She looked and looked, for Gavin, to no avail and couldn’t help wondering if he already left. It was as though something or someone was conspiring against her.
Earlier, as soon as she realized Gavin wasn’t coming back, she shoved everything she could think of in one of her bags and left the hotel, got in her car and headed to the games. And even though she had seen the entrance the night before, for some reason she had a hard time finding it in the light of day. It didn’t make any sense.
Well into the latter part of the day, she finally found the damn entrance, only to be told that it was nearing closing time. Paige had argued with the person at the gate for fifteen minutes before they saw fit to let her inside. Now, it was almost dark, and most of the people were either leaving or loitering around conversing with one another. She didn’t know if they worked here or if they were just visiting. And she didn’t really give a crap either way, expect for the fact that they kept getting in her damn way.
She was tired, hungry and her heart hurt. On the verge of tears, she looked around, trying to figure out what tents she had already been inside and which ones that she hadn’t. They were all blurring together at this point and looked the same.
Turning around in circles to get her bearings, she spotted one tent that was set up on a hill in the distance beside a maypole.
As soon as she saw it, she knew that was the one where she would find the gypsy. Taking off, she ran up the grassy sloped hill with her hefty bag of goods slung over her shoulder. She had filled it with just about everything she could get her hands on from their luggage as well as all the little bottles of shampoo/conditioner/soap from the bathroom as well as all the food and drinks from the goodie bag. Paige decided if she was traveling to the past, she better be prepared. ‘If’ was the operative word here, though.
With an aching back, and panting from exertion, Paige made her way over uneven clumps of grass and debris to the top of the hill. Just at the crest of the top she stopped for a moment to adjust the bag. It was so heavy it was cutting into her shoulder, but there was no way she going to let it go, especially if she was to be traveling to the past.
The closer she got to the tent, the more unsettled she became. And even though it was still pretty light out and a few people were still rambling around the field near the maypole, Paige couldn’t help but notice how they were looking at her. Sure, maybe it was her overactive imagination in full swing or the fact that she might look a bit strange carrying a huge bag and panting like she’d just run a marathon, but something about the way they watched her made prickles rise on her skin. It was the same feeling she got in the castle when she was in the past.
It was a bit creepy to say the least.
“Just a few more steps, Paige,” she told herself, as she climbed the rest of the way up the hill.
Once at the top, she stopped again to catch her breath and pressed her hand to her lower back. The air felt different up here than down on the lower plateau. Cooler somehow and damp, like it had just rained. Even though she knew it hadn’t. And there was a definite eerie vibe to the place.
A massive ginger haired highlander stood outside the entrance of the tent. Paige dropped her hand, hiked her bag on her shoulder and walked up to him.
“Hello,” she said, as cheerily as she could manage. Her Grans always said, “you catch more bees with honey than with vinegar.”
He looked straight ahead like she wasn’t even standing in front of him.
“Excuse me,” she said, louder.
His light gray eyes lowered to her face.
“Hi there.” She added a cheesy smile. “I was wondering if you could help me?”
His countenance didn’t falter. “Help ye with what?” he asked finally. His voice was deep and gravelly.
“Um, do you know where I might find, um…” She lowered her voice and leaned closer, “the gypsy?”
“Tilde is no taking any more clients this evening. Ye will have ta come back on the morrow.”
“I can’t wait that long,” she nearly yelled, instantly forgetting about the honey versus vinegar thing.
One of his ginger brows lifted. “Yell all ye like, lass, that will no change the outcome.”
For some reason, she didn’t think they were talking about her seeing the gypsy any longer. She tried a different tactic. “Where is he?”
He shifted slightly but still made no move to allow her entrance.
“Please,” she begged.
He exhaled. “Lass, ye would do well ta be on yer way back ta wherever ye came from.”
“I don’t want to go back to where I came from,” she argued, feeling sick. “I want, no, I need, to go with him, please.”
“Sorry, I can no help ye.” He shook his head adamantly back and forth, making his ginger beard quiver from the action.
He suddenly reminded Paige of Tavner, albeit a younger version.
“Well, I’m not leaving until I see this Tilde.” She dropped her bag on the ground but still kept hold of the handles.
A lone raven landed on the top of the tent and flapped its wings, cawing loudly.
The sound made gooseflesh rise on her skin.
“I’m not leaving,” she repeated, more for herself than for him at this point.
They stood at odds against one another as the sun dropped completely from the sky but she was still not moving. Hell, she would stay out here all night if need be. Granted, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. It was rather chilly up here and her feet were falling asleep.
After what seemed like hours, which could have only been minutes, his eyes finally lowered back to her face.
“I’m not leaving,” she repeated.
“Aye, I can see that.” He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like the word “daft,” then said, “Wait here.” Letting out an audible sigh, he turned and ducked his massive frame under the tent flap, the canvas swishing shut behind him as he disappeared from sight.
Three people that had been roaming near the maypole on her way up the hillside were now gathered in a semi-circle under a tree, and even though she tried not to look like she noticed them, she could still feel their eyes watching her.
