Katie's Highlander

by Maeve Greyson

  Ramsay stopped, gripping his spear in his right hand as he shielded his eyes with his left and scanned the area. His scrutiny stopped midway and he pointed his spear at a higher elevation some distance from the village. “There.”

  “Where?” Katie followed Ramsay’s line of sight but didn’t see anything but a pile of rocks covered with mounds of lounging seals stretched out to catch the last of the day’s sunshine.

  “Watch for the smoke. ‘Twill rise again in a bit. He’s allowed his peat fire t’burn low since the day is warm.” Ramsay nodded as he held out his hand. “Come. ’Tis time t’meet the old one and see if he can help us.”

  Katie fisted her hands against her stomach like a child refusing to obey. This was wrong. She felt it clear down to her toes. She couldn’t do this to Ramsay. Wouldn’t he eventually resent her? Grow to hate her for taking away something he really loved?

  “No.”

  Ramsay’s jaw tightened—the way it always did when something wasn’t going his way. Well, fine. He’d get over it. In fact, someday, he’d probably thank her.

  “I don’t want to do this, Ramsay.”

  “I dinna give a damn what ye want, Katie.” Ramsay’s face darkened with a furious scowl she’d never seen before. “I want ye safe and right now, that’s all that matters t’me. Yer safety, d’ye ken? I willna lose ye to the cruel uneducated ways of this time.” He took a step closer and snagged hold of her right arm, locking his fingers tight around her wrist. “Now, ye’ll either come with me of yer own free will, or I’ll tote ye o’er m’shoulder like a felled deer. Yer choice, woman.”

  The son of a bitch is serious. His reasoning was touching but his technique could use a hell of a lot of work. This situation obviously called for some serious strategizing. Failing at yanking her wrist out his grasp, Katie rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go with you but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do whatever the old druid says.”

  It was Ramsay’s turn to roll his eyes as he shook his head. Without a word, he pulled Katie alongside him as they wove their way through the deserted village of Skara Brae to the mound of lounging seals and the stones behind it. As they neared the higher elevation, Katie spotted the thin spiral of smoke rising from somewhere just beyond the crest of the hill.

  The closer they drew, the more Katie could pick out the distinct sound of someone humming. Loudly—or she never would’ve heard it over the wind and the waves. Apparently, the old druid was not only still quite alive, but also could carry a tune. They picked their way down the hillside and stepped around the mound of stones, carefully navigating a narrow stretch of steps made out of rocks and boulders carefully fitted together.

  As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Katie pulled her airisaidh off her head and allowed it to drape about her shoulders. Finally, out of the wind. I can actually hear myself think. A shelter of stone with a roof of mud and thatch was built into the side of the pit that protected it from the harsher touch of the winds and rains coming in directly off the sea.

  “Wait here,” Ramsay instructed in a tone that dared her to argue. Spear at the ready, he walked toward the door.

  She’d give Ramsay a little leniency for his caveman etiquette, but they’d definitely talk later. She wasn’t about to let that bullshit get out of control.

  Ramsay beat on the door. “Hello within. We mean ye no harm. We’ve come t’seek yer counsel.”

  The door opened and there stood Dwyn.

  “ ’Tis damn nigh time ye got here, boy. I thought ye’d ne’er make it.”

  “Holy shit.” Katie shook her head and yanked her airisaidh tighter about her shoulders.

  “ ’Tis a pleasure t’see ye too, lass,” Dwyn replied with a twinkle in his eyes. He stepped to one side and waved them inside. “Come now. The both of ye. Inside where it’s out of the wind. I’ve stoked the fire and brought whisky enough for us all.”

  “Good,” Katie said as she shoved past Ramsay and made her way over to the table beside the fire. “I could definitely use a drink.”

  A loud crash behind her had her spinning around. Ramsay had Dwyn by the throat, lifted off the floor by a good foot and a half, and shoved up against the wall.

  “Where the hell have ye been, ye manipulatin’ bastard? Where the hell have ye been?” Every vein bulged in Ramsay’s arm and one visibly pulsed at his temple. Ramsay was beyond pissed, and all bets were off. “I’ve been callin’ t’ye night and day. Since when d’ye abandon a protector?”

