Connor sat down on a bench, as did the man. Stuart was his name.
“Harry has a crumbling castle in Northern England. The place is incredibly expensive to maintain. He said you could live in the caretaker’s cottage and teach your sword and dagger classes on the estate. It would help my cousin, and you’d make a great deal of money—in fact, you could charge double or triple, and the people could stay in the intact wing of the castle. Say the word and I’ll let him know.”
’Twas a generous offer. “I will think on it.”
Stuart shook his hand. “You’ve got my card. Let me know when you decide.”
With the change of the seasons, Connor was restless. He woke to see the full moon shining down on the water. Matt, the guide, had given him a small room next to his at the fort until he found a place to live.
He walked along the fort, thinking. Why did he not go to England and make a life? Or go to Scotland and see his homeland? Settle there and start over.
Nay, he needs try one last time to go back to his own time. A baseball hat and baggy clothes would aid in his disguise. He put on his helmet and rode his motorcycle to the museum. The wife of one of his students left him for another, and he was hiding his money. He offered Connor the motorbike in exchange for classes. It went verra fast—if he could get back, he would miss the bike.
“We close in twenty minutes,” the woman at the desk said.
Connor dropped money into the box on her desk. “I willna be long.”
She told him how to get to the medieval gallery. No one else was there as he wandered from weapon to weapon, reading the stories, feeling disconnected from his old life and this time.
The case with the daggers and sword he had taken were in the center of the room. He placed his hands on the glass, and a buzzing noise sounded. The guard stuck his head in.
“You can’t touch the cases.”
Connor took a step back. “Apologies. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
The guard went on his way, and Connor stood as close to the case as he could without touching it. He had three pennies left in the pocket of his jeans. He’d detoured to the mermaid fountain and made another wish before coming here.
He put the pennies on top of the case and closed his eyes. Mayhap the spirits would take pity on him.
But when he opened them, he was still standing there and a bell was sounding, followed by a voice saying the museum would close in five minutes.
Seemed neither of his wishes would come to pass. With a sigh, he left. ’Twas time to go home. If not back in time, then to Scotland in this time.
THIRTY
As the leaves changed colors, the days grew shorter, and the nights turned chilly, Mellie worked on her Everyday Moments series. It was after midnight one weekend when she stretched out the kinks in her shoulders and back and smiled at the pieces in front of her.
The women in their houses might not ever be perfect, but they were as good as they could be at this moment in time. And right now, that was enough.
Wednesdays were open call at the gallery. She’d had a car pick her up at the apartment and carefully loaded three of her best pieces into the trunk, wiping her hands on her pants.
The woman behind the desk was dressed in black, with sleek hair pulled back and perfect makeup.
“I’m Melissa Evers. I have an appointment with Mr. Winston.”
The woman consulted the leather-bound book in front of her. “Please follow me.”
Mellie rolled the suitcase along, listening to the woman’s heels click-clack on the marble floors, the red soles flashing with every step. The woman opened a door to a conference room with glass walls.
“You can set up here. Mr. Winston will be in shortly.” She paused at the door. “There’s water on the table. Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” Mellie’s hand trembled as she poured a glass of sparkling water, not daring to drink straight out of the bottle.
Under the lights in the conference room, the pieces seemed to glow from within. She’d brought the garden scene, the one with the woman drinking a glass of wine in a bubble bath, and the one of the woman curled up in a chair, a cat on her lap, reading a book.
The door opened, and Mr. Winston smiled at her. He looked exactly like she’d picture the owner of a gallery, with his impeccable suit and tie and dark shoes. His hair was silver, and he had lively green eyes.
“Welcome, Miss Evers. Tell me about your work.”
Mellie spent the next twenty minutes telling him about Everyday Moments. When she finished, she wiped her hands on her pants and waited, heart beating so fast she prayed she wouldn’t have a heart attack and die before finding out what he thought of her work.
Mr. Winston peered inside each house from every angle. When he straightened up, he was smiling.
“Your work is delightful and whimsical, fresh and cozy—something I believe will resonate with our patrons in this difficult political and economic climate.”
She blinked, not sure she’d heard him correctly.
“Normally I’d take one piece and see how it did, but we have a Whimsy exhibit opening the end of October, and one of my artists had a death in the family. Of course, our condolences go out to him, but as he won’t be showing, I find I’m in a rather difficult position.”
Mellie hardly dared to breathe.
“I’d like to offer you his place. However, we’re setting up this weekend, so I’d require thirteen pieces by Friday afternoon. My last appointment, he created amazing tableaus in small acrylic boxes, but he didn’t have inventory. What do you say, Miss Evers?”
Her breath whooshed out. “Please call me Mellie. And I say yes. I have enough work ready. I’ll bring the pieces tomorrow. Shall I leave these three?”
“Please.” He held out a hand. “Welcome to Winston’s.”
