Saving Time

by Jenn Lees

  Chapter 25

  The Isle of Ewe

  Siobhan stepped out of the rocking motorboat onto the pier, the medical kit over her shoulder. Murdo trod behind her as she walked along the pale gravel path in the starlit night. The fisherman hadn’t said a word since asking her to come with him and remained mute in response to her questions. A sense of unease swirled with numbness. She may as well be a nurse as do anything else at this point in time.

  Light shone from the window of the cottage at the top of the incline. Once there, Murdo stepped in front of her and opened the door.

  “Welcome to ma’ wee cottage. Ye’ll ken the man inside.” Murdo stayed by the open door and gestured with his hand for her to enter.

  Siobhan stepped into a lamplit, one-roomed crofter’s cottage. An old solid fuel stove stood against the wall to her left and a bed against the far wall behind the gingham-covered table directly in front of her. Someone on the bed groaned. She stepped around the table as a tall man raised himself from the bed to a standing position.

  “Rory?” She dropped the medical kit by the door and hurried to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him to herself. Her heart pounded as his heart beat loudly in her ear pressed against him. “I can’t believe it.” Her whisper muffled into him.

  Rory’s arms surrounded her. His cheek rested on the top of her head; his breathing loud above her.

  “Mmm.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest against her ear. “Siobhan...”

  She could have held him forever, but she recalled Murdo’s comment of a head injury.

  “You’re injured?” Siobhan pulled herself back to look him in the face.

  Rory’s eyes were full of tears. He wiped them away.

  “Ah...I’ve had a wee bash to the back o’ ma head.” He raised his hand to place it behind his head. His bandage was off, and his loose curls now sat in an unruly manner about his face. “Dinnae think there’s any blood this time.” He blinked away more tears and wiped his cheek with his hand once he brought it back.

  The same hand then held her face as his mouth descended, his eyes locked on hers the entire way to her face. Warm, soft lips engulfed hers as he pressed hard. Rory’s fingers ran once more into her hair and cupped her head. He broke their kiss.

  “Och, I thought I’d never do that again.” His mouth was centimetres from hers, he then gently kissed her upper lip, then her lower lip. He took his face away and pressed her to himself once more and held her there.

  Horse and heather.

  They hugged in silence. The Aga stove clicked as it heated the small room of the cottage, and the night breeze blew in through the still open door.

  “Ah, will ye be needing anything, Ms Kensington-Wallace? To tend to the man’s wounds, like?” Murdo spoke with one hand on the door.

  “A head injury. Now it depends on if you lost consciousness, Rory.” Siobhan disengaged herself from Rory’s embrace.

  “Aye. Angus knocked me out cold.” Rory’s blue eyes continued their focus on her, retaining their moisture.

  “Angus?” Siobhan blinked. “Wouldn’t have thought he had it in him.”

  Rory raised his eyebrows. “Och, he was determined.”

  Murdo coughed from the doorway.

  “Yes, well, if that’s the case, I must ensure Rory’s all right concussion-wise, which means I will have to keep him awake for a while.” Siobhan turned to Murdo.

  “Aye well, I leave ye to it then. I’m verra sure ye’ll find a way tae do that, lassie. Goodbye.” The old man tilted his head to Rory and shut the door.

  Siobhan turned back to Rory. He had one eyebrow raised quizzically.

  “Well, sit down. Let me look at your head then,” she said.

  Rory sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to his injury. Siobhan inspected the back of his head and found a large swelling but no cut.

  “You’re right. No blood.” She sat beside him. “Where’s Angus?”

  Rory looked at his hands in his lap. “Somewhere past Lewis. That’s where Murdo found me in the dinghy.” He swallowed. “Angus has taken it upon himself to sail a submarine out to the middle of the North Atlantic and personally ensure the nuke goes off.” He looked into her eyes then. “I was very mad at him when I came to. But now that I see you, I’m just thankful.” Both hands raised to her face and he pressed his lips to hers once more.

