“I—I can’t!” she cried, looking up. “Don’t you get it?” She angrily waved at the bed between them. “I can’t even make love to a man in my dreams without panicking!”
“But you can handle a hug,” he whispered. “Especially from someone you think you might love.”
“That was a mistake. I was just overwhelmed by what you did for Ian.”
“I can’t come to you, Catherine,” he said, widening his arms. “You must come to me.”
It took her an interminable measure of time to realize that he wasn’t leaving until she did. With her hands fisted and her tear-soaked eyes glaring at him, she finally marched over until her toes were nearly touching his.
“Hug me,” he whispered, having a moment’s hope that she might hit him instead.
She made a noise that sounded much like a kitten’s growl, reached her arms around his waist and hugged him fiercely and quickly. Then she tried to step back.
Robbie wrapped his arms around her and held her in place, using his chin to tuck her head against his chest. “Aye,” he said, sighing with relief. “You might not know if there’
s love between us, Catherine, but you can’t deny there’s trust.”
She slowly relaxed against him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She leaned her head back and looked up, her eyes swimming with turmoil. “I was doing okay until you… until I felt your weight pinning me… ” She buried her face in his chest.
“Daniels didn’t just beat you, did he?”
She said nothing, only shook her head against his plaid.
Robbie closed his eyes and clenched his teeth on his raging desire to kill Daniels. Now was not the time for anger. But the day would come when he would take the bastard by the throat and squeeze the life out of his soulless body. Robbie vowed to be smiling while he did.
He gently kissed the top of Catherine’s head, leaving his mouth to linger as he brushed her hair with his hand. He could feel her heart racing as she clutched the back of his plaid and her tears dampened the front of it. “Hush, little one, it’s going to be okay,” he promised. “You’ve fallen in love with a very patient man.”
Catherine muttered something Robbie couldn’t make out and sagged against him. He swept a hand under her knees and carried her to a chair by the fire, and sat down with her in his lap, then lifted her chin so she could see his smile. He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You must not dwell on what just happened, Cat. It’s of no consequence to us.”
“Of no… you’re saying that… I had a panic attack,” she finally said. “I was kissing you one minute and hitting you the next.”
“Aye, I noticed that.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb again. “I also noticed that you survived and walked right back into my arms when it was over.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder with a lingering sob. “I want to do it,” she whispered, staring into the darkness. “But I can’t.” She tilted her head just enough to look at him. “I might never be able to have a normal relationship with a man.”
He tapped her upturned nose. “Aye, you will. With this man,” he said, lifting her hand and holding it over his heart. “When you’re done thinking you might love me and are knowing it instead, your only thoughts will be of me.”
“Th-That’s an arrogant statement.”
“But a true one.” He cupped her face, gently kissed her gaping mouth, then smiled at her. “We have the rest of our lives, Catherine. We’ll eventually figure it out.”
She looked down at her hand on his chest, still covered with his. “Maybe that’s why I’m having this dream, to figure out that I shouldn’t want you.” She looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears again. “When you kissed me in the barn and in the kitchen, I thought… I hoped that I… I thought I was okay. But tonight,” she said, pulling her hand away and gesturing toward the bed. “I finally realized that I’m not. This dream is trying to show me that I can’t hope to get involved with you. That I can’t want you.”
“You think dreams are our way of working things out?”
“Yes. They’re how we deal with our problems.”
“And you consider me a problem?”
“No. I’m my problem,” she said, touching her own chest. “I’m too scared to let go of my fear.”
He nodded. “So, because you fear men, you intend simply to avoid them.”
“That’s a perfectly good solution.” She lifted her chin. “A woman doesn’t need a man to have a full life.”
“Aye,” he agreed, standing up and setting her on her feet, then tilting her chin to face him. “But what happens if she falls in love, only her fear keeps her from following her heart? Can her life still be full?”
“Of course not.”
He kissed the tip of her upturned nose. “Then that’s what your dream is telling you, Cat.
When you wake up in modern time, you’ll have learned to let your heart rule instead of your fears. And the rest will take care of itself.”
“Just like that,” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts and glaring at him.
“Aye, Catherine. If you want something—anything—badly enough, there is no power on earth that can keep you from it. And that,” he said, leaning down and smiling, “is the true definition of magic.”
Catherine leaned in even closer, either to kiss him or to give him a scathing reply, but Mary suddenly glided through the window with a piercing shrill. She landed on the bed, wrapped her talons around the hilt of Robbie’s sword, and let out an angry chatter of rattles.
Catherine stepped away from him with a gasp, her hand flying to her chest as she looked first at Mary, then at him.
Robbie studied Catherine and considered her reaction to Mary’s arrival. It had to be the owl’s loud and sudden appearance upsetting her and not what Mary was saying—
because Robbie knew he was the only one his pet spoke to.
He walked over to the bed and brushed Mary off his sword so he could pick it up and settle it over his back. He turned to Catherine, who was still clutching her throat and still gaping at Mary. She slowly raised her worried eyes to his, then suddenly ran to the door and stood in front of it, her hands spread to stop him from opening it.
“You’re not leaving,” she said. “I don’t care if they make us get married in the morning, you are not leaving this room.”
He walked over, took hold of her shoulders, pulled her against him, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. “Aye, how I wish I could stay for our wedding,” he whispered once he was done. “But I have to go, Catherine. Mary has new information.”
She balled the front of his plaid in her fists. “Then take me with you. I can run fast—you know I can. I won’t be in your way. I can help, because Cùram won’t think I’m a threat.”
“I didn’t mention Cùram,” he said. “Why do you?”
“Because that’s where you’re going, isn’t it? After Cùram and his tree?” Her grip on his plaid tightened, and she tried to shake him into complying. “Take me with you!”
“Nay, Cat,” he said, leaning down and kissing her again, lifting her off her feet and turning so that she was away from the door before he set her back down. He broke the kiss, opened the door, and stepped out, then quickly closed it and threw the bolt, locking her in.
“No!” she shouted, banging her fist on the door. “Dammit, don’t you dare lock me in here!”
He leaned his forehead on the wood and smiled. “Aye, Cat,” he said loudly enough that she could hear him. “I can handle your anger. I’ll be back soon enough, and you can spend the rest of your dream giving me hell.” He lifted his hand and laid it on the door, right where she pounded on the opposite side. “Sleep well, little Cat,” he whispered when she suddenly went silent, only to wince when he heard Mary squawk and flap a hasty retreat out the window.
He turned and quietly walked away, his smile broadening when something hit the door with enough force to rattle its hinges. Aye. He much preferred Cat’s anger to her tears.