Four hours later, when Quincy took a break for lunch, he went home to find his wife and sister-in-law finishing off one bottle of wine and about to pull the cork on another. They were both giggling hysterically when he walked in; then there was sudden silence. Quincy knew damned well they’d been talking about sex—and he had no doubt that his name had come up more than once. He wondered what Ceara said about their lovemaking. He had no complaints on that front. Being with Ceara . . . well, he couldn’t think of enough adjectives to do the wonder of it justice, and he had every reason to believe that Ceara felt the same. Still, what a woman conveyed to her lover might be totally different from what she confided to a female friend. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with their love life getting frequent public airings, but the knowledge that his brothers and brother-in-law were in the same boat made it less embarrassing.
“You girls take it easy with that wine, okay?” he said with a warning note. “Ceara’s a lightweight.”
* * *
The moment Quincy finished eating and left the house, Ceara and Loni burst into fits of laughter again. Feeling delightfully warm from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, Ceara grabbed the new wine bottle to refill each of their goblets.
“So last night, ye got the
wham-bam
, and no more milquetoast.”
Loni sighed dreamily. “It was so fabulous, Ceara. I feel so
alive
this morning. I can’t explain it, but with that part of our marriage on a back burner, I didn’t feel complete.” Gentle blue eyes growing misty, Loni searched Ceara’s gaze. “Are you happy with Quincy? I mean really,
really
happy?”
Ceara nodded. “I couldna be happier.” Even as she said the words, though, Ceara felt a tug on her heart. “Well, ’tis not
precisely
true. One thing could make me happier: seeing me dear family again.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “Me sister, Brigid, will be turning three and ten soon. I’ll ne’er see her as a woman full grown, ne’er whisper to her of secret things as I can with ye. ’Tis a sad thing fer me. And, ach, how I miss me mum. I’d give a king’s ransom in gold to see her just one more time and kiss her soft cheek.” Tears stung at the back of Ceara’s eyes. “Me da, he is old, at the last of his life. ’Twas always me thought that I would be at his bedside as he passed on. Now that can ne’er be.”
Loni blinked and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Are you certain there’s no way for you to ever return there?”
Ceara waved her hand, knowing she would surely start to cry if they didn’t speak of other things. “’Tis impossible. I knew that before I decided to come here. And now I couldna leave me Quincy. ’Twould fair break me heart.” She forced a smile. “So let us laugh again. ’Tis too fine a day to be sad.”
Loni nodded and steered their conversation to another topic—how her serious, conventional husband had gone totally wild last night when she slipped Mr. Midas from under her pillow.
When their mirth finally ebbed, Ceara reached across the table to grasp Loni’s hand. “’Tis so blessed I am. Though I left behind one dear family, God has seen fit to give me another one.”
Loni grinned. “Sisters always.” Then her eyes went oddly blank for a long moment. “He’s still alive, Ceara. Your da, I mean.” Her smile widened. “Oh, how cool! He’s with your mum in a little room. They’re leaning over what looks like a crystal ball and seem very happy.” Loni blinked and refocused on Ceara’s face. “I think they’re watching us.”
Ceara turned her hand to clench Loni’s fingers. “Truly? Ye mean right now?”
Loni nodded. “Wave hello to them.”
Feeling a little silly, Ceara used her free hand to do just that, watching Loni’s eyes grow distant again. With a tinkling laugh, Loni returned to the moment. “It’s true. They saw you and waved back. Your mum blew kisses, and your da is about to cry. Happy tears, though, not sad ones. He’s just so glad to see you and know you’re okay.”
Ceara’s heart panged. “Me mum always blows kisses. ’Tis her way, ye ken? And me da—well, he was a mighty warrior in his day, a man who deserves to be head of his clan, but he’s ne’er been ashamed to shed a tear or two when he’s happy or sad.”
“He’s very happy right now. My goodness, what time is it in Ireland? I saw a window—more like a stone arch in the wall, actually, with no glass or anything, and it looked dark outside.” Loni pulled her hand free of Ceara’s and drew her phone from the case at her waist. “World clock,” she murmured. “Ah, here’s one, and I’ll sort by country. Right now in Dublin, it’s nine twenty p.m., eight hours later than it is here.”
Ceara closed her eyes on a happy sigh. Feeling a connection with her parents was a grand thing, indeed. “So when we go to Mass tomorrow at noon, ’twill be eight in the evening there.”
“That’s right.” Loni chuckled. “You see? They aren’t lost to you, after all.”
