Morna's Legacy 04 - Love Beyond Measure

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Morna's Legacy 04 - Love Beyond Measure Page 2

by Bethany Claire


  “Of course you may start right away. As long as you complete the article and do a wonderful job of it, I have no problem with you bringing along your son. I believe we will have more than enough from our benefactor to pay for his flight, as well. I will book the flight for you both right away and will forward you the details when complete. Pack your bags, dear.”

  I nodded. As he turned toward his desk, I started to take my leave, but not before I heard his voice, laced with anxiety, follow me down the corridor. “And for the love of all things holy, Grace. Do not screw this up. We’ll be without our jobs by Christmas without this money.”

  Chapter 2

  The Inn Near Conall Castle

  Present Day

  This time proved far easier than the last, but his scars still ached something dreadful. Each dab of the warm cloth that Morna pressed against the angry red line that now marked the entire length of his body caused him to grind his teeth to keep from screaming out.

  “I’m sorry, lad, but I must first clean it before I place the salve upon it. Talk to me. It will help to distract ye from the pain a wee bit, though it must no be hurting ye as much as it did when ye first arrived here. Does it, Eoghanan?”

  It took some effort to loosen his jaw enough to speak, but eventually he forced the words to come. “Nay, it doesna hurt as much as then, but if I were standing, it would do a fair job of bringing me to me knees, all the same.” The old witch was right, releasing the tight clench of his jaw did seem to ease the pain a little, or at least it helped him to notice it less. Decidedly, he thought it best to keep talking. “I saw her again. The same lass as the last time. Her and the wee lad both.”

  “Ah, and what lass is this?”

  Morna’s voice gave nothing away, but her hand momentarily stilled along the side of his neck, all but confirming what he already suspected. She knew well enough the woman he spoke of.

  “I suspect that ye know the lass far better than I, doona ye? I’ve only watched the lass, but ye have sent me to her twice.”

  This time the old woman remained entirely un-bothered, continuing her slow and steady cleansing of his injured side. “I doona wish to disappoint ye, but I am no familiar with who ye speak of, and I have sent ye nowhere, lad. ’Tis no the way this magic works.”

  Eoghanan struggled to sit up but was restrained by Morna’s hand moving to press his shoulder back down onto the bed, causing his frustration to rise even further. “I doona believe ye. Is it no yer magic that no only brought me here but sends me back now? What I canna figure out is the purpose behind it. Why no send me back to a time earlier, but still in this verra spot if I canna yet go home? I doona know where I have been the last two times, but it wasna Scotland. I’d bet me verra life on that fact.”

  Eoghanan watched as resignation washed over his bed nurse. The lines of her face softened slightly. He hoped answers might finally come to him.

  “Ach, ye are a stubborn lad, are ye no? But still…I suppose ye deserve an explanation, so that I shall try to give to ye.” She pulled the cloth away from the top of Eoghanan’s shoulder, her once red hair now graying from the effects of time, dipping into the water as she reached over the basin sitting beside her to ring it out before draping it over the side of the bowl. Hands free, she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms before continuing. “Though, I’ll no lay blame on meself for not providing ye one earlier. Ye were in such a rush to travel back to yer home, that ye wouldna have listened to anything that I said. Ye dinna even allow me the chance to tell ye that yer first travel wouldna be to the time ye wished it.”

  Eoghanan succeeded in sitting up this time, determined to look at Morna straight on as she spoke to him. His own red hair hung frustratingly in his face, covering his green eyes. He blew the strands upward to clear his vision before he spoke. “Aye, I am in a hurry to return home. Me brother’s wife is with child, and I doona wish to miss the bairn’s arrival. I have stayed too long here.”

  Morna’s head shook forcefully in denial of what he’d said. “No. Ye havena stayed nearly long enough. Do ye no remember what happened to ye the first time I sent ye back? Why yer wound split partially open, and ye nearly died…again! If I were ye, I wouldna wish to go knocking on death’s door another time. Ye probably havena heard it, but there’s something that people say in this time—third time’s a charm. Ye go visiting death again, and he might just decide to answer the door.” She paused momentarily, lowering her voice which had grown rather excited. “That being said, I will do all that I can to make sure ye will be strong enough to return home before the child’s arrival, but in order for ye to be so, we must keep working to send ye back, but no so far so quickly.”

