Love Beyond Dreams (A Scottish Time Travel Romance): Book 6 (Morna's Legacy Series) (8 page)

“If I did know you, wouldn’t you know who I was?”

His heart sank at her answer.
 

“No, I’m afraid that I wouldna. I took a fall many moons ago, and I canna remember anything before that. I was saved by a cave dwelling lass and just this eve have left her company to go in search of who I was.”

He didn’t know enough about people to read the girl’s expression, but she looked more shocked to him now than she did when she first laid eyes on him.
 

“Are you serious, or are you just another part of the crazy that has invaded Cagair Castle over the last few days?”

He didn’t know what she was talking about.
 

“Aye, I’m verra serious. No, I doona believe that I am.”

The woman’s eyes softened toward him. Slowly, she waved him inside.
 

“Okay, then. It must be very hard for you to not remember anything.”

Once he stepped inside, she reached around him and closed the door, bumping into his chest as she did so. She stilled, and he didn’t miss the way her breath caught at the impact. He didn’t know if she was frightened or if she felt the same exquisite thump of her heart as he did—he very much hoped it was the latter.
 

“’Tis verra hard. I live with guilt for those who may have missed me, though I canna see their faces, nor do I know their names. ’Tis as if I love people I’ve never met. All I want to do is know them again.”

She didn’t step away from him. He reveled in their closeness, though he made no move to touch her. They simply stood together near the doorway.
 

“Do you know your own name?”

He looked down at her and, as she looked up at him, the words seemed to leave him. She made him nervous in a way that lit his chest on fire, turned his voice into a whisper, and made his breeches uncomfortable.
 

“No, lass. I know only what Marion called me, and she called me Craig. Ye may call me that if ye wish it.”

She smiled. He felt the warmth of it to his very core.
 

“No. Your name isn’t Craig.”

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought the name didn’t suit him. “Aye, I know that. It never seemed like my name, but she insisted she call me that. I wish I knew what it was, though my name is only one of many things I wish I knew.”

The woman’s voice when she spoke was but a whisper, but she smiled as she said it.
 

“I know what your name is. It’s Orick. Your name is Orick.”

“Just how would ye know that, lass, if ye doona know me?”

The moment he heard her utter the name, he knew it was true. He’d been called the name before. To hear it now, one small piece that felt familiar, took his breath away from him.
 

He wanted to kiss her for the joy it brought him. He wanted to kiss her for far more than that, but he refrained and looked down into her eyes while he waited for her to answer.
 

“I don’t know you. Not really. Although, I feel like I do. I know some people who know you—some people who will be very happy and quite overwhelmed to see you.”

How could he be so lucky? To find what he’d lost in his very first stop after leaving Marion. Happiness, fear, nerves, hope—so many emotions surged through him hearing such news that tears sprung to his eyes unbeknownst to him until the lass reached up to brush one from the corner of his eye.
 

He stepped back, embarrassed by his show of emotion until she reached out to give his hand a gentle squeeze.
 

“It’s okay. Of course hearing something like that would touch you. Would you like to meet them?”

“Oh, more than ye know, lass.”

She smiled at him and stepped away, nudging her head toward the staircase as she started to walk off in front of him.
 

“Good. You will, but not quite yet. Come with me.”

CHAPTER 11

I should have been frightened by the sight of a man I thought was dead and was just a few mere minutes away from trying to summon up from his grave, but I wasn’t. Startled and shocked, yes, but not scared. Instead, relief filled me—relief that he wasn’t dead and that I hadn’t been dreaming about a dead man.
 

Hope seemed to be my second heaviest emotion. Hope that maybe my foolish fantasies hadn’t been so foolish after all. Time would only tell about that, but as he followed me up the stairs, I found it difficult to look ahead rather than twisting my head the whole time to look at him.
 

He looked just as I knew he did—just as I’d painted him. Only it was an entirely different thing to see him in person. It was better. He, although I wouldn’t have thought it possible, was even more handsome in person.

Orick stood a good six inches taller than I’d imagined, and his eyes were a deeper shade of blue. It looked like the ocean when you stare down at its depths from out in the middle of its deep waters—a shade of blue that can’t be captured in any sort of crayon or stained glass window.
 

I realized as I walked ahead of him that I couldn’t even recall the clothes he wore. Was he in jeans and a sweater? Shorts and a t-shirt? Naked?
No, definitely not naked
, I thought to myself. I had to swallow to keep from laughing under my breath. I would have noticed if he were naked. Whatever he wore, I’d not taken notice of it the entire time he stood in the doorway, but I could scarcely look back now. If I did, I knew I would only find some other excuse to touch him again. I’d done enough of that in the doorway and he probably already thought it was weird.
 

At least I now knew why I’d painted him, why I’d seen him in my dreams for so many months—something meant to warn me that I would play a part in helping this man reunite with those he’d lost. It was a daunting task and one that I didn’t feel equipped to handle, for I knew the shock and adjustment for both Orick and everyone else that thought him dead would be huge. Thank God I had Anne and, as soon as he was free from his charade tonight, Aiden, to help me manage and decide what was best.
 

For now, the only realistic thing for me to do was to take him back to my bedroom and talk things over with him and Anne, see if he needed anything, and see if he had a preference as to how we handled all of this.
 

It didn’t take long to get to my room but, remembering back on Anne’s ghost comment right as we reached the door, I realized I better warn her before strutting inside with him. I turned to face him and made a point to look over his clothing as I did so. It wasn’t what I expected.

