Love Beyond Wanting Read online

  Mom continued as if she couldn’t hear me speaking. “I made eggs Benedict again—your favorite.”

  She’d made it every morning since arriving. While it was indeed my favorite meal, I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d tired of it days ago.

  “Thank you. You really don’t have to cook for me every morning. Sometimes, a bowl of cereal would be just fine.”

  She smiled and waved a dismissive hand as she stood and turned toward the door.

  “It’s no trouble. I enjoy doing it.”

  She paused as she reached the door and looked down at the mess of open books I had spread out over my desk. “What’s all this?”

  I couldn’t possibly tell her all that I was researching, all that Laurel was up to, or the fact that my sister was most likely chilling in the seventeenth century. “It’s nothing. Just doing some research. Trying to brainstorm ideas for Laurel’s next book.”

  She twisted her head to the side and looked at me skeptically. “Laurel’s next book?”

  I nodded and she shook her head as she exhaled sadly. “You shouldn’t miss your counseling sessions, Kate. Not even once. Why don’t you hop in the shower? We can eat before you leave for your appointment.”

  She left without another word, leaving me confused and wondering why my explanation of the books spread out on my desk had caused her to tell me I shouldn’t miss counseling.

  At least now I had something to talk about in today’s session.

  *

  “What do you think your mother meant by that statement, Kate?”

  I sighed and leaned back rather dramatically in my chair. “Please don’t do that. Don’t say the most therapy-sounding thing you could possibly say when I really do want your opinion. If I knew what she meant by it, I wouldn’t have spent all morning wondering what she meant by it.”

  She pinched her lips together as if contemplating whether or not to tell me what she was really thinking. “Why didn’t you simply ask her what she meant by it?”

  “I suppose I knew that if I did, she would give me some sort of non-answer and it would aggravate me and then we’d get into an argument.”

  “Or maybe you were worried that she would tell you exactly what she meant by it and that would aggravate you even more?”

  “See?” I pointed at her. “That’s why I don’t like therapists. You clearly believe you know what she meant by it, but you won’t tell me. You’d rather torture me by trying to make me figure it out on my own.”

  Dr. Ackard looked as if it was taking every muscle in her face to suppress an eye roll at my dramatics. “I am not trying to torture you, Kate. I just don’t want to answer the question because I don’t know your mother. I don’t know what she meant by the statement. You do know her.”

  “Okay, fine.” I paused as I tried to think of another way to approach this with her. “You also believe that I shouldn’t skip therapy every week. So, why don’t you tell me why you believe that? Why do I need to be here so badly? I don’t feel like I’m in a bad place anymore. I feel pretty stable and sound of mind.”

  She shifted in her seat but kept her expression calm and collected. “First of all, of course you are stable and sound of mind. Most people who seek counseling are and it’s offensive for you to suggest otherwise. Everyone needs help working through things in their life now and again.”

  I smiled, feeling vindicated. “That’s my point though. I feel as if I’ve worked through this difficult thing. I feel as if I’m past it.”

  Dr. Ackard shrugged and crossed her arms. “Perhaps you are. I really wouldn’t know.”

  “What does that mean? I’m in here with you every week. You should know better than anyone.”

  She gave me one curt nod and lifted a hand in concession. “You’re right. I should, but I really know nothing about you, Kate. I know a whole lot about your sister’s dating life and your efforts to see her set up via a whole host of online dating sites and disasters. I know a lot about your mother. I know that you loved your job before the fire, but I have no idea how you feel about it now. And now, I know a lot about your sister’s trip to Scotland and your desire to research her location, that I don’t quite understand, but I know nothing about you.”

  I didn’t understand her. Despite my weekly reluctance to attend my counseling sessions with her, I spoke to her the whole hour each and every time. I’d talked about all sorts of things over the weeks and months with her.

  “But all of those things are about me.”

  “No, Kate. They’re about the people close to you. You never talk about yourself. And whenever I ask you about anything related directly to you, you get squirmy.”

