“Whatever you do, don’t get separated from the group.” The hiking guide’s words echoed in her mind as Bonnie Donald fruitlessly searched for the trail that her tour group had been following. Vast trees rose around her with frightening shadows. She had wandered off from the group at lunch to seek out the sound of a lovely woodland trickle of water she could hear just out of earshot. She hadn’t found it and now she couldn’t find her way back. Which way was the picnic pavilion?

The rest of the group had been nice enough but not very friendly. Bonnie felt that her money was going to waste from joining the group, which had been her attempt to rejoin the land of the living after the death of her grandmother, who Bonnie had nursed through the poor woman’s long illness. She had wanted to socialize again and make friends. But growing up an orphan with an elderly lady as her primary companion had not made Bonnie very hip to pop culture references and the other stuff the young men and women in her Christian hiking group talked about.

And now she had allowed her sense of being different to make her stand apart from the others. Loneliness even in the crowd sent her on a wild goose chase for something more satisfying to her soul, like proof of the Lord’s hand in creating a majestic waterfall, and now she was lost in the woods. She stopped and brushed back her long mouse brown hair with just a hint of wave. She usually wore it in a prim bun but had left it down so she would look like the other girls, who had curly perms and blonde dyed streaks in their fashionable mains. Even one of the men, who had tried to hit on her but Bonnie hadn’t been attracted to him, had colored blonde hair. Did that make him Mr. Clairol?

And still, here she was with no path, no supplies, and the sound of the trickling water teased her delicate ears. Maybe if she found the source of the enticeing sound she could then find her way back to the pavilion where the hiking group had stopped for lunch. Surely if it was as beautiful as it sounded there would be a trail or a mile marker and they could find her.

Unless they never noticed she was gone, because she always blended into the background.

Bonnie cursed her tendency to wear earth toned shapeless garments and no makeup. If she had looked more like the other girls with their tight jeans and bright shirts, people would have noticed her and would be looking for her now instead of leaving her to fend for her self in the wilderness. Yes, she definitely wasn’t getting her money’s worth if the group leader in charge just ran off uncaring that one of his members was missing!

She should have just spent her money on the movies and books she loved to lose herself in instead. Bonnie had never felt quite right in this time or century. Perhaps it was just living with her old Scottish grandmother whose tales of leprechauns and Scottish clan feuds spiced up Bonnie’s days. She lived more in her grandmother’s memories than she did in the twentieth century, make that the twenty first century, she lost track sometimes. She loved the old-time movies like Last of the Mohicans and Braveheart about magnificent warriors and times when life and love were simpler, meant something. After she would watch these movies, she would dream that she had lived then and only now was living the true dream, a bad dream of a blah existence. Characters and colors populated her dreams that sometimes seemed more real to her than her few friends at school or her job as an office clerk in a real estate office.

Bonnie sighed at the sad memory of her grandmother. Nana would have wanted Bonnie to make friends after her passing and that was why Bonnie had joined the hiking group, because she had always loved the land and loved to read books about how to survive in the wilderness. What plants to eat and how to make a fire, just like pioneer women in the olden times. She guessed she hadn’t read the right books though becaues she couldn’t even tell East from West and find her way back to the pavilion!

Let’s see, the sun set in the West, and they had stopped for lunch at noon after a long hike through the wilderness on a rocky trail. The sun was now at about a two o’clock position. Bonnie set out again between the boles of the ancient oak trees in search of the trickling water sound. Had she seen this tree with the broken branch before? Off to her left a long howl of a wolf startled her and her heart leapt in her chest like a rabbit. She knew they had released wolves in this park recently and perhaps the animals were stalking her! She set off at a run. If she could just reach the water and cross the stream the wolves could not smell and follow her scent! The wolf howled again, closer, and she fancied she could hear hunger in its eager tones. She ran blindly through the thick underbrush until suddenly the ground dropped out from under her! She fell and blackness ensued.

* * *

“Oh my aching head!” Bonnie woke to the loud sound of water rushing over rocks and not the growling of vicious wild canines like she had feared. She opened her eyes and the greenery around her nearly assaulted her senses with its bright health. Heather and other fragrant flowers made her bed while her head lay near the rocky bank of a rushing stream. She looked up at the embankment she had tumbled down in her terrified flight through the woods. She did not hear wolves now but could tell from the position of the sun in the sky that several hours had passed. Surely the hiking group had gone on without her, yet it hurt her that they would do so and not even care to search.