  A fortnight earlier, after spending months nearly entirely bedridden, Morna’s announcement that she was ready to use her magic on him had indeed excited him so much that he’d not allowed any further instruction or explanation. He demanded that she use it on him at once.

  The result was an experience so shocking and strange that Eoghanan still could not fully process all that he’d seen, only holding on to the one piece of serenity he’d found in the chaotic world he’d been sent to—the beautiful lass and the young boy by her side.

  For as the spell had begun, Eoghanan expected to arrive back on the shore of McMillan Castle’s lake in precisely the same year that he’d left—1647. Instead he’d landed in a frightening and very noisy jungle filled with tall structures and foul smells. Thankfully, he woke in the shadows and went unnoticed, free to observe the oddities so foreign from all that he’d known.

  Pushing thoughts of the experience aside for a moment, he returned to the conversation at hand. “Aye, I doona wish to meet death any time soon. I do wish, however, that ye’d silenced me long enough to warn me of what I would see. I’d like to think that I am no a man easily frightened, but arriving in a place so different from what I expected…” His lack of comprehension stopped him, “was…verra unsettling. But never mind. Tell me about the magic, for if ye doona keep sending me to the same lass, why is it that I end up in her presence each time?”

  Morna sat quietly for a moment. Eoghanan assumed she wondered how best to try to explain it to him. Eventually, she spoke. “Do ye remember the stone that brought ye here?”

  He nodded, though the memory was a vague one. There’d not been much life in him when he traveled forward. “Aye, I do. What of it?”

  “That stone is verra much me own magic. Created by me for the use of yer sister-in-law Mitsy, and now for yerself. But the stone is tied directly to one location and time—yer own. I know enough of how the time travel works and what it does to one’s body, essentially ripping ye fair apart before placing ye back together, to know that yer wounds were no healed enough to take ye all the way back that many centuries. I thought it best to use spells already in place for many years, created by others with magic, to allow ye to build up yer strength before such a long travel. They allow me to decide just how far back I wish ye to go, but there are powers greater than me own that choose just exactly where ye end up.”

  Eoghanan’s brows pulled in, displaying his doubt before he had a chance to mask it. “And just what powers are these?”

  “I suppose everyone thinks of such a power differently. Ye could call it fate, I suppose. Perhaps, ye are meant to know the lass?”

  “No, though she is a lovely sight to be sure, I willna be here long enough to know anyone, save ye and yer husband, Jerry.”

  Morna said nothing, merely reaching back to grab the cloth, rinsing it once more before gesturing to him to lay back again. “Let me tell ye now, so that there will be no more questions about me being truthful with ye, how I plan to build up yer strength. The first time I sent ye back was to nearly three months ago, and it was too far for yer first trip. This last time was doable, only a week back, but as it still caused ye some pain, I think it best if today’s journey only takes ye back a few hours—a day at the most. Tomorrow we shall go a bit farther, a week and a half, I reckon, and then the
next day a bit shorter, and so on and so on. One day far, one day close, until we build up yer strength. Is this acceptable to ye?”

  Eoghanan winced as the cloth touched his tender skin once more, his voice slightly unsteady as he answered, “Aye, ’tis fine.”

  Morna smiled at him, squeezing his hand in sympathy before pressing the rag against him once more. “I’m only just to yer shoulder and, after I’ve cleansed ye, I still have to apply the salve. Best ye tell me about this lass ye have seen. Ye havena spoken of her until today.”

  “Verra well.” He’d thought of nothing else but her for days, so despite Morna’s request, it seemed the only natural thing to speak of. Besides, he’d not yet been given the opportunity to write about her and all he’d seen, a practice he’d kept religiously since childhood. He very much didn’t want to forget her. Perhaps speaking of the lass would keep her fresh in his memory so that he would have the words ready when it came time to write. “I doona know her name, for each time the wee boy, her son I suppose, calls her ‘Mom.’ ’Tis no her real name. The lad is called, Cooper. An odd name to be sure, but it seems to fit the lad just fine.”

