She watched the world pass by. Her hand gripped the handle on the door. “Nay…well, only when I searched for them.”
“What about my gift? Do you have to concentrate on it for it to be there?”
“Aye…nay.”
“Which is it?”
“I need to think on it now, out here. At the manor, I don’t think about it. It’s just there. When I feel burdened by the thoughts of others, I bring up your shield.”
“Our shield.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
He wove through traffic; his destination embedded in his mind.
“I don’t have to think about your gift. I sense others, their feelings. I thought it might be important for both of us to experience life outside the manor for a couple of hours. It’s hard to judge other’s true feelings when you trust those around you the way we do.”
“I trust my family,” she told him.
“Trust is important in the manor. Always.”
“Throughout time?”
He moved off the highway and toward his destination. “If someone isn’t trustworthy, they’re banished. There are few exceptions.”
“With the gifts of perceptions and premonitions, it would be very difficult to deceive the occupants.”
He nodded. “In my time? Yeah, that’s true. Not in this time. It’s something Simon and Helen need to fortify.”
“Why Simon and Helen? Why not us?”
He glanced at her. “I’m not sure we’re meant to fortify the future of the manor, are you?”
“I’d ask my mother if she were here. But nay, I don’t know if we’re meant to stay in this time.”
He wanted to ask if her desire was to stay here now, but he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer.
Kincaid pulled into the parking lot and ignored the stares of those as they exited the sporty car.
Amber moved close to his side and watched the mass of people as they walked by them.
“I have you,” he whispered in her ear.
The tight smile on her face had him squeezing her hand. He ushered Amber inside the high-end mall and guided her into a jewelry store.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
He pulled her closer. “We’re married, Amber. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re not taken.”
She turned toward him. “I’m not around anyone who doesn’t know of our status.”
Kincaid shrugged. “Humor me.”
She did.
They picked out a diamond-studded band that Amber insisted reminded her of her mother’s. He in turn, placed a titanium band on his finger before they left the store.
Amber’s anxiety hovered like a mist. Unlike any other woman who might enjoy a shopping trip, she kept pace with him for a speedy exit. The threat of so many people around her sent a cold sweat over him.
“Should we find a quiet place to eat?” he asked.
“The manor?”
He shook his head. “I was thinking a restaurant.”
She glanced at those coming and going from the mall. Is it safe?
I wouldn’t take you if it wasn’t.
Inside the car, Amber followed his lead, buckled her belt, and sat back with a heavy sigh. “I keep waiting for everyone to crush in.”
He covered her hand with his. “I know you do. Just think of my shield, see the blue color grow solid, and know it will hold. It’s never failed me.”
The car started to shudder as if it were in quicksand. “Okay, perhaps a little less would help us actually move,” he told her.
Amber’s brow pitched together. “Is that me?”
“Just pull it back to reach only inside the car.”
The thick band around the car eased in slow degrees. Distraction. She needs a distraction.
“So…” he began, “Jake and Selma?” He could care less about the gossip of the two in question, but the car instantly surged forward when Amber thought of the couple and released his shield from around the car.
“I should have seen that coming,” she told him as he pulled the car into traffic en route to the restaurant.
“You didn’t?”
Amber shook her head. “When I met Selma and Jake, everyone’s emotions were rampant in my head. Concentrating on any one person was difficult.”
“He cares for her.”
“Agreed. She has no idea how much,” she told him.
“Agreed.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “It’s not easy for the others,” he said. “The ones who join us and aren’t Druid.”
She stared at the passing traffic and a sense of peace washed over him.
“I was a child when Todd joined us. Myra’s husband is from this time—Jake’s brother in arms. He adjusted eventually.”
“There are plenty of Todd’s out there. Men and women who join the manor and keep order. Not everyone picks a spouse who shares his or her Druid heritage. Those of us who do understand the risk or the gain.”
“You make it sound as if the manor is filled with people from all walks of life in your future.”
“It is. Though the manor is larger than it is now. The houses surrounding Mrs. Dawson’s home become sanctuaries for families who attempt to raise their children in relative normalcy.”
“Not unlike my parent’s home.”
He laughed. It was hard not to. “MacCoinnich Keep is much more than a home.”
Amber shrugged, looked out the window. “For me it was home. Nothing more or less than Dawson Manor. I kept up with the cats in the barn, knew when they were giving birth. Those who roamed the halls—the maids, the cooks, the knights—all were essential in the movement and protection of my childhood home. But it was still my home.”
The thought sobered Kincaid as he parked in the lot and jumped out to help Amber.
His wife had grown up the youngest child in a medieval Keep…during medieval times. She had family members who had crossed centuries and would again to keep her from harm. He however, grew up with menial financial means in a single room apartment with strangers. Growing up, even his own father was nothing more than an unapproachable enigma. Kincaid had leapt at the opportunity to belong to something, anything.
