Everything In Its Time

by Dee Davis

  Katherine closed her eyes, embarrassed by her foolishness. What was she implying? That she had traveled through time? That she had found a doorway most said did not exist and that others would kill to find? Right. She, Katherine Elizabeth St. Claire, had crossed through time. She flipped her haphazard braid back. Oh, how she wished it were true. And if it was true, how she wished it would happen again.

  She sat motionless on the bed, her eyes closed, her head resting on her knees, waiting ... until the pink fingers of dawn slipped through her window, the delicate beams dancing lightly across the bed.

  *****

  "Good morning, sunshine." Jeff plopped down in one of the hotel restaurant's chairs and glanced around curiously. The great hall was empty, more or less. Only one or two tables in the restaurant were occupied. It obviously wasn't high season. He smiled at his sister. "I see you're still here. I thought you'd be off to visit Fantasy Man."

  Katherine frowned, barely looking up from the oatmeal she was listlessly stirring.

  Even in the cavernous gloom of the hall, he could see that she looked terrible. He sobered instantly. "Jeez, Kitty, I was only joking. I'm sorry. Didn't you sleep? You look like death warmed over."

  She abandoned her spoon, offering Jeff a weak smile. "Thanks a lot."

  He frowned at her. "Did you have one of your dreams last night?"

  Katherine nodded, chewing on her lip, staring at the hunk of butter melting in the bowl of porridge.

  Jeff tipped a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Come on, sis, tell me what happened."

  "You won't believe me."

  He reached for her hand, not certain he wanted to hear what she had to say. "Look, I can't promise I'll believe you—but I love you. So I'll promise to listen."

  She pulled away from his touch and sniffed. "I guess I might as well tell you. Otherwise you'll just hound me until I do."

  "Ah, how well she knows me." He grinned, leaning forward, elbows on the table. "Okay, spill it."

  "You won't laugh?"

  He solemnly crossed his heart with one hand. "I won't laugh."

  Her lips curved upward with a hint of amusement.

  Jeff listened with growing astonishment as she told him about her latest dreams, one that had precipitated her trip to Scotland, and another that had happened last night. When she finished he sat in stunned silence, trying to put his whirling thoughts into some semblance of order. Finally, with a deep breath, he plunged in.

  "Okay, let me see if I've got this straight. Four nights ago, in New York, you saw Fantasy Man in your dream, only he was here at Duncreag." Katherine pursed her lips at the name, but nodded. "And you could hear him and some other guy talking."

  "In Gaelic."

  "Right, in Gaelic. And you're pretty sure dream boy—"

  "Iain."

  Jeff threw his hands up in mock-apology. "Sorry. So you're pretty sure 'Iain' was aware of your presence even though he couldn't see you. How am I doing so far?"

  "Fine."

  "For two nights you had no dreams at all. Then last night you had a doozy. You actually appeared to dream bo ... Iain and saved his life."

  Katherine twirled her butter knife and avoided Jeff's gaze. "Put like that, it does sound a little odd."

  "Odd? Kitty, it sounds certifiable."

  "But it happened." She spoke slowly, enunciating each word, glaring at him.

  "Okay, okay, don't get mad." Jeff raised his hands again, this time in surrender. To buy himself some time to think, he reached into a covered basket, pulled out a small cake, buttered it, and popped the whole thing in his mouth. His mouth immediately telegraphed its pleasure. Swallowing, he licked his fingers with relish and reached for another. A fellow couldn't deal with time travel on an empty stomach. "These are really good. Have you had one?"

  "Uh, uh."

  "Do you know what they are?"

  "Mrs. Abernathy called them bannocks," she offered unenthusiastically.

  "Well, they're great." To illustrate his point, he popped another into his mouth and grinned.

  Katherine sat back with an exaggerated sigh.

  "Hey, a guy's got to eat." He shrugged apologetically.

  She raised both eyebrows and he recognized the determined glint in her eyes.

