Cailean’s smile was mild, but appeared more heartfelt. “You could have it all if it were up to me.”
“Are there more family relations out there to meet?”
She shook her head and gently dropped her backpack and the journals to the floor beside her. “Just me.”
They lapsed into silence, openly studying one another. Maggie smiled first and stuck out her hand. “Margaret Mary Claren. Pleased to meet you, cousin Cailean.”
Cailean’s hand was strong and callused. “Likewise.”
“So, exactly how are we related? I don’t know much about my family.”
“We have something in common then. Neither do I.”
Cailean didn’t seem all that upset about it. A week ago, Maggie would have understood the feeling completely. “I’ve been reading Lachlan’s journals. He apparently made genealogy a sort of life quest.”
“As far as I can tell, the confusion with the property was because Lachlan hadn’t updated his will recently.”
Maggie nodded. “He left my inheritance to his nephew, my father. How did they find you?”
“These other journals were found in some things he’d left to a friend in Scotland. They had some information on my parents in them, so the man who had them contacted the solicitor. I guess that was the missing link to me. I was on a dig, but they finally tracked me down. He forwarded the journals to me, along with the information about the trunk.” She laid the journals on top of her pack.
“I wonder why they told me I was the last heir?”
“I guess when they couldn’t locate me, they figured you were.”
“So, you haven’t read the journals you have?”
Cailean’s smile faded, the pinched look returned to the corners of her mouth and eyes. “No. I haven’t.”
“Well, if Lachlan was one of my grandfather’s brothers, then you must be descended from another brother.”
“You’re probably right.”
“That would make us what? Second cousins?”
“If our grandfathers were two of Lachlan’s brothers, it makes our fathers cousins. Or would, if mine were alive.”
“Mine died, too, when I was little. Both my parents did. Sort of spooky, the similarities.”
“Spooky. Yeah.” Cailean’s laugh rang a bit hollow. Maggie wanted to chalk it up to her obvious fatigue, but she sensed there was something more disturbing running through her cousin’s mind.
“So, you didn’t know about Lachlan at all?”
Cailean shook her head. “I was raised by my mom’s best friend. There was no family stuff left for me to go through. House fire,” she added at Maggie’s questioning look. “That’s how my father died.”
“That’s awful!”
“I was an infant, so I have no, recollection of him. My mom died of cancer when I was six.” She waved away Maggie’s condolences with an appreciative smile. “Lachlan must have been living in Scotland. I never heard about him.”
“Well, he knew about your father anyway. And mine. They needed a detective to track me.”
“Seems odd that he hadn’t updated his will in all this time. I mean, our fathers both died decades ago.”
Maggie shrugged. “I think he was more interested in digging deeper into the distant past. As for me, I was raised by my maternal grandmother’s sister, Mathilda. She wasn’t much for dwelling on the past.”
“I think I would have liked her.” There was a wistful note in Cailean’s voice as she stood and walked to the window.
Maggie’s curiosity nudged her to probe a bit. “Isn’t it a bit unusual for someone who studies ancient human cultures and peoples to seem so—”
She spun around. “Disinterested in her own?”
Maggie sat back in her chair. Cailean might have been road weary, but that hadn’t diminished the sudden heat in her green eyes. Funny, she hadn’t noticed their color until now. Maggie decided not to back down. After all, the woman had tracked her down, not the other way around. “Exactly. Why did you come here today?”
“I had to. My inheritance is here.”
“Oh, right. More family history stuff. Yeah, I can see how you’d be dying to get a hold of that.” Maggie stood. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound so harsh. But it’s obvious you don’t care about any of this. Why would you want the rest of the journals?”
“I don’t want them. But it’s … they are … well, they’re my destiny. You couldn’t possibly understand. I have to have them whether I want to or not.” She stared defiantly at Maggie, then seemed to deflate. Her chin dipped, her eyes went flat and her shoulders slumped.
At first, Maggie thought she’d simply lost the will to argue, that fatigue had finally won out. But several seconds passed and Cailean neither moved nor so much as blinked. Her gaze was fixed past Maggie’s shoulder, in the direction of the fire. Maggie thought she might pitch forward in a faint.