“Thank ye,” Ceara whispered. “I shall be pestering ye from now on to peek in on them and let me know how they’re doing.”
“Anytime,” Loni replied. Then she shivered slightly. “Isn’t this too weird? I actually
saw
them, as if they are alive right at this very moment.” With a shake of her head, she looked inquiringly at Ceara. “Not possible, right? They existed hundreds of years ago.”
’Twas a mystery Ceara couldn’t explain. “’Tis only fer God to understand. Somehow they are, just as we are. Mayhap there are many worlds of different times, and we simply do na ken that they exist. We see only our time, see only this world, and in their time they see only theirs.”
Loni frowned, pondering the possibility. “That’s true so far as it goes, but obviously it’s not entirely right. Your mum can see you here in this world through her crystal ball, and I can see them in their world by touching your hand and homing in on them.”
“Ach, but me mum is druid, and so are ye. That makes all the difference, ye ken? We be different from others and have special gifts.” Again, Ceara felt a tug on her heart. “Me gifts are near lost to me now, but at one time, they were powerful.”
“In this day, having
gifts
can be a curse, so don’t mourn the weakening of your powers too greatly. For much of my life, I felt like a pariah. Then I met Clint, and he made me see things differently.” With a laugh, Loni rose from her chair. “All my life, I’ve thought of myself as being a clairvoyant, never suspecting it went any further than that. Perhaps you’re right, though, and my family is of druid descent. We can trace our lines directly back to Scotland.” She took her empty wineglass to the sink and rinsed it out. “Regardless, clairvoyant or druid, I’ve got to get home. Dee Dee and Dad will be bringing my kids back soon, and Clint will have his hands full if I’m not there. His work with the horses keeps him pretty busy.”
“’Tis pleased I am that ye came.” Ceara meant that with all her heart. “Through yer eyes I saw me mum and da. ’Tis a lovely gift ye’ve given me.”
Loni turned at the door to hug Ceara good-bye. “We’ll do it again soon. I’ll be happy to check in on them anytime you wish.”
“I shall wish for it often.”
After Loni left, Ceara stood at the center of the kitchen, hugging her waist. She felt more at peace than she had since her arrival in this strange world of Quincy’s. Imagining her mum gazing at her through the crystal ball, Ceara spun in a circle, grinning and waving at empty air.
“Da, cover yer ears. ’Tis a private thing I wish to say to Mum.” She waited a moment, imagining her da laughing as he left the tiny tower room where her mum surveyed the land all around the keep and another world through her crystal ball. “Ye ne’er told me how fine ’tis to be married,” Ceara said in a scolding tone. “I expected me wifely duties to be a chore I would dread, na something magical or so fabulous and fun.” Taking a seat at the table, Ceara poured herself a bit more wine, pretending that her mum sat across from her just as Loni had moments ago. “I tell ye this only to wipe all worry from yer mind, not to make yer ears burn. Me Quincy is so romantic that sometimes I get tears in me eyes as we make love. Other times, he has me giggling. Our times together, they’re ne’er the same, and I look forward to them like a child yearning fer a favorite sweet. Mayhap ye ne’er shared how special it can be with a man who possesses yer heart because ye feared ’twould ne’er happen that way fer me. But ye were wrong, Mum. I had only to come forward in time to find meself a man as fine as Da.”
Ceara lifted her glass. “’Tis scandalous of me to talk to ye of such things, I ken, but ’tis different here. The women share secrets. I have an empty place in me heart because I canna do the same with ye. To Sir Quincy, me husband. He has brought joy into me life.” Ceara took a sip of wine to make the toast official. “Me heart does a happy jig every time I clap eyes on him. I’m fair happy, Mum; I truly am. Ye need na be troubled or worried fer me. I landed in a place where I am cherished and protected by a verra strong arm.” With another lift of her goblet, Ceara added, “Many strong arms. Quincy’s da calls me daughter. Quincy’s brothers call me sister. I lost me dear family in Ireland, but I have a new one here in this place.”
Ceara paused, trying to think what else she needed to say. She sensed that her mum was still watching, listening, smiling, but it was fair late in Ireland, and she would soon seek her bed to rest her weary bones.
