Chapter 7 #4
For a while they ate in companionable silence, but she soon found her gaze drifting towards the sword lying beside him in the grass.
The sight of it sent an unexpected chill through her.
A sword. An actual sword. One used for killing people.
The reality of where she was hit her all over again.
This place wasn’t a historical reenactment or a theme park.
This was a place where people carried pistols and swords.
Ronan saw her looking. “What’s wrong, lass?”
She hesitated. “I suppose it’s finally sinking in.”
“What is?”
“How dangerous this place is.”
Ronan sighed. “Aye,” he agreed. “No matter how we might wish it otherwise.”
Elodie tore up a handful of grass and began tossing it away bit by bit, trying to ignore the lethal blade lying in the grass not three feet away.
Ronan indicated her temple. “How is yer head?”
Elodie fingered the lump. “Improving.”
“And yer memories?”
Elodie hesitated. “Not so good.” Her insides twisted with guilt. She hated lying to him but how could she possibly explain the truth?
Hello, Ronan. I don’t have memory loss at all. I’m just pretending because I came through a magical portal from the future and I daren’t tell you.
She began shredding another piece of grass.
A few days ago she’d had a life. Now what did she have?
She was surviving moment by moment, not thinking about what might come next.
For a heartbeat, she almost told him. She almost let it all come tumbling out, the truth about her meeting with Irene MacAskill, of stepping through that strange shimmery gateway, of traveling hundreds of years from the future. Almost.
But fear closed her throat. How could she tell him? He would think she was insane. Or a liar. Or both.
She swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I wish I remembered more.”
“Dinna fash. We’ll figure it out.”
We. Not you. As if she wasn’t in this alone. As if he was in it with her. A warmth spread inside her, oozing like warm honey.
A bell rang in the distance and Ronan groaned. “The meeting.”
Elodie curled an eyebrow. “You don’t have to look quite so pleased.”
“I’d rather shoe a hundred horses.”
He stood and offered her a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. With the dogs trotting along behind, they headed into the village where they found everyone waiting for them.
The entire settlement, it seemed, was packed into the open space near the center of the Steading, all chatting and squabbling, and vying for space. Yet they quieted like expectant children as Ronan approached.
He didn’t bother with any polite preamble or introductions.
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he began.
“I dinna wish to hear what our problems are: we know that already. What we’re here to discuss are solutions.
Those of ye who Elodie tasked to compile inventories of what we already have, please speak. ”
And so the reports began. Population counts, material inventories, lists of damaged buildings.
Ronan listened carefully to every speaker, making sure they weren’t interrupted and nobody talked over them.
He asked questions, clarified details, and effortlessly focussed the villagers’ attentions on possible solutions.
Elodie listened intently to the answers the villagers gave, her brain slipping into planning mode.
She began writing in the dirt with a stick, calculating the best way to use the resources the Steading already had.
She worked out how many people each building could adequately house.
She worked out what materials they would need and how much.
She worked out the order in which things needed to be done and how many people were needed to do them.
By the time the reports stopped, she’d filled the dirt by her feet and for several yards in each direction with diagrams and lists. She looked up to find the villagers staring at her in surprise. So was Ronan.
“I think we can do it,” she said, brow furrowing in thought. “If we rebuild these collapsing barns here and here, and then use the timber from this old house here, I think we can house everyone pretty quickly.”
Ronan crouched next to her, his blue eyes studying the sketches on the ground. “I canna make head nor tail of this. Ye think it will work?”
Elodie nodded. “I think so. It’s just basic geometry and mathematics really. Sounds complicated but isn’t.”
He snorted softly. “I’ll have to take yer word for that. But if ye think it will work, that’s good enough for me.” He rose to his feet. “Seems like we have a plan,” he said to the crowd. “Good work, everyone. We’ll meet back here in the morning and begin work.”
Elodie rose to her feet as the crowd began to disperse.
“That was impressive, lass,” Ronan said.
Elodie shrugged. “It’s mostly just common sense.”
“If that’s so then ye seem to possess more of that rare quality than most.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Ronan!” someone called from down the street. “We’ve got a problem with the eastern barn roof supports.”
Ronan sighed. “What I wouldnae give to have my kingdom peaceful for one day.”
Elodie snorted. “You’d hate it.”
“Aye, but it would be nice to try it.” He nodded a farewell then walked off towards this latest crisis.
Elodie watched him go, wondering what exactly was happening between them. Because whatever it was, it felt increasingly difficult to ignore.