list would likely be at least ten miles long. And Jamie had only seen a part of what the world was like. He was in for a lot of surprises.

“I didna mean to make you feel sad.” He rested a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“I just don’t feel all that well,” I answered, telling the truth. “Tell me something about yourself....”

He chuckled softly. “I’m the most stubborn arse ye shall ever meet.”

I smiled, his tone was so sweet when he had said it, and intuition told me he was telling the truth. “I’m pretty stubborn myself,” I informed him.

“Och! I canna believe it!” He feigned shock and laughed when I started to blush.

“You are a tease,” I retorted.

“Aye, but I made ye smile, did I no’?”

“Yeah. You did.” I kept thinking about what would be necessary for the trip. “Got the meds I need.....I have the first aid kit. We’ll need bread, something to drink, ohh and I guess canned food would be good, but then we will also need a can opener....If we stopped at the next mall, we could get some sleeping bags....and chocolate. I love chocolate--Sorry, I am rambling.”

He made that sound in his throat once again. “Ye have a bonny voice, lassie. I like hearing it.”

I could feel the tips of my ears burning with embarrassment. “I was in choir for a few years, but then....” I trailed off, not wanting to bore him.

“Then what?” he pressed, his hand still on my shoulder.

“I was put in a different foster home.” I concentrated on the road as I frowned. “I was very young when my parents died....I guess they had no direct family, so I was put in a foster home.....” I confessed. “Never did stay in one place very long.”

“Ye must have been verra lonely,” he commented empathetically.

“It was. I felt like I belonged nowhere....How about you? Did you leave a lot of family behind?”

“Aye. M’ sister Jenny for one....M’ parents are dead....but I have uncles and aunts and cousins....but they wouldna be living in this time now.”

“I’m guessing you want to go back to your own time?”

“I have the feelin’ that I canna get back.” He shrugged and made that same Scottish noise in his throat.

“You sure are noisy,” I teased. “What is with men and their grunt language?”

He harrumphed, but I could tell he was laughing. “Ye are funny, lassie.”

“A total riot, I’m sure,” I returned dryly.

“I mean it. Ye keep makin’ me smile.”

“I guess that’s a good thing.” I glanced in the rearview mirror, a black van was driving three cars behind us.

“`Tis verra good. All people need to laugh,” he informed me. “It brings good health.”

“Laughter, the best medicine,” I nodded. “Wish it would heal all my sore spots.”

“Ye are in much pain?” His voice was thick with concern.

“It’s just kinda steady. I think I’ll be all right...I had better be, considering we are most definitely on the run now...Those types of Scientists won’t give up until they find us....”

“Are ye sure about that?”

“Oh yeah.....Scientists would give their eyeteeth up to learn more about time travel. You would be turned into a lab rat. Likely, I would be, too, since I happened to be the first one who saw you.”

He heaved a sigh. “`Twill never change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mmmph. Someone is always out to kill someone.”

“Sad but true,” I agreed. “Though, you dealt more with wars, right? I mean, I know clans fought with one another, but I also know that the English and you Scots were always at odds.”

He nodded. “`Twas happening in the New World as well, from what I learned. Tha’s where we are?”

I blinked with surprise. “Well yeah.....Only now, we are the United States of America.” I turned the truck to the left. “You’re educated. You can read.”

He nodded. “M’ father wanted us educated.” The Scotsman turned his head and commented. “Lass, if I didna know any better, I would say we are bein’ followed.”

I ground my teeth together. He was correct, the black van was two car spaces behind us. “Maybe it’s just coincidence?”

“Ye look scairt lass. Lyin’ willna make it disappear,” he said quietly.

“I might just be paranoid.” I whispered, premonition creeping up my spine as the van closed in on us. I heard the sound of glass breaking, I gripped the wheel and screamed, feeling a hot pain through my shoulder. “God help us!”

“Lass, let me--”

Those were the last words I heard before a dizzying blackness closed over me, putting my life into the hands of death, enemies, or James Fraser.

Part Two

I slid in an out of a hellish sleep. My shoulder felt like it was a roaring inferno of pain, at one point, I felt like some evil creature slid a sharp knife into it, later, pouring liquid fire over it. I moaned and cried, allowing the blackness to sweep over me.

I awoke again, too weak to open my eyes, hearing the sound of an engine. Where was Jamie? I wondered before sleep consumed me once more.

I felt something very cold on my shoulder and gasped, awakening.

