Chapter 15

Willow

Isprinted after Ramsay, but damn, the man was fast. He was already waist deep in the water by the time I reached the shoreline, icy rain deluging us.

"Ramsay! Over there!" I shouted, pointing to where two little ears poked above the surface of waves that had kicked up with the storm. I wondered if the kitten had fallen from the embankment wall or from a boat or something. Either way, its desperate mewls for help were causing panic to rise in my throat. Another clap of thunder rattled the sky, and I hunched my shoulders against the rain that slapped my back.

I stumbled along the rocky shoreline, keeping my eyes on the kitten at all times, my arm pointed to where it was, determined not to lose sight of the little guy. It was one of the rules of boating we'd been taught—if anyone was ever struggling in the water, one person always kept eyes on them and directed the boat to help. Now, I did my best to be shore support as Ramsay pressed through the water.

"You're almost there!"

The kitten, hearing my cries, turned and spied Ramsay. Gratefully, the little guy seemed to understand help was on its way, and both Ramsay and the kitten closed the remaining distance quickly. Catching the kitten close to his chest, Ramsay hunched his shoulders, protecting it from the rain, and trudged toward where I stood, shivering and near tears on the shore.

Something shifted in the water behind Ramsay.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Ramsay."

It came out as a whisper, and I stood, frozen, as water horses began to take shape among the sheets of rain that pounded Loch Mirren. They were far out, merely silhouettes shifting among the water in the distance, but I knew.

I knew.

"Ramsay, run." This time it came out as a shout, as the shadows grew larger, the shapes taking more definition, lightning rippling along the mutinous storm clouds. A shriek split the air—the sound what nightmares were made of—and I stumbled as I ran toward the shore, needing to get Ramsay out of the water. Not that I had any idea of what to do about the Kelpies that careened across the stormy loch. I'd barely been in the Order of Caledonia for a day. I hadn't been given the rundown on what to do if a Kelpie attacked. Which, you know, might have been a helpful thing to know if attacks were happening on a regular basis.

Ramsay caught me as I slipped on the rocks, heaving me into his arms before I hit the ground, and I scrambled in his arms, hooking my arm around his shoulders as he carried me to safety. I peeked over his shoulder, my eyes widening as the Kelpies loomed closer, their heads tossed back and rage on their face.

"By the Order of Caledonia, I order you back!"

A shout at my back had me twisting in Ramsay's arms to see Sophie, sword raised, Lachlan at her side as the Kelpies raged to a stop at the shoreline, dissolving in a shatter of icy seawater.

It was shocking, really, how fast they disappeared. It reminded me of a water balloon exploding on a sidewalk. In one second, the Kelpies were a very real threat, and in the next, they matched the droplets of rain that smashed the surface of the loch.

"Holy hell," I breathed at Ramsay's neck, my heart hammering in my chest. Something squirmed at my chin, and I leaned back to see the kitten poke its head out from the neck of Ramsay's sweater.

"Meow."

Its meow was just a rasp in its throat, and it blinked greenish yellow eyes at me, its fur matted and spiky around its head.

"Okay, bud. We got you now. You're safe."

"You're both okay?"

Ramsay's voice was a rumble at my ear, and I looked up at him. Water dripped from his chin, his face set in stone.

"Seems so. We'll get him dried off. You're a hero, Ramsay."

Heat flashed in his eyes, a barely restrained storm, and for one insane second, I thought he was going to kiss me. His lips hovered close, adrenaline racing through our systems, and my chest heaved as I shuddered in a breath.

Kiss me.

I wanted it. I realized that immediately. I wanted his lips on mine, to taste him, to feel what it would be like to have a man like him protecting me. I eased closer, the movement almost imperceptible, desperate for just a taste of him.

"Willow!" Sophie called and Ramsay turned, his lips brushing softly across my cheek with the movement.

My skin burned at his touch.

My eyelids fluttered closed, and I inhaled the salty sea air, trying to calm myself down.

It was just an impulse born of adrenaline. That was all. You're not a damsel in distress, Willow. Just because a strong man swoops you up into his arms doesn't mean you need to kiss him.

But the princess kissed the hero in the movies, didn't she?

"Are you guys okay? What happened?" Sophie asked as Ramsay stopped at her side, gently placing me back on the sidewalk before cupping the kitten that wiggled underneath his sweater.

"Let's get inside. We need to get this guy warm." Ramsay nodded to the kitten that now poked its head fully from his sweater, and if I hadn't been attracted to Ramsay before, it would be almost impossible not to be now. Both kitten and man were soaked, and there was just something about the juxtaposition between a big, strong dripping-wet man and the teeny-tiny kitten that he'd saved that made my heart melt.

"Awww," Sophie said. She clutched my arm after Ramsay walked away, and correctly interpreting my look, raised her eyebrows after him.

"Nope."

"Or, maybe, right? Why not?" Sophie hissed, dragging me with the arm that didn't carry the sword. Lachlan trudged in silence next to us, continuing to dart glances over his shoulder at the stormy loch until we clambered through the door of the shop.

"Towels. Flip the lock." Ramsay nodded to a pile of towels from where he sat on the floor by the fire. He'd already wrapped the kitten in a fluffy pink towel, its fur spiking around its head. It let out another small rasp.

"Oh, he's super cute. He was in the loch?" Sophie crouched and handed me a few towels. I did my best to dry off my sodden hair, before wrapping another around my shoulders and dropping to the floor next to Ramsay to peer at the kitten.

"Should I heat up some milk or something for it?" Lachlan asked, crouching.

"I don't think you can give kittens milk. It gives them a sore stomach," Ramsay said. "Maybe just a little fresh water? See if it takes it?"

