Everything In Its Time

by Dee Davis

  "Maybe. It seems a little crazy, though. I mean, how would she have known that the box would make it to me? And why wouldn't she have noticed it herself?"

  Elaine studied the box. "We can theorize all we want, but I'm not sure we can definitively answer those questions. What if we assume, for now, that she wrote the poem knowing full well you'd find the box in this room?"

  "Well, if she did, then I'd say the poem is definitely a message of some kind. We just have to figure out what it's trying to tell us."

  *****

  Elaine rubbed a hand wearily over her eyes. "We must have read this thing a hundred times and we still aren't any closer to understanding it. Perhaps it really is just a poem."

  "No, I still think there's more to it. Maybe we're making it too hard." Jeff sat on the window seat studying the poem. "Maybe the answer is staring us in the face and we're just not seeing it." He forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply, trying valiantly to contain his frustration.

  "Okay. We're assuming Katherine wrote this for you." Elaine sat on Katherine's bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Was there some sort of code you used as kids? If so, maybe she used it."

  Jeff audibly blew out a breath. "The only one I can think of involved capital letters."

  "You mean the capitalized letters make up the words of the message?"

  "Something like that. In our case, we let the entire capitalized word be a part of the message." He looked down at the piece of paper. "There are some oddly capitalized words here. Wouldn't it be amazing if it was that simple?"

  " 'A blinding glimpse of the obvious.' "

  "What?"

  "Nothing, just something my dad used to say." She picked up the pad and pencil from the table. "Which words are capitalized? I'll write them down if you'll read them out."

  "Okay. Let's see. Our. Ivy. Tree. Stony. Ledge. House. Quest. Three. North. West."

  "Well, that doesn't make much sense. Maybe if we break it down." Elaine chewed on the end of the pencil. "How about 'our ivy tree' together, then 'stony ledge house'. 'Three north west' seems to fit together, but that leaves 'quest' by itself." She paused looking at Jeff for input.

  "Maybe quest is meant to tell us what we're doing. You know, going on a quest." Lord, this was like finding a needle in a haystack—a five-hundred-year-old haystack.

  "Works for me. Three northwest sounds like a direction. Hey, do you think we're going after buried treasure?" Elaine quipped.

  "Probably not." Their gazes met, and Jeff tried for a smile but only managed to grimace.

  She shrugged apologetically and looked back at the pad. " 'Stony ledge house.' This may be oversimplifying, but Duncreag actually means 'fort of the crag' and a crag is a kind of rocky ledge. So maybe 'stony ledge house' is Duncreag?"

  "Have I told you lately how grateful I am for your Scottish heritage?" Hope blossomed suddenly in Jeff's heart. Maybe they were finally getting somewhere. "Okay, so we have a place and a direction of some sort, but no clue as to where the message actually is."

  "What about 'our ivy tree'? Does it mean anything to you?"

  "Maybe. I'm not sure. It might be a reference to a book. One winter Katherine was really into this author, Mary Stewart. Kitty read every book she wrote, but her favorite was The Ivy Tree."

  "What was it about?" She cocked her head to one side, waiting for his answer.

  "I never actually read it, but it had something to do with lovers who had a secret place, a hole in an ivy-covered tree, where they left messages for each other."

  "So it could be a reference to a message?"

  "Actually, I think it's more than that. Remember, it says 'our ivy tree'. Kitty thought it would be fun if we had a secret place for messages. But it was the middle of winter, and we didn't have an ivy-covered tree, anyway."

  Elaine made a circling motion with her hand, indicating her impatience. "So? What did you do instead?"

  "We decided to use Gram's fireplace. There was a loose brick, a perfect hiding place for our messages. In fact, if I remember correctly, it was the seventh brick on the left." He jumped up. "That's got to be it. There must be a message in the fireplace."

  "But which fireplace?"

  "Oh. I don't know." He sat again, his enthusiasm fading as quickly as it had come.

  "Well, at least we know that we're on a quest, at Duncreag, for a message in a fireplace. And we still have the directions."

  "You're right. I forgot. Three northwest." He blew out a breath. "That could mean a lot of things."