Mellie had invited Amy and Claire over to watch movies and had confessed her secret, showing her friends the secret room. A couple of times she’d had to wipe tears away. They were so supportive, and Mellie offered them each a house, delighted when they picked the same pieces she would have for them.
Claire chose the white house with the woman hanging laundry outside, saying it reminded her of spending summers with her grandmother.
The house with the woman staring out the window, dressed in sweats with her toes painted lime green, was the one Amy picked.
“I knew you’d pick that one,” Mellie said. “You always have your toes painted the brightest colors.”
They thanked her, and for the first time Mellie left the door to her studio wide open. They’d decided on Gone with the Wind. Popcorn and other munchies on the table in front of them, Claire poured the wine. All three of them were in comfy clothes, and no one had mentioned Connor or Greg.
As the movie ended, Mellie sat up with a jolt, her popcorn flying in the air.
“I’m like Scarlett. I don’t want Ashley. I want Rhett. Is it too late?”
Claire held up her glass. “About time you figured out Connor was the one.”
“Go get him, Scarlett.” Amy touched her glass to theirs.
“Now, tell us everything.” Claire sat cross-legged. “We’ve been dying to know.”
“But we weren’t sure if you were ready to talk about them,” Amy added. “And we want to hear all about your art and the show. How could you keep something so amazing from us all this time?”
“Give me a tissue.” Mellie sniffed. “I’m so lucky to have you both.” She clinked glasses. “To the best friends a girl could ask for.”
“Friends forever.”
With a laugh, Mellie leaned forward. “So when Greg kissed me…”
All the houses were at the gallery, and Mellie couldn’t wait for the show to open. She practically skipped down the street to Honeysuckle Park to find Connor. She’d explain everything, tell him he was the one for her and she’d been stupid not to realize it. Then she’d beg him to kiss her, remembering what he said to her when she’d proposed the whole fake boyfriend
thing back in the summer.
Mellie had tried to call him, but he’d had the phone disconnected and didn’t have the recording that told the new number. Given the phone was on her plan, it was nice of him so she didn’t have to pay for his phone when they’d broken up.
She looked all over the park, but Connor was nowhere to be found. Near the mermaid fountain, three guys were halfheartedly practicing with swords.
“Hey. I’m looking for Connor, have you seen him?”
One of the guys knelt down to tie his shoe. “He left. Went back to Scotland.”
“When did he leave?”
“Few days ago.”
The clouds blotted out the sun—no, it was just her happy mood swirling down the drain. She was too late. And now she’d lost him forever.
THIRTY-ONE
Once Connor had accepted he could not travel back to his own time, the decision was simple. He was going to Scotland, and then he’d go to England and teach men to use swords. In time, he would forget her smile.
He was looking forward to flying in a machine. Such wonders in this time. Mayhap he would learn to fly his own plane. The motorcycle had been sold; ’twas too expensive to take with him. When he was settled, he’d buy another.
On the way to the airport, Connor stared out the window. At a stoplight, he looked across the street. The light changed and the cab pulled forward.
“Nay. Stop, man.”
The cabbie pulled over. Connor thrust money through the window and leapt out of the car, bags in hand. The store was having a party, and on the sign in the window he’d seen a house he recognized. Mellie’s women.
Pride surged through him. She’d found the courage to show her beautiful work to others. Connor went inside, handing his bags to a woman in black.
“See to these.”
“Of course, sir.” She stowed them behind a desk and he ignored the rest of the work, making his way to the center of the room, where three of her houses waited.
He strode through the place, looking for one house in particular. When he had not found it, he stopped a man in black.
“May I be of assistance?
“Aye. Where is the house with the garden?”
“Follow me, sir.”
The house was in the front. He’d been so focused on her that he’d walked right by it.
“I’ll take it.”
The man’s smile faltered. “Wouldn’t you like to look at the work?”
He shook his head. “Nay. I want the piece.”
“Do you wish to know the price?”
Connor frowned. “Do ye want to sell it to me or not?”
Another man joined them. “I’ll take care of this, Louis, thank you.” This was the man in charge. “Are you familiar with Miss Evers’ work?”
“Aye. She creates great beauty.”
The man handed him a glass of champagne. Connor liked how the bubbles tickled his nose.
“She is very talented. We hope to have her as a permanent artist.” The man held out a red dot. “Would you care to do the honors?”
At Connor’s bewildered look, the man smiled. “Green dots signify the work is available, and red is for when a piece sells. Yes, it’s very pretentious, but I find the gallery makes more money this way.”
Connor stuck the red dot over the green. “I wish to meet the artist.”
“Of course. She’s here tonight.”
He paid for the piece, and then the man led him to a far corner of the gallery.
“Melissa. You’ve sold another piece. The buyer would like to meet you.” He turned to Connor. “Mr.…?”
“Connor.”
She gasped. “I thought you went back to Scotland.”
The owner smiled. “I’ll leave you both to talk.”
“I needs beg yer pardon,” Connor said.