“Easy, lass,” came the now familiar, lilting Scottish brogue. “Ye are safe.”

I realized I was lying facedown, on a bed. “What?” I murmured weakly. “Where are we? What happened?”

He was holding some kind of ice pack on my shoulder. He placed a cold, wet towel across my upper back which burned and ached. “Weel....” He pulled in a long breath. “Ye were shot, though, I ha’ ne’er seen a musket ball shaped like that. I pushed on the brake, as ye call it, pushed ye on the floor and--”

“My goodness!” I intercepted weakly. “You drove!”

“Aye, spent enough hours watchin’ ye do it, I reckon. I drove fast and went onto another road and kept driving until I kent I lost them. Ye were bleeding all o’er the place and the...muske--”

“Bullet,” I supplied.

“Bullet. The bullet was deep into the shoulder blade. I found your first aid kit and used m’ dirk to pry it out. Ye are also cut up from all that glass that hit ye.” His tone was filled with worry. “I cleaned the wounds and bandaged ye up. I didna want to wait for those arseholes to catch up so I drove all the way here.”

“Where is here?” I felt dizzy and sick, it was like I had the flu.

“A motel.”

“You are from the eighteenth century yet you drove a truck, saved my life, and checked us into a hotel! I’m impressed!” And I was. He handled the twenty first century better than many would have.

“Mmmph,” he responded.

“And modest too. You deserve the compliment.”

“I did what I had to,” he answered and I could tell he shrugged. “I couldna let ye die.” He changed the subject. “Are ye thirsty?”

“Yeah.”

“Put yer weight on me, lassie and I’ll help ye up.”

Limply, I leaned against him, letting him ease me to a sitting position as he placed several pillows behind me. “I lost a lot of blood.” I suddenly realized I was shirtless and braless. Quickly, I pulled a blanket over me.

“Ye did, but I stopped it for now.” He held a cup to my lips. “Drink slow,” he cautioned.

I sipped the water. “Did you get cut up by the glass?”

“Aye, `twas no’ near as bad as yours.”

The constant pain made me nauseous. “How bad is that?”

“Ye lost far too much blood. I did what I could, I dinna ken medicine like Claire did.”

“What time was she from? Can you hand me my backpack?” I questioned weakly.

He lifted the backpack and set it in front of me. “Nineteen-forty-three.” He sank into a chair next to the bed, his long legs stretched out before him.

“And you married her? Where is she now?” I slid my hand into the backpack, watching him with interest, admiring his handsome, strong face.

“She left me. Had a husband in her own time.” His eyes met mine. “She was to have my bairn.”

“She left you?” I blinked in question as I extracted a bottle of pills from my bag. “How could she leave you if she knew she was carrying your baby?”

“`Twas ten years ago. She did what she had to do to keep the wee one safe. What is that ye are takin’?”

“Pain medication.” I swallowed a pill. “Hopefully, it will ease some of the pain.” I went silent for a moment. “That must have hurt a great deal.”

“Aye...But.....she was marriet before she marriet me.” He shrugged, but the corners of his mouth were turned down.

My heart ached for him. “I’m truly sorry it happened that way....”

“Dinna fash yourself about it, lass.” His blue gaze pierced my amber colored one. “E’erything happens for a reason. I dinna ken all the reasons, but I accept it.”

“Will you ever be able to love again?” I blurted.

He chuckled softly. “Anything is possible, lass.”

I leaned back against the pillows with a sigh, grabbing the remote control that was chained to the night table. A thought occurred to me. “How did you manage getting us the hotel room? You didn’t use my name on the thingy, did you?”

“A thingy?” He laughed. “Ye use such odd expressions. I ‘booked’ us under Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. I told th’ manager that ye had keeled o’er from heat and exhaustion.” He dragged his fingers through his wild mane of red hair.

I felt my belly grow hot as my stare slid across his whole person, pausing at the front of his jeans, remembering his complaint of the tight jeans. The t-shirt stretched tightly over his form, making me realize he would need XXL shirts. I shivered when my gaze slipped along muscular forearms that were generously sprinkled with cinnamon colored hair. And those long fingers that squared off at the tips, I grew completely dizzy imagining what such fingers could do with my body. And damn it anyway, I fell asleep, dreaming of such things.

When I woke up the next morning, I was shivering so badly that my teeth chattered noisily. My whole body ached and my head felt heavy and the lighting seemed overly bright when I opened my eyes. Never, had I felt so ill and weak. I had more energy waking up from some of the surgeries I had gone through.

