The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  “Nay. We’re not,” she said, pulling back.

  He turned to face her. “Ye will come with me now. It’s imperative that we talk. There are things we must discuss before ye make a choice we’ll both regret forever.”

  “Ye needn’t worry. Coll isn’t taking me to the abbey.”

  “He’s not taking ye anywhere until we’ve had this out.”

  She glowered at him for several long moments before huffing in exasperation and grabbing her mantle from him. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  She scowled and didn’t speak as he took her by the elbow and led her downstairs.

  “Ah, Claire, there ye are,” said Hugh as they reached the great hall. “I thought maybe we could—”

  Tavish put up a hand to stop whatever his brother was about to say. “Not now, Hugh. Claire and I are going riding.”

  “Then perhaps I’ll join ye,” he said, falling into step with them.

  “I said not now.”

  His brother got the message. “Ah, right. I’ll see ye both later.”

  Claire’s scowl deepened, but Tavish didn’t care. This was too important.

  It took a few minutes to saddle horses and arrange for guardsmen to join them, during which time Claire’s mood didn’t improve.

  Still, as they mounted up and rode out of the bailey, Tavish smiled to himself. At least seeing her angry was an improvement over the calm, detached, emotionless Claire who had done everything in her power to avoid him for days.

  They rode through the village without speaking. He couldn’t help but be reminded of their first ride together, when he’d been as irritable as she was now. Once they reached the open heath, he didn’t object when she urged Belle into a canter. He did the same, riding beside her. At his request, the guardsmen stayed well behind them.

  As they rode, she remained silent, and the stubborn set of her jaw suggested she would be unlikely to start a conversation.

  He hated uncomfortable silences, but he waited, believing the right time would come.

  Finally, she reined in, stopping. “Have we ridden enough now?”

  He nodded. “Aye.” But as she turned her mount towards Castle Ranald, he dismounted.

  She scowled at him. “What are ye doing?”

  He smiled. “We’ve ridden enough, but now I’d like to walk with ye for a while. I said we have things to discuss.”

  “Nay, we don’t.”

  “Ah, perhaps a discussion is too much to ask for. I’ll rephrase that. I have things to say and ye will walk with me and listen.”

  She spluttered, appearing taken aback by his demand. “I…you…I don’t want…”

  He ignored her protests and lifted her off her mount, as she appeared to be in no hurry to dismount herself. “Before ye work yerself into a temper, remember ye did this to me once. I believe when I told ye I had nothing to say, yer response was, ‘the up side is that ye won’t interrupt me while I speak.’ And while I’d rather have a conversation, having ye at least listen to what I have to say will be enough to start with.”

  When the guardsmen drew nearer, he handed the reins of both horses to them, then held a hand out to Claire. “Walk with me.”

  “I’ll walk with ye, but ye needn’t hold my hand.” She turned and walked away. But he was beside her again in several long strides.

  They continued walking in silence until they were well out of earshot of the guardsmen.

  Finally, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ye know, I wasn’t particularly happy the first time we did this, when ye called me an arse.”

  She huffed. “I didn’t call ye an arse, I said ye were behaving like an arse. And as far as that goes, ye are again.”

  “Now why would ye say that?”

  “Because ye’re changing the rules.”

  “What are ye talking about?”

  She stopped and turned to him. “Tavish, ye were the one who told me ye didn’t want to be married. Ye said ye weren’t ready. Ye said ye loved someone else and as long as ye did, ye wouldn’t marry someone who deserves more than ye could give them.”

  “I know I said those things, but—”

  “Nay, Tavish. I said things too, remember? I was happy at the abbey and didn’t want to be married either. And ye didn’t want me to fall in love with ye. There was to be nothing between us. I was going to see what the secular world was like and ye were going to try to get used to the idea of allowing a woman into yer life, knowing that someday ye’d have no choice.”

  He put a finger to her lips. “Wheesht. For someone who said we had nothing to discuss, ye’ve managed rather well. And ye’re right. We both said those things. But the situation has changed.”

  “I know it’s changed. In selfishly attempting to just enjoy these weeks, I have misled yer parents. I wouldn’t have chosen to hurt them for anything, but I have.”

  “What are ye talking about?”

  “It never occurred to me that yer mother would become so…attached. And now ye’re only making it worse.”

  “I’m sorry, Claire, ye’ve completely lost me.”

  “Yer mother wants us to marry.” Claire’s tone sounded as if she were speaking to a very dense child.

  “Of course she wants us to marry. That’s why my parents invited ye here.”

  “By all that’s holy, Tavish, I know that. But we agreed that wasn’t going to happen and I’ve done my best to convince yer mother that we don’t belong together. Still, she is going to be terribly hurt when I leave. I don’t want that.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “Then ye’ll help me? Instead of doing things now, like this, that might make yer parents think ye want to marry me?”

  “Ah…well…nay, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have fallen in love with ye, Claire.”

  “Nay, ye haven’t,” she practically shouted. “Ye can’t have. Tavish, ye were the one who said it wasn’t possible.”

