“You mean that on the summer solstice, your father and uncles will just disappear?”
“Aye. Their lives will be uprooted again.” He lifted her chin to look up at him, wishing he could read her expression. “Are you starting to believe me now, little Cat?”
“No.”
“No? Then how do you explain what’s just happened?”
“I’m dreaming. Just like Dorothy inThe Wizard of Oz, I was hit on the head during the storm and knocked unconscious, and I’m dreaming.”
Robbie gave her a firm kiss on the mouth. “Ah, Catherine,” he said, tucking her against his chest. “Now I’m understanding why you’re being so calm.” He leaned down and tried to see into her eyes, using his thumb to lift her chin. “But what if it’s not a dream?
What if all of this is really happening?”
“It’s not,” she said, reaching up and feathering her fingers over his smile. “Because it’s impossible.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “So will you allow me to be your guide through this dream? Will you promise to listen to me when I tell you to do something?”
“It’s my dream,” she said, turning rigid in his embrace. “You can’t boss me around.”
“Catherine, you’re dreaming that we’re in the thirteenth century, when women had little or no say in their lives. If you wish to survive here, you’ll have to defer to me. Especially in front of others,” he added.
“No. I promisedmyself never to be in that position again.”
Robbie pulled her back against him with a weary sigh. How in hell was he going to protect her if she wouldn’t cooperate? How could he make her understand?
Ian came back and dropped his load of firewood, then sat down beside them with an even wearier sigh of his own. “I’m old,” he muttered. “And my eyesight is gone. I can’t tell what I was picking up for wood. Hell,” he said, waving at the pile of sticks. “There could be a snake in there for all I know.”
Robbie set Catherine back beside him and used a piece of the wood to scrape out a fire pit. He then started arranging the damp sticks in the middle of it.
“Matches weren’t invented in the thirteenth century,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaning closer to watch him. “How are you going to start the fire?”
“With magic.”
Ian sucked in his breath and leaned away. “Ya can do that? Just like the priest?” he whispered, sidling farther away.
“Aye, Uncle. I’ve recently discovered I can do a lot of neat tricks.”
“Like what?” Ian asked, moving a few more inches away.
“Like this,” he said, reaching his hand into the center of the pile and coaxing the wood to release its stored energy. He leaned over and softly blew on the smoking sticks until they burst into flames.
Ian stood up and moved a good distance away. Robbie chuckled and also stood up. “It’s okay, Uncle. I’m still the nephew you used to carry on your shoulders. That I’ve finally realized the full extent of my calling is to your benefit,” he said, reaching out and laying a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “It’s how you got here,” he softly reminded him.
The flames from the now dancing fire reflected in Ian’s hazel eyes as the old man stared back at him. “I… I’m just surprised, is all,” he whispered, suddenly wrapping Robbie in a fierce embrace. “Aye. Ya’re still my young pup,” he said gruffly, pounding Robbie’s back before stepping away and swiping at his eyes. “I hate being old,” he muttered, walking to the edge of the clearing. “It’s a terrible affliction. The air is always making my eyes water. I’m going to look for more wood.”
Robbie watched him disappear into the night forest and turned back to the fire, only to find Catherine staring at him, her jaw slack.
“You’re dreaming, remember?” he said, sitting down beside her again. “Now, how about I show you how to wear a plaid properly?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “As cute as you look, you’re going to be laughed out of the village tomorrow if you walk in dressed like that.”
“Ian’s not coming back to modern time with us, is he?” she whispered. “You… you brought him back here to die.”
“Nay, Catherine. I brought him here because he asked me to, and because he wants to be with his wife and children and grandbabies. He’s got many good years in him yet and should spend them in the bosom of his family.”
“Do the others know he’s here? Your father and Greylen?”
“I’ll tell them once I get back.”
“He… he didn’t even say good-bye to them?”
“He did. They just didn’t know it. They’ll be happy for Ian, once they think about it.”
“Do they want to come back, too?”
“Nay. Their wives and children and grandbabies are in Pine Creek, and they’ve lived with the fear of being torn from them for the last thirty-five years. That’s why it’s so important I bring back the spells for Daar to stop it.”
“Why can’t Daar get his own spells, if he’s a wizard?”
Robbie shook his head. “There’s anotherdrùidh here, named Cùram de Gairn, who doesn’t want that to happen. He’s younger and more powerful than Daar. That’s why the priest sent me.”
Her eyes clouded with worry in the dancing firelight. “Is he more powerful than you?”
she whispered, leaning closer and clutching the front of his plaid in her fists. “Is he the one who keeps beating you up?”
Robbie laughed and pulled her hands up to his mouth and kissed them. “Nay, little Cat.
Cùram is keeping himself and his tree of spells hidden from me.”
“A tree? I thought spells came from a book or something?”
“Tradition thinks of it as a book, I guess, but it’s really a tree of wisdom. Alldrùidhs have one that they guard and nurture. I’m looking for Cùram’s tree, so that I can steal a piece of its tap root.”
She pulled away, wrapped her arms around her knees again, and silently stared into the fire for several minutes, obviously trying to understand what he was telling her. She looked at him again. “So, if you get this piece of root, you won’t have to keep coming back here?”
“Aye. Daar will use it to grow his own tree of wisdom and cast a new spell to keep the Highlanders in modern time.”
She stood up, her fists clenched at her sides as if she were expecting a fight. “Then I’ll help you. We’ll find this Cùram de… this wizard guy and his tree and steal the root so you won’t ever have to come back.”
Robbie also stood, the tips of his bare toes touching hers.
She didn’t back away but only smiled up at him.
“You can’t help me, Cat. This isn’t a treasure hunt but a dangerous quest. Cùram is dangerous.” He waved at the landscape around them. “Hell, this whole world is dangerous for a woman.”
She snorted, lifting her chin. “It’s apparently dangerous for guardians, too.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, leaned back on her hips, and angled her head at him. “Do your magical powers make you infallible?”
“What? Nay, of course not. I’m a mortal man.”
“Then who watches your back?”
Robbie rubbed a hand over his face. “Haven’t we had this conversation before? I don’t need anyone watching my back.I’m the guardian here,” he growled, thumping his chest.
“It’s my dream,” she growled right back, thumping her own chest. “And I can give myself whatever powers I want. And I think I’ll beyour guardian angel.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “Lord knows you need one.”
Robbie couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss that sassy smile off her face or shake some sense into her.
“I’m thinking we should say Catherine helped me escape from the English,” Ian said, walking back with an armful of sticks. He dropped them by the fire and turned to Robbie, his eyes shining with excitement. “And I brung her home to reward her. She can stay with Gwyneth and me until ya have to go back. That way, I can keep an eye on her while ya do your business.”