Lost Bride Chapter 15

THIRTEEN

A HISTORY LESSON

After a week in the hospital, Rory was ready to be anywhere else. Lucy had tried to prepare him for car travel, but nothing had prepared her for Rory’s reaction. For the first several minutes, he hung his head out of the window to feel the wind on his face. Lucy wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it was clear she had an adrenaline junkie on her hands. Just watching him made her grin. Nothing fazed him. When he wasn’t asking her to go faster, he was busy asking how—about everything.

“Ignition? You set it on fire?”

“Uh, well, I don’t know. It’s got spark plugs, so I guess there must be a spark somewhere.”

“Why are flames not shooting out from the front there?”

“From the hood? Good question. I don’t know.”

After several more questions, Lucy pulled over to the side of the road and turned to him.

“Rory. It’s a car. I don’t know how it works, but it works. When it doesn’t, I take it to someone who knows how to make it work again. Honestly, it could be magic for all I know.”

He drew back, alarmed. “Magic?”

“No! I didn’t mean literally.” Lucy reminded herself that in Rory’s century, they’d only recently stopped burning witches in Scotland, so magic might not have been the best word to throw around lightly. “What I mean is, I don’t know what goes on under the hood. All I’ve ever bothered to know was how to put this key in this ignition and drive.”

“May I try?”

“Now? I don’t know.”

“I taught you to ride horses.” He looked at her as if she owed him.

The look of triumph on his face told her there was no winning this one. “Well, okay, but not here on a winding mountain road. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to an empty parking lot.”

Lucy felt a sudden surge of compassion for every parent who’d ever taught a teenager to drive.

Rory leaned over to hug her but was stopped by the seat belt. “Och! Curse this harness you’ve forced me to wear!”

She did feel some sympathy but not as much as she’d felt for him the first time he put on briefs and blue jeans. He did not enjoy them at all. But she did. She smiled as she recalled her first glimpse of him walking about in his new clothes. Nope, she had no problem with Rory in jeans.

They pulled into the driveway at her mother’s house. “Is your mother a crofter?”

“No, many of us live in small houses these days. Although there are some of what you would call castles down the road in Westchester County.”

After they got out of the car, Lucy opened the fake rock her mom kept near the porch and pulled the house key out. “It’s not a real rock,” she explained before Rory could ask. “It’s supposed to trick burglars.”

“But can they not just use it to break the glass?”

“I guess they could, but no one has yet.” She opened the front door. “My mother’s a crazy adventurer. She’s away more than she’s home.”

Once they’d set down their shopping bags, Lucy took Rory’s hand and led him out to the deck. Built high on a hill, the house overlooked a reservoir. Because it was one of many that supplied drinking water to New York City, homes were not built near the shore, leaving an unspoiled view of woodlands and shimmering water.

Lucy leaned her elbows on the deck rail. “Do you like it here?”

“Oh, aye.” Rory turned from the view and fixed his eyes on Lucy. “’Tis a fine view wherever I look.” He stepped closely behind her, pulled her into his arms, and looked out at the view.

“I mean here in this century,” Lucy said.

“Aye, I like it just fine.”

She gazed out over the reservoir. “I’m sorry I took you away from your home. I know you must miss your family and castle.”

“You saved my life.”

“But you saw what I went through when I tried to come home. What if you can’t go back?”

“My family’s there and my home and land that I love.”

Lucy looked down and nodded. Rory gave her shoulders a squeeze. “But the woman I love is right here.”

“I don’t have a castle or even a home. And I lost my job while I was away. I can’t promise you much.”

“Then just promise me you.”

She would have answered if he hadn’t kissed her.

After their parking

lot driving lesson the next morning, Rory rested his hands on the wheel of Lucy’s parked car, looking deeply disappointed. “A learner’s permit?”

Lucy winced. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have let you do this much.”

“Then let us go get a permit.”

She wrinkled her face. “I don’t think we can. You haven’t got any ID. Identification. You’re kind of an illegal alien where the law is concerned.” She sighed. “When we get home, I can look it up to be sure.”

“I didnae see a library at your mother’s house.”

