Finding My Highlander (24 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

For two more days, Andra took her meals in her room, barely eating, and barring her door to everyone except Kendrick. He would sit with her for a while in the evening when they would take wine in front of the fire. She would ask after everyone but her voice lacked any sign of enthusiasm. Then the conversation would lull into an hour or more of silence. The woman he encountered at night was far more fragile than the woman he’d first met those many weeks ago. He feared that any wrong word or action would break her irrevocably, and he had no idea how to breach the shield she’d erected against the world.

They never discussed the revelation about her time travel or anything about her capture and the ensuing battle. And, to his everlasting disappointment, she never asked him to lay with her again. All the fire and spark that existed before, the spirit and joy that defined the woman he had grown to love, had burned to ashes and he didn’t know how to rekindle the flame. No one heard her raise her voice in song, she never returned to the bailey for her morning workouts, she did not join the family for meals, and she did not engage with the children.

Three more days passed while Andra continued to withdraw rather than improve. Kendrick’s thoughts and fears became an agony. He met Rabbie and Struan in the lower bailey to work with the men. Michael had come down for the first time since their return. His injuries were healing well, although he could not yet engage in mock combat; still, he wanted to be with the men.

“How is Lady Andra?” he inquired somewhat sheepishly. Alec had regaled every man, woman, and child who would listen with her heroics on the battlefield—numerous times, and Michael along with many others were beyond besotted. Everyone now accepted Andra as the laird’s lady; even if he had not declared his intentions to his clan.

“She recovers, Michael, but her trials have exhausted her.” Kendrick couldn’t suppress his stiff grimace as he gave this lie to the young man whom Andra had saved.

“I owe her my life. Please tell her I am at her disposal to fulfill any task she might need of me.” He dipped his chin respectfully then walked away to join a group of other young men.

“The lads are near tripping over themselves in adoration of your lass.” Struan grumbled in his usual gruff manner. He fooled no one. “How is she, really? I have not seen her since our return. The bairns and young Kyle are driving everyone to distraction asking after her.”

“Aye, that’s true enough,” said Rabbie. “Even Beatrice and Isabel have been desperate over Andra’s refusal to admit them to her room. She has even refused Alith’s entrance.”

Kendrick stared up toward the shuttered window behind which she hid from the world. “To tell the truth, the woman who sits in that room is not the woman we all knew. She is broken, and I dinnae ken how to help her. The dragoon Lucas, who is recovering, has told me much of what he kens about her capture and the horrors she witnessed and survived at the hands of those…” He couldn’t even mention their names without wanting to commit violence.

“Yet she won’t talk about anything, and I’m afraid to press her too hard. The healers offer no suggestions, they only caution patience and time.”

Rabbie shook his head in commiseration but Struan had other ideas. “What do you mean you dinnae ken how to talk to her? Caution! Patience! Bah! Turn her over your knee, bed her, tell her one of the bairns is ill, lie, cajole, just do somethin’, man.” He threw up his arms and stormed away grumbling that mayhap someone else should take the lass in hand.

Rabbie couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Well, if that doesn’t beat all. However, I agree with him. We need to think of something, Kendrick, before she’s lost to us forever. By the way, have you told anyone else about her confession concerning her past? Mayhap you could get her to talk a bit about that.”

“Nae, no one else has been told. I dinnae think it’s a good idea to talk about it to anyone, especially her.”

“Why? Are you afraid that’s what troubles her so? Mayhap she wants to return to her time?”

Kendrick ran his large hands through his hair and shook his head. “You may be right, but I dinnae ken if that’s even possible. Worse, I cannae imagine letting her go.”

“Even if it’s killing her to stay? I ken you love her, man, but you must consider what the future will be like for you both if she stays in this gloomy state.” Rabbie grew still gazing at the distant hills. The cousins stood in quiet affinity, taking comfort in their shared silence. Rabbie spoke first, “I’m at a loss on what to suggest, and though I agree with the healers, like you, I want to find a solution.”

