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26 - KAITLYN

Ilooked back at Tyler. “You warm enough?”

“Yeah, thanks for the wool socks that helped.”

We could see our breaths. Frost covered the trees. We passed below a ridge of snow-covered mountains, our horses picking a path that had frost-covered mud banks to both sides.

Tyler asked Magnus a few questions about the mountain ridge and the trees we were passing under. Magnus answered his questions curtly, his body tense, his back stiffening. I tucked my face to his tartan and squeezed.

I didn’t know 100% what he was so worried about with Tyler. He had never been jealous for one minute with James. He had restrained himself with Braden. He usually trusted me, completely. But his concern over Tyler interfering in our lives was new, unexpected, and it should have bothered me — jealous husband wasn’t something I wanted, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong. Tyler had been overly familiar since I met him. And I didn’t want to tell Magnus this, but I was worried about Tyler’s motivations too.

Because in all this time since we arrived here, he hadn’t really asked any big questions as if this was normal. Or expected. So I was in complete agreement with Magnus — Tyler wasn’t to be trusted.

Our only disagreement was that I also thought we needed to trust him. We could use his help.

But Magnus had to be on guard and I needed to accept it.

Magnus had suspicions and I trusted him, that was the thing. His suspicions were mine, too.

I asked, “Where are we going, how far?”

“Not too far, there is a village, a tavern I am headed tae.”

“I can’t feel my toes. It’s so cold.”

Later we pulled our horses up in front of a two-story stone building in a village farther along the River Tay. Magnus dropped to the ground and held his arms up for me. I landed on the ground with a groan. My legs would not go straight. I was stiff and my hips ached. Plus my thighs. Magnus tied off the horses and led us inside. It was warm and dark, just a couple of small lanterns. A crackling fire at one end. Six tables and some chairs. So dark. I could barely see the shifting forms of people near what looked to be where the drinks were served. At one of the other tables a couple of men looked bleary-eyed and leering.

Magnus spoke with the man at the bar and came to me with a whisky. “I will be back in a moment, stay here, daena talk tae anyone. Tis ruffians about but I have tae get the horses tae the stable. The owner is watchin’ over ye.”

“Okay, sure.” I was happy to have a whisky that would go a long way to warming me up.

Magnus grunted at Tyler, “Come with me, we have tae see tae the horses.”

Tyler glanced at me, around at the room, then followed Magnus out the door.

I swigged from the whisky. It was smooth and warm and filled me with strength. We were good. Unfound. Now we were rescuing Quentin, it was all part of the plan.

Sitting and waiting in the 18th century was so bizarre. Like what I imagined a sensory deprivation tank to be like. My sight was barely working. Darkness closed in all around the edges, I had to squint and concentrate to make out the details. My hearing was muffled, except my internal body sounds: they were too loud. I put both hands on the whisky glass and concentrated on it. The table top. Waiting for when Magnus would return. Wondering briefly how I would manage without him.

Finally they did return and I was relieved again that I wouldn’t have to deal with being alone here. Because I had already dealt with that once before. To punctuate the precarious position I had been in, one of the men leaned in, his head wobbling, spittle flying from his lips, “What a bonny lass issshee — want tae sssshhhh — ye doin’ ashhsum⁠—”

Magnus brought his whisky to the table. “Would ye speak tae your own wife with such a smooth tongue? Or are ye merely practicin’ with my wife? I canna say tis improvin’ ye, and I ken tis makin’ my wife quite damp from the spittle and your want of mastery on it.”

The man’s head wobbled quite comically. He muttered something then passed out with his head on his arms.

Magnus sat down with a laugh. “Tis a quiet night at the tavern. I suppose the weather has kept the regulars away tonight.”

Tyler blew on his fingers. “I can’t get the heat in them. This is like New York City.”

Suddenly the front door blew open and Uncle Baldie, Quentin, and Liam, Lizbeth’s husband, blew through with big voices and boisterous slams and thuds.

Magnus jumped up so fast he tipped his chair, not a hard feat, the legs barely matched and my chair was rocking on three long legs and a short.

Magnus hugged his uncle Baldie and his brother-in-law Liam, and then he and Quentin were hugging and beating each other’s backs. Magnus said, “Ye are half the man ye once were!”

Quentin laughed, “Peril and Starvation have knocked about thirty pounds off me.” He turned left and right. “I’m on the Medieval Diet plan.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’s not medieval times, I keep telling you, plus...” I came around the table and threw my arms around him. “I don’t think you look that bad, what are you, forty-three now?”