Chapter 1

Lily Jones smiled encouragingly at her patient. "That's it. You've almost got it!"

Bettie Clyde, the seventy-five-year-old retired teacher who Lily was currently working with, blew out her lips. "Blimey, this is hard work! Whoever thought putting on a shoe would be so difficult!"

"It'll get easier," Lily replied. "This is just part of your rehab. We can't have you bending over too much right after your operation, can we?"

Bettie nodded and continued diligently working with the shoe horn. Finally, she got the shoe over her foot and sat back, puffing a little. She'd only been out of hospital a few days after her hip replacement and she was doing remarkably well— even if she didn't think so herself.

Lily clapped her hands together and grinned broadly. "You see! I said you could do it!"

Bettie gave her a weak smile. "Aye, you did, but that's only one of two. Do I have to put the other one on now?"

Lily laughed. "No, I think you've done enough for today. What say we go for a little walk to celebrate?"

Bettie snorted. "Walk? That would be a fine thing! I haven't walked properly in years!"

Lily flipped her chestnut braid over her shoulder as she knelt and began putting on Bettie's remaining shoe. "Well, if you continue progressing how you are, you'll be walking in no time. And I'm sure Teddy will be pleased about that."

Teddy, Bettie's cute-faced little Airedale terrier, perked his ears up at the mention of his name.

"Oh, you've done it now!" Bettie laughed. "We'll get no peace!"

As if understanding every word his owner said, Teddy jumped down from the couch and began dancing around Bettie's wheelchair, wagging his tail and barking excitedly.

Lily climbed to her feet. "All right, I give in! You can come too, Teddy."

In short order she had Bettie bundled up in her coat, Teddy on his lead, and her own long coat on over her uniform. It might be spring, but the weather had been a bit chilly of late. She wheeled Bettie out of the back door of her single-story house, through the arching garden gate, and along the street towards the park.

As she gently pushed the wheelchair, Lily breathed in deeply of the fresh spring air. She loved this time of year. It was so full of promise and excitement, like anything was possible. The fresh green leaves were just beginning to uncurl, and the gardens and parks were full of daffodil, crocus, and sweet-smelling hyacinth.

The park was right at the end of Bettie's street and it was busy with children playing ball games and clambering on the climbing frames, people walking their dogs, and joggers racing along the many paths. It seemed Lily wasn't the only one who'd decided to make the most of the bright spring day.

She wheeled Bettie over to one of the benches and put the brake on her wheelchair. Bettie unclipped Teddy's lead and the little dog raced off, happily sniffing through the flowerbeds and bushes, and wagging his tail delightedly.

"We could all take a leaf out of Teddy's book," Bettie said. "It must be nice to be pleased by such simple things."

Lily laughed. "Well, I know a simple thing that would make me happy right now. There's a kiosk over there—how about I get us both a cup of tea?"

Bettie grinned. "Ah, now you're talking, my dear!"

Lily walked over to the kiosk and joined the line waiting to order. She felt a twinge in her back and a hot, sharp stab of pain went all the way down her leg. She winced, doing her best to ignore it.

Perhaps she'd over done it a bit. Bettie was her fifth client of the day, and maybe she shouldn't have wheeled her to the park. But it was such a nice day and Bettie was making such great progress that she hadn't been able to resist. After all, she was an occupational therapist, wasn't she? It was her job to help people and if she wore herself out a little in the process, who was she to complain? The satisfaction of helping others far outweighed her own discomfort.

And besides, she had much to make up for.

She reached the front of the line and ordered two cups of strong tea and a small piece of carrot cake to go with each. So much for watching her figure. Well, she'd earned it!

Carrying the paper cups in each hand and holding the paper bag between her teeth, she made her way back to where she'd left her client. Halfway there, she noticed that someone else was sitting on the bench next to Bettie. It was an elderly woman wrapped up in a thick coat and the two of them were chatting away like old friends. Teddy was dancing around the newcomer's feet, tail wagging ecstatically, while the old woman absently scratched his ears.

Lily approached and coughed politely. Bettie looked up. "Ah, there you are, my dear! I've just been telling my new friend what a godsend you've been since I came out of hospital."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Bettie," Lily replied with a shrug. "I just give you instructions—it's you who does all the hard work."

"She's modest too you know," Bettie said to the newcomer. "As well as beautiful and clever. It's a wonder she's still single! I don't know why some strapping young man hasn't snapped her up by now!"

