Sitting next to Connor, Mellie had just taken a big bite of her waffles when the bomb dropped.
Heath held the detonator. “So, sis, is there something you want to tell us about your boyfriend?”
She swallowed and looked around the table. Her family was looking up, interested.
“Nope. What do you want to know?”
Under the table, Connor took her hand in his, squeezing.
Her brother was using his lawyer voice. This couldn’t be good. “So, Connor McTavish. You’re from Scotland and a professor?”
Connor nodded. “I’m from Scotland. Not a professor.” Before her brother could gloat, he added, “Not anymore. Now I teach sword fighting. The pay is much better.”
“And yet I can’t find any record of you, and trust me, I’ve looked.”
“Heath. Leave the nice young man alone,” her mom said, but her dad was looking at Connor and frowning.
“There was an accident and I do not remember a great many things about my life. ’Tis why I have no papers.”
“Papers?” Cal put his knife down. “You don’t have any identification? How do we know you’re who you say you are?”
“Honey, we’ve been down this road before. What aren’t you telling us?” Her father had that look, the one that made her make up the fake boyfriend in the first place. Damn Heath and his nosy lawyer ways.
“I remember my name and from whence I came. At Mint Hill they tried to make me remember, but I could not.”
“Mint Hill!” Karen dropped her fork, the cottage cheese flying through the air to land on the floor. “That’s a psychiatric hospital.”
“So what? I spent time in one. Helped me a great deal. Leave Mellie and Connor alone.” Aunt Jilly glared from the end of the table.
At that, chaos erupted, everyone asking questions and talking over each other. Unable to deal with the drama, Mellie tuned it out, staring out at the water until everyone grew quiet.
“We need to have a discussion, honey.” Her father’s voice carried across the room, but Mellie had enough.
She grabbed Connor’s hand and pulled him up. “Got to run. Talk later.”
As she dragged him out of the marina, Mellie was fuming.
“How could you tell them you were in Mint Hill? That wasn’t our deal.”
She ranted and raved until she found herself in his arms. “Put me down. I’m furious with you.”
“Hush, woman. We will sit by the water and I will tell you once you calm down.”
“Calm down? You big, arrogant Scot. Everything was perfect until you ruined it. Now what do I do? I’m always the big failure. Poor Mellie, can’t keep a man, always picking losers. What are we going to do with her? They’re probably in there right now, planning an intervention.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Mellie woke on the sofa, her eyes swollen and her face puffy. Yesterday had started out so well, and then it blew up in her face. Connor had tried to talk to her, tell her why he wanted her family to know the truth, but she wasn’t listening. She was too angry. Even when he went on and on about Scotland and different times, she tuned him out.
It wasn’t her finest moment. She’d yelled at him, called him a crazy loser, and stomped off. When she caught him following her, she lost her temper and threw a cup at him. With a sigh, he’d turned away and told her that when she came to her senses, she could talk to him. He’d had the nerve to tell her not to take too long—he wouldn’t wait forever.
Mellie had gone into her art room, slamming the door behind her. Though all she did was sit and stare at her women. She’d fallen asleep in there. At some point, she woke up and went to the sofa, pulled a throw over her, and tossed and turned the rest of the night.
No way was she sharing the bed with him. If she did, she’d laugh and forgive him, and that wasn’t happening. Not after what he did. One simple lie—was that so difficult?
Bypassing the squeaky board in the hall, she tiptoed to the bedroom and peeked in. He was asleep on his back, one arm thrown over his face, the covers half off. Part of her wanted to crawl in beside him and apologize…but the memory of the looks on her family’s faces as he told them about Mint Hill, the sideways looks at Aunt Jilly, made her harden her heart.
It was early. The sun would rise in a half-hour or so. Settling in on the sofa, a cup of chai tea in hand, Mellie opened the laptop.
Unsure of how much time had passed, she stretched. The sun was high in the sky. One more cup of tea, then she’d take a shower. There on the sofa, laptop on his knees, was Connor. He frowned and turned the screen to face her.
“This is the man who left you.”
“So? I’m still mad at you. Leave me alone.”
Eyes narrowed, he ran a hand through his hair. “I wished to speak with ye. To tell ye why I told your family the truth.” He sneered. “You, Mistress Mellie, are still in love with Greg, though he ill-used you.”
“I am not. I was just curious.”
“You tell yourself lies.” He carefully put the laptop on the table and stalked past her to the bathroom. She heard the shower and then stomped out on the terrace to sulk.
By the time she’d calmed enough to talk to Connor, Mellie’s stomach rumbled. According to Cinderella, she’d missed lunch. What on earth had he been doing all this time? Had he left for one of his sword classes?
He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. The door to the bathroom was open, so she stuck her head in the bedroom. Nope. But she didn’t think he’d left, since his phone and sword were on the kitchen counter.
A noise made her turn. Mellie cocked her head, horror dawning. The door across the hall from her bedroom was open a crack. With a trembling hand, she pushed it open to see Connor surrounded by her work.
“What… How…how did you get in here?”
“The door was open.” He touched one of the pieces. “They are beautiful. I did not know you could create such beauty.”
