Elena and Anna were both staring at her, their eyes wide. "That's brilliant," Elena said finally, looking a little taken aback. "That's your million dollar idea, Kay."
"Liam was right about you." Anna grinned.
"Okay," Kay said, taking a deep breath, pleasantly surprised by how supportive the other women were being. This was happening extremely fast — but of course, it made sense that gunpowder and similar things would have been around for a while. Didn't they fight with fairly sophisticated guns in the Civil War? Of course they'd have had predecessors… she was picturing a kind of shotgun that would spray out iron filings. But first she had to find out whether it would all work… she needed to check in with the blacksmith about it, talk to Liam about it… Anna was grinning at her.
"Go! If you've got ideas to manifest, go manifest them! We'll be here if you need us. For moral support," she added with a broad grin.
And just like that, Kay was away, with a hurried thanks for the women who'd helped her figure out the idea. She made a beeline for the stables, hoping that Oliver would be there. Sure enough, there he was, still working his way through the same basket of rusted tools… it must have been a considerable pile at the beginning. He was nearly done, though — and she grinned when she saw that his basket of filings was almost full.
"Oliver. Weird question for you — have you ever heard of black powder weapons?"
He tilted his head, looking thoughtful. "Aye, I might know a thing or two. Knew a man who built them for fun — spectacle, you know, something to show the kiddies."
"Would you know how to build one?"
"Perhaps." He frowned. "I'd need considerable help. Do you know what kind of weapon you're trying to make?"
She sighed. "Not really. But Lady Anna does, and so does Elena — they're both firearms experts. Do you think you could work with them?" She gave him a rough description of her idea, finding that as she talked, she was honing the image down to a more specific form.
He nodded thoughtfully. "It'll take some doing. But it's not out of the question. Leave it with me? I'll mull it over while I finish with these tools."
"Thanks, Oliver," she said gratefully, a broad smile breaking out over her face. "Oh! And don't throw out those iron filings, will you? I have a plan for those as well."
He nodded, not looking surprised. "I've seen you eyeing those off. This is an anti-wisp weapon you're dreaming up, isn't it?"
She nodded, and a smile passed across his face.
"All the better. I'll see what I can do, Kay."
She was so full of enthusiasm that she almost forgot that it was Liam she was most excited to tell. It was a long, impatient day waiting for the hunting party to come home, and she all but bounced out to meet him when they rode through the gates, talking and laughing after another successful day of wisp hunting.
She couldn't wait to tell him how much closer she'd gotten to solving the wisp problem once and for all.
Chapter 48
They headed into dinner together, Liam happily telling her about how the day's hunt had gone. The men were getting very adept at using the long torches to scorch the wings of the wisps before spearing them on the ground. Unfortunately, such was the damage caused by the fire and iron that none of the creatures' bodies could be brought back to the castle for inspection — Kay had asked for a specimen to autopsy or examine the first few times the men had gone out, but it hadn't been a possibility. The descriptions provided were useful, though — knowing the rough size of the creatures had helped her come up with her plan to help defeat them.
They sat down to eat together, and Liam set about demolishing a huge plate of food, the day's activities clearly having taken it out of him. She waited a while — at least long enough for him to have taken the edge off his appetite — before bringing up the subject she'd been burning to share with him.
"I was talking with the other women today," she said, "and I think we've figured out a weapon to help fight the wisps."
"Oh, yes?" He looked up, his eyes bright.
"It's a kind of… okay, so where I'm from, we have weapons called guns. They're these very lethal metal things that fire a small piece of metal very fast into — well, anything you point the gun at." She wished she had a napkin or something to sketch on — he was looking at her with an expression that said he was going to listen patiently, but he quietly thought that what she was saying was absolutely bonkers. "Anyway, they … I don't exactly know how they work, but it has to do with gunpowder, which gets set on fire and kind of — explodes the bullet out."
"Right," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "You don't intend on trying to … explode the wisps, do you?"
"I mean, sort of!" She leaned forward, warming to the subject. "There's a way — I was talking to Elena and Anna about early guns, primitive guns. There's a way of using black powder to construct a kind of explosive weapon that could spray the wisps with iron filings."
He blinked at her. "Iron filings."
"I talked to Oliver, the blacksmith, about it, and he said that if he talked to Anna about construction —"
"Well, I don't doubt he'd have iron filings on hand, but do you really think that's a good idea? Some kind of… exploding metal stick?"
She hadn't been expecting him to doubt her idea this strongly. She frowned, trying to gather herself, sure that he'd agree that it was a good idea if she could just convey it properly. "No — you can aim it. And the spray of iron will be impossible for them to dodge, you see? Then the iron will settle into the swamp and hopefully stop them breeding."
"It sounds dangerous, Kay. Not just to the wisps, but to the men using these weapons. There's no guarantee that a handful of iron filings will stop the wisps, and at any rate, I don't like the idea of my men using an untested weapon."
"We'd test it," she said blankly. "I wouldn't just — give you something dangerous and untested and send you into the swamp, Liam, I'm not an idiot."
