The Highlander's Vow (Loch Moigh #4) by Barbara Longley

surroundings.”
    “Understandable under the circumstances.”
    “I too will do my best to . . . to . . .”
    “Stay out of my head?” He shot her a grin.
    “Aye.” Her blush deepened, and she turned to stare out the window.
    “Are you going to eat that bagel, or just hold it on your lap all morning?” Struan took a bite of his, eliciting a growl from his stomach. “Try it, Sky. I trow you’ll find it most pleasing.”
    She took a hesitant nibble. Her features once again took on an intense look of concentration. Her brow rose slightly. “Aye, ’tis quite good. Sweet.” Her next bite was much larger.
    One bagel wasn’t going to be enough for him, and he regretted not taking another before they’d left camp. He finished his bagel, keeping one eye on Sky, and the other on the road ahead. “You going to eat both halves? They are really big bagels.”
    She laughed, and her eyes sparkled. “You remind me of my younger brothers, always hovering over my trencher on the chance that I might leave some tasty morsel. ‘Are you going to eat that?’ seems to be a common question no matter the century. Are young men never full?”
    “Never.” The sound of her laughter made his insides do a slip-slide. “’Tis hard work being a man, even more so whilst young and still growing.”
    “I can only imagine.” She handed him half her bagel and set the other half on the dashboard with only a few bites missing. “Will you tell me a bit about where we’re going?”
    “Aye. My family owns a thousand-acre farm that lies in a valley amongst the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. ’Tis very much like Scotland there, with rolling hills, mountains, lochs, burns and thick forests.” He glanced at her, pride swelling his chest. “A year past, I was able to purchase five hundred acres of land for myself from an old man whose farm abuts ours. My home lies just across the road from theirs.”
    “You’re a laird then.”
    “Not in the way you mean it. I have no villeins or serfs. Anyone may own land in this time and place. We don’t have overlords or nobility, and our leaders are elected. We have the freedom to become whatever we wish. I also own a business, so I’m a landowner and a merchant.”
    “And a knight.” She smiled.
    “Nay, lass.” He shook his head. “I was never knighted. As you said yourself, I was but ten and four when I came here.”
    “Still, had you continued your training, you would have been knighted, surely.”
    “Mayhap, had I lived through Halidon Hill.” Did his rank matter so much to her? Of course it did. She was an earl’s legitimate daughter. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the taunts and derision from his youth echoing through his mind. He forced his thoughts back to the present.
    “We’ve a small, spring-fed loch on our land, and a burn that runs the entire length of the valley. ’Tis perfect for the kine my brother Ethan raises. He produces milk, which he sells to a nearby dairy. He also raises goats and sells the milk to a gourmet cheese-maker. Ethan used to perform at the fairs with me, but once Michael was old enough to take over the jousting and swordplay, Ethan took to farming full-time.”
    Sky nodded. “Sounds lovely.”
    “It is. I’ve a grand life here. I make a great living, and I have a wonderful family and good friends.”
    “And . . . is there a lady?” Sky asked, her attention fixed upon the side of the road.
    Struan’s heart pounded. “Nay.” He glanced at her, inordinately pleased by the blush his answer brought to her cheeks.
    “With your kin lost to you, will the Gordons make a match for you in their stead?”
    “That’s no’ how things are done in the twenty-first century, Sky. If we meet someone who appeals to us, we ask them out on a date, get to know them without chaperones hovering about.”
    “Nay,” she cried, her eyes wide.
    “Aye,” he assured her. “In this time, men and women wed for love, and they choose their partners