Oh. My. Gosh. She’d forgotten to lock it last night. A buzzing noise filled her head, a rainbow of spots danced in front of her eyes, and Mellie could hear the blood moving through her body.
“These are private.” She pulled his arm. “Connor, get out. I mean it.”
“Harrumph.”
He let her pull him from the room. Beautiful. Yeah, right. Mellie saw the work through his eyes. He’d burst out laughing as soon as he was alone. It was her own fault for leaving the door unlocked.
As she pulled the door shut, she stopped. It was too late now, so with a shrug, she left the door cracked. Was it possible he meant what he’d said?
Things were still tense between them the next day. The museum always closed the week after Labor Day, so she had time to herself. Hoping to ease the tension between them, Mellie suggested a picnic in the park.
They needed to clear the air, but her pride was injured and she didn’t know where to begin, plus she was still mad Connor had accused her of not being over Greg. She thought she’d done a good job of moving on, of not stalking him every day on social media or talking about him incessantly, and she’d dated—was now dating—Connor. So what was his deal? If anything, she should be mad about him ruining the family reunion. Her family had taken turns calling, but so far, she’d let them all go unanswered.
While she sat on a blanket, reading, Connor played touch football with a group of guys he’d just met. He was a natural athlete, full of grace in the way he moved. She’d watched him train men one day in the park, seen how the sword became an extension of him.
Watching him, she could almost believe he came from the past, an ancient warrior, lost in time. But that was pure fantasy.
Engrossed in her book, Mellie frowned when clouds blocked out the sun.
“Mellie?”
Not clouds. “Greg. What are you doing here?” She looked around. “And where’s your fiancée?”
He sat down beside her, his face paler than usual. “Melinda left me. For a dentist with his own practice.”
“Oh. Sorry
.”
He took her hand in his. “Mellie, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I miss you. Melinda was never happy, always wanted me to spend money, and she never cooked. That woman couldn’t even boil a pot of water. She shrank all of my shirts, too.”
Too stunned to answer, she simply stared at him.
“I miss us.” He let out an awkward chuckle, a cross between a snort and a laugh. “I want you back.”
Words she’d wanted to hear since he’d dumped her—but they didn’t feel like she thought they would.
Greg took her by the shoulders and kissed her—well, more like he slobbered all over her face. While Mellie…she felt…nothing.
She pushed him away, wiping her face with her shirt. “I’m sorry, Greg. But we’re over. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for.”
With a wounded look, he left. She’d just picked up her book and gotten back into the story when another shadow fell over her.
“Geez, what do you want now?”
But it wasn’t Greg, it was Connor, and he was furious.
“I saw ye. With him.”
“Melinda dumped him. He was telling me about it.”
His t-shirt was damp with sweat, molded to his chest as he squatted, eye to eye with her.
“This is how modern women behave? Well then, I’ll tup ye, but the bloody hell if I want a woman in love with someone else.”
“What? I’m not in love with him. I told him I’ve moved on.” She placed a hand on his forearm.
“I saw ye kiss him.” He pulled away from her.
“That didn’t mean anything. And he kissed me.” But Connor had pulled away and stalked off. Mellie shoved her book in her bag and threw the blanket over her shoulder.
“Connor, wait. Let me explain.” She ran to catch up with him, panting and sweating. But he wouldn’t talk to her. The entire way back home, he stomped and grumbled in Gaelic under his breath.
In the apartment, he went to the bedroom and gathered up his things, stuffing them in a duffel bag.
“Talk to me.”
“Matt, the guide from the fort, has room for me. I am leaving you.” He tossed the phone and her key on the bed. “I willna be second to any man, especially one with no honor.”
The door closed behind him, and Mellie slid down the wall hugging her knees, the tears dripping off her nose. How had she messed things up so royally?
TWENTY-EIGHT
The next few days were a blur. Mellie didn’t remember much. It was like she was standing still as life passed her by. On Thursday, she was clocking out a few minutes early, not wanting to rehash the big breakup with Claire, when Cal showed up.
“Hey, sis, how are you holding up?”
She was too tired to fight. “Awful. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”
To her shock, he hugged her. Her big brother was not a hugger.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed.” He leaned down and picked up her tote. “Best to get it over with. Everyone’s waiting.”
Her shoulders slumped as Mellie dragged her feet out to the car. The drive to her parents’ seemed much shorter than normal, then again, when she wanted it to take forever, time always sped up. Thanks, fate.
“We’re back,” Cal called out.
None of the kids came running, and no dogs barked.
“Where is everyone?”
He stayed behind her, most likely to make sure she didn’t make a run for it.
“The kids and the dogs are next door. Evening swim before they close the pool for the season.”
Dressed in shorts and a golf shirt, Cal looked ready for the weekend, though for the first time, Mellie noticed the gray in his dark hair. He was getting older—they all were. It was time for her to put on her big-girl panties and grow up.
Her mom hugged her tight. “I’ve missed you. Now sit down and have some tea and let’s hear the tale.”
“No judgment,” Heath said.
When Mellie arched her brows, her brother put a hand over his heart. “Promise.”