"Of course you're not an idiot," he said soothingly, and something about his tone set her teeth on edge. It felt condescending. It felt like he was just trying to shut her up. "I just don't think this is one of your better ideas, that's all. Back to the drawing board, I reckon — isn't that the expression?"
She ground her teeth. "This is a good idea, Liam."
"I don't think so," he said apologetically, spreading his hands. "It's too dangerous—"
"You've barely heard word one about it and you're already saying no and to think of something else? You're being ridiculous. What's the point of telling me to brainstorm ideas if you're just going to shoot them down the minute I come up with them?"
"I don't shoot down all your ideas —"
"No, only the ones that are unfamiliar to you, because you think if you personally haven't experienced it, it can't be any good. That the way you do things is the only way to do them. Well, I think that's stupid, and shortsighted."
He narrowed his eyes, clearly reacting to the tone in her voice. She knew she was being aggressive — but she didn't care, right now. He was the one who was shutting down an idea that had a huge amount of merit — an idea that might actually save lives. "Don't call me stupid."
"Then don't say stupid things," she snapped. Too angry to even think about eating, she got abruptly to her feet and left the hall, heading for her own quarters — where she'd barely been for the last few days, save for the collection of a few bits and pieces and changes of clothes. She felt an odd pang of regret as she slipped through the door, feeling the unused-ness of the room settle around her, and, still full of spite toward Liam, she set about making the room feel more lived in. She re-made the bed, set a fire in the hearth, and swept a little dust from the table by the wall. Feeling much more satisfied now that she was alone, she sat down to brood in earnest about what Liam had had the audacity to say to her.
The night wore on. What was she going to do about him? On the one hand, she really did like him. Even before they'd made their sexual connection, she'd felt an instant draw to him�
� their friendship had been solid and reliable, they got on well together, made each other laugh and seemed to work well as a team, too. He was everything she'd need in a partner, emotionally as well as spiritually, and the fact that their sexual connection was so good didn't hurt either… she felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she remembered the particularly passionate evening they'd spent together last night.
But passion and sexual chemistry were nothing if they couldn't communicate. And like it or not, he'd let her down tonight. He'd completely failed to listen to her, to understand what she was pitching — simply because it was unfamiliar with him. Could she really be with a man who was unwilling to broaden his horizons, to learn about things beyond his own world? She was something beyond his own world… a woman brought back through time from his distant future. If he couldn't understand that, he couldn't understand her… and they'd never be a truly functional couple. That made her deeply sad, but she knew it was the truth. If he couldn't work this out… well, there was no future between them.
She drifted off into a troubled sleep late that night, and when she woke in the morning, she didn't especially feel like going down to breakfast. She stayed in bed, dozing in and out of a light sleep, her mind restlessly chewing on the problem of Liam. To think he'd all but asked her to marry him… but how could she consider that when he'd been so stubborn about an unfamiliar idea? The day drifted on, and she heard the hustle and bustle of the castle going on… but right now, today, she just couldn't bring herself to be a part of it.
Chapter 49
The day wore on, and eventually she got hungry enough to get up and traipse downstairs for a late lunch. She ate alone, listless in the dining room as she snacked on the leftovers from the midday meal — most people had eaten and gone already. A little while later, she heard the familiar sounds of the gates being raised and the shouting of the guards. The hunting party was back. The last few days, she'd always gone running out to meet it… today, she resisted that urge, still angry with Liam for how he'd treated her. Still, part of her was worried about the men, wanting to make sure that everyone was still okay and unhurt by their daily battle with the wisps, so after a few minutes she sighed heavily and headed outside.
The men looked a little wretched today. They all looked worn down and exhausted, their heads heavy, and to her dismay she could see a lot more wounds than usual. A quick head count confirmed that the worst hadn't happened — all the men who'd left that morning had returned more or less safe and sound — but she bit her lip at how many bites and stings there were. One man's arm was paralyzed, like Liam's had been, and another had a deep scratch on his face that looked like it was going to need a fair bit of medical attention — she warned him to clean it carefully before he bandaged it and he nodded tiredly, clearly too exhausted to put up much of a fight.
"Kay," Liam said guardedly when she reached him. She took a deep breath, aware of the tension between them… and more importantly, that it wasn't the good kind of tension.
"How'd you go?"
"Not well, I'm afraid," he said with a heavy sigh.
This close, she could see he hadn't escaped injury himself — there were some fresh bites and scratches decorating his face and arms, but to her relief she couldn't see any signs of paralysis.
"They seem to be catching wise to the long torches. Much harder to hit… and much more vicious in retaliation."
"Sorry to hear that." She resisted the urge as best she could… but it just came bubbling out of her before she could stop it. "If you could just consider the idea of a spray of iron filings —"
"Kay, I've already told you what I think of that idea," he said irritably, his voice a lot harsher than it usually was. "Now — if you don't mind, I've got to go in and clean up."