These men were used to solving every problem with precise planning, brute strength, or grim determination. Sitting quietly, waiting for events to unfold taxed every element of patience, chafing against their need for action. “Well, I’ve got other duties to attend. Let me ken if there’s anything I can do to help with Andra.” Rabbie thumped his cousin’s shoulder as he strolled away.

It was unusually warm for late autumn. An astonishingly blue sky with scattered puffy, white clouds lent a tranquil atmosphere to the day. Yet Kendrick felt no tranquility.

Beatrice approached Kendrick when he neared the keep’s entrance. “Good day, son. ‘Tis a bonny day to take Andra out for a ride.” She lifted the large basket slung over her arm. “Sunshine and fresh air might set her to rights, and we won’t have many more days like this. Winter will arrive soon enough. I had cook prepare a basket of foodstuffs and wine for a pleasant afternoon repast. It contains all of her favorites. Please, Kendrick, we are all worried for her. I’ve taken the liberty of having your horse saddled.”

His brows peaked at the recommendation. “Not a horse for her as well?” he queried. His mother didn’t fool him for a minute. She had embraced Andra completely as one of their own, and her matchmaking machinations were on full display.

“Nae, she may not be able to handle a horse as yet. It would be safer for her to ride with you. Just hold her close and take it slowly.”

Kendrick kissed his mother’s cheek. “Have I told you lately that you are the wisest of women, Mother?”

“Pish, now. Get on with you. Take that bonny lass into the sunshine and see if you cannae coax a smile back onto her sweet face.”

* * *

They rode in silence under a warm afternoon sun until they reached a high plateau dotted with pine trees overlooking the loch and rolling hills of gorse, heather, and fall grasses fading to shades of fawn and dusty greens. A large oak, still dressed in a glorious array of autumn foliage, dominated a hollow below them. Kendrick dismounted and lifted Andra down, holding her waist for a moment longer than necessary. “You’ve lost a bit of weight.” He raised a finger and gently traced under her eye. “These dark circles do not add the right color to your flawless skin, which has grown too pale by far. I’m worried Andra, please help me understand what upsets you. I’ll assist in any manner possible.”

She stepped away from him, focused on a point beyond the horizon; he suspected her gaze sought a place beyond this time. He laid a plaid at the edge of the pines and set the basket down.

“Come, sit with me. Cook has provided a veritable feast for us and there’s a verra good bottle of wine.”

* * *

Andra didn’t know how to begin talking again. If she discussed the jumbled feelings demanding release, she might start to cry, or scream, or both and would never be able to stop. She had indulged in far too much crying already.

With a withering shake she began. “I owe you an apology for my sullen behavior of late.” Her tightly fisted hands pressed into her lap, and she couldn’t look at Kendrick. “I am very sorry. I don’t usually wallow in depression, but I am overwhelmed with recent events. It seems I can’t get my groove back.” Lifting her chin, she caught the raised eyebrows and comical expression on his face.

“You cannae get your groove back? What might your groove be, exactly? It sounds most painful.” Small laugh lines etched around his mouth, even though he clearly had no idea what that phrase meant.

A small laugh slipped from her lips, followed by a choked sob that turned into hysterical laughter. She gripped her sides as tears streamed down her cheeks, sobbing and heaving for breath. This incessant crying frayed her nerves. Other than the grief following the deaths of her family members, she did not usually succumb to weeping. Although some saw her as reserved, she did not incline toward depression.

Kendrick pulled her into his embrace, rubbing her back and arms briskly with big, warm hands. “Och, now, Andra, if you dinnae stop, you’ll have me bawling in a minute, and that won’t do. Lairds are expressly forbidden to bawl.”

