Page 47

Had he committed a crime?

“I didn’t,” she said. “But I was set up for one. Someone made it look as though I murdered a man.”

His face lost the calm, attentive expression and went blank. Amber’s chest squeezed, and her limbs chilled. That was it. He’d never look at her in the same way again.

“So yer police think ye murdered someone and are looking for ye to punish ye?”

“Yes. Under martial law, I can get a lifetime in prison, or”—her throat spasmed, and she swallowed—“a death sentence. And there’s no way I can prove I didn’t do it. I wanted to try. I did want to, but I was so terrified, paralyzed. The man who framed me, Major Jackson, he’s too powerful. I’ll lose.”

Owen covered her hand that lay on the pillow with his own. His palm was a little callused and warm. The touch reassured her and melted the icy tension in her chest.

“Tell me everything, lass.”

Amber’s mind flooded with memories.

“De Bourgh reminds me of Major Jackson.”

Owen’s green eyes held an undertone of steel, and his expression grew hard. He pressed his lips into a thin line and didn’t say anything.

“Not with how he looks,” Amber said. “But there’s this dead coldness about him, this determination to achieve things no matter what. Jackson’s smart. And he made my blood chill.”

Where de Bourgh was short and bald, Jackson was tall and had a full head of dark hair. He talked loudly and had a wide, charming smile. But underneath that, she’d seen unmistakable cruelty. People were terrified of him, and his willingness to put the lives of local civilians at risk made her ill.

“Strangely, he was the one who allowed me to stay home for a couple of months when my dad died. I didn’t expect him to be so compassionate.”

“Yer da died?”

“Yeah. Heart attack.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, lass.”

He didn’t look confused. “Do you know what a heart attack is?”

“Nae. But I can get the idea from the name.”

“The funeral two years ago was the last time I saw my brothers. We used to see each other on Christmas and Thanksgiving every year, at our parents’ house. My mom died several years ago, and to be honest, I think my dad gave up on life then. After both our parents were gone, it was as though we didn’t have a reason to come together anymore. So I spent the last two years in Afghanistan. That was when I got together with Bryan.”

Owen’s face tensed.

“What exactly do ye mean by ‘got together’? Doesna sound like he marrit ye.”

“In the future, we’re much more liberal about relationships. He was my boyfriend.”

“Yer lover?”

“Yes, but more than that. We spent time together, went on dates, and so on.” She chuckled. “As much as you can go on dates in the middle of a desert.”

“What are dates?”

“Meeting and spending a nice time together. Going to a restaurant—an inn, I mean, with good food—drinking wine, talking. In your time, I suppose you’d go for a ride with a lady, or for a walk… Bryan and I were together, you know. He was my man, and I was his woman—without being married. That’s normal in the future. People don’t have to get married to have children and build a life together.”

“Sounds like I’d enjoy the future.” Owen chuckled.

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“Nae.” There was something sad and almost bitter flicking on his face. “Marriage isna for me.”

Long ago, Amber had assumed she’d get married one day. She’d wanted a family. She’d always thought after the wedding she’d retire from the army and do something else until she got pregnant.