“Tell Brigid I will celebrate her name day. ’Tis beyond me ken that she will soon be thirteen. ’Tis how they say it here, instead of saying three and ten. Tell her to stop chewing her nails, will ye? And cuff her ears if she farts and blames it on poor ol’ Rascal.” Ceara glanced down at the dogs lying about her feet. “As ye can see, I have lovely dogs here in this time, too. This is Billy Bob.” She pointed at the sleeping Aussie to her left. Then she indicated the other dog to her right. “And this is Bubba, who truly did fart until I made Quincy start feeding them
real
food. Ach, ’tis another thing I must tell ye. I canna cook here in the ovens yet, Mum. I try, and Quincy eats it, but ’tis fair horrible. They do na cook over a fire here. I tried to make bread in one of his skillets over what he calls a gas flame, but ’tis not the same. I ended up with black lumps that I tossed away.”
Ceara went on to tell her mother of other things—water coming out of the walls, lights in the ceiling that weren’t candles, about the strange power Quincy called electricity, and the wagons that moved without any horses to pull them.
“I have me very own computer now,” she told her mum. “It tells me many things, some of which I dinna ken. New lands with strange names that dinna exist in our time. ’Tis fair miraculous. I’ll tell ye about that next time. I ken ’tis growing late where ye are, and ye’re weary.” She sent best wishes to her brothers, and then, with a catch in her voice, she added, “And tell Brigid fer me that every time I think of her dear face, me heart warms with gladness. Give Da a hearty hug from me, and ask him to kiss yer soft cheek fer me afore ye drift off to sleep.”
“Who the hell are you talking to?”
Ceara jumped with a start. She hadn’t heard Quincy enter, but there he stood, staring at her with worry in his dark eyes. “Me mum.”
“Yer mum? Shit, I’m starting to talk like you do. You’re rubbing off on me.” He sat across from her in the chair Loni had recently vacated. “How can you be talking to your mum? I don’t get it.”
Ceara lifted her glass to him. “She is watching me through her crystal ball. Loni saw her and Da, happy as weevils in the flour to be seeing me. ’Tis like television, me mum’s ball. Ye can see and hear, just like in yer movies.”
“Really?”
“Really, ’struth.” Ceara wagged her fingers at the air. “G’night, Mum. ’Tis time to turn off yer television. Me husband is to home, and I’ve a mind to take him upstairs to our bedchamber.”
“You do?” Quincy gave her a long study.
Ceara stood up and wobbled on her feet. “Yep.” She giggled and curled her little finger at him. “Come hither, me man. Yer wife has plans fer ye.”
He shot up from his chair and circled the table to grab her elbow. “Well, shit. You’re drunker than a lord.” While he held her arm, he plucked his cell phone from his belt. “Did Loni walk home in this condition?”
“Yep, I am thinking so. I didna drink two bottles of wine all by meself.”
Quincy speed-dialed Clint and nearly shouted into his cell, “Go check on your wife. She’s got close to a whole bottle of wine under her belt, and she’s walking home.” Quincy curled a strong arm around Ceara’s shoulders. “No, I’m not saying she’s drunk for sure, only that my wife can barely stand up, and the two bottles of wine on my kitchen table are definitely dead soldiers.”
Ceara leaned against her husband, enjoying his hardness and warmth. He ended his conversation with his brother and encircled her with both his arms. “Sweetheart, you may have the mother of all hangovers in the morning. What possessed you and Loni to start drinking so early in the day and kill two jugs of vino?”
“’Twas a hen party.” Ceara burped. She giggled and tipped her head back to study Quincy’s dark, handsome face. “A
mini
, but we made the best of it. Now that ye’re done with silly questions, will ye take me upstairs and put on yer seduction outfit?” Another belch rolled up from her belly. Embarrassed, she pressed her fingertips over her lips. “Me apologies, Sir Quincy. ’Tis verra unladylike to burp aloud.”
“I have a very bad feeling that my seduction outfit had better stay on ice. Before the night is over, I’ll be holding your head over the toilet. You’ll be a very sorry girl come morning. Drinking can run up and bite you on the ass, sweetheart. You can’t guzzle wine like it’s soda pop.”
“What is soda and why does it pop?”
Ceara felt him sweep her up against his chest. Trusting in the safe cradle of his arms, she let her head rest on his shoulder.
Bump, bump
. Her cheek bounced against his collarbone as he ascended the stairs. Somewhere along the way, she fell asleep, and all remained dark until she woke up with a demon inside her head and her face only inches above the blue water in the toilet bowl.
“Jesus save me,” she heard Quincy mutter. Then a cold cloth covered her face. She sputtered, gagged, and then went limp. “I barely got you to the toilet in time. I thought only college kids did this kind of shit.”