Like Kieran. She'd been ready to peg him as some arrogant, controlling asshole… but then he went and turned around and did something like the heroic rescue that she was reluctantly admitting had happened at exactly the right moment to spare her considerable grief. As an experiment, she'd stopped to dip her fingers into the river water — it had been icy cold, and she'd shivered, knowing for a fact that she'd have been in serious trouble had she tried to swim through that, even if she'd safely made it to the other side. Without a dry change of clothes or anywhere warm to dry off… no, it was better not to think about it. She was safe now, that was what was important… and it was Kieran she had to thank. Platonically, of course. Just a friend doing a favor for a friend, right?
God, she'd have to figure out some way of repaying him, or it was going to drive her crazy.
"Go on, then," she said as they ate in companionable silence, tucking into the cheese and bread with considerable enthusiasm. She'd been pretty hungry, she realized — it had been a long time since her sad little walking lunch on the road, and with all the night's exertions, it felt good to fill her belly.
Kieran surprised her, too, by withdrawing a wineskin from what she was beginning to realize was a pack filled mostly with food. They didn't have any glasses for it, but they made do drinking from the neck of the skin. No need to be fancy here.
"Tell me about her. Tell me about my great-great-great grandmother, or whatever. Is that how it works?" she added, frowning as the thought occurred to her. "Is she my grandmother, or … or am I my own grandmother, somehow?"
"I'm not sure," Kieran said softly. "I'll admit I've given it a great deal of thought over the last few years, ever since I made the connection with all the MacClaran women going missing and realized that it might be possible that Emily was on her way back to me too. In a manner of speaking," he added, giving her a rueful little smile.
She was glad he was making a point of recognizing that she was a different person to his lost wife. It made their friendship feel much less creepy… even if she still had some lingering worries about it.
"So? What's your theory?"
"I suppose… well, take Helena and my cousin Brendan. He lost his lady wife — Anna — some years ago, and when Helena returned from the future to take her place as the curse dictated, the two of them fell in love."
He seemed to be skimming over that point rather quickly, and she busied herself with a piece of cheese. If he felt uncomfortable, she wasn't going to make it any worse… though she had to admit, she was curious.
"Their children will now carry on the MacClaran line… all the way down to Helena's birth, in fact," he said with a smile. "You see?"
"So, I literally am going to be my own grandmother," she said drily. "That's — interesting. And there are a lot of flaws in it, Kieran. I mean, what if I never have children?"
He tilted his head, frowning. "Why wouldn't you have children?"
That needled her a little… and she drew on the gratitude that was still fresh from her rescue to calm herself down. "A thousand reasons. Maybe I don't want them. Maybe I can't have them. Maybe I've got other things going on in my life than tending some squalling brat. Maybe I don't want to carry them inside me. Maybe there are other ways of being a parent, of contributing to the next generation and the future —"
"Alright, alright," Kieran said quickly, raising his hands, and she realized her voice had been rising.
Scarlet cleared her throat, feeling a little sheepish.
"Sorry. Of course. You may not have children, and fair enough."
"So — what happens then? If I'm back here to replace my great-great-whatever grandmother, but I don't have children, then there's nobody to have my great grandmother, and therefore nobody to have my grandmother, and therefore -"
"I see what you're saying," Kieran said, a little impatiently. "But — I mean, it's magic, Scarlet. It doesn't have to work quite so… logically."
"So how am I here if I never had children?"
"Audrina has children," he said, raising one finger. "And Cora, she and Ian have the twins. Marianne and Eamon have a daughter. Delilah and Gavin recently welcomed their first, too —"
"I'm very happy for all of these strangers," Scarlet said impatiently, "but that doesn't answer my question. What about me? What about my bloodline?"
"I'm saying — you're a MacClaran, Scarlet. At least, you were born one — in a way. It's — I'm not explaining this very well," he said ruefully, shaking his head. "And I'm far from an expert on magic, at any rate. I'm just a man who thinks too much. But I think — as long as the MacClaran bloodline exists, this magic will keep working. You might not be a descendant of — of yourself — " he frowned a little — " — but you are a descendant of… of all of us."
She mulled over that for a long moment, taking a steadying sip of the wine in the hopes that that might help. It didn't, but that was to be expected. "It's magic," she said finally, looking up at Kieran and shaking her head. "Let's just call it magic and be done with it. It gets creepy, otherwise."
"Aye, fair enough," he acknowledged, toasting her with a piece of bread. "I'd prefer not to consider the two of us related, at any rate."
"And why's that?" she challenged him, raising an eyebrow. "Would it make you feel old to be having supper with your great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter, or —"
He laughed, eyes glinting with merriment as he swallowed his mouthful of bread. "Aye, I suppose so. Let's call it that," he said, an odd little smile on his face as he lowered his attention to the next piece of bread. Scarlet realized, after more time had passed than she was proud of, that he might have had another reason for not wanting the two of them to be related, and she blushed… but it was too late to bring up that particularly flirtatious line of enquiry. At any rate, it was getting late, and both of them were clearly exhausted — Kieran confided that he'd been up since dawn, scouring the village for any sign of her, confirming his suspicions that she'd gone traveling.