  Dwyn acted as though being hung against the wall was an everyday occurrence. Arms relaxed at his sides, he shrugged. “Ye were ne’er abandoned, young fool. The goddesses and I have been watchin’ o’er ye.” He shrugged again. “No’ that much is goin’ on in the future—other than yer wee sister graduating early from high school. Canny lassie, that one is, smart and braw as she is beautiful.”

  Ramsay growled and bounced Dwyn against the wall again.

  Time for some damage control. Katie rushed forward and took hold of the arm Ramsay had locked at the elbow to keep Dwyn suspended. “Never piss off the gods, Ramsay. Come on. Let him go.”

  “He’s no’ a god,” Ramsay argued through clenched teeth, his face growing redder by the minute.

  “Close enough,” Katie shot back with a warning look. Dwyn might not be a god but he was damned sure something powerful if he could flitter back and forth across time anytime he wanted.

  Dwyn chuckled and cocked a brow at Ramsay. “Ye’d do well t’listen to yer wife, boy. It appears she’s learned much during her visit to this time.”

  “Send us back, ye bastard. We did what the goddesses bade us, now send us back.” Ramsay lowered Dwyn to the floor with a rough shove then stomped over to the fire as if putting space between himself and Dwyn might be best for all concerned.

  “I see ye’ve grown quite pompous as high chieftain,” Dwyn observed as he straightened his ragged léine and cloak, which comprised his disguise of a wise old druid. “Have the powers spoken t’ye, told ye that ye’ve done as they wished? If they have, I’m quite impressed because they’ve always restricted their conversations to yer father or myself.”

  Katie hurriedly poured three cups of whisky, wondering whether it would help the situation or act like gasoline thrown on a fire. Let this help, she silently prayed as she handed Ramsay and Dwyn a cup then raised her own in the air. “Sláinte mhath.”

  Dwyn smiled at her and Ramsay gave her a disbelieving stare. She pointed her cup at Ramsay and repeated. “Sláinte mhath, dammit!”

  Dwyn burst out laughing and clapped a hand to Ramsay’s shoulder. “Fine lass, she is, fine lass indeed. Sláinte mhath, lass, Sláinte mhath.”

  “Sláinte mhath,” Ramsay grudgingly repeated then chugged the contents of the wooden cup.

  Katie welcomed the burn and the less tense atmosphere. Maybe it would be better if she jumped in and asked the questions. “If we haven’t done what the goddesses wanted us to do in this time—then what is it? What are we supposed to do?”

  Dwyn studied her for a long uncomfortable moment, easing closer as he watched her. “Yer anxious to return to the future, are ye?”

  “Sort of.” She wasn’t going to lie. She truly had mixed emotions about the whole damn deal. Katie refilled all their cups. “A hot shower sounds like heaven and I’d sell my big toe for a cup of coffee.”

  “Ye speak of things, lass—no’ of people in the future. Do things mean so much t’ye?”

  Dwyn’s unblinking stare was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. It was like he was peeling away all her layers and exposing her most vulnerable thoughts. Katie looked to Ramsay, but his body language said he wanted to hear what she had to say too.

  “No.” Katie lifted her chin, taking the dare. No one could ever say she was a chickenshit. “As my Papa used to say, things pass through our lives—easy to gain, easy to lose. What matte
rs in life is making memories with someone you love. Memories that no one—not time, the gods, angels, or demons can ever take away.”

  Dwyn smiled. “Wise man, yer father. I regret I ne’er had the honor of meetin’ him.” He turned with a start as though just awakening and walked over to Ramsay. “Mistress Katie can return to the future this verra moment. I’ll take her there m’self, if ye wish.” He thumped his empty whisky cup against the center of Ramsay’s chest. “But you, m’lad, are here t’stay. Yer destiny lies here as high chieftain of the clans until such time as ye go to yer grave.”

  Ramsay stood taller, looking past Dwyn’s shoulder and capturing Katie in his stare. The muscles in his jaw twitched and his hands tightened into fists at his side.

  Oh, no, you don’t. “Hell no. I know what you’re thinking.” Katie threw her cup to the table. “I am not going back without you.”

