I pull in a deep breath, letting the scent of steeped tea leaves tangle with the briny kiss wafting from Moray Firth. Draining my mug with newfound resolve, I set it down on the counter like I’m dropping a gauntlet.
“Alright, then,” I declare to the cottage that feels almost alive. “It’s time to seize this day!”
Having spenta picture-perfect June day sailing Loch Ness’s waters up to Urquhart Castle, Cal suggests an impromptu picnic under the starlit sky by the water’s edge. With our bellies full and heartscontent, we sprawl out in our jeans and sweatshirts on a blue tartan blanket on the beach while moonlight weaves silver threads onto the calm loch.
“You know,” I blurt, shattering our comfortable silence. “I think my book needs a magic haggis hunt.”
Cal chokes on his whisky, the amber liquid teetering dangerously in his glass. His laughter rumbles across the quiet of Loch Ness, bouncing off its glassy surface and pulling a chuckle from me.
“Never met a lass with such a wild imagination and a matching sense of humor,” he admits, his laughter fading into soft chuckles. He slings an affectionate look my way, eyes glistening under the moonlight. “Gotta say, Mills, ye’re rapidly becoming my favorite person to hang out with.”
His words steal my breath away. Heat creeps up my cheeks as I scramble to regain some semblance of control.
“Well,” I start, infusing my voice with light-heartedness to cover up the sudden pounding in my chest. “Here’s an idea: two star-crossed lovers on a hunt for the elusive magical haggis under Scottish moonlight.”
He reclines on his hands, casting his gaze over the glimmering loch. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards into that familiar wry smile as he lets out another low laugh.
“Aye,” he agrees softly, turning back towards mewith that same playful spark in his eye. “There’s an undeniable romance about that.”
He’s quiet for a breath. “But if you’re in for Scottish myths and moonlit romances,” he starts slowly, leaning so close I can make out faint freckles dusting across his nose. His voice drops to a whisper meant only for me.
“Remember what the legend says? When the moon is full, and Loch Ness lies still as untouched glass... ye can peer through time itself.”
His gaze locks onto mine as he continues: “All our past eras just shimmer beneath the surface—forgotten dreams waiting patiently for someone brave or foolish enough to take the leap.”
I grab my whisky glass and gulp down its contents before spitting out in disbelief:
“So what? We cannonball into Loch Ness, and poof!—we’re smack dab in another Scottish era?”
“Not quite.”
I brace myself for him to burst into laughter and tell me it’s all a joke, but instead, his eyes narrow, and his face turns serious.
“It requires a special connection—two souls entwined by destiny.” A shiver trickles down my spine despite the warm summer night.
“Legend has it,” he continues, his gaze never leaving mine, “that if those two people leap into the depths together, the loch’s magic will whisk them away to another time and place.”
My hands are clammy from nervous sweat. “This feels like the kind of magic and spontaneity that’s been AWOL from my life,” I admit, barely above a whisper.
My practical side is now rolling its eyes, dismissing this as nothing more than an enchanting Scottish fairy tale. But here, with Cal under the moon’s soft caress, his eyes reflecting its glow, I’m teetering on the edge of belief and flirting with the idea that we could be those two souls selected to time travel.
“Aye,” he responds softly, his calloused fingers intertwining with mine. “So, what do ye think? Ready to leap into history with me?”
I hesitate, caught between skepticism and the magnetic pull of his words and touch. My combat boots feel like anchors, holding me steady. My rational part is battling with the side that craves to toss caution into the wind and dive headfirst into uncharted waters.
“Cal,” I start, my voice slightly shaky as I carefully pick my words. “Even if it were true, I’m not entirely sold on this idea. Sure, old-world Scotland sounds incredibly romantic, but I have an affinity for modern comforts—plumbing without chamber pots involved, for one thing... and shoes made from more than just leather and nails.”
Cal’s laughter erupts from deep within him. It’s so rich and warm it sends delightful flips through my stomach.
“Well, ye’ve got a point there,” he admits. “But where’s yer adventurous spirit? Come on, lass! Don’t ye want to see if this legend holds any truth?”
Our gazes lock in a silent dare, urging me to step outside my comfort zone. His intense blue eyes hold mine captive while everything else seems to fade away—my doubts, fears, and even these sturdy boots keeping me tethered to our era.
Cal and the tantalizing allure of magic luring us forward are the only things that matter now.
Plus, damn it, he dared me. Since my university days, when my engineering friends dared me to take a cherry-strawberry Jello ice bath to see if they could set it, I’ve had difficulty resisting a good dare.
“Alright,” I whisper back, surprised at my courage. “Let’s do this! Let’s wade into Loch Ness and see what happens.”