  So much for stalling. He pushed away the bread basket with a sigh. "All right, let's say for the sake of conversation that Iain is or was real, and that you actually did travel back in time eight years ago. Assuming that's true, how do you think you did it?"

  Katherine sat forward, eyes narrowed in concentration. "I don't know. I read everything I could find about time travel right after I got back from Scotland, but there really isn't a clear consensus as to how time travel could occur. There are all kinds of theories. Some of them are poetic. They use catch phrases like 'ripping the fabric of time'. Others are very scientific, along the lines of quantum physics, which I can't even begin to understand. Then there is all the new age stuff about souls and destiny and all that."

  "So do any of these explanations fit your situation?" He hadn't realized she was so serious about this.

  "Well, it's not like there are case studies out there. And at the time I just figured that if it was real, it was a fluke. You know, some big cosmic accident."

  "But you had other dreams, right?"

  "Yeah, but they really were more like normal dreams. I knew they were about Iain, but I could never remember them clearly afterward. You know, like trying to remember a movie you saw a long time ago. You remember you loved it, and maybe generally what it was about, but the details are hazy." She paused, taking a sip of juice. "Anyway, until these latest dreams I'd really convinced myself that whatever happened eight years ago was only an isolated event, and that I'd probably never really understand it."

  "And now?"

  "Well," she paused, meeting his gaze, "I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm linked to Iain somehow. Certainly, Duncreag is involved. I don't know—maybe it's a gate of some kind."

  Or the Starship Enterprise. He forced himself to follow the thread of her logic. "If that's true, then why weren't you zapped back last night?"

  "I think because we both have to be present for the gate to work."

  He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Okay, I'm not following you."

  "I'm not sure I'm following it myself, but look at the facts. The one time Iain and I were together, we were in Duncreag at the same time."

  "Well, technically ..."

  She frowned at him. "All right, there's the matter of five hundred years. But in our respective centuries, assuming time passes more or less the same for each of us, we were both here."

  "At Duncreag."

  "Right. Then I went home."

  Jeff blew out a breath. "Yes, but you still had the dreams."

  "Well not for awhile, and when I did they were less tangible, more dreamlike. But last night, it was almost as if we were separated only by the thinnest of barriers. So it seems like the closer we come to actually being together, the stronger the link."

  "Okay, then what about the dream you had right before we came here? You certainly weren't at Duncreag."

  "No, but Iain was. Remember I saw the room—his room. And I'm almost certain that, except for the first time, he's never been at Duncreag when he has come to me."

  "So, wait a minute. You're saying that this link you have gets stronger when one of you is in residence at Duncreag?"

  "Yeah. I think the reason my dreams have been hazy is that neither Iain nor I have been at Duncreag. When he returned, the link strengthened. When I arrived here it grew even more powerful, allowing me to warn him."

  Jeff sucked in a breath, the impact of his sister's words hitting him like steel on granite. "You think that if he comes back to Duncreag while you're here, you'll..." He stopped and looked at his sister, unable to say the words.

  She nodded and finished for him. "... be able go back to him."

  "My God. You figured all this out in New Yo
rk when you dreamed that Iain was at Duncreag. That's why you decided to come back here." His head was spinning. This was way beyond anything he could clearly comprehend.

  Katherine tilted her head slightly, the expression on her face answering his question.

  "Kitty, if you're right, and I am not saying that I believe you are, then you could be going... I mean you might not be coming ... Kitty, I might never see you again."

  She gently placed her hand over his. "I honestly don't know what will happen, Jeff. I just know that I need to try. I need Iain. I need him at some level so deep inside me that existing without him hurts. He makes me whole." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to speak. "Don't say it—I know how insane all of this sounds. But if he is real, in whatever time, I want to go to him. I need to. Even if it means leaving you."

  Jeff turned his hand so that it enclosed hers. "A part of me thinks this whole thing is hogwash. But you're basically a sane, well-grounded human being. So another part of me has to accept that it's possible that what you're saying is true." He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes, and blinked rapidly. "You know I want you to be happy. And if that happiness lies on the other side of some mystical gateway, then I'll have to accept that." Jeff tried for a grin but failed miserably. "It'll certainly be a long way to travel for Christmas."