I uttered a small whimper through parched lips and like magic, a glass filled with water was placed to my lips.

“Slowly, lass,” Jamie said, his voice more vibrant than usual. “I need to get ye into the hospital.”

“No! I will be fine!” I stated, forcing myself to slide my legs to the side of the bed. “We can’t stay here, someone will catch up with us, and I cannot go into the hospital, they will find us that way, too.”

He sat his hand on my forehead. His hand was cool, the skin rough but oh so pleasant. “My God, lassie, ye are burning up!”

I felt a wave of dizziness. “We can’t stay here. I have stuff I can take. Don’t worry.”

“Dinna worry? Ye are verra ill. I will worry!” he spat angrily.

I stood, swaying. “I can take something to reduce the fever. I’m not fond of the idea of being on the road when I feel like this. I would give anything to sleep for a week and heal. I don’t want the wrong people catching up to us.” I paused, studying his face. His eyes held mine steadily, his jaw was set in a stubborn line. “Come on.....I’ll....you can drive! I will rest and let you drive.”

His expression softened only a little. “I still think ye need to see a doctor.”

“Once we are further away, and if I am not getting better. I will. Okay?”

“Mmph. Verra weel, lass. But ye do as I say, aye? I willna allow ye to hurt yerself e’en more. D’ye ken?”

“I understand,” I stated, reaching into the backpack, pulling out a bottle of acetaminophen. “I’ll take a couple of these and rest until the fever goes down and then, I can take a bath. Which reminds me, you could use one yourself.” I rambled on and could have kicked myself. You don’t tell a drop dead gorgeous man that he stinks!

The tall Scotsman was obviously a man of great humor because he answered me with a hearty laugh. “Aye!” he agreed, laughing loudly. “I smell like a giant oxter.”

I sipped my water and swallowed the pills. “What on earth is an oxter?”

He grinned and touched his armpit. “That.”

I coughed. “You are certainly earthier than most males I have known. Come on, I will show you how the bath and shower work.”

He chuckled softly as I took his hand to lead him into the bathroom. I briefly explained how to work the faucets for the bath and what to pull if he decided he wanted a shower.

He understood rather quickly and shooed me out of the bathroom, telling me to rest until he was done.

I slipped back into bed, realizing with horror that I had been nude from the waist up the whole time. My face was burning with embarrassment as I withdrew a large sweat shirt from my bag, yanking it over my head, uttering a cry of pain when I moved too much, hurting the bullet wound.

I closed my eyes, hearing the shower water running. I began to fantasize about the beautiful red haired Scotsman, imagining him soaping his broad hard chest, wondering if it was covered with rust colored curls. I could picture the slight grin tugging at his lips, a knowing grin, as if he knew I fantasized about him. My face grew hot and I suddenly became paranoid that he somehow knew what I was thinking.

I forced my thoughts elsewhere, hoping the pills would work.

I must have dozed for a bit for I heard a sound and opened my eyes. I stifled a gasp as the large six-foot-three Scotsmen, stroked across the room, with only a small towel wrapped about his waist, covering his tush and male equipment. He was all hard muscle, I saw no soft spots on this man. His back was to me, and I flinched when I saw the many scars that covered his back. As a licensed physical therapist and masseuse. Seeing any cause of pain made me ache inside. I wondered what could have caused such damage.

“A whip,” he answered, his back to me. “I was flogged.”

“That’s cruel,” I whispered, my gaze rested on his taut, round buttocks, damning whoever whipped such a beautiful body. “Why?”

He grunted, facing me. His chest was indeed, covered with a generous amount of red fur. My gaze searched his front, noting the small line of hair that trailed below his navel, disappearing underneath the towel. His stomach was flat and hard muscled, something most athletes would give their eyeteeth for. He exhaled. “An Englishman.”

I met his gaze, frowning. “It’s one thing to read the history as to how the English treated the Scots. It’s another to see the results....And to have been on the receiving end. How did you survive that?” I’d had my share of pains in the past, but I had never been whipped so viciously, but because I had been made to suffer, I despised seeing anyone else suffer.

“I told ye I was stubborn, lass,” he said softly. “‘Tis far in the past now.” His fingers touched the bruises on my throat. “I am more concerned for your pain right now, wee lass.”

