Grey had finally come to her rescue. She was going to let him know just how much his timing stank, just as soon as she came to terms with what had just happened.
Grace was lifted onto the shore. She looked over through the spots still flashing in her eyes to glare at Grey, only to find herself face to face with Michael MacBain.
Now, where had he come from?
And where was Grey?
Grace heard her name bellowed again, this time from the north end of the pond. She squinted and saw Grey making his way along the edge of the now open pond, his stride angry and determined, water dripping off his hair and shoulders—and that damn sword still in his hand.
She looked at Michael. “I—I think you should leave now.”
But he wasn’t paying her any attention. He was staring across the pond. Grace heard him whisper the word drùidh under his breath.
Drùidh? Wasn’t that a wizard or something?
She looked in the same direction as Michael. Daar was now sitting on the rock he’d been standing on earlier, his hands dangling over his knees, his head shaking slowly back and forth as he stared out at the floating slabs of ice littering the pond.
“Wh-where’s Jonathan? And the other men?” she asked in her own strangled voice.
“Gone,” was all Michael said, unable to look away from Daar.
“G-gone where?”
He finally turned his haunted gray eyes on her. “Back to my time, I think,” he murmured faintly, his face draining of color. In unison, they both looked back at the spot where Jonathan, Frank, Tom, and Wayne had been standing.
“Get away from her, MacBain,” Grey said, now standing on a rock next to them, his sword pointed at Michael.
Grace let go of the stick and scrambled up to stand between Grey and Michael. The cold suddenly struck her like a violent slap to the face. She looked down and saw that the stick was humming quietly on the rock, still glowing with shimmering blue light. She reached down, picked it up, and clasped it to her chest. The cold retreated as fast as it had come.
“Move out of the way, Grace,” Grey said, his stare never leaving Michael.
“He saved my life,” she reminded him. “While you were busy attacking a priest, I might add,” she said, if for no other reason than to get his mind off his obsessive anger at Michael.
Grey finally looked at her. “I saw him like that before, four years ago. I thought he was going to…that he was…”
“He was going to what?”
He shook his head, unable to explain his actions any better than she could.
“I want to go home now,” she told him. “I want to see Baby.”
Callum, Ian, and Morgan silently stepped out of the woods and moved to surround Grace and Michael.
She pointed her stick at them threateningly. It wasn’t a sword like the one Grey had, but she was ready to smack them with it if they so much as scowled at Michael.
“Be careful with that thing, girl!” Daar shouted from across the pond, where he stood wringing his hands.
“Don’t be pointing that at anyone!”
She stared at the stick in her hand. “Where—where’s the other half?” she asked in a quivering whisper.
“It disintegrated when it…well, it’s ash now, floating in the pond,” Grey said, also staring at the stick in her hand.
“What in hell happened here?” Callum asked, having no clue of the danger the stick presented. “We saw lightning.”
“It’s a long story,” Grey said, turning his gaze to her. “Will ya set that thing down, lass?” he asked, his voice coaxing and a little distraught.
She hugged it back to her chest. “It keeps me warm.”
“Then at least don’t point it at anyone, like the old man said.” Grey looked at Morgan. “What happened to the men on the snowmobiles?” he asked, his voice now sounding more like the Superman he was supposed to be.
Morgan darted a look at her, then at Grey, and slowly shook his head. “They’ll not be missed,” was all he said, grinning a bit. “Nor will they ever be found.”
Michael, who had been sitting on the rock with his arms wrapped around his knees, finally stood up.
Grey raised his sword. Grace lifted her stick away from her chest, but she didn’t quite dare point it at Grey.
“He didn’t know anything about these men,” she said, lifting her chin.
Michael agreed with her. “That’s right,” Michael said, moving to stand beside her. Grace guessed his pride wouldn’t let him hide behind a woman.
“I heard their machine laboring toward the pass, and I hid at this end of the pond to see what they were doing,” he explained, facing Grey. “I saw them leading Grace onto the ice against her will, and I was waiting to ambush them.”
“Something you’re fond of doing,” Grey said in a low growl. “What are you doing up here?”
Grace saw Michael gaze out at the pond before he turned a narrowed look back on Grey. “There were men in town yesterday asking questions about where Grace’s plane had crashed. I thought they might be from StarShip Spaceline, but something about them made me suspicious. I came up here to see what it was they seemed to be looking for.”
Michael let out a tired sigh and wiped his wet hair back from his face. “I found nothing but the empty plane, but I remembered these men had been asking the store owner if he had maps of the snowmobile trails. So I decided to keep climbing up here to the trail to see what they were doing.”
“Wait a minute,” Grace piped up, staring wide-eyed at Michael. “You know the name of the company I work for?”
“Yes. StarShip Spaceline. Mary told me.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. She turned to face Michael. “You knew where I worked? And lived?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you must have realized when Mary left that she would run to me. Why didn’t you come after her?
Or call?”
Michael looked down at her, his eyes pained. “And say what?” he asked, shaking his head. “Mary needed to come to terms with all of…all of this,” he said, his voice trailing off to a whisper as he looked at the slabs of ice floating in the still churning water of the pond.
Grace hugged the stick back to her chest, wanting to weep. This entire tragedy never should have happened. Mary shouldn’t be dead. She should be here with Michael and Baby, living happily ever after.
She turned to Grey. “Will you take me home now? To Baby?”
Grey stared hard at Michael a bit longer, then slowly looked at her and nodded.
“You can take my snowmobile, MacBain,” Grey said, still looking at her.
Grace turned to Michael and touched his arm before he could leave. “Ellen and John are at TarStone Resort,” she told him. “Stop there first, and let them know you’re okay. They’re worried about you.”
He nodded curtly and turned and walked away, brushing past Ian and Callum and Morgan without saying a word.
Grace sighed and turned to Ian, stepping to the edge of the rock she was standing on so she could touch his arm. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered. “Thank you for coming to save me.”
Ian’s old face turned a dull red, and his gaze shot to her feet. “I didn’t save ya, lass. I nearly got ya killed.”
Grace reached out and enveloped him in a heartfelt hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, the stick in her hand touching his back.
Ian jumped as if she had pinched him, his eyes wide and incredulous as he stumbled away, staring at the stick in her hand. It wasn’t glowing blue anymore, but it still hummed with gentle vibrations. Grace hugged it to her chest again and stepped back to look at Grey.
“I want to go home now,” she repeated.
“Morgan,” Grey said. “You and Callum get that damn priest and take him back to his cabin. Ian, bring the other snowcat around the pond and pick us up.”