  Katherine brushed at her own tears. "Nothing has happened yet. And if I am living a fantasy, then we can plan for Christmas in New York."

  Almost as if on cue, Mrs. Abernathy arrived at the table. "Good morning to you. I see you've finished your breakfast. I hope it was to your liking."

  Jeff pulled his gaze from Katherine. "I enjoyed every bite."

  Katherine laughed. "And he means it."

  Mrs. Abernathy looked pleased. "Well, then, since you're finished, what do you say to a wee tour?"

  Jeff's mind immediately shifted from time travel to architecture, his eyes lighting up in anticipation. "Perfect. Can we start with the battlements?"

  Chapter 8

  KATHERINE WATCHED HER brother bend down to examine what looked to be several small holes in the floor of the battlement walkway.

  "Hey, come over here and look at this." His voice was filled with awe.

  She recognized the tone and knew she was about to learn more than she ever wanted to know about battlements. She carefully picked her way over the rough stones and dutifully bent to see the holes.

  "See these?"

  Katherine nodded, trying her best to look fascinated.

  "They're called machicolations. They're for dropping things on your enemies."

  "Boiling oil?" she asked dryly.

  Jeff ignored her sarcasm and enthusiastically continued his explanation. "More likely hot water or stones. Anyway, what's cool about these is the way they're designed. See, if you look over the side of the wall..." In his excitement, he hung himself halfway over the retaining wall, his upper body dangling upside down in midair, demonstrating his point with dizzying effect. "... you can see that the battlement is actually built out over the tower."

  Katherine swallowed nervously and peered cautiously over the crenellated wall. The ground below her blurred. She drew back quickly, her breath coming in gasps.

  Jeff pulled himself upright. "I'm sorry, Kitty. I forgot about your fear of heights."

  Katherine stepped back from the wall. "It's not a fear of heights. It's a fear of falling. Vertigo. Anyway, I'm fine as long as I stay away from the edge." She smiled and gamely tried to change the subject. "So these machicohickies are unique to this tower?"

  Jeff needed little persuasion. "No, but tower houses of this kind were the first to extend stone battlements over the edge of the building. Pretty nifty trick. And they're called mach-i-co-la-tions."

  Mrs. Abernathy poked her head around the corner of the battlement. "If you're finished up here we can go downstairs."

  Katherine hurried to their hostess' side, anxious to have four tall walls and a ceiling around her again.

  "Not to worry, dear, I've no liking for the battlements myself. Although you must admit the view from here is rather spectacular."

  Katherine drank in the wild beauty of the Highlands. Beyond the tower itself she could see part of the river valley below and the scree-covered mountains rising on all sides. It was easy to see why Duncreag had been built on this outcropping of rock. It would have been almost impossible to attack.

  "Wow, Mrs. Abernathy, this is great. I can't wait to see what you have in store for us next." Jeff reached Katherine's side just as she turned to walk down the spiral stairs leading from the battlements. "Whoa, Kitty there's no door there." He grabbed her elbow, stopping her from careening into the stone wall.

  Katherine stared at the wall as if it would magically open, then shook her head and turned back to her brother and Mrs. Abernathy. "I could have sworn that's where the door was. Sorry."

  An odd, contemplative look passed across Mrs. Abernathy's face. "How strange. You see, there was a door there once. It led down to the second floor. But it was closed off many years ago. Insurance dictates, you know."

  Katherine felt her stomach lurch. "Was it open eight years ago, Mrs. Abernathy, when I was here before?"

  The older woman smiled. "Oh no, dear, it's been closed for more like twenty. I remember it open when I was a child. But that was a very long time ago, indeed." She shooed them back around the corner to an open door. "Actually, all the old stairways in the house have either been closed off or changed. We couldn't pass a fire inspection without the new ones, you see. The inspectors allow some latitude, but not enough to leave the old ones in place."

