Love Everlastin' Book 3 (42 page)

By the time he was thirteen,
he could pick up an author's book and delve into their current
thoughts and routines.
Clairvoyance.
His talents had made it
so simple to avoid his own reality and to live through the lives of
others.

By the time he reached the
new oak, he picked up on the fact that Roan and Lachlan were not in
the carriage house. He stopped and released a breath of vexation.
Turning his head, he spied the men at the rhododendron hedge and
headed in their direction. The air was chilly but tolerable in his
shirt, and the snow was already turning to mush.

"Got to admire their
ingenuity," he heard Lachlan laugh.

Winston stopped a few feet
from their position. They were crouched and unraveling the yarn
from amongst the branches. Already a sizeable pile was on the
ground between them.

"If you say so," Roan
grumbled. He jerked on a strand of dark green yarn and fell on his
butt when it snapped free of its entangled mass. He laughed then
released a sound that resembled a choked sob. "Damn me, tha's
cold!" he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and inspecting the
soaked seat of his pants.

"Too much coffee," Lachlan
quipped, his dark eyes filled with laughter.

"Or too little bladder
control," said Winston.

Both men looked at him.
Lachlan straightened up and massaged the back of his thighs as he
asked Winston, "How did it go?" Lachlan flashed a grin, adding,
"You're no' a nubby toad, so either you didna see Deliah, or she's
feelin’ the spirit o' spring."

Winston struggled to appear
at ease, but he noted Roan watching him through slightly narrowed
eyes. A brief scan told him Roan could see through his tenuous
facade, and it made him feel all the more vulnerable, a slave to
his fledgling emotions.

"I saw her," he said,
forcing a smile, but unable to keep from glancing at Roan and
measuring his assessing perusal. "She's no' happy wi' the
situation, but she's no' upset wi' me."

"Good," said
Lachlan.

Roan nodded, a hand plucking
at the soaked material clinging to his backside.

"I saw Laura, too." Roan
glanced off to one side and Winston went on, "She looked as though
she'd been crying and hadn't slept."

"Damn me," Roan
murmured.

"Wha' o' Beth?"

"I didn't see her,
Lachlan."

Lachlan solemnly nodded as
his gaze bleakly regarded the house. Winston abruptly threw his
shields up to spare himself absorbing the others' grim moods. He
was melancholy enough. A compelling urge to run back to the house
shuddered through him. Resisting it taxed his ability to appear in
control and, to bide time until he settle himself into a
comfortable phase of apathy, he stepped beyond Roan, crouched and
started to unravel another section of yarn.

Several moments passed
before Lachlan asked, "Wha' are you doin’ ou' here wi' us,
laddie?"

The dry humor in the man's
tone elicited a chuff of laughter from Winston, but he sobered when
he looked up and found both men eyeing him through frowns. They
reminded Winston of a set of bookends. Side by side. Arms folded
against their chests. Eyebrows drawn down over piercing
eyes.

Standing, Winston again slid
his hands into the side pockets of his pants. "What's going
on?"

"You tell us," said Roan,
his tone gruff.

"Aye," Lachlan said, his
frown turning into a scowl. "I thought we friends,
Winston."

Winston thought better of
scanning them, instead, offering a light shrug. "We
are."

"Ah. I see." Roan sounded
flip, peeved. "You may be the psychic one, but Lannie and I
consider ourselves to be fair judges o' character."

Winston started to lower his
mind shield. He couldn't understand what was bothering the others,
and he wasn't in the mood to play guessing games. But as he was
about to reach out and scan them, Lachlan stepped forward and shook
a finger at him.

"No, laddie. One to one, mon
to mon, why are you wastin’ yer time ou' here wi' us?"

Anger erupted inside
Winston, so abruptly and unexpectedly, he spoke without benefit of
auditing his thoughts. "I'm asking maself the same question!" He
pointed toward the main house. "There's a womon in there who asked
me to remain wi' her. But for some bloody misplaced sense o'
loyalty to both o' you, I'm here getting lip instead o' loving from
her!"

