Finding My Highlander (17 page)

He looked upon an extraordinary image of Andra standing by an older man. He’d never seen the like before. Kendrick closely examined the image encased in the same clear shiny material as the container from her bag. He looked at her and back at the portrait several times. “‘Tis a verra good likeness, astonishingly real.” He studied the older man closely and felt a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t place why, but the man looked familiar.

“The next one is my mother. My father took that image more than twenty years ago in my time. My mother died when I was seven years old. There is also dated currency. Pull out the paper bills and read them. Printed on the bills you’ll see their issue date. Some of them are newer so they do not all display the same dates, but they are all from the future. There are also English pounds, England’s currency from my time.”

He concentrated on the photos first. “Och, you resemble your mother. You have her face and smile and the same hair color.” None of this could be possible, could it?

“Yes, my father always said I am like her in many ways. Except for that picture, I can barely remember her.” A wistful expression crossed her brow.

“Do you have an image of your son?” He had no idea why he raised that question. His mind screamed that none of this could be true. The urge to run out of the room and lock her away fought with his need to hear everything she had to say, no matter how fantastic.

“Yes, I do.”

She removed another slip of paper, yellowed and worn around the edges and handed it to him. A picture she had obviously held in her hands thousands of times. A tiny babe rested across her chest, her hair was plastered to her face creased with deep weariness and pain. The image of her and this precious baby she had lost overwhelmed his senses.

She assumed that far away stare, her eyes damp with memories. With a hand pressed against her abdomen, she continued. “The scar on my stomach that you asked about…is a surgical scar. There was an accident in my ninth month of pregnancy resulting in an emergency C-section.”

“C-section?” His questioning expression urged her to continue.

“It’s an operation to remove the baby if they won’t come. He lived for a very short time. I only had him for a few hours.” Her voice hitched, suppressing a sob.

He set the wallet down and took her face in his hands, leaning his forehead against hers. “I am so sorry for your loss,
a stór
. I ken how it still pains you deeply.” A loud thrum hummed in his ears as he considered her nightmarish tale. Nevertheless, she clearly struggled with this disclosure and with her loss. He kissed her lips gently.

She sighed and pushed him back. Patiently, she continued to describe and explain the remaining items in her bag. He asked dozens of questions, and she answered them all without hesitation. Finally, she recounted the events that lead to the portal opening and her abrupt entry into his time and onto their path that day. She quieted and waited for his response.

Kendrick blew all the air from his lungs and took a deep, replenishing breath. Leaning forward in his chair, he ran his big hands through his hair, and allowed the silence to envelop them. Was any of this possible? On one hand, he struggled to believe it; on the other, she clearly believed everything she told him, and the evidence presented in her defense deserved his consideration.

“Kendrick?” A silent plea etched Andra’s face. She seemed to hold her breath, fingers touching the cross at her neck. “Please believe me. I promise, every word is the truth, and I will answer any other questions you ask to the best of my ability.” The silence in the room suffocated him.

He stood and paced around the room. Her eyes trailed his agitated movements, but she didn’t press him. She waited for a response, but he could not find words adequate to speak rationally. “I need some time to digest what you have told me, Andra.” He cupped her cheek, then turned and left without another word, bolting the door behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kendrick didn’t know what to do with the incredible images and information swirling in his mind. He had locked her in her room again because he feared she might decide to run away in the night. Exhaustion, incredulity, and fear, emotions he struggled to suppress swamped his thoughts.

He paced the parapet in an effort to gather his composure. With whom could he discuss this information without jeopardizing Andra’s safety? And without them thinking he too had lost his mind. What could he do to help her? Was it even remotely possible she told the truth? If so, could he help her return to her own time if that is what she truly wanted? More importantly, could he let her go? As much as she exasperated him, he had never felt such strong desire for any woman. No matter how hard he tried to deny those emotions, they shook his reserve every time he drew near her, every time he heard her voice.

He looked out over the hills where a pale shimmer of light filtered through the trees. What would he do if he suddenly found himself in another time and all of this, everyone and everything familiar was lost?

“Unimaginable,” he said, shaking his head. Yet, if she told the truth, this feisty woman, who had burrowed under his skin and anchored in his chest, had faced it all with amazing grace and tenacity.

Rabbie walked onto the parapet. “Good morrow, cousin. You look a bit raw and agitated for so early in the day. What has the lass done to upset you now?”

“Aye. I spent most of the night talking with her.”

“Och, talking was it? More explosions, then? Is the lass still locked in her room?” Rabbie needled in a good-natured manner, trying to lighten Kendrick’s mood, but he could find nothing humorous in his recent discoveries.

Kendrick didn’t take the intended bate. “Rabbie, I wish to take you into my confidence on a matter of great importance that must remain between the two of us.”

Rabbie looked at him curiously, “Aye, you ken I am trustworthy and able to mind my tongue. What troubles you?”

“Come to my library, there are too many ears here.”

When Kendrick finished his tale, Rabbie walked to the table and poured them both a dram of whisky. Handing his cousin a cup, he tossed the burning liquid down his throat. “Well now, that tale definitely needs a bit of the
uisge beatha
to swallow it down. What are your thoughts on the matter?”

“The woman drives me to the edge of madness, that she does, but she no doubt believes her story. Then there are the strange things she showed me—currency from her time and pictures that defy the imagination. She defended her claims with calm certainty and precise explanations. She did not equivocate. Bloody hell! Am I as crazy as she is if I say I’m inclined to believe her?”

Rabbie had always helped calm and center Kendrick’s mind. They were opposites in many ways. Rabbie, slow to anger, took an inordinate amount of time to come to a decision, yet unfailingly reached an accurate conclusion. Furthermore, Rabbie was not a superstitious man. Kendrick trusted him, as much or more than he trusted his brother and never needed his steadying influence more.

