Wild about the Witch (28 page)

As he put his hand on the door, she grabbed his kilt and whispered for him to wait. A crack of light from the other side showed her pretty, bruised face etched with happiness.

“No matter what, I love you, Quinn.”

She stood on her toes and kissed him on the mouth. He relaxed, letting the kiss be the only thing for that moment. He loved that she could do that to him, completely transport him from whatever happened to a better place. It was its own kind of magic.

“Ye complete me,” he said.

She snorted. She clearly struggled to keep it in, but after a series of strangled noises, she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she wheezed as he stood there, gobsmacked at her response to his heartfelt declaration. Just as his feelings were about to be seriously hurt, she threw her arms around him and pressed her face into his neck. “That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me, but it’s also a line from a very famous film.” She giggled again and kissed his earlobe. “You couldn’t know that, though.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “Let’s go before ye topple over from your amusement.”

He led her out of the creaky opening into an empty bed chamber. The chamber where they’d find Bella was only a few doors down the hall on that same floor. He patted the heavy pack full of medicine and vitamins, a thing that everyone from the future would not shut up about, and considered very important. He glanced at Lizzie, and all her mirth of a moment ago was replaced with trepidation. He squeezed her hand and opened the door to the main hallway.

A young guard stood posted a few yards away, and turned almost languidly to look at them. Before his face could register his surprise at seeing them come slinking out of the room, Quinn closed the distance between them and punched him cleanly between the eyes. The lad slid with a quiet thump to the floor.

“What happened to not causing a ruckus?” she whispered harshly.

He couldn’t remember which chamber Bella had the wee lad in, and turned in a circle, wondering if he should just start throwing open doors. They needed to get out of the hall as soon as possible, before more guards wandered by.

Lizzie grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the stairs, tapping softly on a door before opening it. She sighed with relief at what she saw, and pulled him through. In the chamber, Bella turned, her red rimmed eyes and splotchy face causing his heart to plummet. They’d tarried so long. Had it only been a day? It felt longer.

Even though Bella was a mother now, and technically older than him, he still viewed her as the bratty lass who had befriended his sister and made his life a living hell for a while. He didn’t know why he had such a soft spot for her. It seemed he was destined to always love women who gave him trouble. He strode to her and took her hands.

She crumbled to her knees in a puddle of tears. “Thank God ye are back,” she said.

Quinn got her to a sitting position on a chair, while Lizzie rummaged through the pack.

“How long have we been gone?” she asked, taking out a wee contraption and a bottle of pink liquid. “I can give him the first dose, and the doctor sent a big list of instructions for anyone else who’s sick.”

She headed toward the bed and gently lowered the blankets to wake the baby. Quinn tried to calm Bella while he watched her tenderly lift Callum’s head and help him swallow down the medicine.

“Four days,” Bella said, wiping her face on her apron and standing up, trying to regain her control. Quinn patted her shoulder and she smoothed her frazzled hair. “The illness claimed my Uncle Gordon, if ye remember him?” She sniffed and went to her son’s bedside, studying the medicine bottle.

“He was a good man,” Quinn said. “He saved Lachlan’s and my life.” He shook his head. “I know it must seem a long time to ye, but it was but a couple of months to me. I’m verra sorry.”

Bella smiled shakily at him, then turned to Lizzie. “How do I use all this?” She held up the pack full of bottles.

“What I gave him now should make a big difference, and fast,” she said. “There won’t be enough antibiotics for everyone, so you’ll need to triage. But there’s pain relievers and fever reducers for those who aren’t so bad. Keep the symptoms at bay, pump them full of vitamins, and their immune systems should get them through.” She held out a neat list. “It’s all here for your physician.”

“I didna understand half of what ye said,” Bella told her. “But I thank ye, and pray ye are right about it helping Callum quickly.”

“Ah, Bella, we really should leave at once,” Quinn said, remembering the guard.

