He was either a big fat liar, or he was crazy. Or he really had traveled through time.
I didn’t want him to be either of the first two. I reallyreallycouldn’t handle either one of those. So…did I have a choice?
I did not.
Maybe the Matty of a few months ago would have believed he was lying about everything. She would have played along until she could get back to civilization, and then put it all behind her without needing to know why he’d done it, or how sane hewas. But I wasn’t that Matty anymore. My mind, body, and soul no longer revolved around a kitchen and a dining room full of customers that took precedence over everything but breathing in and out, and sometimes, not even that.
I actually cared about something outside of Sugarbush, Vermont.
Or rather…someone.
I appreciated the time he’d given me to absorb the story up to that point. He’d removed my braids and toyed with my hair while he’d told it. Maybe to distract me a little? Maybe to make sure I took it in one bite at a time.
To let him know that I had chosen to believe him, I took his arms and wrapped them tighter around me. He gave me a brief squeeze that said he maybe understood—a hopeful squeeze.
“Not elsewhere, but else-when,” I repeated, to clarify. “So, you’re saying you were still on the battlefield, but at a different time.”
“Aye. Yer time, nigh eight years ago.”
“How did you know? Did they tell you?”
He didn’t answer right away. I figured he didn’t want to tell me more. But he took a deep breath and kept going. “Mornin’ had changed to night. We stood in the dark. Highlanders moved to surround us, but these men were clean and hale, weapons in their sheaths, not in their hands, as if the battle was ahead of and not behind us. I wondered if I was still sleepin’ and the real battle would commence after the sun rose.
“But that small band of men were the only ones on the moor. No fires burned on either side of the battle lines. The enemy werenae celebratin’ Cumberland’s birthday, as they had. Somethin’ was horribly amiss. And it wasn’t just the things that were missin’ that told me so. I saw things that shouldnae have been there. Tall poles with fireless lights on them. Hard paths that hadn’t been there moments before.
“And I tasted something entirely foreign in my mouth. I believe it was the taste of magic. And I’ve not tasted it since. Obviously, I was yet in a battle state of mind. And before anyone might realize I was an intruder among them, I hoped to escape into the night. I helped Simon lower the traveler to the ground, then backed away.
“Alas, the druid’s eyes flicked open and he saw me. He was confused. Didnae recognize me. But then his arm shot up and caught the hem of my kilt and he studied it. As soon as he released it, I fled. I hadnae gone far when I heard them all cheerin’ and celebratin’ that the downed man would survive. When I looked back, he was on his feet again. That was when I tucked tail and ran for home.”
There it was. That’s what he was ashamed of. He’d run off instead of staying and asking questions.
“You probably thought they’d send you back.”
He gasped, then turned my shoulders so he could see my face. “Just so! Just so! Any man would have done the same.” He turned me away from him again and pulled me back against his chest, more cheerful than I’d ever seen him.
I laughed. “Nothing wrong with self-preservation.”
“Aye. The Highland way. Be canny. Live to fight another day.”
“So, this is why you’re paranoid. I probably would be too. But I wonder…”
“What is it ye wonder?”
“I wonder about, you know, the quality of a life lived all alone.”
“Auch, I am nae alone. I have John.”
“John. From the sketchbook?”
He grabbed it and flipped it open to John’s picture. “I meet him at his armory. Sell him m’ carvings, and he has the shoppin’ ready for me. The trade is never fair. He sends fine things alongthat he thinks I need. When his wife was still among us, she would send things too, though we only met a few times. Both of them generous to a fault, as they say.”
“How often do you see him?”
“First Saturday of each month. He’s taught me much. Gave me books so I could educate myself and learn the history of the past three hundred years. And of course, I’m able to practice the new English.”
“New English?”
“Weel, ye couldnae understand much if I spoke the Old English or the Gaelic, aye?”
