“I cannae tell.” She turned it over and over in her hands. Held it at different angles. “More pieces would definitely help.” She looked at him, her expression instantly apologetic. “But I’m grateful for even this one. Thank ye, Sean.”
“Aye.” There was so much he wished to give her, and couldnae. It pained him that all he could offer her was a rusted hunk of metal. He leaned on the shovel handle and mustered an encouraging smile. “How did it go outside the wall? Discover anything new?”
“Nothing significant. What ye’re doing here seems tae be my only hope.”
“Then I’d best get back tae it. But I’d be happy tae see ye back tae the kirk for some shade, if ye’re ready for a wee rest.”
“Nae. Mayhap later if—well, if things dinnae work out as I hope. After all these weeks with naught changing, I can just about describe every blade of grass, misplaced stone, or clod of dirt.” She held out the iron. “Thisis the only thing new, since I arrived.” A hopeful light entered her eyes. “This could be the key, Sean.”
He nodded, unsure what to say. Never had he been so torn, hoping for her sake she could go, and for his, that she couldnae. Though he kenned full well, she must. “I hope so, lass, but dinnae set yer hopes too high. It may no’ be part o’ the gate a’tall. And even if ’tis, it may no’ be what ye need.”
“I know.” Her smile wavered a bit. “But ’tis my last hope.”
“Kenna—” What if itdidwork? He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her he loved her, kiss her one last time, but knew ’twould only make things harder.
She waited, looked at him expectantly. “Yes?”
“Just… If it does work, and all goes as ye wish, I…” Hoping she dinnae notice his hand trembling on the shovel handle, he took a deep breath and tried to conjure the semblance of a smile. “I wish ye and yer family, well. I’ll always be grateful for this wee bit o’ time wi’ ye.”
Blinking rapidly, she looked away for a moment but no’ before he noticed her chin trembling. Finally, she turned back to him and managed what she likely considered a brave smile. “I’ve so much tae thank ye for. I wish things might have been different. I wish—” Shaking her head, she took a step back. “I’ll never forget ye, Sean.”
He watched her move away, clenching the iron like a lifeline. Angrily, he stabbed at the ground with the shovel. Damn Fate, for bringing him to her, letting him love her, only to lose her.
But if she wouldnae give up, neither would he. He began widening the hole. If there were any more iron pieces buried here that could help prove or disprove their gate theory, or be the link to her way home, by the saints, he’d find ’em.
* * *
With Sean working behind her,Kenna fought to keep from turning around. She couldnae bear another goodbye. Spoken or unspoken. Regardless of her feelings for him, her duty was to her family.
Standing where the gate would have hung, she clung to the iron, and waited. Shifted, waited again. After several uneventful minutes she ground her teeth, wanting to pound the earth, wail at the sky, anything that would stir a change. In the weeks she’d been coming here, she’d stood in every possible spot inside the opening, faced every direction, replayed that awful night over and over in her head, searching for any clue that might take her home.
If only ’twas as easy as willing herself there!
She froze. What if she could? ’Twas no more implausible than what she’d already experienced. But how? Could it have been her mither’s will, desperation, and determination that sent Kenna from her own time, in the first place?
Mayhap between her will and the iron, she could reverse the process and make it happen? Desperate for anything to work, she closed her eyes and stood stiff and rigid in one spot, hardly daring to breathe. Grasping the iron, she focused on that terrible night when she was standing outside the wallbeforethe gate opened.
Holding the image in her mind, she tried to recall the sounds. Pictured her mither and Elanor. Heard the fear and panic in their voices and the shouts of the men chasing them. She remembered reaching for the gate, her mither’s panicked voice urging her to hurry.
Kenna’s breath rushed in and out, shallow and fast. Her thoughts swirled, tangled, and dissolved as her body swayed.
And from a great distance, she heard Sean call her name.
Chapter Thirteen
“Kenna? Love? Wake up.” Kneeling over her, Sean brushed tousled curls from Kenna’s face and smoothed his hand across her forehead and cheek.
“Sean?” she mumbled as her eyes fluttered open.
“Aye, lass.” He released a shuddering breath. For a moment he had the craziest notion that somehow her spirit had made the transition but left her body behind. And, mayhap ’twas no’ so crazy a’tall, since he’d done that very thing at Culloden. “Ye gave me a terrible fright.”
She looked up at him with such helplessness and disappointment, he dinnae ken what to say. With her chin quivering and tears pooling in her eyes, he pushed aside the piece of iron she’d dropped when she fell, lifted her, and tucked her against his chest.
Great, heart wrenching sobs erupted as she curled into him. “I thought—” Her breath hitched in quick, hard starts and stops. “For a second…I thought…I heard mither and Elanor’s voices. I thought I’d actually made it home.”
Sean pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, love.”
He winced at such an empty sounding sentiment in the face of such heartbreak, regardless of how heartfelt. But he doubted there were any words that could lessen her despair.