"Liam! I don't understand why you're being so hard-headed about this!" she exploded, suddenly full of all the impatience and frustration that she'd been stewing in for the past day. And with nowhere else to vent it, it was all pouring out at him, right there in the courtyard. She could tell his friends from the guard were looking around with curiosity, but she didn't care if she was causing a scene. "I've had an idea — an idea you volunteered me to have! — an idea that might just save some lives, and you're not willing to even consider it —"
"I'm not risking men's lives over some odd invention, Kay, and that's the end of it!"
"You're risking men's lives every day by not taking advantage of every opportunity to give those men a fighting chance!"
"We'll talk about this later," he growled, in a tone she'd never heard before — full of rage, full of frustration.
She shut her mouth hard, her eyes stinging with tears as he turned on his heel and strode away from her, headed back to the castle. The looks the guards gave her before they followed him were of mixed sympathy and confusion — Brendan, looking twice as exhausted as the rest, offered her a conciliatory shrug before he turned and headed inside.
She was full of anger and had no idea what to do with it. So she stormed into the stables — the place she'd always gone when she was upset, when she had no idea where else to turn. When she'd been bullied at school, when her high school crush had laughed in her face, whenever she'd been having trouble, it was always the smell of fresh hay and horses that soothed her tears. So she strode down the long aisle of stalls, fighting back tears as she went. He was ridiculous, not listening to her. This entire place was ridiculous. The minute she tried to bring something new to the table, something unconventional, something more modern than they were expecting… she dropped into a pile of fresh hay at the back of the stables where nobody could see her and cried until she felt like she was going to burst.
She'd never been the kind of person who cried out of sadness — it was usually frustration that brought the tears on. And there was plenty of that… but as she cried, she realized belatedly that she was crying, too, for her losses. Crying for the home she'd been forced away from, for the family she'd never had a chance to say goodbye to, for the life she'd been building that had been ripped away without warning and replaced with this bizarre new place. Scotland wasn't without its charms, but it wasn't home — she'd known that since the beginning, she'd been fighting off that conclusion for weeks now, but it was finally rearing up to claim her. She wanted to go home… but she knew, deep down in her bones, that there was no way of doing that.
This was where she lived now. This was where she was stuck… until the day she died.
She cried for what felt like hours… then, finally empty and exhausted of all emotion, she drifted into a strange sleep. When she woke up, night had fallen outside — she could see the stars through the window of the stable and realized with a jolt that nobody had come to find her. Here she was, alone in the back of the stable. Liam certainly wasn't going to come looking for her… the other women would just assume she was with Liam if they noticed her missing at all…
And as though her mind had been quietly working on a plan while she slept, she sat up and pulled the straw out of her hair, suddenly fixed on a course of action. It made perfect sense. Why was she waiting for men to give her permission to try her ideas out? She'd spent too long hanging around Liam, waiting for his approval to be clever. Well, she'd been clever her whole damn life — long before he'd come around to notice.
It was time she showed him what a woman from Wyoming could really do.
Chapter 50
She moved quickly once she'd made her decision, all the parts of her plan falling into place in her mind as though she'd been planning this for years. First, she needed a torch. She knew from the assembling of the extra-long torches that the pitch and wood for the torches were kept with the blacksmith's supplies — that worked out well, she wasn't far from them. She grabbed herself a torch… then hesitated, the sharp scent of pitch in her nostrils. They were making considerable numbers of torches these days, keen to keep the guards well-stocked when they headed out, and there were several buckets of pitch sitting there.
An idea, fully-form
ed, materialized behind her eyes, and she grinned to herself as she grabbed not only the bucket of pitch, but also the bucket of iron filings that the blacksmith kept behind his forge. She knew there was more where this bucket came from — she'd seen Oliver's collection of filings firsthand earlier that day, when they'd talked about the primitive gun they were planning to build — so she was free, for now, to experiment with this one.
Was this a stupid idea? Very probably. Was that going to stop her from doing it? Not on your life.
She grinned to herself, feeling a lot better now that she was in motion again. It was the work of a moment to fetch Shadow from her stall and tack the mare up. Shadow looked at her curiously, clearly confused by why they were heading out at such a strange time of day… after all, nobody had been leaving the castle after dark for weeks now, what with the wisp epidemic. She whispered wordless soothing things as she pulled the horse's bridle on. Then she put a stick through the handles of both buckets, lit her torch with flint and steel, mounted the curious but still placid Shadow, and set off into the night.
To her relief, the gate was still open — the guards peered curiously over it as she rode through, but there must have been something about the set of her jaw that stopped them asking any questions about where she was going after dark. After all, she looked like she had an important mission — torch aloft, cloak around her shoulders, a grim look in her eye. She urged Shadow on, eager to get to her destination…. it felt strange to be out late at night like this, with the sound of crickets and the splashing of the Loch somehow oddly loud. What was that? Why did it feel so loud at night? Was it the absence of traffic? She'd been living in Casper so long that she'd gotten used to hearing cars roar by… the thought that she'd never hear a car again as long as she lived crossed her mind, and she bit her lip, trying to keep her focus on the task ahead.
Distracted By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 4) Page 17