She grabbed him by the sleeve, dragging him away from the welter of excited prattle and flutter of swishing skirts gathering near them. “If you’ve got issues with Braham or Cullen, there’s a story there you’ve never shared with me. Spill it.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
“You’re pulling this out like taffy. I can see it in your eyes.”
“If ye’re so sure there’s a story, tell me what it is.”
“You’re driving me nuts, McBain.”
Sometimes in her role as gut-checker-in-chief, she had to make giant leaps, like putting the puzzle back together without using the flat-sided pieces. Daniel was a Scotsman like Braham and Cullen. But what else did they have in common? Cullen, Braham, and David all had the Civil War adventure in common. Daniel was old enough to have fought in the war. So what connected them? A woman? No, that couldn’t be it. Daniel’s wife was dead, and Braham would have died if not for…
Charlotte.
Goosebumps rose on the back of her exposed neck. “Does this have anything to do with Charlotte and your feelings for her? I know you were in love with her once.”
The unflappable David McBain choked on cigar smoke and stared at her, frozen. “I wasn’t—”
She placed a finger against his lips. “I know it was unrequited. I also know you still love her. Not like you love me, but you’ll always have feelings for her. And before you ask, I’m not threatened by that. I know what happened in Washington. I’ve heard it from you, Charlotte, Jack, and Cullen. The facts are always the same, but there is an undercurrent in all the stories. What happened in the past before we met doesn’t matter now. If it did, I’d never be able to step foot in Scotland out of fear of running into one of your girlfriends, and I’d never be friends with Charlotte.”
“If ye suspected, why didn’t ye say something?”
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Ye’re the queen of confrontation, why wait?”
“Whoa. You should have told me. Throwing it back on me because I never asked isn’t fair.”
“Fair? Ye of all people know nothing’s fair in love and war. And why the hell are we having an argument in the middle of a goddamn lobby in Leadville, Colorado?”
“We aren’t arguing. We’re having a discussion, and I agree. It should be in private, not promenading around the lobby of a fancy hotel, but this is where we are, and we’re not going anywhere until this is settled. You’re deflecting, and I want to know why Daniel is a perceived threat and Braham and Cullen aren’t.”
David shook his head. “I knew when I first heard yer name that ye’d always be one step ahead of me.”
She paced in a small circle, putting her thoughts together, then stopped in front of him, wishing she had a podium with notes to stay on point while arguing her case.
“Besides politics,” she began. “Braham has always had two passions: horses and wine. Those skills were transferable to the twenty-first century, and he and Charlotte have made a good life for themselves at Mallory Plantation. Cullen, on the other hand, is from the nineteenth century and intends to return.”
Her mind was clicking, but she didn’t have the important pieces yet. She proceeded slowly. “If Daniel goes to live in the future, he’ll need work that challenges him. He’s in law enforcement now, but to do that with a mainstream agency would be too big a challenge. I don’t think even you could come up with a workaround for that, which means he’ll want to join you.”
Kenzie tilted her head, considering the pieces of the puzzle she had in hand, but there was still a four-sided, fully interlocking piece missing. What was it? David stroked his chin, playing with an invisible goatee. As far as she knew, the only information he had about Daniel was what he’d gleaned since they met earlier in the day. Oh no. There was more. Before the show, while she’d been talking to Noah, David had been asking Daniel about his family in Scotland.
The missing piece slipped into place and she had a moment of immense satisfaction, or as David often called her moments of insight—an orgasm. “I got it.”
A smile etched lines at the corners of his eyes. “I love watching yer mind at work.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “It’s like having sex in public. So what is it?”
“There’s only one thing that could threaten you that much. Daniel must be a MacKlenna.”
David studied the cigar, rolling between thumb and forefinger. “If I use this stogie as a measure of time, I’ve smoked away five minutes, maybe six. Yer ability to solve puzzles is phenomenal, but ye’re wrong. He’s not a MacKlenna.”
