Chapter 19 #2
She looked out at Cameron fighting Ian with an energy that belied the hours he’d spent already with Patrick, then turned back to her brother-in-law.
“It seems there are times when a pair of people use the same gate and don’t wind up at the same destination time wise.
This is especially inconvenient when one of the pair has his skull half bashed in and loses all memories of the woman he said he loved. ”
Patrick closed his eyes briefly. “Ach, Sunny, I’m sorry.” He smiled at her, pained. “Did you think a little swordplay might jog his memory?”
“I hoped so, but it doesn’t look to have helped, does it?” She stared at Cameron. “Do you like him?”
“He’s a Cameron and I’ve fed him twice. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me that you’re a prince,” she said honestly. “I’m so happy my sister found you.”
“Thank you, Mistress Lobelia,” he said dryly.
She smiled, then felt her smile fade. “Please let me come tell Maddy the rest. You can tell her what I’ve told you here, if you like, but let me give her the details.”
“She’s guessed this much already, actually. And you should know that she was torn this morning between telling me to beat him senseless and begging me to leave something left of him for you to have.”
“He’s engaged.”
“Death, Sunshine, is the only thing that is final.”
“Are you telling me you’re leaving your marriage vows up for negotiation?” she asked.
He looked so shocked that she smiled.
“Answer enough,” she said. “And just so you know, that’s the kind of man I want. One who looks horrified at the thought of leaving me. But until I find one, I’ll thank you for being kind to that one out there.”
Patrick shrugged. “Anything for family. Even being civil to a Cameron,” he added with a wink before he turned back to watch the carnage.
Sunny watched as well until the morning turned into afternoon.
She’d fetched water several times, as well as a snack or two.
It was well into the afternoon before Cameron cried peace.
She watched Ian clasp hands with Cameron before they came off the field.
They were both absolutely drenched in sweat.
She tried not to think anything of Cameron coming over to stand next to her rather than Patrick.
She ignored the way he touched her arm when he asked very politely for a drink.
She didn’t dare look at him, standing so close to her in just Patrick’s shorts, as she handed him his shirt.
Ian clapped him on the shoulder. “Come back whenever you like,” he said with a grin. “I won’t even charge you for my time.”
“Good of you,” Cameron said easily.
Ian only laughed, kissed Sunny on both cheeks, then leaned in close. “I like him,” he said loudly.
She wanted to tell him to be quiet, but he escaped before she could. He collected his other sword from Cameron, then walked back off to his house, humming pleasantly.
Patrick watched Cameron for a moment in silence, then looked at her. “You can bring that lad there to supper, I suppose. Perhaps he’ll tell us where he learned that fairly passable swordplay of his. I’m sure we’d both find the answer enlightening. Don’t dawdle, you two.”
He took his sword in hand and jogged off toward his house. Sunny watched him go, then looked up at Cameron. He was watching her warily, as if he waited for some sort of reaction he wouldn’t particularly care for.
“Well?” he asked, finally. “What did you think?”
She started to tell him that she’d been very impressed, then realized that it didn’t matter if she’d been impressed or not. The facts were still the same as they had been that morning.
He was not free.
“I’m with Patrick in wondering where you learned that kind of swordplay,” she said finally, “but I don’t suppose you’ll tell me.”
“When I know how you’ll react,” he began slowly, “then I’ll tell you.”
“Before or after you’re wed?”
He sighed lightly. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”
“Why aren’t you with her?”
He looked at her so seriously, she wished she hadn’t asked. In fact, not having the answer to that was probably the best thing she’d done all day.
“I don’t want to know,” she said briskly, walking away. “Have a nice dinner at Patrick’s.”
“You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“No. I’m going home.”
“Why?”
“I’m tired,” she said. She wasn’t, but it was easier to tell him that than the truth, which was that in spite of all her fine resolutions she loved him as much as she always had, but having him in the future didn’t matter one bloody bit because he was just as out of her reach as he would have been if he’d been stuck 650 years in the past.
Time traveling sucked.
She would tell Jamie that the next time she saw him.
“I’ll see you home safely—”
“I don’t need your help.”
He made a noise of impatience. “Why won’t you allow me to take care of you?”
“Because you already have a woman you should be taking care of.” She walked faster, but his legs were longer than hers so it didn’t do her any good. “Go do that.”
“She doesn’t like me.”
She almost stopped and gaped at him, but managed to suppress the impulse. “She’s an idiot, then.”
“Thank you,” he said, sounding as if he were smiling. “Now, give in gracefully, Sunshine, and let me make you dinner.”
“Go make your fiancée dinner.”
“She doesn’t like my cooking any more than she likes me.”
She shot him a look. “I’m not going to be your refuge, my lord.”
He looked at her in surprise, but she didn’t see any other expression he might have worn past that because she turned her face away and stomped off. And like clockwork, it started to rain.
She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised.
In time, she trudged past Patrick and Madelyn’s rock wall. Madelyn was standing just outside the front door, waiting for them.
“Still coming for dinner?” she called.
“No,” Sunny said loudly. “I’m going home.”
“Cameron, are you—”
Sunny pushed her damp hair back from her face and glared at her sister. Madelyn held up her hands in surrender.
“Never mind,” she said. “Want your clothes though, Cameron?”
Sunny heard Cameron start across the courtyard and wondered if she could possibly outrun him and get her door locked before he caught up. She decided abruptly that it was worth a try.
He was, she found, very fast indeed.
