Trish stared at Nessa in open-mouthed amazement and rested a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Nessa… What is going on with you? What is wrong?”
Nessa scrubbed her face with her balled up fists and struggled to keep from bursting into tears. Her voice quivered as she fought for control and rummaged around the tent for her coat. “Nothing! Okay? I’m just tired. Just leave me alone for a while. I just need some fresh air. I’m just going for a walk. Don’t look for me later because I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Nessa shoved her arms into her jacket and jerked the collar up around her neck. As she stomped out the door, she shielded her weary eyes from the blinding rays of the sun. Where the hell had she put her hat? As far as she was concerned, from this day forward, work was all that mattered. One way or another, Trish would just have to learn to accept it. When it came to priorities, men just hit the rock bottom of her list.
Poor Trish. She shouldn’t have bitten off her head like that. A twinge of guilt banged against her exhausted mind. Nessa ducked her face even lower into her collar. Trish was her best friend, confidant, and sister she’d never had.
If she’d taken the time to tell Trish about her horrifying dream, Trish would’ve understood. She might not have believed it. She might think Nessa had slid over the edge but she never would’ve judged her. She would’ve just nodded her head, offered her shoulder for Nessa’s tears, then suggested they go out and do something crazy to push it out of Nessa’s mind.
Nessa bent to pick up a rough-edged stone and turned it over in her hand. With a cynical laugh, she rubbed her thumb across its cold, rough surface. The archeologist in her wondered what secrets it could tell.
She’d come so far. She’d reached her goal. And she’d always credited her drive to the man in her dreams. Now that same man had shattered his comforting lover’s image. Now what was she supposed to do?
ChapterThirteen
“When will they be here?” Latharn bellowed from the sphere. He hated it when Brodie and Fiona went into the other room and left him on the shelf.
Fiona stuck her head through the door and motioned toward the clock centered on the mantel. “I told ye they should be here within the hour. Ye asked me that same question just fifteen minutes ago. Please, Cousin Latharn. I canna get the tea and cakes ready if I keep having to come in here every five minutes and tell ye what time the girls are supposed to arrive.”
“If I asked ye the question fifteen minutes ago, then ye are not coming in here every five minutes to talk to me,” Latharn shouted at the swinging door. It was too late. Fiona had left and gone back into the kitchen. If they would set the damned globe in the sitting room, then they wouldn’t have to worry about it.
Latharn fumed as he paced the circumference of his prison. He’d been practicing more of late. Perhaps he could move the globe there himself. First, he visualized the globe sitting on the counter of the shop. He opened his eyes. With a proud smile, Latharn scanned his new surroundings. He had done it. Emrys had told him concentration and practice was the key. He rubbed his hands together and flexed his shoulders. He visualized the dark mahogany table he knew Fiona had centered in front of the window of the sitting room. It had belonged to her mother. It was her pride and joy. Opening his eyes, Latharn chuckled as he now enjoyed the view out of the parlor window. And there was Trish just getting out of her vehicle. But where was Nessa?
“Brodie! Fiona!” Latharn bellowed from his new vantage point in the center of the sitting room.
“How did ye get in here?” Brodie twisted his head from the doorway of the shop to the mahogany table in the center of the room.
“That is not important right now,” Latharn hissed as he reflected the aura from the sphere off the walls. “Nessa is not with Trish. Something is wrong. Find out what it is.”
Brodie turned to follow Latharn’s command as Fiona walked in from the kitchen and pointed at the sphere and back at the room. He shook his head at her and waved her back toward the kitchen as a knock sounded at the door.
“That’s her. Be sure and stand so I can see everything.” Latharn wished he could speak to Trish. He knew he had upset Nessa the other night in her dreams. He’d lost control of his damnable temper, his uncontrollable rage…he couldn’t help it. The thought of Gabriel Burns touching his Nessa made his blood boil.
Brodie opened the door to Trish’s smiling face. “Trish, we’re glad ye could make it. Won’t ye come inside?” As he stepped aside and ushered her in, he added, “Where’s Nessa? We thought she was coming too.”
A suspicious look flickered across Trish’s face as she stepped into the room. “Nessa had a really rough night last night. She sends her thanks and promises to make it some other time.”
Latharn watched Trish’s body language. This lass was a cagey one. Trish protected Nessa as she’d so often done before. Latharn chuckled as he stroked his chin. He could tell by the look on Trish’s face, she’d already sized up Brodie and Fiona. He read her as easily as a book. This afternoon’s tea could prove to be quite entertaining. Brodie and Fiona could end up having their hands full. Latharn leaned against the glass and prepared to enjoy the show.
Fiona led Trish to a comfortable chair right beside the mahogany table. An innocent look plastered across her face, Fiona’s hand fluttered to her chest. “A rough night? Is she okay? I thought last night was her private dinner with Gabriel Burns.”
Careful, Fiona. Dinna overplay your hand. This one is not a fool. Latharn shifted closer for a better view as he waited for Trish’s reaction.
Trish settled into the cushions and smiled. She hesitated before she answered. “Dinner didn’t go quite as planned. There was an accident and they had to cut the date short.”
“An accident?” Brodie shared a fierce look with his wife as he set the platter of sliced cakes upon the table in front of the chairs.
Latharn rubbed his jaw and grinned. Aye. An accident, all right. Unfortunately, the bastard had survived it. Latharn had been gentle and sent just the barest puff of wind. This should be good. Trish was toying with Brodie and Fiona. She waited for them to drag the information from her. The minx. She must’ve been a cat in a previous life, playing with her prey before the kill. What else would she tell them?
Trish stirred her tea as she perched on the edge of her chair, then leaned forward and selected a cake. “Nessa said Gabriel lost control of the car when it was sideswiped by a blast of wind. They ran off the road and then Gabriel was blown into the ditch while trying to help Nessa out of the car.” She sipped her tea. Her eyes narrowed into speculative slits as she watched the couple’s reaction over the rim of her cup.
“A blast of wind, ye say? How frightening that must have been for them. Was either of them hurt?” Brodie’s hands curled into fists and he moved to the edge of his seat.
Trish shrugged and swirled the amber liquid in her cup with the delicate silver spoon. “Nessa’s fine. Gabriel didn’t fare as well. He ended up with a wrenched knee and three broken ribs.” Trish set her cup of tea on the table, then folded her hands in her lap as she relaxed back in her chair. “Of course, Nessa had to jog all the way back to the inn for help and then mentioned something about having nightmares the rest of the night.”
Fiona and Brodie fidgeted in their seats, stealing glances at Latharn’s sphere. Fiona cleared her throat as she rose to refill Trish’s cup, her hand trembling as she clenched the handle of the delicate teapot.
“We’re verra sorry to hear Gabriel was hurt. These narrow country lanes can be quite treacherous at times. He’s lucky Nessa was able to go for help since we just learned the local ambulance is back in the shop.”
