She shook her head.
“I thought that was exactly what I could do. But seeing how bravely you fought for what’s right for you, risking everything to save your king and your country… I should be like that. I’m a soldier, too. It’s my job to risk my life for my people. And yet I cowered instead of rising to the challenge.”
“Lass, no one would blame ye—”
“No, Owen. I love you, and I want to be with you. But if we want a chance of a happily ever after, I cannot let myself be a coward. You don’t deserve that.” She let out a quick breath and looked straight into his eyes. “I need to be my own goddamn hero.”
“Aye. Be yer own hero, lass. Ye’re verra much mine,” he said with pride in his voice. Then he sighed, and his eyes clouded with sadness. “’Tis goodbye, isna it?”
“I hope you understand.”
He gave several small nods, thoughtful. “I do. Course I do.” He covered her hand with his. “I’m proud of ye, lass. Though I wouldna think any less of ye if ye just let all that go.”
“Thank you.”
He pushed himself up and sat straighter. He looked at one of the chests by the wall.
“Can ye do something for me?”
“Sure.”
“In that chest, can ye find a small brown leather pouch and bring it here?”
“Okay.”
She stood and went to look in the chest he’d pointed at. Sure enough, she found the leather pouch and brought it to him. He opened it and took out a ring.
Amber’s stomach dropped, and her head spun like she was falling into the center of the earth. A ring…
“My mother gave it to me before she died, and I never thought I’d need it. Mayhap in yer time, people are happy to be dating their whole lives, or however ye call it. But we’re in my time. And in my time, I’d need to marry ye to make ye mine. I’ll never want a wife who is nae ye.”
He held out the ring to her.
“I want to marry ye.”
Amber took the ring, and it burned her fingertips. It was a simple silver band with two curls coming together in front with a beautiful Celtic finishing.
Her eyes blurred, tears stinging them. “I want nothing more than to put it on my finger and say yes.”
He swallowed hard. “But ye dinna plan to return.” There was a finality in his voice.
“I want to return.” Amber climbed on the bed and shifted closer to him, trying not to touch his thigh. “But in all honesty, I have no idea if I can. No matter how much I try, they still may put me in prison or…”
Or sentence her to death.
Owen’s face fell.
Amber took his hand in hers. “Bottom line, I may not be able to come back.” She put the ring in his palm and closed his fingers over it. “So I can’t promise to marry you. I’m not selfish enough to make you wait your whole life if I can’t.”
“But ye want to marry me?”
“Of course I do.”
He put the ring back in her palm. “Then I’ll wait for ye forever.”
“Owen—”
“Nae. Shush. If I can’t marry ye, I’ll never marry. And I’d rather spend the rest of my life hoping every day that ye come back than spend it with a woman I dinna love.”
She let the joy of hearing those words seep into every cell of her being and shake up the swarm of butterflies in her stomach. She cupped his bristled jaw. “Then whatever happens, I won’t stop until I can find a way to get back to you. I’ll turn the world upside down if I have to.”
She leaned down and kissed him, setting the butterflies in an erratic dance.
And as his arms wrapped around her, she begged time to stop so she could drink in every moment with Owen since they might very well be the last.
Chapter 33
Two weeks later, 2020
* * *
Jonathan’s house looked just like Amber remembered from when she’d visited five years ago. It was a light-green, two-story building with a big porch. Trees with Spanish moss grew around the house, its long silver streams hanging from the trees, creating an idyllic picture of a southern family house.
Her heart squeezed in a dull ache. She’d missed her family. Her mother, father, and her three brothers. The house reminded her of where she’d grown up, and she wondered if Jonathan had chosen it for that reason.
She couldn’t win this battle alone. She needed Jonathan. He had connections in the military and in the police. He could help her.
She had traveled back to the twenty-first century two weeks ago. She had no money, no passport, no phone, nothing but her clothes. Owen had given her his dagger, and Amy had suggested she take some pieces of jewelry to sell to an antiques dealer. That way, she’d have money to travel to the States.
Amber didn’t want to ask for more help from Auntie Christel. She didn’t want to put her in more danger than she already was.
She’d gone through the stone and walked on foot to Fort William, where she’d sold the jewelry and the dagger. With his eyes shining, he’d paid her 25,000 pounds. He’d agreed on the price too quickly, which made her think she could have probably gotten a better price.
Still, the money was enough to buy a fake driver’s license and passport off the dark net that were good enough to pass through border control. It took a week for it to arrive, and she was suddenly Susan Francis, born in New Hampshire and residing in Inverness.
She knew she wouldn’t win this game without the help of her older brother and his connections. She’d considered contacting Jonathan to let him know she was coming, but in the end, she’d decided not to in case his phone was bugged. One heart-stopping flight and two security checks later, and she was in New Orleans.
From there, she’d used a rental car to get to Nicholson, and now she stood in front of Jonathan’s house wearing a wig of short black hair in a bob cut. She’d gone for a suburban mom-look of checkered shirt, mom jeans, and comfortable but stylish sneakers. Just in case, she put on a baseball hat to hide a bit of her face.
She waited in the car parked across the street from the house. When she saw Jonathan leave, her heart thumped. Her brother was older, and gray hair touched his temples. With age, he looked more and more like their dad. He was the same height, had the same build. His broad shoulders even slouched in a similar way, and something in her chest moved at the thought.
He got into his car and drove away, and like in a thriller movie, she followed him. As far as she could tell, they had no tail. He arrived at the parking lot of a Costco, and when he got out of the car, so did she. With her pulse racing a hundred miles per hour, she jogged to him before he reached the entrance.
“Jonathan,” she said, and he turned to her. His eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced around.
“What the hell, Amber? What are you doing here?”
Her back tensed and her gut tightened. Was this a mistake? Would he betray her like he had when they were young?
“Can we please talk?” she said. “Somewhere private?”
He muttered something, took her by the elbow and lead her across the road into a small park. The air was rich with the scent of flowers and humidity. They sat on a bench looking out over a small pond. Strands of Spanish moss hung from the trees surrounding the water. Mothers pushed strollers, elderly women power walked, and teenagers rode bikes and skateboards along the path.