Part 35 (2/2)
But he smiled. ”The Sinclairs are such a n.o.ble breed. Where would the world be without them? It seems I have only to thank you for your devoted care. I couldn't have survived without it, let alone ordered my own life, which you tell me shouldn't have continued beyond that day in the jungle.” He snorted. ”How heavy a responsibility I must have been for you, Mac. You sacrificed even yourself in the pursuit of it. My apologies.”
She curled her fingers around the arms of the chair until her knuckles hurt. ”It wasn't a sacrifice, Liam,” she whispered.
”You did get some pleasure out of oura friends.h.i.+p,” he said. ”A pity I'm flat on my back, or we could give it a go one last time. For old times' sake, eh, Mac?”
They stared at each other. Liam's breathing was ragged. She stood, pus.h.i.+ng the chair back. ”You need to rest now, Liam. I'ma sorrya””
”You gave me my life. I told you I always pay my debts. Have I paid this one sufficiently, Mac?”
”More thana sufficiently.”
”I'm relieved to hear it. I wouldn't want to leave anything undone. I'll be going out of town as soon as I can get out of this b.l.o.o.d.y bed.”
It didn't matter that she was going away herself; his announcement made her blood ice over like water in the Arctic. ”You're leaving?”
”The tongs have made San Francisco too hot for Chen and his niece. I can't be sure of protecting them any longer. But I have property in Napa, and I'm taking Chen to look it over.”
”You're giving them a new place to live?”
”Land that's lying fallow. Maybe they can make use of it.”
”That's very kind of you.” She meant it with all her heart.
”I'm the very soul of kindness.”
”What will you doa after that?”
His muscles tensed under their bandages and covering of sheets and blankets. ”Sooner or later you'll have to give up your position as my guardian angel, Mac,” he said. ”It might as well be now.” He turned his head away, dismissing her. ”Do me one last service when you go downstairs and ask Chen to bring me a whiskey. My happiness will be complete.”
There was nothing more to be said. He shut her out completely, as once he'd rejected her in a tent in the steaming jungles of the Petn. Mac fled, trying desperately not to think or feel. She realized halfway down the stairs that Norton had remained at her side, as if sensing her distress; she buried her fingers in the wiry fur of his back as if it were a lifeline to sanity.
Sanity was what she needed now. Sanity to carry out the very practical steps she needed to get home. Talk to Perry, get his pendant from him, arrange transportation back to Guatemala.
Mac touched her jacket over the place where Liam's pendant rested between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The stone was always cold, not warm as hers had been in the jungle, just before the tunnel through time had sucked her through.
If things went as she hoped, the pendant would warm again when she walked back into the tunnel. Once she had Perry's pendant, she'd have the tools she needed to make it work. If Fernando had told the truth. If the pendants were what had made the tunnel function. If it took her back to her own time.
It had to. Once she left San Francisco for Guatemala, she couldn't look back. On the other side from Liam O'Shea she might have some hope of forgetting.
Anything rather than stay here one instant longer than necessary.
Norton trotted along beside her as she walked into the library where she'd left Perry and Caroline. Caroline was gone; Perry was absorbed in a book, a gla.s.s of b.u.t.terscotch-colored liquid in one hand. He set down his drink as she entered.
”Rose,” he said. ”Whata””
He jumped up and caught her by the arms as she lost her balance, leading her to the heavy high-backed chair nearest the fireplace. ”Are you ill?”
”No.” Good grief, what a time to learn to swoon in grand old Victorian fas.h.i.+on. ”I'm fine, really.”
”Indeed?” He hovered over her until she convinced him by sitting up and meeting his eyes.
Dark Sinclair eyes. Not the eyes of a killer. That at least was resolved. Homer could rest in peace.
”Yes,” she a.s.sured Homer's grandfather, smiling wryly. ”Let's just say it's been a very interesting day. I know it's a little early for a nightcap, but whatever you're drinking, I wouldn't mind having a sip of it myself.”
He was long past any surprise at her bluntness. He walked to a sideboard laden with gla.s.ses and bottles, poured her a small measure of amber liquid, and refilled his own gla.s.s.
”Thank you.” She took the gla.s.s, sniffed it, wrinkled her nose, and took a sip. When her fit of coughing had subsided, she cradled the gla.s.s between her hands, resolved not to try again but needing something to hold on to.
”It's just not the same as a Dr Pepper,” she said. ”I have something to tell you. And something to ask.” She glanced around the room. ”Is Caroline all right?”
”She's in the guest bedroom with Mei Ling.” Perry settled back in his chair, crossing his legs. ”She's found a cause of her own.”
”I have a feeling that she'll be good at whatever she decides to do with her life. And youa”You'll let her make those decisions, won't you?”
He laid his hand over his heart. ”Your concern for Caroline touches me.” There was not irony but warmth in his tone. ”I swear to you that Caroline will have all the freedom I can grant her once we're married.”
Mac rubbed her foot along an intricate pattern in the carpet with great concentration. ”You've talked to Liam.”
”There seems hope for a renewal of our friends.h.i.+p,” he said. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a watch. A silver watch, battered and dented, that Mac recognized at once. ”He insisted I take this back.”
The lump that hadn't left her throat for the past several hours made it difficult to speak. ”I'm so glad. Ia wish I had time to get to know you and Caroline better. I wish I could stick around for your wedding, just to see it all through to the end.”
He stilled with his gla.s.s to his lips. ”Are you leaving us?”
”Yes. I have to.”
”Why?”
”I'vea come to see that I don't belong here,” she said. ”This is not my world, Perry. It never was. I can't tell you more than that.”
Perry got up and strode to the sideboard. ”It's Liam, isn't it? He blames you for all that's happened. The fool. I'll speak to hima””
”No. Please. There's nothing you can do.”
His gaze was fixed on the row of bottles and gla.s.ses. ”Then I was wrong to believe you loved him.”
So smooth and aristocratic, his voice, and so devastating his words.
”I told you it wasn't something I can explain.”
He muttered something about d.a.m.nable pride and idiocy. ”I see. And what will become of Liam?”
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