Winning Her Highland Warrior, page 19
“But Kane—”
“Stop!” He faced her as he yanked on his trews. “Dinna ask for my blessing on this because ye will never have it. Ye have made yer feelings known, and now ye fully understand mine.” He threw on his shirt and shoved his feet into his boots. “I willna take ye back there. The Bruce needs me here.”
“I will come back,” she said, the pitch of her voice filled with sorrow and pleading. She stood with her hands clasped in a knot. “Please try to understand. I promise I’ll come back. I’ll only be gone a month.”
“In this time, Mistress St. Clair, wives stay at their husbands’ sides. They dinna leave them for months at a time because they understand that life is precious and short, and they might never see them again. I bid ye Godspeed in yer travels.” He stormed out the door and slammed it behind him, gritting his teeth when the creak of the hinges warned she had yanked it back open.
“So, it’s fine for ye to leave me when ye go to battle, but I canna leave ye for a short time to save lives?” She threw the door open wider, bouncing it back against the wall. “Ye’re a feckin’ hypocrite, ye are! Ye know that, right? A feckin’ hypocrite!”
A frustrated roar escaped him as he charged back, grabbed hold of her, and poured all his fury into the last kiss they would ever share. Chest heaving as he broke free, he shoved her away. “Aye, I am a feckin’ hypocrite all right. One who loved ye more than anyone else ever will. Remember that when ye’re back in yer time laughing about how ye tricked an ancient man into caring for ye with the entirety of his heart and soul.” Then he turned and left, cursing the day he had been born.
*
No matter how much they acted as though they accepted it, Satia knew neither Anne nor Rob believed her pathetic lie about needing a spiritual pilgrimage to An Lochan Uaine with Friar Law. Neither had the Bruce until the friar had hinted that perhaps she might receive more prophetic dreams if allowed to make the journey. That tipped the needle in their favor. They were packed up and sent off with the Bruce’s blessings within a day’s time.
But Kane hadn’t seen them off. In fact, she had not seen him since their fight. Her heart ached with a hurting she had never known before, but she strengthened herself, knowing that once she returned, she would win him back. He would realize she hadn’t abandoned him. At least, she hoped it worked out that way. They would patch things up and be happy once again. She hoped. And even tried to pray. Rob’s stories about Kane’s ability to hold a grudge to his grave concerned her.
“The moon looked pretty full last night,” she said as she and the professor strolled around the shores of the Green Loch. She pointed at a shadowy point off the bank. “That’s where I went in the first and second times. Deep as possible.”
“I canna imagine trying to drown yerself, but I guess that’s all the data ye had to work with.” Friar Law shielded his eyes and squinted up at the sky. “By my calculations, tonight the moon hits its fullest point at just after midnight. After that, we must touch the water at all times to ensure we dinna miss the gateway.”
“I wonder what Rob and Anne will think when we disappear?” She spotted Anne stirring the fire on the other shore while Rob hunted for their supper.
“Since our mounts will still be here, they’ll either think us drowned or carted off by ne’er do wells.” With his hands clasped to the small of his back, he peered at her with a look that made her shiver. “Ye are certain ye wish to do this? Ye seemed quite happy with yer husband before the subject of returning to yer time came about.”
He didn’t have to remind her of how contented and happy she had been. She remembered full well and hoped with everything in her she hadn’t ruined it forever. “I feel it my duty to pass along my findings.”
“Because ye wish to clear yer name and make yer mark in the scientific community?”
“No. I dinna care if I get any credit for the discovery at all.”
“That doesna sound like ye.”
“I know. But a lot has changed. Including my priorities.” She picked up a rock and skimmed it across the surface. “All that matters is that people are helped, especially Breanna.”
“A month is a short time to get one’s research made known for a cancer study.” Friar Law tried his hand at rock skipping but failed. The stone hit the water with a dismal kerplop. “There will be announcements and press, more testing required, papers to be written.”
