Page 82 of Wild Highland Rose
He reached over and clasped her trembling hand in his. "Why don't we start over?" She nodded, pulling her hand back from his grasp. "How's your brother this morning?"
Her eyes brightened. "He's doing much better. He slept well last night and this morning ate a little broth. His throat's bothering him a wee bit, but I told him that was to be expected. Grania's already been in to check on him and seems to think with a little rest that he'll be right as rain."
Cameron smiled. "I'd trust her diagnosis any day."
Aimil frowned at his choice of words, but then smiled, obviously getting the gist. "You'll see him yerself?"
"Yeah, I'll check on him as soon as I'm dressed." He gave her a pointed look and she sprang up from the chair.
"I'd best be off then. I'll just leave the tray until yer finished." She headed for the door, and he watched her leave, then reached for his plaid.
It was time to go. Of course there was still the problem of finding the way back to the landslide, and even if he found it, there was the very real possibility that he still wouldn't be able to get back to his own time, but he had to try. Lindsey needed him. Surely that was the point of his dreams.
Again he saw the blood, her terrified eyes beseeching him. He threaded his fingers through his hair, knowing he was missing something. But what? His memory seemed to be intact, but he still wasn't seeing the whole picture. He struggled to remember, but his mind remained stubbornly blank.
The only way to find out the truth was to try and get home again. To find the door to the future. His future. Maybe he'd been sent here to learn about himself. To realize that there was more to life than achievements and success. Maybe now he'd be the kind of husband Lindsey deserved.
Just for a moment he allowed himself to think of Marjory. He remembered the feel of her wrapped in his arms, their bodies moving together as one. Heart to heart, soul to soul…
With a curse, he cleared his thoughts. He had obligations to fulfill and they weren't here, no matter how tempting a certain Scotswoman might be. He jumped out of bed, swallowing the last of the bannocks. It was time to go home.
Cameron stoodat the gate to the garden, watching as Grania dug her hands into the warm, moist soil. The smell of the earth filledthe air, the scent soothing in some intrinsic sort of way. Grania felt carefully along a row of plants, her hands stopping when she reached a dark green, long-leafed one, then with deft hands, she harvested stems and leaves, placing them in a basket by her side.
It was peaceful watching her work, the drone of the nearby bees a musical accompaniment. It would be easy to stay here, to forget about honor and doing what was right, but he was knew he couldn't. So he walked into the garden preparing to say good-bye.
Grania must have recognized the sound of his footsteps because she looked up, her wrinkled face creasing into a smile. "You're an early riser. I thought fer sure ye'd sleep the day away after all ye went through last night."
"I could say the same thing about you." He came closer, squatting down on the dirt beside her.
"I dinna sleep much anymore. One of the privileges of age."
"Are these herbs for healing?" He was fairly certain of the answer, but he couldn't bring himself to move to heavier topics.
"Aye. I've got quite a few of them growing here, although there are some I can only find in the woods. I thought I'd make a poultice for Fingal. Have ye seen him?"
"Yeah, I just left him. He's healing nicely. Hasn't quite got the hang of covering the stoma before he talks, but he's getting there. I imagine, in a few more days, he'll be talking non-stop."
"Probably." She stopped awkwardly, as if she already knew what he was here to say.
"I've come to say goodbye."
"Ye've made up yer mind, then?" She broke off another plant, adding it to the basket, a slight tremble in her hand the only evidence that his announcement had affected her.
"Once I remembered there was never really anything to decide. I belong in the twenty-first century, Grania. My life is there."
"Ye have a life here, too."
"No, Ewen had a life. I've just been prolonging it for him."
"And what about Marjory?" She looked up at him, her expression so intense, that for a moment he forgot she couldn't see.
He sighed, his heart twisting inside him. "She'll find someone new. Someone who can love her the way she deserves to be loved."
Grania reached over and tentatively touched his hand. "I know that, but I canna be as sure that she knows it. She's given her heart to you, lad, and it'll no' be easy for her to give it to another."
He pulled away. "I wish it could be different, Grania. I'd do anything to keep from hurting her. But I have a fiancée and she needs me, too. If my dreams are to be believed her very life might depend on it."
"Surely an overstatement."
