Everything In Its Time Read online
Page 4
Iain. She remembered his name.
The dreams were definitely coming more frequently. And this one was stronger, closer to reality. Katherine tried hard to remember the others. But except for the first one, they remained foggy, always just out of reach, brief glimpses into another world, his world. She swallowed, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. Her fingers closed around the small smooth stone hanging between her breasts. The cairngorm earring. She was seldom without it. For eight years now she had worn it as some sort of secret talisman, a connection to a fantasy.
She shivered as she remembered another detail from the dream. He had been wearing the other earring, the mate. Her mate. She belonged with him. Her heart knew it, as surely as she knew her own name. Her body tightened at the thought. With a rush, she was filled with a need so strong it rocked her. She had to go to him.
But as quickly as the urge surrounded her, her rational mind laughed mockingly. Go where? To whom? That was the essence of her problem. She seemed to be forever bound to a man who didn't exist, a dream man. And most frightening of all, she loved this man, Iain. Loved him with a passion so strong and so deep that even the rational knowledge that he was merely a figment of her imagination couldn't sever the bond. Oh God, she must be crazy.
Resolutely squaring her shoulders, Katherine threw off the blankets and padded to the bathroom. She turned on the shower taps and began to shrug off her sweat-soaked nightgown as she waited for the water to heat. Turning to check the water, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was not surprised to see deep shadows underscoring the gray of her eyes. Like the others, this dream had left her exhausted. With a sigh, she stepped into the tub, welcoming the sting of the shower.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there, letting the water cleanse her, restore her. But finally, her mind found the answer it had been seeking. She stepped out of the shower, rubbing herself vigorously with an oversized towel. Then, donning her robe, she emerged from the bathroom, wholly refreshed and with a plan. A crazy plan, true, but then this whole thing was crazy, so it fit right in.
Her mind made up, she crossed to the phone. Picking up the receiver, she dialed quickly before she could talk herself into a more sensible course of action.
"Caldwell Travel." The voice on the other line was cool and professional.
"Vickie? Katherine St. Claire here. I'd like to book a flight to Edinburgh, with a connecting train to Inverness. Oh, and I'll need a rental car there. And I'd like reservations at a castle hotel. It's called Duncreag."
*****
"You're late." Elaine Macqueen's voice was filled with tolerant laughter.
"I know." Katherine twisted to slip between two restaurant tables, smiling ruefully at her friend. "But then, I'm always late. So, at least it's not a surprise."
"True."
The restaurant was crowded. It was part of a chain, dark and decorated with what looked like antique buyers' rejects. Katherine stifled a sigh. Personally, she would have preferred somewhere with fewer people and more windows. But it was Elaine's favorite place and Katherine was more than willing to meet her friend wherever she wanted.
"Sit down." Elaine motioned to a chair adjacent to hers. "How is the world of academia?"
Katherine gave her friend a quick hug and dropped into the chair. "Nothing to complain about. The usual freshman excuses and end-of-term restlessness. I'll be glad when I've paid my dues and can start teaching more upper-level classes." Propping her elbows on the table, she leaned forward and fixed Elaine with a mock-serious stare. "How is my favorite legal eagle? Still saving the good guys from the scum of the earth?"
Elaine rolled her eyes. "Just another day in the life of an assistant D.A. Seriously though we are working on a tough case. The trial is about to start. So, it's me and the library and late hours, I'm afraid. Since I knew you'd be late, I ordered for us. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. What am I having?"
"A Caesar salad, what else? Honestly, Katherine, you are too much a creature of habit."
As if on cue, a harried-looking waitress appeared. "Here you are, a Caesar and a club sandwich. Anything else?" They shook their heads almost simultaneously, and with a brief grimace passing for a smile, the woman turned to take orders at a table full of boisterous young men.
Katherine toyed with her salad. "So, tell me, how's life in the grown-up world? I've forgotten what it's like not to be surrounded by hormone-driven nineteen-year-olds."
