Authors: Maeve Greyson
Trulie sank back into her pillows and closed her eyes with a smile. “You’re awesome, Sis, and you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
From the looks of the dark circles under Trulie’s eyes, Kenna had a pretty good idea. She eased out of the room and closed the door with a soft click. “Your mama needs to realize it’s okay to let people help her.”
Chloe noisily sucked on her fingers and opened her deep blue eyes even wider.
“I agree completely.” Kenna followed the owl down the hallway and descended the tower steps. “It’s high time you saw the gardens and, if we’re lucky, maybe even a butterfly or two.”
Kenna shielded Chloe’s face with a corner of the blanket as they stepped out into the bright sunshine. It was a beautiful day. Perfect weather to get some air, enjoy her sweet little niece, and, hopefully, sort through the mess of confusion tangled up in her head.
Every time Kenna remembered the bits of thoughts and memories she’d snagged from her brief viewing of Colum’s mind, her muddled emotions yanked her in a thousand directions. Indignant jealousy burned through her. Hordes of women, all in various stages of undress and moaning with pleasure, writhed around the hallways of Colum’s memories. Then just as she’d seen enough to make her want to snap his neck, she’d come across a precious memory showing just how selfless and protective the infuriating man could be.
Colum was fearless. She’d seen where he’d saved Gray’s life on several occasions. And man-at-arms or not, the man had a soft side too. Kenna had felt his pain and watched how he’d bowed his head beside a fallen warrior’s body, then struggled to relay the man’s death to his widow. She blinked away the painful scene and took a deep breath. A knot of frustration tightened in the center of her chest. Mouthwatering tingle or not, Colum was…complicated—impossible to neatly label as
Yes, he’s a keeper
or
No, he’s a jerk—get rid of him!
Kenna cuddled Chloe closer, pecking a light kiss against the downy velvet of the babe’s head. “How ’bout here, sweetie? The shade of this old tree looks like the perfect place to enjoy the garden.” She picked her way through the knobby root system splayed across the mossy ground like long arthritic fingers. Shrugging the backpack to the ground, she settled down on the low stone bench wedged into the deep “v” of the great oak’s trunk.
Chloe’s owl lit on the branch just above them, sidling up and down the gnarled limb as though inspecting and patrolling the area. The regal bird finally perched atop a knot, stretched its wings, then settled them in place with a shake.
“I think Mr. Owl approves,” Kenna said, rubbing her heels together until her doeskin shoes peeled off. She wiggled her toes against the soft, spongy carpet of moss surrounding the great tree. Thank goodness, she’d managed to talk Coira into leaving off her stockings. She hated those itchy things.
The cool velvet of the moss sent a soothing wave of contentment into her system. The ancient energy of the land, paired with the briny breeze playfully tugging on her curls, massaged the tension from her shoulders. A relieved sigh escaped her.
Yes.
This quiet time in the garden was exactly the therapy she needed.
Chloe wiggled a tiny hand free of the blanket and waved it about. She licked the tip of her tongue past her petal pink lips as though tasting the air. Her contented coo kept pace with the gentle soughing of the wind through the newly leafed out trees.
Kenna repositioned the baby in the crook of her arm and leaned back against the solid trunk of the mighty oak. “Okay, Chloe. Tell me what you really think about him. Is he evil or good? I trust your judgment completely when it comes to Mr. Muscle.”
“I can answer ye, lass. All men are both evil and good, for it takes the darkness inside a man to properly balance the light and make him whole.” Colum stepped out from behind the tree with eyes narrowed and corded arms folded across his chest. “And pray tell, who is this Mr. Muscle?”
Kenna jerked ramrod straight on the bench, immediately curling a protective arm in front of the baby. “Dammit, Colum. Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on a person and scare the living crap out of them?”
“ ’Tis no’ rude. ’Tis usually a matter of survival.” Colum slowly moved away from the massive width of the gnarled tree. “And I was here first.” The wind rippled the thin linen of his shirt across his shoulders and flapped his plaid against the muscular curve of his thighs.
Kenna wet her lips and swallowed hard. The off-white linen of Colum’s tunic made his wide expanse of hard-muscled chest and squared shoulders look as though the man had been dipped in white chocolate.
Damn, I love white chocolate
. Kenna licked her lips again. But she’d bet her favorite nail polish that a taste of Colum would beat any chocolate she’d ever eaten.
