Love Across Time by B. J. McMinn Read Free Book Online Page B

prodded, but be short lived.”
    “Apology accepted.”
    He watched in fascination as her pearly-white teeth gnawed her lower lip. Her flare of temper from a few moments earlier had passed, but she appeared perplexed on what to say next.
    “If ye wish to finish our talk, we can start anew.” He gave her a nod of encouragement then frowned. “Just nae mention a mon’s name.” Margaret’s virtue had been well protected, but the sting of an unfaithful lass, years ago, still had the power to fire the jealousy that burned low in his gut.
    “Well...uh.... Where did you say I am?” She didn’t attempt to rise, but lay motionless in the bed, the covers held in a tight grip.
    “Castle Menzies. Ye be Margaret Menzies, me wife.”
    Color seeped from her face at the word wife.
    “Dinnae swoon again.”
    “No, I will not,” she promised, her eyes as round as one of Elizabeth’s fancy English teacups. “I cannot be in Scotland.”
    Her luscious bottom lip trembled, making him want to still the slight quiver with his mouth. He dropped the cloth back into the water and moved to sit in the chair, hoping to make her feel more at ease. A sigh of what he supposed was relief escaped her.
    “Go ahead lass, speak.” He cringed. Never glib of tongue, he hoped she didn’t think he spoke as if he were commanding a dog. She had often teased him over his lack of the use of flattery.
    “I need ye to tell me if ye remember anything from the night ye fell. Did someone push ye? If so, do ye ken who it be?”
    “I do not know anything about what you refer to. I only know my name is Maggie, short for Margaret. A car accident in Tulsa, Oklahoma left me with amnesia...ah with no memory,” she clarified.
    She tugged her hair back to expose the wound that had taken seven of Ursula’s fine stitches to close. He’d seen the scar every time he bathed her forehead for a sennight during the worst of her fever. With Ursula’s help, he had nursed her for two months. Each day that she slept so soundly, his fear had grown.
    “If you call Col...uh...your friend, I am sure he will tell you Abby never meant for the joke to go this far.”
    The woman talked gibberish. A what accident? Tulsa, where? And who in the bloody hell was the man she kept blabbering about. He had never heard her speak of an Abby, either.
    In battle, he’d seen men who had received head injuries that had only raised a wee bump on their hard heads, yet were senseless when they awoke. Some couldn’t remember the battle or even their names. Others never woke at all, but had wasted away until death finally claimed them. Could this be what Margaret suffered from? Why she didn’t remember him or where she lived? At first, he thought her confused by her long sleep, but with each word she spoke, it became clear the problem was more serious.
    He gazed at her. Her slim body, nestled under the covers, trembled. Fingers held the edge of the blanket so tight her knuckles had turned white. Eyes round, lips parted, she waited for him to admit someone named Abby had played a cruel joke on her. Unless she referred to her family’s nanny Annabelle, as Abby, he didn’t know anyone by that name.
    His heart felt as heavy as the Stone of Destiny. It had been seven weeks and the hope that Margaret would awaken had shriveled within him. He’d prayed God would reward his efforts, and He had, but.... Liam shook his head. Now this.
    By the earnest expression on her face, he didn’t doubt she believed her words. His fingers scraped the hair back from his face. How to convince Margaret she belonged here, with him, in his arms, and in his bed.
    “Come.” Before she could refuse, he scooped her up and cradled her like a babe.
    “What are you doing?” she squeaked. “I can walk.”
    “Nae, ye havenae tested yer broken leg to make sure ’tis completely healed.”
    With the blanket secure around her, he carried her to the window. If she could look out at the green fields she’d called a wondrous