Page 52 of The Love Leap

He grabs my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Let’s do this!” he says, and we spring into motion, fueled by adrenaline and a shared desire for what comes next.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hand in hand,we navigate our way back to the village, our senses heightened for any hint of pursuit.

“Ye must have knocked him out cold,” Cal quips, glancing over his shoulder but finding no sign of anyone tailing us.

“I aimed low and kicked hard. He won’t be running anywhere anytime soon,” I reply with a smirk.

Once we’re back at Fiona’s mother’s house—the agreed rendezvous point—we ascend the creaky stairs to the secret attic bedroom, where Fergus, Alistair, and Fiona wait anxiously. The moment they see us walk in, their faces light up with relief and joy.

Fiona practically lunges at us, her arms wide open. “Thank the heavens, ye’re both safe!” she cries, pulling us into a bone-crushing hug. Alistair follows suit, his hand landing on Cal’s back with a heartythump that echoes through the room. His usually stoic face is lit up with an uncharacteristic grin. “Well done, lad,” he chimes in, pride evident in his voice. “Knew ye’d bring our lass back.”

A knowing glance passes between Cal and me. It’s time to spill our peculiar beans.

“Listen up, everyone,” Cal starts, the gravity of his tone instantly silencing the room. “There’s something crucial we need to share with ye all. Amelia and I... we’re not exactly from… here.”

“Aye,” Fergus pipes up with a nod of understanding. “That’s been as clear as Loch Ness on a sunny day. Ye reek of Glasgow charm.”

Cal shakes his head, eyes piercing with concern as he corrects him: “Not quite what we meant, Fergus. We’re… from the future.”

The following silence is so profound it feels like someone hit the pause button on life itself. Even the Highland winds outside seem to hold their breath for a moment.

I half-expect our friends to laugh at our outrageous claim, but instead, Fergus squints at us suspiciously.

“From the future, aye? Have ye been dancing with the whisky fairy again, Cal?”

Unable to contain myself any longer, I erupt into snorting giggles at the sheer absurdity of our situation.

“I know it sounds like we’ve lost our marbles,” Imanage to get out between fits of laughter. “But it’s true! And Cal here... he’s your great-great-great-something grandson! We stumbled on your era through the Loch Ness Portal, and tonight, under the full moon’s blessing, we might just have a shot at returning home.”

Fiona looks at Alistair, who glances at Fergus, who scratches his head in utter bewilderment. The air thickens with disbelief and curiosity.

“Loch Ness Portal? Future?” Alistair grumbles skeptically. He pauses, scratching his beard. “So ye mean to tell me there are no more bloody English invasions?”

“And do they finally invent trousers that don’t chafe?” Fergus chimes in, earning a round of laughter.

Fiona is quiet for a breath. Then she turns to me: “And what about the black pudding? Is it still as scrumptious?”

“Well,” I drawl, mischief sparking in my eyes. “It’s still delicious. And if you think the wheel was a game-changer, brace yourselves for Wi-Fi!”

Cal shoots me a look that screams, “Easy Mills, we’re not here to rupture the space-time continuum,” and quickly interjects. “Though it’s also a vortex of wasted hours, so perhaps best left unexplored.” I furrow my brows at him. All we’re doing is confusing them more.

The room explodes into a cacophony of questionsas our friends begin making wild guesses about the future, from flying cows to kilts with built-in heaters. Cal admits that one is a good idea, especially for Canadians like me, and chuckles that he’ll have to patent it if we ever get home.

Fiona finally raises her hands, commanding silence with a grin that mirrors mine.

“Alright! No use arguing over spilled whisky. If ye need our help to return to yer... future... then ye have it.” Her words have an air of finality, her bright eyes twinkling with determination.

Alistair nods, his hand casually resting on the hilt of his sword. “Aye,” he assures us, “we’ll have yer backs and guide ye to the hidden trail behind the house. If any of those goons from the rival clan come sniffin’ around, we’re prepared to fend them off.”

With a booming laugh that could probably shake the Highlands themselves, Fergus raises his sword as if presenting it to a king.

“Ye may need this when heading towards that enchanted loch, lad! May your journey be as wild and unforgettable as your time with us!”

Cal’s eyes glint with unsaid emotions as he accepts the blade. They share a backslap like brothers with an age-old warrior bond. I blink back the tears.

So. This is what it would look like if Ancestry.com had a reality show.

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