"That's very sweet," she said, half teasing him, half serious. "You worry a lot about a woman you've just met."
"Well, we're family, aren't we?" he joked.
"I think we just established we're not," she said archly, dusting the crumbs from the front of her tunic. She'd been about to continue when a yawn came over her with a surprising suddenness, and when it had passed, Kieran was grinning at her.
"I think it's time for bed."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," she admitted, rubbing her eyes. "Sprinting for your life through the woods in the middle of the night really does take it out of you."
"So does polishing off most of a wineskin," he said wryly, raising an eyebrow. "You really can drink, Scarlet Adams."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said primly, reaching out for her rucksack. "What's the plan? We're sleeping on the floor?"
He hesitated. "Aye, I'm afraid that's all we can do. I wanted to bring a bedroll, but I couldn't find one at short notice, and —" But he stopped, looking at her curiously. She'd already rolled up her clothing into a rough cylinder and set it on the ground, punching it a few times to even out the lumps, and she'd dug her cloak out of her bag to serve as a blanket. "Have you done this before?"
"Oh, yeah. I can sleep anywhere." She hesitated, realizing she was inching a little too close to revealing things she'd rather keep to herself… at least for now. "Uh, I used to do a lot of camping with my dad."
"Camping. Right." He shook his head, smiling at her. "Goodnight, Scarlet."
She didn't miss the careful way he set up to sleep on the other side of the fire from her, a very gentlemanly distance away that threatened to make her giggle — it was such an extreme distance that he may as well have set up to sleep in the river outside. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and settled down by the fire, meaning to say something aloud to tease him — but before she could, a great wave of sleepiness thundered over her. The exertions, the wine, the late hour… it all came down on her like the blow of
a great hammer, and she was asleep almost in the same moment as her head hit her makeshift pillow.
To her gratitude, she slept the night through as peaceful as the grave — not a single dream or vision disturbed her, and when the sun began to creep through the boathouse's little door, she stirred blearily from her sleep and began to sit upright. Kieran was still fast asleep, his face turned toward her, a lock of his blond hair falling into his closed eyes. In his sleep, he looked… she shifted a little to get a closer look, her half-asleep attention arrested by his face. He looked downright angelic if she was honest. Gone was the guarded expression, the tight lip, the tense jaw. This was the man she liked, the man she was pleased to be friends with again…
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the rising sun disturbed him, too, and she turned away quickly as he stirred in his sleep, not wanting him to catch her peering down at him for some reason. Because it was creepy, she told herself firmly, waking up and seeing someone staring at you. That was all. Nothing else to it. Just — just trying to be respectful of her new friend, that was all. She pretended to be fiddling about with the clothes that had made up her pillow, folding them carefully to tuck them back into her rucksack, and when he wished her good morning in a hoarse, sleep-addled voice she turned, affecting surprise.
"Oh! Good morning, Kieran." And the Oscar goes to… she couldn't help but laugh at herself a little. Clearly, she'd woken up in a funny mood. Why was she so nervous around him? "Did you sleep well?"
"Like a log," he admitted with a smile. "Hope my snoring didn't disturb you."
"Didn't hear it," she said brightly. "Slept like a rock myself."
"Aye, you were out like a light," he said, eyes dancing. "I suppose we have that in common. The snoring, I mean."
"I don't snore," she said firmly.
"Oh, my mistake," he said idly, examining his nails. "I suppose it was a wild creature that crept into the boathouse in the night and proceeded to choke to death on its own toenails for an hour solid —"
"How dare you!" She was torn between laughter and fury, and settled for a mixture of the two, reaching into the pocket of her shirt and flinging a piece of dried meat at him. Her aim was good — it hit him square on the forehead, and she giggled at the lock of shock on his face.
"Oh, you'd attack a man who's barely out of bed, would you?" he said, his expression thunderous — though the twinkle in his blue-green eyes told her they were playing. "I'll have you know I'm a dangerous man."
"And I'm a dangerous woman," she retorted, folding her arms across her chest. "You've no idea what I'm capable of."
"Aye, I suppose I don't." And then he was back to his usual, cheerful self, that smile dancing across his lips that made her chest feel strange and tight and warm, though not in an entirely unpleasant way. "Maybe you can tell me a little about it, on the road."
"The road?" She tilted her head curiously, realizing as she did that, she had no idea what was happening next. She'd been living from moment to moment for the past twelve hours — it seemed strange to think about any future more distant than a minute or two.
"The road back to the Keep," Kieran said firmly. "It's about time you met the others."
Ah, yes. The others. Scarlet felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. The cop and the army woman. Just the kinds of people she wanted to see when she was doing so much work to keep her checkered past secret from Kieran…
But what choice did she have?
Chapter 18
The day was overcast and cloudy, not nearly as fine as the day before had been… but traveling at Kieran's side was a great deal more cheerful than her own solo voyage, beset as it had been by worry about going the wrong way, about getting lost, about what exactly it was she was going to do when she reached the Manor. She was still a little worried, as they walked, that Lord Weatherby would track them down, somehow, that he'd have grown angry at her escape and sent men to claim her… but as they walked and the day wore on, she became more convinced that she'd escaped.
