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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer in Part 1
The Truth Hurts
Part 19
by imagine
It took a considerable amount of effort for Margaret to react appropriately to everything her son told her. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed she could not pull her thoughts away from Lilias' arrival in Inverness. Frustrated by the fact that she hadn't anticipated the old woman's appearance, Margaret was anxious to find a quiet place to consider her next move. Unfortunately, Jarod's voice droned on about his precious Miss Parker.
"I have to find her, Mom," he said, "If something happens . ."
"Jarod, it'll be all right," she said, slipping one hand to his shoulder and tenderly massaging the muscle, "You will have the life you were meant to have, surrounded by those who know you best."
Without warning, Jarod shifted in the booth and slid his arms around her, gently pulling his mother to his chest. Despite the warmth he wrapped her in, she felt his body trembling against hers. She supposed he may have been reacting to their unexpected reunion or the words she spoke in false consolation; but, more than likely, Jarod's body was being affected by his feeling of helplessness and isolation. Not knowing the whereabouts of Miss Parker - or their baby - was making Jarod feel isolated and more vulnerable than Margaret had imagined it would.
Soon, she told herself, he would remember feeling no other way.
In order to provide Jarod with the comfort and reassurance he craved, Margaret had to call upon her pretending skills, since her feelings for her son had never developed the way his had for her. As she slipped her arms around him, bracing herself for the emotional display, she was surprised to find that a small part of her was disappointed by her own insincerity.
Pulling him tighter, so she could peer over his shoulder, she whispered everything would work out while telling herself there were more important things to do than tend to the Pretender's emotions. She watched through the plate glass window as Lilias and Marley made their way to the parking lot with two large pieces of luggage. The older woman was planning an extended stay, which meant Margaret had to keep Jarod away from the Inn, and Lilias, as well as Miss Parker, if she had any hope of seeing her plans for him succeed.
Finally pulling from his grasp and taking both his hands in hers, she repeated her words of reassurance, allowing tears to well in her eyes, but refusing to let them trickle down her face. There was such a thing as overkill, she decided.
Jarod returned her smile weakly then lowered his eyes, his attention suddenly focused on the gold band decorating her left ring finger. Gently fingering the jewelry, his thoughts wandered slowly away from Parker.
"Your father gave me that ring almost forty-five years ago," she told him softly, "After I lost Emily, it was the only tangible proof I had that my family existed."
"The pattern matches his," Jarod commented, inspecting the beveled edges.
"That's right. We wanted . . ." she hesitated, her mouth open as she stared at him.
"I've seen him," Jarod explained with a grin, answering her unvoiced question.
"What? When?"
"The last time was a little less than a year ago, but we've been in contact. Emily and I set up . ."
"Emily?" she repeated, tightening the grip on his hand, "Emily and your father are together?"
"They were a month ago," he said, opting not to tell her about the boy, just yet, "They're taking care of each other until we can be a family again."
The dark woman who had taken their order returned with two cups of tea and a plate of cookies. Nodding his thanks as she placed the snack in front of them, Jarod turned back to his mother. Her eyes were not as wide as they had been, but her breathing had become slightly labored.
"Mom, are you all right?"
"Where are they?" she asked, hoping he was misreading her desperation for anticipation.
"I don't know," he admitted solemnly, watching her carefully, "For safety reasons, we make a point of not revealing our location too often, in case we're being monitored. Six months ago they were in San Francisco."
San Francisco. Six months ago. Not good.
"But you're sure they're ... all right?" she asked breathlessly.
He nodded, his eyes sparkling with the re-emerging grin, "They're
fine, and they'll be ecstatic when I tell them .."
"No," she interrupted, "Not now."
His brows crinkled as she pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes.
Margaret took a deep breath and released it slowly, chastising herself for speaking too quickly. He was getting suspicious. In the time it took to fill her lungs again, she had decided how to turn the situation to her advantage and faced Jarod. His face still emitting a dark curiosity, Margaret sighed, squeezed his hand again and averted her eyes to the cup in front of her long enough to plant a seed of concern in her son's mind.
"Mom . ."
