Scotland, 1106

Kevin MacGreagor stood on a wooded hillside with his legs apart and his hands clasped behind his back. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the women in the meadow. A Highlander and a giant of a man, he had blond curls and blue-gray eyes. A soft blue dominated the color of his kilt, a length of matching cloth over one shoulder covered half his white shirt, and his leather shoes were laced up to his knees.

She was magnificent. Her long black hair hung down to her waist, and her soft golden skirt caught on the long grass as she walked, released and then caught again. She wore a purple tunic with a woven leather belt and a medallion that hung low on one hip. On her shoulder, she carried a bow and a leather sheath filled with arrows.

He heard it before he saw the huge black stallion breaking through the trees at a trot, but her back was turned and she didn't seem to notice. The stallion was headed straight for her and Kevin had only just opened his mouth to shout a warning when the stallion slowed to a walk. Gently, the horse nudged her back. The woman giggled, but didn't turn around and kept right on walking. Determined, the black followed and nudged her again. This time, she laughed out loud and shook her head. Her laughter was wonderful and Kevin wanted to hear it again.