by Ria Cantrell
~
Chapter Fifty-Five ~
Deirdre knocked on the bedroom door of her son. Since his return from Scotland, he had been mostly despondent. Something terrible had happened, but he would not speak of it. In fact, he did not speak much at all. He had left his position with Celtic Storm and he came back to his childhood home in California. Deirdre was at a loss as to what to do. He spent most of the time sleeping. She noticed he had started to drink a bit and that was not like him at all. He had never been a big drinker, but since his return, Tom had his fair share of alcohol. Deirdre wished he would talk to her but he would not. It was as if whatever it was that happened, he had been irreparably shattered. What in the world had occurred to harm her bright and jovial son?
It had been two weeks since she had gotten the call to pick him up from the airport and when she saw him, she almost thought she was looking at a different person. He had suffered some sort of shock and Deirdre wondered if it had to do with his natural mother. Perhaps he had found her after all, but that would not do this damage that she now saw. Something or someone had broken her son’s heart and she had to find out what or who had done such a thing.
Hearing no response from inside, Deirdre let herself into Tom’s room. He was lying in bed with the blankets wrapped about him like a cocoon. His face was unshaved and several days’ growth of beard darkened his jaw. He looked thinner, but it was a leanness that had come from working out. When she had picked him up, she noticed how defined his bicep muscles had become. When he lifted his luggage into the trunk of her car, she could see the strong roping through his forearms, like he had been lifting heavy weights. There had been a hollowness in his eyes; like someone had cut away his very soul.
Deirdre sat on the edge of his bed and she said, “Are you hungry? You really should eat something.”
Shielding his eyes from the light, he just said, “No thanks, mom. I’m just so tired. Could ye’ pull the blinds fer me?”
His speech sounded positively Scottish and Deirdre wondered if his short time in Scotland had caused him to assimilate the burr that was prevalent there. That was odd, too. As a nurse, Deirdre thought she should have him checked out because perhaps he had contracted a serious illness while he was abroad. As a mother, she knew that Tom’s sort of illness was one that came from the heart; not the physical heart-the emotional heart.
She said, “Can you tell me about her?”
Tom looked at the woman who had given her life to care for him and he wanted to talk to her. He really did, but he could not find the words. How would he explain what had happened? He said, “I can’t Mom. I just can’t.”
“Can you at least tell me if it has to do with your birth mother?”
“Mom, I did find her. You were right, but this has nothing to do with her.”
Deirdre’s heart sank at that admission. So long she thought the woman would come and take her son from her but as he had grown into a man, she never had. “Can you tell what has caused so much pain in your life right now? I mean really Tom, there must be something we can do to help.”
“I met someone. She was really special. I fell in love the moment I saw her.”
“Oh. And she broke your heart. I’m so sorry but maybe you can contact her and….”
“She’s dead, mom. She’s dead. Dear God, my beautiful Jenna is dead.”
Deirdre was horrified. “How did she--I mean what made her….”
“I dunna’ know. I just can’t talk about it now, please.”
Deirdre did not know what to say. Was her son somehow responsible for the girl’s death? That explained his near catatonic state. He was grieving and there was nothing he could do. He would just have to go through the process. Now at least, Deirdre understood. She leaned over and kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m so sorry. Go ahead and rest. Take as long as you need.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, pulling the covers up over his head again, and turning to face the wall. Deirdre let herself out of the room and shut the door behind her. Her poor son! Not only did he lose the first real girlfriend he had, but he had met his real mother. No wonder he was in shock. All his life, Deirdre had protected him. When she learned that he felt claustrophobic from having such bad asthma as a child, she made sure he was never left in a closed place for very long. She kept his bedroom light and airy and when he had moved to New York, she thought he must have overcome that fear because riding the subways would bring it out for sure. She had given him the opportunities to learn music and to sing. She had nurtured him from the day she had first found him in the hospital and now, there wasn’t a damned thing she could do for him, but she knew she could not let him suffer in silence. He needed to get help. Deirdre checked her watch. Hmm, it’s 2 p.m. here, that means it’s about 7 p.m. in Scotland. I think it’s time I gave Kiera a call.
