Hell Transporter (Between) by Cyndi Tefft Page B

half-heartedly. Aiden had been moody and preoccupied all day. He came in from refilling the kindling hopper, his features drawn. He seemed to steel himself for something as he asked, “Will you take a walk with me?” The look on his face unnerved me, but I agreed and followed him outside.
    “Are you all right?” I asked.
    He stroked my hand but didn’t look up. “Aye. I want to show you something.”
    I followed him wordlessly through the woods and up a part of the hillside where I’d never been before. The thick underbrush scratched at my legs and he paused to pull tree branches aside so I could pass through.
    “I wish I’d my claymore with me. It would make this fair easier.”
    “A claymore?”
    A flicker of a smile crossed his face and he gripped both hands over the hilt of an invisible sword, slashing it back and forth in the air. “‘Tis a great sword, nearly as tall as a man, and it takes two hands to wield it proper. I haven’t my broadsword, either, which is smaller than a claymore but larger than a dirk.” He touched the dagger on his belt absently as if to check that it was still there. “I used a claymore against the English on the day of my death.”
    I shuddered as I remembered seeing the enemy soldier’s head fly away from his body with one swipe of Aiden’s massive blade. I was personally glad he didn’t have the sword as a physical reminder of that day, but I didn’t tell him so. He helped me step over a fallen log and assured me that it wouldn’t be much farther.
    The sound of running water burbled through the trees, but I couldn’t see the source. A whisper of a trail materialized in front of us, which made the going easier. My legs were starting to ache from the climb but I didn’t say anything. A light breeze wrapped around us on what would have been a peaceful hike, were it not for the tension coating Aiden’s stride. When we reached the path’s end, the trees gave way to a thin stream. A small covered bridge with a bench in the center was nestled in the woods, overlooking the trickle of water.
    “Wow, it’s beautiful,” I said. He took my hand and led me to the bench. “I’ve come to the cabin every summer since I was born and I’ve never seen this before.”
    “She’s a bonnie wee bridge, isn’t she?” A sparrow landed next to the water’s edge, fluffed its feathers and took a bath. Nature enveloped us in a pine-scented embrace. Resting against Aiden’s chest, I looked up under the eve of the covered bridge to find the words ‘Be Still and Know’ etched in the wood.
    “Did you do that?” I gestured to the words and he shook his head with a private smile.
    “No, but it was exactly what I needed to see when I found it. God’s very clever that way, aye?” The smile faded from his face, though and he took both of my hands in his own.
    Something was wrong and I had no idea what it could be. I knew he was stressed about the hell transporter—we both were—but this was different. Unease bit at me and my mind whirled to come up with reasons for that look on his face.
    Was he going to tell me he wasn’t coming back to Oregon with me? Was he too afraid to see me get hurt by the hell transporter? Where would he go? I couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from him again. Why would he do that to me after all that we’d been through?
    “I need to ask something of you, Lindsey and I do not want to. I have spent a great deal of time trying to find a way around it, but I cannot think of another way.”
    My eyes pleaded with him to stay but I swallowed hard and nodded for him to continue.
    “When I asked your Da for his blessing, he asked me how I was planning to provide for you. Even though I told him I’d a modest inheritance from Uncle Alex, you know I haven’t any money. And you told me at the start of the summer that I’d need papers to find a job, and I don’t have those, either. I’ve naught but a few coins in my sporran. Well, they might be worth a