“Cailean?” Uh oh. Had Duncan returned in a poof somewhere behind her? Maggie shot a quick look over her shoulder at the fire, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Frowning, she stepped closer to Cailean, but her cousin didn’t move in any way. Feeling ridiculous and scared at the same time, Maggie waved her hand in front of Cailean’s gaze. “Cailean? Are you all right?”
She had no idea if Cailean was having some sort of seizure or what to do for her if she was. Should she try to snap her out of it? Shake her? Move her to a chair in case she passed out? She waved her hand in front of Cailean’s face again. “If your head starts spinning, I’m out of here,” she said quite earnestly.
In that instant, Cailean blinked, then turned her head and looked at Maggie. “Could I have another glass of water?” she asked, as if nothing had happened. She paused while Maggie stared at her, then added, “If it’s not too much trouble.”
Maggie looked closely, but other than the pinched lines around her eyes and mouth being a bit more pronounced, and her skin being a shade paler, she seemed fine. “Ah, sure. Be right back.”
Maggie shook her head as she filled the glass. I’ve inherited the ADDAMS FAMILY.
“So,” she said calmly as she handed Cailean the glass, “does that happen often? You blanking out like that?”
Cailean accepted the glass just as calmly and sipped. If she was bothered by the question she didn’t show it.
“Are you ill? I mean, is there something I should do for you if you gap out again?”
Cailean let out a short laugh, startling Maggie. “Ill? I’ve often thought so. Plagued, actually.”
“You want to tell me about it?”
“Not really.” Cailean eyed her steadily, then sighed in resignation. “But you’re not going to leave it alone, are you?”
“Let me ask you this,” Maggie said, relenting a bit. “Does whatever just happened to you have something to do with why you’re here for family heirlooms you don’t want?”
“You could say that.” Cailean sat down in the rocker once again. She gestured to the couch. “You might want to sit. It’s been my experience that it’s the best way to hear what I have to say.”
Maggie folded her arms and held Cailean’s gaze. “It can’t be all that bad.” Though the sudden lifting of the hairs on her neck warned her that she might be wrong about that. Cailean was looking at her almost too intently. Perhaps she should have left things alone.
“Have it your way,” Cailean said at length. “You don’t seem like the fainting type to me anyway.”
Maggie laughed despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “Oh, you might be surprised.” She gave in enough to sit down across from Cailean and offered a smile. “I’m an open-minded person. In fact, my mind has made some amazing expansions lately.”
Cailean’s smile was part indulgent, part apologetic. “Since you’ve witnessed one of my ‘spells,’ I might as well tell you. Just remember, you wanted to know. Whether you choose to believe me is up to you.” She stopped, took a small breath, then said, “Since I was little, I’ve had the ability to … know things.” Sh
e looked Maggie dead in the eye. “Before they actually happen.”
Maggie was proud of herself. She hardly blinked at the news. “So you’re saying you’re … what’s the word … clairvoyant?”
“Something like that.”
“So that’s what’s happening when you blank out? You’re seeing something? You have like, visions or something?”
Cailean kept her chin as level as her gaze. She was neither embarrassed nor boastful. In fact, she seemed emotionless, simply delivering the facts. “Yes.”
“And you have no control over when they hit you?”
“Very little.”
“Wow, I’ll bet that can be a major pain in the butt.”
A smile curved Cailean’s lips. “An understatement, you can be sure.”
“Do you have them often?”
“Fortunately, no. Until recently, I’d almost begun to think that they were going to stop altogether.” Cailean looked away for a moment. The light streaming in the window revealed the strain beneath her calm outward expression. “I started getting them again about two months ago. They were mercifully brief, vague. More of a pain than anything. I was more annoyed that they’d come back than by what I was seeing. I tried to ignore them, but that was wishful thinking. I learned that a long time ago, but it had been so long …” She trailed off and looked away again. “I just hoped.”
Maggie felt a tug in her heart and reached out to cover Cailean’s hand. It was then she realized just how tense her cousin was. She wasn’t simply weary and stressed, she was on edge. She had her fingernails dug so deeply into her knees, Maggie imagined they were making marks through her pants.
