Chapter Nine
All eyes turned on Torq, including mine.
“The lass is no fit to travel down to the beach. How do ye expect her to travel through time?” he said gruffly, running a hand over his clean-shaven chin. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“Torq,” Ann said softly.
I stared at Torq, but he avoided my eyes.
“Cyn will go back to a hospital for treatment,” Ann said. “She doesn’t belong here.”
Ann’s words hurt. I supposed that I didn’t belong, but I would have expected to hear those comments from a sixteenth-century Scot, not a twenty-first century woman who had herself fallen in love.
Who had herself fallen in love.
I shook my head, dismissed notions of Freudian slips of speech and turned to Ann.
“Torq is right, Ann. I really don’t think I can travel back through time right now. The fall into the keep was terribly painful. What if I end up in a worse situation?”
“Like what?” Ann asked.
I glanced at Torq again, who stared at his bowl of stew without eating. I knew he listened closely though.
“I don’t know! I just don’t think I can face being roughed up right now. Didn’t we agree that it would be dangerous for me to try to travel back through time, at least until I could walk?”
“She may be right, Ann. The journey might be too much.” John spoke up.
Ann gave me a curious look.
“I know we agreed, but at this point, I think it might be too dangerous now for you to stay. I’m doing this for you, Cyn.”
I returned her look, hoping she understood what was in my eyes, in my heart, maybe better than I did.
“It’s too soon,” I murmured again.
Ann cast a sideways glance at Torq and then nodded.
“Okay, if you think it would be too painful...”
From the lift of Ann’s eyebrow and the sympathetic grimace she gave me, I knew she understood that my desire to stay had little to do with pain—at least not back pain.
“It is decided then. Ye shall remain wi us until ye are well enough to return to yer own time,” John affirmed.
Torq said nothing but resumed eating. I noticed that the creases between his eyebrows eased.
“Until then,” I said.
“I have finished and must tend to my duties,” John said. “Andrew, ye may accompany me while I check the wall.”
“I will come wi ye,” Torq said, rising. “Can Cyn-tya bide here awhile until I return, Ann?”
“Sure. I’ve got to find her something to wear anyway.”
The men and Andrew left the croft, and Ann sat back in her chair, crossed her arms and stared at me. I had known we were about to have a talk.
“Well, that was fast!” she murmured.
“What was fast?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“You’ve fallen for Torq!”
“Please,” I protested in a high-pitched voice. “In the space of a few days? How irrational is that?”
“Well, it happened to me, so not irrational at all. I don’t know if it’s the sea air or the sense of desperation that sometimes accompanies life here or just that they’re so darn handsome, but...it happens.”
“It’s more than just the rugged good looks,” I said, giving up all pretense. “It’s the way he takes care of me, the way I think nothing bad will ever happen to me when he’s around, the strength of character...not to mention physicality. He hauled me single handedly up that cliff, even after losing so much blood last night!”
“They’re a tough lot, that’s for sure. But, Cyn, Torq can’t protect you from everything, even if it feels like he can. Even if he wants to. He seems very attached to you, and that’s unusual for him. He’s pretty reserved, doesn’t really socialize much, especially since Mary died.”
“No, I know he can’t protect me from everything, Ann. He’s only human.”
“I would hate to see him get hurt again, Cyn. It’s not my place to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t break his heart. If you’re leaving when your back gets better, then don’t let him get any more attached to you than he is.”
“Ann, I’m no great shakes. I’ve only had a few boyfriends, and frankly, the last one just walked out on me because he thought our relationship was too tame, too underwhelming, I guess. He wanted more passion. I don’t mean in a physical sense, or maybe he did. I don’t know.” I rubbed my forehead. My back hurt.
“What I mean is...people don’t fall crazy in love with me. I don’t command great passion, abiding love, the ‘you’re the only one for me’ kind of love—the kind of love that you and John seem to share. So don’t worry. Torq isn’t going to fall crazy in love with me. I think he enjoys taking care of me, for some reason, like a strange little doll that he can tote around for a bit, but I’m just ordinary, and he’s not. I’m a curiosity, nothing more.”