Winston trod a circle while
he collected the bits of anger he'd been harboring for the past two
weeks, and when he squarely faced Roan and Lachlan, his cheeks
reddened and he could feel his temples throbbing with an erratic
pulse.

"Will one o' you please
explain to me why you cherish pride above the love and respect o'
your women? Can you? Can you climb down from your testosterone high
long enough to think o' how the women must be feeling abou' our
conduct?"

He laughed like a man on the
verge of a breakdown, and threw his hands up to emphasize the
depths of his pique.
"We
caused this. They've more spine than the lot o'
us, and I bloody well don't like ma part in their
suffering!"

The men stared at Winston
for a long pregnant moment before Lachlan shifted a heated gaze to
Roan and asked, "Wha's a testosterone high?"

Chagrined, Roan made a face.
"It's a mon thing. I think."

His expression changing to
one of wry amusement, Lachlan swerved his eyes to Winston. "So, tis
loyalty to friendship wha' wrenched you from Deliah's side?" He
clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. "Shame on you,
Winston. I'm an old mon and Roan here, weel, he's a proud Ingliss.
No' the best o' excuses, but we've no' yer education nor yer
worldliness. Friendship is grand, laddie, but no substitute for the
love o' a womon."

"Did you insult me?" Roan
asked Lachlan, bewildered.

"Aye." Lachlan's shrewd gaze
remained fixed on Winston. "I insulted us both. For a good
cause."

Roan snorted but didn't
otherwise respond.

Running a hand across his
mouth, Winston heaved a sigh to calm himself. "I'm sorry. It was ma
choice to leave, and I used you both as an excuse to
avoid—

"Facing the truth o' bein’
in love," completed Lachlan sagely.

"We're ou' here to give our
women the time to cool off," said Roan. "Deliah doesn't have Laura
and Beth's short tempers. Ye're no' foolin’ anyone but yerself,
Winston. You can smile and put on the airs o' a mon wi' no' a
trouble on his mind, but yer eyes always betray you."

Emotions rose and clogged
Winston's throat, making it impossible for him to speak. He turned
to face the house and folded his arms across his middle. Shortly,
Roan and Lachlan stood to each side of him, their hands clasped
behind them and their gazes fixed on the house.

Again it struck Winston how
alike were the two men. More like close brothers than men who had
once been enemies. Even their heartbeats were synchronized. Most
peculiar.

"If I thought Laura was
ready to talk to me, I'd be cozyin’ up wi' her in our bed and
bringin’ in our own kind o' spring gladness."

"Aye," Lachlan sighed. "I'd
be doin’ ma grovelin’ for forgiveness right proud, then spendin’
the day remindin’ her why she fell in love wi’ me in the first
place."

Lachlan turned his head and
somberly regarded Winston's profile. "But Beth isna ready or I
would have heard from her. If naught else—" He surveyed the house
with unmistakable longing. "—I would have seen her watchin’ me from
one o' the windows. For her to make herself unseen and unheard, tis
a deep hurt ma actions have dealt her. I'm no' only takin’ this
time to let her temper wane, but to find the courage to face
her."

Roan lowered his head and
poked the ground with the toe of his right shoe. "We're responsible
for draggin’ you into this mess." He looked up and met Winston's
gaze. "Don't let our stupidity keep you from Deliah."

"I went to Shortby's
willingly," said Winston, disheartened. He sighed and closed his
eyes for a second. When he opened them, he looked heavenward as he
spoke. "I've never allowed maself to have friends. It's been..." He
smiled almost shyly as he lowered his gaze to the ground in front
of his feet. "...an experience. One I don't want to
end."

He walked six paces then
turned and faced Roan and Lachlan. "I owe you both a great deal. Ma
sanity, for one. I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful, but I
love Deliah, and I no' only should be wi' her, I
need
to be wi'
her."

