Redeeming Vows (MacCoinnich Time Travel Trilogy #3)(21)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“She—she watched Briac sleeping.”

Tara’s eyes swelled with unshed tears. Liz knew that confession would cost her sister many sleepless nights. As a mother, she’d want to know if her son was in danger. “It’s okay, Tara. I didn’t let her near him.”

Tara bit down on her lip.

“Cian, look outside and see if anyone is close.

Quickly.” Myra lifted her hand. The candles blown out by Grainna’s presence lit once again. Myra used her gift, elevated the candles with her mind, and set them in a circle.

Cian poked his head back inside. “No one is close. The maids are by the fire attending the food.”

“Hurry.” Myra motioned for the women to join the circle. “Put Briac in the middle.”

“Are you sure?”

“We have to try.”

The women sat. Tara placed her son lovingly down and joined hands with Liz and Amber.

Myra cleared her throat. “In this day and in this hour, we ask the Ancients for this power. Keep this child from harm’s way, every night and every day.

Repel any object and any charm, cast his way which means to harm.”

“Someone’s coming,” Simon whispered.

“If the Ancients will it so, show us proof so we will know.”

The women repeated the words and opened their eyes. Like always, they hovered above the ground.

Briac flailed his tiny hands in the air and giggled.

He hovered two feet above the blanket he’d been laid on. “Hurry,” Cian sent a hurried whisper.

“Ready?” Liz asked.

Tara reached toward her son with her hands still entwined with the others.

“Now.”

The women fell to the ground. Tara’s jerky movement and attempt to catch her son was too late.

Instead of falling, Briac floated peacefully to the soft blanket.

“It worked,” Liz sighed.

“Thank God.”

Fin’s large hand opened the flap of the tent. He glanced in the room, met Lizzy’s gaze and then pivoted and said. “They’re fine, Logan. Let us find my brother.”

The flap closed before Logan could witness their guilty faces.

Before long, the men returned, reporting nothing out of place.

“None of us should venture anywhere alone,”

Ian reminded them once the camp quieted for the night and the family could gather inside the tent to talk privately.

“We move in pairs already.”

“Not always. We’ve grown lax as of late, seeking privacy for our basic needs.”

Liz would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so shitty. Men from the twenty-first century grumbled when women left in pairs to go to the ladies room. She wasn’t a prude, but at least in her time public restrooms had doors separating the toilets. Lord, did she miss toilets.

Hell, she’d settle for an outhouse.

“We sleep in shifts.” Ian continued to issue orders which none of them countered. “My men will watch the camp, but in here, you ladies need to be aware of Grainna’s presence should she return.”

“I think one of us should be in here at all times.”

Duncan said before glancing down to his sleeping son. “That may raise questions.”

“Forget the questions. I think Duncan is right.”

Fin crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes wandered over the tent covering them. “Grainna could return at any time. The women need their sleep.”

Liz met Fin’s eyes. In them, she saw him waiting for her to protest, to give him and the others a “we can stay awake as easily as you” response.

When she said nothing, his eyes narrowed and a slight lift in his brow displayed his surprise.

“We are trained to stand watch. The women are not,” Fin said. “I’ll take the first watch.”

“I’ll take the second.” Todd turned to Myra and kissed her quickly before walking from the tent.

Dinner was a quiet and swift affair. Although Liz pleaded hunger before Grainna’s brief appearance, she couldn’t consume all that much. The nervous twist in her stomach and the worry of the witch’s return was the cause.

Liz watched as the women settled into their blankets. Fin perched beside a trunk and laid his sword across his lap.

Myra extinguished the last of the burning candles and cast the space into darkness. Before long the deep, even breaths of the family filled the silence. A fire still crackled outside the tent where the knights who kept watch could keep warm and alert.

Liz forced herself to close her eyes and try to sleep. When she did, all she could see was Grainna’s floating image hovering above her nephew. She rolled onto her side, and tried counting backwards in her head. Once she reached sixty her mind wandered to images of the nineteen sixties, tie-dyed shirts, and Woodstock. Not that she’d lived in those times, but the heavily documented history made it easy to picture living in them. Grainna would have lived in the sixties. According to the Ancients and legend, Grainna had lived in modern times for nearly seventy years. The witch probably loved all the war and chaos she’d witnessed in those times.

Fin shifted, catching Liz’s attention. “Can’t sleep?” he whispered in the dark.

“No.” And trying to wasn’t helping. Liz gave up and dragged a blanket over to where Fin sat.

“You should try and sleep.”

“I have been for over what, an hour now? It isn’t working. I might as well help you stay awake.” She sat beside him, using the trunk as a backrest but was careful to keep herself from touching him.

“I won’t fall asleep.”

“I’m sure you won’t mean to.” He stiffened by her side. Even though she couldn’t make out his face, she knew she’d insulted him. “That didn’t come out right.”

“Most of what comes from your mouth doesn’t come out right.”

Liz muffled a laugh. She’d have been insulted if what he said wasn’t true. “I might have to make you pay for that remark,” she managed.

“I’m sure you will.”

Well good, at least he knew where he stood.

“Why didn’t you protest when Duncan suggested a watch in here?” he asked.

“I’m stubborn, not stupid.” Liz glanced up at his shadow. His face angled toward hers.

“No one could accuse you of stupidity.”

It was as close to a compliment as Fin had come in a long time. A pool of warmth spread over her as if he’d just praised her. Perhaps talking with him in the night wasn’t such a wise decision. Everyone in the tent slept and the two of them sat under hushed whispers like two lovers engaging in a little pillow talk before sleep could claim them. Not that she’d had much experience with pillow talk. The lovers she’d taken over the years never amounted to that many and with a son to raise, he didn’t afford her the time to spend long nights and easy mornings.