The Highlander's Bargain (24 page)

“I am.” Connor pushed his chair back. “I had but one glass of wine, and it takes far more than that to affect me. If home is where you wish to be, I’ll take you there now.”

Erin glanced at their kitchen clock. It was nearly midnight, and she was drained. “Thanks for listening, and for coming to get me. I really appreciate it.” She slipped her jacket back on and followed Connor to his car. Settling herself in the front seat, she yawned. Time travel did take a toll, and she was exhausted and aching all over. All the emotions churning through her wore her out even more. “I’m sorry Robley didn’t tell you about the deal he made and that he had a way back.”

“Think nothing of it. Do you want the documents being made for him? I should be getting them in the next week or so.”

“Sure. They’re souvenirs of my brief marriage to a fifteenth-century Scottish Highlander.” Her one and only marriage, that was certain. For the rest of the trip home, she stared out the car window at nothing. She’d throw herself into school, pick up as many nursing shifts as possible and keep herself busy until the pain of her broken heart dulled. What else could she do?

Erin shifted her school backpack to her left shoulder and stuck her key into the lock. Her first week back to her routine had been brutal, beginning with this morning’s proof that she wasn’t pregnant—another loss to grieve. A small part of her had wished for that forever link to Rob, and it sucked to find out she’d been denied even that comfort. The rational part of her knew it was for the best, but love wasn’t rational.

She had just enough time to make herself something to eat before showering and changing into scrubs for the nursing shift she’d picked up for tonight.
Keep busy
. Her new mantra. Sighing, she dumped her stuff on the kitchen counter. She opened the freezer in search of something to tempt her nonexistent appetite. The phone began to ring just as she popped a frozen dinner into the microwave and pushed the start button. She snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

“Erin, it’s Mom.” Her mother’s voice sounded shaky. “You got a minute?”

“Only a minute.” Her heart wrenched. She knew what was coming. “Thirty seconds, actually. I’m working tonight.” She had no sympathy to offer. Her own heartbreak still smarted.

“I’m leaving George,” she said with a watery sniff.

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Can I come stay with you until I get myself on my feet again?”

Erin stifled the rising groan. Her mother getting herself on her feet again meant finding stepdad number five. “Sure. You have a key.” She’d moved Robley’s stuff to her bedroom. It made her feel more married, or like he was still in her life. Crazy, she knew, but it helped ease the grief. The microwave dinged. “I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later.”

“Thank you, baby. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d manage, Mom. Give yourself some credit.” Maybe this time she could talk some sense into her mother, get her to consider a few alternatives. “You know where everything is.”

They said their good-byes, and Erin ate, got ready for work and left for the hospital. Funny. Her heart was broken, and instead of turning to her mother for comfort, she’d called Connor and Katherine.
OK. Not so funny. Mostly tragic.

Her shift at the hospital had been an easy one, and it was still early enough for Erin to get a decent night’s sleep. For that she was grateful. She pulled her car into her parking space, glancing at her mom’s car in one of the guest spots. Hopefully Jane was already in bed. Erin was too tired to listen to her go on and on about how her soon-to-be ex-husband was the one at fault for yet another failed relationship.

She climbed the stairs to her apartment, thoughts of Robley filling her mind. How long would it take before the memories began to fade? Maybe she’d write it all down just so she could look back and remember.
A scrapbook!
Yes, she’d create a scrapbook. Thank goodness they had taken pictures with her iPhone. Unlocking her door, she heard the muffled sound of the TV from inside. “Drat,” she muttered as she opened the door to the smell of cigarette smoke. “Hi, Mom. You can’t smoke in here. This is a smoke-free building. It’s in my lease.”

“Oh. I thought that was just when you were here. Sorry.” Her mom stubbed out her cigarette on a coffee saucer set on the table. “How was work?”

Erin surveyed her apartment, taking note of the dirty dishes filling the sink and her mother’s clothing and shoes strewn about. Robley’s bedroom might’ve been a mess, but when it came to the rest of the apartment, he’d always been thoughtful about cleaning up after himself. “Work was fine.”

That’s all the invitation her mom needed. She launched into her diatribe about all the wrongs done to her by her loser husband. Erin listened awhile before anger stiffened her spine. She had her own losses to deal with.

She studied her mom. Bleached-blond hair and puffy around the eyes, Jane looked older than her forty-four years, but she still dressed like she was in her twenties. Life hadn’t been easy for her mother. Mostly due to her own bad decisions, but still, Erin could see that she’d been crying. She softened, and her anger dissolved. “Any chance you and George might reconcile?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Have you tried marriage counseling? You never know; it might help.”

Jane gasped. “That’s what I said, but he won’t go. We never do anything together anymore. All he does is go to work, come home and sit in front of the TV, drinking beer.” She swiped at a single tear making its way down her cheek. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Did he say that?”

“No, but I can tell.”

She wondered what George’s side of this argument might sound like. She’d always liked the guy. “Why don’t you go to school, Mom? Get some kind of training so you can make a decent living on your own. Stay single for a few years.”

“What?” Jane reached for her pack of cigarettes. Glancing at Erin, she put them back down. “I can’t afford to go to school, and besides, I’m too old for that now.”

“No you’re not. Lots of people who lost their jobs in this recession are back in school and starting over. Get into a program that only lasts for eighteen months, something in the medical field.” She had the two diamonds to sell, plus she still had True’s debit card. “I can loan you the money, and once you have a job, you can pay me back.”