She stared at him. “He’s not.” If Daniel wasn’t a MacKlenna, then what could possibly threaten David? She had another light bulb moment and the final piece popped into place. “Then he’s a Fraser.” Surprised, she stifled a desire to laugh out loud. The twists and turns of brooch adventures never failed to amaze her.
“Not exactly, but close enough,” he said.
“So does he or doesn’t he sprout from the Fraser family tree?”
“He’s an offshoot.” David’s face went a little slack, as if a light within had winked out at the flip of a switch. “Daniel’s sister is married to Blane Fraser.”
“Blane is Elliott’s middle name.”
“And his father’s and his grandfather’s, all the way back for several generations.”
She compressed her lips, and in her mind, constructed a Fraser family tree. She had seen it often enough, and as far as she could remember, there weren’t any offshoots: no aunts, uncles, or cousins noted on the branches.
“What does that make Daniel? A great-uncle?”
David glanced up at the ceiling, as if processing information. “Several greats, I think. Four or five.”
“That’s a distant connection…”
“Hell, everyone in the family has a distant connection.”
“That’s true, but they’re all direct lines. Daniel’s isn’t.”
“It doesn’t need to be,” David said. “If he marries Amber, they’ll have a double connection.”
“We don’t even know if they belong together, and if they do, what century they’ll choose to live in. Let’s not go marrying them off quite yet. And I still don’t see how Daniel’s position on the family tree threatens you. You’re like a son to Elliott. The two of you even have a secret language. Elliott will welcome Daniel, but you’ll always be his first born.”
“We’ll see.” David removed his hat, ran a hand through his light brown hair. The light highlighted the few strands of gray at his temples. He appeared tired and somewhat disconcerted.
Since becoming part of the clan, Kenzie couldn’t remember starting a day without overhearing a conversation between her husband and Elliott. She often wondered what Elliott had done during David’s deployment, because surely, Elliott hadn’t called David in Afghanistan to ask whether he should buy a stallion or sell shares of stock.
“Here’s something to think about,” she said. “Since Kevin’s paternity became common knowledge, has anything changed between you and Elliott?” She waved her hand as if swatting away the question. “Never mind. Don’t waste your time thinking about it, because the answer is no. And if anyone could threaten your position, it would be Kevin. My advice is to chill.”
“Chill?” David stubbed out the cigar and pushed away the ashtray. “That’s yer advice?”
“Right now, that’s all I’ve got.”
“I hope Elliott gets better legal advice than to chill and spill.”
The rustle of skirts closed in on them and Kenzie prepared to tell the next autograph hound to come back tomorrow, but it wasn’t a fan. The intruder was Mrs. Garland.
“There you are,” she said breathlessly. “Daniel isn’t here and Noah’s worried. Have you seen him?”
“He’s escorting Amber,” Kenzie said. “I’m sure they’ll be here any minute. David and I have been talking and lost track of time. Did we miss you coming through the front door?”
Mrs. Garla
nd held a white lace handkerchief to her flushed cheek. Kenzie almost laughed thinking how many times three kids and a job had left her breathless, especially dealing with the twins—stubborn Scotsmen like their dad.
“No. We came across the walkway from the theatre,” Mrs. Garland said. “The evening has exhausted Noah. He won’t admit it, but I can tell. I should take him home, but he refuses to go.”
“Where is he now?” Kenzie asked.
“Sitting at our table waiting for his father and Amber. I don’t have the heart to insist he leave before he sees them. I’ll go back and tell him it won’t be much longer.”
“Where are Mr. and Mrs. Hughes?” David asked. “I thought they were joining us.”
Mrs. Garland pulled a piece of paper from her reticule and handed it to David. “The maître d’ said Mr. Hughes stopped by after the show and cancelled. He left this note for you.”
Kenzie glanced over David’s shoulder to read the sweet thank-you note. “Amber will be disappointed. She was looking forward to getting to know them better.”
