Lost Bride Chapter 6

FOUR

ROAD CLOSED

Once more, Lucy emerged from the cairn, forcing back desperate longing for something that just couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry, lass.”

She lifted her chin and looked bravely at him. “Well, I’ll just have to keep trying.”

He smiled and gave her an encouraging nod. “Aye, that you will.”

“In the meanwhile, I need a job.”

“Are you daft?”

“I don’t think so, although I do seem to be suffering under the impression that I’ve traveled through time to 1746—not exactly the bellwether of a person who’s sane. But I’ll earn my keep.” Although, as she said it, she wasn’t quite sure how. She couldn’t imagine there was much of a demand in 1746 for a marketing representative.

“You’re a guest in my home. I’ll not have you insulting my hospitality by working. It would reflect badly on me, and you wouldnae want that.”

He almost appeared to be smiling, but she couldn’t be sure. There were times when she wasn’t quite sure how to take Rory. And after the previous night, she wasn’t taking any chances.

They rode home in comfortable silence. As they drew close to the castle, Lucy asked, “Would you mind if I walked the rest of the way?”

He pulled on the reins to bring his horse to a stop. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

That surprised her. “No, not at all.” She hadn’t expected him to spend any more time with her than he had to, but there they were, walking. She considered her words with great care before speaking. “About last night…”

He shook his head to dismiss her, but she pressed on. “I’m sorry. It was none of my business. I suppose I could say I was just trying to make conversation, but I was genuinely interested.”

He cast a sharp eye in her direction but then looked straight ahead. “Dinnae waste your interest on me—or your time.”

“Well, at the moment, time seems to be all that I have.”

“I’ve got nothing of interest to benefit you or anyone else.” He resumed walking.

“I wasn’t asking for anything. I just meant you’re an interesting person, and frankly, I could use a friend here.”

He appeared a little insulted. “Have I not made you feel welcome?”

“Yes, of course. I just meant—look, sorry I asked. Never mind.” She was growing a little frustrated for being made to feel guilty for making conversation. She could only imagine this guy at a water cooler. He would be the life of the cube dwellers. But he was her host, so she would try to overlook his irritable manner. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been hurt. Angus told me—”

Rory stopped and turned to face her, his eyes bright with anger. “What did he tell you?”

She was taken aback by what seemed like an overreaction. “Well, he told me you’d only been married a few months before Margery died.”

Rory let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, did he?”

Lucy nodded, confused.

“And that’s all he told you?”

“Yes.” If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was amused.

Rory resumed walking. “You were right. He really is a bastard.”

She took quick steps to keep up. “Rory—”

With a bitter smile, he said, “Enough about me. Let’s talk about things that are painful to you, like your wedding.”

Lucy stopped. She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. “I guess I had that coming,” she said softly.

Rory’s brow furrowed, perhaps with regret, but he offered no words of remorse.

It was Lucy’s turn to be bitter, but she managed to keep her tone measured. “All right. There’s not much to tell. I started to walk down the aisle, then Tyler announced to the world that the wedding was off. And that’s it—my sad story. I hate men, and I think being a bastard must run in your family.” She walked briskly into the castle then ran to her room, where she closed the door and breathed deeply while catching her breath. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the wall. She was not going to cry.

The mountains

beyond Lucy’s window were shrouded in mist as the afternoon sun gave way to gray dusk. It was this time of day, when the darkness was falling, that she felt most like grieving her loss, and hopeless longing for home overtook her.

Another in a series of periodic knocks at the door resumed.

“Lucy?” It was Rory again. Well, the man was tenacious. But so was she. And she wasn’t ready to face him, not yet. She supposed they were even. She might even have hurt him more than he’d hurt her. The difference was, she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

A few minutes later, another knock sounded. “Miss Buchanan?”

“Come in, Effie.”

With Rory close on her heels, Effie winced and mouthed, “I’m sorry,” then set down a tray and made a hasty exit.

He was determined to have his say, and it was his house—well, his castle—so Lucy looked straight into his eyes and waited.

“You have every right to be angry. I lashed out at you because of my own pain, and I’m sorry.”

“I was trying to get to know you. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Aye. I’m not used to answering questions, at least not about that. We’re a bit isolated here, and everyone knows everyone else’s business. So I’ve not had to talk about it in a very long time.”

Lucy nodded. “I get that. I’m not exactly eager to talk about Tyler. So why don’t we just agree not to talk about things—people—who upset us.” She offered her hand to seal the deal.

“First, I must say one last thing.”

Her face wrinkled. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it. “What?”

“I must tell you that your Tyler sounds like—as you would put it—a jerk.”

Lucy grinned and shook his hand. “No argument there.”

Warm daubs

of color softened the landscape. Lucy drew in a deep breath of crisp autumn air. What a glorious morning. Rory had said they could use a distraction, so leaving behind the grand Castle Munro, they rode through the glen and up into the hills. Lucy clung to Rory’s waist, hoping she would always remember the feel of fresh air on her face and the smell of the grass and the heather as they rode over the deep velvet green of the hills. She felt free there, on horseback in the Highlands of Scotland. Or was it the past that had freed her? Perhaps it was simply the distance from Tyler and the disappointment he’d caused. But after the initial shock and embarrassment, unexpected relief had settled in. Maybe Tyler had been the braver of the two, or the more honest at least, for he’d voiced the same doubts she’d refused to admit even to herself. She still would rather he’d done it before the wedding, not during.