“I’m sorry,” she said at the same time.
Connor inclined his head. “You first.” She was so bonny in her dress with the color high in her cheeks. She was his home, not Scotland. Her.
“There are so many things I want to say. I was over Greg, and I just didn’t realize it. It took me watching Gone with the Wind for it to sink in. I liked the idea of him, but not the man, and then I knew. Greg was a copout. I didn’t feel much with him. Nothing like you. You made me feel everything, and it scared me. I’m sorry for how I acted. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgave ye long ago, Mellie.” He drained the rest of the glass.
“Do you think…we could start over?”
“Nay.” And he laughed when she frowned. “I want you as you are, with all that has happened. You are my home, if you’ll have me.”
“Yes.” She threw her arms around him, and the scent of roses filled the air. But Connor stepped back.
“First, I must tell you the truth.” He looked around. “I do not wish others to hear what I must tell you.”
“Then we’ll leave. The gallery is closing soon anyway. Give me a few minutes.”
Connor used his phone to send for a car. A person could do almost anything with the small device and gold.
The driver loaded his bags and the house into the back. Connor told the driver where he wished to go. When Mellie came out, he held the door for her.
The driver stopped at the park. Connor led the way to the mermaid fountain, where he sat and pulled her down next to him.
He would rather face a hundred men in battle than tell her the truth, but he could not make her his without telling her. If she did not believe him, he would take the next plane to Scotland and never look back.
Mellie took his hands in hers. “Whatever you have to say, tell me.”
“The day we met…when I woke that morn, ’twas in Scotland in the Year of Our Lord 1334.”
She was silent for too long.
“Mellie?”
“How?” She paced back and forth.
He leaned his elbows on his knees, watching her. “I am not certain. There was a battle and a storm.” He swallowed, remembering the terror he’d felt. “The ground swallowed me, and when I came to, ’twas in the museum.”
“You never lost your memory, did you?”
“Nay, I was afeared…you would send me back. And I will not go back. I would rather die.”
Mellie sat on the edge of the fountain. He got up and sat beside her.
“I am a horrible person. You tried to tell me, several times, and I let them take you away. Put you in a psychiatric hospital.” Horror filled her golden eyes. “So many things make sense. The way you acted like you’d never seen planes, cars, phones, or pizza.”
Mellie wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. What he’d been through at Mint Hill was all her fault. She could have prevented it. Instead she’d called him a thief and a crazy person. A thousand small details came to mind, and she knew deep in her heart he was telling her the truth.
“Nay. You are kind and good.”
She turned to him, tears in her eyes. “I’m so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, and she wanted to turn back time and prevent him from being sent away.
“You will not send me back?”
“Never. I believe you.”
When she said the words, he pressed his lips to hers. This time she was the one who touched her tongue to his lips. He opened his mouth, and she let her kiss tell him how sorry she was, how much she loved him.
When they broke apart, he was wearing that male look of satisfaction.
“I knew you would beg me to kiss you.”
She smacked his shoulder. “I did nothing of the sort, Connor McTavish.” Mellie clapped her hands together. “There’s so much I want to know.”
The opportunity to have a living, breathing man from the past was too good to pass up. She needed to find out everything he knew. What might be different from the history books?
“No wonder you’re so good with a blade.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
Mellie had one more thing she needed to know as she trailed her hand through the cold water. “What did you wish the last time we were here?”
Connor kissed her again. “To love you forever here or in my time. Did not matter to me where, as long as you were by my side.” He knelt at her feet.
“You are my life. Without you, life isn’t worth living. I would defy death to stay with you. My love for you is beyond the boundaries of time.”
She wiped the tears from her face, her throat tight. “I wished you would stay with me always.” Mellie dug in her purse and handed him three pennies. Then she took his hand. “Together.” They tossed the coins in.
“Come home.” She held out her hand.
THIRTY-TWO
One Year Later
The museum was closed to the public for a wedding. Aunt Jilly opened the door.
“You are so beautiful. Are you ready?”
Mellie hugged her mom. “I am.”
Her dad was waiting outside, and took her arm. “My baby is all grown up.”
“Don’t make me cry, Dad. You’ll mess up my makeup.”
He patted her arm. “You can cry after.”
The music played, and he walked her down the corridor to the medieval gallery, where Connor waited.
Her family had come around, though she and Connor had decided they’d stick to the memory-loss story. It was a bit much to ask her family to believe he was from the fourteenth century. In time they’d tell them, maybe when they had their first child.
Her brothers had threatened to kill Connor if he hurt her again, though they looked a bit ill when they made the threats.
He took it in stride. When he’d told her about the offer to teach his workshops in England and on the grounds of a castle, she’d squealed. So Connor had called the guy and made arrangements for them to live in one of the towers. He would see it repaired in exchange for them living there. Mellie would set up the bed and breakfast in the intact wing of the castle and create more of her women.
Beyond Time: A Knights Through Time Travel Romance Page 14