“Listen, you don’t have to tell me any—”
Her eyes locked on Maggie’s. “But I do. You’re part of it now. You’re part of the reason I’m here.”
“Is that what you just saw? In your vision? Something about me?”
Cailean nodded. “You’re in danger.” She swore suddenly under her breath and pulled her hands from Maggie. “That’s the hell of this.” There was anguish and a wealth of frustration in her voice. “I get to know this much,” she put her forefinger and thumb close together, “but never the whole picture. I know who you’re in danger from, but not why, when, or how.”
“Cailean—”
She abruptly grabbed Maggie’s hands and held them so hard her fingertips went numb. “No, listen. You don’t understand. I might be part of the course fate set you on. I never know if I’m deliverer or deliverance. But I have to try anyway. I have to try.”
“Well, of course. Anyone would feel they had to do that, but listen—”
“No, you don’t get it.” Cailean was growing more agitated by the second, pulling on Maggie’s hands, her expression ferociously intent. “I’m not here because I’m some kind of Good Samaritan. Far from it. If it was up to me, I’d ignore the visions, force fate to happen without my help or hindrance. God knows I’m sick of feeling responsible for things I have no control over. But that’s not the way it works. It just gets worse and worse until you think you’re going insane and—”
“Cailean,” Maggie interrupted, first gently, then with some force. “Cailean, stop! Listen to me.” She would have been more worried about the state her cousin was getting herself in if she hadn’t felt such a profound, almost ridiculous sense of relief. “It’s okay. I already know about the threat. That’s why I’m here.” She gently pried her hands loose, then took Cailean’s in her own. “That’s why I wouldn’t greet you at the door.” It was a mark of just how strange a turn her life had taken that she grinned, when there was actually nothing funny about the situation at all. “I actually thought you were a hitwoman.”
Cailean finally stilled.
“I know it sounds weird. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw those journals in your hand. I really didn’t want to kill you with the fireplace poker.”
Cailean pulled her hand away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The danger you saw in your vision. My ex-fiancé is stalking me. That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re joking.” She looked at Maggie like she wasn’t too certain of her mental stability all of a sudden.
“Of course I’m not joking.” Maggie frowned. She would think Cailean, of all people, would have an open mind. “Listen, I believe you about the visions.” She smiled wryly. “God knows, there’s not much I won’t believe these days.” Cailean continued to appear concerned. With a sigh, Maggie said, “You should be happy. Your job is done. I’m warned. I know I’m in danger. You can stop worrying about me.”
But Cailean wasn’t listening. “I have no idea what other trouble you may be in, but your life is in jeopardy from another source. A source that has plagued Clan Claren for centuries. You are going to cross paths with—”
At that moment the front door crashed open and Duncan strode in carrying an enormous armload of firewood. He was kilt-clad but bare-chested and sweaty from his labor despite the cold mountain air. His hair clung damply to his neck and shoulders.
Maggie sprang to her feet. “You’re back!” she said, a bit too brightly. Oh great, what timing. Cailean still had a death grip on her arm and now she had to explain Duncan. At least he’d entered the cabin like a mortal.
She started to pull her arm loose so she could move aside and introduce Cailean, but froze when Duncan dropped the entire load of firewood to the floor in a resounding crash. He pointed at Cailean, simultaneously reaching for a broadsword that—thankfully—wasn’t there. “You!” he thundered.
Maggie turned toward Cailean, but she skirted in front of her, arms spread wide as if to protect her. “MacKinnon! Don’t come near her!” Keeping her gaze locked on the advancing Duncan, she said to Maggie, “This man is going to be the death of you.”
EIGHT
“The only one who’ll be dyin’ today is you, Edwyna Claren!” Duncan roared as he charged across the room.
Cailean retreated a step, bumping Maggie backward. “Stand back, MacKinnon,” Cailean warned.
“Di’ ye think waitin’ three hundred years was long enough to make me forget wha’ ye did?”
“I haven’t done anything to you. I’m not Edwyna Claren. My name is Cailean.”
