Page 26 of I Loved You Then (Far From Home #12)
Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself to move. She blinked hard, but they followed her out anyway, slipping free as she stepped into the gray morning air, where the yard bustled with preparations.
Across the yard, Alaric was tightening the girth on his horse while Ciaran spoke low beside him. She straightened her spine when he caught sight of her, brushing away her stupid tears.
Ciaran stopped mid-sentence. His eyes narrowed, a frown cutting across his face as he noted her tears. He broke off from Alaric without hesitation and strode toward her, his stride determined even as his limp was pronounced.
“What is it?” His voice was gruff, edged with concern.
Claire shook her head quickly, embarrassed by her crying.
She was crying over men in the sick house she could barely communicate with, strangers whose names she only half-knew.
And now—now she was faced with saying goodbye to Ciaran.
The thought had weighed on her since yesterday, when Ivy had announced Alaric’s intent to depart this morning.
Despite the kiss—and the heavy, awkward silence that had followed it—the idea of leaving him behind pressed painfully at her chest. It was ridiculous, she knew, to feel anything for him.
He was brusque, difficult, and wanted nothing to do with her.
And yet some vague, unrealistic notion whispered that they were connected, that she had known him far longer than these brief weeks, for having carried his face in her memory for years.
“I—” The words tangled, rushed. “I can’t leave.
Not yet. There’s too much work still, the sick house—Callum especially, he isn’t stable enough, not really, and if I go, no one will keep up with the dressings, or notice if the fever turns again, and—” She stopped herself, breathless, aware she was babbling.
Her heart pounded with the desperate hope that he wouldn’t refuse her.
“I can’t just leave them.” Or you. “Please,” she added, softer now, her voice catching. “May I stay?”
The set of his jaw shifted, then his mouth pressed thin, his gaze flicking away as though the sick house behind her might offer an answer.
His brows drew together, eased, then pulled tight again.
She thought she glimpsed anger, then doubt, then something softer that vanished before she could name it.
His hand flexed once against his side, the cords of his neck taut as if the decision cost him dearly.
At last he gave a single, tight nod. “Aye.”
Claire, in her real life, in that other life, maybe standing in front of Jason if he’d given such an obviously reluctant acceptance, might have meekly caved.
No, it’s probably a bad idea.
You’re right—what was I thinking?
But Claire, here and now, did not fold. The weight of responsibility she felt for those inside the sick house, Callum’s fragile breathing, all she had managed in this strange century, pressed her spine straighter.
She held Ciaran’s gaze, refusing to soften or retreat.
For once, she would not apologize for wanting something she knew was right.
“Claire?”
She turned to find Ivy staring at her, her wide-eyed expression suggesting she’d overheard Claire’s plea to Ciaran.
“Are you sure?” Ivy asked, concern etched across her face. “We’d be glad to have you at Braalach. It might be... easier?”
Claire exhaled, grimacing at Ciaran before she stepped around him, tugging Ivy gently aside, lowering her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard, already anticipating Ivy’s justified arguments against the idea.
“I know—I’m crazy, right?”
Ivy’s next dramatic expression said clearly, You think?
“Yesterday you couldn’t wait to leave,” Ivy protested. “You said it was too awkward to stay, not after what happened in the pit.”
Claire pressed her lips together, feeling shame for how easily her resolve had cracked.
“I know. I meant it at the time. But this morning, when I went into the sick house and saw Callum—saw how fragile he still is—I realized I can’t go.
I can’t walk away and leave him like that, not when I know I can help. ”
Ivy’s brows knit. “Claire...”
Claire rushed on, keeping her words hushed, desperate for Ivy to understand.
“It isn’t about Ciaran. I know how it looks, but it isn’t.
” Only partly a lie, she thought. “But the sick house—they need someone. And Callum—” her voice caught, “—he’s so young.
He’ll die, Ivy, I just know he will if I go. ”
Ivy’s gaze searched hers, troubled but soft. After a long moment, she nodded slowly. “If you’re certain.”
Claire gave a faint, watery smile. “I am.”
Ivy’s eyes filled with tears now. “But I’ll miss you.” She reached for and squeezed Claire’s hand.
Claire squeezed back, harder than she meant to, and tears fell freely now. “I’ll miss you, too.”
Ivy glanced down at Lily, swaddled heavily in cotton and wool. “Say goodbye,” she whispered with a weak smile, as if the infant might recognize Claire, or care what was going on.
Claire reached out, and Ivy carefully placed the bundle in her arms. The baby was warm, impossibly small beneath the layers, her dark lashes fluttering against pink cheeks. Claire hugged her close, breathing in the faint, sweet scent that clung to her. Another lump rose sharp in her throat.
She held on longer than she meant to, pressing her cheek gently to Lily’s. Goodbye seemed too harsh a word, and she knew she didn’t want it to be forever.
“I’ll see you again,” she whispered, more to herself than to the child.
“It won’t be forever. I want to watch you grow up, Lily.
” Her arms ached with emptiness when she finally gave the baby back to Ivy.
She forced a smile, but her eyes burned.
“I know Alaric wanted to go now, in deference to the weather,” she said.
“Maybe in the spring, I’ll be able to walk away from. ..here.”
Ivy nodded, but asked one more time, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She thought to qualify, “For now, anyway.”
“Alaric said messengers moved regularly between Caeravorn and Braalach, so you can write to me at any time,” Ivy offered, and then whispered lower, “if you need rescue.”
Alaric’s voice boomed across the yard then, announcing it was time to go.
Claire embraced Ivy, mindful of the baby between them. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”
“You, too,” Ivy cried softly. “Oh, God, I’m going to miss you so much.”
A minute later, Claire watched as the MacKinlays departed, Ivy and Lily situated on the seat of a wagon, Alaric at the helm of the party exiting the yard.
Claire stood rooted, the wind lifting her hair, watching until they disappeared beyond the bend in the road. The yard quieted again, emptied of noise and color.
She pulled her plaid tighter, exhaling slowly. She had made her choice. Whatever the reason—fate, madness, or a little bit of both—Caeravorn held her now.