Page 41 of Highlander’s Heart

What bothered Kate the most about all these visions was the difference of the worlds. She knew she spoke a different language in these memories, English. She knew there were mobile phones, antidepressants that helped her sister stay afloat, and cars and airplanes. She knew that because she remembered driving, and then flying to Scotland.

But what had happened in Scotland, she had no idea.

Mice scratched in the walls of the garret. An owl hooted outside. It was quiet at night in her Cape Haute apartment, despite them living on Main Street, where all shops were. Her window was at the back of the building, overlooking the alley.

Sometimes, she heard Mandy cry at night from the other side of the wall. She sobbed into her pillow so that she wouldn’t wake up Jax. Every time, Kate knew what this meant. Mandy wouldn’t get out of bed for a week, Kate would need to book an emergency session with Dr. Lambert, and hire a temp to take care of the restaurant. All that meant more costs. During those days, she also needed to be Mom to Jax.

Her heart weighed heavily for leaving them, for not being there to help. She knew from those memories that her life was dedicated to providing for them, to caring for Jax, to giving him a better future than Kate and Mandy could ever have.

But where was that world with cars and airplanes and stainless-steel kitchens?

The most disturbing thing of all was that the checks in the restaurant were dated with the year 2020. So was the plane ticket she’d held in her hand when she was in the airport.

The small window let in the pink light of sunrise. Kate managed to convince herself the visions weren’t memories. They must be her imagination, no matter how real everything felt.

But the bottle, she thought. The bottle and the plastic wrapping in her purse. And the money in the wallet. And the credit card…

There must be another explanation for them.

If it was all her imagination, the verdict was clear. She was insane. She must be schizophrenic or something. Delusional.

And a burden.

Ian had just hired himself a crazy cook who thought she might be from the future.

And she was falling for him. Far too attached to him. She’d leave one day in any case, but the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to do so. The kindest thing would be to relieve him of her troubles. He was already tortured and clearly wanted to be free. She couldn’t bear to make his life harder.

She had to leave.

She’d go back to Inverlochy and try to figure out why she had lain there, unconscious and wounded. There must be some way to convince the steward she wasn’t an enemy. She should examine the underground area where she was found. Maybe there were more clues that would trigger her memory.

Or her imagination.

Her head spinning, Kate rose from the bed and dressed. She made her way down into the kitchen to take something to eat for the road. Ian hadn’t paid her yet, and she didn’t want to see him and explain why she was leaving. So she’d take some food as payment. That should be fair.

She took two loaves of bread, the remnants of the pies from the wake, and a couple of boiled eggs. She filled her water bottle from the well.

Kate looked around the kitchen for the last time. She’d hoped it might become her home, and despite Manning’s growls, she’d been happy here. In a way, she was happier when she didn’t remember those crazy things about the future, her sister and her restaurant.

Should she say goodbye to Cadha and Manning? Or Ian?

She hadn’t seen him since he’d followed her out to the well yesterday morning. He hadn’t asked for lunch or dinner. Had he even come home?

Didn’t matter. Maybe he had a female friend he’d spent the night with. The thought stabbed her in her chest.

No, she shouldn’t think about it. It was his business, not hers. She was no one to him.

But she had to leave some sign that she was all right and hadn’t gotten lost somewhere or drowned in the loch. Not having a pen or paper, she took a handful of flour and sprinkled it over the clean table, then wrote with her finger:

“Thank you. I’m going home. Kate.”

With a heavy heart, Kate walked out of the house. It was very early, and the loch stood still like a mirror in the crisp air of the summer morning. Birds chirped in the trees as she walked towards the woods from which Ian and she had arrived several days ago.

Several blissful days ago.

Kate turned back to look at Dundail for the last time. The sight was so beautiful it took her breath away. The proud house, the tall, square tower with the attached one-story building where the main hall was, looked magnificent against the long loch and the mountains, forest and hills on the other side.

“Goodbye, Ian,” Kate whispered.