"Jarod, listen to me very closely," her voice was a thick but barely whisper and she didn't raise her eyes to him, forcing the Pretender to lean forward, "I came to Inverness looking for something; but, had I known you were here, I would have stayed away."
"What? Why?"
"Because, by coming here, I've done the one thing I swore I would never do again. I've put you at risk. If you tell your father and sister we're together, they'll be in danger, too."
"No," he insisted, "We're perfectly safe here."
"For how long? An hour? A day?" she countered, gripping his hand
tighter as she manufactured the panic that seeped into her voice, "The
Centre has been tracking me for years, if they . ."
"They won't," he interrupted, anticipating her concerns, "They won't find you."
"They already have," she admitted apologetically, slowly meeting his gaze, "That's why I was at the train station."
"You were leaving."
She nodded.
"If I hadn't seen you . . Where were you going?"
"Originally, Edinburgh," she answered, "but, now that I've found you, it'll have to be further away."
"No."
She pushed herself from the table, "You need to stay here, in order to find Miss Parker and .. your child," she swallowed the words that referred to the baby as her grandchild before continuing, "Edinburgh isn't far enough away. They might still find out where you are, and I couldn't take it if something happened to you."
He rose quickly, taking her by the shoulders and blocking her path, "You can't leave. I won't be separated from you, too. Please, don't go. I can protect you."
As if she were considering his request, Margaret glanced around the tiny café, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. Then, laying her hands on his forearms, she looked up at him and shook her head. He didn't resist when she slid from his grasp but he quickly took hold of one hand.
"Come with me to the Inn," he urged, retrieving a set of keys from his pocket, "You and I can . ."
"Jarod, it's too much of a risk," she said firmly, "Think of Miss Parker. Think of your child. Think what would happen to them if the Centre found out about them."
At the mention of Parker and the baby, Jarod lowered his eyes. She was right. Parker and the baby were in more danger than he had allowed himself to comprehend, but, the woman in front of him was his mother. How could he let her just walk away?
*********
Violet and her talents were so well known, she had been a sort of celebrity in Inverness for as long as Marley could remember. But, on several occasions, her grandmother had admitted, privately, that Lilias' gifts surpassed hers. Though Marley had never seen proof of that fact, she had known, even as a child, not to question Violet Penfield.
As a result, every summer between her sixth and seventeenth birthdays, Marley was sent to stay with Lil and Alasdair at Kinlock Inn. When she protested, her grandmother always insisted that she was to learn from the best, in order to avoid the same mistakes she had made, and Lilias was the best.
During those summers, Marley was taught about her family, their talents and her own gifts while being instructed in the art of operating an Inn. Her lessons had used photo albums, newspaper clippings and diaries as well as cook books, accounting journals and laundry supplies but Lilias and Alasdair had always seen to it that she be a child, too. Before long, she was almost as fond of the couple as she was of her grandmother.
Marley glanced at the older woman, "Aunt Lil?"
Shaking herself from her reverie, the woman faced her grandniece and forced a smile, "'Tis all right, Lass, I'm jest takin' in the scenery."
Marley turned her attention back to the winding road. In the comfortable quiet, she recalled the way her grandmother's face softened whenever she spoke of her younger sister and their childhood. At Kinlock, Lil had reacted the same way when speaking of Violet. It had made Marley long for the sister, or brother, she would never have.
"I'm glad ye came."
Lilias patted the younger woman's hand, "I jest wish it had been sooner, but Alasdair had taken ill. I couldn't leave him."
"It's all right, Aunt Lil," she said softly, "Grannie understood."
"Aye," the woman answered with a sigh, staring out the window, "she always did."
There was a long pause as Lilias tried to shake the feeling of dread that had washed over her at the station. For the last ten minutes, she had been blaming her anxiousness on the loss of her sister; but, Lilias knew something else was wrong. Opening the window, she leaned out and stared at the sky. When she pulled her head back in, she sighed, "It's colder than it ought to be. The shadows are refusin' to let the warmth through."
Marley nodded, but was unsure of a response.