  Siobhan felt the strength of the man now restrained as he held her face in a gentle grip. Emotion flowed through him as his fingers trembled. Siobhan inhaled; his scent was comforting. His warm skin touching her was the evidence he was alive and real, and here with her now. His ardent lips moved away; his breath caressed her face as he rested his forehead on hers.

  “Good old Angus, aye?” Rory’s voice was gentle, sorrow mixed with something else.

  Relief?

  “How did Murdo know where you were? Did Angus tell him where he dumped you?”

  “No.” He shook his head as his arms encircled her and held tight. “And Murdo would nae tell me anything about how he knew. Only some vague ‘he’d guess we should be at such-and-such a place by whatever time it was’. He must’ve been following us.”

  Rory leaned back, loosening his hold, and stretched then flinched.

  “Och, after the day I’ve had I’m going tae need to lie down.” He stood and took off his shirt and placed it over a chair beside the table. “It’s Murdo’s. A factory-made one. Still with the label in it. Don’t want to ruin it any more than I have already.” He turned back to her and made his way to the bed where she sat. “Am I allowed to lie down? Promise I won’t go to sleep. On purpose, anyway.”

  Siobhan smiled and moved to allow him to lie down. The bed creaked with his weight. Rory laid back, gingerly placing his head on the old pillows covered in flannelette. With each lift of his head, each tiny adjustment, his abdominal muscles tensed, defining six sections. The lamplight illuminated his sleeve of Celtic tattoos.

  “I hope you now understand you don’t own the sole rights to the hero title.” In her concern, her words came out as a reprimand. But she’d sensed his struggle and how he believed the responsibility of fixing it lay on him, whatever the it to fix was—even a nuclear warhead.

  “Aye, well. My father owns the rights to that one.” Rory swallowed.

  “You’re not him, no matter how many people say you’re like him. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself, Rory.”

  Rory’s nostrils flared. “I miss him.” His voice sounded strangled. “I was with him when he was shot. We were rescuing my mother and wee sister. And then, he died. Bled to death in my mither’s arms. She did all she could, but it still was nae enough.” He swallowed. “Och, I’ve said too much.” He placed his arm over his eyes, covering his tears.

  An ache in sympathy with his started in Siobhan’s core.

  “Oh Rory, that’s such a traumatic thing to have lived through.”

  His forearm remained over his eyes. He sniffed.

  “Come closer, Siobhan.”

  Siobhan shuffled closer and leaned over, placing one hand on either side of him. Her hair fell over her shoulder onto his chest as she laid her head on him.

  She listened through his ribs to the sound of his breathing for a while.

  “You must stay awake. I need to know you only have a concussion. Oh hell, what if you’re having a cerebral bleed?” Siobhan lifted her head.

  “Do you always think the worst? I’m okay, Siobhan. I’ve got a wee headache, ’tis all.” Rory’s tears had dried and his tone was now teasing.

  “I think I should check your pupils.” Siobhan looked into his blue eyes. One of his brows arched. “I need a torch.” She scanned the room. Behind the door lay his radiation suit with a utility belt attached. She walked over and picked up the torch.

  “I’d be surprised if it still worked.” Rory shuffled himself further over on the single bed, making room for her.

  “Look at me.” She shone the light into his eyes. His pupils reacted briskly. “T
hat’s okay. Don’t ask me what to do if it’s not.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “How do you know? You don’t know what the future holds.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself.

  Rory’s hands came to her face and pulled her down to him. The torch clattered on the floor. Their lips met, warm and urgent, his beard tickled its way around her mouth and brushed against her cheek; his russet-ginger, Highlander’s beard. He broke off their kiss.

  “We are together, aye?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “If you’re okay being with a much older woman.”

  “That again?” He exhaled. “Did you not get it? Your age does nae matter to me! Does it matter to you that I’m a wee bit younger?” His gaze was intense.

  “Doesn’t matter to me. As long as you don’t accuse me of being a cougar.”

  “A what? A big cat?” His brows drew together, and his head shook in confusion.

  “No, it’s ... doesn’t matter. It won’t matter. It’s nobody else’s business.”

  “Exactly.” Rory gave a short nod.

