by Diane Darcy
“How did you get here again?” her voice turned husky. “How did you follow me?”
He lifted a hand, displaying his thick wrist. “My mother’s bracelet.”
Understanding lit her eyes. “Of course.”
As his breathing slowed, he gathered her close and sank with her upon the long bench as noise and madness made its way back in.
Leaning against the wall, he hugged her tight and, as she relaxed against him, he kept watch.
There was so much that confused him here but, holding Cara kept him calm, centered, and filled with purpose.
He didn’t need to understand aught beyond the fact that they would return home.
His heart flooded, filling with satisfaction.
Cara, light of his heart, the joy in his world, would come with him.
Concerns beyond that, no longer mattered.
Chapter 43
Mom, firmly in lawyer mode, showed up about an hour later in stiletto heels, tailored black pantsuit, with a briefcase. Her dark hair was pulled into a French twist, her makeup expertly applied.
Dad, his blond hair shaggier than usual, was in a suit, which surprised her, though she didn’t let on.
They were outside the police station and getting in a cab within fifteen minutes, Wallace’s weapons returned.
There was a bit of a scuffle as Wallace tried to sit next to her in the back, but Mom’s steely-eyed gaze and Cara’s insistence, had him installed next to the cab driver.
Her mom gave directions to a hotel, and as they pulled away, her dad started to cry, and he grabbed hold of her and pulled her close and cried into her hair.
“We didn’t know what happened to you! We thought maybe something … bad … had happened to you.”
She hugged her father tightly in return, as Mom pressed her face against the other side of Cara’s head.
Dad emotional.
Mom over-protective.
Her childhood in a nutshell.
She was laughing and crying when she wailed, “I’m so happy to see you both.”
“Not another word, until we’re alone,” she shot the cab driver a look. Mom was nothing, if not suspicious.
They soon checked into a luxury hotel, her parents’ luggage was brought up by a young bellman, who was tipped, and the door firmly closed behind him.
All four of them sat at the polished table on one side of the room and Cara, clasping hands with Wallace, told them everything. About Stirling Castle, the necklace, meeting Wallace, the attack, wedding, dungeon, joust, kidnapping, and coming back through time.
Every time Dad tried to interrupt, to ask a question, Mom shushed him.
When Cara was completely done, and could think of nothing else to say, she looked at her parents expectantly.
Her dad spoke to her mom. “Do you think she could be on a bad trip? Because I had some acid one time,” he turned to Cara, “and only one time,” he stressed, “and I thought I was a magician who ruled over a land of slime and trolls.”
Mom ignored him. “Is that the necklace your director wants back? The one from the Wolfsbane movie set?”
Cara raised her hand to touch the stones and nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t mean to steal it.”
“Allegedly stolen,” Mom inserted.
Cara smiled. “Yes, allegedly. Did you say Wolfsbane?”
“Yes, lame title.”
She smiled at Wallace. “No, I love it. The movie was called Rupert the Brave when I was there.”
Mom shrugged it off as unimportant. “They must have changed it.”
A thrill shot though Cara and she grinned at Wallace, silent and stoic at her side. If he didn’t understand, she’d explain to him later that she’d changed history when she’d gone back in time.
“You’ve been fired, as was your friend Nate.”
“Nate was fired? Ha!”
“After talking to him I gathered the two of you were on the outs. But Patrice Levy went to bat for you. You might be able to get your job back when the necklace is returned.”
Mom waved a hand in the air, again unimportant. “In the meanwhile,” she shot a glance at Wallace before looking at Cara again. “I believe we need to get you help of some kind. A psychiatrist to aid you in making sense of … whatever it is you’ve been through.”
Dad made a protesting noise. “No. She needs to be with us right now. If she needs to talk to someone, we can listen. We’ll take her home, let her rest, and the story will come out when she’s ready. We don’t need strangers telling us anything about our own daughter.”
Mom glared. “Sometimes professionals are the best resource in a situation where —”
“She will not be returning to thy home.”
As one, her parents turned to face Wallace.
“What did you say?” Mom asked in a steely tone.
“Wallace —” Cara squeezed his hand, trying to head him off. “My parents —”
“The Lady Cara will be returning home with me. We are to be wed, with the king’s blessing, and you may visit her as often as you like.”
Mom slowly stood.
Wallace did as well.
Cara sighed. The man might have a foot on her mom in height, even in her stilettos, but …
Rock, meet hard place.
This was not going to end well.
“What did you say?”
Wallace did not wish to disagree with Cara’s mother, especially in light of the fact that Cara seemed close to her parents. But on this he would not be budged. They needed to know how it would be.
“I will not honey-coat this. Lady Cara has agreed to be my bride, and we will return home forthwith.”
“Wallace,” Cara said.
Her mother glared daggers. “You’re the one who took her, aren’t you? You’ve had her all this time, and you brainwashed our daughter, and now you think that, what? She’s going to marry you and bear you ten children and have sister-wives?”
“Mom, that’s not how it was.”
Wallace tried not to react. Mostly because, aye, he was the one who took her, and there was no denying it.