~~~~~
When Kiera hung up the phone, she tried not to meet the eyes of her husband who had been quietly observing her. Things had been quite strained since she had gotten back and although they had not talked about it, it was palpable. Derek knew her so well. He did not say a word, but it was quite obvious that something had changed while Kiera had visited the past. She did not want to admit that she had seen the side of him that had gotten him into all the trouble which had landed him in a seven hundred year exile. Yet, every time she looked at him, she saw him pointing that blade at her throat and she felt sick to her stomach. While Derek looked at his wife, he tamped down any anger from his frustration he had been feeling. She had barely spoken to him since her return. Now, she was not even meeting his eyes. Thumping the book he was reading closed, he asked, “Who was that?”
“It was Tom’s mother, his adoptive mother.”
“Oh.”
“Look, I really need to fly home to the states. Tom is in bad shape and we need to do something to help him.”
“So yer’ leavin’ me again.”
“I-I need to bring Morag to California. She needs to meet with Deirdre. Deirdre seems to think that Tom is going to die or something. He’s been pretty distraught. You know, kind of how I was when….”
“When ye’ thought me to be dead?”
Kiera nodded. That memory flooded her and she felt a stab of guilt for her emotional separation from her husband. When she thought he had died, her world came crashing down around her. She never wanted to feel that way again. She needed to do something to fix what she had broken when she was back in time, but she really did not know how.
“But ye’ only just got back. I need ye’ with me.”
“I have to try to help. I understand what he is feeling.”
“Do ye’? Do ye’ really remember because it feels like ye’ do not. I feel ye’ removing yerself’ from me. I have felt it ever since ye’ have come back. We really need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Oh? Can ye’ explain why ye’ have nay loved me once since yer’ return?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“And just what do ye’ think it is that I’m thinkin’?”
Kiera’s eyes looked toward the floor. “You probably think I have been untrue to you.”
“And have ye’?”
“No.”
“T’is not what I think at all. Do ye’ think I do not know?”
“Know what,” Kiera asked defensively.
“Did ye’ think because it was so long ago that I would nay remember?”
Kiera’s eyes rose back to Derek’s and they were wide with surprise at his words.
“Do you remember?”
“Aye. It seems, ye may think I tried to kill ye’.”
“What?! You knew?”
“Of course I did. Do ye’ think me the same man ye’ met when ye’ were with Morag?”
“I don’t know. You were very angry.”
“Aye. And do ye’ recall nothing else, Mo anam cara? Did ye’ nay say those words to me?”
Kiera nodded; her eyes welling with tears. Mo anam cara; m
y soul mate. She had spoken them just before Morag had whisked her away. Derek stood and pulled her into his arms even if he thought she may resist him.
“Aye. Ye’ are my soul mate. I waited for you after that. All this time. Memories faded in and out. I sometimes thought I dreamed ye’. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt ye’.”
“You frightened me.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, too. I would never hurt ye’, love. Ye’ must believe me.”
“I do believe you.”
Derek kissed her deeply and Kiera felt herself melt into his arms. Yes, she still loved him after all.
“I’m sorry, Derek. I should not have gone to the tower that day. Morag warned me not to. I’m completely to blame for the turn of events.”
“But, Cara, do ye’ nay see? Even when the memory faded to just dreams, seein’ ye’ that day gave me hope. I knew that someday ye’ would unlock me from my prison of despair. I changed after that. I swear it. From that day, I never again raised a sword in anger against another person. It may have taken a long time, but I started to heal after that.”
Kiera’s eyes seemed luminous as she looked up into the beautiful face of her husband. “I gave you hope? Really?”
“Really. Do ye’ forgive me?”
Forgiveness; that’s what Morag said she needed in order to mend what had been broken between them. Of course she forgave him. He had always forgiven her for her judgment of him, how could she do any less?