  He sunk back into the bed, relaxing. He had a mat of hair in between defined pectorals. Siobhan couldn’t resist the urge to run her fingers in it and found her hands had made their own way there, now playing with it. His chest rose and fell, and his breath blew past her hands. The dim light of the one and only lamp in the room fell on him, his cheeks glowed softly where they were bare of beard and a glint reflected in his softening eyes.

  Rory raised his face to hers and connected his lips to her mouth, encouraging her onto him. Strong arms surrounded her sides and large warm hands traced their way along her back, resting on her buttocks, pressing them onto him. His kisses continued.

  Siobhan lifted her lips from his and placed her hand on his chest, palm down. She needed to know.

  “What are we doing?”

  Rory raised his eyebrows, eyes wide. “What do you think we’re doing? Nothing either of us does nae want to.”

  “What do you mean?” Sudden indignance flashed through her. Did he just assume she’d be okay making love to him?

  Boy, would she be okay.

  But... she didn’t want to get pregnant. Not now, that’s for sure. There was so much they had to sort out. She doubted he had contraceptives. Or maybe he did. He was a very sexy man. But, and she was sure of it, he wasn’t with anyone...until now. And he didn’t seem the kind of man to sleep around. So...

  “I mean...Let me say it better.” Rory’s voice was deep and even, certain of every word. “I’ll no’ do anything you dinnae want to, Siobhan. And I for one will nae make you my wife, until you are my wife.”

  She blinked a few times. “Meaning?”

  His head tilted to the side; his eyes soft. “Let me show you.”

  Rory’s hands slid from her buttocks and made their way around to the buttons on her camouflaged-patterned shirt. He undid them and slipped off her shirt, assisting her to remove her arms from it. He let the shirt slip to the floor. Rory put his hands behind her and deftly undid her bra and pulled the straps over her shoulders, never taking his eyes away from hers. His fingers tracing their way along her arms left a shiver of touch-memory in their wake.

  Siobhan lifted her torso and slid out of the bra. Rory pulled it away and she lowered herself back down, her bare torso now touched Rory’s in its entirety. Rough chest hair tickled her front; her nipples sensitive to every part of him they contacted. He touched his mouth to hers, gently pulling at her lower lip.

  Rory broke away and lifted himself, turning to his side, he placed her on her back. He was now on top of her; sturdy arms holding his heavy body centimetres above hers. His lips began a journey from her mouth to her throat and down between her breasts. Soft sensuous caresses. Tickling.

  Rory’s mouth moved to her nipples, taking one at a time into his mouth, the hair of his beard adding to her awareness of his touch as it brushed the surrounding mound of her breast. Wet and warm, his mouth enveloped each nipple, sucking, he brought them to a point and released, discharging a sensation between her legs with each turn.

  Siobhan’s breathing escalated, her heart pumped, and so much was going on between her legs. His mouth made a bumpy journey to her waist as her abdomen rose and fell with each breath. Rory’s loose, long hair flowed closely beside his face and trailed behind, resting on her bare skin, repeating each sensory stimulation in its quiet passage across her body.

  Then Rory knelt, and a smile came to his lips.

  “You okay?”

  “Am I okay? Yes!” She hadn’t meant to sound so breathless. Or so eager.

  His smile reached his eyes.

  He moved his hands to the top of her cargo pants and undid the button and the zip, his eyes never leaving hers. He grasped her cargo pants at the waist and slowly peeled them off her legs, then tossed them on the floor. Rory’s hands travelled up the sides of her thighs and connected with her underpants and held them.

  “Still okay with this?”

  Siobhan nodded, unable to speak; her mind racing ahead and her body not too far behind it.

  Rory focussed on her and her pleasure, ensuring she was not uncomfortable with any of it.

  No man had ever been so intent on her.

  Rory’s attentions eased any apprehension, and her desire for him heightened as her heart raced, her skin registered every connection with his, and a gentle pulsation accompanied the increasing dampness between her thighs.

  He pulled her underpants off and threw them on the floor before he placed his hands on her inner thighs and spread her legs.