By the time she reached her house, she was gasping for breath, soaked, and furious. She couldn’t decide when it was that she’d become so angry, nor could she decide whom she was most angry at: Cameron, Penelope, or the damned time gate that had thrown everything into such disarray.
Then again, that gate had given her a brief slice of eternity with the man who had pulled her back to a walk a hundred paces ago and was now crowding under the eaves of her house with her, so perhaps she didn’t have as much to complain about as she thought.
Cameron wouldn’t let her open the door. He did it himself, shivered as he crossed the threshold, then turned on the lights. He looked in her bathroom, glanced in the kitchen, then came back to the front door.
“All safe.”
“No one comes here,” she said, struggling to catch her breath.
“There’s always a first time,” he said, drawing her inside. “Come and sit, lass.”
She didn’t bother to fight him any longer.
She couldn’t throw him out bodily and she suspected he was determined to at least feed her before he left of his own volition.
She let him lead her over to the hearth, then collapsed rather gratefully in a chair and watched while he made her a fire.
She watched him a bit more as he walked into her kitchen and started poking around in her fridge.
She decided right then that time travel didn’t just suck, it was the most horrible, gut-wrenching, monstrous thing ever discovered on MacLeod soil. Never mind that Madelyn, Elizabeth, and Jane had had it work out well for them.
She didn’t like being the exception.
She wanted to look away from Cameron, but she just couldn’t. She wished desperately that he could have been there in truth, not just on clandestine loan.
He puttered, he hummed, he whistled, he even stopped for a moment and looked off into space as if he tried to remember a melody before he nodded to himself and sang as he chopped.
She wondered if her eyes would ever stop burning.
He finished, came out with a plate in his hand, then stopped in surprise when he saw her. “My singing?” he asked.
She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “It was lovely.”
“Then you’re weeping because you liked it?” he asked, obviously baffled.
“I’m tired.”
“You continue to say that, but I’m starting not to believe it.” He put a plate of an amazingly lovely salad on her lap and handed her a fork. “Eat. You’ll feel better after you do.”
“This looks wonderful,” she said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He fetched his own plate, then drew up a wooden chair next to hers and sat down. “Can’t guarantee the dressing, though. You don’t have anything with fat in there.”
“Bad for my—”
“Chi,” he finished. “So you said before.” He slid her a sideways look. “Don’t you ever long for an enormous order of fish and chips, woman?”
She took a deep breath. “Now and again.”
“Do you indulge?”
“Now and again.”
He smiled and set to his salad.
Sunny ate what she could, but it was difficult to eat when all she wanted to do was blubber.
Cameron finished, watched her for a minute, then finally took her plate away and put it in the fridge for her. He quickly cleaned the kitchen, then came back to her and held down his hands.
She looked up in surprise. “What?”
“I’m putting you to bed.”
She let him pull her to her feet. “But, Cam—”
He looked at her as if she’d slapped him. “What did you call me?”
“Cameron,” she amended. Good grief, she was really going to get herself in trouble if he didn’t go soon. She pulled away. “I can get myself to bed.”
“I know you can,” he said patiently. “I’m being gallant. Now, go get your nightclothes on, woman, and allow me to tuck you in.”
She so desperately wanted to throw her arms around him and cry until she couldn’t cry anymore.
Why had she ever thought her life was terrible that night Tavish Fergusson had fired her?
It would have been so much better if she’d never seen Cameron mac Cameron, never felt his arms around her, never had him lift her face so he could kiss it.
He was so much what he had been. Chivalrous. Protective. Demanding.
It was killing her.
He turned her toward the bathroom. “Go change.”
She did, because she was apparently incapable of arguing with him.
Either that, or she was simply too numb.
She changed into a pair of MacLeod plaid flannel pajamas that she’d poached from her sister’s closet before Christmas, dragged a pick through her hair, then went back out to the great room.
Cameron looked at her gravely, then slipped past her into her bathroom with his clothes.
A handful of minutes later, he emerged, dressed, with Patrick’s clothes in his hands.
“Let me go saddle my horse, then I’ll see to you.”
“I’ll be okay,” she said quickly. “I have to lock my door before I can go to bed anyway.”
He considered, then nodded and pulled his coat off the hook. He set the clothes down by the door, pulled his coat on, then paused and looked at her.
Sunny couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked at the spot under his collarbone, which was about where her nose came to. She felt him tuck some of her hair behind one of her ears.
“Sunshine . . .”
“I don’t want to be the other woman, Cameron.”
He sighed deeply. “I know.” He said nothing more for quite a while. He simply tucked hair behind her ears, strand by strand, as if he couldn’t bring himself to do it faster. “Sleep well, love.”
She nodded, but couldn’t say anything. It was all she could do to keep from weeping.
He dropped his arm, picked up his gear, then turned to let himself out the door. It closed softly behind him. Sunny bolted it, turned, and slid down to the floor. She looked, dry-eyed, into the middle of her house, Moraig’s house, that was now so empty and cold she could hardly stand it.
She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to get warm.
It was useless. She just couldn’t fathom what Cameron wanted from her, why he continued to seek her out, what she was going to do if she had to see him again.
He was not free and she didn’t want to be his refuge or a dalliance. Where did that leave them?
Maybe he would go back to London and she would be able to regroup. It was surely the only hope for what was left of her heart.
She locked her door, fetched Cameron’s plaids out of her drawer and wrapped them around herself, then went to bed.
She was too devastated to even weep.