Page 23 of Return to Me Always

The burger ended up being the best one I had ever eaten. As I savored it, I realized that the last dinner I had was at the pub. Only twenty-four hours ago. But it seemed like forever.

We both wolfed down our food in less than two minutes, and I wondered how to bring about our chat. Feeling too exhausted to be subtle, I just decided to begin talking.

"So clearly, you're the strong, silent type. And clearly, I'm not. Well, I'm kind of strong. Maybe not as strong as you are, for God's sake. Who is? But I'm definitely not silent. I have tried so hard to be quiet and just go along, but nope. I can't do it anymore. So can we please have an actual conversation about what's going on?"

He stopped cleaning up our dishes to stare at me. "Sure," he said, drawing out the word like he was a little scared.

"And can you give me more than one-word answers?"

"Might do."

I resisted rolling my eyes. "Okay. Well, that's a start. I guess. So can you tell me where we actually are?"

"Several miles north of Drymen."

"I have no clue where that is. But thanks for answering." I could see the hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. "Is this where you usually stop on a tour?"

"I usually spend the first night at Drymen. But I'm pushing us harder."

"Yeah." I let out a sigh. "I guess we're not exactly on this hike to enjoy the beautiful fall scenery of Scotland."

"I'm trying to keep us alive, lass." His expression was all seriousness now, making my heart beat faster.

"So are we just running to run, or do you have a specific destination in mind?" I asked.

"We're not just running." He poked a long stick into the fire, sending sparks into the inky night sky.

"So where exactly are we headed then?"

"North. Then west."

"To where?" I asked, starting to feel frustrated with his vagueness.

He glanced up at me, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "Can you just trust me?"

I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "I barely know you."

"But can you trust me?"

"Why won't you just tell me, though?" I argued.

He paused, returning his gaze back to the fire in front of us. "It's too soon, I guess. I don't know how to explain it." He looked up at me then, meeting my eyes above the glowing embers. "Can you just give me some time?"

Damn Scottish brogue.

For a long moment, those eyes held mine and seemed to stare into the deepest depths of my soul, taking me back to my dreams, taking me back to how familiar he felt. I let out a breath and realized, at that point, I probably would have said yes to anything.

Maybe I was making the mistake of a lifetime, but I decided to take a chance and give him what he was asking me for—more time. I just prayed he knew what he was doing and I wouldn't regret placing my trust in him.

"Sure," I finally said.

I could see the exhaustion in Tyler's expression, and I decided that was good enough. For now. And also, for the time being, I would ignore all my other questions—about the drawings, about the dreams, about what Malcolm had said in the house, even about the beautiful girl from the coffee shop. As much as I hated not knowing, and as much as it went against my entire personality, I'd let it rest.

"Should we get some sleep?" I asked. He didn't answer, just gave me that half-smile that caused my heart to jump, and I guessed he was probably beyond relieved to be done with our conversation. "You must be so tired."

"I'm fine, Ryder."

The fire crackled a few times as a small branch splintered apart, and I stood up, stretching out my sore muscles.

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