Highland Protector
Page 2
“I’ve been here for two moons…months,” Amber corrected herself in an attempt to use the proper words from this century. “What has you so joyous?”
Helen’s eyes swept up her frame. “It can wait until you’ve dried your hair. Besides, Simon and I wanted to tell you and Mrs. Dawson together.”
Amber lifted a brush and stroked the ends of her hair. She probably should cut the locks short but she couldn’t bring herself to the task. Every part of her life had changed, and her appearance in the mirror was one of the only things that reminded her who she was and where she came from…of her home. “News worthy of an audience?”
“The best. Ten minutes?” Helen asked.
“If you won’t mind damp hair, I’ll be down in five.”
“Awesome.” Helen moved forward, as if she were going to embrace Amber. She hesitated, nearly tripping over her feet and sighed. “Five minutes,” she said before turning and leaving.
Amber’s own sorrow filled her heart as Helen fled the room. A simple expression of love, of joy, a hug wasn’t something given freely to her because of the emotional attack on her system.
Most Druid gifts were a blessing. If managed, those gifts were used to protect and serve the recipient of the gifts…and their families. Amber’s gift had served a useful purpose for years. Something easily managed and controlled. Until her family battled with Grainna and the power inside her tripled. It was as if she’d drawn in the sinister side of Grainna’s power. The thought left something inside Amber cold and dead. She wanted nothing of the powerful Druid’s essence inside of her. Yet she knew something leaked into her with the woman’s death.
Once Amber ran a brush through her hair, she tied it back in a silk ribbon, placed a pair of slippers on her feet, and descended the stairs.
She found Helen and Simon in the kitchen, a place she seldom visited when living with her parents in the sixteenth century. In this time, it seemed most of their conversations were around the stone island.
Simon stood beside Helen who was perched on the edge of a stool, his arm draped lovingly over her shoulders. The love radiating off the two of them penetrated the cloak and made Amber smile. When he nuzzled the side of Helen’s neck, Amber cleared her throat. “Perhaps I should leave and come back another time?” she asked with a grin.
Helen laughed and pushed Simon playfully away. “Don’t be silly.”
“There you are.” Mrs. Dawson walked into the room. The cane in her hand was a constant companion after the three o’clock hour. Seemed her legs grew weaker as the day grew long.
Simon pulled out a chair for Mrs. Dawson.
“Thank you.” She patted Simon’s hand before folding her hands together in her lap. “So what has prompted this family meeting?”
Amber glanced between Helen, Simon, and Mrs. Dawson, her new family, and waited.
Helen nodded toward her husband. “You tell them.”
Simon stood behind Helen with his hands on her shoulders, his lips pulled back into a huge smile. “Helen is pregnant with our child.”
“Oh, Simon.” Amber moved around the counter, pushed back her worry about touching others, and wrapped her arms around Simon. His strong arms folded her in and his warmth filled her with hope. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Mrs. Dawson moved from her chair to hug Helen before Amber switched places with the older woman.
“I cannot wait for tiny feet to run around the house,” Amber told Helen when she hugged her. “I think I miss the children of my father’s home most of all.”
“I’m going to need some serious help,” Helen said. “I know nothing about babies.”
“The baby will teach you everything you need to know,” Simon said.
Still, Amber could feel Helen’s worry lacing her joy. “I can help,” Amber told her.
Mrs. Dawson sat again. “Will you find out the sex of the baby before you give birth…or wait?”
Helen shrugged. “I see no reason to wait. The doctor said we’ll be able to tell in a couple of months.”
“Would you like to know now?” Amber asked.
Simon pulled in a breath. “I completely forgot that you were able to guess the baby’s sex back home.”
Simon referred to their sixteenth century life as if their mutual family lived in another town and not another time.
“You can do that?” Helen asked.
“I can. ’Tis one of the more useful sides of my gift.”
Helen sent a hopeful smile to Simon, who nodded.
“Let’s do it,” Simon said.
“Shall we move to the living room? I need you to lie down so I can touch your belly.”
Even through Helen’s hopeful smile, a measure of concern pushed beyond the barrier of the cloak. “Won’t that hurt you?”
Amber swallowed and offered a convincing lie. “’Tis not that bad today. I’ll be fine.”
She followed the others into the larger room and instructed Helen to lie on her back and bare her abdomen so she might search out the newest member of their family.
Helen used Simon’s lap as a pillow while Mrs. Dawson sat in a chair on the other side of the room.
“Is this good?” Helen lifted her shirt and slid the edge of her jeans down.
“Perfect.” Moisture gathered on Amber’s forehead even before she reached to remove her cloak. Moving slowly at first, the cloak slid off her shoulder and the first wave of emotions of those in the room hit her. Excitement radiated from Helen. That joy kept Amber in motion. She didn’t need Helen worrying about her. Simon agonized under his pretend smile. He, of all people, knew this caused her pain. Mrs. Dawson, the dear, had a unique ability to feel like a gentle wave upon the ocean. Amber knew she was there…that she cared…but her emotions only truly shot through Amber when the woman didn’t think Amber was near.
Amber gathered the cloak in her hands and kept it close to her body as several waves descended upon her from every direction. Someone close by emitted the pain of loss, their heart was broken and nearly made Amber whimper. Another neighbor fretted over money and a child was frightened of the darkness. She closed her eyes for a moment and sat.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I just need a moment.” Amber thought of Mrs. Dawson’s gentle wave and attempted to mute the neighbors’ misery. Her attempt to beat the emotions surrounding her into silence only muffled them slightly. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled and rubbed her hands together with fake confidence. “Ready?”