*********
Thunder rolled angrily in the darkness and Margaret had to bite back the smile of satisfaction that threatened to betray her as lightening flashed in the sky. She knew her son well enough to know that the mere threat she might leave him, again, would make him less guarded and more accomodating. If she could isolate him somewhere, keep him off balance until such time she decided he should be reprogrammed and returned to his rightful place, her power over Mr. Parker would increase exponentially. After all, Jarod was the key to it all.
"Let me protect you," he urged. Still holding the key ring, he slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her eyes to his, "Please, let me take you to the Inn tonight. You'll be safe . ."
"Jarod, the Inn . . your room . . would not be safe for either of us, if they saw me. Please, understand, I have to go. The train . ."
"Give me one night," he interrupted, refusing to acknowledge the desperation in his voice, "I'll take you anywhere you want. I promise. Just let me spend one night with my mother."
Margaret's attention was drawn to his right hand as the silver ring glistened in response to the lightening outside. Three keys dangled from the metal. The first, and largest, was obviously his car key; the second, his room key; and the third . .
*********
Alasdair lowered the bags to the wooden table and sighed. He had never known Erin Gordon to be so talkative and had done his best to avoid a lengthy dialogue, but now felt as if he had failed miserably.
Erin had been persistent. Offering her condolences toward Violet's death, she went on to tell him how badly she felt for Lilias, telling him she would do whatever she could to make the loss easier. Afterall, she reminded him, she had just lost her beloved Payne, and knew what Lil was feeling. When he hesitated in responding, she accused him of believing the rumors that were being spread about her.
He managed to be vague in his response, but, the truth was, the shadow of suspicion that hung over Erin was only part of the reason he wanted to be free of her company. His young guest's warning about one `named for the island across the sea', was still ringing in his ears.
The only thing he had done right was to assure her he didn't need company for the evening. Telling the woman that he was still a bit run down from his bout with the cold, he stated that his plans included nothing but a light dinner, a book and a good night's rest. Luckily, she had seemed to accept his gentle rejection.
"You're back."
He glanced at the young man entering the kitchen, then turned back to the table, "Aye, the shop was nearly empty. Ye didn't have to leave the lass to get yer supplies," he added, when Ethan retrieved one of the items from the bag, "I would `ave brought them to ye."
Ethan smiled, "I know, but my sister is on a telephone call and I felt she needed some privacy. Besides, I thought I might be able to help."
"No need," Alasdair promised, "it's best ye git back to your sister."
"He's already helped his sister immensely," Parker said, greeting the two men with a grin.
"Ye look tired, Lass," Alasdair commented, "Dinna ye rest at all?"
"Don't worry," she told him, patting his hand, "I'm feeling much better."
"Was Sydney able to tell you anything?" Ethan asked.
"Plenty," she answered as someone knocked on the front door.
Excusing himself, Alasdair shuffled through the kitchen and living room toward the entrance. He was no more than two steps away when the door opened inward, revealing the tall, red haired woman, dangling a shopping bag at her side.
"Erin Gordon," he chided, "din ye `ave better manners than to let yerself in to someone else's home? I told ye I wanted to be alone tonight."
She looked past him, "The more I thought about ye, up here by yer lonesome, the more I began to worry," she lifted the bag, "I brought ye some supper."
"Well, ye can take it home wit' ye," he admonished harshly, moving in front of her.
Though he was at least twenty years her senior, he towered over the woman with the determination of a much younger man. His gray eyes sparkling with anger at the intrusion and his arms crossed in front of him, he refused her admittance to his home.
"Git!" he bellowed, motioning toward the door, "I'm in no mood to be puttin' up with the likes of you."
Erin looked up at him, offering a patronizing grin as she tried to push past him. Her resolve began to fade, however, when the man blocked both her path and view into the rest of the house. Her task wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought.
"Fine," she huffed, "I'll leave. But, remember this, I was offerin' the hand of friendship and ye turned me away."
"I'll do more than that, Lass, if ye dinna leave my home by the count of three," he warned, his words rolling off his tongue as she moved on to the porch.
Without another word, Alasdair slammed the door, immediately engaging the deadbolt. He could feel his blood percolating to his face, fueling his anger and concern. Erin had always been the type to push herself on someone, but, never had she done so with him.