  Once he started, the words left him freely, and he took his time describing every instant, recalling every word he’d heard between them. He no longer spoke directly to Morna, but more to himself. It stirred something inside him, to speak of the lass and her son, something that made him feel alive and whole, rather than the weak, wounded man he’d felt like for the past many moons.

  The memories of his beloved strangers took him away. He no longer felt the witch’s work, not noticing that she’d finished until he heard Jerry’s voice in the doorway.

  “Morna dear, when ye are finished with him, will ye join me? I need some help in the garden, if ye doona mind. There’s a wee beasty weed that is near strangling the life out of one of me plants. I’d like ye to use a bit of magic and kill the devil.”

  Patting his hand in a motherly fashion, Morna stood from her place beside him, glancing over her shoulder to answer her husband. “I’m finished with him. I’ll leave him to rest a while, and we will try out another travel this afternoon.”

  Eoghanan shifted his eyes from Jerry back to Morna as she addressed him before leaving.

  “Are ye comfortable? Will ye be okay for a few hours?”

  Eoghanan nodded confidently. “Aye, but I’d like to write in me book. Could ye hand it to me?”

  Morna started in the direction of his journal but stopped midway, turning a mischevious smile at him. “No, I doona think so. Ye need to start building yer strength here as well, and walking across the room willna rip ye open from temple to toe. I’ll leave ye to get it for yerself.”

  *

  Jerry grasped at Morna’s arm as soon as she closed the bedroom door behind her. “Ye are much too good at making up lies, love. It unsettles me a bit.”

  Morna looked at him incredulously. “I doona know what ye mean by that.”

  He stopped and faced her, blocking her path down the hallway, staring at her with one wiry eyebrow raised, waiting to speak again until she smiled guiltily. “Ach, look there. See, ye do know perfectly what I mean. Ye told the lad that ye doona choose where he ends up. If that were true, I wouldna have had to speak to a Mr. Perdie in America about the money that we will give him to get the lass here, would I?”

  “Have ye taken to spying on me, Jerry?”

  “I’ve always spied on ye. Ye get yerself in far too much trouble without me supervision. But I doona believe I knew until today just how well ye could lie.”

  His wife leaned in to kiss him reassuringly on the cheek. “Life isna worth it without some trouble now and then, but ye shouldna be surprised that I am a good liar. ’Tis a trait of women and the fault of men that we must be so. The folly of ye all has required it of us. I dare ye to find one woman that isna capable of it.”

  Giving his cheek a quick pat, Morna pushed past him, moving down the hallway ahead of him, leaving Jerry rather stunned and open-mouthed.

  Chapter 3

  LaGuardia Airport, New York City

  Present Day

  An hour spent in line at airport security, mixed with the general hectic chaos of the airport, was enough to damper the anticipation of even the most enthusiastic traveler. For all his excitement, Cooper had mellowed dramatically from the bouncy, ecstatic boy he’d been this morning by the time we finally sat down at our gate to await boarding.

  “Are you nervous?” I nudged him lightly with my elbow, eliciting a trademark lift of an eyebrow as he squirmed in his seat to face me.

  “Nah. Why would I be nervous? I’ve always wanted to fly. I was born to fly, Mama.”

  I chuckled, glancing down at my watch to check the time. “Oh you were, huh? Well, you’ll get to shortly. Only an hour until take off now. I bet we start boarding within the next fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Fifteen?” For a brief second his voice held a slight whine, but he checked it quickly, knowing it wouldn’t be tolerated. “I don’t think I can even last another five.” He held up four fingers, but silently counted as he looked over his hand and quickly extended his thumb so it displayed the correct number.

  “Oh, I bet you can. Let’s do something to pass the time. Want to work on your reading?” He loved for me to read to him and, no surprise, he was catching on quickly.

  Enthused, he immediately reached to the floor to grab his backpack so that he could pick a reading choice.

  “Can we read the book Dad gave me last night?”

