“Oh my. What a face.” Kenna cradled the babe higher 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.” He smiled at the red-faced infant.
“Very few women do.”
A none-too-fragrant aroma wafted up from the blankets as the babe squirmed even more. Kenna wrinkled her nose against the 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 nose and took a step back. “How can something 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 at the backpack sitting beside the bench. “Hand me that, please.”
Still covering his nose, Colum looped a finger through the handle of the backpack, plopped it beside her, then quickly retreated several steps away. “I’ll fetch one of the maids to tend to the wee one 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.”
He 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.” She 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 around the baby, 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?”
He 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 is.”
Kenna scooted over to the tree and placed the aromatic pouch between a couple of knobby roots. “I’ll tend to that later. I have to hide all this stuff before someone else sees it. Granny will skin me alive for bringing these things out of Trulie’s chambers.” She patted a mossy spot next to her, then held up her hand. “Come sit down. Or do you have something you need to do?”
His face brightened with a relieved smile as he lowered himself to the ground. With a nod at the things she hurriedly stuffed back into the backpack, he asked, “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. Please?” A wave of guilt washed over her. She had violated one of Granny’s cardinal rules. Modern-day clothing was risky enough, but she 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 had smuggled back would deprive them of that natural process if anyone were to discover them.
He leaned closer and scooped up her hand, staring down at it as he tickled his thumb across her knuckles. “Ye can always trust me.” He fixed baby Chloe with a weak attempt at a stern look before turning back to Kenna. “That was what I was trying to tell ye before the wee lass soiled her trews. Ye can always trust me and know I am a man of my word.”
Her heart warmed and pounded faster. Whether it was from his 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. He 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 nothing more.”
She forced herself to look away, busying herself with the unnecessary refolding of Chloe’s already neatly swaddled blanket. His expression 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. Her body needed air. She was about to burst into flames.
He rose to his feet, then held a hand out to her. “Come. Walk with me. Surely the wee one would enjoy seeing the rest of the garden.”
She slid her hand into his, and a warm sense of completeness surged through her as he helped her to feet, then gallantly tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. A quiet chuckle escaped her.
“Ye laugh?” He 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 irritated you 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 in a mock look of disapproval.
“Well, of course, I knew.” She gave his arm 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.” He shielded his eyes and peered up at the sky. “The owl doesna approve of having the babe in the sunlight.”
Chloe’s owl circled above them, hovering and maneuvering against the breeze to keep the shadow of his wings across the baby’s face.
Kenna reluctantly slid her hand free of Colum’s arm, immediately missing the warmth of his touch as she pulled a flap of the light blanket over little Chloe’s face. “He’s right. I shouldn’t have her out here in the direct sunlight. She’s still too new for such brightness.” A pang of guilt twitched through her as she turned and hurried to the shaded canopy of the newly leafed out trees in the corner of the garden. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Auntie Kenna will do better.”
Colum smiled down at the drowsy-eyed infant. “She looks no worse for it. Sunshine and fresh air are good for bairns.”
“In small doses.” She swayed back and forth, rocking Chloe in her arms until the baby’s eyes finally closed. “When she’s older, I’ll take her for walks outside the garden. It’s so beautiful here, I can’t wait to go exploring.”