  "Let's try breaking it down. Any ideas what the three could mean?"

  "Maybe a room number?"

  "Could be, but that would eliminate the need for the northwest." She twirled a lock of hair absently around one finger. "No, it's got to be something more. How about a floor number? The old tower is rectangular, and there's a room in each of the corners. So maybe it means third floor, the room in the northwest corner."

  "It's worth a try. Let's go."

  Elaine jumped to her feet. "I'm right behind you."

  *****

  "Great. We're back where we started from." Jeff lay on the floor of the upstairs parlor, his feet propped up on a chair, feeling as though they'd done nothing but waste their time. Why was everything always a damned dead-end?

  "I really thought we were on the right track. I can't believe there was never a fireplace in that room." Elaine sat cross-legged on the sofa, her face scrunched up in frustration.

  "I should have guessed. A lot of these old places had flues so big that they actually heated the walls they ran through, eliminating the need for a fireplace in the upper rooms. Architecturally speaking, it's pretty neat."

  "Yes, well, it leaves us nowhere."

  "Wait, I just had a thought." He sat up, his gaze meeting hers. "We were on the third floor of a Scottish tower, right?"

  "Right. But what's that got to do with the price of tea in China?" Elaine's eyebrow's shot up in obvious confusion.

  He held up a hand. "Just bear with me. If this building was in America, that would have been the fourth floor. Wouldn't it?"

  "I get it. An American might make the mistake of calling the ground floor the first floor."

  "Which would make this the third floor."

  Elaine gasped. "We were on the wrong floor."

  "Exactly."

  "So that," Elaine pointed to a wooden door, "would be the northwest room."

  Jeff jumped up, excitement making his heart pound. "We were in there a couple of days ago. Mrs. Abernathy took us on a tour. I was fascinated with the beams. They're really old. Anyway, Kitty wasn't interested. She just stood by the fireplace."

  They crossed the room, and swung open the door. Standing together they looked at the massive stone and plaster structure. "Mrs. Abernathy said the stones were original and Katherine must have remembered." His stomach was doing hand stands. "This is it, Elaine."

  Walking over to the fireplace, he started counting stones. The first few tries yielded nothing but firmly embedded rock.

  "It could have been repaired," Elaine offered.

  Jeff ignored her, continuing to investigate the stones, a sense of urgency almost overwhelming him. He reached up to a row of masonry just even with his head. Carefully counting over seven from the left, he tried to move the corresponding stone. It wiggled. "This one's moving." He jimmied the stone from its place and carefully lowered it to the floor, his eyes drawn immediately back to the gaping black hole above him.

  "Can you reach it?" Elaine's voice was breathless, barely more than a whisper.

  Jeff swallowed. "I think so." Balancing himself against the wall, he rose on tiptoe and reached carefully into the hole. At first, he felt nothing but the surrounding stones. Then, way in the back, his hand closed around an object. "There's something here."

  "Can you get it?"

  He nodded and slowly pulled it out. It was flat and wrapped in wax-covered material, brittle and hardened with age. There was a frayed ribbon tied around it.
"We should open this in the other room. The light is better there."

  Elaine nodded, her eyes riveted on the package in his hands. They walked slowly into the parlor and settled side by side on the sofa. With shaking hands, Jeff pulled the ribbon free and removed the covering.

  The parchment was yellowed with age, the writing faded, but still legible.

  "It's in English." Elaine leaned closer, whispering the words as though even sound might destroy the fragile paper.

  Jeff nodded and read the first line. 'My dearest Jeff...' He looked up at Elaine, his heartbeat accelerating. "It's from Katherine."

  Chapter 16

  KATHERINE LEANED AGAINST the framework of the doorway, watching the boy in the bed. William sat propped against his pillows. His cheeks were flushed, two bright spots of color interrupting an otherwise pale face. A large ruddy-faced woman sat by the bedside intently trying to feed him what looked to be broth. If the woman's bright red tresses were any indication, this would certainly be Bride, William's mother. The woman, spying Katherine, beamed at her.

  "Come in, come in. I was just trying to coax me boy to eat." She offered William the spoon. With a grumble of embarrassment, he pushed it away.