Duncan’s advance ended with him less than a foot away. “Cailean? What devil is this now?”
Maggie whispered, “Maybe your vision was a bit off.”
“I know what I saw,” Cailean said clearly, resisting Maggie’s attempts to push by her. “You are in danger here.”
“Aha!” Duncan shouted. “A taibhsear. You have the dha shealladh, two sights. You’re a key. Ye’ve admitted it.”
Cailean stiffened.
Maggie ducked under Cailean’s arm and stood between them. She turned to Cailean. “I thought you didn’t know anything about your family—our family. How do you know his name?”
Cailean never took her eyes off Duncan. “I didn’t until a few minutes ago. What I saw was distant past. There is danger between our clans.” She swore under her breath. “I didn’t see it all, I just … know. There is a threat here.”
Maggie looked uncertainly at Duncan, then at Cailean. She blocked Cailean’s attempt to pull her back. “I appreciate what you are trying to do, Cailean. Don’t worry, I’ll take full responsibility for whatever might happen to me.” She glanced at Duncan. “But I don’t think it’s me he’s after.” She moved back so she could eye them both at the same time. “Now, would one of you like to clue me in on exactly what’s going on here?” She turned to Duncan. “Do you know each other?”
Duncan eyed Cailean with clear distaste. “Perhaps no’,” he said, though it was clear he didn’t completely believe it. “I’ve met her kind, sure enough. Cailean, you say? Yer no wraith then?”
“You think I’m a ghost?” Now it was Cailean’s turn to look at Maggie in confusion.
So she didn’t know. Yet. “Humor him,” Maggie said.
Cailean looked back to Duncan. “I’m quit
e alive, thank you.” She straightened her spine. “And I will remain that way. As will Maggie.”
“We all die sometime,” he said darkly. “Doona expect me tae beg yer pardon, Cailean Claren. First one Claren descendant, now another.” He slashed at the air with his hand. “Aye, as if They thought one wouldna be enough of a test, they put a Claren Key in my path.” His eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step forward. “Even if yer no’ Edwyna Claren, yer a descendant of her. You have her look exactly. Yer a seer, as she was. I’ll warn you now. I’ve no more use for you here today, than my brother did three hundred years ago. If you think tae come charmin’ me onward to hell with your fey ways, then you’ll be sadly disappointed. I willna be followin’ my brother’s path. You’ll go alone.” He raked his gaze insultingly over her, then, with a snort of disgust, turned away from her in clear dismissal.
Maggie stared after him, more curious about the things he’d said than worried for her or Cailean’s safety. She pasted a smile on her face and turned to Cailean. “He’s not entirely housebroken yet. You’ll have to excuse him.” She eyed Duncan over her shoulder.
Cailean still had a semi-glazed look on her face. “Did he say brother? Does he really believe his brother is three hundred years old?” She was staring at Duncan’s back with a combination of disbelief and fear.
“It’s a long story.” Maggie took her by the arm and led her quickly to the front door before she recovered enough to start asking. She had some questions of her own anyway. Judging from her reaction, Cailean seemed to understand a whole lot more of what he was talking about than Maggie did. She skirted the pile of wood and tugged Cailean behind her until they were safely on the front porch. Did all this somehow tie in to Lachlan’s quest?
The firewood kept her from closing the door, so she moved on down the stairs and across the small clearing. “Why don’t you come with me to Griffith? It’s a little town about forty-five minutes from here. We can talk on the way.”
“Maggie, I want you to explain …”
Maggie wasn’t sure how long Duncan would brood—given his usual pattern, it could likely be days, but she couldn’t take the chance. “I promise I will. I really have to get to Griffith and make a call. Come on. We’ll take the Jeep, my wreck isn’t all that dependable. I’ll pay for gas.” She was trying to usher Cailean along without actually grabbing her by the arm and dragging her. Then she realized she’d have to go back in the cabin and get her purse. Despite her instincts telling her Duncan wouldn’t really hurt her, there was too much going on for her to be certain Cailean wasn’t in danger here. “You’ll feel better if I’m away from Duncan, right?”
The Legend Mackinnon Page 7
