Page 56 of Katie's Highlander (Highland Protector 3)
“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 besafefrom 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.”
“I dinna wish t’lose her! Nor watch her suffer!” How could he make them understand? “I canna bear it!”
“Ye don’t lose her, Ramsay. In the end, ’tis you who leave her behind.” Dwyn squeezed Ramsay’s hand and sent a stinging zap into it again to get his attention. “Look.”
Memories flashed through his mind—no, not memories, because he’d never experienced these things before. These were scenes from a time that was many years from now. He knew this because he recognized Katie—barely. It was Katie as a verra old woman, bent and fragile but still beautiful in his eyes. She sat beside the bed of an old man who was still and pale as though not a drop of blood remained in his flesh. Head bowed, she held the man’s bony hand between both of hers as tears slid down her wrinkled cheeks. A spear was in the bed beside the man. Ramsay’s spear. Recognition startled Ramsay. The withered old man was him.
Katie didna grieve alone. Three men, braw, strong, fine warriors and two lovely lasses with silver-blond hair clustered around Katie’s chair. Four wee bairns, three little boys and a tiny girl barely tall enough to see over the edge of the bed, stood at Katie’s knees, hugging their tousled heads into her lap.
Eyes still tightly closed, Ramsay felt Katie squeeze his hand tighter. Children. Grandchildren. They lived. They all lived. Selfishly, relief flooded through him. He’d be the one to cross over first. She wouldna leave him behind. Alone—to suffer the world without her. He would brave the crossing first for the both of them but when he left her, their children and grandchildren would see to his dear one’s care.
He opened his eyes and met Katie’s, complete release of his fears washing across him as he gave her a sheepish smile. “I admit it. I’m a coward and a selfish bastard.” He squeezed her hand, willing her to understand and find it in her heart to forgive him. “But ’tis only because I love ye so, m’dear one. I canna live without ye.”
Katie gave him a trembling smile. “You die first and leave me behind to carry the pain.”
“Aye, m’dearest love, but I dinna leave ye alone. I leave ye with our children and our grandchildren until such time as ye cross through the veil and join me.”
The wind rattled the tiny croft’s door, shoved its way in through the cracks of the wood, and set the flames on the tapers to dancing. Dwyn released their hands and stood.
“Good. ’Tis settled then. I leave the two of ye now but know this, I’ll be back t’check in on ye from time to time.”
He shed the druid’s cloak and tattered clothing, revealing his favorite pin-striped suit and polished black dress shoes. He adjusted the silk handkerchief peeping out of his pocket and smoothed down his lapels. Smiling, he gave them both a polite nod. “And dinna be surprised when ye find yerselves back in North Carolina from time to time. The goddesses cherish family above all else and ye mustn’t lose contact with yer kin nor the opportunity t’show yer children the blessed stone—but know this: yer place in time is here. I’ll try t’warn ye when ye’ll be called forward in time but I canna make any guarantees. Depends on the druthers of the goddesses, ye ken?”
“So, there is hope for coffee in my life again?” Katie asked with a mischievous hike of one brow.
“Aye, for certain.” Dwyn chuckled. “Fare thee well, m’children. Go forth now and live yer lives without listenin’ to the wicked fear that nearly kept ye from knowin’ the richness life has t’offer. Teach yer children as well that fear tells ye lies to control and manipulate ye. Never listen to fear. Never.”
Before Ramsay could respond, Dwyn was gone. The wind howled louder, banging the door once again before falling eerily silent. The air crackled, still filled with Dwyn’s residual energy. Ramsay rounded the table, swept Katie into his arms, and held on tight. Burying his face in her hair, he closed his eyes and breathed in the only scent in creation that had the power to soothe his troubled heart.
“I love ye, dear one, more than ye’ll e’er be able t’ken.”
Katie snuggled closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and pressing a quick kiss to the underside of his jaw.
“I ‘ken’ more than you realize, my hardheaded Highlander,” she whispered against his throat as she tightened her arms around him and squeezed. “And I love you more.”
Epilogue
BRADY,NORTHCAROLINA