“You don’t have a very high opinion of yourself, do you?” The sympathetic smile on Ann’s face belied the harshness of her comment.
“No, not really. My dad was an archaeologist, you know. I’ll just say that I took up archaeology hoping that his ghost somewhere would pay attention long enough to be proud of me. So far, no luck with that either.”
Ann rose, came around the table and bent to kiss my cheek.
“I’d hug you, but I think it would hurt. You said a lot in that sentence. I’m sorry, Cyn.”
She straightened and rubbed her hands on her skirt.
“Well, I’ll clean the table off later. Let’s get you dressed before Torq gets back.”
“So no chance I can wear the T-shirt?”
“No chance,” she said with a grin. “And you have to wear a bodice. I didn’t send one over this morning because I wasn’t sure, but I think it might even help support your back. I hope so!”
A half hour later, after some moaning and whimpering on my part while I stood bracing my hands on the table, Ann had me re-dressed in a white shift, beige bodice and skirt.
“I’m not sure where your shoes are, but here are a pair of slippers. If it were colder, you would need to wear stockings, but I think you can squeak by. Just don’t lift your skirts.” She helped me back to the chair and bent to cover my feet in the black slippers.
“I’d kill for a decent hiking boot, but here we are!” Ann said. “Let me do something with your hair just to keep it out of your face, if nothing else.”
She pulled my shoulder-length hair up into a chignon and tied a length of red yarn around it.
“There you go! You’re all sixteenth-century Scottish lass now!”
I put a hand to my back. “The bodice does actually seem to help, but I guess eating is out from now on.”
Ann chuckled. “You can loosen it.”
Torq tapped on the doorway and stepped inside.
“Mistress Glick said the bairns are sleeping, so ye were to take yer time. Archibald and Sarah play with the other bairns outside her croft. I set two lads to watch over them.”
“Oh! How nice of her. Well, I’ve got plenty of chores. Are you finished doing what you were doing?”
“Aye, we have checked the walls, scanned the mainland. All seems quiet.”
I grasped the table edge to pull myself to a standing position, and Torq moved to support me.
“I see Ann has turned ye into a proper Scottish lassie,” he murmured.
I looked up at his crinkled eyes.
Ann laughed.
“That’s just what Ann said!”
“Ye look bonny,” he said gruffly.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t know if it was the after-meal blood sugar dip or time traveling “jet lag,” but exhaustion suddenly drained me of energy.
“I think I’d like to rest awhile.”
Before I knew it, Torq picked me up in his arms.
“I will take ye back to the keep then.”
“Bye, Ann,” I said. “See you soon.”
“I’ll see you later,” she said.
Torq carried me outside, and we passed through the crofts. As he had said, children played out front of a croft, and two teenage boys watched over them.
A blond boy and girl, spitting images of John, broke away and ran toward Torq. Torq paused as the young girl tugged on his sleeve.
“Torq, who have ye there?” the blue-eyed doll asked.
“Mistress Dunnon. This is Sarah Macleod.”
“Are ye visiting us, Mistress Dunnon?” the boy asked.
I presumed he was Archibald.
“I am,” I said with a broad smile, albeit slightly embarrassed that I was the one being carried and the children were on the ground.
“How long shall ye be wi us, mistress?” Sarah asked. “Torq, will she stay wi us at Uncle John’s cottage?”
“Nay, lassie. Mistress Dunnon is staying in the keep.”
“But I thought that’s where ye were staying now, Torq,” the astute Archibald said.
I was just on the point of telling Torq to put me down to save his strength, but he shook his head.
“That is enough questions now, bairns. Mistress Dunnon is unwell, and I must take her to rest. I will visit wi ye later.”
“So pleased to meet ye, Mistress Dunnon!” Sarah called out as Torq moved on through the village.
“You too!” I called out over his shoulder. I saw that the kids went back to playing.
“Why don’t they live with you, Torq? If you’re their stepfather?”
He tsked, almost as if at himself.