He kept patting her back and running his hands over her hair and body. He kissed the top of her head, her forehead, her eyelids, cheeks, and when he hit her lips, he bestowed the gentlest of kisses. His full lips slanted over hers, his tongue nudged at her lips begging entrance. When her mouth opened to him, he delved into her warm depths with an eager hunger for more. Laying her back onto the plaid, he rolled over her resting on his forearms, cupped her face with his hands, and pressed his forehead to hers.

“
Mo chroi, A ghra
, I’ve missed you, Andra.” his voice rasped with need.

My heart, my love.
Had she heard him correctly? Then his words at the battle scene came back to her. When she’d first recalled those words on waking she thought they were a figment of her imagination, or words spoken from heightened emotions in the aftermath of battle.

She traced her fingers over his face and pushed him back so she could look into his dark-blue eyes.
Love?
Yes, she saw the love. They weren’t empty words used to calm her. The sun, his warmth and professed love, slowly unburdened her heart. The heady feel of it mingled with the scent of pine to uncoil the tension and relax her, as she had not been in days.

“I love you too, Kendrick.” And she did love him, undeniably and with an aching intensity. “Nevertheless, I cannot deny that this time petrifies me; I don’t really fit in, do I? I don’t think I can ever measure up to the expectations of a woman from this era. In addition, a constant fear assails me that this time issue will tear us apart. I know I could not bear that. Everything here is so alien to life in my world. It’s definitely not like the fairytales my father used to spin. The violence and fighting—life is so very precious and yet so…precarious.”

“Ah, lass, is it really so different? Are there no battles in your time, no sickness, no strife? Tell me more about where you are from.”

He was correct, of course. Rife with more horrors of war than he could imagine, her era offered no respite from violence. But sound bites on the evening news dulled those events to no more significance than a movie watched with a certain detachment even though the loss of life was dear.

She talked and talked. All the while, he massaged her shoulders and rubbed her arms and back, as though his touch could anchor her in this new environment. Even though most of what she told him would be beyond his imagination, now that she’d started she couldn’t seem to stop. She told him about great flying machines that could carry hundreds of people, about buildings as high as mountains that rose into the clouds. But when she spoke of men who walked on the moon, he pushed away, an incredulous expression on his face. “Now you tease, lass. What you describe is too fantastic to envision, even if you came from a thousand years in the future.”

Her disclosures seemed too fantastic even to her own ears. “You must think I’m absolutely mad, but I promise you, Kendrick, every word I say is the truth, and there is so much more. Unfortunately, most of the scientific developments that led to these amazing inventions are beyond my knowledge to explain adequately.”

“My love, what you describe is incomprehensible. ‘Tis no wonder you want to return to your home. I have nothing to offer in comparison. But I am a selfish man and I dinnae want you to leave me.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

When she touched a finger to his mouth, he sucked it between his lips. “There is much in this time that appeals to me as well,” she continued, suddenly shy. “You for one thing.” She smiled. “And the peace of the countryside, the clean air and open spaces, and lack of crowds top of the list. I like the countryside, always did, even where I come from. Nevertheless, Kendrick, I worry that this time travel issue is bigger than we understand. I suspect something could occur in a flash that would hurtle me back to my home in San Francisco.”

“And...” she coughed and dropped her eyes, “since the battle, I’ve been overwhelmed with guilt, I killed three men and they haunt my dreams. I’m terrified by the nightmares that wrench me from my sleep.” She snuggled into his embrace curling against his chest, quieting for a while. The hushed rustle of wind through the trees calmed her, and the tension in his arms relaxed as well.

They lay together for some time before he responded to her admission regarding nightmares. “Lass, I can understand the nightmares. Many a warrior suffers the same and as a result, we embrace the joy of life even more fervently. You need to remember that you saved my life, you saved Michael, and even grumpy Struan, and possibly many more of our men. The enemy outnumbered us, though the superior training of our men made us well matched. Still, ‘twas a miracle we only lost six of our own warriors. You saved Isabel, Senga—three times, and Kyle. You’ve been like an angel to me and mine and those bairns.”