Sudden tears filled my eyes. His touch was so tender and gentle that I longed to throw myself into his arms and sob all my past hurts away, but I didn’t. I blinked back the tears and swallowed, his gesture having affected my soul. “I.....I should take my bath now.” My heart was throbbing in my chest and I had no idea why.

Jamie helped me to my feet. “Dinna take too long.”

I slowly made my way into the humid bathroom. I ached something fierce and hoped the bath would sooth my muscles. I painfully pulled off my jeans and panties, ignoring the jackknife type pain that surged through the bullet wound. I bit my lip, I had never imagined that a gunshot wound could hurt so much.

Without thinking of the results, I hurriedly pulled off the sweatshirt, which in turn tore off the bandages. I uttered a groan of pain, feeling a stream of hot liquid pour down my back. Then came a stench that was undescribable, making me whirl about, fall to my knees and vomit into the white commode.

I rested my cheek against the seat when I was through, and flushed, glancing behind me. “Oh God!” I cried out weakly, blood mingled with other “gook” was spreading in a puddle on the floor.

Jamie raced into the bathroom clad only in a pair of black jeans I had purchased for him. “Tracy,” he whispered, using my name for the first time.

“Help me?” I pleaded softly.

He started filling the tub with water and then turned to me. “We need to clean that, ye ken?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, beginning to shiver.

“I’ll need to pick ye up, ye’ll need to stay as limp as ye can.”

“I’m naked,” I murmured as he lifted me into his strong arms.

“O’ that, I am well aware,” he replied huskily, setting me into the warm water.

I closed my eyes, trying to relax as he cleansed the wound. “Is it badly infected?”

He grunted. “I’m no’ sure....Something different about this that I canna figure out.” The Scotsmen pulled the plug, draining the red water before adding fresh water. “I dinna like the blood loss.

I opened my eyes, his face was only inches from mine and I realized he had shaved. He smelled so clean and fresh! He grabbed a washcloth and began washing my back.

My eyes fluttered shut as his hands, followed by the washcloth, slid across my flesh. It was, in a way, a dream come true.

From my childhood, well into my teens, I was bounced from foster home to foster home. Some were livable, some were downright hell, none, ever made me feel like I was loved and cared for. I craved affection the way an alcoholic craves a drink. I always wanted to be hugged and kissed, but it was rare that I received such blissful attention. When I did, it was usually some vile creature that wanted to cop a feel.

As a teenager, I was exceptionally careful about expressing my wants and needs. While some of my friends were anxiously talking about their first times, I was still imagining being held, petted and kissed. Except for the romance novels I constantly read, I had no real interest in sex and it did carry into my adulthood. I refused sex until I found someone who was willing to give me the affection that I craved so badly. So far no man really fit the bill, except for the red haired stranger who was gently washing me.

I did have Johnny for affection, but he was just a friend and his girlfriends had expressed their hate for me when I hugged Johnny.

I had really enjoyed my job as a physical therapist for my touch could heal and ease people’s pain, but, being the youngest therapist at the particular facility I worked at. I soon left, joining an exclusive club where I worked as a massage therapist. It was a great job, there were times that I made up to one thousand dollars a day, for some clients who came in, were the best of tippers.

“Lass?” Jamie interrupted my thoughts. “Can ye wash yourself at all?” He paused for a moment, answering his own question. “Nay, moving it will make it bleed worse, I reckon.”

“So you will wash me?” I questioned, my face turning red once more.

“I will have to...I dinna want ye to feel uncomfortable....I am uncomfortable m’self because I do notice how naked ye are and I have to remind m’self that ye are verra injured.”

My stomach felt weak. He was actually attracted to me! I was elated, yet embarrassed for I had never been fully naked with a man before, except with doctors and usually a paper smock covered a person up. “I uh.....I don’t know what to say....”

“I didna mean to embarrass ye, lassie.”

“It’s....it’s okay.” The mere thought of those large calloused hands working lather onto my skin made my knees feel like jelly. I had never been so interested in a male before and it went well beyond his handsomeness. There was a special innocence about him, something not even Johnny carried about. I felt, in some ways, that I knew him for years. Already, I felt an uncommon familiarity when he smiled, those beautiful sapphire, cat like eyes that held much humor and a volume of secrets were those of an old friend or lover.

Gently, he began to wash me, and it was like nothing I had ever experienced before, strong hands with a tender touch, it was like a piece of heaven and I was filled with a sudden longing, different from any longing I had ever felt. My skin grew fevered again, my face feeling exceptionally hot as a fire brewed deep within my belly while my loins grew uncomfortable.

