The Wellspring (Kaitlyn and the Highlander #12) - Diana Knightley Page 0,18

and ran my hand over the medals, and set one straight that had gone crooked, marveling at all this metal over his heart. They were like a protective shield to hide what was inside, the heart of a man who didn’t want to go. “I forgot how hot you are dressed as a king.”

He pulled at the bottom of his coat. “Tis too loose, I am half the man I once was.”

“You’ve just lost a little of your size, hungry is all.”

“Aye, verra hungry, tell Chef Zach I want a steak when I am home.”

“Deal.”

I wasn’t going to go to the beach with them, it was too scary for Archie, I was just going to give a quick goodbye and… I hugged him. “I love you. Stay safe.”

His strong arms around me, the squeeze, his voice by my shoulder in the warm press beside my ear. “I love ye too, mo reul-iuil. I will be home on the morrow.” We kissed.

I said, “Bye Quentin, keep him safe?”

“You got it. No worries Katie, back in a few hours.”

I nodded and rushed back into the house, determined not to cry.

Magnus and Quentin were gone. The house was full, but we still felt the loss of their presence. Archie sat beside me on the couch, not wanting to let me out of his sight. I had a view of the monitor, Magnus’s vessel lighting up and leaving the screen. On the back deck, through the glass doors, the back of a security guard.

I was bored and there wasn’t much to do but wait. “Here’s something I’m curious about, where’s the painting?”

Emma was sitting on the couch nursing Zoe. “The Cézanne or one of the Picassos?”

“The Picasso with the door in the back.”

“The one of She Who Should Not Be Named? It’s in the guestroom closet.”

I padded in there barefoot. Barefoot was awesome. The sixteenth century had crap shoes and I had had to wear them everywhere.

In the closet, wrapped in craft paper, was the painting.

I returned with it and placed it on the table Archie coming to stand right beside me.

Hayley came and sat down. “Whatcha doing?”

“Being weird.”

I peeled off the paper exposing the antique wood and the little door built into the back of the frame. Hayley pulled up the corner to peek at the painting underneath. “Ugh, I mean, I guess she’s beautiful, but seriously, Picasso liked her?”

“He was so hot for her and her money, both, but he definitely liked her. You should have seen her in her pajamas with him all cuddled…” I pretended to retch. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I pressed my finger to the sensor pad and the door clicked open. I had wondered if it would be there, but the book was right where I left it. I flipped through the pages. “Do you think she’s seen this? Do you think she’s looked through it?”

Emma said, “Probably, I feel like she would have looked first thing. Did she add anything, like notes, a message?”

I skimmed, page by page; it was very old so I had to be cautious. I actually regretted not wearing gloves like a museum person. There was nothing new. Near the back was the list of vessels, twenty-three, as there had always been. “Maybe I should leave a message for Magnus, wouldn’t that be cool?”

I scooped up Isla who had been pushing a little stick push-toy that was a hand-me-down from Ben. It looked like an alligator with a twirling bird on its head that Zach called ‘gator with his lunch’. Isla didn’t walk far and fast yet, but she loved to stand, hold onto something, bounce up and down and swing the stick toy at things. It was heavy at the swingy end, and was dangerous actually, but cute as all get out.

I took Isla and Archie out to the deck and lifted Archie to sit on the rail. With the ocean behind us and Isla on my hip, I held the phone up, and we smiled taking selfies of the three of us.

Hayley said, “Want me to take it for you?”

“Nope this is better.” I took four more. The wind was blowing our hair, Isla’s little wispy bits standing up, her chin and chest covered in teething slobber. The windswept sand dunes were our backdrop, a beautiful blue sky shone down on us. And in every photo Isla was reaching for the phone, her chubby hand close up, the composition unplanned and yet lovely, so much going on in