Chapter Twenty-Five
“Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow,
it only saps today of its joy.”
~Leo Buscaglia
Two hours had passed since he’d heard Angel slip out the back gate, Simon in tow. What had disturbed her? Why had she run off in the pre-dawn hours without accompaniment? Brian accepted that things were very different in this era. Yet, he couldn’t quite adjust to this business of women wandering off in the dead of night or any other time they chose. Everything he read or saw on the TV news assured him miscreants preyed on women as frequently or perhaps more than they had in the seventeenth century. Exposure made worse today, if for no other reason than women enjoyed such extraordinary freedom of movement and frequently absent male protection.
Yes, they had more equality, more independence, and yet it seemed to him it came at a high cost. Women from his time were not as exposed in the world. Wasn’t the attempted robbery at the clinic sufficient evidence? Even now, when he recalled the event, a hard rage bunched his shoulders into knots. He could have lost Angel that night. As it happened, she hadn’t emerged unharmed despite his best efforts.
The click of the gate closing had woken him. When he checked her room and found her and the dog gone, he quickly dressed and searched for her around the neighborhood. Finding no trace in any direction he’d run, he returned to the house to wait. The sky lightened to a dull gray, and he continued to pace, more distressed with every passing minute. When he stepped from his room into the backyard for the hundredth time, the side gate creaked open. Angel and Simon entered.
The tension in his shoulders did not release. How could she be so irresponsible? How could she put herself in such danger? How could she worry him to the brink of insanity? He sucked in a deep breath, attempted to calm his racing heart before he pulled her into his arms.
He stepped in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right, Angel? I’ve been near crazed with worry.”
“Why? I needed time to think, and Simon needed a walk. We went to Char’s.”
“At this hour? Did she call you, is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just needed to talk with my friend.” Her brow wrinkled, and she didn’t look him in the eye. Something was definitely wrong, but he had no idea how to force her to tell him.
Did she regret giving herself to him on their camping trip? Had she changed her mind? She’d told him she wanted to move slowly, but she’d also said she hoped their relationship continued to develop. Whatever the hell that meant. Women were difficult to deal with in any era, perhaps more so now when they had so much control over their destiny.
He wanted to shake sense into her. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “Please, Angel, don’t go off in the middle of the night without protection. I’ve been worried sick.”
She stepped out of his grip. “I beg your pardon.” She said, thrusting her chin to glare at him. “You do not get to tell me what to do or when to do it. Is that understood? I am not a possession. If we are to make a go of things, that is the first item of business you’d better get your head around.”
In his agitated state, he had difficulty understanding her colloquialisms, but not her meaning. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Excuse me. I didnae mean to sound possessive.” Ha, he sounded and felt like a completely overprotective, possessive fool. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tuck her away from any harm the world might visit upon her.
“I’m tired, and I have classes in a few hours. I think I’ll get a couple hours of sleep. We’ll talk later. Okay?” Already headed up the back stairs, she didn’t wait nor turn around for his response. He watched her disappear into her room and wanted to rip out the banister or the stairs or smash his head against the wall.
Heaven help him, but he loved her. This love had become a devouring creature that left him disoriented with fear for her safety. If she turned away from him, he didn’t think he could stay here. And not here as in this house, but here as in this time. Yet despite returning dozens of times, at all hours of the day and night, to the place where he’d landed in this world, he’d failed to uncover any clue as to how he’d arrived here or how he might return. After she closed her door, he headed out for a long run of his own.
When he reached the now familiar clifftop spot, he slid halfway down the hill to lean against the boulder he’d rested against that first morning. It seemed to have occurred a long time ago. Time was a peculiar construct moving too slowly one moment, then flying beyond its boundaries the next. Occasionally, he still wondered whether he resided in some altered state of consciousness. He knew he didn’t.
A sudden wash of nostalgia and homesickness swamped him. Not a day went by that he didn’t think about his homeland, his lost family, or worried about what might have happened to his poor mother. A resourceful woman, he knew she would’ve survived. He imagined her traveling to her good friends, the MacLeans, to seek comfort and shelter. She wouldn’t have stayed with his father’s clan. After his older brothers had died in battle, which she blamed on the northern Cameron’s excessive warring with neighboring clans, she’d begged his father to leave and swear allegiance to another clan. Of course, his father, an honorable and loyal man, would never leave his brother’s clan, even if they weren’t especially close. Besides, if his brother’s wife did not provide an heir, Brian was in line to become laird. Then his father too had died in battle. Brian closed his eyes as he tried to cull images of earlier days and events from his past.
* * *
Angel drifted into a restless sleep. The previous evening’s nightmare continued to plague her, and the earlier confrontation with Brian didn’t help. They’d shared such a wonderful weekend. Char’s assessment of how well matched they seemed and her encouragement of the match eased some of Angel’s anxiety. Still, he was a man removed from this time. That would present many differences in attitude that they’d need to resolve before a relationship based on love, equality, and respect developed.
She didn’t see Brian again that day. When he came to mind, which occurred at least two dozen times an hour, she’d lose herself in memories of his hands on her body, the weight of him over her, the exquisite explosion of their joined climaxes. Oh hell, she kept telling him and herself they needed to go slowly, but every other thought found her planning another escape, another passion-filled night. Granny probably harbored suspicions about them, but did her parents? That worried her because she didn’t want to jeopardize his standing with them.
Although Brian worked at the clinic today, she didn’t go there because she had labs and then went to a study group with classmates. When she finally returned home, tired, cranky, full of pent-up frustration, and not at all sure about what she’d say to him, she’d decided to avoid him for a day or two. They needed things to settle back into their normal routines. All she wanted was a hot cup of soup, Granny’s homemade bread, and her nice fluffy bed.
Brian had taken Simon for a run. At least she didn’t need to sit with him over dinner. She also worried about whether he’d take it upon himself to approach her father about this betrothal business before she’d had a chance to lay down a few ground rules. Maybe she had jumped into his bed too soon. Nonsense, she’d waited quite long enough.
Granny sat down opposite her at the table. “Brian seemed quiet this evening. Far more withdrawn than usual. Do you think something’s bothering him, dear? I asked if he felt well. He assured me everything was fine, but I can tell he’s not himself. Do you think he’s having difficulties adjusting?”
She tapped her fingernail against the delicate porcelain teacup. Granny was fishing for details. “Do you want to talk about anything? About your weekend?”
“Granny, I’m tired and out of sorts tonight. We had a lovely weekend. I’m sure Brian’s just overloaded with the changes he must maneuver around every day. I know I’d be overwhelmed if I were in his shoes. I think he’s adjusting quite well.”
“Hmmm. You are being careful, aren’t you dear? You’ve come together under extraordinary circumstances. He’s a fine young man, but you needn’t rush. It’s a bit early to start a family.”
“Start a family!” Angel rolled her eyes. She didn’t even attempt to hide her disgruntlement. “Granny, please. We like each other, more than like each other, but we’re not in any hurry. Can we talk about this some other time? I’m tired and need to hit the sack early.”
Granny patted her hand in a conciliatory manner. “Of course, dear. You know, I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten the passions of youth. You will come to me if either of you needs help, won’t you?”