Elaine laughed, tossing back auburn curls. "A wee bit jealous, are we?"
Katherine smiled. Elaine had lived in the U.S. for the last fifteen years, but her Scottish burr was still discernible. Katherine loved it almost as much as she loved Elaine.
"No, I like what I do, especially my research. It's just that at this time of year I get a bit overloaded. Thank goodness I'm not teaching summer sessions."
"So what are you going to do, spend three months in moldy archives somewhere digging up obscure bits of medieval social history?" Elaine rolled her eyes, then delicately began eating her sandwich with fork and knife.
"You make eating a sandwich a formal affair. It's a sandwich for a purpose, Elaine. You know, ease of eating it? And no, I am not spending the summer in a moldy library crypt. I'm taking a trip." She smiled, waiting for her friend's response.
It did not disappoint. Elaine dropped her fork and raised her hands in exaggerated surprise. "You're going somewhere? The woman whose patterns are so set she can't even find her way to a new restaurant? Surely you jest."
"Nope. As a matter of fact, I'm off to explore your old haunts."
"Well, since my haunts have been yours for the last eight years, I can only assume you mean the bonny Highlands." Although her smile was still teasing, her tawny eyes deepened to take on a slightly worried look. "You're having dreams again."
There were no secrets between them. Katherine still remembered the night when, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, she had found the courage to tell Elaine about her dream. It had been soon after they'd first met, when Katherine had just started graduate school and Elaine was in law school. Elaine hadn't laughed. She'd listened carefully, asking questions, analyzing, even then, in an attorney-like fashion, neither believing nor disbelieving, just accepting. And when the other dreams had started Katherine had shared those, too, with her friend.
"Yes, and they're getting stronger, clearer somehow." Katherine twirled her fork absently, chewing on the inside of her lip.
Elaine reached across the table and covered Katherine's fidgeting hand, fork and all. "You're going to Duncreag."
It wasn't a question, but Katherine answered anyway. "Yes. It's time I face the fact that this probably is nothing more than romantic fiction. Duncreag is just an old castle—no magic, no nothing. I need to accept once and for all that these dreams are just that: dreams. Then maybe they'll stop and I can get on with my life."
Elaine's grip on her hand tightened. "And what if they aren't just dreams? Are you ready for that?"
"What are you saying, that I might go there and be whisked off to some magical place and be reintroduced to the man of my dreams, literally?"
"I don't know. My legal mind says, no way. My Highland heritage says, why not? There are lots of things out there we don't understand, Katherine. Obviously, real or not, you have developed quite a bond with this man. So much so that he keeps you from finding someone here in the, quote, real world."
Katherine felt the color rush to her cheeks. "Don't start that again. You know I'd like a relationship. It's just that I can't find the right man."
"You can't find him."
"Iain." Katherine looked intently at her salad. "His name is Iain."
"What? How do you know that?"
"I heard it."
Elaine's grip tightened further, threatening to cut off the blood supply to Katherine's fingers. Katherine pulled her hand away, then rubbed it gingerly with her other hand.
"Sorry," Elaine grimaced, "I guess I don't know my
own strength. I also didn't know you could hear things in the dreams."
"I haven't until now, except that first time. In the others it's always been more like watching a movie through a gauzy curtain. You know, sensations washing over me, but still kind of hazy. Last night, though, it was like the curtain had been lifted and I could see and hear everything clearly. And, more important, I remember."
Elaine sat back in the chair, her elbows balanced on the arms, her fingers laced together under her chin. "What exactly do you remember?"
"Well, Iain was in a wooden bathtub in front of a fireplace. He looked so tired, Elaine, like he was in great pain. The grief was almost palpable. Anyway, without boring you with all the details, he was looking for me, I think. I mean, he must have sensed me, because he got up and ran into the other room. The one from the first dream."
Elaine grinned. "That must have been quite a picture."
