by Anne Barwell
"No," Cathal said firmly, though there was a waver in his voice. "This was my fault." He looked up at the sky and then at Mikey. "It's noon. I expect you haven't eaten lunch. You must be hungry. We'll meet in the field tomorrow, and Tomas and I will help you build your ramp for your skateboard."
"You're not angry at me?" Mikey's question was directed toward Cathal, Tomas very clearly ignored as though his reaction was either a given, not important, or both.
Cathal shook his head.
"See you tomorrow, then." Mikey turned without waiting for an answer and started running across the field toward the section of hedge the furthest away from the tree.
"You're going the wrong way!" Tomas yelled after him.
"No." Cathal shook his head again. "There's a lane on the other side of the hedge, I believe, and some sort of... vehicle stops there regularly. I've heard it." His voice was flat, his tone subdued, his gaze fixed on Mikey until he disappeared from view.
"Cat?" Tomas cursed Mikey under his breath. While he understood that Cathal had attempted to give Edward's side of the story, his reaction to Mikey's comment still seemed a little off. It wasn't just the fact he'd apologized to Mikey. There was something else.
"I'm fine." Cathal slipped his hand out of Tomas's, bending to pick up one of the stones he'd been staring at. For a moment he seemed almost in another world, standing so still and totally focused on something else, perhaps a memory, that only he could see. Tomas might as well not be there. "I hate this!" he said suddenly, throwing the stone with a force that surprised Tomas. "I've waited so long, and then finally... and I do something stupid like that!"
"Cat?" Tomas pulled Cathal into his arms, making reassuring noises and stroking his hair. "Hey, it's okay. This isn't just about Mikey, is it?"
They stood for a few minutes, the wind coming up around them, Tomas with his arms around Cathal. When Cathal finally spoke, he didn't pull away but leaned farther into the embrace Tomas offered. "I just want to belong somewhere," he said in a choked voice. "I don't here, and I no longer do with my own people. I don't want to live like they do. I just can't anymore, and I...." His voice trailed off.
"You can belong wherever you want," Tomas reassured him. What were his people like that they could have ostracized him like this? Tomas couldn't imagine anyone doing that to someone like Cathal. With the way he'd spoken to Mikey, it was obvious as hell that he cared about people and had only been trying to help.
"I wish it was that easy." Cathal wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Tomas. I shouldn't have lost control like that. It isn't fair on you."
"Let me decide that, Cat." Tomas kissed the top of Cathal's head. "Do you want to sit and talk for a while? We have some coffee left, and I have some leftovers from morning tea in my bag that I brought for lunch. I thought you might like to try some more of Heidi's cooking." He tried to keep his voice light. "You don't have to go yet, do you?"
"No." Cathal tilted his head up to brush his lips against Tomas's. "We can share lunch and talk for a while. I'd like that." He smiled. "I can stay for another few hours. I'm not going back until I have to. Not this time."
"Why don't you stay longer?" Tomas asked. "There are spare rooms at the inn. I'm sure Heidi and Donovan wouldn't mind." He'd almost suggested that Cathal could share his room but then decided against it. Although he was fairly sure that Cathal, like he, wanted more than what they'd done already, he wasn't about to take advantage of the fact Cathal was upset. For some reason Cathal had issues about their relationship not being equal, and Tomas wanted to prove to him before they went any farther that it was.
"I can't." Cathal extracted himself from Tomas's embrace. "I wish I could. Right now I just want to walk away from them, but I can't." He spread his arms in a gesture of frustration. "They've made sure I can't."
"What do you mean?" Tomas's eyes narrowed. Had Cathal's people hurt him or done something to him to curtail his freedom? He'd already said that he was on a short leash. Surely he couldn't mean that literally?
Cathal glanced around nervously. "I can't explain. I'm sorry." He sighed. "I've already told you more than I ever should have. If they find out, we could lose this too."
"Where are you from, Cat?" Tomas's shoulders stiffened, his tone reflecting his anger. "Surely you don't need to go back if you don't want to? They can't make you. I won't let them."