“To tell the truth, Kendrick, I dinnae believe she has ever outright lied to us. She avoided answering our questions at first, but if what she tells you is possible, you cannae blame her. From the beginning, Struan called her a witch. That must have frightened the poor lass. Look how she charged after him following the incident at the river when he accused her of witchcraft again. Verra brave, dinnae you agree.”

“You dinnae believe all the nonsense about witchery do you, Rabbie?”

Rabbie tilted his head, appraising his cousin and mulling over the question. “If they had the power people claimed, then why are they always among the poor and wretched, or those gifted with the healing arts? If they possessed such powers, why wouldn’t they be able to escape punishment?” He paused, then shook his head, “Nae, it makes no sense.”

They stood in thoughtful silence, looking out the long, mullioned windows facing the back of the keep. In the distance, the ocean appeared as a gray, heaving beast in the silver light. “You ken, Rabbie, for generations stories have persisted about the stone circles and magic surrounding them. People still firmly believe in the fairy folk, though I dinnae. Still, with all my travels and university education I ken more exists in this world than the sages can explain. She presents the most fantastic story I’ve ever heard. Yet, I cannae find another explanation for what I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

“Mayhap you could use some distraction while you consider the lass’s story. A guard from the northern borders rode in less than an hour ago. He spotted Camerons reiving our livestock again. Should we take a few men to ride out and investigate?”

The suggestion offered the perfect excuse to gain space and perspective. “Aye, a day or two away from the keep would be good. Perhaps on the way back we could shoot a few deer to add to the winter stores. The exertion and fresh air will help clear my thoughts. Ready the men. I’ll speak with Andra before I meet you at the stables.”

When Kendrick returned to Andra’s room, her disheveled state flattened him. The sight of her lying on the bed crying into her pillow, pounding her wee fists against the bed, smashed any remaining reluctance he felt about accepting her story as truth, however unbelievable.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he rubbed his hand across her back. “Dinnae fash yourself so, lass, you’ll become ill if you go on like this.” She didn’t respond at first, then rolled over and looked at him with puffy, red eyes, and a drippy nose. He scooped her into his arms. A powerful urge to protect and possess her swept through him. As much as he needed his next breath, he needed this woman. He would never let her go.

“Och, you’ll be the death of me, you ken. I needed time to digest the information you showed me.” She curled into his embrace like a wee bairn.

“Please tell me you believe me. I swear on my families’ souls, I am telling the truth. Don’t leave me locked up and alone,” she whispered.

He took her chin between his thumb and finger and lifted her face. “What you’ve told me is beyond anything I could imagine, and I want us to take our time and talk about it further.” He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms tightly around her. “But first, I must leave for a while. I will not lock you in your room. Try to mind yourself and dinnae cause any trouble until I return. Just for a few days, please refrain from your morning exercises.”

His lips lightly brushed hers and he laid her back on the bed. “You’re exhausted, rest a while, Andra. Keep what you’ve told me to yourself until I return. We’ll sort this out, I give you my word.” He wanted to stretch out beside her and eliminate these thoughts from both of their minds with a frantic, bracing coupling, a heated passion that would relieve her fears and calm them both, but it must wait until later.

She clung to his fingers, looking up at him, then slowly rolled to her side. “You’re right. I’m exhausted.”

* * *

When the noon hour arrived without Andra coming to the great hall, Beatrice went to her room to investigate. No one responded to her knock so she gingerly opened the door. Andra rolled over and rubbed her face. Sleep had not caused the red blotches that spotted her cheeks and rimmed her swollen eyes.

“Och, are you not well, dear? Should I call Jane to tend you?” her voice rippled over Andra like a cool wind.

“No, I will be fine.” She looked out the window at a sun high in the sky. “My apologies for sleeping so long into the day.”

Already aware of the previous morning’s events in the bailey, Beatrice suspected Andra and Kendrick had not yet resolved their conflict, or at least not to the lass’ satisfaction. Anyone could see the desire that flamed between her son and this woman. As their mother, Beatrice knew her sons well and though generally kind and thoughtful in dealings with members of his clan, Kendrick’s temper could be quick and fierce if challenged.

She admired the woman. Andra appeared to be of solid character, fortitude, and intelligence. Her son’s strength would not subjugate this woman’s character into oblivion. Kendrick needed a partner capable of standing beside him as he provided for and protected their clan, and Andra could be that woman. Beatrice did not fret over the young woman’s lack of family or dowry.

As a mother, she might not directly interfere with her son’s lives, but a gentle shove here or there would not be amiss. Beatrice sat beside her and smoothed the hair from her forehead. “Tell me what troubles you? Has Kendrick upset you?”

“Yes. No. Yes, but I probably upset him far more. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be discussing the laird.” A sheepish expression flitted over her face and revealed her discomfort speaking about Kendrick with his mother. There was very little Beatrice missed or failed to hear about, but she’d keep her counsel for now.

“Let us get you up and dressed for the day. A little food in your stomach would do you good. A walk in the gardens always helps me sort my thoughts and ‘tis a lovely day to be out of the keep.”

The children bounded into the room, followed by Isabel. “Andra,” Kyle cried, jumping on the bed. “Why are ye still abed? Dae ye feel poorly?”

“No, I’m fine. I think I’ve turned into a bed bug and don’t want to leave my covers,”

He made a face and a retching sound.

“You better watch out or the bed bug will get you.” She tickled him and his laughter peeled into the air. Beatrice noticed Andra’s mood lighten when the boy’s little hand sought hers, as he always did when in her presence.