“I was no married to Mary verra long, only a few months. The bairns are more comfortable with their uncle John and Ann and the wee ones. I gave up my croft and moved into the keep.”
I supposed the solution was practical. Torq could not have watched out for the children, busy as he probably was with the business of guarding the island.
The sun shone pleasantly down on us as Torq carried me across the tabletop toward the keep. I thought about the dense fog that I’d first seen upon arrival at Dun Eistean. The darkness of the keep room did not appeal to me at that moment either, even as tired as I was.
“Torq, do you think you can just deposit me somewhere in the sun for a bit? It’s so nice and warm.”
Torq paused, looking up at the sun.
“Aye, it is a rare sight.”
“So?”
“I thought ye wished to rest?”
“I can sleep under the sun, can’t I?”
“Aye, I suppose that ye can. I could carry ye round to the back of the keep. The lads can see the sea from the tower, but no the base of the tower. I could set ye there for a spell. Would that please ye?”
“Oh, yes!”
Torq carried me around the rectangular tower and onto a brief expanse of grass that led to the edge of a steep cliff. Beyond lay the vista of rugged coastline, crashing surf, sea spray, whitecaps, seagulls and turquoise water. I swallowed hard against the magnificence of the sight and my fear of heights.
Once Torq set me down on the grass against the base of the keep’s stone wall though, the sensation of being at the edge of a cliff diminished. My back ached, and I longed to lie down. I slid down to lie on my side, the sun now in the west, warming my face.
“Just leave me here for a bit. If you’ve got something to do, I’m fine.”
“I will get ye a blanket in case ye get cold.”
“I can’t imagine needing one,” I said drowsily. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of Torq moving away across the grass, the wind whistling across the tabletop, the seagulls squawking as they flew by, and the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shoreline from below.
I hardly remember Torq laying a blanket over me or his hushed words.
“I will return to check on ye,” he said.
“Not too soon,” I mumbled.
“Nay, rest now,” he said, his voice soothing.
I felt his hand flat on my back for a moment.
“That feels nice,” I said, drifting off.
Several times throughout the afternoon, I felt Torq’s hand on my back, but I continued to drowse.
“Are ye rested?” Torq asked quietly.
“No, still sleepy,” I said, finding it impossible to open my eyes.
“I’ll leave yet then.”
I pulled the blanket close to my face as the air grew cooler. I knew I was sleeping into the twilight hours but didn’t care. I remembered thinking that Torq was so thoughtful to let me sleep.
Suddenly, the blanket was ripped from my hands, and my face buried in material. I felt myself hauled roughly off the ground, trapped in someone’s arms.
“Torq!” I shouted, clawing at the material covering my face. “What are you doing? Torq! Stop it! Put me down! You’re hurting me!” I cried out, agonizing pain searing my back.
A muttering of Gaelic burst through the pounding in my ears. I wanted to struggle, to fight. I think I tried, but whoever carried me had thrown me over his back, and every breath I took was forced from me by the impact of the man’s shoulders. I knew it wasn’t Torq. If I knew nothing else, I knew what it felt like to be carried by Torq.
I tried to shout, but my efforts sounded like gasps more than cries. I couldn’t see anything but darkness, as the blanket covered my face. The blanket and the man’s grasp bound my arms tightly to my sides. I couldn’t beat on him. I couldn’t fight back.
Painful bouncing suggested running, then a pause. More Gaelic. I heard shouts in the distance, and I hoped everyone survived what I suspected was yet another raid. I prayed that the children were protected, and I worried that Torq had been hurt. I knew he would have come for me if he could.
My captor shifted his hold on me, and then we started a descent. Even blinded as I was, the feeling of going down in spurts was unmistakable. I didn’t think it was possible, but it felt as if we were descending one of the cliffsides by rope in short spurts—in fact, rappelling.
“Stop!” I gasped. “Stop!”
“Quiet!” an unrecognizable guttural voice barked near my ear.
Male voices crowded around my head, and I felt myself tossed onto something hard. At that, I let out a scream, my face covered but my voice not muffled. Something painful hit my head, and I blacked out.