She closed her eyes tighter and pressed a clenched fist against her mouth. He needed to leave. She needed time to figure out what the devil had gone wrong and where she had messed up. What had she done to cause the loss of their baby?
Tears burned and gut-wrenching sobs threatened to explode free of her control every time his hand stroked across her hair. Their son. He had been so perfect, down to his tiny toes. What the hell had she done wrong? Why has she lost him?
She squeezed her eyes tighter shut and buried her face deeper into the pillow. She couldn’t allow Gray to see her collapse. Hadn’t she failed him enough? The last thing he needed right now was a hysterical woman. In fact, maybe he didn’t need her at all. Maybe he would be better off without her.
“My love,” he whispered again, raw pain echoing in his voice.
Trulie hiccupped back a sob as her darkest fears spiraled out of control.First, they had lied and said Granny had to come back to complete her last leap. Then they had lied and said they came back to this godforsaken century just to help Gray solve his parents’ murder. That wasn’t the only reason those two had pushed Gray in her path. And now look what a mess. Why the devil couldn’t they have just left her alone?
She buried her face in her hands and clamped her jaws shut. Well, fine. The murders were solved and the keep had been purged of any residual evil. As for the other ... she clenched her teeth until she trembled. The chair beside the bed creaked as Gray stood. Good. He was finally leaving.
She held her breath against another sob. Granny’s meddling had resulted in a heartbreaking failure. But it could be remedied. Trulie shivered with the finality of the decision. It was time. Time to return to the emotionless safety of the future and let Gray get on with his life in the past.
* * *
“No.”Gray tested the tautness of the bowstring with his thumb, then handed the weapon back to Colum. “I will not be going on any hunts until Lady Trulie returns to her place at my side.”And in my bed, he silently added. “There is much work to be done here.”
Colum frowned at the nock throat, then ran a hand down the red heartwood of the belly of the bow. “She seemed...” The man’s voice trailed off as he mindlessly tapped his fingers along the delicate curves of the weapon. “She seemed...” He waved the tip of the bow through the air as though marking time for music. “She seemed a bit thin, but she looked to be well,” he finally said.
She was not well. His beloved Trulie had not been the same since that dreadful day. Gray selected another bow from the rack and tested the strength of the wood. “Lady Trulie needs more time to heal. I will not leave her side until the sadness leaves her eyes.” The hunt could be damned, along with any other duty that might pull him from the keep. Granny had asked him to be patient. He had mastered patience early on in life. He would wait an eternity if that’s what it took to win Trulie’s smile.
“Coira—” Colum abruptly stopped speaking. He settled the bow across the battered table running the length of the weapons room.
“Coira what?” Gray said. Colum had the worst time when it came to sharing anything involving emotions. It was almost as though the Sinclair women had cast a spell that tied his tongue to punish him for the way he went through women. Gray waited, watching a myriad of emotions flash across Colum’s face.
“She fears Lady Trulie plans to return to the future.” Colum took a step back as though he feared the words he had just unleashed would explode in his face. “Coira is quite certain Lady Trulie plans to leave with the rise of the next full moon.
Gray closed the distance between them. “What the hell has she told ye? All of it. Tell me all that has been said and tell me now.” If Colum held back any knowledge that would cause Gray to lose Trulie—rage tightened his hands into fists—he would break the man in two.
“Lady Trulie blames herself for losing the child. Feels she failed ye.” Colum stepped back, increasing the floor space between them. “Coira said yer wife thinks ye will be better off if she returns to the future and ye go on without her. Find another to marry and give ye bairns.”
“Go on without her?” Gray threw back his head and roared his anguish to the winds. “There will be no going on without her.”
Colum white-knuckled the narrow arm of the bow he clutched against his chest. He started to speak several times, then finally flattened his lips into a frown and shook his head. It was obvious the man was not comfortable speaking about such things.
Gray’s rage cooled a bit, but the urgency didn’t. Apparently, no number of soft words could convince Trulie she was not at fault. Lore a’mighty. He turned away from Colum and walked to the long, narrow slit of a window. The opening was just wide enough to allow a man to effectively rain down a volley of arrows on any who dared threaten MacKenna Keep.
The bit of sky showing through the slit looked dark and ominous. Gray reached through the window and felt the air. Cold. Damp. The wind promised a bone-chilling rain, perhaps even ice or snow. He felt an odd sense of unity with the weather. It currently mirrored his troubled soul.
“I will speak to Granny and Coira. This verra day, even.” He turned and looked back at Colum. “It is time for Lady Trulie to realize she is my wife and her place is at my side.”
* * *
Trulie snuggled deeperinto the hooded cloak and turned her back to the frigid wind. Maybe a walk through the dormant garden hadn’t been such a great idea after all. Karma trotted up ahead. The great black dog lifted his nose higher, closed his eyes, and seemed to smile. In spite of herself, Trulie’s heart lightened the barest notch. Karma helped her survive the darkness.
The final visit to the tiny grave had been almost more than she could bear. But Karma’s comforting weight leaning against her had pulled her through. When he had pointed his nose toward the sky and softly howled, she had thought she would surely break down. But in the end, the lonely cry echoing across the valley had seemed the perfect farewell to her precious little boy.
Karma looked back and softly woofed as though urging Trulie to hurry. When she quickened her pace, he pranced forward, crunching through the frost-covered leaves. Words couldn’t describe the bliss on the dog’s face as he lapped at the scents swirling through the air.
Maybe she should try it? She closed her eyes and faced the biting rush of cold. Inhaling deeply, she waited for whatever it was that made Karma so happy. Nothing came.
She ducked back around and pulled the hood closer around her face. “I don’t know what you smelled that made you so happy. All I picked up was seawater and pine trees.”
Karma responded with a playful yip and a slow wag of his tail. Then he took off at a run and loped deeper into the maze of shrubbery winding through the end of the garden.
Trulie sighed and trudged on. Apparently, Karma had given up on completely pulling her from her dark mood. She guessed she really couldn’t blame him. She had been this way for weeks.
But everything was about to change. She quickened her pace and followed the dog along the stepping-stones winding through the garden. Soon, there would be no more yards and yards of heavy clothes. No more freezing her tail off in the garderobe or balancing acts on the chamber pot. The luxuries and conveniences of simple indoor plumbing were one of the many reasons to hurry back to the future. And blue jeans. And deodorant—real deodorant. Not just a bunch of herbs rubbed against your armpits.