Colum’s deep, rich chuckle interrupted her erotically sweet musing.
“You were not here first. I would’ve seen you.” Lordy, she sounded like Lilia and Mairi fighting over the best spot on the couch. Kenna relaxed Chloe back into her lap, leaning the child semi-upright against her arm so the babe could enjoy a look around.
“Ye were nay lookin’ where ye walked. Ye were talkin’ to the wee one.” Colum drew closer, smiling down at the baby. He took the tip of his little finger and gently trailed it across the palm of the baby’s hand. His voice lowered to an awe-filled whisper. “Yer a bonnie wee lassie, I grant ye that.”
An aching shiver rooted deep in Kenna’s core, then heated its way through her body. She did her best to control her breathing, but if Colum couldn’t hear her heart pounding, the man was stone-cold deaf.
Colum’s gaze slid from the baby’s face and locked with Kenna’s. One corner of his smile twitched the barest bit higher. Just as Kenna feared. Colum was by no means deaf.
“I came t’find ye.” Colum knelt at Kenna’s feet, his little finger captured in Chloe’s tiny grasp. “Ye need t’ken…” Colum faltered, lowering his gaze back to the baby as she squirmed in Kenna’s lap.
Kenna waited. Colum’s pained expression made her heart swell. “I need to know what?” She struggled against the temptation to peek into his thoughts.
No. I need to play fair.
Without looking up, Colum stopped smiling and his brow puckered into a troubled scowl. “I ken ye saw my memories. Ye witnessed all that I have done.” He weakly waved his free hand as though shooing away a fly. “The MacKenna explained yer gift, and I ken what ye must surely think of me.”
How could he know what she thought of him when she didn’t even know herself? Yes, she’d seen a lot about the man kneeling at her feet that she wished she hadn’t. No amount of brain bleach would ever erase some of those erotic scenes. But she’d also seen a better side to the man. A side she might never have known if she hadn’t walked through his mind. She hadn’t missed the moments of intense loyalty, pride, and courage. When Colum was taken over by his emotions, he felt strongly and deeply. Kenna shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know what I think of you.”
Colum inched closer and, ever so slowly, reached for her. His voice returned to the low, deep whisper of just moments ago as his hand gently cupped her face. “All I ask is for a chance t’make ye see.”
“Make me see what?” Kenna fought the urge to lean forward to meet him, the honey caress of Colum’s rich voice mesmerizing her into a blissful state of breathless cooperation.
“Make ye see that I can change. I’m no’ the man I once was. I’m no’…evil.” Colum’s warm lips brushed across hers, triggering a burning ache deep within, a delicious hotness that swirled through her like sensual lava.
An indignant
rowr
vibrated up between them. Colum rocked back on his heels as though he’d been slapped. Chloe batted both little fists back and forth, her small round face turning a deeper red as she twisted and growled again.
“Oh my. What a face.” Kenna cradled Chloe higher against her chest and rocked back and forth. “Shh…now. Uncle Colum wasn’t ignoring you. He was just talking to me for a little bit.”
“Apparently, the tiny lass doesna tolerate inattention.” Colum rose, smiling down at the red-faced infant.
“Very few women do.”
A none-too-fragrant aroma wafted up from the blankets as Chloe squirmed even more. Kenna wrinkled her nose against the ever-increasing stink. “Shew, I think I know what the problem is, and it’s not that she was being ignored.”
Colum’s nostrils flared. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth and nose and took a step back. “How can somethin’ so small create such a stench?”
Kenna blinked against the strong odor as she opened the blankets and lowered both blanket and baby to the soft cushion of the moss at her feet. She pointed to the backpack sitting beside the bench. “Hand me that bag.”
Still holding the back of his hand across his mouth and nose, Colum looped a finger through the handle of the backpack, plopped it beside Kenna, then quickly retreated several steps away. “I’ll fetch one of the maids to tend to the babe and get her clean.”
“I don’t need any help changing a diaper.” Kenna unzipped the bag and fished out a colorful bundle, then glanced around before she pulled out a modern-day canister of baby wipes. “Don’t you dare tell anyone you saw these. Granny already chewed me out for bringing all this stuff to Trulie.”
Colum frowned down at the white canister and the rainbow-striped pair of snap cloth diapers. “What do ye mean to do with those things?”