He grimaced at Lizzie, who also seemed to have forgotten. She gasped and stood up.

“What did ye do?” Bella asked. “Pietro will return in a moment, he’ll want to thank ye, and say goodbye.”

“Tell him to meet us at the edge of the woods,” Quinn told her. “I may have knocked out your guard.”

“Hell, Quinn. Ye and Lachlan are truly cut from the same cloth.” She pulled him down for a quick hug, which softened the sting of her words. She smiled and gave him a long look. “I mean that in the best way, dear lad.”

He blinked rapidly to clear the moisture from his eyes. Bella squeezed Lizzie’s hands and kissed her cheeks.

“Be good to him, aye?” she asked. “Now hurry along. Ye’re lucky no one wants to come up here for fear of falling ill, or ye’d be in the tower now.”

Pietro waited for them when they made their way out of the small shed at the end of the secret passage. Quinn raised his fist, he was so startled by having someone standing there, tapping his toe.

“Did ye get lost?” Pietro asked with a grin.

“It’s dark in there,” Quinn said. He blinked in the midday sun and got his bearings. “My sister and the English lad will be waiting for us.”

Pietro kept beaming at him in a way that made him feel undeserving. He was no hero, and they’d almost been too late. Pietro clapped him on his bad arm and quickly grimaced at his mistake.

“Still hurt?”

“It isna so bad anymore,” he lied, clenching his teeth.

His angel Lizzie scowled at Pietro and wriggled her way between them to check his bandage. He made his face more pained than strictly necessary, enjoying her soft, fluttering hands and tutting noises. He’d maybe carry on that way for a day or two extra when they returned. It seemed she actually liked caring for him.

He groaned, knowing as soon as they set foot on Ferguson land, they’d be faced with whatever problems were besieging the clan at that time. There was always something. Lizzie mistook his complaining noise as her hurting him and quietly apologized.

“Ye didna hurt me,” he said. “I was thinking of home.”

“That bad?” she asked, looking nervous when he laughed.

They all made their way to the forest, Pietro insisting on expressing his gratitude the whole way. Quinn wasn’t used to anyone telling him he’d done well, and he didn’t know how to manage it. And Lizzie was no help, telling the story of how he’d taken the bullet in a far more complimentary light than the way it had really happened. He raised an eyebrow at her skilled storytelling and she shrugged.

At the forest, they found Catie and Oliver leaning against a tree trunk, rather too close together for his liking. His warning glare sent Oliver scrambling to his feet, and his sister gave him a sour look before shyly hugging Pietro.

“I wish I could see Bella and the children,” she said, looking longingly at the castle.

“I know Bella wishes it as well, but best ye not risk the illness. When ye’re in your proper time, we’ll arrange a visit.” He turned to Quinn, a sad smile taking over his face. “I recall it took a while for the hostility against your lot to die down, so it may be a year or more before it’s safe to come here. It may be hard, but I think it best ye do not mention what’s to come, should we see each other again. We’ve already tampered so much with the natural order of things, God forbid we should make it worse with our good intentions.”

“But, what if we could save those who died?” Lizzie asked, her voice full of pain.

Pietro looked away and swallowed hard. Quinn pulled her close and dropped a kiss on her head.

“We must accept it,” Pietro said. He wrapped his arms around both of them and kissed Lizzie’s cheek, stepping out of the way when Quinn took a playful swipe at him for it.

He turned to Oliver and pumped his hand. “I am like a third brother to Catriona here,” he said sternly. “And I have a vast army that follows me. Well, mostly.” He grinned, but his eyes showed he meant his words.

Oliver nodded politely and assured him no army would ever have to march against him. Catie glowed red and told Pietro he was ridiculous, and promised to visit when she was allowed.

After he left them, they traipsed further into the cover of the trees, not knowing what time of day it might be when they arrived. Oliver had a smug confidence in his ability to get them to the proper time, that Catie clearly found attractive, but it annoyed Quinn. He didn’t want the lad to think he didn’t have to work for his sister’s affection, just because he’d got her back safely.

