My Highland Lover (25 page)

“What ye say makes no sense,” Gray argued with a sideways glance. “Ye change a time as soon as ye shift into existence in another era. If ye truly feared to make things worse, the lot of ye would ne’er travel the web at all.” Gray turned to her, jaw set, his eyes dark and unreadable. “How could it possibly make things worse to save m’parents from suffering such a cruel end?”

Trulie gazed across the quiet garden greening beneath the warm sun. She had no good answer for Gray. A time runner—a good one with a conscience—knew in her heart what was okay to mess with and what wasn’t. His parents’ death had to be left intact. Trulie felt it. The knowing wasn’t something she could easily explain. The understanding had been planted in her heart at a young age and nurtured into being so.

Trulie reached out for Gray’s hand. Her heart sank when Gray stood and pulled away. “Granny instilled a great respect for time and its ways within us. She taught us everything happens for a reason. We have to avoid the temptation to
force
our own will into the web. We all know the damage we can cause. We’ve learned from Tia’s mistakes, so we treat our gifts with the proper respect. We’re careful when we leap.” Trulie tucked both hands back in her lap. She stared down at her laced fingers and continued. “We don’t run across the threads of time all willy-nilly, without reason. Each jump is thought through and studied before it’s done…at least by one of us.” Trulie frowned as she trailed her hand across the top of the shimmering water. Surely Granny had thought through this very trip before finally getting Trulie to jump. “The reason we jumped this time was because Granny first insisted it was time for her last leap.” Trulie didn’t mention the part about Granny hinting that Trulie was destined to choose a husband from the past.

“Last leap?” Gray glanced back at her. His sullen look darkened even further into a tensed mask of frustrated confusion.

Trulie hated this. The more she told him, the worse things got. It never failed. Anytime they allowed anyone into their complicated world, the individual just couldn’t grasp why a time runner would not do their level best to manipulate things for the betterment of all concerned. More often than not, explaining their beliefs to an outsider was a deal breaker. An uneasy shiver ran through her, twisted at her heart. She didn’t want this deal broken.

“The last leap is…” Trulie went silent, struggling to find the right words. This was just going to confuse him more. She stared off into space, waving one hand as she spoke. “As a time runner ages, her ability to control a leap decreases. When she decides she’s exhausted this lifeline…” Trulie paused again. The words just wouldn’t come.
Crap on crackers.
She wished she could just touch his hand and Gray would somehow instantly know everything she was struggling to explain.

How could she tell him that when a time runner took the last leap, it wasn’t as though she actually died? It was more like her soul broke free of this physical plane and ascended to a higher level—a better level, according to the tales passed down through the generations.

Trulie dropped her hand back to her lap and shrugged. “I guess you could say she leaves this life behind and jumps to the next adventure. She gets a new life—a new start.”

Gray shook his head and turned away. He didn’t look back as he spoke. “I have heard all the strange vagaries I can stomach for one day.” He lowered his gaze to the ground and barely turned his head in her direction. “Ye say ye canna save me mother and father from their terrible end, but ye see no harm in disturbing time to give yer grandmother a new life. Yer reasoning makes no sense.” His fists clenched at his sides, Gray strode across the garden away from Trulie.

Sadness and regret filled Trulie. She didn’t blame Gray for his resentment. He loved his parents and, knowing how they died, how could he not resent her for refusing to save them from that pain? It wasn’t fair and Trulie knew it. But nobody ever said life was fair, and the gifts of her bloodline created a perplexing outlook on dos and don’ts.

Trulie looked back down at her hands and traced a thumb along the lines of her palm. “I guess it’s a good thing we got this out
before
the wedding,” she observed to a nearby finch. The tiny bird cocked its head, beady black eyes studying Trulie as if it completely understood what she said. Its tiny breast swelled with a polite chirp and then it flew away. A sad smile tugged at Trulie’s mouth. Maybe the little bird wondered the same thing she did. Would there even be a wedding now that Gray fully understood what she was capable of doing and the complicated rules she followed?

Trulie dipped her fingers in the cool water of the reflecting pool, frowning down at her troubled reflection. If Gray didn’t come around on his own, she’d be forced to take drastic measures. She’d turn him over to Granny.

Infectious merriment bubbled through the trees. Trulie stopped walking and listened more closely. The soft rustling of green leaves shuffling in the breeze swirled around her. The light, gurgling sound of water trickled somewhere in the distance. “Come on, Granny. Laugh again so I can find you.” Where was she? Trulie had been searching for what seemed like hours.

Splashing water followed by a high-pitched squeal pierced the stillness of the woods. Trulie shook her head and turned to the right. Granny sounded like a schoolgirl on spring break. Last leap, indeed. Who was Granny kidding? The way she had been acting since they returned to the past—a good ten years younger—Granny wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Trulie gathered up her skirts and plodded through the trees. Her feet sank into the loamy softness of the forest floor. A thicket of brambles snatched at her sleeves as she shoved between a boulder and the silvery-gray trunks of sprouting young saplings. The higher she stomped up the wooded hillside, the madder she got. Granny should be at the keep. Sitting by the hearth. Sewing. Or sorting herbs. Or one of those other nice, calm sedate tasks that a woman Granny’s age was supposed to do.