“I’ll do what I can, then give Breanna everything else.” She had it all planned out. Breanna was a gifted researcher, too. She would accept the torch and take it across the finish line. “I promised Kane I’d only be gone a month. I canna stay any longer than that.”
“Ye should not have promised him a month. I told ye it might be longer. Are ye certain he will accept ye back when ye do return?”
“No.” She wouldn’t lie to the professor or herself. “I’ll not know that until I’m back.”
“And if he doesna?”
“I’ll worry about that when it happens.” It would not happen. It couldn’t. She could not lose Kane forever. But then, why was she doing this? Why would she risk the greatest love of her life? A heavy sigh escaped her but didn’t help with the burden of indecision. She did this because she had to. Something inside wouldn’t leave her alone until she completed this task. Time to change the subject before she crumbled into a pile of uncontrollable tears. “What will ye do while we’re back home?”
“Visit the library. Lurk about and see what I can. Perhaps I shall visit with Breanna, too. After all, the two of ye made quite the pair in all my classes ye took together.” He skipped another rock, improving enough to make it skim almost across the width of the loch. “This will probably be my last trip back to the future. Each time I go, I am reminded how much I dinna belong there anymore.” He shook his head. “The world of the future is a frightening place. I fear it willna last much longer.”
“This time is much simpler,” she admitted. “But it has its dangers, too. I guess every time does.”
“Aye. I suppose that’s true.” With an indulgent smile, he turned them back to camp. “Come. Perhaps Anne needs help with the preparations, and if not, we should nap. Tonight will be a long one.”
Satia agreed with a nod but looked out across the land in the direction they’d just come. “Please keep him safe,” she whispered, knowing that before she returned, the battle of Bannockburn would take place. She hoped he’d be careful but knew in her heart he wouldn’t. She would try prayer again for his safety, then find out if the prayers worked when she returned.
*
An expectant shiver stole across her as she stared at the bright blue-white orb glowing overhead. “It’s definitely full, so our window should be approaching.” She hugged the bag containing her twenty-first century clothes and stepped into the shallows. “Are ye sure we shouldna wait until right after dawn? That’s when I came through the first time.”
“That was March, and this is June. Ye know as well as I that everything shifts with the time of year.” Friar Law held a bag of his own.
She assumed it held appropriate clothing as hers did. “How do ye keep from being recognized? All yer students loved ye.”
“Ye are most kind,” he replied with a humble nod. “Whenever I return, I dress as one of the homeless. They are invisible to most people because folk fear if they look too closely, they will see their own future.”
Sad but true. How many times had she looked away when coming across a homeless person on the streets? “Do ye feel woozy or see lights behind yer eyelids?” She needed to know what to expect.
“I believe that was a side effect of yer near drowning.” He looked up at the moon, studying it as if seeing it for the first time. “There’s a bit of disorientation, then ye regain yer footing as though ye slipped across an icy patch of pavement.” He shrugged. “Leastwise, that’s the best way I know to describe it.”
“But it’ll be the same time of day there as it is here, right? The timelines run parallel?” She tried to remember her first trip, but the unconsciousness from almost drowning fouled her data.
“Aye. Completely parallel from what I have observed.”
She glanced across the way at the campfire and the blanketed lump that was Anne dreaming her dreams. “I hope they dinna get too upset.” Anne had been such a loyal friend and taught her so much. She hated causing the lass any trouble. And even though Anne knew things weren’t right between her and Kane, she hadn’t nagged or pried. Just supported her with an occasional stern glance or two that let Satia know right off that she didn’t agree with her making the trip to An Lochan Uaine. But again, Anne hadn’t commented, just gone along. Fidgeting in place, she turned to Friar Law. “Do ye think they’ll be upset?”
He gave her a perturbed look. “How many times are ye going to ask me that? And does it really matter? Ye didna mind upsetting yer husband to follow yer duty, as ye called it. Why do ye fret so over yer friends? Will ye not do it if ye fear it will cause them discomfort?”
