Timeless

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter 22

Ri awakened in smoke and ash. Her head was pounding, her hands bound behind her, fire illuminating the hut she'd been left in. She could see fire raging outside, felt it's heat on her face even through the walls, heard the screams of people running, and dying, in terror.

Memories crept into the forefront of Ri's mind. She had been dressing in their chambers, hers and Shaw's, preparing to go for a ride. She'd been alone, thinking about how happy she was, despite her recent sadness. It seemed that Agatha had abandoned her, abandoned her family. Ri hoped one day to see the woman again, to demand answers, but until then she would make do. No, that was too resigned. Ri was happy here, truly happy with Shaw and his people. If she was being honest with herself, she was happier here than she had ever felt at home. She did miss her mother, wished to see her again. Ri thought of what her mother must be going through, worried sick that her babies had disappeared, probably presumed dead by now.

Or maybe they had died in the first place, Ri considered. She remembered that truck coming at them, had felt some sort of impact. Maybe she, and Fiona, and Austin . . . maybe they had died that day in the car. Maybe their mother had already buried them. In a way, Ri hoped that was the truth. That way, her mother got closure, instead of a lifetime of worry and wondering what happened.

Back in the present, something moved on the other side of the hut. Ri wrenched her eyes open, strained to keep them from closing again as she searched the shadows in the corners. It was Iain, sitting opposite to her, his back to a wall. He looked at her with such sadness and guilt.

"Ri," he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Ye should be," a voice rumbled from the doorway. "Ye kidnapped the Lairds' bride-tae-be. Yer in big trouble Iain," Darrach stepped into hut, the flickering glow of the fire reflected brilliantly along his drawn blade. Iain didn't move, didn't blink, simply staring up at the man.

"Are ye going tae kill me?" He sounded like he was asking about the weather.

"Nay," Darrach shook his head. "Yer fate is for the Laird tae decide. However," he turned the blade on Ri, "should ye hae killed his Lady afore I found ye, then yer death by my hand would be justified." He grinned triumphantly. That's when Ri noticed Iain's bindings, around both his hands and feet.

"It was you," Ri rasped her voice hoarse. She remembered now. There had been a knock on her door, and he'd clubbed her when she opened it. Dazed, semi-conscious, she'd been unable to fight back. She'd woken up in the stables hours later, bound and gagged in an abandoned, forgotten stall. Iain had found her, had begun to untie her, then Darrach had clubbed him from behind. He'd saddled Iain's mount and tied Ri and Iain in the saddle, then gotten his horse ready as well. That's when Hamish had walked in. "You shot Hamish," Ri accused, remembering the crossbow Darrach had produced at the boy's startled gasp, remembering Hamish's wide, terrified eyes as the bolt to his abdomen had sent him reeling back and toppling over, just as Darrach had swatted Iain's horse to send it galloping out of the gate before following on his own. She prayed the poor boy hadn't died, that he lived to tell everyone Iain had been framed.

"'Tis nothing personal," Darrach shrugged away her accusations. "When I first saw ye, I kenned ye'd be the end of me. Of course, 'twasna ye, nay yet anyway, but still. I did what I had tae. I remembered e'erything, all that ye'd done tae me, all that ye'd taken. Wolf . . . Shaw . . . Mayhap I should hae killed him too, but I loved him too much then tae try. But then ye came back. Ye just appeared out of nowhere. And I kenned, ye both had tae go, or I'd ne'er be safe."