Chapter 16

16

D ouglas lay on his back, squinting up at the sun. The sun didn’t come out much here in the fall, but of course it would decide to burst through the thick clouds at the very moment his back hit the ground. Between the sweat and dirt and now the sun’s light in his eyes, he really couldn’t tell who stood over him and whether or not a weapon was drawn. Now spots appeared before his eyes and he tried to draw a breath into his bruised chest.

Pushing his hair back from his face, Douglas attempted to lift his head without much success. Aindreas would surely strike the death blow now. He closed his eyes and waited.

“’Tis no’ the time for a nap now, Douglas. Only bairns and the eldren hiv the time for sleeping.”

It was Aindreas.

The man had turned into a monster today in the training yard, demanding more than he thought he had to give. Normally, Douglas would spar with a few of the younger soldiers, have a round or two against Aindreas and his second-in-command with his sword or quarterstaff and be done. Not so today.

As soon as he had warmed up with the sword, Aindreas was on the attack. Blow after blow rained down on him, forcing him to defend himself vigorously. He blocked and blocked until his arms felt like huge anchors. Finally, as he stepped backwards to fend off another well-aimed and powerful strike, he tripped and went down hard onto the unforgiving ground .

“Ye insult me and my men wi’ yer lack of effort.” Aindreas reached down and offered a hand to him. He took it and was on his feet a second later.

“My lack of effort? I have been here every day working with you.” Using his arm and the back of his hand, Douglas wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Ye call this working? Ye parry and thrust like a man on a stage. Ye play at this and I will no’ accept that from any MacKendimen, no’ even a visitor.”

Douglas heard the insult in the man’s voice, in the way he said visitor as though he wanted to clear his mouth and spit it out. He picked up the dropped sword and swung it once more, never breaking eye contact with the warrior standing before him.

Aindreas was correct. He had been playing at this, at everything he did here. He was simply biding his time until he could return home. The problem was, of course, when that would happen. Other than that one cryptic comment, Moira never again mentioned it. Oh, he’d asked her countless times but she would give him that damned smile and say she knew nothing until the wisdom was shared with her—whatever the hell that meant.

He’d heard her speak of “the wisdom” with Caitlin. Others in the clan had also spoken of her way of “kenning the future,” but he dismissed that the same way he’d dismissed Caitlin’s claim of healing with her touch. These simple people just didn’t understand how things truly worked, so they chose to believe in supernatural ways of knowing and doing things.

But until Aindreas spoke today, Douglas had not thought about the repercussions of holding back. He did a disservice to the whole clan, himself included. The truth hurt and Douglas reeled at its sting, both to his pride and to his beliefs. He would have to think about this more. Maybe his approach was wrong.

“Go, now, Douglas,” Aindreas said without anger. “Return to this field only when ye are truly ready to give yer all. The clan deserves nothing less.”

Unable to answer the challenge, Douglas turned and handed his sword off to one of the boys who were there to assist with the weapons. At Aindreas’ nod, Douglas walked off the field and headed for the castle’s gate. Some time alone would be the best thing for him right now.

He found the archway completely by accident. After spending some hours by the lake, he came back toward the castle on a path that was different from the one he usually used. He noticed it when the sun’s setting rays exposed it. The path was overgrown near the lake but opened a bit farther up. Now he approached the castle wall and it didn’t look familiar.

But the feeling he experienced felt very familiar. A wave of anxiety raced through him and he heard the buzzing of insects around him. It was then that he saw her—Moira ducking through the bushes toward the wall near him. He waited for her to pass and then followed her silently.

For a moment when he found her in front of the arch, he was completely confused. Even though he knew it was Moira, he felt just as certain that Mairi now stood before him. He shook his head and it was clearly Moira once more.

She stood close enough to touch the arch but her hand never rested on the stones. With her head bowed, she reached out toward the opening of the arch and he heard only some mumbled words.

Then the unbelievable happened, right in front of him. Smoke began to pour through the arch. But there was no fire or torch to cause it. And, it came out and not through!