  My clothes felt suddenly too tight as my defensiveness grew.

  “I do not.”

  “How was your last date with Dillon? What do you think of his suggestion that you move out of Kate’s apartment and in with him?”

  Dillon had nothing to do with this. I glanced at the clock.

  “I think I’ve already gone over my hour.”

  “My next appointment cancelled. It’s fine if we go over.”

  I stood and moved toward the door. “I have to get to Sue’s. It takes a while from here. See you next week, Dr. Ackard.”

  She called after me as I reached the door. “Kate.”

  I paused with my hand on the handle.

  “Surely you can see that you’ve just proven my point. I’m here for you as long as you need me, but you’re never going to make any progress until you are willing to stop distracting yourself with anything and everything outside of yourself. First, it was getting Dillon set up in his dental practice, then it was Laurel’s dating life, now it’s Laurel’s trip to Scotland. Someday you’re going to have to deal with you.”

  I left without a word. Sue wouldn’t have to push me at all today. I was too frustrated and fired up. I had more than enough energy to do whatever she asked me to.

  Chapter 2

  The Scottish Mainland—1651

  *

  “What do ye imagine they’re up to?” Harry chuckled before continuing, “I know what I’d do if I had the castle to myself with a lass as bonny as Laurel as my only company. I wouldna leave my bedchamber. Not until the lot of ye returned and forced me out of it.”

  Three days on the mainland and there was still no sign of Calder. Maddock knew Harry only spoke in such a way to distract himself from all that was on his mind—no one worried over Calder’s departure more than Harry.

  “If Raudrich heard ye speak of Laurel like that, he’d bloody yer nose.”

  Nicol, their Master and the castle’s resident nocturne, snorted quietly but, as usual, said nothing.

  Harry’s face flushed red as he sheepishly looked downward to apologize. “Ach, ye know I meant no disrespect to the lass.”

  “Aye, I know, and I know what I’d be doing, as well, but Raudrich is daft. I willna be surprised if we return home to see that they are no closer to one another in body or mind. He still hasna told Laurel that he loves her when ’tis plain to everyone that he does.”

  Harry looked over at him with surprise. “Raudrich may know how he feels but ’tis no surprise that he’s not told her yet. They hardly know one another. The lass hasna been at the castle all that long.”

  Maddock shook his head in dismissal. Laurel was an easy lass to love. He suspected that every man in the castle, save Calder, was halfway in love with her, but none of them held her heart as Raudrich did.

  “Do ye think time matters with a lass like that? For so long, the lot of us have been isolated from the world outside of our castle. If given the chance to give my love to another as bonny as Laurel, I’d not hesitate a moment.”

  They rode in silence for a moment with Nicol trailing a short distance behind them. Eventually, Harry spoke again.

  “Would ye really, Maddock? Even with our destinies already fated? Would ye start a family there at the castle, knowing that ye may never truly leave the Isle? Would ye do so with Machara there?�
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  “Machara willna be there forever. With time, we will defeat her. She will die, and someday, we will all be free.”

  Maddock had no real reason to believe as he did, but it was a belief he never questioned. If he did, he knew his hope would crumble like wet parchment, and he had too many people to protect to allow that to happen.

  Harry let out a grumble and shook his head. “I wish I believed as ye do, Maddock. ’Twould be a nice dream to allow myself now and again.” His friend paused, then sheepishly continued, “But mayhap dreams do come true. One has for Raudrich in Laurel. The lass couldna suit him anymore perfectly.”

  Maddock agreed, but God how he envied him. “Aye. I doona envy Raudrich her. Laurel is a friend, and we couldna ever be more, but I do envy him the bond he’s found with her. Mayhap we should ask Laurel if she’s any sisters or friends she could invite to the Isle.”

  He laughed at the thought. How different things would be for all of them if more women suddenly entered their life.

  “Aye, I doona know of friends, but she does have a sister.”

