by Pam Binder
“They wished to welcome me back to life.”
“Of course, silly me. That’s perfectly natural.” He noticed her fists clenched at her side. “But it’s not natural, is it? So explain to me, in simple words, why it is that you and O’Donnell, and all the rest, can’t die?”
It struck him that she would accept only the truth.
Anything less, he would lose her. That was not some-flung he was prepared to risk, and what she was about to hear he knew she would find hard to believe. But she had the courage to pull him out of the bloodlust when he’d fought those who had killed MacDougal. He could trust that she would open her mind to new possibilities.
‘It began so long ago that the years number in the thousands, when human sacrifices to selfish gods were common practice. My people were gentle and peace-loving. But our island home was easy prey and frequently we were attacked. Knowing we could not stop the senseless murders, we searched for ways to help the victims survive. The ancients discovered a method to help the body heal from injury through a potion comprised of herbs and plant life from the sea. A stab wound healed in a matter of days, a broken bone within hours, and a scratch in minutes. They continued to perfect the formula and administered it at birth. The doses were continued each year until the age of seven. It was never designed to prolong life. That was never the purpose, but that was exactly what happened.“
“That’s an understatement.” Her voice quavered. “Any chance a mere mortal, like me, could get a drink of the fountain of youth?”
Lachlan shook his head. “The formula was lost when our island began to sink back into the sea.”
“I had to ask.” Amber twisted her hands together. “Suppose, just for the sake of argument, I believe all of this.” She paused. “I…” She swallowed and straightened. “I’m going to grow old, you’re not. That’s die bottom line. I don’t know if I can do that. Every time I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’ll wonder what you’re thinking when you see me. Will you still love me when I’m old? Will you stay with me out of pity, or obligation?”
She held up her hand as though to fend off an assault. “Don’t give me a flowery speech about how you only see what is in the soul of a person. I’m an ‘actions speak louder than words’ kind of woman. I’m going to have to work this through myself.”
He could read the play of emotions that crossed her face and saw the deep fear. And he felt powerless to help her. “Amber, you know how I feel.”
“Do I?” She sank down on the ground, as though all the strength had gone out of her legs. “I had foolish dreams that I could help you discover the excitement of our just spending time together. Of the importance of family. Time, I felt, was on my side. Because, as we all grow older and face our own mortality, we want to leave a little of what we are behind. We want to make a difference, we want to be remembered and to know that our lives counted for something.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I’ve accepted that I’ll never see my parents, my brother, or my aunt again, but they are always in my heart. I am who I am because of them. How can I make you understand?”
She took a ragged breath of air. “You’ll never grow old?”
He crossed over to the window and watched the whitecaps form on the loch. She was right about everything, even though he was unable to change. “I am immortal. For me, time is an illusion. I cannot change who I am.”
Her voice lowered. “Well, time is not an illusion for me. It’s very real. Each second, minute and day is precious. Maybe I value it because I can see myself changing, whereas you will always be as you are now. Fifty days, or fifty years, you’ll be the same… and I’m afraid we will grow apart.”
Lachlan turned to face her. He wished he could ease the pain reflected in her eyes. “Please believe that I will remain with you.”
Amber blinked away the tears. “That’s the problem. I know you won’t leave me. But I want more. I want you to stay because you love me.”
Lachlan rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away her doubts, but they would still be there the next day, and the next.
‘^bur love made me feel whole. When first I gazed on you, your physical appearance was beyond my dreams of beauty. Now I see more. Your radiance shall never be dimmed in my eyes.“
“Lachlan.” Her voice was whisper-soft. She ran to him and into his arms. “Hold me. Ifs hard for me to think it will work out between us. Where I come from, loving a person is very complicated. The big trend now is doing things together. When I’m ninety, I won’t be able to do the same things that I can now.”
He cupped her chin in his hands. “And what is it that you like to do?”
“I like to run.”
“For what purpose?”