Taking a breath, he returned to the kitchen. The back door was open and the room was empty. Shaking his head, he stepped on to the porch and gazed around the property for a sign of Catie's children and wishing Lilias was home. She would know how to help them.
*********
Jarod, not Miss Parker, had Catherine's key. Startled by the revelation, Margaret gazed at it a little longer than she should have before looking away. Glancing out the window behind him, she hoped her face hadn't betrayed her sudden excitement at the realization Miss Parker was no longer a threat. Though the young woman was still missing, Margaret was confident she would be recapatured soon. She could be dealt with accordingly until the child was born without the fear that the key would fall into the wrong hands. Soon, Margaret would have everything she needed.
Abruptly, her eyes widened and she stepped back, bringing her hand to her mouth as a soft cry escaped her throat.
"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked as she tugged on his arm, stopping him from looking out the window.
"The train. They're searching the train," she said breathlessly, meeting his gaze, "They've found me. You have to get out of here, Jarod. Now."
"Are you sure?" he glanced at the station, his eyes searching the travelers lined up beneath the canopy, "Maybe . ."
"It's them," she hissed, grabbing his hand and pushing him toward the back door, "You have to leave before they come in here."
"No," he said, "Don't ask me to leave you. I can't," he insisted, refusing to release her hand, "My car is about half a block away. I'll take you somewhere safe."
"Jarod, I can't .. won't .. go to your room. It's not safe for you or . ."
"Fine, we won't go there," he said, taking her hand, "Trust me, it'll be all right."
"Baby, listen to me," she urged, "there is nowhere in Inverness that would be safe, as long as we're together. Nowhere."
"Mom, please, I promise I know a safe place," he spoke quickly, his hand tightening around hers, "Parker and I found it about a month ago and it became very special to us. No one knows about it, I swear. You have to believe me when I tell you you'll be safe."
Glancing once more out the window at the imaginary sweepers, Margaret nodded hesitantly before letting Jarod guide her through the cafe, toward the back door. Having had Jarod and his beloved under surveillance for months, she knew exactly where he was taking her and the location was perfect for what she had in mind for him. Once she contacted them, her people could be there in a few hours, and until then, Jarod would be all hers.
*********
By the time they got back to the cottage, a light rain had begun again. Ethan unlocked the door then stood back and allowed her to enter the room. Her face had paled slightly during the trip back from the main house, and she had grown suddenly quiet. He had wanted to ask her what she'd learned from Sydney, but, there hadn't been time. Now, he decided his questions could wait until after his sister had gotten some solid sleep.
"Cameron," she whispered, lowering herself into a nearby chair, "I don't understand."
Ethan knelt beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders, "You will."
"What if it's too late? What if, by the time I remember what happened, I've lost him?"
"No one is going to take your son," he answered.
"What about Jarod? What if that witch . .?" she took a breath and leaned back, letting her head dangle over the back of the chair, "If I go back now, without knowing everything that happened to me, I'll endanger my son; if I don't, I endanger his father."
"You remember that Jarod is Cameron's father?"
She sighed and shook her head, "He told me. He said his father was looking for me, but that he was blind to the danger. Who else could it be?"
*********
Marley pushed open the heavy door and motioned for her Great Aunt to step into the lobby of the Inn. Waiting until the older woman had complied, she slid the two large suitcases over the threshold and against the wall before shrugging off her jacket and calling out to announce their arrival.
Geile was the first to appear, her arms filled with her sleeping grandson. As he shifted in her arms, her eyes dropped from Marley to the luggage, questioningly. The younger woman smiled and pointed toward the adjoining room, where Lilias stood warming herself at the stone fireplace.
"Aunt Lil is here," she whispered.
"Lilias?" she asked, as if her eyes were betraying her, "I thought . ."
"Why don't you let me take Ian upstairs while you say hello?" she grinned.
Swallowing hard, the older woman nodded, smoothly transferring the child to Marley's arms. Nervously straightening her skirt before entering the room, she slipped her hand into the pocket and fingered the letter she'd found in Miss Parker's room.
