“Holy shit,” Mairi echoed.
Her sisters’ profound statements pretty much summed up exactly how she felt about the situation. Kenna yanked open the overhead cabinet door, blindly patted her hand to the back of the shelf, and snaked out a bottle of brandy coated in a thick layer of dust. “Granny didn’t exactly put it that way, but she might as well have. You know she’s always had plans on seeing us settled, and not in this time. In Granny’s mind, thirteenth-century Scotland is the only era fit to claim as home base.” Kenna plunked the round-bellied bottle down onto the counter and nodded to Mairi. “Get some glasses. I need a drink, and you both will too after you hear Granny’s plan.”
“Wow. It really must be bad if you’re going to let us drink too.” Lilia circled back around and perched on the stool. “Especially Granny’s brandy.”
“Here.” Mairi slid the glasses into a line beside the bottle. “But are you sure you really want a drink? You know alcohol always makes you feel awful no matter how little you drink.”
Kenna nodded, pulled the stopper free of the bottle, and poured a generous splash of the dark-colored liquid into each of the glasses. They had gotten this bottle when they missed their targeted era on a practice jump and landed in fourteenth-century Italy. Granny had taken a liking to the sweet brandy and brought a bottle of it back when they returned home. What a jump that had been. They all loved Italy.
A strained rumble gurgled up from her queasy middle. “I already feel awful.” And she did. The thought of jumping back to the past had her stomach churning. She often wondered if something was wrong with her. She was a time runner, for cripes’ sake. A Sinclair. Born to a long generation of females able to skate back and forth across time whenever they pleased. Kenna downed the swallow of brandy and cringed against the burn. She was a time runner all right. Every time she jumped the web, she vomited everything but her socks. She swallowed hard against the nausea, already roiling with a sickly burn. Even thinking about jumping back in time was making her ready to throw up.
“So, when do we leave?” Lilia asked. She sniffed the contents of her glass, wrinkled her nose, and pushed it away. “That smells like cough syrup.”
“Wedon’t leave.” Kenna licked her lips and refilled her glass with an even more generous splash of Italy’s best. She stared down at the rich ruby liquid for a long moment, then forced out the words. “I am going. Alone.”
Mairi intercepted the glass just as Kenna lifted it to her mouth. “No more. Not until you have shared what’s going on. After that, you can drink all you want and sleep beside the toilet.”
The idea of retching the night away stayed Kenna’s hand. Mairi had a point: making matters worse by self-induced misery was not the solution. “Granny says it is time for me to jump back. By myself.”
“She wants you to leave us? Here? In this century?” Mairi gathered up the three glasses and set them in the sink.
“I can’t believe Granny would have you leave us.” Lilia leaned forward, propping her chin on her fists. “What are we supposed to do without anolder adultto make sure we don’t do anything stupid? I know we’re not considered minors anymore but until we turn twenty-one, we are still kind of limited when it comes to business dealings. Nobody wants to deal with a couple of kids. What if we need a loan or something to expand the shop? How are we supposed to support ourselves?”
Kenna shoved the ancient brandy bottle back to its place on the high shelf. So much for fueling herself with liquid courage. “She says she’s sending a friend to look after the two of you until it’s your turn to jump back. Someone named Eliza. Do either of you remember Granny ever mentioning her?”
“A friend named Eliza.” Lilia sat straighter on the stool. Her dubious look said it all. Lilia didn’t like this sudden upheaval any more than Kenna. “I don’t remember Grannyevertalking about some woman named Eliza.”
“Is she a time runner too?” Mairi leaned against the counter beside Kenna. Her dark brows puckered with a worried look and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Mairi struggled when it came to meeting new people. All the Sinclair siblings had learned at a very young age that their survival depended on knowing whom they could and couldn’t trust with their family’s secrets.
“I don’t know.” Kenna closed her eyes and bowed her head. She suddenly felt a great deal older than her twenty-three years.
“How much time do we have left with you?” Lilia slid off the stool and scooped up the sweater she had tossed across the back of the couch. She hugged the fuzzy gray garment and stared down at the floor. “I don’t want you to go. I’m tired of our family being split up across centuries. It was bad enough when Trulie and Granny jumped back.”
Kenna’s heart ached. She felt exactly the same way. “I don’t want to go either.” She rounded the counter and hugged an arm around Lilia’s shoulders. “But Granny sacrificed so much for us. How can I refuse? I owe it to her to at least give whatever she’s cooked up a chance. Look how happy Trulie is. Granny’s grand plan worked out great for her.” Kenna struggled to keep her tone upbeat and convincing. Quite a feat, since her spirits were currently sagging so low, they could wipe out her footprints.
“We will be fine.” Mairi’s voice cracked and she turned away.
Kenna blinked hard against the threat of tears as Mairi ripped a paper towel from the roll and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“You’re right. We have to do this for Granny.” Lilia brushed her fingers across her cheeks and sniffed.
Kenna blinked faster and swallowed hard against the unshed tears making her throat ache. When had her two little tomboy sisters grown into such mature young women? Kenna coughed and turned away. “Well . . . we have a week to get me ready to meet my sexy Highlander. So, we best stop all these tears and get busy.”
Lilia’s smile trembled. “So, I guess this means I get to keep this shirt?”
Kenna bit her lip and busied herself with gathering up the paperwork from the shop that was scattered across the kitchen countertop. She silently cursed the quiver in her voice as she jerked her chin down in a quick nod. “After we figure out a plan of attack for the shop, you and Mairi can go through my things and take whatever you like.” They might as well. She sure as hell couldn’t traipse around thirteenth-century Scotland in jeans and T-shirts.
CHAPTER3
The cheery bells of the shop door jangled. Kenna didn’t turn from the shelf of neatly wrapped blocks of homemade soaps and dried bundles of herbs. There was no time. She had to get the inventory double-checked. Making sure the shop was in order would give her one less thing to worry about when she left. If anything brought her comfort right now, it was marking items off herthis must be done before I golist.
Instead of turning, she concentrated on opening her senses to the room.Warmth. Joy.Nothing but good energy radiated through the shop. Whoever had entered was not a threat. Thank goodness. She can’t handle any more stress.
“Good morning,” she called without turning around. “I’ll be right with you.”
“Take yer time, dearie. Yer wee apothecary shop smells absolutely heavenly and I could poke my nose around it for hours on end.”
Scottish accent in the small town of Masonville, Kentucky? A tingling sensation ofdéjà vutriggered gooseflesh across Kenna’s skin.This had to be Granny’s friend. “You must be . . . ” The rest of whatever she was about to say left her as she turned and faced the visitor.