She shrugged. “Just for the exercise.”
Lachlan smiled. “Then I shall look forward to your being ninety. I hate to run without a reason for the effort.”
A rooster crowed in the courtyard. Amber laid out the ingredients on the long trestle table in the cook-room. Eggs, flour, ground cocoa beans… she was forgetting something. Ever since Lachlan had been awakened by Marcail, Amber had been restless and unable to sleep. It had to do with Una. After an hour of tossing and turning Amber had given up and decided to bake brownies. If d seemed like a good idea at the time, but she kept remembering the depth of her conversation with Lachlan last night.
Most of it had been random thoughts spoken out loud, the “what ifs” of their relationship. Inevitably the subject of children arose. He had told her not to worry. She couldn’t get pregnant. Amber remembered how uneasy she’d felt and then she recalled having a similar conversation with Elaenor. The young woman was convinced she couldn’t have a child until she’d wanted one.
Amber had pressed harder. Lachlan explained that immortals were in a state of suspended sterility until they drank a magic potion. And, of course, there had to be a list of requirements. First, because he was the leader, he needed permission to even talk about the issue; the union of the person he’d chosen had to be approved, the stars had to be in the right alignment in the sky, and on and on. Knowing she couldn’t get pregnant should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. She had never appreciated how much she wanted children until remaining with Lachlan meant it was not possible.
She stared at the scattered ingredients on the table, unable to move. Amber reminded herself she’d been forced to absorb some pretty weird stuff in the last twenty-four hours and should take it one step at a time. Right before she’d drifted to sleep in Lachlan’s arms, she’d come to realize how deeply she loved him. Maybe, she reflected, that was enough.
Amber hadn’t seen Lachlan for two whole days. She sat on a bench in the waning light of a crescent moon looking at a white rose. She pulled off the soft petals, one by one.
“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me.” She tossed the flower on the ground and stared at the sky. That was not the question. The question was whether he loved her enough. Enough to love her when she grew old, enough to learn to value life in the same way she did. She leaned over, picked up the rose and twirled the stem between her fingers. Maybe she was asking too much.
Footsteps sounded on the walkway and she turned around expectantly. It wasn’t Lachlan. Marcail stood in the shadows, wearing a gown of black silk. The dress was more severe in style than usual. Maybe she should ask Marcail if she had another dress just like it. It fit Amber’s mood. She returned to her flower.
The swish of material invaded the silence as Marcail approached and sat down. “There is a great sadness in your expression. And I know Lachlan to be the cause.”
Amber held the stem of the rose tighter, accidentally pricking her finger on a thorn. A droplet of blood fell to the ground. She sucked on the cut on her finger.
“Tomorrow there will be a small scar where I scratched my skin. If the same thing had happened to you or Lachlan there wouldn’t be a mark.”
“That is true. However, do not deny the love between you and Lachlan. It shi
nes so bright that many are warmed when they are near both of you.”
“You’re talking about how I feel about Lachlan.
What about you and O’Donnell. Have you resolved your differences?“
Marcail fingered the pearls at her throat. “He made love to another.”
The rose petals crushed in Amber’s hand. “And exactly how long ago did this happen? Five years, ten, a hundred?”
“One hundred and twenty years ago. But time does not diminish the hurt, nor the offense.”
“I agree, but I’ll ask you the same question you asked me. Do you love him?”
Marcail looked at her hands in her lap. “Yes, but I cannot forgive him.”
Amber tossed the remaining petals to the ground. “I wish I shared your dilemma. He has traveled a long way just to find you, and is determined to wait until you change your mind.” She laughed bitterly. “You have something I will never have; time. Everyone makes mistakes. However, it’s how we react to them that makes the difference. You and O’Donnell have time. Lachlan and I do not.”