Still, seven years was a long time to be with somebody. Doubts or not, the rejection had still hurt. She would do her best to set those feelings aside for another day when she would be able to think more than hurt. For the moment, she chose to enjoy the fine day. That was all she would let matter right now. She enjoyed even more how it felt to lean against Rory’s back and cling to him as they rode across the glen between the stark mountains and on to the cairn.

Fairy cairn was as good an explanation as any for what had brought her to this place. Wormhole, time portal, what did it matter? The result was the same. It was a mysterious and exciting adventure. That fact alone would convince those at home that she was truly delusional, so her story would remain hers alone, never shared. Her time would be better spent concocting a more reasonable explanation for her absence. Then she would set about finding a new job—one without Tyler—so she could get on with her life.

By the time they arrived at the cairn, Lucy felt a slight pang at the thought of never seeing Rory again. No longer leaning against him, she felt cold. He always felt safe and warm. She felt foolish to get lost in such feelings. It was so unlike her.

She slid off the horse and into his arms, and he set her down gently. Poised for a goodbye but unwilling to say it, she looked into his calm brown eyes. Something passed between them in that gaze, and the words “what if” came to her mind.

His eyes shone. “Someday you will be a beautiful bride.”

She lifted her palms and looked down at her dress with a smirk. It was wilted and splattered with mud. “I might have to find a new dress.”

He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes prompted a twinge of regret. On an impulse, she hugged him. For a moment, they held one another. Her heart pounded until she was sure he would feel it. She lifted her eyes. Dark and open, his eyes drew her in. She could not look away even though she revealed too much simply by looking at him.

“I’ve got to go,” she whispered.

He lowered his arms to release her. She managed to go to the cairn, but she stopped at the entrance.

Just one more look.

Then she walked inside and went to the opposite wall. But that was all it was, just a wall. Rory waited outside. She leaned her forehead on the wall as she ran her fingers down the rocks. She would not be going home, not today. And that realization brought with it a measure of relief. Rory was outside waiting for her. She still had Rory, and he would keep her safe. She soon found herself in his embrace as if it were the most natural thing.

“I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t speak, so she gave a small nod.

If Rory had had

plans for the day, he changed them and spent the whole day with her. He described it as a distraction, but Lucy was pretty sure it was an eighteenth-century version of a pity date. But she welcomed the chance for an outing. After a brief introduction to his father, Rory took Lucy for a ride to some of his favorite places. She made a concerted effort to view her time there as a vacation rather than the place she would be stranded for the rest of her life. As a vacation spot, it couldn’t have been better. Every direction offered breathtaking beauty, from the bold hills jutting up to the silvery sky to the wide stretch of valley below, which Rory called a strath.

Rory helped Lucy dismount, then he tethered his horse and took Lucy’s hand to lead her the rest of the way to the top of the hill overlooking a loch. He spread out a blanket, and they sat for a meal of bread, cheese, and ale. It could not have been more perfect—unless they’d been back in her time. But that was the sort of idle dreaming she’d never indulged in before. This was no time to start.

She fixed her thoughts on more practical matters. “Are there certain conditions you’ve noticed in which the cairn works?”

Rory hesitated to answer. “I’ve only seen it twice, when I was a child and when I was with you.”

She lifted her chin, vaguely nodding. This was not what she’d wanted to hear.

He peered at her for a moment. “By the time I grew up, I’d given a good deal of thought to my journey through the fairy cairn. As a child, I thought what I’d seen were strange monsters. But as I thought more about it, I became certain it was some sort of passage through time. So when Margery died, I went to the cairn every day for weeks, hoping I might go back in time and change what had happened. I nearly drove myself mad. It never worked, needless to say.”

Lucy turned away. His defeated expression was painful to see.

His eyes brightened. “Still, it could happen again.”

“I suppose. I’m here, after all, so it can’t be impossible.”

“No.” He turned and looked frankly at her. “But I ken what I’ve seen, and I ken how I’ve struggled when the passage was closed to me. And now it appears to go only to the future, so I must let go of the past.”

Lucy nodded. He’d lost hope, yet he tried to keep her from doing the same. While the gesture was kind, it was not encouraging.

He peered straight into her eyes. “I promise to take you there every day until you tell me to stop.”

A grateful look was all she could manage, for he was willing to go day after day through an exercise he didn’t even believe in.

His eyes softened. “Dinnae lose heart, lass. There’s a saying here: It’s a lang road that’s not got a turnin’.”

“Okay.” She hesitated. “I have no idea what that means.”

He laughed. “It willnae be like this forever. Your journey is bound to take a turn for the better.”

Lucy’s eyes moistened. She wanted to believe him, but he’d left out the possibility that the road could take a turn for the worse.

Rory gave her an encouraging smile then began to pack up the remains of their meal. “Do you like racing?”

Surprised by the abrupt change of topics, Lucy shrugged. “What? Horses? I don’t know.”

“Well, we’re about to be in one.”

“On one horse?”

“Aye, it’s a race between us and those clouds to see who reaches home first. There’s a good chance they’ll win, so we’d best be off.”