“Hold your breath and see.” Kenna took her own advice, barely puffing in and out between parted lips. Trulie had warned her about little Miss Chloe’s unpleasant surprises. She unsnapped the soiled cloth from about Chloe’s waist, clamping her mouth shut and holding her breath as she quickly rolled the messy diaper into a wad. She popped the top on the baby wipes and completed mop-up operations.
Chloe gurgled and cooed, kicking her tiny feet to and fro after Kenna laid her back on the blanket-covered moss, a bright clean diaper snapped in place. She fished a leather bag from the backpack, all the while wishing she had smuggled back a box of zip-top plastic bags along with the other contraband. As quickly as possible, she shoved the soiled cloth diaper into the leather pouch and yanked the strings closed. “There. All done. Do you want to hold her now that she’s clean?”
Colum backed up another step, repeatedly glancing toward the pouch holding the foul diaper as though he feared Kenna would throw it at him. “Nay. I dinna ken a thing about bairns. She looks right content where she lies.”
Kenna scooted over to the tree and placed the aromatic pouch between a couple of knobby roots. “I’ll tend to that later. I’ve got to hide all this stuff before someone else sees. Granny will skin me alive for bringing these things out of Trulie’s chambers.” Kenna patted a mossy spot next to her, then held up her hand. “Come sit down. Or do you have something you need to do?”
Colum’s face brightened with a relieved smile as he lowered himself to the ground. He nodded toward the articles Kenna was hurriedly stuffing into the backpack. “Why would Mother Sinclair be cross about what ye brought from yer time?”
“Because we have to be careful about changing history whenever we travel back. Promise me you won’t tell a soul.” A wave of guilt washed over Kenna. She’d violated one of Granny’s cardinal rules. Modern-day clothing was risky enough, but Kenna had brought back things that affected everyday convenience. Inconvenience, necessity, and searching for an easier way to accomplish tasks inspired humans to better their lives. It spurred their creativity to invent a solution to their problems. The items she’d smuggled back would deprive them of that natural process if anyone were to discover them.
Colum leaned over and scooped up Kenna’s hand. He stared down at it as he tickled his thumb across her knuckles. “Ye can always trust me.” He fixed gurgling Chloe with a weak attempt at a stern look and a playful wagging finger before turning back to Kenna. “Tha’s what I was tryin’ to tell ye before the wee lass soiled her trews. Ye can always trust me and know I’m a man of m’word.”
Kenna’s heart warmed and pounded faster. Whether it was from Colum’s caring touch or his camaraderie with the baby, she didn’t know, and she guessed it really didn’t matter. A firm knowing settled across her. Colum knew she could travel through time and read minds, and he didn’t care. He hadn’t run away screaming, threatened to burn her at the stake, or even acted as though he found her the least bit strange. Colum had accepted her for what she was. How could she not accept him? “I’m looking forward to getting to know the new and improved you.”
“I can ask for nothin’ more.”
Kenna forced herself to look away, busying herself with the unnecessary refolding of Chloe’s already neatly swaddled blanket. Colum’s gaze was filled with such emotion, and the deep timbre of his voice threatened to pull her in, mesmerize her into a state of total abandon. She shifted on the mossy ground, fluffing her skirts with her free hand and resettling them around her.
Damn
. Her body needed air. She was about to burst into flames.
Colum rose to his feet, then held his hand down to her. “Come. Walk with me. Surely the wee one would enjoy seeing the rest of the garden.”
Holding Chloe in one arm, Kenna slid her hand into Colum’s, and a warm sense of completeness surged through her as he helped her to her feet, then gallantly tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. A quiet chuckle escaped her.
“Ye laugh?” Colum arched a reddish blond brow at her as he led her through the tangle of tree roots.
“Sorry.” Another soft giggle escaped her. “I was just remembering how much it pissed you off the first time you offered me your arm and I didn’t take it.”
“So ye knew ye shouldha taken my arm like a proper lady?” Both his brows now arched nearly to his hairline in a mock look of disapproval.
“Well, of course I knew.” Kenna squeezed his arm with a playful shake. “But I wasn’t about to let you win the first round.” She lifted Chloe a bit higher as they reached the topmost point in the garden and looked out across the sea. “Look, sweetie. Isn’t the water pretty?”
“Win the first round, indeed.” Colum shielded his eyes and peered up at the sky. “The owl doesna approve of having the babe in the sunlight.”