"Neither of us would have a choice," Cathal said flatly. "I disobeyed them once. If my family hadn't intervened, we would not even be having this conversation. I doubt they would be so lenient if I transgressed a second time."
"If you're in that much trouble and they are forcing you to do something against your will, we can call the police. This is England, the twenty-first century, and you're an adult. You don't have to just go along with this kind of crap."
Cathal shook his head. "No!" he said firmly. "It is not that simple. We do not follow the same rules as you do."
"Then stay with me," Tomas suggested. This was crazy. He and Cathal had not known each other a week, and already he was offering him sanctuary from God knew whom and what.
"No!" Cathal's fists clenched and unclenched. "I can't put you at risk. I won't. Don't ask me to." He looked at Tomas in an expression that could only be described as desperate. "Don't ask me to," he repeated. "Please."
"Can you at least explain?" The only time Tomas had felt this helpless was when he and Kathleen had been separated once while in foster care, neither of them wanting to leave the other but being told it was for their own good, as no one could be found who was prepared to take both of them. He remembered being dragged away from his sister, both of them crying and fighting adults who had more power than they did, but in the end they had lost. He'd been too young to understand, and now, he wasn't given the chance to try. He couldn't go through this again. He wouldn't.
"No." Cathal's gaze dropped to the grass between them; the short distance could have been forever. Neither of them moved.
"Why not?" If Tomas at least knew what was going on, then he could formulate a plan to help.
"The less you know, the safer you are." Cathal's finger twirled around one of the laces on his shirt, pulling it tight and then letting it go.
"You don't trust me," Tomas said slowly. "Hell, you haven't even told me where you live."
"That's the problem." The lace raveled and unraveled again. "I trust you more than I have anyone in a very long time. I relax when we're together, and I say things I shouldn't." Cathal's shoulders slumped. "Perhaps I should just go, and you can forget me. I'm hurting you. I know I am."
"Come here," Tomas whispered, opening his arms.
Cathal shook his head. "I think I should go. This isn't going to work. It didn't for them; why should it for us?"
"No!" Tomas bridged the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Cathal. "I'm not letting you go. I won't!"
"You don't know me," Cathal protested, but made no move to free himself. "I can't tell you where I'm from or who I am." He was shaking.
"I don't care." Tomas held Cathal tightly. If someone came for him, they would bloody well have to drag him away, because Tomas wasn't about to let go without a fight.
"You would. They'd make sure you would. The price would be high. It always is." Cathal lifted his head, searching Tomas's face. "Why do you want to protect me, Tomas?"
"Why do you want to protect me?" Tomas countered.
"Because...." Cathal faltered, his voice choked and little more than a whisper. "Because I think I'm falling in love with you."
"You... what?" Tomas's arms dropped to his sides, letting Cathal go, his brain trying to process what had just been said. Those lines were the ones they'd role-played. It couldn't be real. People didn't fall in love this quickly unless they were characters in a book. "You can't," he said lamely.
"You asked." Cathal sounded miserable. "I told you. I thought...." He shook his head. "I say the words, and yet I put you at risk by saying them. If
I loved you, I wouldn't be doing that. It doesn't make sense."
"You mean it, don't you?" Everyone Tomas loved, he lost. Kathleen had been the exception, but he'd lost even her for a while. They were family, though; it was different. There was nothing tying Cathal to him, and if he was to be believed, there was no reason why, if his people, whoever they were, thought he was breaking their rules, that he wouldn't be taken away. Tomas couldn't afford to love in return. He couldn't take the chance of losing someone he cared about again. Everyone left, eventually. It was probably just a matter of time before Kathleen did as well.
"You're scared." The words were a statement, not a question.
Tomas answered them in the same manner, his voice very matter of fact. "Yes."
"So am I." The scrunched-up material fell from Cathal's fingers. "I should not have spoken to you that first day. I knew I was taking a chance even then."
"Then why did you?" This was ridiculous. There was only the hedge between them and the inn. Anyone could come out and find them. That anyone could be Mrs. O'Neil. Tomas didn't want to continue this conversation here. Hell, he just wanted it to have never happened. He didn't talk to anyone about this kind of thing. He just didn't.
