Page 57 of So Close To Heaven
Ivy pretended Clairedidwant to hear what had happened, and kept her tone level, calm. “Well... I’m from Indiana. I originally came to Scotland to study abroad—I was training to be a vet. Then I met this guy, David, and, well—” she grinned awkwardly and pointed both forefingers at her stomach—“this happened. So I stayed on after the semester. Then David decided he wasn’t interested in either me or the baby. My bad. I judged him wrong.”
She shrugged and shoved her hands at the skirts, forgetting they had no pockets. Fisting them at her sides, she pressed on. “Anyway, I planned to go home. My flight was booked. I thought I’d take one last easy hike—say goodbye to Scotland, you know? I’ve gone over it a hundred times, but I still can’t pinpoint what happened, or if there were signs. The only thing I remember is the air changing. Like it got heavier. Denser. Then everything around me shifted—suddenly the trail, the trees, all of it... none of it was familiar anymore.”
Her throat tightened. She forced herself to keep going. “That was the easy part. The hard part came after. I wandered for hours, trying to find anything recognizable. Instead, I stumbled straight into a battle. Scots against English. Arrows flying, men screaming, blood everywhere.” Her voice cracked, but she steadied it. “I didn’t understand any of it. I thought maybe it was a reenactment, until I saw a people die. That’s when it hit me that whatever had happened—this was real.”
Her hazel eyes dropped to the ground, to her skirts brushing along the tall grass in the wind. “And that’s when Alaric found me. Sword in hand, face bloody from fighting. I didn’t know who he was, only that he terrified me. I was so confused, I thought surely I was dreaming. He looked at me like I’d dropped from the sky, which I guess, in a way, I had. He demanded to knowwho I was, where I came from. I couldn’t even answer him. I was too confused, too scared. And from there...” She trailed off, biting her lip. “From there, it only got stranger. At the same time, it became more real. I found myself traveling with them—the MacKinlays, that is, Alaric’s clan. After a while, with things only becoming more confusing, I finally asked what year it was—like who asks that question? Outside of movies, or fiction, who has to ask that question? I passed out when they told me—it didn’t make sense, and yet, considering what I’d seen and heard, it was the only thing thatdidmake sense.”
“But it’s impossible,” Claire pressed. “You can’t just...slip through time like stepping through a doorway.”
“And yet here we are.”
Ivy angled her toward the wind, guiding them slowly along the cliff path but keeping them well back from the edge. Gulls still circled and screeched overhead, and the sea below hissed against the rocks. “I went through the same thought process you are. I told myself there had to be a logical explanation—that maybe I’d fallen, hit my head, and was in a coma. That I was imagining it all. But no matter how many times I pinched myself, I stayed here. Eventually... you stop fighting what your eyes keep showing you.”
Claire shot her a sidelong glance, lips pressed thin. “You don’t seem unhinged by it. But I feel like I’m going to be. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Honestly?” Ivy exhaled a dry laugh. “I was marching with a medieval army in those first days. Confused, terrified—but survival came first. There wasn’t time to break down, not with men and swords and danger everywhere. Sure, it tortured me in the quiet moments, but most of the time I was just trying to get through each day without drawing attention—especially from the laird. Alaric. He scared me half to death in the beginning.”
“And now?” Claire prompted, her tone edged with curiosity instead of anger.
Ivy blushed. She felt the heat crawling up her face. “Now... we’ll see. But let’s just say I haven’t prayed in years, and I pray every morning and every night that he comes back safely.”
Claire’s eyes widened, the sharpness in them easing for the first time all day. “So you walked—or fell—into a historical romance novel?”
Ivy laughed outright, her face still warm. She hadn’t thought of it that way, but the words hit their mark. “I guess I did. Or maybe a medieval time-travel fantasy.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment, until Claire spoke again.
“But... did you love him?” Claire asked suddenly.
Ivy’s head snapped toward her. “Alaric?”
Claire shook her head and clarified, “David, the father.”
Ivy hesitated, her throat tightening. “I thought I did,” she admitted at last, her voice low. “At one time, maybe I really did. He made me feel like I wasn’t invisible, like I mattered. He was my firstrealboyfriend.” She let out a breath, realizing the strangeness of it even as she said it. “But since I’ve been here... I don’t think I’ve thought of him once. Not until now.” She showed a wince to Claire, as if to say,How awful am I?
Claire gave a short laugh, not at all unkind. “So, you’re telling me time travel cured you of a bad boyfriend.”
Ivy snorted, the sound caught between a groan and a laugh. “God. When you put it like that...”
Ivy froze mid-step, her hand flying to her stomach. A sharp tightening gripped low in her belly, startling her enough to gasp. “Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, her knees locking as though bracing herself against the wind.
Claire stopped short. “What? What is it?”
“I—I don’t know.” Ivy pressed her palms against the curve of her stomach, eyes wide. “It just... everything clenched for a second.” Her voice rose an octave. “Oh God, Claire, what if it’s labor? What if it’s happening right now? I’m not ready—I haven’t read the expectant mother books in months—I thought I’d have time—I wanted Alaric here when the time came—”
Claire reached out and caught her arm firmly. “Relax. Breathe. Did it feel like tightening, or was there pain, like cramps?”
“It didn’t hurt,” Ivy said, a bit breathless with fright now.
“You’re fine. You’re not in labor,” Claire attempted to assure her.
“How can you say that?” Ivy demanded, her voice pitched high, half whine, half plea. “How do you know? You said you don’t even have kids!”
“I don’t,” Claire said evenly, “but I’m a nurse. A trauma nurse.”
Ivy blinked at her, stunned, then sagged with selfish relief. So strong was her reaction to this blessed news, tears misted in her eyes. “Oh, thank God. Oh my God, Claire, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
Claire’s mouth quirked, then broke into a grin—the first real one Ivy had seen from her since she’d woken. It transformed her face, made her look softer, younger, almost radiant despite the wind whipping her hair across her cheek.