Part 19
by imagine
It took a considerable amount of effort for Margaret to react appropriately to everything her son told her. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed she could not pull her thoughts away from Lilias' arrival in Inverness. Frustrated by the fact that she hadn't anticipated the old woman's appearance, Margaret was anxious to find a quiet place to consider her next move. Unfortunately, Jarod's voice droned on about his precious Miss Parker.
"I have to find her, Mom," he said, "If something happens . ."
"Jarod, it'll be all right," she said, slipping one hand to his shoulder and tenderly massaging the muscle, "You will have the life you were meant to have, surrounded by those who know you best."
Without warning, Jarod shifted in the booth and slid his arms around her, gently pulling his mother to his chest. Despite the warmth he wrapped her in, she felt his body trembling against hers. She supposed he may have been reacting to their unexpected reunion or the words she spoke in false consolation; but, more than likely, Jarod's body was being affected by his feeling of helplessness and isolation. Not knowing the whereabouts of Miss Parker - or their baby - was making Jarod feel isolated and more vulnerable than Margaret had imagined it would.
Soon, she told herself, he would remember feeling no other way.
In order to provide Jarod with the comfort and reassurance he craved, Margaret had to call upon her pretending skills, since her feelings for her son had never developed the way his had for her. As she slipped her arms around him, bracing herself for the emotional display, she was surprised to find that a small part of her was disappointed by her own insincerity.
Pulling him tighter, so she could peer over his shoulder, she whispered everything would work out while telling herself there were more important things to do than tend to the Pretender's emotions. She watched through the plate glass window as Lilias and Marley made their way to the parking lot with two large pieces of luggage. The older woman was planning an extended stay, which meant Margaret had to keep Jarod away from the Inn, and Lilias, as well as Miss Parker, if she had any hope of seeing her plans for him succeed.
Finally pulling from his grasp and taking both his hands in hers, she repeated her words of reassurance, allowing tears to well in her eyes, but refusing to let them trickle down her face. There was such a thing as overkill, she decided.
Jarod returned her smile weakly then lowered his eyes, his attention suddenly focused on the gold band decorating her left ring finger. Gently fingering the jewelry, his thoughts wandered slowly away from Parker.
"Your father gave me that ring almost forty-five years ago," she told him softly, "After I lost Emily, it was the only tangible proof I had that my family existed."
"The pattern matches his," Jarod commented, inspecting the beveled edges.
"That's right. We wanted . . ." she hesitated, her mouth open as she stared at him.
"I've seen him," Jarod explained with a grin, answering her unvoiced question.
"What? When?"
"The last time was a little less than a year ago, but we've been in contact. Emily and I set up . ."
"Emily?" she repeated, tightening the grip on his hand, "Emily and your father are together?"
"They were a month ago," he said, opting not to tell her about the boy, just yet, "They're taking care of each other until we can be a family again."
The dark woman who had taken their order returned with two cups of tea and a plate of cookies. Nodding his thanks as she placed the snack in front of them, Jarod turned back to his mother. Her eyes were not as wide as they had been, but her breathing had become slightly labored.
"Mom, are you all right?"
"Where are they?" she asked, hoping he was misreading her desperation for anticipation.
"I don't know," he admitted solemnly, watching her carefully, "For safety reasons, we make a point of not revealing our location too often, in case we're being monitored. Six months ago they were in San Francisco."
San Francisco. Six months ago. Not good.
"But you're sure they're ... all right?" she asked breathlessly.
He nodded, his eyes sparkling with the re-emerging grin, "They're
fine, and they'll be ecstatic when I tell them .."
"No," she interrupted, "Not now."
His brows crinkled as she pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes.
Margaret took a deep breath and released it slowly, chastising herself for speaking too quickly. He was getting suspicious. In the time it took to fill her lungs again, she had decided how to turn the situation to her advantage and faced Jarod. His face still emitting a dark curiosity, Margaret sighed, squeezed his hand again and averted her eyes to the cup in front of her long enough to plant a seed of concern in her son's mind.
"Mom . ."
"Jarod, listen to me very closely," her voice was a thick but barely whisper and she didn't raise her eyes to him, forcing the Pretender to lean forward, "I came to Inverness looking for something; but, had I known you were here, I would have stayed away."