  "I'm no' a wee babe, Ma. I can feed myself." He demonstrated his point by taking the spoon and slurping a few mouthfuls of soup. "See?"

  The woman smiled at Katherine. "He's no' babe, 'tis for certain, but he'll always be his mother's child." She patted William's cheek. He grimaced and rolled his eyes. Katherine suppressed a smile. Relationships between mothers and sons were obviously pretty much the same, whatever the century.

  Bride jumped from the stool and stood by it nervously, as if suddenly realizing the Queen was in the room. Katherine looked back at the door to see if someone else had entered. The doorway was empty. She turned back to Bride, trying not to show her confusion.

  "Look at me sitting here babbling on while ye stand. Please, my Lady, take this seat."

  "Oh, Bride, no. You sit with your son. I'm the one who's interrupting. I just stopped by to see how William's doing."

  "But 'tis no' proper for me to sit while the Lady of Duncreag stands." Worry clouded her normally cheerful face.

  Understanding dawned. This was all about being Iain's wife. Katherine realized there were probably a lot of things she needed to learn about proper protocol in these times. Seeing that Bride's consternation would not be lessened until she sat, Katherine gave in and took the offered seat. "Thank you, Bride."

  Bride's face perked up immediately. She nodded happily as though all was again right with the world. " 'Tis happy we all are that the Laird has taken a wife. But I'm especially pleased. Ye saved my son's life, there's no doubt about it. I'll forever be in yer debt."

  "I didn't do that much, really." Katherine ducked her head in embarrassment at the woman's earnest praise. She supposed that by fifteenth-century standards, William's recovery was nothing short of miraculous, but still she felt a bit of a fraud knowing that all she'd really done was thoroughly wash both the boy and the wound. "I just cleaned him up a bit."

  " 'Twas more than that, and well ye know it. And now you've come for a wee visit with me boy." She beamed at them.

  "Hello, William. You look much better today." Katherine laid a hand on his forehead. It was slightly warm, but nothing compared with his earlier fever. "Your fever is still down. That's good."

  "I am feeling better, thanks to you." William looked up at Katherine, youthful adoration shining from his eyes.

  "I'm glad I could help. But you did all the hard work. It was your own strength that saved you."

  William threw his shoulders back, puffing up with pride. "The leg still pains me, but no' enough to warrant all this bed rest."

  "You need to stay in bed a while longer. It's important for you to regain your full strength before you try and use that leg. I've asked Iain to have someone make you a crutch. But for the time being, I think it would be a fine idea for you to stay in bed." Katherine lifted a hand in anticipation of William's protest. "At least for the rest of today, and possibly tomorrow. You don't want to tear your stitches. Promise me."

  William crossed his arms over his chest with a pout, changing with a gesture from man to boy. "All right. I'll stay abed. But only because you ask it."

  Bride moved to take the bowl and spoon. " 'Tis rest ye need now. Close yer eyes. I'll be back this evening."

  William turned to Katherine with a sheepish grin. "Would you stay with me? Just 'til I fall asleep?"

  "William, I'm sure our Lady has more important things to do than sit with ye." Bride smiled apologetically at Katherine.

  Katherine reached for William's hand. "It isn't a bother at all. I'd be glad to stay with you, William. Now close your eyes and try to rest." He beamed at her and then settled into the soft bed, his eyes drifting closed, his hand still holding hers.

  Bride pushed a stray red curl back from her son's face. "Well, I must be off. There's much to do this day." She looked first at Katherine and then at her sleeping son. "May the Lord bless you. I know that I do." With that she left the room, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  Katherine sat in the quiet room, letting the morning sunlight warm her back. She felt her eyes grow heavy, and finally, giving in to the urge to rest, leaned her head against the side of the bed. Her thoughts turned to Iain. He had left with the first morning light. Off with Ranald, handling some sort of pressing business. She struggled to remember where he was. He'd said something about cows, but she'd been too sleepy to listen properly. No matter, she thought, and smiled dreamily. She'd be with him soon enough.

  *****

  "Katherine? Katherine? Where are you?"

