An original sin, p.24
An Original Sin, page 24
Ganymede seemed to swell with pride right before his eyes. Whatever else Leith believed, he believed that he spoke with a fellow warrior.
Turning out the light, he paused at the bedroom door to glance back. Amber eyes glowed in the darkness, watching him with…approval. He laughed and shook his head at his whimsy.
Chapter Fourteen
Last night. Fortune hadn’t given Leith the gift she’d bought for him at the mall. Instead they’d lain on their own sides of the bed, only feet apart, but in actuality, centuries apart.
What had he thought of in the hot Texas night? Had he drifted back to his beloved Scotland, his land of cool mists and dark memories? Or had he wrestled with the problem of what to do about the mountain-gross who’d broken into their house? Had he thought of her?
She’d thought of him. Thought of his confidence even when dealing with an alien world. Thought of his vulnerability when he spoke of the Highlands, his brother. Thought of his soft voice soothing her, his hard body driving her to sobbing ecstasy. Thought only of him.
She should’ve given him his present last night. She should’ve held him, stroked him. Because she never knew when she’d wake to find him gone, a distant memory of a time long past. And she knew with a certainty born in her heart she’d regret the things she hadn’t done, could never do again.
Two weeks. He’d said he’d be finished in two weeks. Was that how long they had? Maybe she could delete what she’d done, tell him she didn’t have a copy, make him start over again. No, in her heart she knew all her wishes, her plans, would mean nothing when their time was up.
Her plans. The truth? She had no plans.
Now she sat in front of Mary’s computer once again, ready to record more of his memories. Memories that tugged at her heart, made him more precious to her.
“What worries ye, lass?”
The soft huskiness of his voice startled her, and she turned to find him standing behind her, staring at the blank screen. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what I wrote yesterday.” When had she, who prided herself on her truthfulness, become such an accomplished liar?
Pulling a chair up beside her, he sat down. “Ye dinna like what I’ve told ye of Scotland, do ye?” He reached up to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. The automatic gesture brought tears to her eyes.
She concentrated on the screen, as blank as her future hopes. “The country sounds beautiful, but the people seem so…savage.” No, savage was the wrong word. He was part of that time, and she no longer thought of him as savage.
“Each age has its own kind of savagery, Fortune. Think of yer own time.”
She didn’t want to think of her own time, didn’t want to think of a time before Leith or after Leith. And somehow she knew that no matter what finally happened, home would never be a comfortable place again.
“I don’t understand.” Without permission, her fingers typed in the word home on the screen.
“Savagery has many faces. Ye dinna speak of yer mother wi’ love. Why?”
She didn’t see the connection, and she didn’t want to talk about her mother, but because he’d shared so much of his pain with her, she told him. “Each woman in our society has a duty to produce one child. I was an obligation to my mother, nothing more. Once she gave me life she abandoned me to the care of robot nannies.” At least now she could speak of her mother without bitterness. Leith had done that for her. “I’ll give her credit, though. She never pretended. I’ve sort of thought that the cloning pro cess doesn’t lend itself to the growth of maternal feelings. Who knows?” Once she would’ve shrugged a pretended nonchalance while she tried to suppress her roiling anger. Now? She could never forget her mother’s lack of love, but perhaps she could begin to understand it.
“I dinna know what ‘robot nannies’ are, but they dinna have a warm sound. Did no one hold ye, hug ye?”
The outrage in his voice was for her. Her. The realization triggered a warm glow that expanded with each beat of her heart.
“Our society as a whole doesn’t do much hugging or kissing.”
“Why?” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against him. “ ’Tis a wonderful custom.” He kissed her ear.
Shivers rippled from her ear to pool in dark, hidden lakes of desire. She tried to ignore the heat threatening to overflow its banks and drown her. “I’m not sure, but I think after men disappeared, physical signs of affection didn’t have the meaning they once did. Even birth had a different significance. Babies were no longer a manifestation of the love between a man and woman. They were just an extension of one’s self.”
