“Lusty even in thirteenth-century Scotland, I see.”
Reikart shrugged, though his lust had not actually been aroused. It was more of an appreciation for the woman’s beauty and her obvious happiness at the prospect of getting to finally see her sister, but he sure as hell was not going to admit that. Rhys would think he was changing, and he wasn’t. He wouldn’t be getting married in this time or any other.
“How is it that you’re married?” he blurted. “Was it necessary?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Jesus, Rhys.”
Rhys chuckled. “It was necessary because I can’t live without her, and that’s all the insight I’ll be giving you.”
Astonisheddid not begin to cover how Reikart felt, but since he wasn’t one to blather on about his own feelings, he wasn’t about to ask his brother to do the same. “So,” he said, rocking back on his heels, feeling as uncomfortable as he always did when feelings were involved.
Rhys grinned. “I see traveling through time has not changed how much you hate to talk about emotions.”
“Observant as always, bro. Catch me up quickly. I have a feeling that Dermot will want to go soon.”
Rhys nodded. “Youneedto go soon. If Bellecote paid someone to kill Mom and Aunt Grace, then you guys need to get to Hightower. Mom and Aunt Grace are being heavily guarded, and Donald MacKinnish won’t know Mom is, well, Mom, but still.”
“What do you mean?”
“She looks pretty much like she did when we last saw her, but with a few more gray hairs maybe. She’s going by the name Ellen, as you caught by my hint, and pretending to be Mom’s sister, who everyone thought was dead, and we areEllen’ssons. The man sent to kill her won’t even recognize her.”
A hand reached into his chest and gripped his heart. It was like the hand massaged the damn organ into working a little more like it used to, which was a lot more than Reikart wanted it to. For a moment, emotion coursed through him, and it took a long, deep, concentrated breath to slow down that dangerous freight train. He knew what happened when caring met death, and he didn’t want to care that much. Damn it, but it was his mom. He wasn’t sure he could honestly keep his feelings to lukewarm, which was his preference these days. He hadn’t seen her in so long, and he felt like a twelve year old suddenly instead of a grown man.
“That’s convenient,” he finally managed to say.
Rhys nodded. “How did you—”
“I reread Mom’s and Dad’s notes a thousand times after you disappeared,” Reikart cut in. “And after Greyson disappeared, too, I started to suspect it had something to do with the Gaelic pronunciation. So I went to your apartment, found Axtell’s number, told him I wanted to prank you, and got him to tell me how to correctly pronounce the chant. Then Ian and I contacted Jeremy—”
“What?” Rhys asked, clearly astonished.
“Yeah. We had to make sure Dad and the company were taken care of.”
A hint of a smile curved Rhys’s lips for a brief moment. If Reikart didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was pride.
“Makes sense,” Rhys said. “Did Jeremy think you guys were crazy?”
“Maybe a little, but not enough to call the cops,” Reikart said with a laugh. “And if Ian time-traveled, too, and none of us can get back, Jeremy will take care of Dad and run the company.”
Worry settled around Rhys’s eyes. “How is Dad?”
“The same,” Reikart said. He hoped the regret he felt wasn’t coming across in his tone, but when Rhys clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, Reikart knew it was discernible, at least to his brother. He’d always been able to fool almost everyone else, hide behind his mask of a borderline jerk who only cared about a good time and himself. Well, except maybe Ian right before Reikart had traveled. Damn. Maybe his mask was slipping.
“Tell me about your wife and her sister.”
Rhys smirked. “You want to sleep with her.”
“No, asshole. I want to know if she’s going to try to plunge a dagger in my back.”
“It’s hard to say for certain,” Rhys said without a trace of humor. “So sleep with one eye open.” He winked.
“Are you serious or not?
“Deadly.” Rhys grinned. “Get it?”
“Damn it, Rhys.”