Trulie huffed an irritating strand of hair off her nose. Another excited shriek pealed out a bit closer. “Good.” Trulie slapped at a midge buzzing around her face. She hoped Granny had enjoyed enough playtime today, because they had to talk. Things were still uncomfortably tense with Gray. He just couldn’t seem to get past the fact that she refused to change his parents’ fate.

Trulie lifted her skirts up to her knees and moved faster. Granny would know what to do about Gray. Trulie smiled to herself. Maybe Granny would grab him by the ear and twist it until he understood.

Water sloshed just beyond a fallen tree overtaken with sprouting vines. Trulie stopped and looked around. She recognized the outcroppings of limestone shooting up through the dark mulch of the forest floor. The pond where she had nearly drowned was just up ahead. Thank goodness she’d chosen to follow the lower path that was free of the deadly, shifting shale.

Trulie wadded her skirts into a manageable bundle and draped them over one arm.
Crime-a-nitly, I miss my blue jeans.
Tromping through the woods with yards of cloth swaddled around her was more work than tromping through a tangled field of dried cornstalks on the way to the barn. Trulie paused. Memories of the peace and quiet of the Kentucky woods filtered through her mind.
Wonder if the girls are okay?
She hadn’t connected with them through the fire portal in over a month. There just hadn’t been a good time.

A grim pang of homesickness mixed with the feeling of things lost and never to be seen again settled across her. Time traveling played hell with a girl’s emotions. Trulie shook free of the melancholy and yanked her skirts into a tighter wad. With her free hand, she pushed around the pile of brush.

“Come t’me, ye wee minx.” More splashing accompanied by a deep rumbling chuckle sounded. “Come within reach and I’ll show ye what happens when ye tease me with yer charms.”

Trulie froze. That did not sound like Granny.

“Oh no ye don’t, my fine man.” Teasing giggles highlighted more splashing. “If ye want me, ye have to come and get me.”

Trulie wrinkled her nose and backed up a step.
Eww.
That was Granny. And Tamhas. She better hurry and let them know she was here before things got any more heated and
ick.
“Granny!” she called out quickly. “Granny, I am right over here behind these bushes and I really need to talk to you.”

A mumbled expletive accompanied the sound of bodies thrashing in water. “Trulie. I am…busy. Go away. We will talk later.”

Bullshit.
Trulie inched a step forward, taking care to keep her gaze glued to the ground just in front of her toes. She really did not want to see her own grandmother skinny-dipping with her
boyfriend.
Tamhas was a little old for that title, but the thought of any more sensual a description made Trulie want to gag. “I do not qualify water polo with your boyfriend as busy,” Trulie snapped in response.

Granny’s chuckle echoed Tamhas’s amused snort. More water splashed. “This better be important,” Granny called out. “Come on, Tamhas. We better see what mess the children have gotten themselves into this time.”

“I’m going to wait over in the clearing at the low side of the pond.” Trulie waited for an answer. None came. All she heard was splashing accompanied by low murmuring. “Did you hear me?”

“We heard you!” Granny shouted in a tone that clearly indicated she was not pleased with Trulie’s timing. “We will be there in a minute.”

Good.
Trulie slid back through the bushes. A narrow path of tramped-down leaves led off in the general direction of the clearing. Arrow-shaped indentations here and there in the soft ground hinted that deer followed the path as a regular route to water.

Pacing around the perimeter of the mossy clearing, Trulie drummed a finger atop her folded arms. What was taking them so long? Trulie squinched her eyes shut and shook her head. No. She did not want to even imagine what was taking them so long.

Granny finally pushed through the bushes. Her eyes sparkled behind her wire-rimmed spectacles. Vibrant pink glowed across her cheeks. Her wet hair trailed down her back in a long silver stream. Trulie couldn’t recall a single time when Granny had looked so…satisfied. Trulie swallowed hard against an involuntary gag.

“Now what is so important it couldn’t wait until the evening meal?” Granny peered over the tops of her glasses while she smoothed back her long, wet hair and twisted it into a knot at the nape of her neck.

“Where’s Tamhas?” Trulie stretched and peered at the tangle of bushes.

Granny’s cheeks flushed an even brighter shade as she gave her hair a final pat. “He’ll be along shortly.”

Judging by the look on Granny’s face, Trulie didn’t want any details. “I need your help,” she blurted out. Granny had to make Gray see reason.

Concern wiped all merriment from Granny’s expression. She shook the wrinkles out of her skirts and took a step forward. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Gray.” Trulie quickened her impatient pacing to a frustrated stomp in a tight circle. “He’s…he’s…” Trulie groaned. “He refuses to see reason.”

Granny studied her with a confused scowl. “About what?” Granny raised her hands and waited again. When Trulie still didn’t speak, she rolled her eyes heavenward and dropped both hands to her sides. “I need a little more to go on than ‘He refuses to see reason.’ ”

Trulie stopped pacing and stared down at the ground. “He can’t understand why I won’t go back in time and keep his parents from dying in that fire.”

