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How had she come to be here? And where were her sisters?

Too weak to stand, Hannah put her head in her hands, trying to piece it together. They’d left the inn late for their hike to Leannan Falls, the driver profusely apologetic for having been caught in traffic. She had been uncharacteristically quiet, staring out at the rolling hillside and thinking about the end of their trip, and had only piped up when Caroline first broached the subject of cliff jumping.

Allie, her more practical, saner middle sister, had immediately objected. There was no way either of them would jump off a cliff. Hannah was afraid of heights, and she’d only agreed to hike the falls, not to jump from them. And yet somehow, less than two hours later, she had joined hands with the only two family members she had left in the world and jumped.

Where in God’s name were they?

“Hold!”

She spun around, her eyes widening.

“Stay there,” a man yelled from his horse. The vehemence in his voice startled her. It was as if she’d done something wrong. He had three companions, all on horseback too, all lined up behind her as if they’d been there awhile.

Hannah made another attempt to stand, and the man in charge, or at least she assumed he was in charge, rode toward her.

“Hold!” he yelled again, dismounting.

She blinked in confusion. All four men were dressed up in medieval garb. The one in the lead was older, probably over fifty, but his companions all looked younger.

The most likely explanation was that they were reenactors, employees from the massive castle perched along the edge of the nearby cliff. After nearly two weeks in Scotland, she’d seen more castles than she had during a lifetime in the States.

The States.

She was already beginning to think like a European. The thought might have amused her if not for the men gathered in front of her. They looked absolutely appalled.

Hannah’s hands began to tremble as she struggled to make sense of it all. As her head cleared, panic began to set in.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“Do not move,” he repeated.

She’d heard some thick accents in the past few weeks, but his was positively dripping. Hannah could barely understand his English.

“My lord will speak to you—”

“My lord?” she interrupted. “You mean the owner?”

Dumb Hannah. The owner was also likely a lord. Was this one of those castles that people still lived in when it wasn’t being traipsed on by tourists like her? But why would the owner want to speak to her? Was he pissed that she was trespassing?

Hannah didn’t get scared very often. She was the strong one, a role that was more important now than ever. But there were exceptions, of course, like when she was in a tall building looking down. Or, God forbid, on a Ferris wheel or something of the sort.

Jumping off a waterfall and waking on an unfamiliar shore certainly qualified for that list. Hannah’s hands couldn’t stop shaking and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Who are you?” the man demanded.

He looked like an older version of that tour guide from Inverglen. Bearded and shaggy, what you’d imagine a Highlander to look like. Though, to be fair, most of the Highlanders they’d met didn’t look much different from most men. Well, other than the ones who wore kilts . . .

Focus, Hannah. Something is not right here.

“Who are you?” she demanded back.

Her question seemed to startle them as much as her appearance obviously had. It was a simple question really. And why were they looking at her as if she were wearing a clown suit? Hannah followed their stares to her shorts and hoodie. You’d think she wouldn’t need it, this being July and all, but one thing she’d learned quickly about Scotland was that summer didn’t always mean warm. Especially now that she was completely drenched.

Hannah took off the only relic she had of her alma mater, with the exception of her college loans, which would never let her forget that she’d chosen a Yale degree, and began to wring out the gray sweatshirt. Until she caught their expressions.

“OK, what is going on?” she demanded. Hannah was beginning to feel a bit more like herself despite the fact that she was still completely lost with no recollection of anything after jumping into the falls. “You’ve been less than helpful. I have no idea how—”

The men turned at the sound of a few approaching riders. Literally, riders on horseback, dressed similarly to the others. They sped toward them like bats out of hell. The one in the center was huge. As the others stopped, he just kept riding. Closer and closer . . .

Was this maniac going to stop?

He finally did, jumping from the biggest horse Hannah had ever seen in her life. He stalked toward her as if he meant to kill her. When he got close enough that Hannah could see his features, she swallowed.

Holy hell. If this guy was a reenactor, then she was joining their troupe tomorrow.