Helen’s eyes swept up her frame. “It can wait until you’ve dried your hair. Besides, Simon and I wanted to tell you and Mrs. Dawson together.”
Amber lifted a brush and stroked the ends of her hair. She probably should cut the locks short but she couldn’t bring herself to the task. Every part of her life had changed, and her appearance in the mirror was one of the only things that reminded her who she was and where she came from…of her home. “News worthy of an audience?”
“The best. Ten minutes?” Helen asked.
“If you won’t mind damp hair, I’ll be down in five.”
“Awesome.” Helen moved forward, as if she were going to embrace Amber. She hesitated, nearly tripping over her feet and sighed. “Five minutes,” she said before turning and leaving.
Amber’s own sorrow filled her heart as Helen fled the room. A simple expression of love, of joy, a hug wasn’t something given freely to her because of the emotional attack on her system.
Most Druid gifts were a blessing. If managed, those gifts were used to protect and serve the recipient of the gifts…and their families. Amber’s gift had served a useful purpose for years. Something easily managed and controlled. Until her family battled with Grainna and the power inside her tripled. It was as if she’d drawn in the sinister side of Grainna’s power. The thought left something inside Amber cold and dead. She wanted nothing of the powerful Druid’s essence inside of her. Yet she knew something leaked into her with the woman’s death.
Once Amber ran a brush through her hair, she tied it back in a silk ribbon, placed a pair of slippers on her feet, and descended the stairs.
She found Helen and Simon in the kitchen, a place she seldom visited when living with her parents in the sixteenth century. In this time, it seemed most of their conversations were around the stone island.
Simon stood beside Helen who was perched on the edge of a stool, his arm draped lovingly over her shoulders. The love radiating off the two of them penetrated the cloak and made Amber smile. When he nuzzled the side of Helen’s neck, Amber cleared her throat. “Perhaps I should leave and come back another time?” she asked with a grin.
Helen laughed and pushed Simon playfully away. “Don’t be silly.”
“There you are.” Mrs. Dawson walked into the room. The cane in her hand was a constant companion after the three o’clock hour. Seemed her legs grew weaker as the day grew long.
Simon pulled out a chair for Mrs. Dawson.
“Thank you.” She patted Simon’s hand before folding her hands together in her lap. “So what has prompted this family meeting?”
Amber glanced between Helen, Simon, and Mrs. Dawson, her new family, and waited.
Helen nodded toward her husband. “You tell them.”
Simon stood behind Helen with his hands on her shoulders, his lips pulled back into a huge smile. “Helen is pregnant with our child.”
“Oh, Simon.” Amber moved around the counter, pushed back her worry about touching others, and wrapped her arms around Simon. His strong arms folded her in and his warmth filled her with hope. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Mrs. Dawson moved from her chair to hug Helen before Amber switched places with the older woman.
“I cannot wait for tiny feet to run around the house,” Amber told Helen when she hugged her. “I think I miss the children of my father’s home most of all.”
“I’m going to need some serious help,” Helen said. “I know nothing about babies.”
“The baby will teach you everything you need to know,” Simon said.
Still, Amber could feel Helen’s worry lacing her joy. “I can help,” Amber told her.
Mrs. Dawson sat again. “Will you find out the sex of the baby before you give birth…or wait?”
Helen shrugged. “I see no reason to wait. The doctor said we’ll be able to tell in a couple of months.”
“Would you like to know now?” Amber asked.
Simon pulled in a breath. “I completely forgot that you were able to guess the baby’s sex back home.”
Simon referred to their sixteenth century life as if their mutual family lived in another town and not another time.
“You can do that?” Helen asked.
“I can. ’Tis one of the more useful sides of my gift.”
Helen sent a hopeful smile to Simon, who nodded.
“Let’s do it,” Simon said.
“Shall we move to the living room? I need you to lie down so I can touch your belly.”
Even through Helen’s hopeful smile, a measure of concern pushed beyond the barrier of the cloak. “Won’t that hurt you?”
Amber swallowed and offered a convincing lie. “’Tis not that bad today. I’ll be fine.”
She followed the others into the larger room and instructed Helen to lie on her back and bare her abdomen so she might search out the newest member of their family.
Helen used Simon’s lap as a pillow while Mrs. Dawson sat in a chair on the other side of the room.
“Is this good?” Helen lifted her shirt and slid the edge of her jeans down.
“Perfect.” Moisture gathered on Amber’s forehead even before she reached to remove her cloak. Moving slowly at first, the cloak slid off her shoulder and the first wave of emotions of those in the room hit her. Excitement radiated from Helen. That joy kept Amber in motion. She didn’t need Helen worrying about her. Simon agonized under his pretend smile. He, of all people, knew this caused her pain. Mrs. Dawson, the dear, had a unique ability to feel like a gentle wave upon the ocean. Amber knew she was there…that she cared…but her emotions only truly shot through Amber when the woman didn’t think Amber was near.
Amber gathered the cloak in her hands and kept it close to her body as several waves descended upon her from every direction. Someone close by emitted the pain of loss, their heart was broken and nearly made Amber whimper. Another neighbor fretted over money and a child was frightened of the darkness. She closed her eyes for a moment and sat.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine. I just need a moment.” Amber thought of Mrs. Dawson’s gentle wave and attempted to mute the neighbors’ misery. Her attempt to beat the emotions surrounding her into silence only muffled them slightly. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled and rubbed her hands together with fake confidence. “Ready?”