Moira raised her head and stared into the arch. Her head moved as though she was watching something in the arch. All he could see was the smoke and every few seconds a burst of light would escape from the stone gateway.

Douglas began to shake, severe tremors passed through him, but he could not look away. His mind refused to accept what his eyes saw. Recognizing panic for what it was, Douglas forced his breathing to slow down. He concentrated on inhaling and exhaling, counting to himself while his mind still reeled. Soon he was almost back in control. When he looked at the arch, it was dark and quiet once more, no smoke or lights visible at all.

“There will be but one more to pass through the archway, Douglas.” Her voice cut through the darkness to him. She’d known he was there all along. “And nothing can happen until the day when the night reigns over the earth, when the sun is loosed for a few hours only. The full moon on the winter solstice will open the gateway through time again.”

“Moira, I, ah...” Douglas stuttered, not really knowing what he should say or what he wanted to say. Going home was a stronger possibility now even if the way he found out was completely unbelievable.

“Ye must go now, Douglas. Caitlin needs ye.”

“Caitlin? What’s the matter with her?”

“She is at Iain’s home. She needs ye now, Douglas, dinna delay.”

He took a few steps toward the arch and realized she was gone. He tried to get his bearings and began to run toward the castle’s gate. Passing it a few minutes later, he continued through the village until he found the place where Iain and Mildread lived. Stopping for a moment to try to catch his breath, Douglas was surprised when the door was opened for him by Iain.

“Please, Douglas help her. I ken what ye did for Bonnie’s lass. Can ye help Mildread now?”

His stomach began to turn at those words. He stepped into the cottage and saw Caitlin kneeling beside Mildread’s pallet near the fire. With one look, he could tell that the young mother was dead. Her eyes were open but glazed and long past feeling. From the absolute whiteness of her skin and her recent traumatic childbirth experience, he guessed she’d bled to death.

He must have made a noise for Caitlin noticed him and ran to him. Taking his hand she pulled him to the fire.

“Come, Douglas,” she whispered. “Ye must help her as ye did little Rose. Her heart has given up but I ken ye can make it beat once more.”

Her desperation tore at him, he wanted to take her in his arms and sob along with her. But surprisingly, Caitlin was clear-eyed and completely confident that he could perform the miracle she asked.

“Caitlin, I cannot do what you ask. You don’t understand, I can’t make someone live again.”

“Surely ye can, Douglas. I saw it happen. If ye would just make her heart beat again, I will try to heal the bleeding in her womb now.”

He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. She had such faith in him, and faith in her gifts, more than he ever had in himself. But she didn’t understand— he did not have the power of life and death in his hands. Oh, he had cheated death a few times and brought patients back from death’s door, but the final decision never lay in his hands.

What she had seen him do this morning was outside her experience and now she wanted him to repeat it. And Iain stood by waiting as well.

“Caitlin, sometimes if the heart has just stopped and the life is still there, I can start the beating again.” She nodded and looked at Mildread’s body and then back at him. “This is not one of those times. She is dead, Caitlin, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“If ye willna even try, then I will,” she cried and pulled from his grasp. Kneeling next to the dead woman, she tilted the head back and tried to blow into her mouth, the way he had into Rose’s. Because the position was wrong, it didn’t go in. Then she tried to perform the chest compressions of CPR and was again unsuccessful.

Douglas’s own heart ached for her. Caitlin had worked so hard to keep Mildread alive and now couldn’t face her death. He knew the experience well but he knew his feelings about losing a patient were nowhere near as deep as what Caitlin felt right now.

He stepped over behind her and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to her feet. He held her tighter as she struggled to get free of his hold.

“No, Caitlin, you cannot do anything else for her. She’s gone,” he whispered fiercely into her ear. She stilled and after a moment, she nodded .

“Ye can put me down now, Douglas. I must prepare her for burial.”

“Isn’t there someone else to do that, Caitlin?”

“And who would do it? I am her friend and will take care of it.”