A broad grin spread across
his companions' faces.

"Laddie," Lachlan said out
the side of his mouth, "tha's wha' we've been tryin’ to tell
you."

"Ye're wastin’ time," Roan
said with an exaggerated sigh and a sparkle in his eyes.

His heart pounding wildly,
Winston bobbed his head. "I'll come by to see you later." He
started to back up. "Much later." His facial muscles broke out in a
grin and he felt ecstatically buoyant, as if spring had awakened
the darkest corners of his mind and heart. "Don't let Beth and
Laura wait too long."

"If things aren't resolved
by tonight," said Roan, "I plan to storm the house in the
morn."

Lachlan shivered and cast
Roan a harried look. "Ma exact thoughts. Fegs, mon, I think we're
spendin’ too much time thegither."

With a laugh, Winston turned
and lit into a semblance of a run, moving as quickly as the
still-slick ground would allow. He didn't look back but kept his
focus on the house. As he made his way to the kitchen door, he
tried to imagine Deliah's reaction to his return. How could he have
been so stupid to leave her again? Where had he found the strength
to walk out of the kitchen, knowing everything he wanted and needed
in life was right there, watching over him?

He burst into the kitchen,
startling Beth. She looked up from the sink, her face pale, her
eyes wide.

"Sorry," he said
breathlessly, closing the door. He faced her, knowing he looked
ridiculously giddy, but not caring. "I need to see
Deliah."

"I believe she's in her
room."

"Thank you." He started to
run for the dining room door, but stopped short of reaching it.
"Beth?"

She looked at him a bit
warily from over her shoulder.

"I know it's no' ma
place—"

"Then don't," she said
coldly, and returned to washing the dishes in the sink.

Winston heaved a ragged
breath. "I have to. Please."

For a moment he thought she
would keep her back to him, but then she reached for the dish towel
on the hook to the left of the sink, and turned while drying her
hands. She was in her nightgown and robe, her light brown, curly
hair tousled, her eyes underscored with shadows. "Get it off your
chest," she said dully.

Again his throat felt
blocked. Clearing the psychological sensation, he shifted nervously
then said, "I know there's no excuse for the way Roan, Lachlan, and
I have been acting." He cleared his throat. "This is more difficult
than I thought."

"If you're about to plead
Lachlan's case, I'm not interested."

The words finally
formulated, and he gushed, "Beth, it's his love for you tha'
frightens him."

"That's ridiculous. Dammit,
Winston, I didn't think anyone could hurt me the way he has! I'll
be damned if I let him get away with this!"

"I don't blame you. I don't!
But it wouldn't hurt you so deeply if you didn't love him, Beth.
All I'm suggesting is tha' when he approaches you, listen to wha'
he has to say."

Tears rose in her eyes as
she trembled against the anger pushing for release. "Before or
after I run him through with one of his swords?"

A choked laugh escaped
Winston before he could suppress it. "Before, I hope. I'm sorry I
upset you."

She turned back to the sink.
"Worry about Deliah. Winston?"

"Wha'?"

She didn't look his way, but
said in a small voice, "She's really having a hard time dealing
with all the uproar around here. Don't say or do anything to make
her feel any worse than she does."

"Unless she's averse to
accepting ma proposal, I hope to make her very happy."

She whirled at this, her
paleness vanishing beneath a glow of joy. "She
thinks...."

"Wha'?"

A hand lifting to rest at
the base of her throat, Beth replied, "I shouldn't have said
anything."

"Beth, please tell
me."

She nodded. "She thinks she
isn't worthy of you or a life among us. Winston, she loves you so
much."

He smiled from the very core
of his being. "I know, and I've been a perfect ass."

"No one's perfect," she
quipped, and he blushed. "Thank you for telling me."

"Are you superstitious,
Beth?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to beg
you to keep your fingers crossed for me."