Redeeming Vows (5 page)

“Well,” Myra waved her hand over a fallen log and the leaves upon it scattered under the wind she called to clear a place to sit. “My power is convenient. Not like yours, Fin.”

Liz brought her eyes to his slowly. “What is your greatest power?”

Fin let one side of his lips turn up into what he was sure resembled a smirk. His fingers spread wide and the ground started to shake. The horses neighed in protest when the ground under their feet rumbled. Simon turned and calmed them with a few words. Liz’s mouth opened wide along with her eyes.

Fin closed his palms and the earth quieted once again.

“That is so cool, Fin,” Simon said.

“Impressive,” Liz offered. “I’m not sure how helpful it’s going to be, but I’m sure we can work with it.”

Fin’s ego took a dive, as did his smirk. He bit back his retort and glared at Myra when she chuckled.

“Where should we start?” Simon asked.

Liz stepped to the bank of the stream. “I thought it would be best for us to flex some of our firepower here, where Myra can use her skills to put out any flames that may get out of control.”

“How do you suggest I do that?”

“Well, can you lift some of the river water out of its path?”

Myra bit her lip and glanced over to the pounding current. “I’ve never tried.”

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“Well then, now’s a good time.”

Her eyes narrowed when her palms reached toward the water. Fin noticed the small twitch in her left eye as she concentrated on her task. A gust of wind blew past him, leaves whipped from the forest floor, but the water seemed unaffected by her efforts.

Her arms dropped. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Try this,” Liz scooped water into her palms and tossed it in the air. “When it’s in the air, move it.”

She repeated the action and Myra studied the airborne water. A few drops slid horizontally before falling to the ground.

“Again,” Liz commanded.

This time a larger amount of water fell under Myra’s command.

“Fin, call a flame in a ball and toss it over here.

Myra, try and put the flame out with the water I throw.”

Nodding, Fin surged heat from his thoughts and his palm rounded the flame the size of his fist. He tossed the orb lightly to aid Myra in her task. Her aim was off and the fire bent to the river to put itself out. “Again,” Liz called out.

Within a half an hour, the front of Liz’s dress dripped with water and Myra stood noticeably taxed from her efforts. Yet as his flames reached over the water, Myra successfully extinguished them.

“I think she needs a break,” Todd placed an arm around his wife and kneaded her shoulders between his large hands. “You okay?”

“Aye.” But she leaned against him in obvious exhaustion.

Liz turned away from the river and sat on a fallen log. “How do you round the flame into a ball?”

Simon took a seat beside her and listened.

Fin glanced at his audience with a smile, his 34

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battered ego pleased that she looked to him for guidance. “First you need to be able to call the flame and hold it above your palm.”

“How do you do that?”

Fin reached for Simon’s hand and turned it palm up. Out of nowhere, a small round ball of fire emerged from Fin’s fingertips. There it hovered less than an inch from his skin. “Think of it as you would a ball of string. As it reaches toward your skin bat it away.” He handed the flame over to Simon, ready to intervene if the lad wasn’t able to control the orb.

He heard Liz suck in a deep breath when the flame lowered onto her son’s palm. She didn’t say a word when the flame lowered to an uncomfortable level. Simon extended his fingers and the fire bounced in the air.

“Awesome!” He bounced it again. Fin stood back.

Pride filled him as he watched Simon’s newfound power.

“Now, toss it to the river.”

When the heat sizzled in the water, Simon pivoted toward him grinning ear to ear. “Cool. You gotta try it, Mom. It’s so easy.”

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and held out her hand. Fin clasped his palm to the back of her hand. Although her hand felt cold and rigid in his, warmth spread throughout his arm. “Relax,” he told her, catching her gaze. The spark in her blue eyes hit him right below his belt. He inched his fingertips around to her pulse and noted the rapid tat of her heartbeat. “You need to settle.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

Her eyes narrowed in challenge but instead of her usual rebuttal, she closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her chest elevated and the creamy white of her breasts pushed up through the swooping neckline of her gown. For a brief moment, he 35

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wondered if the nipples on her breasts were a rosy pink bud or a darkened tan patch. His groin tightened and his heart rate started to climb.

