The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

Elliott intended to tell her about the Viking and James Cullen. But her mind suddenly detoured and ran smack into the memory of Montgomery Winery’s security, informing her that her first husband had a massive stroke. She shivered before crawling back out of that memory, furious that it invaded her mind right now. It took all of her reserves to steel herself. She knew intuitively that her world was about to crash into the abyss—again.

She took a shaky breath. “Spit it out.”

Elliott took a shaky breath, too, which wasn’t at all comforting. She was rarely, if ever, out of control, but right now, she was borderline. She fisted her hands, hoping to keep that control from slipping through her fingers.

“James Cullen found Ensley in the Badlands and left her with Teddy Roosevelt—”

“Why on earth would he do that?” she interrupted.

Elliott held his hand up to quiet her down. “Paul was at the mercy of the brooch and only just arrived. Erik said a man named Sten, along with his associates, captured James Cullen while he was in Chicago.”

“And Erik helped him escape?”

“Eventually.”

She read volumes in her husband’s choice of words and knew James Cullen’s capture had involved much more than simply being detained.

Erik brought him here.

There was a tome in those words, too. Reading between the lines—James Cullen was unable to travel on his own.

“Dear God,” she moaned. “Just tell me, is he dead?”

“No,” Elliott said.

She lifted her eyes to gaze into Elliott’s, rimmed with tears. “Is he dying?”

Elliott slowly shook his head. “His injuries are severe, but Erik assured me James Cullen would survive.”

“Erik is a twelfth-century Viking, not a doctor! A broken bone might heal on its own over time, but that doesn’t mean the person can walk normally again. James Cullen needs to be in a hospital.”

Elliott stood and paced in front of her. “Erik arrived in time to save the lad, but not before the men broke almost every bone in his body.”

“Dear God,” she moaned. “How could anyone recover from that kind of trauma? He should be in a medical facility with access to specialists. I saw Emily walk in with you. That means James Cullen isn’t getting any medical attention at all. We have access to the best medical care in the world, Elliott. Why are we sitting here?”

She shot to her feet. Elliott might have his priorities screwed up, but she didn’t. She intended to take James Cullen home. But how? She didn’t have a brooch, and she’d bet the winery Elliott wouldn’t give her the brooch he carried. But if Paul just came through the fog, he’d have one.

“I’m taking my son home,” she said, poking him in the chest with her finger. “And don’t try to stop me. If you do, and James Cullen dies, it’ll be your fault.”

Elliott jerked back as if she’d slapped him, and that was just what she wanted to do.

“As long as we follow Erik’s instructions, James Cullen won’t die.”

She blinked at the absurdity of his statement. “All those trips through time have short-circuited the wires in your brain. Neither one of us would be here right now if it weren’t for the medical attention we received. James Cullen is seriously injured, and you’re taking the word of a goddamn Viking.”

She threw up her hands. “Go to hell.” God, this couldn’t be happening. She and Elliott were always on the same page. But this time, they weren’t even reading from the same script. This was disastrous for their marriage, but more importantly, for James Cullen’s survival.

She wasn’t going to stand around and wait another minute. Elliott’s delaying tactics had failed, and he couldn’t stop her from seeing James Cullen.

The path to the cabin was on the other side of the lake. She bolted in that direction, with Elliott storming after her. It seemed like a ten-mile hike through the desert to get there. For the first time since that Hogmanay celebration all those years ago, when he blamed her for his horse’s death, she felt the same emotional disconnect, and she hated it. But right now, she hated him more.

He caught up with her. “I have to tell ye the rest of the story, and this is going to be hard to believe.”

She walked faster. “Not any harder than what you’ve already told me.”

He took her hand, and her skin tingled where they touched. His energy was an electrical current supercharging hers, and she yanked her hand away. She might be the yin to his yang, but not today. She refused to get sucked into his absurd theory.

He opened his mouth to say something but must have thought better of it, and that suited her just fine.

It wasn’t until they reached the clearing in front of the cabin that he said, “Meredith, stop. Ye have to listen to me, or ye can’t go inside. There are rules.”

“Screw the rules,” she said as she marched toward the door.

He grabbed her arm. “Sit down and listen to me. Ye can bang on the door all ye want, but Paul won’t let ye in. Ye’re acting like—”

“A mother? You’re damn right, I am.” She sat down on the tree stump used for splitting wood and relaxed her neck and shoulders—or tried to. “You’ve got two minutes.” Then she would use everything she could think of to get inside. Elliott was not going to keep her from her son.

“Erik killed the men who attacked James Cullen. Then he wrapped the lad from head to toe in his red cloak.”

“Why?” she nearly shouted.

He shushed her. “It’s a special fabric with healing powers.”

“Like what?”

He shushed her again.

She folded her arms. “You have ninety seconds.”

“The ancient people—those who lived long before the Vikings—made the cloak using the same materials used in the brooches.”

“But the brooches are stones. How can a fabric last that long?”

He shushed her a third time, which infuriated her. “You have sixty seconds. And stop wasting your time shushing me.”

He bit his lip, took a breath. “I don’t know, but