  He shrugged. “I was wrong.”

  She scrubbed her face with her hands and started pacing. “Ye shouldn’t have fallen in love with me. Ye said ye wouldn’t.”

  “Actually, I don’t think I said that.”

  “Well, it was implied when ye said, ye loved someone else and ye didn’t want to risk breaking my heart.”

  “Claire, please forget what I said. I was wrong.”

  “Ye don’t love someone else?”

  “Nay. I mean, I did. A part of me always will. But like I said, since ye’ve been here, things have changed. I have been able to put that heartache to rest.” He reached for her to stop her pacing and taking her hands in his, pulled her close. “Claire, I’ve grown to love ye more than I ever dreamed possible. I haven’t felt this way in years and I honestly never believed I’d feel this kind of love again. I want ye to be my wife.”

  “Tavish, ye don’t understand—I can’t stay.” But even as she said it, her beautiful blue eyes were filled with indecision.

  “Ye don’t belong in a religious order, Claire. I know it, and I think ye do too.”

  “But I have to go back.” Her tone was plaintive.

  “Why? Have ye no feelings for me? Yer brother seems to believe ye’re open to the idea of marriage. Would being my wife be such an awful fate?”

  She looked away. “Nay, of course not. And I do have feelings for ye. In spite of my best efforts not to. But I don’t belong here.”

  He put a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. “Ye belong where yer heart lies. Could it lie with me?” He leaned down and kissed her lips softly.

  He heard her quick intake of breath, but she didn’t turn away. He slid his hand behind her neck, cradling her head as he deepened the kiss.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed and she opened her lips to him.

  He groaned, putting his other arm around her waist and pulling her to his chest.

  She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck.

  When he finally broke the kiss, she turned her head to the
side and rested it against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Ye weren’t meant to be a nun, Claire.”

  “Ye have no idea,” she whispered back.

  “Then why are we even talking about this?”

  “Because…well, it’s complicated.”

  “Do ye love me?” he asked, a little worried that he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “I do love ye.”

  “Then it’s not complicated.”

  She pushed lightly at his chest, stepping back, out of his embrace. “I’m sorry, Tavish, ye don’t understand. No one does. I need time to think.”

  “But ye aren’t saying nay?”

  “I’m not saying anything other than I have a lot to consider.”

  ~ * ~

  Later that night Cassie was still wrestling with what Tavish had said.

  He loved her.

  He had said he hadn’t felt love like this for years. For years? How long had he nursed a love for a woman he couldn’t have?

  It didn’t matter. He loved her now and she loved him too. But maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe she had arrived here so broken and adrift that she’d clung to the first mooring she’d found. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love and she definitely wasn’t supposed to stay.

  She had to go home.

  A little voice deep within her asked, why?

  Because I’m a twenty-first century woman. I don’t belong here.

  Why?

  My life is there.

  Is it?

  She closed her eyes and thought about the life she’d left. She’d had no plans, no goals, no dreams left. Although she had begun to consider a direction for her future, it was all still nebulous. She might become a teacher. She might study art. She might really piss her family off by working as a waitress for the rest of her life.

  My family.

  Just the thought of them made her heart ache. In spite of everything, she loved them. She wanted to have them in her life. Part of her had always nursed the hope that things with them would change. Still, that was before she’d shaved her head.

  And, of course, remembering that made her think of Tom. It had been over three months since he died and she was finally able to breathe when she thought about him. She was ready to move forward again and that meant going back to her own time. Plans and goals and dreams would follow. Surely.

  And don’t forget about Mike.

  If nothing else put the brakes on the idea of staying here, that should have. She couldn’t stand the idea of him having to deal with her death.

  But she also couldn’t stand the idea of how her death here would hurt the people who loved her.

  She didn’t know what to do. She needed to talk to someone. Someone who understood her position. She needed to talk to Gertrude. Unfortunately that feisty angel didn’t seem to make an appearance just because someone wanted her.

  Then she remembered the question Coll had asked of her, What is it that ye’re afraid of?

  She was afraid of a lot of things.

  She was afraid of hurting the Ranalds.

  She was afraid of hurting Mike.

  She was afraid of being hurt herself.

  She was afraid of loving Tavish.

  Wait a minute. Why was she afraid of loving Tavish? She already loved him didn’t she?

  And then it hit her like a rock fall. That was the entire problem. She did love Tavish. But Tavish loved the person he thought she was. He loved Claire Morrison. The reality of who she really was might be too hard for a medieval man to bear.

  If he ever found out the truth, Tavish wasn’t likely to continue loving her. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she believed this was probably the main source of the angst she was feeling. And the only thing she could do to resolve it was to tell him.

  She couldn’t imagine that going well.

  Still, while telling him, and having him react badly, was likely to hurt like hell, she needed to do it.

  Of course there was always the chance that once he knew everything, he’d accuse her of being a witch, she thought wryly. Still she had no real choice. She loved him and before she made the decision to stay, he had to know who she really was. She would tell him first thing in the morning.