“Maybe you should aim for a week or so after,” Lizzie said. “I mean, you probably couldn’t get us to the exact point we left anyway, but what if Wodge is still hanging around? Surely we haven’t forgotten him?”

Quinn rolled his shoulder, having no interest in meeting up with that wee villain and his strange firearm. “What was he after, Lizzie? Did he ever tell ye? I wouldna mind getting another crack at that bastard for what he did to ye.”

“It’s fine,” she said, laying her hand soothingly on his chest and smiling up at him. Her lovely smile did calm him. He traced her cheek, glad she could forgive and forget. He’d make it up to her somehow. “And other than hating time travelers, I have no idea what his beef was.”

“Let’s hope we never have call to find out,” Oliver said, already grinding up the fresh supply of herbs Lachlan gave him. Catie swept leaves and twigs out of the way to clear an area for him, and they all sat in a circle.

“I suppose I shall return to Auntie Gwen’s?” Catie asked.

Quinn thought about it, not sure there was a reason for that. He looked at Lizzie and she nodded eagerly. He was so glad she cared for Catie, it made his heart swell even more, and he thought he was already bursting with love for her.

“Or ye can return to the farm with us,” he said.

“I can?” she asked.

“Of course ye can.” He reached across the clearing to tap her on the nose. “Auntie Gwen didna want ye there because ye were unsupervised and turned into a wee heathen. But now we shall have a professional chaperone living with us.”

Catie blushed and looked to see what Oliver thought of the pronouncement that she’d ever been anything less than a perfect young lady. Quinn rolled his eyes at Oliver’s look of blatant disbelief. He’d learn soon enough if he stuck around.

“Ye’re welcome as well, Oliver. As long as ye like.” He forced the words out.

“Or,” Lizzie said pointedly. “We could go back to London. Your Aunt Amberly will be worried sick. She loves you very much, and I’m sure we could fix everything there.”

“Certainly,” Oliver said. “It would take very little managing. If that’s what you wanted.”

“How’s that for choices, lass?” Quinn asked.

“It’s verra overwhelming,” she said, looking down. “I shall think it over carefully, and not waste my opportunities.”

Quinn figured that was as close to an apology as he’d get from her, not that he needed one. “Are we ready, then?” He gripped Lizzie’s hand, eager to show her his life, and hoping she’d love it.

She nodded, her eyes shining. “So ready,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The end.

Mellie stirred the banana bread batter, absently listening to Piper and Evie’s wedding chatter. Less than a week had gone by since Catie and the others went back to their own time, and planning was now the top priority.

“Don’t you have class today?” Piper asked.

Trying not to be annoyed by her employer’s well-meaning mothering, she lied and shook her head. She knew she was being sinfully irresponsible in skipping, especially since she was so close to being finished with her nursing courses. The thought of actually being done, being a nurse at last, made her drag her feet. It seemed so final, and now she wasn’t sure. The only thing she knew to do was practice avoidance.

Filled with guilt at both lying and skipping school, she turned away from her friends’ kind faces and whipped the batter until it bubbled. It would be the worst banana bread she ever baked, which made her feel even worse. It seemed she was falling short at everything these days.

She set the bowl aside to chop pecans, hoping wielding a knife would ease her frustrations. Her old friend Shane waved at her listlessly as he made his way past the kitchen window toward the barn. His shoulders slumped and his head was bowed. Ever since Catie had left, without so much as a goodbye to him, he’d been dispirited and confused, moping around, a shell of his former, lively self. She grumbled, finding it hard to believe she could actually feel sorry for someone more than herself at the moment, but she did.

“Shane’s looking like a zombie,” she said. “I’m going to try and cheer him up so he doesn’t spook the horses.”

“That’s sweet of you, Mel,” Evie said. “He must have really liked Catie to be so down.”