Everything In Its Time

by Dee Davis

  Just a few more yards. She stared at the line of trees, willing herself there. She stumbled and fell, then lurched back to her feet, oblivious to any pain the fall might have inflicted. Her mind sang a litany. "The trees, the trees, the trees ..." Just a few more feet.

  Suddenly Katherine was blinded as something thick and heavy dropped over her head. She screamed and tore against the darkness, trying to disentangle herself from this newest threat. She struggled to see, to breathe, as she felt something solid and strong tighten about her waist, lifting her up into the air. She kicked out savagely, and was gratified to hear a grunt of pain. She tried to twist away from the binding arm. But it only tightened as it slung her over the saddle, facedown. She was so startled that she froze, her blood rushing to her head.

  She struggled to control her terror, feeling the bile rise in her throat. She couldn't see a thing. The coarse material that bound her rubbed against her face, restricting her breathing. She decided it must be a sack or a cloak of some sort. Working to slow her breathing, she tried to calm down so that she could think.

  Her body jostled and jerked with each movement of the horse. Her head banged against something hard, a leg. She winced and gagged at the smell of rank human flesh. She tried again to kick, to strike out at her captor, her desire for freedom overriding any caution. But the grip on her middle only tightened, threatening to completely cut off her ability to breathe. She stopped moving, realizing struggle was useless. She'd save her strength. Surely, some means of escape would present itself.

  Again, her head slammed against something hard, this time the horse's flank, judging from the smell. She tried to gather her wits, but between the ride and her position she felt dizzy and more than a little nauseous. Willing herself not to vomit, Katherine fought against the black-ness that threatened to overtake her. However, it was becoming more difficult with each passing second as the horse increased its gait, her neck snapping with the force of the motion, sending sharp bolts of pain shooting down her back.

  She worked to focus, to keep her mind alert. She thought of Iain, picturing his strong handsome face. Where was he? She had seen no sign of anyone, save the rider who held her now. Had he been the one to hurt Iain? No. Her foggy mind struggled to think clearly. No. Sorcha had mentioned a fall. Iain must simply be in another clearing. Or perhaps he wasn't badly injured after all and was already back at Duncreag.

  But where was Sorcha? Surely she had escaped. The clearing had been empty. Even as she rejoiced at the thought that Sorcha could be safe, a second thought pounded into her brain. What if there was another rider? What if Sorcha had been captured, too? Or even worse, what if Sorcha was dead? She felt her stomach churning again. She swallowed, trying to breathe slowly and evenly, hoping that would ease her rising panic.

  Suddenly, the horse stumbled, and Katherine was jerked forward and then slammed back into the hard-muscled leg of her captor. She felt the blackness edging closer, trying to rob her of any chance for escape. She shook her head, trying to clear it, trying to think, ignoring the searing pain in her back. She had to believe that Iain was all right. Even with a serious injury, he'd find a way to come for her. He'd never let her go. She just had to hang on until Iain came.

  Her heart suddenly turned to ice, an unwelcome thought gripping her. She held her breath, as bleak reality tore through her, taking with it all her fanciful dreams of rescue. If Sorcha was dead, Iain would have absolutely no way to find her. No one except Sorcha had seen her leave Duncreag. Choking back a sob, she closed her eyes, her strength gone. With a sigh, she drifted into the waiting arms of darkness.

  *****

  "Tell me again what happened." Iain glared at his aunt, barely containing his temper. A fury born of intense fear writhed inside him, threatening to override his ability to think clearly. He glanced over at Alasdair and Ranald, sitting at the edge of the inquisition, watching in grim silence. Fergus stood by the great hearth, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Sorcha sat hunched on the bench, her eyes clouded with fatigue. "I dinna know what else I can tell you, lad. I've been o'er the tale time and again."

  "Then tell me again." Iain's roar filled the hall, a mixture of anguish and rage. Sorcha flinched, shrinking back.

  "Easy, lad, there's no need to be harsh with your aunt. 'Twas no' her fault." Fergus placed a hand on Iain's shoulder. He shook it off.