He let her go slowly and watched as she approached Iain, now with words of comfort. The two of them knelt down and together they straightened Mildread’s covers and closed her eyelids over those sightless eyes.

Douglas waited nearby as Caitlin poured water from a pitcher near the fire into a bowl and began to wash her friend’s body. A few minutes later, the task was done and Caitlin was ready to leave. As they walked from the cottage, Caitlin stopped to speak to a small group that had gathered outside waiting. He’d not even seen them when he arrived but then he was thinking only about Caitlin.

“What will happen now?” he asked as they walked toward the edge of the village.

“Peigi has just given birth and can nurse the bairn for now. Iain’s sister will care for them while he is on duty.”

“And what about you, Caitlin? Who will care for you?” His words were a surprise to them both. She stopped and looked at him. It had been a stupid thing to do. Why ask when you don’t want to know the answer? Or if you already know and don’t want to hear it? He would be gone in two months’ time and that would end his involvement in her life. He should make as little a difference in it now as possible.

But, after today’s examination of conscience by the lake, he had to admit that he wanted to care for her. He wanted to be the one she turned to in time of need. He wanted to love her.

“My maither and faither care for me, Douglas. And the clan, too. We pull together in times of need.”

“And that’s how you’ll live? With your parents for the rest of your life?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. “Don’t you want a husband and family?”

She looked at him with bright but vacant eyes; too much had happened today for her to focus on his questions. Her friend was dead. She had given Mildread not just a healer’s care, she had given a part of herself trying to help the woman survive. And now that part of her was lost.

Douglas put his hands on each side of her face and smoothed her hair back away. He leaned down and kissed her forehead and then each cheek and, finally, he reached her lips. He didn’t mean to push himself on her, he offered her only comfort. After barely touching his lips to hers, he drew back and let his hands drop to her waist.

“I am truly sorry about Mildread, Caitlin. I wish there were something I could have done for her.” A tiny shiver of guilt walked down his spine. Was there something he could have done? In spite of being in a primitive time without any of his normal gear or technology, could he have helped if he hadn’t been so hell-bent on staying out of it?

“Nay, Douglas, ’twas nothing for ye to do about her. I was just, well, overwrought when I saw her and thought ye could help. ’Tis my fault she’s dead now—ye need no’ carry the guilt of her death.”

She was serious—she believed she was responsible for her friend’s death. That’s when he noticed that she was still completely calm, no tears in her eyes or on her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” He was worried about the way she was denying her grief in favor of guilt.

“I hivna followed Mildread as much as I promised her I would. I did hiv a new potion for her to try, but I dinna get it to her in time. And then, I waited too long to use my gift.”

“No, Caitlin, you did not cause her death. You did all you could to save her. I’ve watched you these past weeks— you give all you have to the people you treat, more than any doctor or nurse I’ve ever seen.” He pulled her closer until she rested her head on his chest. “The final decision is always in God’s hands, not ours. We can do all we can but there is a limit to our abilities.”

“Even yers?” she mumbled as she rubbed her head against him. It sent all kinds of sensations through him. And heat, too—definitely heat.

“Especially mine. I feel so very limited because my knowledge only works if I have the tools I use in my time. I haven’t learned to heal the way you do—by touch and smell and listening. We use tests, Caitlin, to find out the problem. Then we use—”

“Yer gadgets and tek-knoll-o-gee to heal people?” She raised her eyes to him once more.

He chuckled at the way she finished his sentence and by what she’d remembered from their talk weeks before. She had no concept of the miracles of modern technology. “That’s right, my gadgets and technology. We’ve... I’ve lost the true art of healing.”

“But touching is so important in healing,” she whispered. Her hands now slid from his chest up onto his shoulders, bringing them into closer contact.

“Yes,” he stammered, knowing he was losing his train of thought because of her closeness. All he could think about was touching her. Visions from the dreams returned and he saw her in that pool, in that cave again. Naked, waiting to touch and be touched. His hands itched with the need to feel her, to rub them on her bare skin, to explore her body. His mouth watered when he thought about tasting her, licking her, drawing her breast in his mouth.