Neither of her brothers’ wives said anything other than hello, but they weren’t going anywhere. Looked like she’d have a full house.
“…So that’s why I made up a fake boyfriend. It was funny the first ten times hearing, ‘Poor single Mellie.’ But after that, year after year? It hurts. Dating is hard.” She met their eyes, one by one. “You all are so fortunate. You found each other.”
Mellie looked at her parents. “I want a relationship like the two of you have, and it’s really hard to find. Talk about setting the bar high.”
“I’m sorry,” Karen said. “It’s fun to hear about the men you date. I’ve forgotten how much the breakup hurts.”
Sue apologized as well. Heath cleared his throat.
“But sis, you should have told us about Connor spending time in Mint Hill. The guy could be dangerous.”
“Or unstable. And not to be mean, but you do have a history of poor choices,” Cal added.
A door slammed and Aunt Jilly walked in. She walked straight over to Mellie and hugged her.
“At least her young man was able to get the help he needed. It doesn’t mean he’s damaged. Just because someone has a mental illness or a problem, don’t cut them out of your life and pretend they don’t exist.” She glared at everyone. “Or whisper behind their backs every year.”
There was silence until Mellie’s mom patted the sofa next to her. “Looks like we all have a lot to talk about today. Come and sit, Jilly. Can we talk after Mellie finishes what she has to say?”
Her aunt smiled, the first smile Mellie had seen from her in a long time. “Of course, sis.”
Mellie took a deep breath. “Connor isn’t mentally ill. He lost part of his memory in the accident at the museum.”
She took a sip of her tea. “But I should have told you guys the truth. I messed up. Then he saw Greg kiss me and he dumped me.”
“You and Greg are back together?” her mother asked.
Before everyone got too excited, Mellie held up her hands. “No. I thought I wanted him back, but I don’t. It’s over.”
They talked, caught up on each other’s lives. Jilly told them about her time at a place like Mint Hill and how she’d rebuilt her life. Emotionally drained, they took a break to eat dinner.
During dessert, her dad cleared his throat.
“There’s one more item we need to discuss.” He looked at her mom, and Mellie knew what was coming. With all the man drama, she’d forgotten about school.
“I ignored your refusal to work at the company and had HR take a look at you. Only it seems we can’t use you in the accounting department—”
“Because I don’t have an accounting degree. I have an art degree,” Mellie finished. “I found out I hated numbers, so I took a few art classes and loved them. But I knew how you all talked about Aunt Jilly’s paintings, and I didn’t want you all to say the same about my work, so I kept it a secret.”
She finished her slice of apple pie and took a deep breath. “I wanted to make it as a professional artist and then tell all of you so you’d be proud of me. But I know I might not ever make a living from my art.”
Before they could interrupt, she held up a hand.
“I’m okay with that. For now. I love working at the museum, and I’m going to take my work to a gallery, get their opinion. In another year or so, if nothing pans out, I’ll find a job that pays more.”
“Okay, honey,” her dad said. “We just want you to be happy.”
“Do we need to hunt Connor down and beat him up for dumping you, sis?” Heath looked eager, and she laughed, the first time in days.
“Not at the moment, but I’ll keep the offer in mind.”
TWENTY-NINE
Connor wiped the sweat from his brow. The leaves were changing color, the bite of autumn in the air. The bottle of water empty, he pulled another one from the cooler at his feet. Coolers were a great invention. He loved putting water or beer in one with ice, and two days later it was s
till cold.
“Fitz. Thought you and Tracy were headed to Florida.” He clapped his friend on the back. Fitz was dressed in slacks and a sweater vest with a bow tie, his hair neatly combed. “Your woman takes good care of you.”
“She does. We’re getting married in Florida. You’re welcome to come.”
Connor shook his head. “Nay. I have many eager to use a blade.”
“You might change your mind.” Fitz handed him a small package.
When Connor opened it, he gasped. “How?”
“It’s best if you don’t know. The passport is legitimate, as are the driver’s license and birth certificate. My gift to you.”
“I have gold to pay.”
“No. Without you, I couldn’t have escaped.” Fitz shook Connor’s hand. “I would have died in there.”
“Thank ye.” Connor pulled Fitz to him, clapping him on the back. “I will miss you both.”
“I have to go. We’re driving to Florida and Tracy is waiting.”
“Fitz?”
His friend turned, wiping his eye.
Connor placed a gold coin in his hand. He had plenty left. “A wedding gift.”
“It’s too much.”
But Connor shook his head. “’Tis rude to refuse a gift.”
“You know, I never asked, but one day, you’ll come to Florida, we’ll have a beer, look at the water, and you’ll tell me about Scotland.”
“I would like that.”
Fitz strolled away, calling out over his shoulder, “Medieval Scotland.”
So the sly old fox knew. Grinning, Connor gazed at his papers. He could go to Scotland, his homeland. Mellie would love it.
“Harrumph.”
But she did not love him. He must let her go.
As Connor put his blades away, one of the men from his class came back.
“Did ye forget something?”
The man held out a card. “I called my cousin. It’s not Scotland, but hear me out.”
Beyond Time: A Knights Through Time Travel Romance Page 13
