Page 52 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
“I dinnae think ye’ll ever ken how much I really love ye, Skylar,” he whispered. Clearly, he thought she was indeed sleeping, and not wanting to ruin the moment, she continued to pretend she was. “Ye mean everything tae me, even if at times I dinnae show it. But I will try harder. I promise. I’m just so terrified o’ losing ye. Now I have ye, I couldnae imagine my life without ye.” He bent forward and kissed the top of her head before dropping back down onto the pillow.
In a small while, Maxwell was breathing deeply, having slipped into a deep slumber. It was Skylar who now remained wide awake. She could no longer sleep, for she had been rather taken with his words. Scottish men were hardly known for their expressiveness, but Skylar had found that Maxwell struggled more than most to tell her how he was really feeling.
His words had made such a deep impact, she could hardly stop replaying them over and over in her mind. On each occasion, they brought her more and more satisfaction. Knowing he was now fast asleep, she moved herself up a little in the bed and gazed lovingly at his face. Tenderly, she kissed his chin and then his cheeks. Her lips brushed against his mouth and then his eyes, and finally, she let her lips caress his forehead.
Skylar suddenly found herself dragged to somewhere she had never been before.
Men were screaming, and swords clashed against each other. Then, Maxwell was laying on the ground in a field. He was covered in blood. Skylar was by his side. Her hands were covered in blood too. But it was not her own blood but Maxwell’s.
“He’s losing too much. Too much.”
Bram was there, but he was not injured. “He’s going tae die if we dinnae get him back to the castle,” Bram yelled.
“We should never have been here,” another voice said.
“It’s her fault,” another joined in.
When Skylar looked up, the men were looking down at her as she knelt by Maxwell’s side. It was her fault. He was dying, and for whatever reason, it was her fault.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Skylar’s heart thumped hard against her ribcage, her breathing wildly erratic when she finally came out of her trance. As always, she felt a little dizzy and weak, and it took her a moment to come to and feel fully back in the present moment. Lying there beside Maxwell, she looked down at his face again and tried her best to calm herself, worried her excited state would wake him.
Her mind whirled with what she had witnessed, and a sick feeling of dread washed over her. Was she going to lose him? After all she had endured, was she now to be forced to suffer even more loss and more pain? One should not have to face such tragedy over and over again, and yet, it was evident that was exactly what was going to happen.
There was little she could do to control the things that happened to her in her life, but what had been shown to her told her one thing.
I have tae leave.
The thought of it brought her such heavy sadness, she was nearly overwhelmed by it, but the vision had been perfectly clear. She had been there, kneeling beside him, and Maxwell had been dreadfully injured. There had been so much blood. And then the men with them had said his injury was her fault.
She had never tried to change another’s future before now. But then, it had never been in her power to do so, seeing as she had never seen herself in a vision before. It made sense to Skylar, as her heart calmed and her breathing finally slowed to a normal pace, that if she took herself out of whatever circumstances were going to happen, the future must surely have to change.
She needed to go. She needed to protect Maxwell.
The idea of having to leave him, however, evoked a heavy sense of sadness, and with tears in her eyes at the thought of it, Skylar turned her head and looked upon his face as he lay sleeping soundly beside her, entirely unaware of what his future held. After their deep and profound conversation that night, what she had to do would completely break her heart. Maxwell had already suffered so much loss already. Now, he would lose another person he dearly loved.
The situation was made so much worse by the words he had spoken when he had thought she was sleeping. It sounded as though he had finally reached a place where he could begin to be open with her. Their relationship could have flourished, and they could have been happy—but not any longer.
With a final sigh of utter despair, Skylar slowly pushed herself up and silently slipped out of the bed. Turning to look back at him, however, the tug of her heart was almost too intense and hesitating, she began to doubt if she was capable of leaving.
Can I really do this? Can I really leave the man I am so hopelessly in love with?
Throughout her life, she had faced adversities, all of which had accumulated to build her character and had shaped her into the strong, fiery, determined woman she had become. In all those circumstances, however, she had never had to fight for the feelings of her heart. Having never been in love before, it had never been necessary.
The strength she had felt in other situations, like the times of having to defend or protect herself, had felt empowering and mighty. But she struggled to find that same inner power she needed to proceed with this plan. In fact, the idea of having to leave the man she had completely lost her heart to felt utterly unbearable.
But what if I am the reason Maxwell dies?
The laird had put himself in too much danger because of her already. Maxwell had saved her from Colum’s grasp, and Laird Johnson had retaliated in anger and frustration, causing injury and loss to Clan Macleod. It made sense to assume that the vision referred to another attack.
After all the effort he had made to discover her whereabouts, Laird Johnson was not about to give up on his want of her now. She could pretend that the vision might have been false or a mistake, but it was pointless. There was no doubt in her mind that it would happen. She knew that because all the visions she had ever had always came true.
Denying her self-centered longing, Skylar shook her head and turned away from the bed, away from the man she loved and would likely always love. No matter her feelings or how difficult this decision felt, it would be selfish to stay. If the vision came true, and she knew it would, she would lose him anyway. It would be better to lose him now with him still alive than to stay and watch him die in her arms.
Moving quietly across the stone floor, she slipped from his bedchamber and tiptoed down the corridor to her own. After quickly dressing, she opened the closet and gathered a couple of gowns and other items she might need, stuffing them into a cloth bag. Leaving the bag on the bed, she then moved to the small desk beside her dresser. Skylar gathered the utensils needed and, lowering herself onto the chair, sat staring at the paper before her for a long moment.
If she had to go, the least she could do was leave him some sort of note with her reasons for doing so. It was only right that he was not left wondering if she had been snatched from his bed against her will or if she had left of her own volition. But as she went to pen the words, she suddenly stopped herself.
