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

growl grew louder and louder in her mind. And she heard Erik’s voice again, Run, child run! Another time he had said, Be still, and I will heal you. But when was that? When the bull bucked her off or when she broke her foot? Both? And there was another time, too. When she almost died of thirst.

She wanted to go somewhere quiet and think about this and decide if she believed it or not.

But why would Elliott lie to her?

Because he’s binge drinking and doesn’t know what he’s saying.

That was believable. Erik being her father…well, that wasn’t.

“I find it hard to believe—no, impossible to believe—that my mother cheated on my father. But after what Erik did for me, it’s not a stretch for me to believe you. But why didn’t he tell me? Or here’s the bigger question. Why’d he tell you?”

“He said he acted as my proxy when he beheaded the man who tortured James Cullen. And he asked me to be his proxy and always protect ye in return.”

“And you agreed to that?”

“He gave me back my son. I wanted to repay him. That was his price.”

“On behalf of Erik the Viking, I release you from your obligation. I don’t require the protection of a self-pitying drunkard.” She pushed to her feet. “Thanks anyway.”

She walked toward the door but stopped. She had one last thing to say. “Death leaves its mark in grooves and patterns. You have those grooves all over you, and I bet this drunken stupor is a pattern in your life when you feel sorry for yourself. People have probably bailed you out of it in the past. Well, guess what? Nobody’s doing it this time.” She opened the door. “And you want to know why?”

“Sure.”

She held up her hand. “I’ve got this, and you can go to hell.”

He wobbled, but with effort, he made it to his feet. “Where’d ye find that?”

“In the pocket of your trousers.”

“Ye don’t want that brooch, Ensley. It comes with too much responsibility, and it’s taken too much from me.”

“From you?” She stomped over to him and got as close as she dared. “Is that what you think this is all about? You? The brooches and the evil in this world have taken Erik, and they’ve taken JC’s mental health, and God knows what’s happened to Tavis.

“If Erik had wanted me to know he was my father, he would have told me before he died. He chose not to do that. But you couldn’t resist, and you’re a bastard for revealing it.”

“Damn it, Ensley. Ye can call me all the goddamn names ye want, but ye’re the daughter of a Viking warrior, and ye got what it takes to win this war. I can’t do it any longer. It’s up to ye now.”

“Hell no, it’s not, and it’s past time for you to get your goddamn life in order.”

“It’s as orderly as it’s going to get.”

She stomped back to the door and threw it open. “You can wallow on your ass right here, but we’re going home, and Meredith’s going with us. You see, I talked to her first. And she was willing to give you a chance, but not now. I won’t let her.”

Ensley saw the dinner tray she left on the hall table. She couldn’t leave it there, so she picked it up and carried it across the room. “You still should eat.”

“Take it away. I don’t want it.”

She returned to the door and decided to channel Clark Gable this time. “Frankly, Elliott, I don’t give a damn.”

She slammed the door and ran down the hall—smack into Meredith.

59

MacKlenna Farm, KY (1885)—Ensley

“Whoa!” Meredith grabbed Ensley’s upper arms to keep from losing her balance. “Where’s the fire?”

Ensley couldn’t speak, nor could she stop shaking. You would have thought she’d escaped a lion’s den. Hey, wait a minute. That’s just what she did. She took deep breaths to help her calm down a bit, but it didn’t happen right away.

“He’s…a g-goddamn bastard.”

Meredith managed a snort that passed for a laugh. “I assume you’re talking about Elliott. Forget about him.” She waved her hand as if flicking him off. “Come with me. I have a bottle of Manzanilla Pastrana, a single-vineyard sherry. A glass of this is the perfect aperitif before dinner, and it will calm you down enough to tell me what he did to make you cry. Although I can probably guess.” Meredith glanced toward Elliott’s room, scowling.

Ensley wasn’t sure, but she thought Meredith muttered, “Bastard.” At least they agreed on that!

But of all the people to run into, why’d it have to be Meredith? Ensley needed to find Austin and tell him about her ordeal. But he more than likely used his mind-to-mind communication skill—a common trait in the MacKlenna Clan—and already knew what happened. Then she spotted him in her peripheral vision, sitting on the bottom step with his legs stretched out from here to Tennessee!

But since Meredith had hold of her hand, short of yanking it out of her grasp, Ensley had to go wherever JC’s mom led her. Ensley could drag her feet, but she still had to go. From what she knew of Meredith Montgomery, “no” was an unacceptable response.

Ensley did drag her feet as she followed Meredith into her bedroom and intentionally left the door ajar. But Meredith reached back and pushed it shut. Slam!

Ensley noticed three things right away.

The setup in this bedroom was similar to Elliott’s. But it was clean and smelled like lilacs instead of shit.

Oh, and one more thing. It reminded Ensley of the Victorian bedroom described in a novel she edited recently, right down to a small table with a tassel-fringed green velvet cover between two needlepoint-upholstered armchairs.

Meredith sat at the cute little table and gestured for Ensley to sit, too.

God, I need to get out more often and stop living in fictitious worlds.

Then she almost laughed out loud. She’d been hanging out with Teddy Roosevelt and a Viking warrior. Plus, falling