  "I've a need to hear it once more. Maybe there is something I missed."

  She pushed a weary hand through her graying hair. "All right. Again." She drew a deep breath. "I saw Katherine leaving Duncreag by the wee gate in the west wall. And I was worried she might come to some harm. So I followed her to see that she didna get lost." Sorcha looked to Fergus for support. He nodded at her reassuringly.

  "I supposed she had just gone a-wandering to enjoy the spring morning. I dinna want to disturb her, so I stayed back, out of sight. We came to the wee clearing at the bottom of the rise. She was intent upon picking wildflowers, so I sat in the shelter of the trees and watched."

  "Why did you no' speak to her?"

  "I told you, I had no wish to intrude."

  Iain bit back a curse. What had the woman been thinking? She should never have let Katherine go off alone. He swallowed his anger, maintaining control only through sheer willpower. "Go on."

  "The rider came out of nowhere. He was wearing a plaid of reds and grays with maybe a wee bit of white." She shrugged. "It all happened verra quickly. I had no time to get a closer look. I jumped up and tried to scream a warning, but my voice was lost in the noise the great beast of a horse made. By the time I was on my feet, the rider had Katherine thrown over the horse, bound in some sort of blanket or plaid."

  "So you ran away and left her?" Iain bit the words out, clenching his fists, a muscle in his jaw tightening, beginning to twitch.

  "Nay, lad, I came for you. There was naught I could do for your Katherine, save be captured myself. So I ran back here to get help. But you were no' here." The words hung in the air almost like an accusation.

  Iain pushed his hair back, anxiety replacing his anger. "I know." His voice cracked with despair, and black, oily guilt rolled through him like a fog, threatening to consume him.

  Fergus tried again to reach him. "Let your aunt get some rest now. There's naught more you can learn this night."

  Iain sighed, admitting defeat. He was faced with the reality that he was no closer now to discovering who had taken his beloved wife then he had been when Sorcha had first told her tale. He inclined his head, releasing his aunt. Fergus took Sorcha's hand and pulled her up, placing an arm around her shoulders as he led her from the hall.

  "What are you planning to do?" Ranald's quiet voice was filled with concern.

  "I've no thought." Iain stared into the flickering gold flames of the fire.

  " 'Tis the Macphersons, from the sound of it." Alasdair took a seat on the bench.

  "Aye."

  "If it were my wife, I'd already be in pursuit." Alasdair's voice was soft, but the criticism was clear.

  Iain swung around, his fists clenched. "But 'tis no' your wife."

  Alasdair held up a hand. "A pity that, but I meant no offense."

  Iain threw himself into a chair, pain wracking his entire body. "I think 'tis best if we wait. There is naught to be gained from blundering around in the dark. And there might still be some word."

  "Are you thinking a ransom then?" Fergus said as he strode back into the hall, coming to stand with his back to the fire.

  "Aye, 'tis possible. But if we hear nothing tomorrow, we'll ride the following day."

  "I'll prepare the men. I've convinced Sorcha to lie down, but I dinna think she'll sleep tonight." He squinted, fixing his dour gaze on Alasdair. "So, mon, will you be riding with us then?"

  "Nay. I'd like to, but I must see to my own holding. And there is the question of Ailis' safety. We'll ride for Tùr nan Clach with the sunrise. Would it help if I left some of the men I brought with me?"

  Iain stud
ied Alasdair, considering his offer. Finally he shook his head. "Nay, 'tis best you travel with a full guard. I would no' want your sister to lack adequate protection on my account."

  "Well then, if you dinna mind, I will go and seek my men. There is much to do to prepare for our departure." Alasdair stood. "I wish you luck with the Macphersons."

  Iain watched as he walked away. "I'm just as glad he'll no' be coming with us. We'd have had our backs to watch as well as worrying about the Macphersons."

  Fergus snorted an agreement.

  "Fergus, send two men to the Macphersons' holding. Tell them to try and find out what they can without letting on why they are there."

