“LAYLA?” ABI BREATHED, unable to quite believe her eyes. “Is that really you?”
“Abi?” Layla asked. “Have I finally lost my mind and I’m hallucinating?”
“No,” Abi said, rising from the bench. “It’s me. I’m really here. Oh God, it’s so good to see you!”
She folded her arms around her friend and buried her face in her shoulder. Layla hugged her close.
“I can’t believe this,” she murmured into Abi’s hair. “Abi. Oh, my word, Abi.”
She heard tears in her friend’s voice and she was crying too. After all this time she’d almost given up hope. Finally, Layla released her and stepped back.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes. “How did you get here?”
“That’s a long story,” Abi replied.
Layla looked well. Better than well, in fact. She looked radiant, happy. The stress that had put lines in her forehead and a frown on her face when she’d been a twenty-first century police officer were gone, replaced by a rosy look of good health. Her long hair shone, even though it was tousled from sleep and clearly needed a brush.
“Ye two know each other?” the big man asked, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown of puzzlement.
Layla nodded, laughing through her tears. “Cinead, this is Abigail Fenton, my best friend. Abi, this is Cinead Muir, my husband.”
Abi had known Layla had gotten married, of course. Reid had told her that she was his brother Cinead’s wife, but hearing it from Layla’s own lips was a whole new set of crazy.
“But...but you’ve only been here a few weeks,” she stammered. “How can you be married?”
Layla laid a hand on Abi’s arm. “Maybe it’s only been a few weeks for you,” she said. “But time travel is a funny thing. For me it’s been three years.”
Three years? What?
Abi suddenly felt dizzy and she would have staggered if Layla hadn’t darted forward to catch her.
“Come on,” her friend said decisively. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk more privately. I know this must be a lot to take in.”
Layla took her arm and guided her out of the room and through the castle, Cinead following. Dun Calas was much more opulent than Dun Treve and rather than a fortress fit only for martial purposes, this was more like a home. It had been Reid’s childhood home, she remembered.
Oh God, Reid.
Layla escorted her up a flight of stairs and then into a large room with windows on two sides. It had rugs on the floor, tapestries on the walls, and comfortable looking furniture by a fireplace. Layla helped her onto a chaise longue and sat next to her. Abi breathed deeply, trying to clear her head, trying to make sense of all of this.
She turned to look at Layla and her husband—her husband!—and took a deep breath. “So you’ve been here this whole time?”
Layla nodded. “I’m sorry, Abi. If I could have gotten word to you, I would have done. But how are you here?”
“When you went missing and I couldn’t get in touch with you, I went looking. Drove up here.”
“You mean you actually took some time off work?” Layla said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, crazy, huh? Then I met this mad old woman, walked into these castle ruins and bam! I found myself here.”
Layla shared a look with Cinead. “This mad old woman,” Layla said. “Did she have a name?”
“Irene MacAskill.”
Layla inhaled sharply. “Irene. What is she up to?”
“You know her?” Abi asked.
“We do. It was Irene that brought me here too. She told me my destiny lay here, in the past.” She glanced at Cinead again and Abi saw the love shining in her friend’s eyes. “And she was right.”
