Page 51 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
Agnes thumped two large baskets, overflowing with loaves of bread and crocks of pickled eggs and salted fish onto the worktable. She clapped her hands at the four young girls scurrying about the large food cellar gathering more items. “Hie yer steps now and do as yer lady bids ye! We’ll no’ have Flora’s family gone a wantin’ what with winter nearly at our door.”
“At least they agreed to leave their croft and spend the winter here at the keep.” Katie snatched bundles of dried herbs and small cloth bags of grains off shelves and packed them into the already bulging baskets. “From what I understand, Flora’s sister pretty much mothered them all after their parents died. Her brothers and the little ones are lost without her.”
“Aye, and her sister’s grievin’ husband left them—returned to the seas t’find his livin’. He couldna bear the pain of bein’ around his own children, what with his wife gone and all.” Agnes gave a fierce downward jerk of her double chin as she tucked a small knotted cloth of salt into the corner of one of the baskets. “And as much as ye love Flora, ye must admit, that lass canna fill her sister’s shoes—no’ for the lack of tryin’, mind ye, it’s just she’s too young t’ken what t’do.”
“I know.” Katie hefted one of the baskets off the table and handed it over to a tall gangly lad waiting just outside the pantry door. “Here’s the first. There’ll be at least three more, so you might want to get your friends to help so you don’t have to make so many trips.”
“Aye, mistress.” The lad’s face went scarlet as he respectfully bobbed his head then took off with the basket.
Katie climbed out of the in-ground larder as she shoved her rolled sleeves higher above her elbows. Her emotions were playing hell with her soul today. Another barrage of painfulwhat-ifshit her hard as she watched the boy hurry out of the kitchen.
What would’ve happened if she hadn’t been here to help Flora’s family move to the keep for the winter? What if the goddesses had scooped her and Ramsay up, sent them back to the future, and left the clans at MacTavish Keep fending for themselves? What would’ve happened to Flora? Her tiny niece and nephew? Her brothers?
The clans would’ve helped them all they could, Katie felt sure of that. But would they have done enough? After all, life was expected to be hard—everyone had their own battles to fight in the war to survive. Katie chewed on the corner of her lip as she slowly turned, watching every maid and serving boy, observing Agnes as they all bustled about the hot steamy kitchen preparing the day’s meals.
History wasn’t just history anymore. Never again would it be some emotionless story on a dry dusty page. These people—they were so much more than mere names in some book or some data file on her laptop. If she ever got back to the future and read those names now, she’d see faces, hear laughter, remember the kindness of a look, the friendly touch of a helping hand.
Moving slowly through the kitchen, Katie scooped up a small crock from the long worktable and smoothed her thumbs across the rough grain of the heavy clay molded and shaped to create a useful vessel. How many of these had she unearthed on digs? Always before, they’d been just bits of crockery, dated and studied for the level of craftsmanship. Now? Now…this was the crock that Agnes always used for the portion of salt that she placed beside her chieftain’s plate, so he could season his food even more to his own personal taste. It wasn’t just a pot or a tool. It was a way for Agnes to take special care of her beloved chieftain who she served with unconditional loyalty.
Katie swallowed hard and blinked fast against moisture gathering in her eyes. If…no, not if…when she went back to the future, all these people would be long dead. Katie closed her eyes and scrubbed her forehead.No. They wouldn’t be dead. It’d be just like now. They’d be alive—kind of—the years running parallel. Time isn’t linear—it’s layered. Damn—if I could only tell Papa that his theories had been right.
Papa’s fondest hobby had been reading books about time travel and he’d sworn that one day, somebody somewhere would figure out how to make it happen. Katie huffed out a sad humorless laugh. “I did it, Papa. I don’t know how, but I did it.”
Massaging her temples, Katie leaned back against the wall, out of the path of the scurrying servants. All this time-travel bullshit was giving her one hell of a migraine and that said a lot. She rarely got headaches—not even when she drank a lot more than she should. Her college buddies had always envied her. But she’d finally met her nemesis here. This skating-back-across-centuries business and sorting out all the confusing what-ifs—thiswas worthy of one hell of a skull cracker.
A hesitant pat on her shoulder made her open her eyes and see Agnes’s sympathetic face. “Ye’ve done all ye can, m’lady. More than enough, in fact.” The old woman stood taller and proudly nodded. “Such a fine carin’ lady, ye are. The lot of us are verra grateful t’serve ye.”
“I’m the one who’s grateful, Agnes. Grateful to have met you and everyone else here.” Spurred on by her churning emotions, Katie gave Agnes a hard hug, biting her lip to keep from sobbing aloud. She’d miss this cantankerous old woman so much. She’d miss everyone.