"I was curious and I was lonely. I wanted to talk to someone." Cathal shrugged. "I'd seen you arrive the day before, and you looked interesting. There was something about you I'd never felt from anyone else before."
"Felt?" Tomas supposed he should feel complimented that at least he had looked interesting, that Cathal hadn't chosen someone else to talk to, or in fact the next person who had come along. His next words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, before he'd given Cathal the opportunity to answer his earlier question. "Would you have taken the same chance with someone else?"
"I took it with you," Cathal replied simply.
"That's not what I asked." It was a question that, really, he should know better than to ask, especially as the answer could be one he didn't want to hear.
"I really don't know. You were there, not someone else." Cathal smiled, the first one he'd given since Tomas had asked him if he could stay, but it didn't reflect in his eyes like his smiles usually did. "Would... would you prefer I hadn't?"
"No!" Tomas shook his head. However much Cathal couldn't or wouldn't tell him, Tomas did not want to give this up, although at the moment he hadn't quite worked out what exactly this was. Cathal said he was falling in love. Tomas wasn't entirely sure how he felt yet, and it was something he would not say unless he could do so honestly.
"Good." Cathal seemed to relax slightly, and then his head came up as though he was listening. Reaching for Tomas and pulling him with him, Cathal ducked down so they were both crouching behind the hedge, completely out of sight. When Tomas opened his mouth to protest, Cathal placed one finger on Tomas's lips, his expression apologetic.
The front door of the inn slammed shut, voices growing louder. Mrs. O'Neil passed a comment about manners and young men these days, but Heidi's reply was muffled and Tomas couldn't make it out. Gravel scrunched under the women's feet as they walked by. Very aware of the sound of his own breathing and racing heartbeat, Tomas was sure that they were going to be caught.
This was ridiculous! He and Cathal were hiding behind a hedge like a couple of kids scared of being caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar, and yet they were doing nothing wrong.
Cathal's grip on Tomas's arm tightened. Heidi and Mrs. O'Neil's voices grew fainter. It suddenly occurred to Tomas that he hadn't seen any strange cars outside the inn. Did Mrs. O'Neil drive? Perhaps Heidi would have to take her home, and they were heading toward the barn which doubled as a garage for that pink... thing.
After a couple of minutes, Cathal let out the breath he'd been holding and straightened again, Tomas following him. "They've gone," Cathal said. "Sorry, but I didn't want to talk to anyone else right now, not after everything that has happened today."
"Don't worry about it," Tomas reassured him. He didn't like being around other people and forced to make small talk at the best of times.
A loud, mechanical purring noise, interrupted by the occasional splutter, filled the air, and Cathal jumped, glancing around fearfully. It was followed by an equally loud crunch. Tomas grimaced. So much for Heidi passing comments on good driving and the health of her gear box! As if on cue, the Land Rover whizzed past them, pausing when the brakes were slammed on. Another crunch followed as Heidi turned the corner out onto the main driveway leading onto the road.
Cathal stood staring after it, leaning over the hedge to get a better look, his mouth half-open. "What was that?"
"Heidi's Land Rover," Tomas explained.
"Her what?" Cathal looked blank for a moment and then nodded. "Is it a vehicle of some sort?" He hesitated, as though hunting for the right word. "A car? Or is it an automobile? The one I've seen over the other side of the hedge is much bigger. It seems to hold more people."
"Don't you have cars where you come from?" Tomas was curious. Wherever it was, Cathal's explanation of not being from around here seemed to be rather an understatement. And yet he suspected if he asked Cathal directly, it would only serve to agitate him, especially as he was convinced that the more Tomas knew, the more danger he would be in.
"No." Cathal shrugged. "We use other means of transportation." His voice softened, and he gave Tomas a suspicious look. "No, I'm not allowed to tell you what. And just because our methods of doing things differ does not make my people any less dangerous."
"How did you know I was thinking that?" Tomas demanded, wondering if he should add mind reading to the list his mind was already beginning to formulate on those so-called methods of doing things.
