Finally she turned back around and stared at the horses’ tails. She chewed on her lip. When she thought she might cry she pinched herself. A big hollow feeling settled in her stomach and she sat there, feeling sick inside because she had no idea what it was she had done to make her father send them away again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
He gazed and gazed and gazed and gazed
Amazed, amazed, amazed, amazed.
—Robert Browning
Calum opened the door as quietly as he could. Amy’s eyes were still closed. It looked as if she hadn’t moved an inch. He wondered if a shallow wound like that could be more serious on a woman, especially a small vulnerable woman like Amy.
George looked up from her bedside vigil.
“She’s still asleep?” he asked.
She nodded.
He walked across the room to the bed and stood there for an awkward moment. His gaze went from Amy to this black-haired woman named George. Such an odd name for a woman. George. Who would name a girl George?
He had to admit she had good looks. She was the kind of woman who would turn most men’s heads. But looks didn’t catch his attention. Manner did.
She had frightened him at first. She was someone he wanted to stay as far away from as possible. But it seemed she was only shrewish with Eachann. She had been civil to him, which was a surprise.
He couldn’t fault her for the way she’d been acting. She wasn’t here by her own doing. Eachann deserved more than a few punches.
But aside from the circumstances, George had won his favor when she insisted on sitting at Amy’s side for the last few hours.
Calum shoved his hands in his pockets and just stood there, feeling dumb and big and clumsy. He didn’t know what to say to her.
She looked up at him with a question in her eyes, then she laughed. “I promise I won’t bite.”
Even he had to chuckle. He waited until they both stopped laughing and the silence was heavy again. “How did you get a name like George?”
“You don’t like my name?”
He swore to himself. Now he’d stepped in it. He could feel himself flush.
She gave a small laugh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. The name George is your brother’s idea of fun. My name is Georgina, Georgina Bayard.”
“Bayard?” He thought about that.”
“Like the clocks?”
“One and the same.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry Eachann did this.”
“So am I.” She stared at the window. “I’m more sorry than you can possibly know.” There was a bleak and distant look on her face.
“He hasn’t been himself since his wife died.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, appeared to be chewing over what he’d said. She looked at him again. “When did she die?”
“About three years ago. She loved to sail. We still don’t know what exactly happened. Eachann was the one who found the boat on some rocks. She washed ashore two days later.”
She shook her head and looked away. “How horrible.”
“She was alone that day. In a way I suppose there was some luck involved. Sometimes she took the children with her.”