  "I'd best take my leave then. I'll wait until Alasdair finishes with his men before I send anyone—ye canna be too careful about who you trust. And while I'm at it, I'll see that Davidson's lads dinna leave with more than they came with. Good night to ye."

  Ranald absently raised a hand in farewell.

  Iain hunched over in his chair, arms braced on his knees, head in hands.

  "We'll find her, Iain."

  Iain lifted his head, feeling his anguish manifest itself in every movement. "Aye, Ranald, but in what condition will she be? She is no' used to the harshness of our time." He buried his head in his hands again. "I'm no' much of a man, am I, if I let this happen?"

  "You dinna 'let' it happen, Iain—it just happened. You canna control everything, cousin. There are forces at work out there that no one can control. You, of all people, should well understand that."

  "But I promised to protect her, Ranald. What kind of husband am I, if I canna even keep my promises?"

  "A loving one. Katherine knows you would give your life for her. And she'll no' hold you responsible for this."

  Iain sat back, slamming his fist against the arm of the chair. "I swear I will find her, and if she is no' unharmed I will avenge her, if it takes the last of my breath to do it." That said, he collapsed against the chair, feeling his rage evaporate, leaving in its place an agony soul-deep. He felt the unfamiliar prick of tears. He hadn't cried since his mother's death.

  He struggled to keep his emotions in check, but a sudden vision of Katherine suffering and alone was his undoing. He looked at Ranald, tears coursing down his face. "I canna live without her. I canna."

  Chapter 17

  My dearest Jeff,

  How I wish I could see you, talk to you. You've always been my lifeline, my pillar. I find it hard to accept sometimes that I will never see you again. It is my one hope that this letter, despite the odds, will reach you. I've tried to find ways to let you know that I am here and alive. Did you see the portrait? I thought the scar as good a message as any. I'm probably being silly—I realize the chances of you ever seeing it or this letter are slim. But it helps me to know that I tried. The subterfuge is due to the fact that my husband must never find this letter. He has no idea where I'm from and if he were to find out... well, I shudder at the thought. We'll leave it at that. But I've started in the middle of the story, haven't I? Let me try it from the beginning.

  As you have probably guessed, I did find my way back to Iain. My Iain. Oh Jeff, he was the most wonderful man—everything I could ever have hoped for, and there are times even now that I think I will die from wanting him. I loved him more than I thought it possible to love someone. And the most wonderful miracle of all is that he loved me too. The time I spent with him was the best of my life. Without those days and the memories they invoke, I could not have survived all that has happened since.

  Shortly after my arrival at Duncreag, 1 was kidnapped. Even after all this time, I am still not completely certain what happened. I have no idea where I was held, only that it was a ruin of some kind. Alasdair says they were Macphersons, horrible men with a holding somewhere to the southeast of Duncreag. Iain tried to rescue me and was killed in the attempt. I never even knew about it until after my release. I still sometimes dream that I am with him at the end. Holding him. Telling him how much I love him. And after all this time, it still hurts, the pain of his loss unrelenting.

  A short time after Iain's death, Alasdair obtained my release. He ransomed me and brought me back here to Duncreag. Alasdair Davidson is, or was, a neighbor of Iain's. His holding borders Duncreag to the south.

  My captivity was horrifying. I won't write the details, as they are best forgotten, but they taught me just how harsh life in the fifteenth century is for a woman, especially a pregnant one.

  Alasdair runs Duncreag now. I've never been clear on exactly how he managed to come to control it, and I'm not sure I'd like the answers if 1 had them. But it suits me to be here. Somehow, I feel closer to Iain. Anyway, after he brought me here, Alasdair insisted I become his wife. I have no love for him. He is pompous and arrogant and not always kind. But as I said, life in these times is harsh, and marriage means security. When I realized I was carrying Iain's child, I knew that I needed that security, no matter what the cost. So I married Alasdair—and with little effort (he is a vain man) convinced him that Iain's daughter was his.

