she missed him? Or had he thought her missing in time, never to return to his? The fact he would’ve known that Gwen couldn’t bring her through time changed things. Had he moved on? Did he marry? Would she find him married already? And could she take that risk, should she return, and he was with another?
She met Kenzie’s concerned gaze and frowned. Going back was a gamble, a big one that involved her heart. She shut her eyes and thought for a moment. Could she do it? The image of Aedan, looking down at her, laughing, his eyes sparkling with mirth, twisted her stomach.
Of course she should go back and if she found him with another, she’d fight to get him back. “When did you want to do it?”
“We can do it now, if ye like. I’ll make sure ye land in the healer’s cottage, twelve months after ye left. I’d hate for ye to arrive right in front of a servant, I’m not sure how ye’d explain that away.”
Abby nodded, standing as Kenzie did. The young woman clasped her hands. “It was lovely meeting ye, Abigail Cross. I hope ye enjoy yer life.”
“So do I,” Abby said, laughing a little at both the illogical situation but also, with the knowledge that she would soon see Aedan. “Perhaps you could visit us, Kenzie. You’d be most welcome.”
Kenzie smiled, and it was like looking at Gwen again. “I may. Time will tell.”
The ancient language Abby didn’t understand wrapped about her, pulling her into their meaning and pushing her back in time. The room went quiet and Abby shut her eyes as Kenzie started to disappear, the room distorting and making her dizzy.
And then there was nothing but the sound of horses outside, and the damp dirt floor beneath her bottom. Abby opened her eyes, and the unmistakable cottage of Gwen’s—although rebuilt and modernized a little—greeted her. Medicines, seeds, and dried plants were scattered about and she laughed. She was back, and now it was time to find her laird.
She walked over to a closet where Gwen had spare gowns—should the one she was wearing become sullied after tending to a patient—and changed her dress. She threw her jeans and T-shirt on top of the small fire and set them alight, watching to make sure they burned to ash before heading up to the castle.
She was only minutes from Aedan. Minutes from being in his arms. Her blood pumped through her veins and made her dizzy with joy. The sun had dipped in the west by the time she made the castle proper. Some of the clansmen greeted her warmly, although surprised, while others looked at her strangely, no doubt wondering what a woman was doing out this late in the day.
Sconces hung about the castle walls, giving those who walked the battlements enough light to see. Not a lot had changed since she was here last. Abby noted a few familiar faces, and some she’d not seen before.
Abby nodded to the guard at the door and walked toward the great hall. The sound of raised voices and laugher met her ears, and she realized everyone had congregated for the nightly meal. She entered the hall and stopped when her eyes took in what was happening up on the dais. Silence as quiet as the grave settled over the gathered clan, and she swallowed the revulsion that rose up in her throat.
Aedan sat beside Aline, their heads bent in private conversation, a delicate, perfect flush making Aline look prettier than Abby had ever thought possible.
She waited for Aedan to see her, lifted her chin in unvoiced defiance when their gazes met. Held. The shock that registered on his visage followed by hope gave her some of the sentiment herself. But when Aedan went to stand, Aline clasped his arm and halted his progress. Abby didn’t know what was worse, that Aline was beside him, or the fact he listened to her silent command and sat back down.
Gwen stood, a small babe clasped against her chest as she ran toward her, pulling her into a one armed hug. Tears threatened and hearing the welcome for her friend, the joy in being back overrode the concern she felt over Aedan’s feelings for her.
“You’re here. Tell me how it is so?” Gwen stood back, smiling.
“Well, it was your plan, actually. Your great—too many greats to count—granddaughter has your gift and sent me back. There is a promise passed down through the family that should