Mrs. Garland pulled the strings of her bag taut, settled it neatly on her wrist, and smiled. “They’re known to retire early. I wouldn’t take offense.”
“None taken.” Kenzie realized for the first time why she was so drawn to the woman. Mrs. Garland’s Virginia accent and the way she carried herself reminded Kenzie of Charlotte. Her cousin would always be an exemplary role model for how to handle yourself in stressful situations. A role model for not only the children to emulate, but adults as well—herself included.
“I’ll see you at the table,” Mrs. Garland said, as she gracefully strolled away.
Kenzie took as deep a breath as her stays would allow. “We haven’t finished our conversation, McBain.”
“Don’t fret about it. We’ll handle the new dynamics after we get home. A new Scotsman may be the least of our worries.”
“You’re thinking about the winery, aren’t you?”
“If it all goes up in smoke, the repercussions will go far beyond the financial hit.”
“This is the worst possible time to be away. We can’t stay here. Even though time might not pass in the future, we need to be mentally fresh to deal with the aftermath of the fire. I’ve only been here a few hours and I’m exhausted.”
“If ye’re not used to the altitude, fatigue can be a problem in the Cloud City.” He pulled her behind a column, and she tipped her head back until his lips came down and met hers with a passion that promised his life, his body, his love. “I want ye naked in my arms.”
In a whispered breath against his lips she asked, “Does this mean you’re taking back your threat?”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
For a moment time stood still and then she laughed. “Come on, McBain. Let’s go talk to Noah.” She corralled her petticoats, the hooked-up hem of her evening dress, and the yards of cloak. Then clasped her hand with his, and he tightened his grip on her fingers. Their clasp was a haven from the never-ending clatter of her subconscious as it worked through all they had discussed.
“Ye don’t think less of me now, do ye?” he asked as they wended their way into the dining room, following closely behind Mrs. Garland.
“Because you exposed your insecurities? God, no. Have you forgotten I was hiding under a sink? And besides, I know you better than anyone. More than Granny Alice. More than Elliott. Maybe not as much as Meredith, but she knows everyone’s insecurities.”
21
1878 Leadville, Colorado—Kenzie
The maître d’ at the Clarendon Hotel restaurant led Kenzie, David, and Mrs. Garland to their table, where Noah sat alone with his head down on his folded arms. Kenzie had spent the last two hours sitting next to him in the theatre, and she had fallen in love with his big blue eyes, his laughter, and his devotion to his dad.
Kenzie gently stroked his head. “Are you tired?”
He’d run his hand through his thick curls so many times that the pomade he’d used earlier to tame the unruly waves had failed and his hair now stuck out in all directions. The faint furrow of a straight part was visible on one side. Slowly, he sat back in his chair. One glance at his pink cheeks and tired eyes, and Kenzie wanted to sink to her knees right there on the polished wood floor and pull him close.
“Have you seen my pa?” he asked.
“He’s escorting Amber from the theatre. She had to change clothes, and I bet she had a reporter or two who wanted an interview.”
“Oh,” he said. “I was worried. The streets are dangerous.”
“They’ll probably come across the walkway like you did. They’ll be here shortly, but Mrs. Garland and I think you should go home and get some rest. You’re probably still sore from your fall yesterday. The best thing you can do is get plenty of rest, drink lots of fluid, and ice your arm. Where I come from, it’s recommended.
David signaled a waiter. After consulting with Mrs. Garland, two meals were ordered, along with cocktails for David and Kenzie. While they waited, Kenzie engaged Noah in a review of the show.
“Pa said Miss Kelly is the best guitar player he’s ever heard. I couldn’t take my eyes off her hands.”
“What’d you think of Mr. O’Grady?” Kenzie asked.
Noah blushed. “Don’t tell Miss Kelly, but Mr. O’Grady was my favorite.” Then he looked abashedly at David. “No offense, Mr. McBain, but I knew almost every song Mr. O’Grady sang tonight, and it was fun to sing along with him.”