  Anna is the light of my life. Her eyes are her father's, green as an emerald. She is beautiful and sweet-natured, with just a hint of mischief now and then. She is almost eight, still a little girl, but beginning to hint of the young woman she'll become. Sometimes when I look at her, I see her father and I know that it has all been worth it. I have managed to survive here and provide a safe home for my child. And if I were given the chance to do it all again, I would. Those few precious days with Iain were better than a lifetime without him. And they gave me the opportunity to bear his child, my beautiful Anna. The rest is such a small price for knowing such joy, even briefly.

  So, I guess all of this makes me the lady of the legend. Wouldn't Gram have been amazed to know that? I still have the cairngorms. Iain had the other one. The one I thought was forever lost. He found it and wore it always, to remember me and that night so long ago. He gave it back to me on the night we married. I wear them now in his memory.

  Quite an exciting life I've led, traveling back centuries in time and marrying two men. Oh, Jeff, if only it had been different, if only Iain had lived. But listen to me, feeling sorry for myself. I made my bed, didn't I? .

  I plan to give the earrings to Anna when she's older. I'll tell her the whole story then, all about her mother's adventures. I'll tell her about her father and how much her parents loved each other. I'll tell her, too, how much her father would have loved her, had he lived. And of course, I'll tell her about her uncle Jeff. But for now, she is still too young to understand. And I dare not risk Alasdair's finding out.

  So the legend has come full circle. The earrings will again be passed down through the generations. For whatever it's worth, you can be proud to know you carry Mackintosh blood and not Davidson. It's odd to think that as you read this Iain, Anna, and I will have been dead for more than five hundred years. I pray that this letter finds you, if for no other reason than to know that I thought of you always.

  Know, Jeff, how very much I love you. And know, too, that I miss you. I did try to cross back when Alasdair brought me here after my release. But the door must have closed with Iain's death, or perhaps my connection to it died with him. Anyway, whatever the reason, it seems I can never get home again. And of course, now I'd never leave Anna.

  I wish you happiness and, of course, love. Maybe things will work out (or have worked out) for you and Elaine. She loves you, you know. And I think perhaps you have feelings for her too. You just have to take the time to examine them. Jeff, please remember that life is short and chances at happiness are fleeting. Whatever you do, take every opportunity to live a long and happy life. And think of me sometimes.

  All my love,

  Kitty

  Jeff lifted his head, meeting Elaine's tearful gaze. Her tears were a physical echo of the overwhelming grief that rocked through the depths of his soul.

  "At least she had a little time with him. And it sounds like that Alasdair fellow isn't too terr
ible. I mean, he did rescue her." Elaine met his gaze, her eyes seeming to beg him for confirmation of her words.

  "I don't know what to think. I have never felt so helpless in my life." Jeff carefully placed the letter on the table. It seemed frail and out of place. "I keep thinking this is a nightmare and that any minute I'll wake up. When our parents died, I swore I would take care of her, Elaine. She was just a little kid."

  Elaine bit her lip, tears still glistening in her eyes. "You weren't so big yourself. And you did take care of her."

  "But not now." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his chest tightening with agony. "Elaine, I didn't even believe her. I let her go off to God knows where without a second thought, believing that the whole thing was the plot from an episode of Star Trek." He stood up and walked to the window, his hands braced on the walls on either side.

  "Katherine is grown up now, Jeff. And as much as she loves you, she's perfectly capable of making her own choices."

  He felt her hand on his shoulder, the touch soft, timid. He turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers. "Katherine is dead, Elaine. That couldn't have been a good decision."

  "But she had Iain, at least for a little while—and Anna. That's something, isn't it? A part of Iain?"

  "I don't want her to have had any of it." He slammed his hand into the wall. Elaine flinched, her eyes mirroring his pain. "I want her here. In this world, in this time, with me. Damn it. I want my sister." He felt Elaine's arms close around him, and tipped his head against hers, allowing himself a moment of self pity. Then, with a concerted effort, he pushed away, firmly in control again. "I won't leave her there. I can't leave her there."

  Elaine brushed at her tears, a spark of anger lighting her eyes. "And just what exactly is it you think you're going to do, Jeff? Ride to her rescue? It's not like you can go get her."