He supposed he’d kept her from her parents, though unknowingly. Leastwise, he could reassure her on one point. “If we do have ten children, I will be well-pleased, and able to care for them all.”
As Cara’s mother gasped, Cara groaned, bent forward and pressed her face into her hands.
“Now, see here,” Cara’s father stood, her parents a united front against him. “Our daughter is coming home with us. I can see you have some sort of an emotional connection to her —”
“Don’t honey-coat it,” Cara’s mother stated sarcastically. “He’s brainwashed our daughter and there’s no getting around that fact. She needs to see a therapist as soon as possible.”
Fighting with Cara’s beloved parents would reflect poorly upon him, and after all Cara had been through, he did not wish to upset her further.
But he’d stated his piece, and would not be swayed upon the subject.
Cara dropped her hands and straightened. “Mom, Dad, did you listen to a word I said?”
Her father’s face softened. “Sweet Pea, just come home. We can straighten all of this out later. For now, we’ll return the necklace, and you can rest up and help me garden. We’ll go surfing, and to your favorite restaurants, and we’ll talk.”
Cara stood and took Wallace’s hand and he was quick to grasp hers.
“Mom, Dad, let’s start again. This is Wallace, your future son-in-law. You need to accept that, and the fact that we are probably not going to be able to talk on the phone every day.”
“And why, exactly, is that?” her mother latched upon the last part.
Cara sighed, and then straightened her shoulders. “Because I will be living in medieval England in the year of our Lord, 1260. They don’t have telephones in that time, but we’ll definitely work something out.”
As Cara’s mom gaped, her father lifted a hand toward Cara, his expression completely devastated, an
d Wallace let out his own sigh.
Cara sat again, but didn’t release his hand, and Wallace quickly took his seat.
“Come on, sit down, and we’ll hash this out. But you need to listen, because we need to leave soon.”
Cara’s mother smiled. “That’s a great idea. Let’s sit down, order some pizza, and figure this out.”
Looking frazzled and desperate, her father was quick to agree. “Yes, pizza. It’s your favorite, sugar-bear, do you remember pizza? Pepperoni? Hawaiian? Whatever kind you want.”
Cara explained all that had happened, all over again, and finished with, “You could come see us off.”
Mom, who sat in stony-eyed silence said, “No.”
Her dad shifted between listening to the story and eyeing his wife.
“You just need to come home,” Dad finally said. “You’ve been traumatized. Remember how much you love the beach? Remember the storms we used to watch together? We can swim, soak in the sun, see your friends again. Lissa’s been calling, trying to get hold of you. She’s really worried and offered to have her Scottish husband come look for you. You could spend some time with her.”
Cara shook her head. “I’m going back in time with Wallace.” Her tone was a bit more acid. “Why don’t you just come too? I mean,” she glanced at Wallace. “We could have them over for a visit, right?”
Wallace nodded. “There is much to accomplish for now. Perhaps in a few months’ time?”
“Good idea. By then everything will be settled and we could have a guest room ready.”
She smiled at her parents. “How about it? In three months, you can come out with us and stay a while.”
“It does sound nice,” Dad said hurriedly.
Mom gave Dad a scathing look. “Don’t humor her. We did not raise her to buy into this sort of thing. Three months from now she’ll be even more indoctrinated.”
Cara drew in a breath. She knew this was hard to swallow, but time was short. They were officially missing people in 1260, and who knew what could happen in their absence. “Okay, look. Wallace and I really do have to go. But if you’ll see us off, we’ll come back to the church in say, three months?” she glanced at Wallace again. “All right?”
He nodded.
Mom’s lips tightened. “To this time portal at the church.”
“Yes, exactly. If we miss each other, I’ll call you,” her voice was a little desperate now. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll leave a note with the priest.”
She leaned forward to grasp both of their hands, and they clutched hers in return.
“I love you both very much. You’ve been the most awesome parents I could ever have wished for.”
“And you, the best daughter,” Dad said emotionally, patting her hand with his free one.
Mom gave her hand a squeeze, still sharp-eyed and determined. “Fine. We’ll drop you off at this portal so you can go to medieval times.”
Their gazes clashed.
Cara smiled. “Even though I know you’re humoring me, I think it’s a great idea. Come with us, see us off, and we’ll go from there.”
“All right,” Mom’s shark’s smile emerged.
Cara grinned. “Finally, something we can agree on. Now, before I go anywhere, I’m taking a shower!”
Chapter 44
A long hot shower later, first for her, and then for a very appreciative Wallace while she dried her hair.
Dang, she was going to miss all this. When she asked if she could take her mother’s makeup, Mom snorted, went to the pile of luggage, and held up Cara’s makeup box.
Cara let out a shriek. “Where did you get that?”
“Of course I demanded your things after I found you’d gone missing.” Next she pulled out Cara’s small suitcase, filled with all sorts of wonderful goodies.
Happily, Cara took it all.
They drove around looking for Rupert, Wallace in the front seat once again, while Cara sat in the back, between her parents, holding their hands.
Cara directed the cab driver to search the area around the church, and they drove through one backroad after another, looking for a tall, blond man dressed in medieval gear and carrying a sword.