  “What?” Maddock couldn’t believe that he didn’t know that. Raudrich was the only person at the castle who’d spent more time with Laurel than he. The two of them had formed a fast friendship, though clearly, they’d not yet gotten to know one another as well as he believed they had.

  “Does she really? Did she tell ye that?”

  “No, she dinna. Marcus mentioned her. He said that he and Laurel were forced to end their last trip to Scotland early after Laurel’s sister was caught in a fire.”

  “Was she…” Maddock hesitated. “Did the lass live?”

  “Aye, though she was gravely injured. I believe he mentioned something about the lass losing her arm.”

  Maddock shuddered as old, dreaded memories flashed through his mind. “When I was five, I saw a man burned alive. The sight of him, the sound of his screams, and that god-awful smell…” He shuddered. “I wouldna wish such a fate on anyone.”

  “Not even Machara?”

  Even the evil fae that kept them all bound to the Isle didn’t deserve such a fate.

  “Not even Machara. Where is her sister now?”

  Harry shrugged and nudged his horse to move more quickly. “I doona know, but I expect ’twillna be long before we see her. I doona believe Laurel and Marcus are going anywhere, and Laurel doesna seem like the sort of lass who would be content to be separated from her family.”

  The idea of meeting Laurel’s sister excited Maddock more than he was willing to admit—especially right now with Calder still missing and Machara’s threat looming larger than ever before.

  “Aye, and if she’s half as bonny as Laurel…” he trailed off as Harry laughed and spoke just a short distance ahead of him.

  “Aye, I believe she is. Marcus said she’s verra striking.”

  “O’course, she is.”

  He’d not yet met her and he could already sense he was in trouble.

  Chapter 3

  Present Day

  *

  It was exactly five-thirty in the morning when I finally cast aside any remaining doubt that all of this was real. After stewing over my therapist’s parting words for the better part of the day, I returned to Laurel’s apartment more ready than ever to dive back into the research I’d been obsessed over since the moment Laurel left for Scotland. Mr. Crinkles lay curled up on the far corner of my bed, surrounded by the empty wrappers of one-ounce pieces of chocolate that I’d recklessly strewn over the top of my mattress. Over the six-plus-hour study session, I’d nearly eaten my weight in chocolate. The candy, combined with the extra-large thermos of coffee I’d guzzled, had me near caffeine overdose. My feet seemed to bounce on their own as I reviewed my sources one more time. The book on The Isle of Eight Lairds, which had mysteriously appeared in my sister’s path, was now excessively highlighted and worn from use. The four credible websites I’d found on the subject were all open on different tabs of my web browser for easy reference, and the recorded documentary was paused on its most fascinating part on my bedroom television.

  The movement of my feet shook the bed. Mr. Crinkles stirred, opened his one green eye, and glared at me as if to say, Stop it, human, or I will cut you. He would, too. He could leap faster than I could move out of the way, and his claws were like little razor blades. The moment I stopped fidgeting, he closed his eye and went back to sleep. Careful not to disturb him again, I pushed myself slowly off the bed so I could burn off the excess caffeine by pacing the room.

  I’d combed through every page of the book three times, watched the documentary on the subject twice, and knew every word on each of these web pages by heart. Each and every source held some piece of information that made it impossible to deny what my heart already knew. My sister and her best friend, Marcus, truly were in the past. They were both meant to be there. And—if the book’s footnote about a marred woman, along with one very quick mention of a one-eyed black cat in the documentary was to believed—so were Mr. Crinkles and I.

  Every bit of it was absurd, but I knew in my bones it was true.

  I paced back and forth for the better part of an hour, until I heard the quiet movements of my mother in the kitchen. Knowing that I couldn’t take another day of eggs Benedict, I took a quick glance in the mirror and rumpled up the sleeves of my pajamas so it would look like I’d just rolled out of bed before I went to the kitchen to stop her. She couldn’t have looked more surprised to see me up and about.