Bonnie sat up and a sense of unreality seized her senses. It was almost as if she had traveled to another plane of existence while she had been unconsious. This did not look like the forest she had last seen. It was somehow wilder and more verdantly alive. Strange odors taunted her nostrils. She felt every crumb of dirt rubbed into her hands and knees from her fall and sweat stuck her hair to her face. She could smell things better than ever before. Perhaps this was what happened after a near death experience, one could appreciate life more?

This wasn’t a disaster, it was rather enjoyable to feel so connected to the land. She looked around her little haven. The stream formed a bubbling bowl with fronds and plants around the edges like a spring fed into it underground. The clearing had the embankment on one side and was almost perfectly round, with rounded grey boulders close to the circumference. There were even mushrooms planted amidst the standing stones. It was almost...mystical in its perfect pattern.

She remembered tales Nana had told of maids who had wandered into the Scottish hills into faery rings only to be taken by the fairy clans. When the maids escaped they were said to possess a fey power and wisdom and the ability to tell the future. A shudder passed over her. Why would she think of that just now, just because the heather near her assualted her senses like an expensive perfume? Just because she sat in a small glen in a circle of stones? She was being silly.

Well, at least she had found the source of that water! The beautiful woodland glen was just as she had imagined it when she could detect the peaceful noises just beyond her hearing. It was almost as if she sensed it here calling her, like a destiny. A sense of peace stole over her, peace she had hardly known in her life, and belonging. It was what she’d wanted to find without knowing it.

The cool clear water in the round pool with a waterfall at one side looked so inviting and it was so hot. Bonnie looked around and didn’t see any people. If they hadn’t found her yet they wouldn’t find her in the next hour or so and she could seize these moments for herself to enjoy this wonderful peace and communion with the earthen land. And do something she had always secretly longed to do but had never had the chance. Again, Nana’s stories came to her mind. When a maid bathed on Summerlin’s Day in the sacred glen her true love would come to her. Bonnie had never even had a false love, much less a true one, so this tale only made her laugh.

She stripped off her dirty shirt and jeans and revealed to the birds and bees her voluptous body that did not suit the fashions of this time. She was happy to take off the uncomfortable thong underwear that the saleslady had said all the girls were wearing when Bonnie shopped for new clothes for this expedition. She tenderly unclasped her red bra, the color daring against her pale, porcelain skin, and released pink tipped breasts. Defiantly bear to the open air. She shook back her long, tangled locks that just brushed the top of her curved bottom, unaware of her own sensuality though she was unawakened. She had no idea the effect she had on men like the Mr. Clairol who had expressed interest in her. Her ripe sensuality called to men like a siren’s call but her blue eyes reflecting widely at her in the mirrorlike waters of the pool were as innocent as a doe.

Bonnie stepped daintily into the pool and gasped to find it secretly warmed from some underground fed spring. It was cooler than bathwater but somehow more sensual, more exciting. She found herself sinking into the pool as if it were the embrace of a man she’d never known. Soon she was floating and laughing in the water with a carefree attitude that was new and wonderful. She felt a freedom from restraints and dove in and out of the waterfall like a fish. Unaware that she was being observed....

Laird Douglas Campbell gaped at the sight before him. A maid of unsurpassed beauty cavorted in the woodland pool where he had come to bathe, a pool he thought only he as Laird of Clan Campbell knew about. The secret glen had a reputation for being a portal to the faery world but he had never believed it. He would be the only one to know about the pool until he could pass his knowledge on to his son. A son he didn’t have yet. A son he secretly longed to create with the nubile wench lustily splashing in the pool afore him.

Och!

Bonnie Prince Charley’s own daughter couldn’t have been lovelier than this lass.

The girl rubbed her small hands over her bonteous breasts, gasping as she caressed her ****. Her eyes widened with surprise at the sensual discovery.

Double och!

Douglas crept closer, his kilt little restraint against the burgeoning blade between his thighs at the unexpected show. The lass’s pink tipped breasts were hard and bouncy and spoke of a maid who had not borne kids. His eyes greedily drank in the sight of the water glistening on her rounded body, he longed for for her to stand further from the pool so he could see the secret pelt covering her woman’s treasure and imagine himself parting her secret **** with one smooth thrust. Never had he felt such instant lust for a maid, not even when his Da took him to town for his coming of age so he could become a man with a woman of the night.