Agnes’s cheeks pinked an even rosier shade and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Confusion pulled her sparse gray brows together as she patted Katie’s arms. “Why ye sound as though yer a leavin’ us, Mistress? Surely, tha’s no’ the truth?”
What could she say? She wanted to leave…well, she wanted to return to the ease and conveniences of the future, but she didn’t want to lose the rich friendships she’d forged here in the past. She didn’t necessarily want to leavehere,per se. She wanted…what the hell did she want?I want it all. Friends from the past and the future and indoor plumbing all around. Damn, what a mess.
She gave Agnes another quick hug. “I guess Flora’s sister made me realize that we never know when we might leave this world.”
With a thoughtful nod, Agnes gave a quick shrug. “Aye, mistress. ’Tis sadly true.” Shuffling over to the worktable, she drew the attention of one the maids already working the dough for the day’s meal. “Run and fetch some herbs from Old Creada for the mistress. Tell her ’tis both the lady’s head and heart in need of ease then I’ll brew up a fine tonic t’bring our lady her rest.”
“Aye, mistress.” The young girl bobbed a curtsy then took off at a run, her long amber braids bouncing out from under the edges of her white maid’s cap and streaming out behind her.
Agnes glanced back at Katie. “I ken the death of Flora’s sister and her babe has yer heart a hurtin’. Hie up to yer bed, mistress. Lay ye down. I’ll bring the tonic up as soon as the wee gal returns, and I get the herbs steeped good and proper.”
Katie swiped the back of her hand across her brow then shoved her wayward curls away from her face. A nap sounded awesome but there was no time. Flora needed her. “I’ll lay down after I get back from visiting Flora. I want to make sure they’re getting settled okay.”
“As ye wish, m’lady.” Agnes looked toward the kitchen’s rear door that led to the massive smoky pits used for roasting large animals. “If ye cut through the smoke lot, ‘twill shorten yer journey by a good bit and get ye to yer bed all the sooner.” Lifting her chin, Agnes fixed her with a superior look that made her want to squirm. “I ken ye wish t’visit with the lass but ye look a bit peaked, m’lady. Makin’ yerself ill willna help wee Flora. In fact, ‘twould vex the wee gal sorely if she believed she caused such a thing t’come upon ye.”
Katie waved the words away and headed out the rear door. She’d be fine. She’d catch a nap when she got back from visiting Flora. Picking her way around the massive pits and the iron spits mounted over them, Katie sent up a prayer of thanks that no carcasses were in the process of being roasted. She couldn’t stomach that sight today. She slipped through the back gate, crossed the kitchen gardens, then exited through another gate.
The heart-lifting sound of children laughing guided her to Flora’s beleaguered family’s quarters. There was a sturdy stone croft just inside the skirting wall and that’s where Ramsay had placed them. In fact, there Ramsay was, balancing a heavy wooden table across his back as he threaded it through the narrow door of the croft and two men followed behind him with the benches.
Her knight in shining armor. Working alongside his people instead of just sitting on high and giving orders. Katie’s heart swelled. How could she possibly love him any more than she did right now? Her inner philosopher had been mulling that question over a lot lately. Maybe it wasn’t that she loved himmore.Maybe her love for him was just changing. Maturing. Metamorphosing from body-tingling lust tohe’s a part of me and I care about himlove. Katie pulled in a deep breath and embraced the feeling.
Papa had been right when he’d described it. This was one of those loves that everyone wants but few are ever blessed enough to find or smart enough to realize when they have it. Well, she realized it and claimed it for her own. All the weirdness that happened to come as part of the package could just be damned. She loved Ramsay. Plain and simple.
Ramsay emerged from the croft with a happily squealing child tucked under each arm, jiggling them and spinning in a slow circle to make them squeal louder. Katie hugged herself.Of course he’s great with kids. And that’s a good thing.She had very little faith in the sponge-and-vinegar contraceptive method of the tenth century. If they stayed here much longer, she felt sure that Ramsay would have the opportunity tobe greatwith his own children.
If I survive bringing them into the world.The ominous thought came unbidden as Flora stepped into view, standing in the open doorway of the croft to shake out a cleaning rag. Katie’s heart hurt for her friend. Flora looked as limp and ragged as the worn cloth she snapped between her hands.
“Flora!” Katie refused to be dark and dreary today. That wouldn’t help Flora. She hurried forward, sidestepping a spinning Ramsay and the cackling toddlers. “Are you getting settled? Do you think this will be okay?”