  “Kate. Did I wake you? I thought I might run over to the gym down the street and get a short workout in, but if you’re up, I can go ahead and make you breakfast first.”

  I walked past her to the cabinet and reached inside to grab a box of cereal.

  “No need. Honestly, just something simple will be perfect this morning. Enjoy your workout.”

  There was something resembling guilt in her expression as she left, and I quickly took on the feeling myself.

  Everything that I’d learned overnight affected her, as well, and I’d done a remarkable job keeping it from her. If Laurel and I were destined to live in the past, surely she was, too. We were her world. She couldn’t bear being away from us forever. And if my mother would have to come with me, then surely David would have to, as well. Marcus’ dad was as attached to his son as our mother was to us.

  Overwhelmed and slightly dizzy from all the caffeine and sugar, I set the box of cereal down on the counter and went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. There was so much I needed to do, and I didn’t have a clue where to start. A nice, long, hot shower was in order to get me prepped and ready for the very busy day ahead.

  I needed to take care of everything as quickly as possible.

  Otherwise, I knew I’d talk myself out of it.

  *

  The shower was a disaster. The hot water helped clear my head, but doing so only made room for all of the doubts and questions my research had unearthed to come rushing to the forefront of my mind. None of it made sense. Even if somehow it was all possibly true, what was I supposed to do about it? By the time I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body, I was shaking with anxiety. The moment I stepped back into my bedroom, there was a knock at the door.

  Looking through the peephole I saw an elderly woman smiling up at the door.

  “Umm…hold on just a moment, ma’am. Let me put on some clothes.”

  Her gaze flickered to the peephole. I swear she could actually see me.

  “Ach, no need, lass. I know what a naked woman looks like. I’ve the same bits myself. Though nowadays, they’re a little softer and droopier than yers are, I reckon. Open the door. I need to speak with ye this instant, before yer mother returns.”

  Suspicion washed through me, and I found myself hoping that she was who I so desperately needed her to be.

  “Who…who are you?”

  “Lass, ye know who I am. ’Tis Morna. Open the door, please.”

  Pinching the towel closed with what
was left of my right arm, I glanced down to make sure I was covered and opened the door. She stepped inside without hesitation and had no qualms about making herself at home.

  “’Tis a lovely apartment. Ye decorated it, aye? Ye have wonderful taste.”

  “Yes, I did.” I stared after her with a sense of astonishment. I’d spent days trying to piece things together. I couldn’t believe she was here.

  “I’m sure ye are wondering why I’m here.”

  I laughed uncomfortably as I wondered if she’d read my thoughts. “Yes, though I really am pleased to see you. I have a lot of questions for you.”

  She nodded and moved to sit down on the couch. “Aye, and I’ll answer what I can. First though, do ye have any tea?”

  Nodding, I went to turn on the kettle of water and get us a couple of cups. By the time I returned to the living room, Mr. Crinkles was curled up in Morna’s lap, purring like crazy.

  “Kate, who is this handsome young man in the photo with ye and Laurel?”

  Mr. Crinkles watched me with his one green eye as I moved to sit across from Morna.

  “That would be my boyfriend, Dillon.”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at me and said nothing for a long moment. When she did speak, her tone was admonishing. “I dinna see him while watching ye. Not at all.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, I haven’t seen him in a few days. We’re supposed to go out tonight.”

  “I doona mean visibly, lass. I mean in yer heart and mind. Ye doona think of him unless someone else brings him up. There are only two reasons a woman distracts herself from thinking of her man—either she loves him too little, or too much, and she doesna wish to experience how either of those realities make her feel. Which is it?”

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew it was this sort of thing my therapist had been talking about. Thinking about Dillon made me uncomfortable. So, most of the time, I didn’t think about him. I enjoyed my time with him when we were together, but I never felt as if my life was missing anything when he wasn’t around. If Morna was right, and there were only two reasons that I would distract myself in such a way, I knew it wasn’t from loving him too much.