“Ye never were one to coddle, were ye?”
“Not in the slightest.” He rolled up on the balls of his feet and set himself back down on his heels with a soft splash. “But ye’ve always known that about me. And since when are ye such a sensitive soul? Ye know the professors and I often referred to ye as the Iron Maiden?”
“I thought it was Ice Queen?” She had taken pride in the nicknames. Then. Now, things had changed. Kane had awakened her heart, shattered the wall around it, and at this precise moment, she didn’t know whether to kiss him or kick him for it. To feel was not always a good thing. “Or the Dragon. I really liked that one.”
“There was a vote, and we settled on Iron Maiden,” he said. “After all, we needed pet names for some of the other students, too.”
She resettled her bundle and surrendered to a jaw-cracking yawn before widening her stance to ensure she didn’t nod off and topple over. “I wonder what Kane’s doing?” she whispered to herself, willing the moon to see her love for the man and carry it to him. She swallowed hard at the knot of emotions making her throat ache. This place held too many memories. She turned to the friar. “Can we not sit with our feet in the water?”
“I dinna ken.” He shrugged. “I’ve never tried it that way.” He nodded to the right and waved her forward. “Walk in the shallows. That’s what I did last time to stay awake.”
With as little sloshing as possible, Satia made her way around the loch in the ankle-deep water. The professor was right; concentrating on not slipping on the rocks helped keep her awake. By the third lap, she noticed a pinkish-white light spreading across the horizon to the east. Anticipation made her stomach gurgle and clench with the realization that dawn would soon be upon them and probably the opening of the gateway.
“Let’s stand here for a bit,” Friar Law advised, obviously sensing the moment almost at hand.
She kept her gaze locked on Anne, barely making out the gentle rise and fall of the blanket covering her. Dear Anne. She was leaving her without saying goodbye. At least Rob would keep his sister safe and get her back to the MacBride homestead.
Her vision blurred as if her eyes had gone all goopy with allergies or sleepiness. She blinked to clear them and rubbed the gritty inner corners. As she did so, her balance faltered, making her stumble to the side. She caught herself and adjusted her stance on the slippery rocks. “Mercy! Sunrise is messing with my balance.”
Friar Law didn’t answer. She turned to see why, and her heart shot to her throat. No one stood beside her. Friar Law was gone. “Bollocks! He went without me?” She turned all around, searching the landscape. Then she realized Friar Law was not the one gone. She was. Anne, Rob, their horses, and the camp had disappeared.
The viewing platform, the carved bench, the stone bordered path coming down from the road. All the things from the future had returned. She was back. Or at least, she was at some point in the future.
She sloshed out of the water, took shelter behind a cluster of pine saplings, and changed her clothes, taking care to repack her fourteenth-century attire for use on her return trip. If she had landed back in her time, the Glenmore Visitor Center wasn’t that far. The café inside should have a phone she could use, or surely, someone would loan her a cell once she told them hers was lost.
As she walked along the road toward the center, the only risk she could think of was that they’d think her homeless or a tad on the barmy side and shoo her out before she could contact Breanna. She needed a cover story. A mugging or something. Aye, that would do. She rubbed dirt on her face and bit her bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed and swell, hoping not only to validate the mugging tale but also elicit some sympathy and help. A limp might help, too. She adopted one immediately. The only thing she couldn’t manage was fake tears. Tears on cue had been Breanna’s strong suit.
“You there! Are you all right?”
Brilliant. Not even into the visitor center’s car park, and some kind soul had already noticed her. With the most distraught face she could manage, she turned and almost fell out of character. A parks constable. They possessed the full authority of the police. “Thank heavens for ye, constable. They got my money. Identification. Phone. I barely escaped with my life.”
