Gotta risk it to live it.
I turned, tightening the ribbon laced across my ribcage and fastening the loose ends in a bow behind my back. Iain’s faraway look as he stared at the floor told me his mind had already left. He was a good man, dedicated to those that relied on him, regardless of the personal cost.
When I slid my feet into the leather slippers, he stood and took my hand, leading me downstairs to the map room. The wall shimmered and beamed as if anticipating us.
Iain released my hand and walked over to it, placing his hand in the upper left-hand corner as he’d done before. “This spot is where the control happens. Place only one hand flat here. No matter where we are, it takes us to the opposite place. Since we’re between worlds, my contact now brings us back.”
“Sounds simple enough, I guess. How will I know when to hide us again?” I asked.
“You’ll know. We’ve scouts to report back if we’re threatened.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “And if you’re not here, Brigid knows what to do.”
I nodded, watching the lights fade until they became only pinpoints on the wall. The design suddenly struck me as resembling constellations in our galaxy rather than locations on an earthly map. The fluidity of the sparkling gray backdrop stilled as it adopted a solid state. Energy that had been sparking in the room when we arrived had dimmed to a low hum.
“You mean, when I go back.” I said.
He removed his hand from the wall and turned to face me, taking my hands into his, keeping a small distance between us. “Aye. We agreed a week here and a week there. But I doona know how that can continue. Your people here need you. I need you.”
I nodded, tears springing into my eyes. My two worlds were at odds with each other, and the strain had begun to unravel me inside. I didn’t know how much longer I could continue living two lives when each one needed all of me.
A strong man stood before me, opening his heart to me. Offering me everything he had: his world, his heart. I smiled at him, refusing to let tears fall.
“I’m here for you, Iain. Go and fight for us. Come back to me safe, and we’ll talk about our future. You’re right, I’m needed by many. I’ll make sure they’re cared for and protected.”
He dropped his head, grabbed my hips, and crushed my body into his while kissing the breath out of me. I melted into him. My man and his clan weren’t the only ones with needs. I thrived off Iain’s love. The joy and accomplishments of his people great and small were my successes too. Those were the things that gave me purpose every day.
I followed him out to the courtyard. In one fluid motion he mounted Dubhar. The horse pawed restlessly at the earth, dressed in the clan colors on his bridle. The animal had been outfitted with a thin saddle and a rolled blanket, food and supplies tied to the back.
A group of people gathered, likely attracted by the real-world blue skies sparkling overhead. I jumped when a light hold grasped my waist. Brigid’s smiling gray eyes greeted me.
“Hello, sister,” she said.
I laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist too. “Hello, sister.”
Iain gave me a last look, and I drank in the spectacular sight of my warrior: long chestnut hair rippling in a slight breeze, a fresh braid dangling from each temple, his angled jaw shadowed by darker stubble. A hard edge defined his expression as his fierce hazel eyes pierced a silent message into my soul. He did this for me . . . for us.
I belonged to him.
And he . . . belonged to us all.
CHAPTER Thirty
New purpose filled my heart and pumped through my veins as I watched the drawbridge lift into place, locking us within the protection of the curtain walls while we remained in the real world, ticking away on history’s clock. Iain galloped off, dense forest beyond the meadow swallowing man and horse whole.
In silence, I renewed my vow to the role he’d given me—caretaker of his clan. Brigid and I wandered back to the village, and the small crowd that gathered to bid Iain a safe journey walked with us. I surveyed our people and the surrounding landscape with fresh eyes.
I clasped one of Brigid’s hands with both of mine. “I want to spend the morning focusing on everyone’s needs.”
My voice carried loud enough for everyone to hear. The group exploded with excitement, several people addressing me at once. I grinned, eager to help them in every way, determined to understand and become an integral part of a world that had chosen me.
“I’ll need pine board to build more beehives,” said Agnes. “Mairi’s been helpin’ me with the harvestin’ and candle makin’.”
Jamie, one of Iain’s guard left behind for protection, spoke up. “M’Lady, three of the cottages need roof rethatchin’ before winter.”
A tug at my skirt drew my attention downward. Round eyes of emerald green looked up at me. A stem, covered in dozens of creamy-white flowers with pink striations, was thrust between us, clutched in his little hand. The orchid blooms resembled ascending angels, their broad, scalloped skirts and high-arching wings fluttering in the breeze.
“Why, thank you,” I said, taking the flowers from the lad. Between my fingers, I twirled the conical bouquet-on-a-stem, delighted with the secretly symbolic gift.
As we passed by the garden, I glanced at the stream flowing inside the curtain wall, feeding into the millpond. I realized not everything existed independent of the outside world. The water had flowed when I was on the other plane. Had creatures swam through both realms with the water current? The mechanics of what could and could not breach the time barrier perplexed me.
People broke off a few at a time, going to their homes or finishing their day’s tasks. Agnes, the beekeeper, joined Mairi, donning a similar linen-shrouded hat and gloves. Mairi held a smoldering stick up and blew smoke into one end of the four-foot-tall, two-foot-square wooden hive, forcing the bees out. Agnes pulled out pieces of honeycomb and carefully placed them into a lined basket at their feet.
Brigid squeezed my arm when only the two of us remained. She whispered, “I’m off to find Donalda. I need to order a few new gowns. Agnes is pregnant with her first bairn.” Before I had a chance to reply, she skipped off toward the seamstress’s cottage.
I laughed at Brigid’s boundless energy and walked into the smithy, marveling at all the gleaming weaponry hung on the wall. Hamish slid a red-hot blade from the forge with huge forceps. Then he laid it upon an iron anvil and hit the fiery surface with the hammer in his other hand, causing sparks to fly.
“Hamish!” I shouted above the ear-piercing clash of metal.
He glanced up, grunting.
“I need four iron candleholders about so high.” I held my hand about shoulder height, and he nodded in reply. “Where would I find someone to supply wood?”
“Uilleam’s the woodcutter. He stocks the kitchen every few days in the late morning,” he said.
“Thank you,” I shouted over my shoulder as I dashed off.
I rushed up the hill, hoping to catch Uilleam if he hadn’t yet stocked for the week. When I arrived in the kitchen, midday meal preparations were in full swing. Rowena, a generously curved woman with ruddy cheeks, oversaw the kitchen staff of a half dozen while they cut meat, added herbs to stews, and pulled out small bread loaves from a stack.
I stood there long enough to get Rowena’s attention. She began to cross the room. Rich scents of a brewing stew wafted into my nose, and my gut clenched. I rushed out of the kitchen and into the hall, my hand flying to my mouth.
My entire skin dampened as I struggled with a wave of nausea. I took several slow, deep breaths until the intensity of the attack subsided. I laughed dryly, musing that Agnes might not be the only one pregnant. During that fleeting thought, the smile fell from my face, complicated reality sobering my mood. How stupid of me not to think about what unprotected sex with two men would produce.