The heat rose between them, he could feel its power and by the look in her eyes, Caitlin could, too.

“Aye, Douglas, let me show you about touching.” She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. He needed no more urging, his mouth covered hers and his lips rubbed against hers even as his hips did the same.

She opened to him and let his tongue sweep into her mouth. He touched and tasted and teased her tongue until she did the same to him. Barely a breath was taken as the kiss went on and on. As she pressed her belly to his, she took one of his hands and placed it on her breast. He opened his eyes in surprise. He was more startled when she spoke into his mouth.

“Touch me.”

He did. His palm slid over one breast and he caught the already hardened nipple between two of his fingers and pulled it gently. He felt her gasp against his lips. He smoothed the nipple with his palm and then tugged again on it, loving every moan she made. She thrust herself into his hand more with every stroke. He moved his hand to the other breast and repeated and repeated the motion until she was panting against his mouth.

He was not unaffected. His erection rubbed against her hips through only the layer of plaid he wore. Waves of heat poured over him and he pulsed with desire for her. He wanted her so badly. Too many years of waiting and too many dreams of her to hold back now.

Dear God, what was he doing? Shuddering with the effort, he reined in his desires tightly and lifted his mouth from hers. She was seeking comfort and he was offering her passion. With everything else that had happened today, the last thing she needed was another burden to her conscience. And this, passion without love, would be a burden to her. He knew that for certain.

“Caitlin, let me see you home.”

“No, Douglas, please....” She clutched his shirt trying to hold on. He took hold of her hands and peeled her off himself. He needed some space and some air between them to cool his ardor.

“Please stop for a moment and hear me. I want you, I want you very much as you can probably tell.” He paused and took a breath. “But if we continue and do what this will lead to now, we will be doing it for the wrong reasons.”

“I understand, Douglas, ye dinna want me....” She started to pull away but he held her close.

“Now, stop right there, Caitlin. It’s obvious you don’t. If you understood, you’d know how much I want to tear off your clothes, lay you down with me and kiss and taste and feel you until we can’t breathe. And how much I want to be inside you, so deep that I can feel the breaths you take, so deep that I’ll be a part of you and you me. And I want to make you moan and scream while I’m there.”

She looked at him with those green witch’s eyes and he saw her swallow deeply. She was an innocent with no idea of what he wanted to do. Maybe now she had an inkling?

“But, Caitlin, when we do those things I want it to be for the right reason. Not in answer to a plea for comfort over losing your friend. I want you to know exactly why I’m kissing and touching you when it happens.”

Her mouth, reddened from his kisses, just opened slightly. She was panting from his attentions and his words. Good. So was he.

“Now, let me see you home. Tomorrow promises to be a difficult day for both of us and you’ll need your rest.”

“Aye, Douglas, I fear ye hiv the right of it about tomorrow. Will ye hold my hand as we walk?”

He drew her close and put his arm around her shoulders. They walked without speaking the rest of the way. Douglas let the night’s crisp air cool down his body and he was reasonably comfortable when they reached the cottage at the edge of the village.

As they approached, the door swung open and Pol stood in the doorway.

“So, ye found her?” His deep voice rumbled through the quiet night.

“Aye, Da, he did. Give me a moment.” Pol stepped back inside but the door remained open. There was no sign of Moira. “Thank ye for bringing me home, Douglas, and for being wi’ me when I needed ye to be.”

He lifted his arm from around her and watched her step away. Before she could get far, he reached out and touched her cheek. She stopped and looked back at him... waiting. He didn’t leave her waiting for long. Douglas leaned over and touched his mouth to hers. This time it was for comfort and lasted a few seconds.

“Try to sleep tonight. And I will be here in the morning. We have work to do.” She walked silently into the cottage and the door closed behind her.

He turned and headed back the way they’d come. As he trotted back to the castle, he thought he’d feel tired but instead he felt very much awake. Sleep would be long in coming this night, that much he knew for certain.