  “I can only bear t’lose ye once,” Ramsay said. His voice sounded ragged. His words were labored as though he wished he didn’t have to say them. “At least, if I lose ye now to Dwyn, I’ll know ye t’be safe…and happy in the future.”

  “You’re such a damned hypocrite. You lied to me.” Time to pull out the big guns.

  Ramsay looked as though she’d struck him. “I’ve ne’er lied t’ye, m’ dearest love. How could you say such?”

  “Who said, ‘There are no guarantees in any life—no matter the century’? Who told me that, Ramsay?” She had a damn good memory and he might as well learn it now. “Before Flora’s sister died, you wanted me to stay here, but now you’re afraid. You’re a coward. Who’s to say that as soon as Dwyn takes me back, I don’t get run over by a bus or get shot by a madman or die of some weird ailment they don’t know how to cure yet?” Katie shook her head, pulling out every damn guilt trip she could think of. “I never thought I’d find myself married to a coward.”

  Ramsay grabbed her up by the shoulders and jerked her close. “I’m only a coward when it comes t’losin’ you. I canna bear it. D’ye no’ understand?” He shook her as though she were a disobedient child. “I love ye, dammit, love ye more than a man should—the thought of goin’ through life without ye tears at m’soul. D’ye no’ understand?”

  “Hell yes, I understand!” she cried out with a whack of her fist against his chest. “Don’t you think I feel the same way about you? How could you possibly think I’d skip back to the future and go along my merry way as though I’d never met you? I love you too, dammit!”

  “Then it appears we’re at an impasse,” Ramsay said with a sad shake of his head as he released her shoulders and turned away. “We’re no’ leavin’ this croft until ye agree to return to the future with Dwyn.”

  “Would you do something with him?” Katie flipped a hand in Ramsay’s direction as she glared at Dwyn.

  “What would ye have me do, lass?” Dwyn asked in an infuriatingly calm tone as he refilled their cups with whisky.

  “Manage him!” She closed in on Dwyn. “Apparently, you and the goddesses have been dealing with the MacDaras all their lives. You should be an expert at this shit by now.”

  “Aye…ye’d think such, would ye not?” Dwyn sounded weary as he clasped his hands to the small of his back and meandered about the small dwelling, a thoughtful look pursing his lips. He paused in his pacing and scowled at Katie. “Are ye sayin’ ye’d be willin’ to live out yer days here in the past?”

  “I’m saying I don’t care where I live out my days as long as I live them out with Ramsay.” And there was the truth of it in a nutshell. She loved Ramsay more than coffee, more than indoor plumbing, and even more than modern-day feminine hygiene products. She’d trade away everything for Ramsay.

  Ramsay whirled around, jabbing a finger at her. “I willna have her stay here t’die whilst tryin’ to bring my child into the world. I willna have it!”

  Dwyn studied him for a long moment and frowned. “Why are ye so certain that’s the lass’s fate? Ye’ve ne’er had the gift of second sight.”

  “Many women die that way—I remember Máthair’s words to Esme about the history of women’s sufferin’ and how lucky the lass is t’live in a time that’s so much safer. I’ve already witnessed one such death in the short time we’ve been here. What else am I t’think when it comes t’my own wife bearing children?”

  Dwyn paced a few more steps but the stronger slant to his shoulders and lift in his step gave Katie hope. The demigod was up to something. Her hunch was confirmed when he glanced her way and winked. Dwyn pointed to one of the benches by the table. “Sit ye both down. I’m about t’do something that I’m rarely given permission t’do.”

  “What?” Katie asked as she and Ramsay sat on opposite sides of the table, facing off like a pair of arm wrestlers.

  Dwyn solemnly nodded to Katie as he took his place at the end of the table. “I shall show ye two possible futures,” he paused and gave them both a long serious look. “And with this knowledge, the two of ye will make yer choice.”

  Chapter 24

  “Possible futures?” Ramsay knew Dwyn and his tricks. He didna trust the wily bastard. Dwyn and Katie needed t’be on their way while he still had the strength to let her go back to the safety of the future without him.

  “I’m in no mood for yer damn games, Dwyn.” Take her now, Dwyn. Take her now. Ramsay squinted his eyes and hardened his stare, willing Dwyn to heed his unspoken wish.