He released her, and she fought the urge to turn and pull him back, sink into his warmth.
“Would ye consider getting yerself wi’ a male child here, then taking him back to yer time?”
She glanced at him. He watched her with a deep intensity that gave away none of his thoughts.
Fortune had briefly thought of this solution to the human race’s problem. It made sense. Bring back a child and raise him with the intention of repopulating the world with males. It made perfect sense. Then why did the idea make her cringe with horror? “I…I couldn’t do that, Leith. I couldn’t bring a child back to that kind of attention, isolation. He’d never get to play with other little boys, never be free of constant scrutiny, examinations.” She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t do that to my child.” Our child. The thought alone made her weak.
She thought she glimpsed approval in his eyes, but his expression remained hooded. “But ye’d do it to me, lass?”
No! Her heart screamed the word, but she couldn’t say it aloud, because no matter what her heart suffered, she still had to sacrifice him for the future of mankind. “I…”
Maybe she could still find a suitable male to replace—Stop it! The logic she’d rarely used lately told her Leith was the chosen one, no other. Trying to slip through a crack to escape her duty would only catapault her into a black hole of indecision. She couldn’t allow that now. But she needed a plan. She hadn’t even tried to think of one. You don’t want to think of one.
Leith rubbed his hand across his eyes and turned away. “Dinna try to think of a lie, lass. ’Twould do no good.” He sounded unutterably weary.
“I see Aunt Mary has made you comfortable here.”
Michael’s voice spun Leith and Fortune around. He stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in suit and tie, every hair in place, shoes shined to a mirror finish. In contrast, Leith wore old jeans, a shirt open halfway down his chest, and scuffed boots that Blade had given him, but she realized Michael didn’t have a chance in the same room with Leith.
“I just wanted to remind you guys about the party next Saturday. You’re still coming, aren’t you?” He wandered over to the computer and stared over Fortune’s shoulder as she pulled up yesterday’s work on the screen. “Wow, pretty intense stuff. People really lived this way?”
Fortune knew when Leith moved closer, felt his heat, his passion.
“Aye. Lived, loved, died this way. ’Twas not a time for the weak of spirit.”
His harsh reply was aimed at Michael, so why did she feel he spoke only to her? Challenged only her?
Michael leaned closer, then shook his head. “I bet it wasn’t.” He straightened. “Got to go. Don’t forget the party.”
She listened to his footsteps leave the room, listened to the silence wrap around her until she felt suffocated by it, until she had to say something. “We’ve wasted too much time already. Yesterday we left off—” She paused as a distant sound caught her attention.
“What is it?” His voice was expressionless, as though they’d never discussed her decision for his future.
She listened for a few more seconds, then shrugged. “Nothing. I thought I heard the ice-cream man, but it was something else.” She started to type, then paused again. “Why do you think Ganymede hates the ice-cream man so much?”
She turned to see Leith gazing out the window at the garden below. “I think the ice-cream man has a part in this, but I dinna know what.” He glanced at her. “It does no good to worry about things I canna understand.”
“Why not?” She’d done nothing but worry since she’d set foot here. Who wouldn’t worry? A man who’d watched his parents killed in a raid and then had taken part in a bloody massacre. What could there possibly be to worry about after that? “Forget I said that. I’ll do the worrying for both of us.”
Leith leaned back against the wooden bench and watched the people stream by. Fortune sat beside him, still breathing hard from their walk to the mall.
“Why are we here, and why did we have to walk? My legs feel like they’re about to fall off, and I’m starved. Ganymede will wonder where we are. Why—”
Leith raised his eyes to the heavens. “Lord save me from a complaining woman.”
Fortune’s expression turned offended. “Who’s complaining? I’m asking reasonable questions. We spent a long day at Mary’s and I’m tired. So here we sit watching people go by.”
“I needed the exercise. I canna sit around all day staring at a computer.” He watched a woman walk by leading a small boy by the hand while clasping an oversize stuffed bear with her other. He automatically pictured Fortune in place of the woman.