"What? Why?"
"Because, by coming here, I've done the one thing I swore I would never do again. I've put you at risk. If you tell your father and sister we're together, they'll be in danger, too."
"No," he insisted, "We're perfectly safe here."
"For how long? An hour? A day?" she countered, gripping his hand
tighter as she manufactured the panic that seeped into her voice, "The
Centre has been tracking me for years, if they . ."
"They won't," he interrupted, anticipating her concerns, "They won't find you."
"They already have," she admitted apologetically, slowly meeting his gaze, "That's why I was at the train station."
"You were leaving."
She nodded.
"If I hadn't seen you . . Where were you going?"
"Originally, Edinburgh," she answered, "but, now that I've found you, it'll have to be further away."
"No."
She pushed herself from the table, "You need to stay here, in order to find Miss Parker and .. your child," she swallowed the words that referred to the baby as her grandchild before continuing, "Edinburgh isn't far enough away. They might still find out where you are, and I couldn't take it if something happened to you."
He rose quickly, taking her by the shoulders and blocking her path, "You can't leave. I won't be separated from you, too. Please, don't go. I can protect you."
As if she were considering his request, Margaret glanced around the tiny café, shifting her weight from one foot to the next. Then, laying her hands on his forearms, she looked up at him and shook her head. He didn't resist when she slid from his grasp but he quickly took hold of one hand.
"Come with me to the Inn," he urged, retrieving a set of keys from his pocket, "You and I can . ."
"Jarod, it's too much of a risk," she said firmly, "Think of Miss Parker. Think of your child. Think what would happen to them if the Centre found out about them."
At the mention of Parker and the baby, Jarod lowered his eyes. She was right. Parker and the baby were in more danger than he had allowed himself to comprehend, but, the woman in front of him was his mother. How could he let her just walk away?
*********
Violet and her talents were so well known, she had been a sort of celebrity in Inverness for as long as Marley could remember. But, on several occasions, her grandmother had admitted, privately, that Lilias' gifts surpassed hers. Though Marley had never seen proof of that fact, she had known, even as a child, not to question Violet Penfield.
As a result, every summer between her sixth and seventeenth birthdays, Marley was sent to stay with Lil and Alasdair at Kinlock Inn. When she protested, her grandmother always insisted that she was to learn from the best, in order to avoid the same mistakes she had made, and Lilias was the best.
During those summers, Marley was taught about her family, their talents and her own gifts while being instructed in the art of operating an Inn. Her lessons had used photo albums, newspaper clippings and diaries as well as cook books, accounting journals and laundry supplies but Lilias and Alasdair had always seen to it that she be a child, too. Before long, she was almost as fond of the couple as she was of her grandmother.
Marley glanced at the older woman, "Aunt Lil?"
Shaking herself from her reverie, the woman faced her grandniece and forced a smile, "'Tis all right, Lass, I'm jest takin' in the scenery."
Marley turned her attention back to the winding road. In the comfortable quiet, she recalled the way her grandmother's face softened whenever she spoke of her younger sister and their childhood. At Kinlock, Lil had reacted the same way when speaking of Violet. It had made Marley long for the sister, or brother, she would never have.
"I'm glad ye came."
Lilias patted the younger woman's hand, "I jest wish it had been sooner, but Alasdair had taken ill. I couldn't leave him."
"It's all right, Aunt Lil," she said softly, "Grannie understood."
"Aye," the woman answered with a sigh, staring out the window, "she always did."
There was a long pause as Lilias tried to shake the feeling of dread that had washed over her at the station. For the last ten minutes, she had been blaming her anxiousness on the loss of her sister; but, Lilias knew something else was wrong. Opening the window, she leaned out and stared at the sky. When she pulled her head back in, she sighed, "It's colder than it ought to be. The shadows are refusin' to let the warmth through."
Marley nodded, but was unsure of a response.