  Dwyn waved a hand in front of his face as though brushing away an annoying bug. The bastard knew Ramsay’s thoughts—he just didna give a damn about them. He returned Ramsay’s stare—just as stern and hostile as the one he’d received. “This is no game, boy, and if ye’ve an ounce of sense left in that head of yers, ye’ll accept this gift from the goddesses and be grateful for their givin’ of it.” Dwyn shoved his upturned right hand in Ramsay’s face. “Now take hold and shut yer maw so yer stubborn ears might open.”

  The unreasonable urge to snap Dwyn’s neck sent another flash of rage through him. Non-carin’ son of a bitch. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed hold of Dwyn’s right hand with his left and squeezed. Hard. A distinct stinging jolt made him adjust his grip to a more mannerly hold. Dwyn followed the painful reprimand with a smug superior look that he’d oft used when training the MacDara sons in the ways of a protector.

  “And you, m’dear.” With a great deal more grace, Dwyn held out his left hand for Katie to take. Once she had her hand in his, Dwyn nodded at the table between them. “Now the two of ye join hands and I will explain what the goddesses reveal.”

  Ramsay swallowed hard. He’d ne’er heard of this being done in all the history of the protectors. That wasna good. To receive such personal attention from the goddesses was a treacherous burden t’bear—great gifts from the goddesses came with great responsibility and debt. He took Katie’s hand and prayed for the strength to hold true to what he knew must be done. Katie had to be kept safe. That was all that mattered. She had t’go.

  “The two of ye have arrived at a fork in yer life’s path and it appears ye canna agree upon which direction to take.” Dwyn’s voice took on an uncomfortably deep monotone that made Ramsay lean forward and strain to hear better. “The western path, Katie returns to the future t’stay there permanently. Close yer eyes and see her journey. And yers. Feel the pain this choice holds for each of ye—even though, as ye insist, Katie would be safe from dyin’ whilst having children.”

  Ramsay closed his eyes, tensing as a mind-numbing coldness wrapped around him, then squeezed. Darkness. Pain. Heartache. Loss of all joy. He was alone. He vaguely felt another trying to comfort him, but he spurned her and the attempts of others. He lived out his days with only pain as his companion. Bitter. Cold. He guided the clans but became known as the dark chieftain that all feared. He forwent all human contact, leading the clans from a lone room at the top of a tower until they found him dead by his own hand.

  Ramsay shook away
the visions and the pain that assaulted his senses. Visions of Katie replaced them and the agony those visions held came too. She was alone. Immersed in her work. Her smile was strained when it appeared at all. She was cold and the light in her eyes had gone dull. She looked as though she never ate. And then she was dead. Curled around a pile of stones at the base of a stone pit on Skara Brae. A pit that looked to be the exact place where they now sat.

  Roaring against the vision, Ramsay opened his eyes. His heart wrenched at the sight of Katie’s tear-streaked face. His precious Katie. His strong Katie who never cried. “This is trickery!” he shouted. He had to make her understand. “Illusion. All of it.”

  He yanked Dwyn closer. “Tell her!”

  Dwyn shook his head. “ ’Tis no trickery. ’Tis but one possible thread that could appear in the tapestry of yer destiny.” He glared at Ramsay with a stern unholy look. “It will come to pass within seven mortal years, if Katherine returns to live out her life permanently in the future and the two of ye are forever parted.”

  “Don’t call me Katherine,” Katie interrupted. “Only Papa ever called me Katherine and that was only when he had something serious to tell me—something that was never good. Like Nanny Fay having cancer or my cat dying.”

  “But you are Katherine,” Dwyn said. “Chosen by the goddesses because of your distant ancestry. Just as the wives of Alec and Grant were chosen for them because of their…what d’ye people call it these days…DNA…aye, that’s it. Chosen as the proper mates of a protector because of yer heritage…the strength of yer DNA. If ye return to the future and leave Ramsay, the thread, the DNA ye bring to the table t’mix with that of a protector, will be lost to us forever and the future line of protectors will be less due to the missin’ of it.”

  “I don’t want to return to the future!” Katie cried out with a frustrated sidelong glare at Ramsay, jabbing her thumb at him without releasing his hand. “He’s the one being difficult.”