He must stop his fantasies. Even if they could remain in this time, she would never consent to have his child. Not with so many other men more suited to her. “Since I willna go back to yer time, mayhap we can choose one of these men to return wi’ ye.” He smiled at her, inviting her to join him in his game.
“Hmm. Good idea.” She relaxed against his shoulder and studied the passing men. “How about that one? He’s well built, has a good face…”
Leith shook his head. “He looks wi’ affection on the man beside him. I dinna think a lass would interest him.”
“Oh.” She looked confused. “How can you tell?”
“I understand such things. Keep looking.”
“OK.” She pointed to another passing man. “He looks good—healthy, nice bone structure.”
Leith shook his head sadly. “Married.”
Fortune’s expression turned mutinous. “Give me a break. There’s no way you can tell he’s married.”
“ ’Tis obvious. He wears a look of servitude. Any man would see it.” Leith noted her angry glance and controlled his grin. There was nothing more glorious than a red-haired woman when she was furious.
“Fine. How about him?” She jabbed her finger at another man.
“Stubborn. Ye can tell by his bushy eyebrows.”
She turned and impaled Leith with her stare. “Don’t look now, Mr. Smart Guy, but your eyebrows aren’t exactly neat and narrow.”
“Aye. I admit to a certain amount of stubbornness. ’Tis how I recognize it in others. Like recognizes like.” He ignored her derisive snort. “Keep searching.”
“There. Look at that man. He’s perfect.” Her narrowed gaze dared him to find fault.
“ ’Tis too bad.” He hoped his expression was suitably dejected.
“What? What’s wrong with him?”
“Do ye see the shape of his ear? ’Tis a sign of impotence. He’ll do yer world no good at all.”
She exhaled in disgust. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Aye, well, ye’re a city lass, and ye wouldna understand such things.” If he didn’t laugh soon, he’d explode.
Fortune straightened, then turned her face from him so he couldn’t see her expression. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I’m beginning to see a certain pattern here. You won’t go back with me, but you find fault with everyone else I suggest. I wonder why?”
He didn’t feel like laughing anymore. “I was only trying to help ye.”
“Right.” She turned her face to him, and he read the truth they both knew in her eyes. “You don’t want me, but you won’t let me take back someone I might find attractive. Don’t you find that attitude a little selfish?”
Don’t want you? He’d want her till he died. The realization rocked him. “ ’Tis yer imagination. Ye can take whatever man ye want, if he agrees.”
“What would it take for you to agree to go back with me?” Her soft question held wistful hope.
“Nothing. If I loved ye beyond all reason, it would take nothing.” His gaze locked with hers. “But even if I loved ye, I’d have to return to my time.”
“Why?” Her expression was carefully blank.
“It doesna matter. ’Tis time for us to go.” He rose and walked away from her—hating himself for his brusqueness, hating her for creating doubts in his mind.
She caught up with him quickly. “This is about Hugh, isn’t it? I know how you feel about him, but you can’t sacrifice—”
“I dinna want to talk about it.” He continued walking.
“OK. Forget I asked. Your life is your business.”
Leith winced at the hurt he heard in her voice. He stopped to call a taxi, then walked to an exit, all the time trying not to meet Fortune’s gaze. She deserved an answer, but how could he expect her to understand the mixture of anger and guilt he felt toward Hugh when he didn’t completely understand it himself?
Relieved, he watched Blade’s taxi pull to a stop. They could not discuss personal matters with Blade in the taxi. He held the door as she climbed in.
“I was hoping to have a chance to talk to you guys.” Blade grinned at them over his shoulder. “Talked to some people about fake IDs. It’s all set up as soon as they get some dough.”
Leith nodded. “Once we get identification, I would like to see about purchasing a Harley.” He ignored Fortune’s pointed stare.
Blade transferred his attention to the road as they pulled into traffic. “No problem. I know a guy who wants to sell his. He’ll take payments.” He glanced at Fortune in his mirror. “How do you feel about the big guy gettin’ a bike, little lady?”
