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Robbie started his horse through the trees along the shore of the lake, heading toward the dam. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll look for the lower entrance first. If it’s covered by debris, I’ll swim to the island and see if I can find the other entrance.”

Catherine eyed the tiny island as she urged her horse after the two men. It appeared to be a good mile from shore, and the water looked cold. But trying to keep her promise to Robbie this morning, that she would not interfere in his work, Catherine said nothing and followed in silence.

They guided their mounts down through the forest into the deep valley, the earthen dam of boulders and mud and splintered trees rising above them on their right. They finally reached level ground, rode across the dry riverbed that had once been the obviously large Snow River, and started up the other side.

Ian moved into the lead, scanning the forest around them. “There,” he said, stopping his horse and pointing. “It’s been years, Robbie, but I think the entrance to the cave is up there.”

Robbie dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to Catherine. He looked first at the earthen dam, then back at her. “If I find the entrance, I’ll come back and tell you before I go inside. The dam doesn’t look stable to me, so I want you and Ian to wait on higher ground.”

“You won’t go inside without telling us?”

He set his hand on her thigh. “I promise I won’t if you promise not to follow me.”

“You’ve been asking for a lot of promises this morning.”

His grin slashed across his face. “Aye, and I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping them quite well.”

She snorted and urged her horse forward, pulling Robbie’s horse with her. She moved past Ian and picked an easy route up the hill. But when she turned back to look, to remind Robbie to be careful, he had already disappeared into the woods.

“I’m relieved the boy has found himself a good wife,” Ian said, pulling up beside her.

“None of us wanted to see him so dedicated to his calling that he neglected his own happiness. His papa especially was starting to worry.” He grinned at her. “But now he has you. And I wish to tell ya, lass, that I’m proud of how you’re taking all this. Most women would be nothing but a ball of tears for finding themselves on this journey.”

Catherine had no idea how to respond to his relief or his compliment, other than to smile and whisper a thank you. She didn’t have the heart to tell Ian that it was easy for her to be brave in a dream and that once she woke up, she would no longer be married to his nephew.

They dismounted and tied their horses to some bushes, and Catherine sat down beside Ian and accepted the snack he handed her. It was a dry oat cake of some sort and looked as if it had been pounded flat with a hammer and probably tasted like sawdust. But, again, she didn’t have the heart to refuse his gift and took a bite, then quickly washed it down with even nastier-tasting ale. Dreams of living in the thirteenth century were a great way to lose weight, Catherine decided. She’d only been here three days, and she’d dropped another five pounds.

She stood up, surprised when Robbie suddenly appeared after being gone only twenty minutes.

“I found it,” he said, coming over and helping Ian to his feet. “And Cùram’s tree must be in there. I could feel how strong the energy was the moment I stepped inside.” He took hold of Catherine’s shoulders and made her face him. “I want you and Ian to go back to the village.”

“No. We’ll wait until you come back with the root.”

“Nay. I might be a while. The cave forks off in several directions just inside the entrance.

Go back to the village, and I’ll return as soon as I can.” He leaned down, gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, and straightened and smiled. “And then you and I will go home,” he whispered. “I miss our kids as much as you do.”

“Please let us wait here?” she asked, grabbing the front of his plaid. “We’ll keep an eye out for the MacBains. What if they come to take down the dam while you’re inside? The caves could flood.” She tightened her grip. “And Cùram. What if he suddenly shows up?”

“And just what do you plan to do if he does? Fight thedrùidh with your stick?”

“It’s about as useful as your sword!” she snapped, stepping away. Catherine sigh and canted her head at him. “Do you remember what you said to me right after you put the ring on my finger?”

“I said welcome to the rest of our lives.”

“No, first you said, ‘Welcome to your new calling, wife.’ And you were right. If I’m going to be a guardian’s wife, then it’s my duty to guard the guardian.”

“Dammit, Cat. That’s not what I meant.”

“But you can’t deny that husbands and wives have certain responsibilities to each other.

Just as you feel it’s your duty to protect me, do I not have the same privilege? Or is this one of those ‘I’m the brave warrior, and you’re the helpless little woman’ marriages?”

she asked, dropping her voice to sound like her dictatorial husband.

She smiled when his jaw clenched and stifled a chuckle when Ian snorted and said, “She’

s got ya there, MacBain. Even guardians need help sometimes, and who better than your wife?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Robbie said, glaring first at her and then at Ian. “And I did not bring you home, old man, to get you killed in three days.”

“Aye, but everyone needs to be needed, Robbie,” Ian said softly. “Including wives.”

“No! This is not open to discussion.”

“Then let me put it to you this way,” Catherine said, continuing the discussion anyway.

“If something happens to you, then I’m stuck here. I’m never going to see my children again.” He gave her such a confounded look that Catherine decided to press her advantage. “And I’ll be widowed and remarried to the first warrior fast enough to catch me.”

The noise started deep in his chest, rumbling with lethal warning, and erupted in a full-blown growl. Catherine simply smiled and tapped the end of his nose. She spun away before he could react, and sat back down on the mossy ledge and picked up her sawdust pancake.

“Go find your root,” she said, waving him away. “Ian and I will be right here when you get back.”

Ian, rubbing his hands together, moved to sit beside her, his chin lifted defiantly and his smile ruining his glare.

Robbie pulled his sword from the sheath on his back, and Catherine had a moment’s worry that he intended to send them home at sword-point. But Ian quietly reached over and squeezed her hand, then popped a piece of his cake into his mouth and chewed.

Robbie turned on his heel and started back toward the cave, then stopped and pointed his sword at them. “You’ll leave an hour before sunset if I’m not back by then,” he growled. “And if something happens to me, Mary can get you home.”

“Unless Mary dies trying to save you.”

He growled again, his face hard and his eyes glaring.

“Where is your pet?” Ian asked, looking up at the trees. “I haven’t seen her since we left this morning.”

“She went to check on the MacBains,” Robbie said, still glaring at Catherine. He finally looked at Ian. “Have my wife home by sunset, Uncle,” he softly commanded as he turned and disappeared into the woods.

Ian looked at Catherine and smiled. “It’s going to take him time to adjust to being married,” he told her, patting her arm. “But see, you’ve already won your first battle.

We get to wait here, and you get to do yar worrying up close.”

And worry she did, for three long hours. She ate several more sawdust pancakes and drank nasty ale until her stomach protested by throwing up. She paced a rut in the forest floor and watched Ian doze on and off, until the old man suddenly suggested they move themselves to the entrance of the cave.