She was an angel, with the golden brown hair of a wild deer.

Bonnie left the water, wanting to feel the waterfall trickle down her body in the open air. Something about this glen made her feel wanton, though Nana had told her that only bad girls touched themselves. Yet washing her **** awoke such pleasure deep inside she could barely contain herself. It must be her new connectedness to the land. She leapt gracefully from stone to stone and he got his wish to see her fully revealed to his greedy eyes. Never had he beheld such perfection. Moisture glistened on her slim thighs and she let the fall of the waterfall caress down her body. Again she ran hands over her breasts as if discovering them for the first time because she was. Douglas heard her moan in passion.

He grabbed his **** unable to help himself. He wished ‘twas her hot pink mouth.

The girl sank to her knees and raised her face to the sun. The sunlight was like a lover’s caress on her face while the waterfall ran down her body like his hands. If only she could have a true love! She felt so restless like something was missing. The water beat from above gently yet relentlessly and she shifted her hips restlessly. Was she a faery come to the glen to enchant him thus? Her tiny hands pinched her pink, hard ***** to hardness and he longed to suckle one like a nursing babe. His hand clenched with tightness on his randy ****, he crept forward careful to make no sound to disturb the enchanting sight. ***** oozed from the mushroom like **** and made his **** all slick like her spittle.

The bonny lass shifted her tempting **** cheeks on the hard round pebbles of the waterfall’s base and suddenly her eyes shot open with pure shocked pleasure as the cascade pummeled her hot ****. “Oh!” he heard her cry out ignoring the strange accent of her words. His **** surged to it’s full ten inches. He could nigh restrain it, he took three more steps forward and ripped off his kilt in readiness. Her eyes closed to her own pleasure, her hands felt of her breasts. She didn’t see him coming closer to her across the woodland glen revealed in pure manly glory and ready to take her as she begged for.

He was close enough to see her large ***** and navel and her hips helplessly bucking. He would thrust between them and let the sweet juices slide him home! The maid needed a hard, fast ****** that much was obvious, even if she was a faery, and he was just the human to give it to her, all ten inches of it. Bonnie let her fingers creep down to her **** since no one was around to see and she explored her pulsing ***** that she’d never touched. It begged to be discovered. The sensations turned her to jelly and she put other finger inside.

Douglas nearly spilled his ***** at the sight of her slim fingers probing her wee tight *****. No reason to spill on the fragrant heather when the woman’s lush body beckoned, surely she didn’t want to ***** all alone and she looked very close. He looked at her all over with lustful readiness. There was something about her face that looked familiar, even gaping in passion. She had the features of an angel but also.... Of a....McDonald!

Douglas squinted and looked more closely. Her stubborn chin, the set of her large blue eyes. So familiar and so hated! The gel was a McDonald lass, the spawn of his sworn enemies! His hand stopped pumping his hard, huge **** that his palm could barely span as his mind whirled.

A maid such as this must be quite the prize. Old Laird Rebus McDonald doubtless planned to use her to firmly bind his clan to some other and make them invincible against the struggling Campbells. A plan formed in Douglas’s mind. A plan of revenge that would allow him to wound the old Laird just like the man had wounded Douglas when he had stolen away Douglas’s intended bride, the fair Mary Patrick, so many years ago. Breaking Douglas’s heart, especially when he learned that Mary had carried a bastard child in her womb from illicitly swyvving Brutus McDonald, the Laird’s offspring. She hadn’t saved herself for their marriage bed as she’d always sworn she would do, and she’d broken that vow with a McDonald! Women were not to be trusted, he knew that now. Just as this lass had the look of innocence but her body spoke of knowledge of carnal pleasures.

Mary had betrayed him with Brutus on the sly and then the Laird had kidnapped her, adding insult to injury. He hoped the traitoress enjoyed functioning as the whore for the McDonald Clan, for surely that’s what she was now. Douglas had never loved a woman since--though he’d made love to plenty--but he did need a wife, someone to carry on his family genes.

He would take this bonny McDonald lass and teach the villainous McDonald Clan to trespass on his family lands!

When she heard a bellow of triumph, Bonnie opened her eyes and screamed in sheer panic at the sight of a naked fully aroused Scotsman standing not a few feet from her, embarrassing her secret pleasures! She’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar!

She was a bad, bad girl.

***

© 2005 Jody Wallace