“Jennifer, it’s Cait,” Rory’s mother spoke loudly next to Jennifer’s face. “I did not try to poison ya. That was a small potion to bring out the truth so that we could help ya.”
“Don’t lie to her, Ma,” Maura said. “Ya did it to help Rory, not Jennifer. She deserves to hear the truth.”
“Help both of them,” Cait said, only to add louder, “Jennifer, I did it to help both of ya. I didn’t know it would bring the truth out in such literal terms. Choking on peat is very telling, though. It means ya have the bog witch inside ya, affecting ya.”
“Women like to be called wenches, not witches,” Raibeart stated. “Unless they are a witch, then it’s all right. It’s called political correctness, Cait.”
“That’s not how that works,” Bruce said. Everyone ignored him.
Cait continued in her loud tone, “Since ya have been at the motel, I’ve been brewing up another batch. The cheese ball contained the last of my stock. I think if ya tried it again, we might learn more.”
Oh, hell no. You keep your potions away from me, devil woman.
“She’ll think about it,” Raibeart said.
“Good,” Cait answered. “I’m happy to hear you’re being reasonable.”
Please tell her she doesn’t need to yell. I can hear her.
Before Raibeart got the chance to mess up that message too, Rory said, “Ma, please go check on the potion and make sure it’s ready if Jennifer wants to try it—but only if she wants to. Bruce, can ya take Jim outside for a bit and feed him?”
“Aye,” Bruce said. “Come on then, Jim.”
“Careful, there have been gremians in the area again,” Murdoch said. “They should be sleeping this time of day, but they’ll try to ride Jim like a pony if they run across him.”
“Oh, aye, those hellions have been hunting me,” Raibeart said. “Little do they know it’s a trap, and I’m hunting them.”
“I’ll help with the potion,” Maura said. “I have a cut on my leg I need ya to look at anyway, Ma. It’s not healing fast enough.”
“I’m staying here until Jennifer comes out of this petrified state,” Rory said.
“Come, Raibeart, let’s leave the love birds alone,” Murdoch said. “I think I heard Jewel playing dragon slayer upstairs. We should probably make sure she doesn’t conjure an actual dragon.”
“I taught her that one,” Raibeart answered proudly. “Being a pretty princess and drinking tea is all well in good, but my little phoenix is also going to learn how to kick arse.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Kenneth ya are the one to get credit for it,” Murdoch answered.
“No one is ever going to hurt that wee bairn,” Raibeart insisted.
“Oh, love,” Rory whispered next to her. “I wish I could hear ya. Don’t read anything into the fact that I can’t. Uncle Raibeart is a special kind of touched. He tends to see beyond the veil more than the rest of us.”
I wish you could hear me too.
“I promise I won’t leave your side,” Rory said. “And, since this is going to be a one-way conversation, I’ll try to make it entertaining. I’m also only going to tell ya stories where I end up looking good. I have to impress my lady, after all.”
I’m already impressed. Thank you for not leaving me alone.
Rory cleared his throat. “Have ya ever heard of the fine sport of caber tossing?”
Chapter Seventeen
Jim bounced across the back garden, running in circles as he chased leaves. The puppy didn’t have a care in the world. Jennifer sat with Rory on a stone bench, watching Jim scamper from the cobblestone path into the thick grass lining it. The dog didn’t venture toward the trees, which was good since she didn’t want to chase him through the woods again. She was a little jealous of his innocence.
Jennifer rubbed her arms, reassuring herself that she was pliable. Being stuck in a stone-cast state had been a horrible feeling. She could hear and think, but her body had been imprisoned. Though it felt like days, Rory assured her it had been mere hours.
Rory had stayed beside her, mostly talking about sports and old mischiefs the family had found themselves in. At the end of each story, he would give a small laugh and announce that he was the one who’d saved the day. Usually, his two cousins Iain and Euann would come out looking like idiots.
Rory’s interpretation of the past was clearly self-biased.
She didn’t care. He’d kept his word, and she had been very entertained while she’d softened.
“Hey, guys!” Maura appeared around the side of the house. “I got your contraband.”
Jennifer laughed as Maura tossed a to-go bag from a local sandwich shop at them. Rory caught it with one hand, keeping his other around Jennifer’s shoulders.
“Much obliged,” Rory said.
“No worries,” Maura answered, barely breaking stride as she reversed her steps. “I wouldn’t trust anything that came out of Ma’s kitchen right now either. I have to get back before she starts wondering where I ran off to. She’s a little on edge thinking one of her baby boys is in trouble.”
“What about the Crimson Tavern?” Jennifer asked.
“I called your boss and let him know ya weren’t coming in. I lied and told him ya were sick. I know how important the job is to ya.” Maura gave a small wave before turning to jog toward the back door.
“I hope I’m not fired after this,” Jennifer said. Having someone call in for her wasn’t the most professional way to handle a job. It’s not like she was in a coma. “I wouldn’t blame him after my performance the other night.”
“Ya can’t dwell on that,” Rory said. “It wasn’t as bad as ya fear.”
“That’s sweet, but it was,” she said.
“If