“There now, miss. You’re safe now. How badly are you injured?” The middle-aged Brit’s kindly gaze swept across her appearance as he gently herded her toward a nearby bench. “Shall we make a trip to hospital?” He unclipped his radio mic from his shoulder and rested his thumb on the button.
She shook her head, then covered her face with both hands, wishing she could eke out some tears. “I just want to go home, but they took my car, too.” A high-pitched whining keen added authenticity. Or at least, she hoped so. “My friend. I need to call my friend. She’ll come and get me.”
“We should go to the station and file a proper report,” he said, shuffling in place as she increased the volume of her caterwauling. “There, there now. You’re quite safe now, I assure you.”
“I just want to call my friend,” she howled, hoping that rubbing her eyes had made them look red enough. “She’ll take me home. I won’t feel safe until I’m home. P-please. Just let me call my friend.”
“But I must file a report, miss. We can’t allow those hooligans to go unpunished.”
She unleashed another high-pitched sob. The kind-hearted man was on the edge of doing what she wanted just to get her quiet. She could see it in his eyes. Especially since a few early arrivals to the car park had started gathering around and staring.
“She can bloody well use my phone,” said a grandmotherly woman who looked ready to wage battle with the constable. “Can ye no’ see how upset the wee thing is? Shame on ye, man! Have ye no heart at all?”
The elderly woman settled down beside her on the bench and wrapped an arm around her. “Here now, lass. Call yer friend.” She pressed the cell phone into Satia’s hand with an encouraging nod. Then she rose and shooed the onlookers away, including the constable. “On wi’ ye now. Give the lass some privacy to make her call. Who knows what the poor wee kitten’s been through.” The plump matron herded everyone several paces away, then glanced back and gave Satia a nod. “Go ahead, love. Make yer call. I willna let them bother ye.”
A distinct sense of remorse for tricking the sweet lady filled Satia as she tapped in Breanna’s number. But it couldn’t be helped. She only had a month or so to accomplish quite a bit. On the third ring, the voice that Satia feared she would never hear again answered. “Hello?”
“Breanna?”
“Who is this?” Sharp, cold, and filled with suspicion. It didn’t sound like Breanna at all. Well, it did. But Breanna only sounded that way when on the defensive.
“It’s Satia.” She spoke low, hoping her friend would believe her.
“Whoever ye are, this is pretty feckin’ low.” Then she hung up.
“Shite.” She hadn’t considered that Breanna might not accept that it was really her. She tapped out the number again, praying her friend would pick up rather than decline the call.
“I dinna ken what cruel game ye’re up to, but—”
“Breanna, I swear it’s me, and I can prove it. Remember how we used to steal cigarettes out of Sister Mary Evangeline’s stash that was hidden in the bottom of the baptismal, and she couldna rat us out because she’d be ratted out, too?”
Silence on the other end, but at least she hadn’t disconnected the call.
“And remember the song I used to sing to piss off Sister Martha Elizabeth when she came every night to beat any kid whose skin was darker than hers?” Satia hoped Breanna was still listening. “And I’d sing until she beat me? And I’d keep her beating me until her asthma kicked in, so she couldna breathe enough to beat anyone else?”
“I remember,” Breanna whispered, her tone hard and filled with bitterness. “Ye were the death of that wicked cow, ye ken? Pushed her right into that heart attack that night.”
“And who blinded a priest because ye’re the only sister I’ve ever had, and I’d do anything to protect ye?”
“Where are ye, Satia. Where the hell have ye been?”
“Glenmore Visitor’s Center. If ye’ll come and get me, I’ll try my best to explain everything.”
Chapter Fourteen
“He has returned. Without her.” Albie stood with his hand on the latch, and his head stuck partway in, waiting for orders. All the men, even the Bruce, had steered clear of Kane since Satia left. Especially after he had given into his rage and destroyed every stick of furniture, ripped every pillow, and torn all the blankets in his room. But the furious destruction failed him. The delicate scent of her still lingered, filling the space and driving him beyond madness.