*********
Thunder rolled angrily in the darkness and Margaret had to bite back the smile of satisfaction that threatened to betray her as lightening flashed in the sky. She knew her son well enough to know that the mere threat she might leave him, again, would make him less guarded and more accomodating. If she could isolate him somewhere, keep him off balance until such time she decided he should be reprogrammed and returned to his rightful place, her power over Mr. Parker would increase exponentially. After all, Jarod was the key to it all.
"Let me protect you," he urged. Still holding the key ring, he slipped his fingers under her chin and raised her eyes to his, "Please, let me take you to the Inn tonight. You'll be safe . ."
"Jarod, the Inn . . your room . . would not be safe for either of us, if they saw me. Please, understand, I have to go. The train . ."
"Give me one night," he interrupted, refusing to acknowledge the desperation in his voice, "I'll take you anywhere you want. I promise. Just let me spend one night with my mother."
Margaret's attention was drawn to his right hand as the silver ring glistened in response to the lightening outside. Three keys dangled from the metal. The first, and largest, was obviously his car key; the second, his room key; and the third . .
*********
Alasdair lowered the bags to the wooden table and sighed. He had never known Erin Gordon to be so talkative and had done his best to avoid a lengthy dialogue, but now felt as if he had failed miserably.
Erin had been persistent. Offering her condolences toward Violet's death, she went on to tell him how badly she felt for Lilias, telling him she would do whatever she could to make the loss easier. Afterall, she reminded him, she had just lost her beloved Payne, and knew what Lil was feeling. When he hesitated in responding, she accused him of believing the rumors that were being spread about her.
He managed to be vague in his response, but, the truth was, the shadow of suspicion that hung over Erin was only part of the reason he wanted to be free of her company. His young guest's warning about one `named for the island across the sea', was still ringing in his ears.
The only thing he had done right was to assure her he didn't need company for the evening. Telling the woman that he was still a bit run down from his bout with the cold, he stated that his plans included nothing but a light dinner, a book and a good night's rest. Luckily, she had seemed to accept his gentle rejection.
"You're back."
He glanced at the young man entering the kitchen, then turned back to the table, "Aye, the shop was nearly empty. Ye didn't have to leave the lass to get yer supplies," he added, when Ethan retrieved one of the items from the bag, "I would `ave brought them to ye."
Ethan smiled, "I know, but my sister is on a telephone call and I felt she needed some privacy. Besides, I thought I might be able to help."
"No need," Alasdair promised, "it's best ye git back to your sister."
"He's already helped his sister immensely," Parker said, greeting the two men with a grin.
"Ye look tired, Lass," Alasdair commented, "Dinna ye rest at all?"
"Don't worry," she told him, patting his hand, "I'm feeling much better."
"Was Sydney able to tell you anything?" Ethan asked.
"Plenty," she answered as someone knocked on the front door.
Excusing himself, Alasdair shuffled through the kitchen and living room toward the entrance. He was no more than two steps away when the door opened inward, revealing the tall, red haired woman, dangling a shopping bag at her side.
"Erin Gordon," he chided, "din ye `ave better manners than to let yerself in to someone else's home? I told ye I wanted to be alone tonight."
She looked past him, "The more I thought about ye, up here by yer lonesome, the more I began to worry," she lifted the bag, "I brought ye some supper."
"Well, ye can take it home wit' ye," he admonished harshly, moving in front of her.
Though he was at least twenty years her senior, he towered over the woman with the determination of a much younger man. His gray eyes sparkling with anger at the intrusion and his arms crossed in front of him, he refused her admittance to his home.
"Git!" he bellowed, motioning toward the door, "I'm in no mood to be puttin' up with the likes of you."
Erin looked up at him, offering a patronizing grin as she tried to push past him. Her resolve began to fade, however, when the man blocked both her path and view into the rest of the house. Her task wasn't going to be as easy as she had thought.
"Fine," she huffed, "I'll leave. But, remember this, I was offerin' the hand of friendship and ye turned me away."
"I'll do more than that, Lass, if ye dinna leave my home by the count of three," he warned, his words rolling off his tongue as she moved on to the porch.
Without another word, Alasdair slammed the door, immediately engaging the deadbolt. He could feel his blood percolating to his face, fueling his anger and concern. Erin had always been the type to push herself on someone, but, never had she done so with him.