“I’d hate it.” Fortune stared out the window at a passing motorcycle. “It’s so open and…”
“ ’Tisna safe, is it, Fortune?”
Her expression told him how right he was.
“Exactly. I like being enclosed, safe. I’ve always been safe. I…I could never climb on one of those.” She looked almost embarrassed by her declaration.
He leaned over and whispered for her ears only. “I am not safe, Fortune. Ye seemed to like climbing on me verra well.”
Her face flamed red, and he almost felt ashamed at the words he’d said. Almost.
She stared straight ahead, refusing to answer him, to even look at him.
Blade glanced again in the mirror. “Heard you had some excitement last night.”
“What did ye hear?” Fortune grew still beside him.
“Well, the way I heard it, Bones and a big old panther had a go-around on your front lawn last night.”
“Panther?” Leith and Fortune spoke in unison.
“Saber-toothed panther. Know Bones got the worst of it ’cause I saw him today. Looks like someone took the working end of a rake to his face and arms. He’s stomping and swearing he’ll take care of you when your pet’s not around to protect you.” Blade chuckled. “He was real entertaining.”
Leith glanced at Fortune. He wasn’t surprised to see the look of panic growing in her eyes at the mention of violence. “Did Bones tell ye about the…panther?” He returned his attention to Blade.
“Don’t forget the saber-toothed part.” He gave Leith a grin. “No, it was Mrs. Hyperstein down the street. She was walking her poodle and saw the whole thing. Swears you’re lettin’ a panther run loose in the neighborhood. Called me to let me know she doesn’t think folks are allowed to keep exotic pets around Clear Lake.” He winked at Leith. “Truth is, she’s afraid your panther might have a taste for poodles.”
“A panther?” Fortune had recovered her voice. “All we have is Ganymede.”
Blade’s good humor disappeared. “Close enough. Course, Mrs. Hyperstein’s eyesight ain’t so good anymore. Won’t wear glasses.”
Leith nudged Fortune. He thought it might be best to say nothing more about this. Fortune nodded her agreement.
Thankfully, Leith realized they’d reached home. As he helped Fortune from the taxi, he made a quick visual survey of the house to make sure they’d had no more uninvited guests. Relieved, he found nothing disturbed.
He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and was immediately met by Ganymede, who seemed intent on imparting all the news of the day.
Fortune laughed as she picked the cat from the floor. “Did our panther stay out of trouble today?” She scratched behind Ganymede’s ears, and he broke into a rumbling purr. Fortune looked up at Leith with eyes that sparkled with pleasure. “He’s glad to see us.”
Leith shook his head, but he couldn’t help smiling. “The wee beastie is happy to see ye. I’d guess he wants to eat. ’Tis late.”
“Poor baby.” She rubbed her head against the cat’s glossy coat.
Leith rolled his eyes at the cat. With calm deliberation, Ganymede yawned in Leith’s face.
“If ye were a man, ye’d nurse a broken head for a week,” he muttered.
“What did you say, Leith?” Fortune stopped rubbing her head against the appreciative cat long enough to stare at him.
“I said ye should put the cat down so I can feed him.”
“Oh, thank you.” She plunked a grumbling Ganymede onto the floor, then headed for the bedroom. “I’ll get us something to eat as soon as I take a quick shower.”
Leith followed Ganymede’s waving tail into the kitchen. “Tread carefully, ye wee demon.” He opened the refrigerator and took out a piece of salmon. “No matter what form ye take, I dinna believe ye’re a cat.”
He’d gotten Ganymede’s complete attention. The cat’s amber eyes seemed suddenly intense, searching.
There’d been a time when Leith would have laughed at holding a conversation with a cat, at believing what he now believed. But after being sent forward three hundred years, nothing seemed impossible.
“ ’Tis strange that Fortune still treats ye as a cat, even suspecting what ye truly are.” Leith smiled at Ganymede. “Whate’er that may be.”