“No, but we’ve got something better—the internet.” She answered his questioning look. “Just wait.”

“It’s another TV.”

Rory stood beside Lucy as she sat at her desk.

“Hold on.” She opened a browser window and began to type. As she clicked on results, Rory moved closer and leaned on the desk.

As she had suspected, Rory’s learner’s permit was not going to happen. But by the time she was sure, Rory had discovered the wondrous power of internet links.

“I can look up anything?” he asked.

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

“May I?”

She smiled and handed him the wireless keyboard. Rory proceeded to hunt and peck his way through “Kildermoor Castle.” When a page of search results appeared, he leaned back in surprise.

Lucy watched his joy quickly turn to dismay.

He read

the web page with a sinking gut feeling, then he read it again. “Is this real? Could there be some mistake?”

Lucy’s wide-open eyes did not ease his fears. “Well, it’s the internet. Not everything on it is true.” She switched places with him and began typing search terms and opening windows. One after another confirmed the news until he put his hand over her typing fingers. “That’s enough.” He stood and went out to the deck. Lucy followed, but when he held out his palm without turning, she left him alone.

The text remained on the monitor: “The once grand Kildermoor Castle was lost late one evening in a high-stakes faro card game, rendering the new laird and his father homeless.”

One sentence on a history website had dispensed with Rory’s home and the life he had known. He sank into a chair and silently wept. Lest Lucy see him unman himself, he tamped it all down and regained his composure as well as he could. Then he thought of those heather-clad braes that sloped down, and the burn that flowed through the glen. How he used to love walking through the knee-deep heather up to the place where the mist touched the mountains. It was all lost—his home and everything in it.

And Angus. Laird?

The internet said it had happened in 1746, but it didn’t say on what date. What if there was a chance he could prevent it?

He had to go back.

Lucy leaned

against the kitchen counter and watched Rory on the deck. He’d waved her away. Now he sat in a chair, his face buried in his hands.

She could only imagine how devastating it must have been for him to read what had happened. He was too proud to be seen in a moment of weakness, assuming it could be called weak to be vulnerable. But he came from a time and a place where men’s idea of fun competition was to throw giant logs and stones. Winning was not so much about beating another man down as it was showing superior strength. Conversely, losing came not from defeat at the hands of another, but from one’s own lesser strength. Strength was power.

To be seen in a moment of powerlessness would be more than any proud Highlander could bear. But she wondered if men in his century had ever considered the strength of the women beside them. Theirs was a silent strength not built upon flashy displays of power, but from compassion tempered by well-reasoned thought and unwavering constancy. Lucy wanted to be that for him, but she stood on the threshold, unable to take that one last step to be with him whatever may come and, at the heart of the matter, wherever.

When she could stand it no more, she slid open the glass door and went out to Rory. He reached out his hand and pulled her onto his lap, then he held her for a long while, with only the gentle whispers of leaves interrupting the quiet.

“I must go back.”

“I know.”

To say she was torn did no justice to the torment she felt as she prepared to leave her home forever. She only hoped that she could follow through and go with him. Yet deep in her heart, she could not see herself walking away from her life.

When she was growing up, she and her mother had always been a team, and their team had won life. Her mother had shown her that a woman’s strength did not come from a man, but from within. She’d taught Lucy to strive and to work hard toward her goals, and Lucy was beginning to achieve her life goals. Her career was going well. She had a small nest egg. She had good friends. The truth was, she wanted for nothing—at least, that was what she’d thought before she met Rory.

Rory had toppled the foundation she’d thought her life was built upon. He was the polar opposite of Tyler, a man she’d been with for many years. Yet one month with Rory had made her forget about the years spent with Tyler. Rory had a fiery passion for life, his home, and his family that shone through his eyes and drove everything he did.

Lucy had never felt that kind of passion for her job or her life, so to be near someone like that was a thrill. And that was the problem. Was her time with Rory like a vacation fling in which everything seemed magical because it wasn’t real even though she pretended that it was? Or were her feelings enough to give up everything? Everything. Forever.