Her mother shrugged her shoulders as if disinterested and turned back to the TV, but Erin saw another tear follow the first. “Mom, you’ve been married and divorced five times. I’ve had four stepfathers. You can’t keep looking for men to take care of you. At some point you have to start being responsible for yourself.”

“What do you know about it?” her mother snapped. “You’ve never been in love. It’s not like I set out to wreck my life because of some man. It just happens. Besides, I have a job. I’m a receptionist at—”

“I know plenty,” Erin snapped back. “I just had my heart broken. I lost the only man I will ever love,” she muttered under her breath.

“Really?” Her mother blinked at her. “Well, you’ll get over it. I always do.”

How like her mother to dismiss Erin’s pain. Her hands fisted at her side, and her chest tightened.

Jane rose from her huddled place on the sofa. “I’ll clean up here before I go to bed. I do appreciate your letting me stay with you, sweetie, and I promise—no more smoking in the building.”

“Thanks.”

“You know,” she said, her voice hesitant, “your daddy was the love of my life. My biggest regret is that he and I didn’t make it stick. We were just so young, only nineteen when you were born. All that responsibility was just too much for a couple of kids.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “Did Dad have any special abilities that you know of?”

“Hell yes.” Her mother chuckled. “That man was the best lover I ever had. He knew what I wanted and how I wanted it without my ever having to say a word.”

“Ew. TMI.” Erin shot her mother a shocked look. Did that mean her dad had the ability to pick up on the physical reactions of others? “I’m beat.” Erin stretched. “Will you at least think about school?”

“Sure, baby. I’ll think about it.” Her mom crossed the room and gave her a hug. “I’m proud of you. I’m so glad you’re doing something with your life, and you aren’t making the same mistakes I did.”

“You are?” Her eyes filled. “This is the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”

Her mom let go of her. “Maybe getting older is making me a little wiser.”

“Things are going to work out,” Erin told her. “I don’t believe George has fallen out of love with you. Maybe he’s going through something that has nothing to do with how he feels about you. Did you ever think about that?”

“Maybe. Whatever it is, he won’t talk about it.”

“Give it some time.” She started down the hall. “Good night.”

Sadness pressed painfully against Erin’s heart for what she’d lost and for what she’d never have—a family of her own. Too much. It had all been too much. She thought about calling the McGladreys or Mark, just to talk to someone who’d known Robley. But she didn’t want to encourage Mark. She was a MacKintosh, and MacKintosh women gave their hearts only once and for all time. Besides, she had a more pressing call to make.

She closed her bedroom door behind her and took her cell phone out of her purse. She had to search in her contacts for her dad’s number. Her calls to him were so seldom she didn’t have his number memorized. She touched the numbers and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. It’s Erin.”

“Oh, hey. How’re you doing, kiddo? It’s kind of late. Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. I’m almost done with school, and I’m still picking up nursing shifts when I can. How are you and your family?”

“Good. Good.” There was a long pause. “What is it, Erin? Something’s bothering you.”

“I have a few really weird questions.” She bit her lip. “Genetic, family history type questions.”

“Fire away. I’ll answer if I can.”

“Well, here goes. I’ve always had this ability to pick up on people’s physical reactions to things. I can tell where my patients hurt and what they need in order to feel better. I can also ease their pain with my touch.” She sucked in a breath and forged on. “Do you have any special abilities, or did you ever hear of anyone else on your side of the family tree who had . . . gifts like that?” Another long pause ensued. “You still there, Dad?”

“Yep. Just chewing on my answer before I spit it out.” He sighed into the phone. “Yeah, I guess you could say I have what I’ve always called ‘an edge.’ I know what people want from me, and when I want to, I can use that to my advantage. It’s why I’m so good at sales. Your great-granny, now . . . she was downright spooky. If anything happened to any of her children, she’d know about it long before word came to her. She’d get these spells where she’d know what was going to happen before it happened. Not that it did any of us any good, though. There weren’t any lotteries back then.” He chuckled.

“Any idea where it comes from?” she asked, and then held her breath.

“Granny always said it came with being Scottish. I don’t think it comes from anywhere, kiddo. I think some of us are just born that way.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“Me too, I guess. Granny told a few stories about the other odd apples on our family tree who had the gifts.”

“Thanks. At least I know where I got it from now.” Of course, he’d made no mention of faeries on that family tree, and neither would she. More than likely her dad had no idea faeries even existed. Until a certain fifteenth-century knight had plowed into her life, she’d had no idea either. They spent another few minutes getting caught up, and she listened to her dad tell her what all her half siblings were up to, making appropriate sounds of interest when necessary. “Are you interested in attending my graduation in December, Dad?”

“I’ll try. Send me the info, kiddo, but you know what my schedule is like, especially around the holidays.”

“Well, let me know and I’ll reserve chairs for you and Cheryl.”

“Will do. Good talking to you, Erin.”

“You too.” They hung up, and she held her phone in her lap for a while and stared at it. At least she could say for certain which side of the family tree her abilities had come from—not that it changed anything or did her any good. Her dad hadn’t brought up faeries and neither had she. Probably not likely that her great-granny had brought up the subject either. If they did have fae genes, it would’ve happened so long ago that they’d have no way of knowing.