Marcail smiled. “I have lived to see the rise and fall of many civilizations, yet you have the wisdom to remind me of a truth I had long forgotten. Time is an illusion, Lady Amber, and love is the only reality. Listen to your own advice and do not be afraid of your emotions. They are what make us feel alive.” Marcail reached out and squeezed Amber’s hand. “Put aside logic, and listen to your heart. Lachlan needs you but he is not able to ask for your help.” She paused. “Una is dying. This has affected him greatly. He has not yet allowed himself to grieve. Indeed he does not know how. Go to him.”
A single candle on the mantel illuminated Una’s room. Amber, entering, saw that Lachlan knelt in the shadows beside the bed. He held the old woman’s frail hand. The silence ticked by in slow motion and the similarities between her aunt and Una merged. She was glad that Marcail had told her. Lachlan shouldn’t be alone. Amber had been teaching a class when she’d learned her best friend had been killed in a plane crash. The bottom of her world had fallen out.
She walked over to the bed wondering why he wasn’t talking to Una. It would help pass the time, for both of them. Looking closer, Amber had the answer. Una was already dead. She put her hand on Lachlan’s shoulder, wishing she’d come sooner.
“She has gone.” His voice was only a whisper.
Amber knelt beside him, putting her arm around his waist and moved closer until their bodies were touching. “I know.”
“I could not love her the way she wanted me to. For that, I hated myself. She deserved so much.”
“You gave your friendship.” Amber rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you know how rare that is? I mean, the type of friendship you and Una shared? You did not judge or try to change each other. It was pure acceptance.” She felt the tears brim in her eyes. She’d shared that gift with the friend who had died in the plane crash.
Lachlan turned toward her. “What am I to do now?”
“Remember her. Keep her always in your heart. That way she will never die.”
He drew her tightly against him. “The pain and regret are more then I can bear.”
Amber felt his tears against her cheek as he silently mourned Una’s death.
“ ‘Twas Subedei’s men who attacked you and killed the dog.”
Lachlan pushed away from the table and looked over at Angus. The Great Hall was empty as many had retired for the night. Now only the two of them remained. Una’s burial had taken place that morning and a day of celebration had been declared in her honor. Lachlan knew Angus had delayed informing him of the identity of the men until now out of respect for Una’s passing. The man was a good friend.
Lachlan nodded. “Subedei grows bold. Double the guard.”
“It will be as you wish.” Angus scratched his beard. “Your brother was saddened by the loss of MacDougal.”
Lachlan reached for an empty tankard. “Gavin openly mourned Una as though she’d been his mother.”
Indeed, his brother and Una had shared that type of bond. He had forgotten that in MacDougal’s death Gavin had also lost his best friend. Until now, Lachlan had never considered the animal to be anything more than protection. Perhaps he could never replace MacDougal in Gavin’s heart, but Lachlan could provide another friend. He put the tankard down.
“Come with me, Angus. There is something we must do.”
The courtyard was filled with clear morning light Amber sat beside Gavin and listened to him read aloud. He had greatly improved and even boasted that he was now reading for pleasure. She smiled, remembering how her brother compared reading to going to the dentist’s office.
She heard a puppy yelp and looked up. Lachlan appeared before them, holding a black ball of fur.
“I need to find a home for this mangy animal.”
Gavin shot off the bench and ran over to his brother. “Where did she come from? May I take care of her?”
Lachlan knelt down and handed the squirming puppy to Gavin. “She is from Lily MacKintosh’s litter.”
Amber’s breath caught in her throat. There was a subtle change in Lachlan. For the first time he had referred to one of the wolfhounds as “she” instead of “it.”
Gavin glanced over at Amber, giggling as he tried to avoid the puppy’s licking tongue. “She likes me.”
Amber smiled. Gavin had been melancholy all morning. She looked at the three of them close together. The puppy was alternating between licking Gavin’s face and nibbling on Lachlan’s hand. The atmosphere was charged with love.
Lachlan glanced at her and winked. “What do you think we should name this beast who is determined to chew clear through to the bones in my fingers?”
Gavin interrupted. “Amber should be the one to name her.”