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Here we go again. Ever since Bettie had learned that Lily was single, the older woman had made it her personal mission to arrange Lily's love life. She'd even gone as far as trying to set her up with her grandson—never mind that her grandson was five years Lily's junior and gay to boot.

"Oh my," said Bettie's new friend. "That is surprising, isnae it?"

"Here," Lily said, holding out the cup before Bettie could say anything else to embarrass her. "Drink your tea."

Bettie took it. "Ah, that warms the hands up nicely."

"And I got you some cake as well," Lily said. "Although with that last comment, I'm not sure you deserve it."

Bettie winked at her new friend. "Oh dear. I think I'm in trouble. She'll have me doing extra exercises for this, you mark my words."

Lily sat down on the bench next to the newcomer. "You'll have to excuse her," she said, shooting Bettie a look. "She's yet to learn the meaning of the term ‘over sharing'." Putting her cup and the paper bag down on the bench beside her, she held out her hand to Bettie's new friend. "I'm Lily. Pleased to meet you."

The old woman reached out and took Lily's hand, shaking it firmly. She had a remarkably strong grip for someone of her age. Lily guessed her to be older than Bettie—in her eighties, at least, if the wrinkles around her eyes were anything to go by. Yet she seemed vigorous for all that, with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes and a lustrous sheen to the gray hair she had pulled back into a bun.

"A pleasure to meet ye, my dear," she said in a broad Scottish accent. "I'm Irene. Irene MacAskill."

"Would you like my cup of tea, Irene?" Lily said politely. "And maybe a bit of cake? I can always go and get myself another."

Irene cocked her head and regarded Lily shrewdly. Her eyes were deep and dark, with hardly any iris around the pupil at all.

"That is mightily kind of ye, my dear," she said, patting Lily's hand. "But I'm more of a whisky drinker myself. And I'll pass on the cake too if ye dinna mind." She patted her more-than-ample waistline. "I'm watching my figure." The twinkle in her eye suggested she was teasing.

"What have you been talking about?" Lily asked the two women.

Bettie answered around a mouthful of carrot cake. "Irene was just telling me about her adventures. She's been all over the Highlands and some of the places I haven't even heard of."

"Is that where you're from?" Lily asked. The Highlands were a long way north of here.

Irene waved her hand airily. "I'm from everywhere and nowhere, my dear. I think I might have trodden every inch of this fair land of ours."

"Sounds like you've led an interesting life."

Irene MacAskill sighed and there was something wistful in the sound. "Aye," she said softly. "Ye could say that." Then she brightened. "And it's been made all the more interesting for meeting ye, my dear."

"That's kind of you to say, Irene, but I'm really not very interesting. I'm nothing special."

Irene's eyebrows shot up. "Nothing special? Why on earth would ye say such a thing?" Her dark gaze fixed on Lily, seeming to pin her to the spot.

Lily shifted uncomfortably. "Um, are you sure you wouldn't like a drink? Tell you what, I'll just go and get you a cup of tea."

She made to rise, but Irene's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist before she could move. "I'm fine, lass," Irene said. "I dinna need a cup of tea. What I need is to talk to ye. After all, that's why I came here."

"To...to talk to me?"

Irene MacAskill was watching her with a look that seemed to pierce her right down to the bone. There was something about that gaze that made Lily want to run away and also spill all her secrets at the same time. It was deep and knowing, as though it had seen and experienced the whole range of human experience, from the light to the dark and back again.

"Ye canna run forever, my girl," Irene said softly.

"Run? What do you mean?" Lily said with a shaky laugh. "I'm not running from anything."

Liar, a voice said in her head. Of course you are.

"Are ye not? If that is so, then why do ye fill yer life with duty? With helping others? With putting everything and everyone before yerself?"

"Because it's my job! Listen Irene, it was nice to meet you, but I really think I should be getting Bettie home—"

"Ye canna run forever," Irene repeated. "Eventually, ye will run out of road. When that happens, ye will have to turn around and face the thing ye canna face. Only then can ye find the path ye were meant to tread."

Lily did not like the turn this conversation was taking. It skirted too close to things she did not want to talk about. But despite herself, she felt something stirring at Irene's words, something that she fought desperately to control. It rose up inside her despite her best efforts—that cold, dark feeling of guilt and despair that she spent every day trying so desperately to smother.

