The Highlander's Touch

Page 63

She was angry at her father. Angry at his irresponsibility: his failure to have cars serviced, to take out life insurance, to carry adequate auto coverage, to plan for a future that might stretch beyond his present. In so many ways her father had been an overgrown child, no matter how charming he was. But Circenn Brodie would always plan for his family’s future. If he wed, he would keep his wife and children safe, no matter the cost to himself. Circenn Brodie took precautions, controlled his environment, and built an impenetrable fortress for those he called his own.
“Talk to me, lass.”
Lisa dragged herself from her bitter thoughts.
“If you tell me why you seek so desperately to return, I will bring you the flask. Is it a man?” he asked warily. “I thought you told me there had been no one.”
The tension that had quickened in her veins while she’d sat in the doorway, clutching the knife and waiting for him, dissipated suddenly. She chided herself for her foolishness: She should have foreseen that force wouldn’t work with this man.
The primary reason she’d refused to discuss Catherine with him was that she hadn’t wanted to make a fool of herself, to start talking and end up weeping openly before the impassive warrior. But her emotions were no longer under her control, and the need to talk consumed her, the need to have someone to trust, to confide in. Her defenses slipped further, leaving her raw and exposed. She sank to the floor. “No. It’s nothing like that. It’s my mother,” she whispered.
“Your mother what?” he pushed gently, sinking down beside her.
“She’s d-dying,” she said. She dropped her head forward, creating a curtain with her hair.
“Dying?”
“Yes.” She drew a deep breath. “I’m all she has left, Circenn. She’s ill and won’t live much longer. I was taking care of her, feeding her, working to support us. Now she is completely alone.” Once the words had started coming, they tumbled forth more easily. Maybe he did care enough to help her. Maybe if she told him all of it, he would find a way to return her.
“She was in a car wreck five years ago. We all were. My daddy died in it.” She stroked the baseball cap lovingly. “He bought me this a week before the wreck.” A bittersweet smile crossed her face at the memory. “The Reds won that day, and we went to dinner afterward with Mom, and that’s the last time I remember us all being together except for the day of the wreck. It’s my last good memory. After that, all I see are the crushed, jagged pieces of a blue Mercedes covered with blood and …”
Circenn winced. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he forced her to look at him. “Och, lass,” he whispered. He traced her tears with his thumb, his eyes mirroring her grief.
Lisa was soothed by his compassion. She’d never spoken aloud of this, even to Ruby, although her best friend had tried many times to get her to talk about it. She was discovering that it wasn’t as hard to confide in him as she’d feared. “Mom was crippled in the car wreck—”
“Car wreck?” he asked softly.
She struggled to explain. “Machines. The Mercedes was a car. In my time we don’t ride horses, we have metal”—she searched for a word to which he might relate—“carriages that carry us. Fast, sometimes too fast. The tire … er, wheel of the carriage came apart and we crashed into other machines. Daddy was crushed behind the steering wheel and died instantly.” Lisa blew out a breath and paused for a moment. “When they released me from the hospital, I found a job as quickly as I could, and a second one to take care of me and Mom and pay the bills. We lost everything,” she whispered. “It was horrible. We couldn’t pay the lawsuits, so they took our home and everything we had. And I’d accepted it—I had—I’d accepted that was how my life would be, until you took me away in the middle of something that I have to finish. My mother has cancer and only a short time to live. No one is there to feed her, pay the bills, or hold her hand.”
Circenn swallowed. He could not interpret much of what Lisa had said, but he understood that her mother was dying and she had been trying to take care of everything for quite some time. “She is entirely alone? There is no other of your clan left alive?”
Lisa shook her head. “Families aren’t like yours in my time. My father’s parents died long ago, and my mother was adopted. Now there’s only Mom, and I’m stuck here.”
“Och, lass.” He drew her into his arms.
“Don’t try to comfort me,” she cried, pushing against his chest. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who had to work in a museum. I’m the one who had to touch that damned flask. I’m the selfish one.”