  The voice rang through the solar outside William's room. Katherine sat up, shaking off her lethargy. It wouldn't do to have William awakened. She glanced at the boy, satisfied that he was still sleeping. Not willing to have anyone disturb him, she slipped from the room, hoping to find the source of the noise before it bellowed again.

  "Katherine?"

  Katherine winced at the shrill sound. She recognized the voice. Sorcha. A small tingle of worry shot up her spine. Sorcha would never risk bothering William unless something was dreadfully wrong.

  "There you are." Sorcha barreled into the solar from the direction of Katherine and Iain's bedroom. Her face was drawn and she was out of breath, puffing as though she'd been running. "I've been looking for you everywhere. You must come quickly."

  Katherine felt her chest tighten. The thin needles of worry changed to waves of fear. "What is it, Sorcha? What's wrong?"

  The woman clutched at Katherine, her bony fingers grasping the flesh of her upper arm. " 'Tis Iain—he's been hurt. You must come."

  The fear turned to dread. "Where is he? What's happened?"

  Sorcha drew a deep gulping breath. "He's in the glen at the bottom of the rise. He fell and hit his head. 'Tis verra bad, and he's asking for you."

  "Oh, God. I'll come at once. Is Ranald with him?"

  "Aye, I think so. I've no' seen him, only had word from the wee lad sent to fetch you. Hurry, I beg you."

  Lifting her skirts in both hands, Katherine followed Sorcha down the stairs. She stopped in the great hall.

  Sorcha pulled her forward. "Come, now quickly. I'll show you the way."

  Katherine ran behind her, panic licking through her like hot flames. Oh dear God, she prayed, please let him be okay. As they reached the main gate, Sorcha drew her off to the left. "Follow me. This way is quicker."

  Sorcha led her to an opening in the wall that was little more than a hole.

  "Help me with this door."

  With great effort, the two women swung the heavy door open. Katherine ducked to follow Sorcha, brushing at cobwebs as she passed through the short tunnel. Once on the other side, she hesitated as Sorcha veered away from the main pathway, instead taking a route that seemed to drop straight down the mountainside.

  "It only looks steep. It switches back and forth. 'Tis
a much faster way than the other."

  Katherine nodded and plunged after her. Rocks and tree roots jutted out of the stony path at every turn. She stumbled once, only just managing to keep her balance. The trees were getting thicker, blocking the sunlight and giving the forest floor a gloomy cast. She glanced behind her, but could no longer see Duncreag.

  "Are you sure we're on the right path?"

  "Aye, we're almost there," Sorcha called to Katherine over her shoulder, not pausing in her flight. "Hurry, child."

  Katherine's breath was coming in gasps. She marveled at the stamina of the older woman. Obviously, living in the Highlands kept one in good physical condition. She tried not to dwell on thoughts of Iain. There was nothing she could do at the moment but get to him as quickly as possible. She spurred herself onward, ignoring the burning pain of her fatiguing muscles.

  Suddenly, the trees opened and Katherine found herself in a small meadow. She searched the tall grass for signs of Iain, but the clearing appeared to be empty.

  "I don't understand. Is this the place? There's nobody here."

  Sorcha stepped back a pace, moving away from Katherine, her eyes scanning the trees on the far side of the meadow. "Nay, this is the place. Perhaps they are o'er there just in the trees. I think I see movement."

  Katherine placed her hand over her brows, shading her eyes.

  "Don't dawdle, child. Hurry."

  Katherine needed no further urging. She picked up her skirts and ran toward the trees, her only thought to reach Iain.

  Suddenly a huge black horse burst from the thicket, his rider also dressed in black. Together, they looked like the devil incarnate. Startled, Katherine slid to a halt, and whirled around to ask what Sorcha made of the intruder. Her stomach lurched. The clearing was empty. Sorcha was gone. Terrified now she spun around again, her mind scrambling to make sense of this latest turn of events. The rider was closing quickly. Her heart in her throat, she screamed and began to run.

  Adrenaline coursed through her body, giving her energy she hadn't known she possessed. She hiked her skirts even higher, freeing more of her legs, and dashed for the safety of the woods. If she could just reach cover. She could feel the vibrations of the thundering horse behind her.