Without answering him, Kiera jumped into Derek’s arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and he carried her to their big bed. She would show him how much she forgave him and then afterward, she would tell him of the other forgiveness that came from his sister, Brielle. As he kissed her, he knew he had to let her go to help her cousin. It was what she did. She helped people; even people she did not know. That was part of the reason why he loved her so much. For now he would give her something to remember to take with her when she got to the States. He grinned wickedly as he plopped her on their bed with thoughts on other things than forgiveness and redemption. Nay, right now he intended to show her just how sinful he could be.
~
Chapter Fifty-Six ~
Morag sat nervously beside Kiera. It was not so much that she was in one of those big silver birds screeching across the sky; that in of itself was daunting to a woman like her. It was more about what awaited her at the end of her destination. Kiera saw the old woman was looking very pale and she knew she probably was terrified. She patted her old arthritic hand and she said, “We will be landing soon. Don’t worry.”
“My old heart should nay have to endure these terrors,” she murmured.
“I know, but Tavish needs you now. Besides, it is not as terrifying as moving through space and time.”
Those words sank into the fear clouding her mind and Morag just said, “Aye, lass. I know. We need to get to him quickly. I just am so afraid of meeting….” Her voice trailed off.
Kiera understood. She said, “So, you see what sort of man Tavish has become. He is the way he is because of the people who raised him. My aunt Deirdre is a remarkable woman. She is kind and loving. She is a lot like you, dear one. Worry not. You will both find that you have something in common. You gave her Tavish or Tommy, as he is called here to care for and love and she has raised him in your place for you. Both of you are indebted to each other, don’t you think.”
Morag’s silvery eyes lit with relief and she nodded; her lips lifting in a craggy smile. “Ye’ are a wise lassie for one so young.”
“I feel like I have lived a thousand years these past few ones I have experienced.”
“I know ye’ have been through terrible times, but they are past now. Does the lad know about the bairn?”
Kiera smiled and blushed. She wasn’t surprised that Morag knew.
“No. I haven’t told him yet, but I will as soon as I get back to Scotland. I thought I was already pregnant when I traveled back in time with you. I wanted to be sure, but I had no morning sickness or anything back in the past. I suppose it was from the fresh air and wholesome food. Anyway, I’ll tell him just as soon as I can. Now, we need to just focus on helping Tavish.”
Morag’s expression again turned sad. “Aye and the lass. She is no better than he is, I fear.”
“No, I imagine she isn’t.” Kiera did not refer to Jenna as being in the past. For her now, the past and present were one.
Kiera leaned down and pulled up her purse. She had kept the folded letter Tom had given her just before they were all transported back to the present. She had carefully wrapped it in plastic to preserve it. Upon getting back, she found it to be badly compromised. It seemed that parchment from the Middle Ages did not transport well into the future. Still, it had his words penned upon it when he had decided to stay with Jenna. It was still legible, but Kiera had to assure that it would not disintegrate any further. Aunt Deirdre needed to see it.
When they finally arrived in California, they were greeted at the airport by her Uncle Dan. He looked tired and worried. Tom’s mental state had been a cause of concern for the good doctor and even with all his knowledge of medicine, he could not help his only son now. Kiera introduced Morag to the man that had raised her son. At first she thought there would be terrible tension but her father John and his brother Dan were very much alike. Danny embraced the frail old woman and he did not even question who she was. He had his ties to his ancient heritage and he understood that there were many things that even to this day, science could not explain.
Upon reaching the home of Daniel and Deirdre Callum, the visitors were shown into the comfortable house on the tree-lined street. Morag’s eyes darted here and there as she looked at the childhood home her son had grown up in. A small smile was ever present on her face. She murmured, “Aye, this was a good place for my son.”