Paige tried to act nonchalant and fidgeted with her bag strap and looked in the opposite direction. All the tents were closed up for the night on the lower plateau along with the concession stands for food. As soon she spotted the stands for food, on cue—her stomach growled.
Reaching down into the bag at her feet, she grabbed out a protein bar, stood back up, and pulled down the wrapper. Casually, she looked back up at the tree, to see what the three people were doing but they were now gone. A shiver of something akin to dread swept up her spine.
Ignoring the feeling, she took a bite of her bar, chewing slowly. She didn’t even really taste it, which was weird, since it had chocolate in it—anything with chocolate was usually a pretty big ‘pick me up’ but it wasn’t doing much for her.
Not now.
Not when she was on the verge of losing it with worry about whether or not Gavin had left her without even a “good-bye”, “so-long”, or a “it’s been nice knowing you”, she got Zilch. Caput. Nada. Nothing. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes and she took a deep breath to keep them from spilling over while waving her hand in front of her face. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” She forced her tears back, waving her hand in front of her eyes.
Getting herself under control, she bent over and grabbed out a bottle of water. Untwisting the lid, she took a sip. The bar and water helped bolster her dwindling mood, but not much.
Tired of waiting, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Balling up the wrapper, she bent over, put her bottle inside and lifted up her overfilled bag, once again. Hooking the straps on her free arm, she made her way over to the trashcan outside the tent to toss in her wrapper.
Leaning forward, she tried to see in the crack in the flap. It was dim inside the tent and hard to see, especially since it was pretty da
rk outside now with the exception of a few pole lights that were lighting the field.
“Is she still outside, then?” Paige heard a male voice say. She couldn’t be sure but it sounded a lot like Gavin. Huddling closer, she tried to see inside again.
“Och, she is a stubborn one,” a gravelly voice said and she knew at once it was the highlander that had been outside before.
“Do ye want ta take her with ye?” She heard a woman say. Her voice was clear and crisp as though she was right beside Paige.
“Nay. I can no take her with me.”
Her heart sped up. Was that Gavin? It certainly sounded like him.
“Ye need ta make up yer mind,” the woman said.
“Och, I already did.”
That was definitely Gavin. Paige was about to go headfirst through the opening when she heard the woman speak again.
“Twilight is waning, do ye want ta at least say good-bye?”
“Nay.” Paige saw Gavin shake his head adamantly back and forth, something she had seen him do many times. “I do not.”
A bone crushing sadness closed in on her and she was having a hard time taking a breath. That, was it? No goodbye? He didn’t think she deserved that much from him?
Paige gritted her teeth as her anger quickly bubbled back to the surface. What the hell?
Before she lost her nerve, she ripped back the tent flap and stepped inside. “Are you kidding me?” She dropped her bag on the ground at her feet.
Gavin turned and the pain she saw on his face gave her pause, but not for long. Right now, she didn’t care if he was hurting because she was hurting too. And it was his fault. And hers, of course, for eavesdropping, but that didn’t matter right now.
“Och, ye were right. That one is full of spit and vinegar,” the gypsy woman said as she eyed Paige from across the room, seated behind a table much like the one she had sat at when she visited the other gypsy.
“I told ye, Tilde.” This time it was the highlander that spoke.
“Lass, what are ye doing here?” Gavin finally spoke up.
“What am I doing here?” she fumed. “I came to say good-bye.”
Gavin eyed her bag. “It looks like ye were intending ta do more than say good-bye.”
“So, what if I was? I should be able to go with you.”
“Lass ye don’t know what ye are saying.” Gavin’s eyes flitted worriedly over to the gypsy.
“I do too. I should be able to make my own decision. I deserve that much, don’t I?”
Gavin stepped forward. “Let’s go outside ta talk, aye?”
Paige waffled in place. Part of her wanted to go outside and convince him to stay but another part of her, her gut, knew that if she did he would try to talk her out of going with him.
“No. I want to hear what she has to say.” She pointed her finger at the women.
“Lass, please,” he implored, “jes listen ta me.”
“If you wanted me to listen to you, you should have had that conversation with me before you snuck away this morning and left me at the hotel.” Another rush of tears clouded her vision. Last thing she wanted to do was let him see how upset she was.
“It was for the best,” he said. “Don’t ye see.” He lifted his arms akimbo. “I have no right ta expect ye ta come back with me.”
“You are right about that,” she said, defiantly, letting her anger wash away her tears. “You don’t have that right. But I do.”
“Lass…” He stepped forward.
Paige moved to her left, to duck around him but wasn’t fast enough.
He grabbed her in his arms.
“Let the lass speak,” the gypsy woman said.
Paige felt Gavin tense behind her as she pushed his arms away.
Stepping out from his hold, she made her way to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.
The gypsy woman was beautiful, that much was obvious but what surprised Paige was the way in which she was looking at her with a cross between curiosity and something else…
Was that jealousy she saw in her eyes?