The horse trundled along behind them, happy enough to carry their packs — but Kieran had explained, when she wondered aloud why they didn't simply jump on and ride the rest of the way to the Keep, that the horse wouldn't happily support two riders and two packs. The thought of horses having an upper limit of weight they carried simply hadn't occurred to her. The more time she spent out here, the more she realized that her knowledge had quite a few blind spots in it… especially when it came to country matters. Kieran, to his credit, didn't make fun of her at all for how little she knew about horses, even introducing her gently to the creature when she confessed that she'd never even touched one.
"She's very sweet," he explained with a smile. "Some horses are spirited, some are nasty, some will give you a bite… but Shadow here is soft as butter."
Sure enough, the horse snuffled at her hand when she extended it cautiously in greeting, then closed her eyes lazily when she ventured, at Kieran's prodding, to stroke her nose. It was unbelievably soft, and she felt a smile spreading across her face as she stroked the horse with more confidence. No wonder so many young girls got so obsessed with horses, she thought, marveling at the mare's sleek coat, the powerful muscles that lay beneath it. Maybe it wasn't too late for her to become a mad horse girl. Maybe she could retire from her life of crime and raise horses… or even better, learn to ride one and become a highwaywoman. She grinned to herself.
"She likes you," Kieran said softly, clearly thinking that she was smiling about the horse and not about her secret plan to become a masked bandit on the road.
She fought the urge to laugh aloud, simply nodding as she stroked the horse. "I like her. I see the appeal," she said, grinning at him.
"They're not pets," he warned her. "Some people spoil them rotten, but I like to remind people that they're workers first."
"And how much do you pay your workers?" she enquired sweetly, reaching into her pocket for a leftover apple that she hadn't eaten on the road. The mare's eyes gleamed when she saw it. "Nowhere near what they're worth, I'd bet."
"Aye, you might have a point there," Kieran admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "Free room and board for life sounds like a pretty good deal for me, in return for carrying a few bags through the fresh country air…"
"Maybe," she said neutrally, offering the apple to the horse, who plucked it delicately from her palm and crunched it up with her enormous teeth, eyes sliding shut lazily in enjoyment. She was a very efficient eater — the apple was gone without a trace within thirty seconds, and she looked at Scarlet curiously, as though expecting more. "I'm all out, darling!" she laughed, stroking her nose apologetically.
"There, see? You'll be a slave to the beast in days," Kieran said disgruntledly, but she could see the smile dancing on his face as he patted the horse's shoulder affectionately. "Come on, you great spoiled oaf. We need to make the castle by sunset or Fiona will tell me off for dragging my feet."
"Which one is Fiona again?" she asked as they set off walking again.
"Laird Donal's wife. The inventor," he added, rolling his eyes. "She's always installing bizarre things in the castle and complaining that they're not as good as whatever futuristic nonsense she's trying to replicate. Can you believe she's trying to set up a series of pipes to run water through the whole castle? Sounds like a recipe for disaster."
"That's what we've got in the future," Scarlet said with a shrug. "Running water in just about every room. Turn on your kitchen sink, water. Turn on your shower, water. Whatever temperature you like." She sighed. "Taking baths in a bucket of water sucks, dude. Sorry, but it sucks." She had not at all enjoyed the so-called 'baths' she'd taken at the inn. The woman who'd brought her up a steaming bucket of water had clearly meant well, but standing there like an idiot, gingerly rubbing at her grimy body with a wet cloth? It had lacked a certain something. She was no high-maintenance diva when it came to accommodations, of course — she'd slept in some truly awful motels on the road with her father, for example — but
a hot shower… that was bare minimum, wasn't it? God, she might never have a hot shower again.
"I can only imagine," Kieran said, shaking his head. "Tell me more about the future."
"What do you want to know?" She bit her lip, a thought occurring to her. "It's not going to like… ruin the timeline, is it? I've seen Back to the Future, I know how bad things can get."
Kieran was looking at her, absolutely mystified, and she backtracked.
"I mean — things are probably supposed to happen in a certain order, right? Me knowing stuff about the future, telling you about it… won't that, you know, mess things up?"
He looked thoughtful. "I think I see what you mean. A little like the situation with Emily, with your ancestor."
"Right! A time paradox. At least, I think that's what it's called." She wrinkled her nose. "My dad was super into all of that speculative fiction gear, but I could never follow it. He was a nerd," she said sagely. "I guess you need to be a nerd to care about that stuff."
"Time paradox," Kieran echoed, looking a little befuddled by the rest of the language she'd used, but clearly trying his best. "Well — I'd imagine that if your bringing information back from the future to the past was going to cause any problems, that would have well and truly happened already. I mean… the impact you time traveling women have had on our area alone has been staggering. Karin got us through a plague, Audrina and Cora's medical insights have saved more lives than I can count, there was everything Brianna did for Lord Weatherby and those refugees… oh, not to mention Delilah breaking the curse, too."
She felt a bit deflated. "So — everyone who came back's a hero, huh?"
Highlander Guarded: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 10) Page 12