Kiera took the liberties of making all the introductions. The two women who had been the mothers of her cousin met and they nervously acknowledged each other. Kiera asked about Tom and Deirdre explained that he had taken himself out to the beach. He said he needed to think and since he had rarely left the house after returning from Scotland, she thought the serenity of the ocean would be just what Tom needed to clear his head.
Deirdre showed her guests into the family room where she had a tray of muffins and tea waiting for them. She would now hear the long story of how Tom had come to be in a time many centuries from the one he had been born in. It was going to be a challenging discussion, Kiera knew, but if anyone could verify the truth of it, it would be her. After much explaining and many questions later, Deirdre had gotten very quiet. It was really mind boggling but with Kiera there, she knew she was not being bamboozled by some sort of scam artist.
The idea that her son was from another time was just astounding, but when Kiera explained that her own dear husband was as well, it gave the story merit. Deirdre knew that Kiera was not one to fabricate tall tales. In fact, she had always been more or less a realist. When every question was answered and all of what had been told had time to sink in, it was then that Kiera handed the preserved letter to Deirdre. As she read it, tears fell from her eyes. She understood everything from his words; the love he had found, the place where he belonged, and the love he intended to leave behind had he been able to stay in the past.
~~~~~
Tom sat at the water’s edge and he let the sound of the surf wash over him like the crashing waves. The sea was rough today. Tom watched as more than once, a large spray would form as the pounding water poured with great force on the nearby rocks. The day was unseasonably warm and a few adventurous kids were splashing about in the break near the shore. Tom almost envied their innocence and their joyful abandon in the simple pleasures of enjoying their time at the beach. When he heard their laughter, Tom wondered if he would ever laugh again.
To say that he felt empty was an understatement. Not to mention the overwhelming guilt that plagued his every waking moment as well as more than a few sleepi
ng ones! He had left Jenna after he had promised to stay with her. What had become of her? Did she hate him for breaking his word? Had they created a baby? Methods of birth control were quite limited in the fourteenth century. Had he left her pregnant and alone; forever tarnished and ruined by those medieval standards? Had he also abandoned a son or a daughter, not unlike Morag had done to him? Had he perpetuated a legacy that had been unwittingly thrust upon him by his abandonment by his birth mother?
And then there was the thought of how now, in this time, Jenna would be long gone. He felt the loss of her life as deeply as he had felt the loss of Caleb when they laid him to rest. He had so many questions. What sort of life did she have after he had gone? Had she ever been happy? Had she married? It was all too much and he honestly did not know how he would ever be able to put those nagging and brutal questions to rest. He was not a man to think about taking his own life, but at the moment, he felt like the emptiness was a gaping void and it seemed too stark a challenge to overcome. Still, he knew one thing.
He was here now. That had to mean something. He would make his purpose to remember Jenna. When he got back home, he would call Kiera and ask if she could send him the painting. He would pay for it at any cost. It may have been done in her likeness, but Tom suspected that it was finished with the “real” Jenna sitting for it. It was Jenna’s eyes that had called him back that first time.
Tom thought, maybe, just maybe it would again and this time, he would not be foolish enough to go anywhere near those blasted standing stones. Full moon or no full moon! With that decision ringing in his brain, Tom felt a sense of hope for the first time since his return. He was Morag’s son, after all. If he had gone back once, perhaps he could again. Yes, that had to be it. He would find a way to get back. He would make it his life’s purpose if it took him the rest of his cursed years upon the earth.
Tom’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screams coming from where the kids had been splashing. He scanned the horizon for signs of adults who should have been supervising the kids and he found none. Tom stood up and began to run toward the children. As he got closer he could see they were younger than teens, but older than little kids. One of the boys was yelling that his sister had been caught in the undertow. Without thinking, Tom shucked his jeans and peeled off his sweatshirt. Tossing off his sneakers, he dove into the crashing waves and swam out. He could feel the force of the water and the current was unnaturally strong. The head of the little girl bobbed in and out of the sea and Tom knew he had to get to her. She would surely drown if he did not reach her soon. The water was frigid.