The host sat them at a table in the back of the restaurant where Amber picked up the conversation from the car.
“Where is it you grew up?” she asked.
“Outside the manor,” he told her. “My mother disappeared early on and my father was stuck with the burden of raising me.”
“She left you?” How can a mother leave her child?
“Not all mothers are the same. Mine spawned and left.”
“How very cold.” She looked away.
“It’s hard to feel anything for someone I don’t know.” Anything other than hatred and disappointment, that was.
Amber sat rod-straight, her eyes never left his. “I’m sorry,” she told him.
He was about to ask about what, when he heard her.
For the loss of a childhood.
He shook his head. “My father knew I was a powerful Druid early on.”
“How? You were a child, how did he know?”
The memory of his father out of control swam in his head. Kincaid wasn’t sure what his father’s drug of choice was… he just knew good ole’ dad wasn’t often lucid and logic and loyalty to his family wasn’t there. “I got into a fight at school. The other kid tossed his fists, but they never landed where he intended them. My dad…he knew, said something about my mom being un-human. He mentioned the word Druid…I thought it was a joke.”
“Druids are human.”
“Not to my dad.”
Amber’s eyes turned cold. “He treated you differently.”
“He treated me indifferently. Like a dog that needed to be fed and housed.”
Amber reached across the table, took his hand in hers. Warmth and the feeling of home settled over him. He’d never, ever, said any of this to anyone in his life. Hell, he hadn’t thought of the man who fathered him in years. �
��I’m sorry,” his wife said in a soft whisper.
Kincaid offered her a smile. “He had a hard time keeping a job, and when he had a chance, he pushed me off his to do list. I found the manor and those like me, and I made myself useful. It wasn’t long before my new family understood my worth.” He shielded her from his thoughts, the memories of those early years and how painful they were.
“Your ability to shield others?”
“Yeah.” He removed his hand from hers, patted his leg where one of his weapons was concealed. “I’m not a bad shot, either.”
“I’m sure you’re a valiant warrior,” she told him.
“Even in a kilt.”
She laughed then, and he felt the need to make her do that again. He liked her innocent laugh, and she didn’t let it out often enough.
“I have a hard time picturing you in a kilt.”
The waiter arrived with their wine and left a helping of bread. Remembering the time she was from, he removed a chunk of bread and placed it on her plate.
“My kilt is modified, but I do own one, or two, actually.”
“The plaid of my family?” she asked.
“Is there another?”
His question pleased her and brought the smile he loved to her lips.
He told her about his travels in time—how he’d always battled alongside her ancestors and probably even some of his own at some point.
Their dinner arrived and for the first time since Kincaid had landed in this century he felt like himself again. When the emotions of those around them started to leak in, he’d bring up his shield stronger and force them out.
It was just him and Amber.
“My father would like you,” she said between dinner and dessert.
He sat back, drank his coffee. “Your father would question every move I made.”
“Aye, he would. But in time, he would approve.”
Kincaid leaned forward and laid his hand across the table. She hesitated for a moment before laying her hand in his. Their connection sparked and a sense of peace filled his blood. “Your father’s approval is important to you?”
“Aye.”
“Then we should return to your time. Inform your family what has happened.” If he ever had a daughter, he’d want to know if she was safe. Ian MacCoinnich might be the patriarch of damn near his entire race, but he was still a man…a father.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Amber,” he uttered her name in a whisper. “My life is in as much turmoil as yours. We have both leapt into this bond, but I’d like to think there was something there before the leap. Your portrait on the wall drew my attention, and you’ve captured something deeper than just an attraction.”
The edges of her embarrassment developed in her blushing cheeks.
“I find you attractive, too,” she said in a whisper.
He wanted to laugh, but held it in. “That’s a start.”
“Is it enough? We’re bonded…married.”
The thought chilled him. Her worry? Or maybe it was his. “We’ll figure it out. Families arranged marriages for years, especially in your time.”
“That was never a concern of mine. My father didn’t follow that tradition.”
Her father was obviously the obstacle to help her past her fears. The thought of meeting Ian face to face didn’t sit well in his gut. Once again, Kincaid shielded his thoughts as best he could from his wife. They would need to visit her family as soon as time permitted. She needed their strength and their approval to move forward.
And moving forward, in order to find their place in life, was essential for him to return to his world.
He paused and realized he wasn’t sure where that was anymore.
Past, present or future? He didn’t know.
****
Giles huddled over the book that had fallen off the shelf and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
Why was this information coming to him now? To confuse him or to make him question all he knew? Did he dare look for answers?
Grainna, the evil one the MacCoinnich’s removed from all time, had bore one child. A product of a union, a ritual that gave her immortality that only the MacCoinnich’s could remove. She discarded her child as if it were garbage.