Of course, she thought, she must be imagining that because why would she, the woman, who was far more pretty than her, look at her in such a way?
“Hi there,” she said cheerily, an icebreaker of sorts, as she situated her bottom on the chair.
“Give me yer hand, lass.”
Reluctantly, Paige stuck out her hand across the table.
Reaching forward, she grabbed hold.
A shiver of unease flitted over Paige. The woman’s hand was cold and clammy, reminding her of a fish she once touched that she caught while fishing with her ex.
Slowly she turned over her hand, and used her other hand to flatten out Paige’s palm. Her fingers felt just as gross and she had all she could do not to pull her hand away.
The gypsy woman peered closely down at Paige’s hand. “Ye have a split lifeline,” she said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means part o’ yerself is here and the other part is destined ta be someplace else.”
Out of habit, she looked over her shoulder and smirked at Gavin—it was something she always did when she felt vindicated.
He frowned.
That wasn’t the response she expected. Normally, he would smile and tease her. Disheartened with his lack of response, she turned back around in her seat as the woman ran her fingertip over the other lines in her hand.
“Ye love him, aye?”
“Yes. I do.” Paige didn’t see any reason to lie. It’s not like she hadn’t told him that a million times.
“Even though his heart belongs ta another?” she asked.
Paige jerked her hand at that, but she didn’t let go.
“Yes. I know that as well,” she admitted her worst fear.
“Lass, it is no like ye think,” Gavin began, feeling a sickening wrenching in his innards.
“Shush,” the gypsy scolded him. “I am not finished.”
Everyone in the tent fell silent, including Paige. And even though she didn’t want to hear anything more about his heart belonging to someone else, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to listen to whatever else the woman had to say on the subject.
“Ye have a piece o’ his heart as well, I see.”
“I do?” Paige couldn’t mask her surprise or elation upon hearing that tidbit.
“Aye, lass, ye do,” he said.
Paige tensed. She could feel him moving to stand behind her but was afraid to turn around.
“Weel,” she said, finally releasing her hand. “Ye will have ta make a choice.”
Paige saw that she wasn’t speaking to her this time, but instead to Gavin.
She pulled her hands back into her lap and fisted them together in little tight balls to the point her nails were cutting into her palms.
“What choice might that be?” His voice was hard, unnerving.
“Ye will have ta decide whether she is worth yer heart or if the other is.”
“The other one is gone,” he said simply. “Broderick saw ta that.”
“So say ye.” Her eyes glittered strangely.
“What are ye speaking of?” Gavin asked.
“I am saying ye need to choose. But choose wisely,” she warned.
“Och.” Gavin swiped his hands over his face in aggravation and then dropped them to his sides. “I am tired of these games. Are ye going ta help me leave tonight or no?”
She settled back in her chair, giving Paige a hairy eyeballed look and then flicked her eyes back to Gavin.
“That is up ta ye,” the woman said.
“Come on, lass,” he said, laying his hands on her shoulders.
Paige didn’t know whether to move or not. She wanted to leave with him but something held her back from moving. Regardless of what she wanted, she also needed to hear what his answer was going to be.
Gavin lifted his hands from her shoulders. “I can no choose now.”
Her heart sank at those words. Really?
That’s all he could say? What about, I care for this lass more?
“Aye, I see ye are in a quandary,” said the gypsy woman. “These mixed feelings of yers are…”
“Cease yer prattle woman,” Gavin yelled before she could finish. It was of no consequence any way and he didn’t know why the gypsy was pressing the issue.
The sound of his raised voice sent Paige’s nerves on edge more so than they already were.
Wow.
Even after all the time she was with him in the past and the present, Paige never heard him raise his voice, which of course put her in a fouler mood. Where was all that pent-up passion for her? Fine, when they made love she could certainly feel his passion but other than that they were like an old pair of worn in shoes—comfortable.
“Do ye still want ta go with him, lass?”
The sound of the gypsy’s voice cut into her thoughts and Paige lifted her eyes back to the gypsy woman’s pretty face. “Yes. I do.” She heard Gavin make a grunting sound over her shoulder and even though she wanted to see his face, she didn’t dare look just now. She was afraid of what she might see.
“Then ye shall go with him,” said the gypsy woman.
“I get no say in the matter?” Gavin spoke again, the terseness in his voice palpable.
“Nay, Highlander, ye do not.”
“Come, lass.” He put his hands back on her shoulders. “She can no help me.”
“I did no say I couldn’t help ye, I said she would have ta go with ye,” the gypsy woman piped in.
“Makes no never mind ta me. Ye are playing a game and we are no interested.”
“Hey, “said, Paige. “ Speak for yourself.”
“Lass,” he said, with a tone that bespoke a warning. “She can no help me.”
“Can you?” Paige asked looking directly at the gypsy.
She placed her hands on the table and folded one on top of the other. “I can.”
“See, “she said, turning in her seat for the first time to look at Gavin. Once she did however, she wished she hadn’t. She plodded onward. “She said she could help.”
Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two Page 30