  “Wait. What about you?” Siobhan sat up, her legs now either side of him, and placed her hands on the waistband of his buckskins. His gentle lovemaking had obliterated the memory of his alluding to no sex. And there was an obvious bulge in his trousers.

  “No, Siobhan, I cannae remove those. Remember, I’ll not make you my wife until you are my wife.” He leant forward and pressed his lips hard against hers, lying her back down as he did so.

  Then his mouth made its way along her front once more, as before. As she grasped his soft russet-red waves, she wasn’t too sure how much more of this she could take. Every touch sparked a fire growing in intensity low in her belly—and other places.

  Rory loved her and was showing it in a way she’d never experienced before. This wasn’t just sex, even if he wasn’t going to...

  It was love.

  Rory’s mouth made its slow caressing way to her pubic hair where it lingered and then plunged to her depths.

  Chapter 26

  The blonde, curly-haired boy holds the toy bow in his left hand. The arrow hangs loosely in his right hand, dangling from the string.

  “It will nae work!” His shoulders sink, and the arrow drops to the ground.

  “Come here, son. Let’s have a look at what you’re doing.”

  The young child comes close and leans his small body against his leg. Rory squats and puts his arm around him.

  He takes the boy’s left hand in his and holds the toy bow. With his right hand, he helps the boy hold the arrow.

  “Now, you rest the arrow on your finger, like this.” Rory notches the arrow into the bowstring and shows the lad how the shaft rests on the archer’s hand.

  “Oh, that’s it! I was nae doing that, Daddy.”

  He lets the boy release the string and the arrow darts from the bow. It skips over the ground and clatters to a halt a long way before its intended target.

  The boy’s lips pout.

  “Aiming is another lesson, son.” He hugs the boy and turns.

  Siobhan walks toward them.

  The wind blows across the moor and the loose dress she wears presses close to her form.

  Her growing belly shows.

  She walks straight to him and presses her body to his as their son collects his arrow.

  She smiles.

  “You look happy.”

  “I am.” Her mouth stretches to a g
rin. “Christine says I am a walking miracle. Way past my prime, yet pregnant for the second time. Must be the virile man I have regular sex with.”

  Rory’s mouth tugs with a smile he cannot repress.

  Rory woke. The early morning sunlight streamed across the room from the window behind him and lit the paintings of Murdo MacDonald’s family.

  It must be about four o’clock, sunrise this far north in the middle of summer.

  Nearly time.

  Rory’s arm was around Siobhan’s waist as she lay on her side in front of him, his hand cupping her flat belly. He drew in her scent.

  Always flowers.

  Siobhan stirred, and as she did, her bare skin shifted beneath his hand and her curly pubic hair brushed underneath his fingers, tickling.

  She rolled over to face him. Her eyes were so close and their usual sapphire-blue in the daylight, the same colour as the loch outside on a sunlit day.

  Rory pressed his lips to hers and she returned his kiss through sleepiness.

  “Hmm. You umm...taste like...” She screwed up her mouth.

  “Wonder why that is.” He raised his eyebrows. “And please dinnae be so romantic first thing in the morning, like.”

  Siobhan snuggled into his side, her arm draped over his chest.

  It was so good. So right.

  “Rory?”

  “Aye.”

  “You’re a young man—”

  “Dinnae start that again.”

  “No, please hear me out. It’s important.” She lifted herself onto her elbows, so her deep dark-blue eyes peered into his.

  Siobhan chewed her lip.

  “I’m past my biological prime and we may not have any children and I know you’d make a great father and you should be one and it’s not fair if you don’t.” Her words ran together, and the tears had started.

  “Now wait, wait. Ssh ssh. It’s okay, we have children. Two at least.”

  She sucked in a faltering breath. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said, woman. We have at least two children. The eldest is a boy.” Rory put his conviction into his voice.

  She frowned. Then her face lit. “Oh, you’ve time travelled to the future and you know all this?” Then she frowned once more. “You knew I’d fall in love with you from the start? Like it was inevitable for you? Where’s my free will in all this?”