Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(40)
As much as Grant wanted to argue that last point, he held his tongue. Gingerly, he closed his hand around the brooch, holding it with a tender grasp as though it were a living thing.
So much hope rested on this hard-won bundle. So much was at risk—so much could be lost.
“I understand,” he finally said, already dreading what he knew he had to do. “I’ll do it straightaway—as soon as I can get her to leave her charges at the bed-and-breakfast for a time. I believe after the last two days the ladies have enjoyed here at Highland Life and Legends, they might be ready to cut their visit short and take a wee rest for a day or so.”
“Good, then.” Dwyn clapped Grant on the shoulder and smiled. “My blessings t’ye, son. Yer brothers were good enough to make certain yer personal tunnel to the vault could still be accessed and fresh supplies were laid into the alcove at the base of the stairs.” His tone grew gruff as he turned away. “They knew ye hadna paid yer proper respects to the stone or the weapons since well before the explosion on the mountain. But rest assured, ye can take yer lady the way that she should go so ye can learn yer fate with her.”
“I thank ye, Dwyn.” Grant pulled his phone out of his sporran. “I just pray yer blessings are enough.”
Dwyn responded with a slight dip of his chin. “I’ll leave ye to it, then. I’m off t’check on the clans if ye should need me.”
Grant stared down at the phone in his hand. Unimaginable contentment or a return to bleak loneliness was a mere phone call away. Dread and pending doom bore down on him like a weight across his shoulders. Deep in his heart, he’d known this day was inevitable, but he’d hoped that somehow, some way, he could’ve found a way around it. Lived like an ordinary man. Finally rid himself of the MacDara legacy. He huffed out a disgruntled snort. He shouldha known better. He’d not escaped his fate in the tenth century and now it remained t’be seen what his fate would be in the twenty-first.
He tapped Joanna’s number with his thumb and put the phone to his ear. It rang three times.
“Hey, Grant. Can you hold on just a sec?”
“Aye.” He’d hold the damn call forever if it meant he wouldna have to risk losing her because of his legacy, because of the whims of the goddesses and the stone.
“I’m back. Had to get Hazel settled in. Her hangover seems worse than the others’, so Martha called Doc Farthingham to check her out.”
“Máthair can be a better help to the woman with her herbals. Shall I send her over?” Doctor Farthingham. That man’s an arrogant arse. Grant frowned, remembering the run-in he’d had with Lester Farthingham when the fool of a man had advised daily drugging of Emrys MacDara to keep the man calm. Father didna need the old bastard’s drugs. Father just needed the proper handling and care from his family and clan. “Máthair can be there straightaway, I grant ye that.”
“That’s okay. Doc’s already here. I feel sure that Hazel is all right, but we just wanted to be on the safe side.” Joanna’s voice dropped to a low, sultry tone. “By the way, tell your mother and Miss Lydia that I really appreciate the time off yesterday and last night. The time to get away. Just be me.” She went silent for a brief moment, but the pause told Grant volumes. “I…uhm…feel better than I’ve felt in a long time.”
Grant nearly groaned aloud. What would the lass say after he showed her the hidden truths the MacDara clan protected? He swallowed hard and forced the apprehension out of his voice. “I’ve already thanked them, sweetling—and I feel the same.” Before Joanna could say anything else, Grant hurried to get the dreaded chore set in motion. “Would ye be available for a bit of time this afternoon? After ye’ve tended to yer ladies for the day?”
“Absolutely,” Joanna answered. “Today’s definitely going to be a day of recovery for them.” She paused half a heartbeat, then continued in a more suggestive tone. “What exactly have you got in mind?”
Grant stared up into the brilliance of the bright blue sky. Wisps of white clouds rode the gentle breeze. The energizing warmth of the spring day urged him on. “It looks t’be quite the fine day. Would ye fancy exploring the caves in the cliffs along the river’s edge below my house?” The woman seemed to enjoy running and being outside. Surely, she’d warm to the idea of exploring the land.
“Caves? Really?”
The shift to piqued interest in her voice spurred Grant on. “Aye. We might even find an arrowhead or two. There’s much history in this area.”
“Sounds great. I’ve got to clean up the bus first. The trip back from the park was a little rough.” There was a telling pause in the conversation, then Joanna continued. “Why don’t you meet me at the car wash around two? I should be finished by then.”
“Aye, lass.” Grant struggled to keep the dread out of his voice. “Two it is.”
Chapter 13
Joanna glanced at her watch, double-checked the side mirrors for any signs of the sheriff or his deputies, then floored it. She hadn’t counted on it taking so long to clean up the bus, and then she’d had to return to the bed-and-breakfast to shower and change clothes. She shuddered and suppressed a gag. The bus had been nasty. From now on, all tours would have rules regarding alcohol consumption.