Excerpt of My Highland Bride by Maeve Greyson

KENTUCKY—TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY

The fire popped and crackled in the cast-iron stove, but
Granny’s voice came through the red-hot coals loud and
clear. “It’s time, Kenna—time for you to join us here in
the thirteenth century.”

Kenna balanced the bowl of popcorn on the arm of the
couch and leaned toward the open grating of the stove.
The handful of popcorn she’d just shoved in her mouth at
the exact moment of Granny’s announcement threatened to
strangle her. Kenna coughed, swallowed hard, and thumped
her fist against her chest.

“Come again, Granny?” She wheezed in a deep breath, then
hurriedly gulped down a sip of iced tea to wash away the
knot of popcorn lodged in her throat. “You want all of us
to join you and Trulie? Permanently?” Please say it’s
just time for a short visit. I’d love to see you and
Trulie . . . for a short visit.

“No. Not all of you. Just you. It’s time you came back
and grabbed hold of your destiny.” Granny paused. The
only sound coming from the woodstove was the lively
crackling of the fire. Granny’s firm tone silenced the
sound of the flames as she continued, “The twins will be
staying in the twenty-first century for a bit longer.”

Kenna unfolded from her cross-legged position on the
couch. What if she didn’t want to grab her destiny in
thirteenth-century Scotland? What if she liked it right
here in twenty-first-century Kentucky just fine? Yes,
seeing Granny and Trulie would be wonderful, but there
was just too much going on here to leave right now. Life
was finally starting to settle down and run smoothly. It
was kind of nice living like normal people for a change—
or as close to normal as a girl born to a long line of
women able to jump back and forth across time ever got.

“The twins are graduating this month. Tell Trulie the
terrible twosome turned into a pair of intelligent
eighteen-year-old beauties,” Kenna said, hoping that if
she changed the subject Granny might back off a bit. But
that was another thing. Even though her baby sisters were
eighteen years old, how could Granny suggest leaving them
alone to fend for themselves? Granted, Mairi and Lilia
were mature for their age, but they still weren’t ready
to get booted from the nest and fly solo.

Kenna scooted to the edge of the couch and propped her
elbows on her knees. She had to buy them all some time.
“Lilia’s creating her own line of natural cosmetics for
the shop. She’s already got every teenage girl in town
clamoring for the lip gloss she developed.”

The flames lengthened and danced faster across the chunks
of wood. The coals fanned a hotter orange-red as Granny’s
tone took on a decided edge. “Tell the girls I’m very
proud of them and it’ll be their time to join us soon.
I’m sending an old friend to look after them, since
you’re coming to join us now. Eliza will help them sort
through whatever they might need until their time to come
back to us arrives. They have a bit longer to hone their
skills in the twenty-first century before I call them
back to the past.”

So the twins got to enjoy more time with indoor plumbing,
Internet, and take-out pizza but she didn’t? Why did she
have to leave now? “But Granny, I need—”

“Enough, Kenna. You knew this time was coming, and you
know better than to argue with me once I’ve made up my
mind.”

Kenna blew out a huffing breath. Isn’t that the freakin’
truth. Arguing with Granny was a lot like arguing with
the weather. Both did as they damn well pleased no matter
what anyone said. But maybe she could at least get away
with bargaining for a little reprieve.

“Just give me a month.” Kenna held her index finger up
closer to the fire. She couldn’t see Granny, so she
didn’t think her elder had opened the fire portal enough
to create a viewing window, but you never knew for sure
with Granny. “Give me one solid month to get everything
ready before I jump back.” Surely Granny would grant her
some time to get things settled . . . and maybe in that
time, if she thought about it really hard, she could
figure out an excuse Granny wouldn’t be able to deny that
would allow her to stay comfortably ensconced in modern
times for a few more years—at least.

“One week.”

“A week?” Kenna scooted off the couch and knelt in front
of the woodstove. “I can’t be ready to jump the web in
just a week. That’s impossible.”

“Make it possible, Kenna. One week is all you get.”