  “Sure.” I responded reflexively, but I watched him rummage through his bag apprehensively. Jeffrey was in no way much of a reader. I couldn’t, for the life of me, imagine Jeffrey going to a bookstore to find a book for Cooper. I anticipated him pulling a comic out of his backpack. That was fine. It just wouldn’t be the reading material I knew Cooper would want. He didn’t enjoy pop-up and sticker books; he wanted more words than pictures. Just another trait that made him anything but the typical child.

  “This one.”

  Surprising me, he extended The Little Prince by Antoine deSaint Exupery. So much more than a simplistic children’s story, this tale had just the sort of depth that Cooper would enjoy, although I would have to explain some of the meaning to him, he wouldn’t mind. He loved to learn.

  “Dad gave this to you?” I couldn’t mask the doubt in my voice.

  “Yeah, but Bebop helped. He said that since the two of you were getting so many gifts for the wedding, I needed something too. He said he didn’t know what to get me, but then Bebop helped.”

  That made much more sense. It was Cooper’s Bebop, Jeffrey’s dad, who’d introduced me to the story when I’d been a little girl. A warm, funny, and caring man so different from my own father, I spent most of my childhood wishing I’d been born to him instead.

  “Ah, well this is a very special gift, ya know? It’s one of my favorites.”

  “Really?” I’d drawn him in now. Knowing that I loved the book, he’d sit contently and listen to me read it, even if he didn’t care for it, although I knew he would.

  “Yes, really. Scoot in closer and I’ll start. I don’t think this is the best book for us to practice your own reading with though, it’s a bit long.”

  He pulled his feet up into the seat and slid in tight, leaning toward me. “That’s fine. I’ll just listen.”

  He smiled, leaning his head against my shoulder as my heart squeezed happily. I’d just opened the cover when we were interrupted by an attendant alerting all those at our gate that boarding would begin promptly.

  “Ope!” I made the excited noise as I closed the spine and slid the book back into his backpack. “This is it, Coop. We’ll read it on the plane, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  His legs flew off the seat so fast, he just about fell down, but catching himself he threw his backpack on and smiled ecstatically, as happy as I’d ever seen him.

  Thrilled as he was, he flatly refused to board with the group “travelers wit
h small children.” While I would’ve enjoyed the benefit of getting on the plane first, I didn’t push the issue. I wouldn’t put a damper on anything that brought him this much joy.

  So once all pre-boarders had entered, we lined up with the rest, squished firmly somewhere in between groups B and C. He held my hand tightly, leaning out past the line so that he could see something besides the backsides of those in front of us.

  I watched him smiling, when suddenly he jerked away from me, spinning to face something catty-corner from the line where he waved a little shyly. Startled, I crouched down next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder so that I could steady myself while I looked in the same direction. I could see no one—no one that either of us knew at least.

  “What are you waving at?” I lightly squeezed his shoulder to pull his attention away from who or whatever he looked at so intently.

  “Over there.” He pointed to the side of an escalator, where a shadow spread deep over the tile around it. “Do you remember the man I told you about at the park? With the scars? He’s here again.”

  Grateful that I’d steadied myself with his shoulder, I spun him toward me, doing my best to keep my voice calm despite the shiver that shook me all over. “I remember you mentioning the man, but I never saw him. Are you sure he’s here now?”

  I released my grip so that he could turn and look again and I tried to do the same. Again, I saw no one. Cooper refaced me, clearly frustrated. “He’s not there anymore, but he was, I know it.”

  Cooper didn’t lie. Even when he tried to, he could only last a few seconds before his face would give way with guilt and he would fess up. If he believed he saw someone, he meant it, but why had I not noticed him?

  Sure, I had a lot on my mind lately—my almost wedding and new job—not to mention that, like every mother, half of my mind always rested on Cooper. Still, it seemed that every time I made to look at the man Cooper mentioned, the stranger vanished into thin air. I couldn’t help but wonder if Cooper saw someone who wasn’t really there. An imaginary friend, perhaps? As the line started to move, I decided to direct my questioning to that effect.

 

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