KENTUCKY—TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY

The fire popped and crackled in the cast-iron stove, but Granny’s voice came through the red-hot coals loud and clear. “It’s time, Kenna—time for you to join us here in the thirteenth century.”

Kenna balanced the bowl of popcorn on the arm of the couch and leaned toward the open grating of the stove. The handful of popcorn she’d just shoved in her mouth at the exact moment of Granny’s announcement threatened to strangle her. Kenna coughed, swallowed hard, and thumped her fist against her chest.

“Come again, Granny?” She wheezed in a deep breath, then hurriedly gulped down a sip of iced tea to wash away the knot of popcorn lodged in her throat. “You want all of us to join you and Trulie? Permanently?” Please say it’s just time for a short visit. I’d love to see you and Trulie . . . for a short visit.

“No. Not all of you. Just you. It’s time you came back and grabbed hold of your destiny.” Granny paused. The only sound coming from the woodstove was the lively crackling of the fire. Granny’s firm tone silenced the sound of the flames as she continued, “The twins will be staying in the twenty-first century for a bit longer.”

Kenna unfolded from her cross-legged position on the couch. What if she didn’t want to grab her destiny in thirteenth-century Scotland? What if she liked it right here in twenty-first-century Kentucky just fine? Yes, seeing Granny and Trulie would be wonderful, but there was just too much going on here to leave right now. Life was finally starting to settle down and run smoothly. It was kind of nice living like normal people for a change— or as close to normal as a girl born to a long line of women able to jump back and forth across time ever got.

“The twins are graduating this month. Tell Trulie the terrible twosome turned into a pair of intelligent eighteen-year-old beauties,” Kenna said, hoping that if she changed the subject Granny might back off a bit. But that was another thing. Even though her baby sisters were eighteen years old, how could Granny suggest leaving them alone to fend for themselves? Granted, Mairi and Lilia were mature for their age, but they still weren’t ready to get booted from the nest and fly solo.

Kenna scooted to the edge of the couch and propped her elbows on her knees. She had to buy them all some time. “Lilia’s creating her own line of natural cosmetics for the shop. She’s already got every teenage girl in town clamoring for the lip gloss she developed.”

The flames lengthened and danced faster across the chunks of wood. The coals fanned a hotter orange-red as Granny’s tone took on a decided edge. “Tell the girls I’m very proud of them and it’ll be their time to join us soon. I’m sending an old friend to look after them, since you’re coming to join us now. Eliza will help them sort through whatever they might need until their time to come back to us arrives. They have a bit longer to hone their skills in the twenty-first century before I call them back to the past.”

So the twins got to enjoy more time with indoor plumbing, Internet, and take-out pizza but she didn’t? Why did she have to leave now? “But Granny, I need—”

“Enough, Kenna. You knew this time was coming, and you know better than to argue with me once I’ve made up my mind.”

Kenna blew out a huffing breath. Isn’t that the freakin’ truth. Arguing with Granny was a lot like arguing with the weather. Both did as they damn well pleased no matter what anyone said. But maybe she could at least get away with bargaining for a little reprieve.

“Just give me a month.” Kenna held her index finger up closer to the fire. She couldn’t see Granny, so she didn’t think her elder had opened the fire portal enough to create a viewing window, but you never knew for sure with Granny. “Give me one solid month to get everything ready before I jump back.” Surely Granny would grant her some time to get things settled . . . and maybe in that time, if she thought about it really hard, she could figure out an excuse Granny wouldn’t be able to deny that would allow her to stay comfortably ensconced in modern times for a few more years—at least.

“One week.”

“A week?” Kenna scooted off the couch and knelt in front of the woodstove. “I can’t be ready to jump the web in just a week. That’s impossible.”

“Make it possible, Kenna. One week is all you get.”