"It's a logical assumption," Cathal explained. "I've also seen the mistake made before. Underestimation is dangerous." He sighed. "I've done it myself where they are concerned, and I'm probably doing it again in still being here."
"Do they know you are here talking to me?" Tomas couldn't help but glance around, wondering if they were being watched.
"I don't know." Cathal slipped his hand into Tomas's. "I suspect they know I am doing something I shouldn't. After all, I do have the reputation for it." He squeezed Tomas's hand. "We could be on borrowed time, or we could be perfectly safe and they have no clue. There's no way of knowing until it's too late."
"But the less I know, the safer I am?" Tomas wasn't so concerned about his own safety but about Cathal's. If his people were aware, what was to stop them from preventing him from coming here again? Each time they said goodbye or Cathal disappeared, it could be forever.
"Yes." Cathal leaned forward, kissing Tomas softly, tracing his tongue over Tomas's lips. "And the less I say the more chance we have of being able to see each other, because they will perceive you as less of a risk to them."
It wasn't the complete truth; Tomas wasn't stupid enough to believe Cathal's explanation that fully, but after what had already happened today, he wasn't about to push any farther.
But for now he would go out on one limb, at least. "The inn's deserted, Cat." Whatever their "methods of doing things," it was doubtful they could see or hear through walls. "We could collect my stuff and have lunch and coffee inside. You said it's been a while since you've been there, and it's probably safer, too, while there is no one around. It should be at least an hour before Heidi gets back, and Donovan's out." He searched Cathal's face, trying to gauge his reaction. "I could show you the painting," he added hopefully, though already knowing the answer would be no.
Cathal's eyes flickered between the tree, the spot in the field where they'd left Tomas's bag when they'd gone after Mikey, and the inn. He let go of Tomas's hand, one finger tracing the twig bracelet around his wrist. Finally he took a deep breath. "Yes. All right, I will."
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Chapter Fourteen
It didn't take long to collect the Thermos and Tomas's bag from where they'd been left. He'd debated for a spl
it second waiting until after lunch, but he didn't want to risk the letters or his writing journal. The food could be replaced; those couldn't.
Cathal seemed to take a deep breath when they walked through the gap in the hedge toward the front door of the inn. How long had it been since he'd done something as simple as this?
"Are you okay?" Tomas asked when Cathal strengthened his grip on their joined hands. He'd told Tomas that this was his first time inside the inn since the night of the storm, but surely that didn't mean that he hadn't ventured farther than the field during the last five years?
"I'm fine," Cathal reassured him, although he did seem a little more pale than usual, and his words were very softly spoken. "All right, maybe not quite fine," he admitted, noticing Tomas watching him carefully. "This is a bit of a step for me. I haven't been this far for quite some time, and it's more difficult than I thought it would be."
Tomas leaned over and kissed him briefly. "I'm not going anywhere, Cat. If anything happens, we're doing it together, okay?" The pressure on his hand tightened and then relaxed. Cathal appeared to need that increased physical contact when he was nervous about something.
"Okay." They reached the door, and while Tomas was hunting for the key Heidi had given him, Cathal took a step back, his attention taken by the climbing roses, his lips curving into a slow smile. "Love at first sight," he murmured.
"Excuse me?" The key found and the door opened, Tomas turned to usher Cathal inside. He was slightly flushed, his hand brushing hair from his face.
"Lavender roses," Cathal explained. "They mean love at first sight." The flush grew deeper. "Enchantment as well, apparently." He pointed to the dark pink rose which embraced the other two. "That one is often a way of showing one's appreciation."
"Oh." Tomas remembered the rose that had been left in his room. "Umm, I didn't know that."
"Alice liked flowers, particularly roses." Cathal followed Tomas into the inn. "She had a book about the meanings behind each one. It was very interesting reading." He looked momentarily embarrassed. "I enjoy reading, so I tend to read anything I can. She used to keep me well supplied in books. Christian wasn't as inclined that way. He preferred to be out hunting, while I hated it."