“I’m sorry, I know this is a rude question but…have you been homeless for a while? I’m just asking due to your manner of dress.”

He wore dark, fitted pants but they were worn and dirty, and his shoes looked like they belonged in a museum. His shirt fit him loosely and had multiple holes. Everything was soaked through from the rain. Now that I wasn’t so distracted by his eyes or his height or the way my heart seemed to squeeze erratically every time I touched him, I could see every curve of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was stupid pretty.
 

After goggling him, I looked up to await his answer. He seemed entirely confused by my question.
 

“I doona ken what ye mean by either yer question or yer statement of my clothes. I’m sorry if the condition of them offends ye.”

Immediately, I felt like an ass and hurried to assure him that wasn’t the case at all.
 

“Oh no, not at all. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Would you mind waiting right out here a moment? I have a friend inside. I think it’s best I warn her about you before I bring you inside.”

“Does she know me?”

I smiled, disappointed that I couldn’t tell him yes after seeing the hope in his eyes.
 

“No, but she knows of you. She’s heard talk of you, at least. It will just take me a second.”

I stepped inside quickly and shut the door quietly behind me. Anne jumped away from the window, her mouth full of pizza as she spoke.
 

“So….did you find him and give him a piece of your mind? I was trying to watch, but I couldn’t see or hear anything.”

“It wasn’t Adwen.”
 

“It wasn’t?”

“No. Are you sober enough to not freak out when I tell you who is on the other side of that door?”

She swallowed and nodded as she crossed her arms and sat down on the edge of my bed.
 

“Yes, Gillian. I didn’t have that much wine, and the pizza helped. Don’t tell me it’s the ghost.”

There was humor in her voice but, when I didn’t laugh or deny it, her tone changed considerably.

“Gillian?”

“No, it’s not a ghost, but it is the man we thought was a ghost.”

She stood and marched over to the door to open it. I stepped in her way.
 

“You’ve got to be gentle with him. This is all a lot for him, I think. He doesn’t remember anything.”

“No?” Her voice was disbelieving.

“Yes. He really doesn’t, and I don’t think he’s been living under the best of circumstances. He’s quite dirty. You’ll see. Go ahead and open the door.”

 
Anne didn’t hesitate for a moment, and she reacted in a way much like I did—goggled at him a few long seconds before doing her best to recover before pulling him inside and shutting the door.
 

“Holy moly, you look just like your painting.”

Orick’s brows scrunched together as he looked down at Anne.
 

“My painting?”

I hurried to distract him. He would learn about the painting soon enough, but I didn’t think it best to lead with it.
 

“It doesn’t matter. Why don’t you sit down? Want a piece of pizza?”

He sat as I instructed and looked at the cheesy pie as if I’d asked him to eat a live rat.
 

“What is pizza?”

The word sounded uncomfortable on his tongue.
 

“Oh boy, you don’t remember much, do you? Eat it, you’ll like it.”

I could tell he was hungry for he dug in right away. Within seconds his face grew lax with delight.

“’Tis wonderful, truly. It puts my own cooking to shame. Marion’s as well.”

He mentioned Marion often and, whether it was out of gratitude or more, I couldn’t tell but I knew that she meant a great deal to him. Although if he was truly unable to remember anything before her, she was probably the most important person in his life. I couldn’t help but wonder why he left her. Knowing that we had more pressing things to discuss, I decided to file the question away to ask him at a later time.
 

“Orick, I don’t want to overstep in any way, and I’m really not sure what is the best way to go about this, so I’ll just tell you what I know and then you let me know if you have a feeling for how you’d like to proceed.”

He nodded and kept his eyes locked right on me, ready to listen.
 

“Okay. I don’t know you and neither does Anne, but I own this castle and…”

“I’m sorry.” He interjected, and I fell silent. “Ye are laird of this castle? Marion spoke of the laird and said he was a man, no a lassie.”

“What? No, I’m not laird. Lairds don’t really exist in Scotland anymore. They haven’t for a very long time.”

I watched his reaction closely, trying my best to read him. Losing his memory was one thing, but the question made me worry for him even more. What if he’d lost touch with far more than that and with his memory his mind had gone as well?

He thought on my answer for a long moment then shifted in his seat as he seemed to accept my words.
 

“Marion may not know. She doesna live among people so I confess to no knowing myself. Carry on, lass.”

“Okay, well I own this place, and a family is renting it from me for just a few nights. I believe that they know you, though I’d rather not go into why I think that right now, but I’m certain they do. They thought you were dead, and I know it will come as a shock to them to see you.”

“Aye, I’m sure it will.”
 

I glanced over at Anne who stood leaning against the door of my bedroom, her arms crossed, as she silently took in our exchange. I hoped she would voice the perfect solution but as I watched her, I knew that she considered herself an onlooker in the strange exchange, not an active participant. I was on my own.

“I don’t think tonight would be the best time to spring it on them. Would it be okay with you if we wait until morning, give me a chance to talk to them and then bring you all together?”

Voices from downstairs suddenly seemed to approach my bedroom, and we could all tell that a commotion of sorts was taking place downstairs. Anne quickly stepped out into the hallway to check on things. A few seconds later, she re-entered with a very frustrated Aiden at her side.
 

He was visibly drained and so frustrated that he didn’t even notice Orick sitting at the small table by the door.