And by God, he was her duty now, too.
That was the wonderful thing about dreams; they were a person’s subconscious attempt to expose a fear until it became nothing more than a mere worry. Until Dorothy had visited Oz, the young girl had thought she had a world of problems too big to overcome. But there was nothing like an incredible journey to put things in perspective.
Catherine certainly had perspective now. The last ten years of her life shriveled to nothing and changed from being a nightmare to being the gift that had given her Nathan and Nora and the determination to fight for the life she wanted.
And the courage to love Robbie MacBain.
“My God, woman, if you don’t quit looking at me like that,” Robbie growled, “I’m going to scandalize this entire village.”
Catherine smiled up at him and gently cupped his beautiful face in her hand. “Was that a threat or a promise?”
His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched so tightly she could feel his teeth grind together. “You’re killing me, little Cat.”
She patted his cheek, smiled with the confidence of a woman in love, and straightened back on her horse and looked at Ian and Gwyneth.
They were standing now, but Ian still wasn’t done hugging his wife. The tiny woman barely came up to the old warrior’s chin, but her frail arms were wrapped so tightly around his waist that her knuckles were white. The young woman with the baby was sobbing uncontrollably, using the child’s blanket to wipe her eyes. Niall finally took the baby from her and nudged her toward Ian.
“That’s Caitlin, Ian’s youngest daughter,” Robbie whispered. “He has another daughter named Megan, but she married a Maclerie and lives about twenty miles away.” He dismounted and helped Catherine down from her horse. “News will travel fast, and I expect Megan will be here in a few days.”
Finding herself in a sea of people, Catherine clung to Robbie as he led her to the cabin, and stood quietly as everyone spoke at once, in Gaelic, about only God knew what. Ian’s hands flew wildly, punctuating his speech, as everyone listened with wide eyes and occasional gasps.
Ian suddenly pulled Catherine into the center of his gaping family. He spoke rapidly, his words spitting on her several times, his hand waving about her head.
Robbie finally rescued her and whispered in her ear. “Ian is telling them how you helped him escape from the English,” he said. “He’s making you into quite a hero.”
It was Catherine’s turn to gasp. “But I don’t want to be a hero.You’re the one who brought Ian back to his family, not me. You should get the credit. Tell them,” she said, stepping closer when someone reached out and touched her hair. “Tell them it was you, not me.”
“Nay, Cat. It’s better if I remain anonymous here.”
“But I want to be anonymous, too,” she squeaked, scooting to the other side of him when somebody touched her arm.
Robbie pulled her into the cabin, and Catherine blinked at the sudden darkness as he led her to a stool. She lifted her stick off her back, laid it on the floor, and sat down with a sigh of relief. “What happens now?” she asked, looking at his silhouette against the doorway.
“Now you stay here with Ian and Gwyneth, and I go look for Cùram’s tree.”
She jumped up from the stool. “But I want to go with you.”
“Nay, Catherine, it’s too dangerous.” He took hold of her shoulders. “If you want me to stop coming here, you’ll have to let me finish this. Just as soon as I get the root, we’ll leave.”
“But I can help.”
“How?”
“By… I can… oh, I don’t know,” she said, stepping back to cross her arms under her breasts. “I can at least make sure you don’t get beat up or killed.”
He stepped forward and took hold of her shoulders again. “You can’t even speak the language. And I need you to keep an eye on Ian. It’s going to take him time to readjust.”
She grabbed the front of his plaid. “Do you even know what you’re looking for? Or where?”
“Mary thinks she’s found Cùram’s lair. And I’m guessing his tree will be nearby. I’ll head out first thing in the morning.” His hands on her shoulders tightened. “And you will wait here.”
Ian walked into the hut with his arm wrapped around Gwyneth and Caitlin’s arm wrapped around him. Niall followed, carrying the baby and towing the little girl by the hand. Catherine moved away from Robbie, picked up her stool, carried it to the corner, and sat down out of the way. Not that it did her any good. Caitlin and Gwyneth rushed over, took her by the hands, and led her behind a blanket hanging from the ceiling that was hiding a tiny cot.
Catherine didn’t have a clue what they were saying to her, but before she knew what was happening, they had her stripped naked and started redressing her in beautiful, colorful clothes that Gwyneth pulled from a trunk at the foot of the bed.
From that point on, she had no time to dwell on Robbie’s dictate or what she intended to do about it or even what in heck she was eating. The entire village came by in groups of two to ten people at a time to welcome Ian home. Everyone brought food, and Catherine was urged to try some of this and some of that. By nightfall, she was stifling yawns and starting to feel sick to her stomach.
Again, her guardian angel rescued her by taking her for a walk through the village and up past the keep in the bright spring moonlight. But instead of bringing her back to Ian once her stomach settled down, he took her inside the huge granite castle through a door big enough to fit the Jolly Green Giant.
“Niall lives here now,” he told her as he led her into a massive, high-ceilinged, sparsely furnished great room, past several gawking people, and up a narrow staircase. “He’s offered us a room for as long as we need it.”
Catherine stopped walking. “Us?”
Robbie pulled her forward again, down the narrow hall. “You’re dreaming all this, remember?”
He opened a small wooden door and led her into a dark, chilly room, let go of her wrist, walked to a huge hearth, and crouched down and started a fire. Catherine didn’t watch to seehow he started it but stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking around in the stingy firelight.
She spotted a bed against one wall, that was quite small by modern standards but quite big compared with the one in Caitlin’s home. There was a trunk at the end of it and woven cloths and a tapestry hanging from the walls. She could see a narrow window at one end, with what looked like a sheepskin hanging over it, swagged to the side.
“It’ll warm up soon,” Robbie said, walking back to her, taking her hand, and leading her to the bed. “And there’s plenty of blankets,” he continued. “Although you might want to shake out the bedbugs and sleep by the fire.”
He sat down on the bed and pulled her between his knees, locking his hands behind her back and looking her level in the eyes. “Caitlin’s home is full,” he told her. “And you’ll be safe here in the keep for tonight. Tomorrow, Ian and Gwyneth will move back to their old hut, and you can stay with them once they get settled.” He unlocked his hands and spanned them around her waist. “Are you brave enough to stay here alone tonight, Cat?”
“Wh-Where will you be?”
He shook his head. “I can’t stay with you. We’d find ourselves standing in front of a priest tomorrow morning if I did, with the entire village witnessing our wedding.”
“What?”
“It’s 1210, Catherine. Men and women who share beds had better be married or willing to face the consequences. Remember the warrior who found you by the stream? He wouldn’t have touched you until after you’d stood before a priest. A woman’s reputation is all she has to bring to her husband.” His smiled slashed white in the firelight. “That and maybe a good dowry of a horse and some sheep and, if a guy’s lucky, a milk cow as well.”