The screech of tires. The blare of sirens.

Irene released her hand. Her dark eyes shone with compassion. "I know it hurts, my dear. I know sometimes ye feel like there is no way ye can live with it. But ye can. Ye are stronger than ye think if ye would only take the time to learn that. Ye will soon have a choice to make. A new path will come before ye, one that, if ye have the courage to take it, will lead ye to the place where ye will find yerself, and to the person who will show ye who ye really are."

She patted Lily's knee. "It will be hard, my dear. I wish I could make it easier for ye, but I canna interfere, only offer choices. But if ye make the right one, the pain will be worth it in the end." She heaved herself to her feet and looked down at Lily. "Choose wisely, my dear."

She bent and scratched Teddy behind the ear, bid good day to Bettie, and then walked off without another word. Lily stared after her, open-mouthed, until she was out of sight in the distance.

"Lily?" Bettie said. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Lily snapped her mouth shut and blinked, trying to clear her thoughts. "Why were you talking to that woman? Did you know her?"

Bettie looked around. "What woman?"

"Irene MacAskill. The woman who was here just a moment ago! You were talking to her when I came back with the drinks!"

Bettie frowned, her white eyebrows pulling down. "Lily, my dear, I haven't spoken to anyone since we came into the park. I waited here with Teddy while you got the drinks. I certainly haven't spoken to anyone called Irene MacAskill."

"But...but..." Lily spluttered. Was Bettie messing with her? Was this the old woman's idea of a joke? But one look at Bettie's face dispelled this idea. She looked concerned, as if worried about Lily's sanity.

My sanity?Lily thought. Perhaps I should be worried about it as well. Especially if I'm imagining strange conversations with strange old women.

She blew out a breath and then wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She'd suddenly lost all interest in her tea and cake. She tossed the slice of cake to Teddy, who wolfed it down in one, and then threw her cup into the nearest bin.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Bettie asked. "You look a little out of sorts."

"I'm fine," Lily replied. "Just a little...tired."

She clipped on Teddy's lead and then wheeled Bettie out of the park and back along the street to her house. Once inside, she had Bettie practice moving herself from the wheelchair to her chair a few times to make sure she could do it safely and only when she was satisfied did she begin packing up her bag.

"You're sure you're going to be okay?" she asked Bettie, who was sitting in her chair with her feet up, Teddy curled in her lap and the TV remote by her hand. "The district nurse will be in later to check your dressing, and I'll be back tomorrow to do some more rehab."

"I'll be fine," Bettie said with a smile. "Go. Get yourself home and look after yourself for once." She wagged an admonishing finger at Lily, reminiscent of the schoolteacher she used to be. "And no more arguing!"

"All right, all right! I'm going!" Lily said, holding up her hands. She grabbed her bag, threw on her coat, gave Teddy one final scratch behind the ear, then bid them both goodbye and headed out the back door and along the garden path. At the end, she reached the gate. It had a pergola arching above it covered with twisting roses, just coming into leaf.

Pain twinged down her back again and she halted, gasping, until it passed. She had to admit that Bettie was right: it would feel very good to get home and put her feet up. Maybe she'd get a pizza and watch a trashy film. Ah, heaven.

She moved to walk through the gate, but paused as something strange caught her eye. The space beneath the arch of the pergola looked... odd. It seemed to be...shimmering. Lily narrowed her eyes, puzzled. It was not warm enough to cause heat-haze like that, but the air wavered like the air over a bonfire.

Intrigued, Lily took a step back to get a better look. She couldn't see the street through the haze and there were images shimmering in it. But those images made no sense at all. She thought she saw a large lake with three mounted figures riding along the shore, then an ancient-looking city with spires rising into the sky. Then lastly, she saw a man's face for the briefest instant.

What the hell? What was happening?

She shuffled forward and held her hand out towards the heat-haze. Where her fingers touched it, she felt a warm tingling sensation, and something else as well—an almost irresistible pull.

If ye have the courage to take it, it will lead ye to the place where ye will find yerself, and to the person who will show ye who ye really are.

Why had those words unsettled her so? Why had they stirred up such uncomfortable feelings?

Her foot moved. Then the other. She took a single step forward. The shimmering was right in front of her face now, so close she could feel it tingling against her skin.

Ye canna run forever, my girl.

She took another step and passed through the arch.