So far, no luck.
When they arrived at the park Rupert and Cara rested at earlier, Cara instructed the cab driver to stop.
She got out and called Rupert’s name several times, but the park was empty.
Her parents didn't try to talk her into staying again, and she knew it was simply because they didn’t believe she was going anywhere.
They probably figured once she was in, medieval times, they’d know where to locate her.
They drove around for a while longer until Wallace finally turned around in his seat and said, “Mayhap he is at the church, lass?”
That did make sense, and she should have thought of it sooner.
They headed to the church and piled out of the car as her dad paid the cab driver.
Cara could almost feel the pull of the healing stone nearby, but they bypassed it and went inside the chapel.
Wallace was quick to locate a priest, a young, dark-haired man, wearing black shirt, pants, and clerical collar. “We are looking for someone. A tall man, dressed as I am, who also carries a sword. Have ye seen him?”
The priest looked at their group, his gaze lingering on their clothing. “I know who you’re referring to. I saw him and this lady here,” he indicated Cara, “earlier when there was an accident in the street. But I haven’t seen him since.”
Wallace looked at Cara and shook his head. “We must leave. If I go missing at this time …” he left the sentence unfinished, but she knew exactly what he meant.
Everything was tentative for his family. They needed a show of force, fast and strong, to reclaim what they’d lost.
They hadn’t worked so hard for this result, only to lose it at the last moment.
She sighed. “Okay, maybe we can find out what happened to him later. I’ll bet my parents will help.”
She looked at them questioningly, and they both gave noncommittal shrugs.
Cara gave them an exasperated look, and addressed the priest. “If our friend, Rupert Dinsdale, shows up looking for us, can you have him call my parents?”
“Of course.”
When the priest offered a paper and pen, she quickly wrote their names and phone numbers down.
Just like that, it was time to go, and sudden emotion gripped her hard and as she stood before her parents, she swallowed back the pressure of tears. “I really missed you while I was gone. I mean, sometimes I didn’t know if I would see you again, and it made me realize just how much I love you both.”
She hugged her mother first, a tight, hard grip, and Mom hugged her back.
They broke apart, and Mom gave her a watchful glance as Cara struggled to keep her self-control.
Turning to her father, she blinked back another blur of tears. “And Daddy, I love you so much,” she threw herself forward and they hugged with equal strength.
When she pulled away, she held out a hand to Wallace, and then gasped. “I don’t want my parents to miss my wedding!”
Wallace glanced around. “We can marry here and now, if you’d like.”
Dad choked, and Mom protested. “You are acting like lunatics.”
Dad looked like he might cry again. “Cara, you can’t possibly want this.”
She smiled at him softly, understanding his reserve, but unwilling to let the chance slide. “You’re the ones who told me to seek out adventure, to live the life that I wanted, and this is it.”
Mom turned to Dad. “Somehow, this is your fault.”
Cara laughed. “As if you didn’t fill my head with the same stuff. Telling me that I could do, or be, whatever my heart desired.”
Mom threw her hands up in the air. “We didn’t want this for you!”
Cara turned to the priest. “Can you do it? Can you marry us right now?”
“Uh …” the priest stammered. “Do you
have a license?”
Cara looked at Wallace and he shook his head. “That matters not.” He turned to the priest. “Will you see to this wedding, so witnessed by her parents?”
“Well …” the priest looked at each person in turn. “As long as you realize this is simply a formality, and will not be considered legal.”
Mom shot Dad a satisfied glance, before turning to Cara. “Sure, honey, if this is what you want.”
Dad gave a reluctant nod. “All right. But you heard the priest, it won’t be legal.”
She smiled at both of her parents, understanding them completely, but also glad they’d see her wed. “All right, let’s do this.”
Wallace bowed to her parents. “The king himself betrothed us, if that makes any difference to you.”
“Sure,” Mom said. “The king of England, right? Let’s just get you married already.”
The priest took a few minutes to set things up, and then led them in their wedding vows.
It was a traditional wedding ceremony, to have and to hold, and all that. Looking into Wallace’s eyes, seeing the pure emotion, that included pleasure, tenderness, satisfaction, and love.
Her dad took pictures, probably for a future wanted poster for Wallace, but she’d be glad to have them.
Her heart felt too big for her chest, and her eyes welled with tears as the priest finished and pronounced them man and wife.
“Lady Wolfsbane,” Wallace said, and he leaned forward, his lips capturing hers in a possessive way that left her breathless, and thrilled.
She was his, and he was hers.
They could figure the rest out.
They were soon back outside by the stone in front of the church.
Under the skeptical gaze of her parents her father cleared his throat. “You know, this reminds me of the time you tried to fly away on a tire. You had a towel with some string attached and a book of matches.”
She smiled. “I remember that. I held up the towel, and you lit matches underneath so it would float like an air balloon. You would’ve sat there all day, lighting matches, wouldn’t you?”
Again, tears filled her eyes and she reached up and kissed him on his cheek, permanently reddened from the sun. “You’ve been the best father I could ever have wished for.”