Page 19 of Highlander Unraveled
He glanced around taking in the interior of the house, and I shook my head.
“Moira and Shona are exceedingly proud of their green thumbs. They’d never leave their yard to ruin.”
Mr. McAlister’s mouth fell open, he looked surprised.
“And I would think as theirguardian,you would know such a thing.” I crossed my arms defensively over my chest, suddenly unsure exactly where I stood with these people.
If I’d been able to travel back and forth in time, who was to say they hadn’t done that very same thing themselves?
Perhaps the fact that I was standing before a MacDonald wasn’t a coincidence after all.
My blood ran cold. God, how I wished Logan was here to give me strength.
“My dear,” Mrs. MacDonald said, a questionable light coming into her eyes, her mouth parting in shock. She wrung her hands and looked back and forth between the both of us. “We are both here to help ye.”
I cocked my head studying her. I wanted to believe her, what reason did she have to lie—other than the fact that she could very well be my enemy?
I suppressed a shudder, recalling to mind the image of Laird MacDonald standing in our great hall. The vicious look in his eyes, the venomous words.
“I’m not certain I can believe you,” I said.
Mr. McAlister held out his hands in surrender. “I understand your situation is a bit frightening.”
“What do you know of my situation?” I asked, interrupting.
Did they knowallof it? Or just what Mrs. Lamb would have relayed about me running away from Steven? Mrs. MacDonald had not questioned my attire, though she had to have taken note that I was not dressed in modern day clothes when she called me into her house. Then again, she could have simply guessed that Steven made me dress that way. One never knew when it came to controlling men what exactly they would have their wives do.
Or maybe she’d just assumed that it was a cultural or religious decision. I’d seen that before.
“I know ye’re a friend of Shona and Moira’s.” His eyes were honest as he met mine, nodding slowly as if hoping to subtly convey that he wanted my agreement.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I came by the house to check and see if they’d yet arrived. I come by every day around this same time, usually when I’m finished at my office. I keep their place stocked with food. There is a cleaning lady that comes once a week to make certain the house doesn’t fill with dust in their absence.” He shook his head, looking slightly ashamed. “I’d not thought about the yard, which I should have, and I appreciate ye pointing out my shortcomings there.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and I winced, expecting to see him pull out a weapon despite his convincing words, but all he did was pull out his cell phone.
“What are you doing with that?” I asked, picturing the man signaling to Steven that he had me and then watching my ex-husband storm through the door.
We might still legally be married in Steven’s eyes, and perhaps even the eyes of the law, but to me, he was a stranger. My ex. Never would I allow him control over me again.
I’d been gone for years, divorced him in my mind and moved on.
I was Logan’s wife. In love with Logan. We had a child.
But I was more than that; I was also my own person. Steven had never wanted me to be anything more than a possession. A robot. A plaything.
I couldn’t belong to Steven anymore. A plaything that he kept locked up and only let out when he wanted to jab at me with his words or body.
“I’m going to call the shop. There’s a lass there who works for Shona and Moira, been running it since they left. She’ll know best what to do about the yard. I admit to knowing next to nothing about keeping plants.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had no way of proving whether or not these people were actually helping me or hindering me. The best I could do was stay on my toes. Not let my guard down.
“How about some supper?” Mrs. MacDonald asked, breaking the silence.
“It smells delicious,” Mr. McAlister said.
My stomach grumbled, but I still felt too jumpy to eat a thing, afraid it would all come right back up.
“How about a glass of wine?” he asked me, walking toward the counter. He lifted a bottle of red. “I brought this in hopes Moira would be home. She has great taste in wine.”