They continued talking about the show for several minutes until the waiter returned with a basket of food. “The maître d’ arranged transportation at your request,” he said to David. “I’ll carry the basket to the front door. A hack should be waiting there.”
“Thank ye,” David said.
Kenzie tousled Noah’s hair and immediately had a heart pang, thinking of the twins and how they would have screamed if she’d messed with their hair. “Sleep well, big guy.”
“I’ll escort Mrs. Garland and Noah to the front door and get them settled in the hack. I’ll be right back.”
Noah didn’t try to repair the hair damage the way her kids did. “Mrs. Garland said you and Mr. McBain are leaving tomorrow. Is that true?”
“That’s the plan,” she said. “We have twin boys and a little girl waiting for us to come home.”
“If you were my ma, I’d never let you go away.”
Seeing the loneliness in Noah’s eyes, Kenzie was struck by how fortunate her children were to have two full-time parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Although the family complained about the boys’ precociousness—her description, not theirs—they all loved the three little McBains dearly.
Kenzie opened her arms. “Give me a hug, sweetie.” Noah wrapped his arms around her, and his little body heaved a deep, heart-wrenching sigh. Over the top of his head, she gazed into David’s misting eyes. He was thinking of their children, too.
“We’ll see you at breakfast.”
He kissed her cheek and stepped out of her embrace. “Good night, Mrs. McBain.”
She raised her right hand until the tip of her finger touched the outside edge of her right eyebrow, and she smartly saluted him.
“You’re not a soldier,” he said, grinning, but gave her a salute in return.
I was a soldier, and I’m here now because of what happened then.
She straightened his fingers and put his little hand in the correct position. “There you go.” He tried again, and she smiled. The twins would fall in love with Noah in a heartbeat, and the other kids would gladly welcome him into their tight-knit club.
David took Noah’s hand, winked at Kenzie, and escorted Noah and Mrs. Garland from the dining room.
While Kenzie watched them leave, she found herself pulled right back into the middle of her conversation with David, running a mental finger down the list of topics they had discussed. His non-denial denial that he’d been in love with Charlotte had stung, but what stung wasn’t that he hadn’t told her or
that he’d once cared for Charlotte, but that his heart had been broken. For such a strong man, he had such a tender heart, and when he loved, he loved well and truly.
David returned to the dining room a few minutes later with Amber and Daniel. Every head turned to watch as they strolled across the waxed and polished wood floor covered with an Axminster carpet. Amber dazzled the diners in a dark wine-colored gown. Decorative red glass beads glimmered in the gaslight. An odd buzz of energy quieted to a low murmur. No one could take their eyes off her. And if they did, her two escorts dressed handsomely in tailcoat tuxedoes would simply blind them. The two men moved with panther-like grace and confidence to command the room.
A lump formed in Kenzie’s throat. God, she loved her husband.
When they reached the table, and she could speak past the lump she asked, “Did you see Noah?”
“David said he’d just put them in a hack. I’ll have a drink with ye, then go home to put him to bed.” Daniel pulled out a chair for Amber and watched over her until she settled her dress, then he scooted the chair to the table.
“He’ll already be asleep,” Kenzie said. “He was dead on his feet, bless his heart.”
Amber glanced around the dining room. “Where’s Rick?”
Daniel cocked his head and frowned a little, so small a grimace that if Kenzie hadn’t been watching she would have missed it beneath his short-cropped beard. “Sitting in the back corner with three women and a bottle of Champagne.”
“He is?” Amber asked. “He could have waved when we came in.”
Kenzie was nonplussed. She glanced at David. “Did you know he was here?” When David didn’t react, she knew instinctively that he not only knew Rick was in the room, but he could accurately describe Rick’s three dinner guests.
The waiter brought a bottle of Camus Freres Fine Champagne to their table. “You ordered Champagne?” Kenzie asked, trying to recall the last time her husband ordered anything but whisky. “How nice.”
The Amber Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 8) Page 25