Katherine blushed and smiled. "It was. Anyway, right after that another man came into the room and started talking to Iain. Ranald, his name was Ranald. The amazing thing is that I could hear them, Elaine. I could understand them. I think they were speaking Gaelic. I studied it a little in grad school, in order to be able to understand old manuscripts, but I definitely had trouble translating it as spoken words."
"I'm not surprised. You and Jeff spoke it some with your grandmother though, didn't you?"
"Yeah. She really wanted us to learn it, but that was a long time ago."
"What else do you remember about the dream?"
"Well, when Iain got dressed"—Katherine stared intently at the lettuce on her fork, a red stain heating her cheeks once more—"he put on a leinechroich. You know, the large saffron-colored shirt the Scots wore?"
Elaine raised one delicate eyebrow. "You're dreaming in color then?"
Katherine continued, completely ignoring Elaine's sarcasm. "Yes, yes, in color. And he wrapped himself in a plaid of sorts. I think they were called feileadh mor, but I'm really not sure. The two were worn together, so perhaps it had another name." She paused, trying to puzzle out the answer.
"Listen, my overeducated friend, I know you fancy yourself a medieval expert and you've the degrees to prove it, but couldn't you just stick to the good bits?"
"What?" Katherine jerked out of her reverie. "I'm sorry. Where was I?"
"He was getting dressed."
"Right. Well, this is the important part. He turned to fasten a cat brooch of some kind to his plaid, and when he did, his hair swung back and I noticed the earring. He was wearing my earring. You know, the cairngorm one I lost, the night of the first dream?" She held up her necklace, waving the stone to emphasize her point. "He remembers. Elaine, I swear it, he remembers."
Katherine closed her eyes, a wave of longing surging through her. She shook her head and opened her eyes. "Anyway, shortly after that he and this Ranald left, and I tried to follow, but I couldn't. The room just faded, and I woke up in my bed, in the twentieth century. Elaine, all I wanted was to close my eyes and be back there, with him. So I called Vickie Caldwell and made my plans. I keep trying to tell myself that I'm only going so that I can put an end to this. But I can't deny that I feel this urge to go. Something deep inside me wants to be there. I know it isn't rational, but I want so desperately for him to be real."
"I know you do. You always have. That's why you never let any other men get close to you. You've already given your heart away."
"Yeah, to a figment of my imagination. Very rational move."
Elaine pushed her plate away and leaned across the table to touch Katherine's cheek. "Look, I have no idea what you'll find when you go to Duncreag, but I think you're doing the right thing. I just wish I could be there with you. I don't like to think of you going through this all alone."
Katherine smiled. "Well actually, I won't be alone. Jeff is joining me, at least for a while."
Elaine brightened. "Good. I'll sleep better knowing he's with you." She paused, flicking at a nonexistent speck on her sleeve. "So, I take it that means he's still in London? Has he decided to marry the English girl, then? What was her name? Patience?"
Katherine's grin widened at her friend's feigned casualness. Elaine had been half in love with her brother for years. "It's Prudence. And I don't think it's serious. He didn't mention her at all when I called. But he did ask about you."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Shall I give him a message from you when I see him?"
Katherine noted with pleasure the stain that was now spreading across her friend's face.
"No, um, yes, well.... tell him I said hello and that we'll all get together and lift a pint when you get home."
Katherine reached for the check the waitress had just slapped down on the table. "You know, for an incredibly gifted attorney you are positively dotty when it comes to my brother."
"Let me get it." Elaine reached to pull the bill from her grasp.
"No, you always do. I may work in academia, but I'm not destitute. Let it be my treat this time." Katherine pulled the white ticket out of range, grabbing bills from her wallet with her other hand.
Accepting defeat, Elaine sat back. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow. No sense in postponing the inevitable."
"I suppose not. You'll call me when you're safely there?" Elaine pushed back her chair, gathered her briefcase and purse, and stood up to go.
Katherine rose, too, leaving the check and money on the corner of the table. "Sure, and if you're really good I might let you talk to my brother."