She wasn’t quite sure, and Rory hadn’t specifically asked her if she was coming with him. He either assumed it or hoped it, unwilling to upset the delicate balance of logic from which she would base her decision.

Because she couldn’t decide, she put it off. It only made sense to get her things in order. That way, her options were open. To that end, she wrote a letter to her mother, explaining everything, including the location of the stone chamber in case something went wrong. What that could be, she didn’t know, but it seemed like the smart thing to do. The only things left were her personal belongings, her bank account, and her 401K. She hadn’t changed banks since her college days, so her mother was still an authorized signer on her checking and savings. Her mom could transfer what was left before she declared Lucy missing. As the designated beneficiary of her 401K, her mother would receive its funds after Lucy was declared dead. That took her breath for a moment. Her mother would have to go through that.

Clothed in his plaid and drinking a craft beer, Rory stopped pacing the deck and peeked inside. “Lucy, the sun will set soon.”

“Ready.” Lucy wiped her eyes and picked up her backpack containing her eighteenth-century garb, and they were off.

Rather than tromp

across the grounds of the wedding venue, they hiked through the woods and arrived at the stone chamber well before dark. Rory stooped to look inside then came back out. There was no need for Lucy to look to determine the state of the stone chamber, but she did.

She spoke as though sounding sensible would make it happen. “We’ll keep trying.”

In Rory’s eyes, Lucy saw the same crestfallen look he must have seen so many times back in Scotland. Abstracted, he nodded.

Overwhelming relief washed over her, and she felt guilty for it. Yes, she wanted what was best for him. But if that was not possible, she wanted him. If the chamber didn’t work, that meant she would not have to choose. She slipped her arms about his waist and laid her head against his chest. He held her and accepted her comfort, not knowing that his torment had brought her relief.

Leaves crunched, and twigs snapped as someone approached.

“Oh, thank God I’m not too late!”

“Mom?”

There stood Wendy Buchanan, a fit forty-something brunette with a short, wavy bob, wearing a tank shirt, cargo pants, and hiking shoes. Lucy rushed into her arms.

“I was so scared I’d missed you.” Wendy stepped back and held Lucy’s face in her hands. “I read your letter. Oh my gosh, Lucy!” She hugged her again. There were tears in her eyes. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Lucy took her mom’s hand and turned. “This is Rory.”

After a knowing smile, Wendy gave Rory a hug.

Seeing the slightly stunned look on Rory’s face, Lucy explained, “We hug a lot here in the future—or at least in my family.” She grinned broadly.

Wendy glanced at the stone chamber then at Lucy. “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know.” Lucy’s gaze drifted from her mother to Rory. “Should we wait?”

Rory nodded grimly then glanced inside the chamber.

Lucy and Wendy were busily catching up on Lucy’s adventure and Wendy’s trip home, when Rory said, “Lucy.”

Not hearing him, Wendy continued. “And then the baboon stole my purse—with my cell phone and passport!”

“Lucy,” Rory said a bit more insistently. “Look.”

Sunlight poured in through the back of the chamber.

Out of sheer ingrained politeness, Rory gave Wendy his full attention long enough to say, “Mrs. Buchanan, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

Lucy stared at her mother then at Rory.

A helpless expression crossed Rory’s face as he held out his hand. “We need to go.”

All she seemed able to do was look into his eyes, those dark, deep-set eyes that she loved.

“Lucy?”

Slowly, she shook her head.

Rory took her into his arms. “Don’t do this. You know I can’t stay. My family needs me.”

“Mine too. I’m sorry.”

He stood there, unwilling to leave yet unable to stay.

A thick mist covered the opening as it started to fade. With a look so bereft that her heart broke, he said, “I will always love you.” He kissed her fiercely then tore himself away and walked into the stone chamber.

Wendy gripped Lucy’s shoulders. “Go after him.”

“I can’t leave… here.”

Wendy looked shocked. “You mean me. Listen to me. Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re going.” She spoke with a mother’s insistence, but Lucy couldn’t seem to move.

Then Wendy’s eyes brightened, and she lifted her chin. “You know, I haven’t been to Scotland in ages.” With that, Wendy pushed Lucy into the stone chamber and through the fading stone wall.