Taking a breath, he returned to the kitchen. The back door was open and the room was empty. Shaking his head, he stepped on to the porch and gazed around the property for a sign of Catie's children and wishing Lilias was home. She would know how to help them.
*********
Jarod, not Miss Parker, had Catherine's key. Startled by the revelation, Margaret gazed at it a little longer than she should have before looking away. Glancing out the window behind him, she hoped her face hadn't betrayed her sudden excitement at the realization Miss Parker was no longer a threat. Though the young woman was still missing, Margaret was confident she would be recapatured soon. She could be dealt with accordingly until the child was born without the fear that the key would fall into the wrong hands. Soon, Margaret would have everything she needed.
Abruptly, her eyes widened and she stepped back, bringing her hand to her mouth as a soft cry escaped her throat.
"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked as she tugged on his arm, stopping him from looking out the window.
"The train. They're searching the train," she said breathlessly, meeting his gaze, "They've found me. You have to get out of here, Jarod. Now."
"Are you sure?" he glanced at the station, his eyes searching the travelers lined up beneath the canopy, "Maybe . ."
"It's them," she hissed, grabbing his hand and pushing him toward the back door, "You have to leave before they come in here."
"No," he said, "Don't ask me to leave you. I can't," he insisted, refusing to release her hand, "My car is about half a block away. I'll take you somewhere safe."
"Jarod, I can't .. won't .. go to your room. It's not safe for you or . ."
"Fine, we won't go there," he said, taking her hand, "Trust me, it'll be all right."
"Baby, listen to me," she urged, "there is nowhere in Inverness that would be safe, as long as we're together. Nowhere."
"Mom, please, I promise I know a safe place," he spoke quickly, his hand tightening around hers, "Parker and I found it about a month ago and it became very special to us. No one knows about it, I swear. You have to believe me when I tell you you'll be safe."
Glancing once more out the window at the imaginary sweepers, Margaret nodded hesitantly before letting Jarod guide her through the cafe, toward the back door. Having had Jarod and his beloved under surveillance for months, she knew exactly where he was taking her and the location was perfect for what she had in mind for him. Once she contacted them, her people could be there in a few hours, and until then, Jarod would be all hers.
*********
By the time they got back to the cottage, a light rain had begun again. Ethan unlocked the door then stood back and allowed her to enter the room. Her face had paled slightly during the trip back from the main house, and she had grown suddenly quiet. He had wanted to ask her what she'd learned from Sydney, but, there hadn't been time. Now, he decided his questions could wait until after his sister had gotten some solid sleep.
"Cameron," she whispered, lowering herself into a nearby chair, "I don't understand."
Ethan knelt beside her, draping his arm around her shoulders, "You will."
"What if it's too late? What if, by the time I remember what happened, I've lost him?"
"No one is going to take your son," he answered.
"What about Jarod? What if that witch . .?" she took a breath and leaned back, letting her head dangle over the back of the chair, "If I go back now, without knowing everything that happened to me, I'll endanger my son; if I don't, I endanger his father."
"You remember that Jarod is Cameron's father?"
She sighed and shook her head, "He told me. He said his father was looking for me, but that he was blind to the danger. Who else could it be?"
*********
Marley pushed open the heavy door and motioned for her Great Aunt to step into the lobby of the Inn. Waiting until the older woman had complied, she slid the two large suitcases over the threshold and against the wall before shrugging off her jacket and calling out to announce their arrival.
Geile was the first to appear, her arms filled with her sleeping grandson. As he shifted in her arms, her eyes dropped from Marley to the luggage, questioningly. The younger woman smiled and pointed toward the adjoining room, where Lilias stood warming herself at the stone fireplace.
"Aunt Lil is here," she whispered.
"Lilias?" she asked, as if her eyes were betraying her, "I thought . ."
"Why don't you let me take Ian upstairs while you say hello?" she grinned.
Swallowing hard, the older woman nodded, smoothly transferring the child to Marley's arms. Nervously straightening her skirt before entering the room, she slipped her hand into the pocket and fingered the letter she'd found in Miss Parker's room.
