“We,” Grace interrupted.
Shona smiled at her sister. “Wethink ye have caught his attention, and Grace made me realize that is a good thing.”
“I do nae think—”
“Just listen for a minute,” Shona said, to which Deirdre nodded. “When I was snatched back to this time five years ago, Reikart was deeply in love with a woman named Amanda.”
“I do nae think he’d like ye telling me this,” Deirdre said, feeling sure he would not but not wanting to offend Shona. When they’d been riding the day before, she’d heard them speaking of the woman, of course, but she had been eavesdropping.
“See,” Grace said, “I told ye she will be good for him. She’s got steel in her.”
“I’m standing right beside ye,” Deirdre said to Grace. “I hear ye.”
Grace chuckled. “And sharp claws,” she added. “He’ll nae be able to push her away if she truly wants him.”
“The two of ye are nae making any sense,” Deirdre said, moving away from them and into the cool water. She gasped as it stole her breath. Hiking up her skirts farther, she squatted, dipped her hands in the stream, and began to wash her arms and legs, having to clench her teeth against the cold. She stared at the towering trees, mostly bare after winter had stolen their leaves. Sunlight slanted down from above, making the trees look almost beautiful with their weathered, dark trunks, despite all their flaws. Come the spring, their leaves would reappear, and it would be as if they started life again anew. Her toes curled against the pebbled floor of the stream, and her pulse raced within her. She wanted to attribute her pounding heart to the cold, but she refused to lie to herself, not again. Lying to herself had almost cost her Maggie.
She wanted to be like a tree. She wanted a spring that would start her life again and make her new. And Shona’s and Grace’s words, however foolish, had stirred a tiny sliver of hope she had not even realized still dwelled within her. It was ridiculous. She was not a silly young girl who believed in the stories her mother had woven at bedtime, stories of men who would do anything for the women they fell in love with, men who could love a woman for nothing more than the woman herself. Her mother had found such a love, but she was the only woman Deirdre knew who could make such a claim.
Deirdre shivered as Shona and Grace moved into the stream on either side of her. They squatted without a word and began to wash themselves. Deirdre was glad for the absence of conversation as she grappled with her thoughts. She was no princess of tales to be told at bedtime. She was flawed. She could be selfish, though she was trying not to be. She feared for her future, though she would never allow that fear to cause her to turn a blind eye again. And she was stubborn, as Reikart had teasingly pointed out.
“The woman my son loved died in an accident,” Shona said, her voice like a clap of thunder in the silence. The birds must have thought so as well. They fluttered from their perches in the trees, chirping loudly as they took flight and burst across the blue sky in streaks of white, gray, and black. After they were gone, and it was silent once more, Shona went on. “He blames himself. Rhys had told me so, but I didn’t realize the extent of it until yesterday when I spoke with Reikart himself. His brother also told me that Reikart had pushed everyone away since Amanda died. He’s become distant and cold when he used to be so warm.”
Deirdre’s chest squeezed for him. Life could make you want to put up a barrier between yourself and anything that could cause you pain. She understood that all too well.
“And apparently he no longer sleeps,” Shona added. “Rhys said he sleeps no more than four hours a night and fitfully at that. Rhys overheard Reikart talking to his doctor—healer—about it, so Reikart is not aware that any of us know. But last night, with ye, he slept for a long time—peacefully.”
“He is exhausted,” Deirdre replied. “It does nae have anything to do with me.”
“We,” Shona said, smiling at her sister, “think it does. And if ye are what will bring my son back to life, I welcome ye with open arms.”
Deirdre frowned. “I do nae have anything to offer yer son. I do nae have land or wealth, and soon I will nae even have family here if my sister travels with ye to the future.” She could hardly believe she was even saying such things.
“Ye are perfect,” Shona said. “Ye have no ties to keep ye here, but in the twenty-first century, ye’ll have your sister, and I will have two of my sons wed to women who are not like the modern women who just want my sons for their money, their social status, their—”
“I can’t believe this.”
Deirdre gasped at Reikart’s deep, angry voice that cut through the air. Heat burned her cheeks, making the skin sting. She didn’t want to rise, to turn to face him, but she refused to cower in embarrassment. She’d swallowed enough shame to last a lifetime. She prayed he didn’t think talk of a betrothal had been her idea.
As she turned, so did his mother. Their gazes collided, the woman winked at her. Deirdre cringed. Now Reikart would think she’d been conspiring with his mother!
“Son, what is it ye can’t believe?”
“Give me a break, Mom.” Reikart offered his mother a contemptuous look. “I can’t believe you’re trying to…to—” He threw his hands up in the air and looked from his mother to Deirdre and back to his mother. “What the hellareyou trying to do, anyway?”
“Secure you a good wife,” his mother said, plunking her hands on her hips and glaring at him.
Reikart’s jaw slid open, and then his lips pressed together in a hard line, which made Deirdre shift with discomfort. With his eyes narrowing and the tic in his jaw, the pause in his response seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, his turbulent blue gaze settled on her. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to marry you.”
She was furious at how ridiculously vulnerable she felt in this moment. She yanked her familiar guards back up, shot him a look that she hoped froze his bollocks, and said in the chilliest tone she could muster, “And please do nae take this—how is it ye said it?—thewrong way. I believe ye mean do nae take offense, aye?”
“Yes,” he said, the word tight.
“Excellent. I never said I wanted to wed ye, ye conceited, arrogant, clot-heid of a man. I’m certain ye will find this hard to believe, because men find any instance that a woman is nae falling over herself to please them hard to comprehend, but I do nae want a husband. And if I did, it would nae be ye.”
Never mind that she didn’t even really know him; she’d added that last bit in reaction to what he’d said to her. It felt good to say. She felt freed, strong in a way she never had before. All her mother’s tales had involved a woman being rescued by a man. She realized, standing here now, that she had expected that, waited for it, and hoped for it her whole life. She was done. No one would be rescuing her. She was going to have to do that herself.
Chapter Twelve