“I see,” Granny murmured softly. She held out a hand to Tamhas as he pushed through the brush with his wet hair slicked back into a tight queue. “Did you explain to him why you couldn’t?” Granny snugged Tamhas’s hand to her waist, stroking his burly forearm as she leaned against his shoulder.

“If the lad has set his mind on what he wants, she will no’ be able to turn him no matter what she says.” Tamhas brought Granny’s hand to his lips as he propped his staff against his shoulder.

“He’s right,” Trulie agreed. “I even told him about Tia and he still wants me to go back and save them.”

“He blames himself for his mother’s death,” Tamhas explained. His face darkened with the memory of that night as he stared off into the distance. “Perhaps his guilt is what drives him to no’ see the reason of yer words.”

“But I can’t risk it.” Trulie could tell by the look on Granny’s face the wise old woman had shifted into plotting mode. Good. That’s exactly what this problem needed—a Granny plan of attack. “And since he asked me, and I said no, things aren’t…” Trulie’s voice trailed off as she flicked a limp hand though the air. “They’re just not right anymore.” The uncomfortable weight of the situation crushed Trulie in its grip. A dull ache throbbed through her like an ill-timed heartbeat.

Granny slid from Tamhas’s embrace, easing her way around the circle as she thoughtfully tapped a bent finger against her mouth. After one slow lap around the clearing, she stopped and stared down at the ground. “Perhaps it’s time to study that fateful night from a different angle.” Granny slowly raised her head and stared at Trulie.

Trulie slowly moved forward, barely shaking her head. “Are you talking about alternate timelines?” Now was not the time for Granny to be cryptic.

“No.” Granny shook her head. She scrubbed both hands up and down her arms beneath the bell of her sleeves as though she had taken a sudden chill. “I’m talking about showing Gray what really happened that night—from his parents’ point of view.”

A sense of foreboding shivered through Trulie. “What if what we show him is worse than what he already knows?”

Granny lifted her chin and smoothed her hands down the front of her soft-gray dress. “That is not the case. I knew Gray’s mother well.”

“And you were going to tell me this when?” Trulie did her best to keep her jaw from dropping. Why hadn’t Granny told her this before?

“I’m telling you now. That’s all that matters.” Granny fixed Trulie with a stern look and jerked her head toward the deer path. “Go get Gray. Meet me in the gardens. It’s time he saw the night of the fire from a different perspective.”

He had to let it go. Gray scrubbed his palms against the cold roughness of the stone wall. For sanity’s sake, he had to let it go.

“I canna release it,” he admitted in a defeated whisper. His head drooped forward and he closed his eyes. The night of the fire exploded inside his mind. His mother’s cries. His father’s roared curses. Cythraul’s screams as the terrifying blaze set the fearless warhorse to bucking against the choking, smoke-filled air.

And all of it could be prevented. Gray raised his head, lifted his face to the gentle breeze, and sucked in a deep lungful. If only Trulie would agree, all the pain and terror of that terrible night could be wiped away like blood washed from a shield.

Trulie. Gray fisted one hand and brought it down hard atop the stone. He hated himself for allowing this obsession to drive a wedge between them. What the hell was wrong with him? Since Trulie had arrived in his life he felt whole. Complete. Why the hell did he have to ruin it?

“Yer wanted in the garden,” Colum called from the carved stone steps leading down to the bailey. “Come, Gray. Ye brood o’ermuch about that which canna be changed.”

Damn, Colum. The man had no idea of what he spoke. All Colum knew was the Sinclair women had somehow traveled back from the future. The fool didna realize the extent of the women’s powers.

“Who waits in the garden?” Gray didna move. Why should he? He had no intention of moving from the narrow footpath running atop the curtain wall. Looking out upon the wild beauty of his land was the only solace he found these days.

“Yer woman waits.” Colum shifted on the narrow stairs and leaned against the wall. “A wise man ne’er keeps his woman waiting.”

“What d’ye ken about my woman?” Gray spit over the wall. The taste of the situation curdled on his tongue. He almost flinched at the frustration he heard in his own tone. Lore, he sounded like a man who had just been booted from his lover’s bed. “What does she want?” he said as he leaned with his forearms propped atop the wall. The day was nearly spent. It would soon be the time in the evening when both sun and moon shared the sky as they slowly swapped places, the in-between time when energy painted the horizon with cooling blues and heated crimsons. “What does she want, Colum?” Gray repeated as he turned away from the rugged hills spanning as far as he could see.

Colum turned and loped down a couple of steps. “Come to the garden and ask her yerself.” The grating crunch of his boots thudding down the rest of the staircase shadowed his voice as he called out. “Ye best hurry. Granny is with her and ye ken how patient that old woman is.”

Granny? Suspicion perked all Gray’s senses to battle status. Both Granny and Trulie summoning him to the garden could only mean the two were up to something. Gray closed his eyes and rubbed his knuckles across his forehead. He had the distinct feeling the pounding ache inside his head was about to get a lot worse.