  She paused to draw a breath.

  "The house used to have five staircases. There was one on the outside to let you enter the great hall and one going down to the old cellar; that'd be our lobby stairs now. Then there were two in the great hall. One of them lead to the third floor and the other lead to the Laird's quarters on the second floor. You couldn't get to the family any other way. And then there was the staircase you thought you saw. It was just to allow the Laird access to the battlements. It opened off of one of the bedrooms on the second floor."

  As they descended, Mrs. Abernathy continued talking of staircases and battlements. Jeff followed close behind her, asking numerous questions. Katherine tuned them both out and tried to remember how she knew about the stairs on the second floor. Frustrated, she finally decided it must have been coincidence. She'd just been confused about the location of the door they'd used to reach the battlements.

  "Come right this way, lambs. I want to show you one of these rooms." Mrs. Abernathy walked through the small sitting room on the second floor to a wooden door set in a stone archway. She opened it with a flourish and stepped aside so that Jeff and Katherine could enter.

  "We left it the way it was originally so the guests could see. There've been repairs here and there, but it's structurally much as it would have been six hundred years ago. I thought you'd enjoy seeing it, Jeff."

  "Enjoy" was probably too mild a word. Katherine watched as Jeff stood in the middle of the room with his mouth hanging open. "Look at those beams." He pointed to the roof. "And the arch over the window." He walked to the small enclosure to examine it closer.

  Katherine walked over to the huge stone and plaster fireplace. An ornate hood hung out over the flue.

  "A bit much, isn't it? The plaster is a copy, but the stones are original."

  Katherine jumped at the sound of Mrs. Abernathy's voice. She was entirely too edgy. She needed sleep. Or a good therapist, her rational mind taunted.

  "I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to scare you." Mrs. Abernathy met her gaze, concern lighting her gentle eyes.

  "Oh no, you didn't really. You just startled me." Katherine fingered the earring on its chain and smiled at Mrs. Abernathy.

  "Is that a cairngorm I see?" Agnes reached out and lifted the earring carefully away from Katherine's chest for closer examination. "It's beautiful."

  She moved forward so that
Mrs. Abernathy could see it better. "Yes, it is. It's a family heirloom. My grandmother gave it to me. It's actually an earring. I lost the other one."

  "Ach, don't worry, love, things have a way of turning up when you least expect them."

  Katherine nodded. She saw no reason whatsoever to tell Mrs. Abernathy that the earring was likely lost somewhere in the distant past and therefore unlikely to turn up anywhere in this century.

  "Now, if we can tear Jeffrey away, I'd like to show you the wee museum we have off the great hall."

  Hearing his name, Jeff pulled himself away from the ashlar stone he was examining and obediently followed them from the room.

  *****

  The little museum was located in what had once been the chapel. Katherine could still see the stone basin carved into the wall, and across from it, in the window, the stone seat for the priest. At the far end of the room was a counter with some odds and ends on it. Behind the counter, on a high stool, sat a rotund little man with a ruddy face that could only be described as Scottish.

  "Jamie, my love, I've brought you the St. Claires. I've been showing them the tower and thought they might enjoy the museum."

  Mr. Abernathy lumbered down from his perch and ambled over to them. He beamed at his wife and then extended a hand to Jeff. "Jamie Abernathy. Delighted to have you here at Duncreag."

  Jeff took the offered hand. "Mr. Abernathy, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jeff, and this is my sister, Katherine."

  Mr. Abernathy turned and gave Katherine a portly bow. She winked and gave him a small curtsy. His laugh rolled out over the stone floor, filling the room with joy. "I see that you're a charmer, Miss St. Claire."

  "No more than you, Mr. Abernathy."

  "Well, love," Mrs. Abernathy interjected, "if you've quite finished with the introductions, I'll leave you with our guests and go and see what trouble Cook is up to in the kitchen." As Agnes spun to go, Jamie gave her a quick pinch on the behind. She threw him a look over her shoulder and left the three of them laughing.