“
You
need to settle,” Liz repeated his words bringing his attention to her eyes that were now open and watching his.

Turning away from her feminine curves, Fin opened his hand to another ball of fire. He lowered the fire to her palm as he had Simon’s, all the while holding her hand safely in his. As the ball inched closer she attempted to bat it away, but the flame continued to fall. His hand reached forward controlling the ball once again.

“Try again.”

She sighed and stared at the fire, determined.

This time she managed to move the ball, but as it came down a second time, it fell onto her palm.

Her fingers automatically curled around it. She let out a screech, and dropped it. Fin shifted to retrieve the ball just as her gown caught fire.

She froze and Simon yelled.

Fin dropped to his knees batting at the flames.

“Myra!”

“Shit.”

Myra spun toward the river; her hands hovered in the air. A rush of wind fell upon them, along with it a waterfall of moisture. Fin looked up to see Liz’s hair streaming down her face. The flames were out, and she stood trembling. From the cold or fear of the dead flames, he couldn’t tell.

“Are you okay, lass?”

Liz shook herself. Her lower lip quivered.

“Again,” she whispered. ****

After lunch, Liz found a secluded spot next to the river out of view of the others. They practiced with the ball of flames continuously until she controlled it long enough to bounce it three times.

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However, the task had cost her. She glanced over her shoulder making sure no one watched before kneeling to the water’s edge. Forcing her hand into the cold stream, her eyes rolled back, and her back teeth ground together. She lifted her hand and stared at the blistering skin.

It hurt like hell. The burn happened when the flames lapped up her gown. Her reaction scared her.

She’d frozen, completely unable to help herself, and that pissed her off. She cursed herself, knowing how freezing up in the face of danger could cost any of them their lives. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it.

At the time, all she could see was her body burning and her son watching.

“What are you doing?” Fin’s voice came from behind her.

She stood quickly, pivoted and hid her hand behind her back. “Washing, I was washing up.”

“Why are you holding your hand behind your back?”

She let it fall to her side, but hid the damage from his eyes.

It didn’t work. He was beside her in two steps, her hand in his palm and under his scrutiny. “When did we do this?”

“I’m fine, Finlay. No big deal.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were scorched? We should have stopped earlier.” He tugged her back to the water, immersing her hand as she’d done. “Leave it there.”

My pleasure.
The relief of the cold water brought a sigh from her lips.

Fin clasped the hem of her gown and proceeded to tear at the material.

“What are you doing?”

“Sit back,” he commanded.

She watched as he tore a strip of material free, dunked it in the water, and then reached for her 37

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hand. Liz sat back and let him tend to the burn. His tight jaw held back words she knew he wanted to say but didn’t. He was angry, that she sensed. But at what?

“We knew that playing with fire could result in one of us getting burned.”

“I’d rather it had been me than you.”

What could she say to that? She didn’t know so she opted for silence.

He finished his task of bandaging her palm and then sat holding her hand. “How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.” Instead of letting go, he helped her to her feet. They stood beside each other, neither speaking. Her complete awareness of him trickled down to her toes. She sucked in her lower lip and did her best not to stare at him. His genuine concern for her well-being thrust them to a different plane. When they sparred, it proved easy to stay away from him. But this, this quiet response chiseled away at the wall she’d built up from the first time they’d set eyes on each other.

He held her hand and stared into her eyes. Liz swayed closer.

Simon called them from the cottage. “We should start back.”

Fin nodded and walked her to their horses. He refused to let her do anything other than watch as he assisted Todd and Simon with the saddles.

“Are you okay?” Myra asked gesturing toward her hand.

“It’s just a small burn.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected. We’ll have Ma put some salve on it when we return. Overall I think this worked well, don’t you?”

Liz tore her eyes away from Fin and smiled.