“Aye. But more important, the name should represent wisdom-and understanding.”
Amber’s heart filled with hope as they included her in their circle. “Do you like the name Dora?” She knew the dear woman would like the idea.
The two brothers bent their heads together and whispered as though they were making a decision of die gravest importance. Lachlan nodded and motioned for Gavin to render their verdict.
“Lachlan and I feel Dora is a good strong name, worthy of the wolfhound she will become. But she should have a last name as well. We would like to use your name, MacPhee.“
“Dora MacPhee.” Amber laughed. “It’s perfect.”
With the puppy in his arms, Gavin stood and headed toward the cookroom. “Dora is hungry. I had better find something for her to eat.”
Amber closed the book Gavin had left behind. “That was a very nice thing you did.”
He shrugged. “Wolfhounds are fierce protectors of the castle, and this one was in need of a home.”
“I just realized something.” She grinned. “You are a fraud, Lachlan MacAlpin.”
He arched his eyebrow and sat down beside her. “And why is it that you call me such?”
“You didn’t give Gavin a puppy because you wanted another watchdog. You gave her to him because you knew he missed MacDougal.” She smiled. “I think there’s hope for you yet.”
“There is indeed hope.”
A soft warm breeze swirled the dust around her feet and in the distance she could hear Gavin playing with Dora. She felt better today than she had in a while. She’d done a lot of thinking since her conversation with Marcail.
“And, maybe, there’s a chance for us.”
He kissed her lightly on the nose. “Aye, those words are true. We are fated to be together, Amber MacPhee. One day you will believe it as well.”
She leaned toward him until their arms touched. The contact warmed her. “Tell me.”
He traced the outline of her neck with gentle fingers and his voice was a husky whisper. “I am empty without you.”
The words soothed her aching heart. They should have been enough. She turned away. It would be so easy to love him. Easy to live moment to moment, and not think of the t
omorrows. Through the dear, warm morning air Amber saw O’Donnell and Marcail walking hand in hand toward the Loch. They had made their peace. She should be able to do the same, but something held her back.
Amber tucked the book under her arm and pushed open the door to Marcail’s room. The chamber was bathed in the afternoon sunlight. Marcail, a needle in one hand, was sewing on a white linen gown.
“I saw you and O’Donnell in the courtyard earlier today.” Amber smiled. “Looks as though you’ve decided to give him a second chance.”
Marcail shook the finger she’d pricked with the needle. “Yes, but I am already regretting it. I hate to sew.”
Amber laughed. “So do I.” She examined the dress. It was a fitted linen gown. Celtic lettering, in gold silk thread, was sewn on the bodice and long sleeves. The gown was breathtaking in its simplicity, but not the type of dress Marcail usually wore.
“It’s beautiful. If you’re having trouble, why don’t you ask someone to help you?”
Marcail-wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Tradition dictates that I perform the task myself. It is the gown I shall be married in, if ever I complete the sewing of it.”
Yesterday they had discussed the fact that O’Donnell did not deserve to be forgiven; today Marcail was planning to marry him. Amber pulled up a chair opposite Marcail and sat down. She decided Marcail had two rates at which she traveled: turtle slow or speed of light. Amber preferred somewhere in between.
“So, when will the wedding take place?” Marcail looked out the window. “At the winter solstice we shall enter into the joining ceremony and drink from the cup that contains the Elixir of Life. A year from that date we shall enter into another ceremony that will unite us in marriage.” She glanced at Amber. “If the gods bless our union, I shall bear a child ten months after the second ceremony. You made me understand that if you love someone, the choice is simple.”
Cobwebs blocked Amber’s path and clung in her hair. She brushed her face, staying in the shadows as she followed silently down the narrow corridor behind Marcail. In the pre-dawn light Amber had decided two things. First, if they were to have any future together she must be honest with Lachlan and tell him she was from the twentieth century and second, that she wanted to learn more about his people.