  Chapter 19

  In the bright light of day, Cassie didn’t feel quite as confident in her decision from the night before. All Hell would break loose if Tavish accused her of being a witch.

  On the bright side, Lady Ranald might not be quite as upset about her leaving if everyone believed her to be a witch.

  Somehow, even as dark as it was, that thought was oddly helpful. Leaving people behind who would sigh with relief that the witch in their midst was gone was exponentially better than leaving people who mourned her death.

  When she went down to breakfast, she thanked all the angels and saints that the MacLeans weren’t there and Tavish was.

  She sat beside him, and not wanting to be overheard, she spoke softly. “I need to talk with ye, alone.”

  “Certainly. Ye’ve made a decision?” His expression contained equal parts hope and fear.

  “Aye, but we need privacy to talk.”

  “We can go riding.”

  “Nay. I don’t want to take the risk that the guardsmen might overhear us. Can we go to the chapel?”

  He looked even more concerned, but nodded. “Aye. Of course we can. There should be no one there.”

  He took her hand and walked out of the keep, offering no explanations to the questioning looks cast in their direction.

  Once inside the chapel, Cassie took a quick look in the sacristy to make certain that Father Paul wasn’t where he could hear them.

  After she was certain they were completely alone, she turned to face Tavish. He looked guarded, as if he were expecting terrible news. What she did next even shocked her twenty-first century self. She put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

  She poured everything she was feeling into it—all of the love, fear, hope and indecision that churned within her.

  He responded by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close and returning her kiss.

  She melted against him. God, she wanted him so very much. She could lose herself forever in his embrace, in his kiss.

  But she had to deal with the reality of her situation first. With great difficulty, she broke the kiss. She didn’t step away from him right away. She needed to feel his love and strength for a few more minutes before she did something that might make her lose it forever.

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Do I dare hope this portends good news?”

  She sighed and stepped back. “I’m not sure. I hope so.”

  “I don’t understand. Either ye’ll marry me or ye won’t.”

  “Actually, it’s not quite that simple. I’m sorry to be so secretive, but this is extremely important. I’ve thought a lot about what ye said yesterday.”

  A pained look crossed Tavish’s face. “Please tell me ye haven’t decided to become a nun. Because I promise ye, if nothing else convinces me ye don’t belong in a holy order, that kiss does.”

  She chuckled, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks. “Nay, Tavish. I will not become a nun. Ever.”

  “Oh, thank God. I was terrified of losing ye there for a moment.” Before she could say more, he gathered her in his arms for another scorching kiss.

  His lips left hers for a moment. She looked up at him. “But, Tavish—”

  He cut her off with another kiss and heat suffused her core. There was simply no fighting it, she just let herself savor the moment. When he finally released her, she rested her head against his chest again. She did love him, and in spite of the fervor with which he kissed her, she feared when he knew the truth about who she was and how she came to be here, he might not be able to handle it.

  She sent up a silent prayer. Dear God, please don’t let the truth turn him against me.

  A tiny part of her questioned the wisdom of this plan. Maybe
she should just let it go. She could live out the rest of her life simply as Claire Morrison. It would be easy. She wouldn’t have to face the pain of the past or take the risk of him running the other way when she mentioned time-travel.

  But as easy as it would be, she couldn’t do it. She was not Claire Morrison. No matter how much she wanted to leave Cassandra Wren Calloway and the hot mess that was her life behind, she knew that would never be possible. In her heart she was Cassie and always would be. The fact that Tavish had never actually known Claire and had only fallen in love with her after Cassie’s soul took up residence in Claire’s body, was some consolation.

  Still, to stay here and marry him, without telling him who she really was, felt wrong. It felt like a denial of her entire life—her family, her education, and the love she would always have for Tom. After all, Tavish had been honest with her about loving another woman. Unless he knew the truth about her, she’d never be able to tell him about Tom.

  “Claire, this is killing me. Please tell me what ye’ve decided.”

  She took a deep breath to gird herself and stepped back from him. “I will. But there is still something we need to talk about. There’s something you need to know about me, and you must hear me out before we make any decisions.”

  “Nothing you say—absolutely nothing—will change my mind about ye.”

  She looked into his eyes. They were so hopeful and full of love. The kind of love she never thought she’d experience again. She blinked back the tears that welled. “I hope so. I may have to remind ye that ye said it in a few minutes.”

  His brow furrowed. “Claire, what could be so terrible?”

  “It isn’t terrible, it’s just that there’s more to me than meets the eye and before we can both go forward with the rest of our lives, ye must know about it.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She nodded, but still hesitated a moment before launching into her story. This could go so badly wrong. “Have ye ever thought about time—about how it feels as if it goes ever forward—and yet, wondered what it would be like to go backwards to another time?”

  His expression became very serious. Damn. She was going to lose him.

  “Yes, actually, I have.”

  She blinked. That wasn’t what she expected. “Ye have?”