“Yeah, I think so, too. Each time we practice, we’ll get better. Tasks will come easier.”

“’Tis the best we can do.”

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“We’re ready,” Simon called to them.

Liz took the reins and winced. Fin let out a curse. “Hold on.”

Without asking, Fin lifted her onto her horse with ease. “Can you manage with your other hand?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Stubborn woman. Like ye’d tell me if it were otherwise.” That was better. Fin’s accent always thickened when he was angry. Anger was a hell of a lot easier of an emotion to concern herself with than anything resembling affection.

They started back to the keep, slightly battered, certainly exhausted, and more importantly, well practiced.

Tomorrow they could do it all over again.

****

Amber sat with her eyes closed while Tara handed her objects.

“What about this one?”

Amber wrinkled her nose. “’Tis from the kitchen.”

It was a cloth used to clean and most likely Cian retrieved it from the cook.

“Yes.”

“But I can smell it, Tara. That gave it away.”

“Oh, well, how about this?” Into her hands, Tara placed a necklace. One she’d brought with her from the twenty-first century. She’d purchased it at the Renaissance Faire where she’d met Duncan. Cassy, her best friend in that time, bought one just like it.

Amber’s smile fell. “’Tis yours I think. You wear it with some sadness.” Her eyes opened. “Why does it make you unhappy?”

Tara’s fingers curled around the chain. “Not sadness really, just the feeling of a memory that will have to be with me for a lifetime. Like one you have when someone passes. You remember them with love and joy, but a heavy heart in that you’ll never 39

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see them again.”

“I understand.”

“More importantly, you’re right. Reading objects is getting easier than it was when we started.”

“Should we do more?”

Tara nodded and handed her a shirt from Simon.

Cian slipped quietly into the far room of the keep with more objects in his hands. After some time, Amber was able to determine whom the objects belonged to.

“What is your greatest gift, Cian? I’m embarrassed to say I don’t know.”

Having passed his eighteenth birthday, Cian no longer resembled the awkward boy he was when Tara had first arrived in this century. He towered over her to the height of his brothers and father.

“I’m fairly capable of fire, moving the wind comes with some ease although I’m not nearly as good with it as Myra is. My true gift still eludes me.

Sometimes I see images I can’t explain, and when I concentrate the images change, but I have no idea what they mean.”

“What do you see?”

“Circles, lines. Floating particles that all move in one direction. It feels like a type of energy.”

“Can you draw a picture of what you see?”

“I suppose I could.”

Somewhere in the back of Tara’s mind, his description sounded familiar.

A timid knock sounded on the door to their hideaway. “It’s me,” Lora’s voice called.

Amber scrambled to unlock the door and welcomed her mother.

“Are they back yet?”

“Nay, but I believe they are on their way.”

“It does feel that way,” Tara said almost to herself. “It’s strange how easily we all have 40

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connected to the point where we know if someone is near or far, hurt or well.”

Just then, Amber glanced down at her hand and brought it up to her eyes. “Lizzy’s hurt.”

“What?” All three of them pivoted in her direction.

She lifted both palms and studied them. “She will need salve, Ma. ’Tisn’t serious. A simple burn.”

****

Fin lifted her from the saddle under protest. She hated to admit it, but her palm hurt, big time. The throbbing started shortly after they left their hidden spot in the woods and proceeded to increase in intensity during their ride home. To make matters worse, Tara, Amber, and Lora met them in the courtyard. As Fin’s squire helped him with his mount and signaled others to follow, Amber descended upon her like a mother hen, which struck Liz as humorous considering the age of the girl.

“Are ye well?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“I think not. My first impression wasn’t as strong as it is now. Come inside.”

Liz held her injured hand above her heart easing some of the pain. Once inside and sitting on one of the many chairs in the great hall, Liz let Amber unwrap her hand.

Under the bandage, more than a simple burn emerged. In truth, the pain in the center was minimal to that on the edges lapping around to the backside of her hand. There it felt as if fire still licked the sensitive surface.