Elaine made a fist and mockingly swung at Katherine. They began threading their way through the crowded restaurant, pausing at the door. "Seriously," Elaine said, "if you need me I'll be as close as the nearest phone."
They hugged. Katherine suddenly had a sinking feeling that this could be a permanent good-bye. Shrugging it off, she joked, "I'll hold you to that pint. And I even promise to bring Jeff."
Elaine smiled. "Take care of yourself."
"I will."
Katherine watched until Elaine turned the corner. Then, taking a deep breath, she swung around in the opposite direction, walking quickly. She still had to pack.
Tomorrow, come what may, the adventure would begin.
Chapter 3
THE AFTERNOON WAS gray, the mountainside cloaked in mist. Iain stood on the cliff edge, Alasdair and Ranald at his side, and looked into the gorge below. His belly tightened as he thought of his father's fall.
"This is the place, then?" Iain looked at Alasdair, who was still staring intently at the rocks far below them.
"Aye, we found him down there." Alasdair moved to the edge and pointed at a pile of rocks and debris. "We came from the south. There." Again he pointed.
Iain looked back to the bottom of the gorge. The gorse and broom took on shadowy proportions in the misty gloom. He could almost see his father lying there, his body broken and twisted.
" 'Tis a long way to fall. I'd wish it on no man." Ranald placed a large hand on his shoulder.
"Aye, 'tis." Iain shook his head, trying to clear the vision of his fallen sire. 'Tell me, Davidson, how it was you came to be a part of the search party?"
Alasdair's eyes narrowed and he walked away as if refusing to answer, but in a moment his voice came floating across the small clearing.
"I'd been summoned to Duncreag to meet with your father. In his usual manner, he had no' sent word as to why I was being called, just that I should report to Duncreag with all haste. I arrived in the morning, early, thinking to get the business, whate'er it was, o'er and done before the noontime meal. But when I arrived your father was no' there. He hadn't been seen since early in the morning the day before. It seemed odd to me that he wasna present when he himself had summoned me. So I spoke of it to Sorcha. She, too, thought it strange."
Iain met Alasdair's gaze and then turned away, again looking into the misty gorge.
Alasdair continued. "It was she who ordered the search. I felt, under the circumstances, the least I could do was stay
and help."
"Ah, the helpful neighbor." Iain didn't look up, just continued to stare into the mist.
"We may no' be the best o' friends, man, but I wouldna wish this upon you or your kin. Of course I offered to help."
"What happened next?" He watched the man from the corner of his eye.
Alasdair paced along the edge of the ledge. "We split into several groups, each going in a different direction. I dinna think any of us really expected to find anything amiss. I wasna o'erworried. I assumed something had occurred that required Angus' attention. It wasna odd for him to ride out alone—Iain, you know that well. But Sorcha was so worried." He shrugged and stopped his pacing to look at the two men.
Ranald and Iain exchanged a glance, before turning their attention back to Alasdair.
"How many were with you?"
"Around ten men, I'd say, and Sorcha, of course. The weather was much like this—misty and cold. We rode in the fog for most of the day. In fact, we'd finally decided to head back to Duncreag when we came to this gorge."
"And you found him." Iain eyed Alasdair intently, a muscle working in his jaw.
"Nay, no' at first. In fact we might no' have seen him at all if it hadna been for the wee beast up here. When it heard our horses it nickered a welcome. We followed the sound, and once we saw the horse we knew Angus wouldna be far." Alasdair paused, slowly drawing in a breath as if the memory pained him.
"I found him, curled around those rocks as if he were taking a nap. I canna say how long he'd been like that. But in view of the horse standing up here and the fact that his neck appeared to be broken, we decided he'd been thrown. After that it seemed best to get him back to Duncreag as quickly as possible. So we sent two men ahead to call in the others and I wrapped him in his plaid and laid him on his horse. Sorcha was no' well. She was near broken with grief. So I left your father to one of the men and rode with her."