Giles cross-referenced his books—found other information on the lineage of that child, of their children. The story was always the same…a child was born and discarded. In early times, the legends said the adult child understood the power they held, and attempted to exploit it and others. In some generation’s accounts, the child did not know of their bloodline.
Then, in the last pages of the book Giles held, he read the most cryptic and disturbing prophecy of them all.
Only when the powerful one bonds and complete their union with one of equal gift, will the cycle be broken…and then the gifts of the forefathers and mothers will come together. This bond will come from two opposing families…enemies.
A crossroad will follow where the path of good or evil will be chosen. Power, in this time, will mean everything, and the path of right will have been nearly forgotten.
From this day forward, the path will not be recorded to protect and preserve the future.
May God be with us all.
Giles slammed the book closed, crossed his arms on the desk, and laid his head down.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Raine knew the moment Mouse returned to their time. The shiver up her spine was a physical sign of pleasure, much like a cat purring or a dog rolling on his back for a rub to its stomach.
Mouse arrived with enough information to dent the armor of the MacCoinnich lineage—possibly even change history. What good was time travel if one could not alter the outcome in favor of oneself, anyway?
She sensed him at the door of her chamber and bid him enter.
The man had circles under his eyes, the effect of lack of sleep and too many trips through time without rest.
“Well?” she asked, skipping all pleasantries.
He held onto the back of a chair as he spoke. “The librarian has the book.”
“And?”
Mouse shook his head and closed his eyes. “Is Kincaid really a descendent of Grainna herself?”
“You’re not here to ask questions, Mouse. Just tell me what you know.”
“There isn’t much to tell. Selma Mayfair moved into the manor.” Mouse pressed a button on the timepiece on his wrist and accessed the holo projection in Raine’s room. A picture of a law enforcement officer of the twenty first century played on screen. “This man is not Druid.” The images shifted and two identical children appeared next to a woman. “These are his children and his former wife.”
Raine smirked. “So many broken marriages in this time. Who are they to Amber and Kincaid?”
“No one directly. However this man,” the image flipped back to the officer. “He was a close colleague to the second sister’s husband.”
“The second sister?”
“Amber’s sister.”
Raine pushed from where she was perched and started to pace. Now the pieces fall into place.
The pieces and the path.
“Tell me of the manor. And then tell me the routine of these children.”
Because nothing created chaos quite like a child in need.
****
Amber exited the car with Gavin’s hand in hers. He paused under the moon and stroked a stand of hair that had fallen in her face. “We’re going to be okay, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“I want to think so.” They’d talked all night of their lives before he entered hers. Just under the surface lay worry. The fact she had trouble hearing all his thoughts and that he had managed to keep her out of his head as much as she had kept him out of hers, troubled her. She wanted to mask her insecurities, her worry of being inadequate as a wife and companion. What did she know of anything other than being a child? The opportunity of living her life hadn’t presented itself until Gavin entered her world.
Add
ing to her unease was the strong desire to see her family, to speak with her mother, and seek her father’s approval. They would want to see her well and alive, but would they approve of her rash decision to bond with a stranger? And why did it matter so very much?
She knew the answer to that.
She’d lived under the protection of her family her entire life. Never once had she been in a position to make a decision for herself.
When she had made a decision, it was the ultimate one.
“Hey?” Gavin ran a finger along her face. “What’s going on inside this beautiful head?”
Instead of answering him, she opened her mind to him and let everything flow between their link. His palm paused alongside her face as a play of emotions…hers, passed over him.
“Wow.”
“I feel more like a child than a woman sometimes. I know I have the body and the age of a woman older, but inside…”
Gavin stepped closer and folded her in his arms. “Shh. You’re not a child, Amber. Quite the opposite. Seems you’ve had to take on the persona of someone much older at a very young age. Somewhere you were lost in all of that.”
She buried her head in his shoulder and sucked in the masculine scent of his skin. “Is it wrong to want the council of my parents…my sister?”
Before Gavin could shield his thoughts, she heard him admit he had no desire for that in his life. Yet his words encouraged her. “Women have always asked their mother’s and sister’s advice. You’re not unique there.”
“Mine are harder to reach.”
He pulled back and sought her eyes. “They are a thought and a chant away, Amber. Closer than most people need to reach across town.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Of course, I’m right.
His thought made her smile.
Humble, too? she asked in her head.
He looked away and she couldn’t read him. “Your life…your family…the entirety of them is something we both need to be prepared for. Before we visit them.”
Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling a wee bit insecure in their union.
“Should we go inside?” he asked as he stepped away and held her hand.
She nodded, but didn’t move.
“What is it?”
“Why are you sleeping away from me?”
Highland Protector (MacCoinnich Time Travels Book Five) Page 19