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afternoon.  She paused and turned to look up at the castle, the walls dark in the shadows of the early morning.  It looked nothing like it had when she arrived yesterday!  Pacing back and forth, she wondered if being in the right spot would whisk her back across the 115 years into the future – perhaps there was an invisible portal or something.  She glanced toward the gates and back up at the keep, still shadowed by the castle. 
    Nothing.
    She found another spot and looked around again. 
    Nothing.
    “Well, hell,” she muttered at her failure to be whisked away back to her own time. She stared blankly out over the rugged countryside.  Obviously it wasn’t going to be that easy. 
    To her right stood the stables in place of the dumpster that had been there the previous day. Flipping a mental coin, Emmy went left and rounded the northern corner of the building, coming quickly to an abrupt drop-off at the cliffs, which backed the castle.  The castle jutted straight up from those rocky crags, overlooking the Sound of Mull and the mainland of Scotland beyond.  Perfectly built for defense.
    O nly half interested in the architecture, Emmy stared out over the white-tipped wavelets and considered her situation with a clear mind, not one clouded by the distraction that Connor MacLean had presented the previous evening.  Surely something would get her home.  Maybe a repeat of her movements at the same time and place would do the trick.  It had been nearing sunset when she arrived – perhaps she should try again in the afternoon. Perhaps there was a wormhole that appeared regularly at that spot – assuming this was a random phenomenon and not a government accident of sorts.  There was something she remembered – maybe from Star Trek – that a time portal or wormhole might not appear in the same place twice.  Perhaps being in the same spot wouldn’t work.  Wasn’t that how Voyager got stuck out in the Delta Quadrant? Maybe not.  Emmy couldn’t remember.  She loved a good sci-fi movie but they tended to blur together after a while.  Plus, she wasn’t sure how the science translated into reality… if it did at all.  That’s why it was called science fiction .  As for reality, she could remember nothing about Einstein’s theories on the whole mess.  What if there was nothing she could do?  Emmy had never been good at waiting for others to fix problems for her.  She was more proactive than that.
    She leaned over the edge of the drop-off and stared down.  It was not a cliff so much as an extremely steep hill with sharp, angular rocks jutting out from it now and then.  And it ended not at the water but rather at a plain that angled out to the water. That beach of sorts was rocky and harsh. No plant life softened this landscape.  It was lovely. She raised a hand to shade her eyes against the morning sun.  The sun glistened and glinted off the rough waters left over from the night’s storms as they splashed and hit the rocks far below.  The roar of the waves was louder here filling her ears with their crash and growl.  It was violent and terrific.  Awe-inspiring, just as she had hoped it would be.
    “It’s phenomenal,” she whispered in wonder.
     
    “Ye were once afraid to come out here,” came that deep, delicious voice from behind her.  Emmy jumped just a bit in surprise and Connor caught her arm to steady her.  “Careful now, ye dinnae want to fall over the edge.  Or were ye planning to jump?  ‘Tis nae far enough to kill, I think, but ye could do yerself some damage.”
    “I would think you’d be glad to see me go.”  Memories of the previous night’s dream-disturbed sleep assailed her once again as the heat of his hand seared through her jacket and warmed her arm.  One touch, she couldn’t believe it.  One impersonal touch and she was quivering in her boots with desire.  Emmy pulled her arm away and he let her go, crossing his arms across his broad chest.  “How did you know