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There wasn’t judgment in her question, but maybe a little excitement. I nodded. “My husband’s,” I said, answering her unasked questions.
The word had tumbled off my tongue, and I wasn’t sure if that was true. My human side rationalized that I’d had sex with Duncan a couple of years before we’d technically been married. But my time walker side theorized that regardless of the human time line, the order in which I experienced the events was my truth. Which meant I’d had sex with Duncan after I’d married him, even if he didn’t know it. I would never see our child as a bastard, which those in the 1600s would label him.
What I knew for sure was I couldn’t see Duncan until after Cin was born. Because in that little hut, I’d put it together that Cin was mine.
I lifted my wrist and showed her the mark. “Do you know what this is?” She shook her head. “It’s half of a fated mark. The other half is on Duncan, and it binds us together as soul mates. I’m his and he’s mine. Though we did get married in the 1600s, I can’t say for sure it is legally binding now.” I laughed, but it was bitter.
“Do you love him?” she asked.
“I can say yes and feel certain of that. But how do I know for sure as he seems to think that the feelings we have for one another are only because of the mark.” I shrugged. I didn’t mention that I’d given him my virginity because she could piece that together herself. “How did you know to send me to him? Duncan, that is. Do you know what he is?”
“Fabian. I told you about him. He was a believer in the supernatural and he saw me, unlike the rest. I shared with him my worries about you. He told me of a fallen angel, one who was cast out not because he was bad, but because he chose to protect a human boy. That’s why I told you Duncan’s story.” She smiled. “Even when you were younger, you loved to hear it over and over again. I worried because of Michael, but Fabian assured me that where you needed to be was with Duncan. Now I wonder if Fabian knew more than what he told me. He said his mother had the gift of sight while she was alive. When he died all those years ago, and he stayed on this plane, I wonder what he got himself into.”
“He got me to Scotland. But then it was like something clawed him back. He made a vague mention of a reckoning he’d have for all he’d done. That was it. I think he had a good heart.”
Mom nodded.
“As much as I want you with me, I don’t think it’s fair. I kept you here all these years. Now I know how to send you through,” I repeated, tears streaming down my face.
“I won’t leave you. You’ll need help when the baby is to be born.”
That was true. I couldn’t go to a hospital. Cin couldn’t be exposed to this time. I wasn’t sure how much supernatural babies would remember. Duncan mentioned that language wasn’t learned—from their very existence, they knew it. I knew that Michael was of the same order as Duncan. He wouldn’t confirm they were angels, but that was what I suspected. So Cin was more supernatural than human, more supernatural than even I was. I would have to keep him here in this house for a couple of years after his birth before we returned to his time.
It hurt my heart to know I would only have a few years with my son before I had to give him up to his father. Then, when we met, I wouldn’t know him.
There were a lot of tears for the first few days as I reconciled my past with the present. Not being able to go to Duncan and tell him the truth was killing me. Not being able to see him at all was the worst. One night, several days later, I sat in the back room as a fire burned in the hearth. Dad used to love it here. He’d sit in his chair, me on his lap, and tell me stories about when he was a child.
Now with those memories clearer in my head, I could remember how the furniture was different. Simpler and built to last. I would wonder later where all of it went. And then there were the sounds. How different they were outside then, filled with carriages pulled by horses over cobblestone streets and not with the sounds of cars as it was today.
Tonight, I found myself missing my dad more than ever. Finally, I asked Mom the question I was now strong enough to hear. “How did you meet Michael?” I couldn’t call him Father. There was a wonderful man who had shown my mother and I so much kindness who I called Father.