He was a gentleman, careful not to touch my breasts nor did he go directly to the junction of my thighs, and I was grateful. I had never been touched there, and I feared that I wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if his hands decided to do some exploring.

The tub was drained of the slightly bloody water and a towel was wrapped around my shivering, bruised, body. Easily, Jamie lifted me into his arms and carried me out of the small bathroom and towards the bed. “Feel better, lass?” He queried softly.

“Yes.” I was blushing and blushed even more when I saw that his face was bright red. “Thank you, Jamie,” I said shyly.

“Mmph,” he replied in his Scottish way as he set me on the bed. “I need more bandages to re-close that wound. It isna scabbing o’er like it ought to.”

I gulped, worried. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“I dinna know.” He sighed, easing me to my stomach. “The shirt you wore....the back was filled wi’ blood, the bandages as well....so was the bed. The bleeding slowed, but it didna stop.”

“Shit,” I whispered as he began tearing strips of medical tape and gauze.

It took a half hour for Jamie to bandage my back. He would curse, pack the wound with gauze and a few sanitary napkins,trying to slow blood flow. Finally, he managed to slow it enough to tape the wound closed, after that, he taped down several pieces of gauze.

When he finished bandaging me, he helped me dress and repack everything into the backpack.

After fifteen minutes of pleading with him, I convinced him I was well enough to ride in the truck.

As we walked through the small lobby, I grabbed a complimentary magazine to read while Jamie drove. I then spied a map, and grabbed that too.

Once we were in the truck. I spread out the map. “Take this highway, and we will have a clean shot, and I know there are restaurants and gas stations near by, too.”

I glanced back where the back window had been shot up and startled. It looked like nothing had happened. I shot the Scotsman a questioning look.

“While ye slept, I hired someone to fix the window,” he explained. “He did it for fifty dollars.”

I shook my head with surprise, wondering how the redhead had done it, but I refrained from asking, eager to get back on the road.

Several Hours Later

The engine had overheated, and I could keep nothing in my stomach without throwing it back up. We managed to get help from a roly poly man who happened by in a station wagon. He insisted that we stay the night. “The missus wouldn’t mind,” he told us.

Through conversation, we found out the man was a minister. As he and Jamie talked, I slipped my hand into the backpack and pulled out another narcotic to ease my severe pain.

The events after that, were blurry. I remembered being led into a bedroom and falling into a dreamless sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night, shivering and frightened. “Jamie left me here,” I murmured sadly.

“Nay lass, Jamie didna,” he spoke with a small fraction of amusement. “How are ye feeling?”

“Where....?” I glanced down and saw Jamie lying on the floor. “Aww....Jamie, you could have slept on the bed with me.”

“`Twould no’ be proper, lass,” he murmured, shifting positions. “We arena marriet and we are in a minister’s house.”

“You didn’t tell him what happened, did you?” I demanded weakly. I felt very groggy and I still ached all over.

“I told him ye were m’ wife-to-be and that you had fallen ill.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Almost two days. `Twas difficult convincing the minister that he didna need to call a doctor.”

“How are you handling the modern technologies that you’ve been facing?”

He grunted and laughed quietly. “I smile and nod. It still seems to work in this century.”

I laughed quietly. “Yeah, it still can.” I pulled in a sharp breath, it really did hurt to laugh. “We should go soon. Or else they will figure out we aren’t planning to get married.”

“What d’ye mean?”

“Sex.” I was glad the darkness hid my blushing. “Most couples have it before the wedding day.”

“Where have all the morals gone?”

“Down the toilet,” I said sadly. “Marriage isn’t as sacred now. People live together like they are married, but they don’t want the ultimate commitment any longer.”

He grunted. “I’ll no’ follow that. I will follow laws, aye, as long as I dinna think them silly or unnecessary. But I willna change what I believe to conform and follow a world that seems to have decided sin is better,” he stated staunchly.

I was speechless. What he said was most admirable, very few men or women would have the courage to state it, let alone follow it, but I knew with all that I was, that he was sincere.

He continued. “It doesna mean that I willna yearn for it, but `tis better to marry than burn...or make love.”

“I guess...” I said faintly, drawing all the blankets over me, still shivering. “Still wish you wouldn’t sleep on the floor.”

“Well lass, I would sleep on the bed if you would marry me.”

I would have answered the handsome Scot, but I drifted off to sleep once more.

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