"Should we get him checked at the vet?"

"Closed for the day now, I think. But if we think it's an emergency, we can call." Sophie eased back, reaching for a towel to wipe the rain from her face. We sat in silence, drying ourselves, and nobody seemed quite ready to speak about the Kelpies.

"It's pretty cold in the loch, though, isn't it? I'm worried about the kitten's water exposure," I said, my eyes going back to the kitten.

"But not mine?" Ramsay arched a brow at me, and I smiled.

"You seemed pretty hot to me."

Yup, that's what I said. What I'd meant to say was he seemed fine, yet those were not the words that came out of my mouth.

"Mew."

"Oh buddy, your poor voice. May I?" I asked, needing to distract myself from the embarrassment that burned my cheeks. Ramsay handed the kitten over to me, his face inscrutable, and I shifted to cradle the kitten and turned my wet back to the fire.

The kitten tilted its head, and I held it to my face to meet its eyes. We'd never had pets growing up, so I didn't much know the protocol with a kitten, but I remembered desperately wanting one as a child. About two pounds, with dark stripes in matted grey fur, the kitten settled into my palms and surveyed me with the same interest that I gave him.

Mine.

Jeez, I really needed to stop claiming things around here. Pretty soon I'd be saying the same about Ramsay if I didn't stop myself. But the same feeling I'd had about the sewing scissors resonated with me about this cat.

The scissors.

I gasped, causing the kitten to stand in my palms, its back going up.

The vision.

I'd forgotten about it, but now as I stared at the kitten who glared at me, I pulled my eyes up to a dripping-wet Ramsay.

I'd seen this happen.

Quite literally.

And had been coated with sea water after the vision. My mouth worked, but no sound came out, and Ramsay's expression shifted to concern.

"Willow?" Sophie touched my arm, startling me from staring dumbly at Ramsay, and I turned to her.

"I think I know what my magick is."

I blurted it, without thinking, and then winced. After the ritual, Archie and Hilda had discussed some of the matters regarding privacy around the Order and magick, and now I'd likely broken their trust. Granted, Ramsay had just been privy to the Kelpies, so it wasn't like he could ignore the existence of magick in the world, but he also didn't need to know that I was magick. Did he?

"Your magick? Did you call the Kelpies then?" Ramsay asked, looking taken aback.

"Excuse me? You think I'd put us in harm's way?" I asked, affronted.

"Och, lass, stand down. It's the only magick I saw, is all. Except …" Ramsay toweled his hair, lifting his chin toward Sophie. "That little trick you did with your sword. A bit magickal, no?"

"Aye," Lachlan said, surprising Sophie, and Ramsay looked up to him. "Both of the lasses have magick."

A look passed between the men, and then Ramsay just nodded.

That was it?

Nothing more? I mean, I'd had a thousand questions yesterday and still felt like I'd barely scratched the surface, and the men could just accept it point-blank?

A knock sounded at the door, and Lachlan crossed the room, flipping the lock, and opening it to Agnes hovering under an umbrella, concern on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I had to come."

Lachlan ushered her inside, closing the door against the rain again, and Agnes stomped her boots as Ramsay added another log to the fire. It was cozy in here, with friends huddled close by the fire, the rain hammering the window outside. It was almost easy enough to pretend that the last few horrifying minutes hadn't just happened. A soft rumbling drew my attention, and I realized that I was still holding the kitten aloft, but he'd settled back into my palms. His little body vibrated with purrs. Drawing him close, I wrapped him back in the towel again, and cradled him against my chest.

I could see the future.

That had to be it. It all made sense to me, these flashes of knowing that had occurred in my past, often saving me from danger. It was some sort of latent power that now had manifested with my indoctrination into the Order of Caledonia. Honestly, of all the powers, I expected something perhaps more physical, or something related to sewing, but not necessarily psychic abilities.

Was it psychic though? I mean, I'd drawn Ramsay holding the kitten in the water. But I'd also come away from the vision with sea water on my face. I didn't know any psychics that had that kind of power. Granted, I didn't know any actual psychics, so my knowledge was limited in that area anyway.

"I saw the Kelpies, and wanted to come check that everyone was okay."

Silence greeted Agnes as we all looked up at her. She tilted her head at us in question, concern furrowing her brow as she folded her umbrella and placed it by the door, before shaking her coat off and hanging it on a hook. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

"Willow's figured out what her magick is. And, apparently, also just informed Ramsay that we have magick. We're just processing … I'm guessing?" Sophie twisted to look at me and I nodded faintly. "Also, they rescued this kitten from the loch."

"Aww, look at the wee lad. Sometimes they do slip off that sea wall, don't they?"

"Aye, we know it. Sir Buster did it himself, didn't he then?" Lachlan said and I gaped up at him.

"Sir Buster fell in the loch?"

"And Lachlan went after him. We almost lost him because of how long he'd been in there." A look passed between Lachlan and Sophie, full of so much love and tenderness that my heart twisted in my chest.

I wanted that. That inscrutable something with someone where a thousand words were said with barely a glance.

"Does this happen a lot? With animals by the water?"

"Here and there. Along that one side of the loch where there's the sea wall that protects the road, they've slipped a time or two." Agnes crouched by my side and ran a finger over the kitten's head and its rumbling increased. "He seems well enough though."

"Does he? I have no idea. I've never had a cat before. I've always wanted one though." I looked down at the sleeping bundle, barely resisting the urge to rock it. The kitten was already sleeping, he didn't need me to rock him to sleep. "Can I …"

I trailed off, not sure if it was too much of an ask and suspecting I wouldn't like the answer that I would get. Sophie had already done so much for me, and I'd hardly proven myself—not as an employee nor as a member of the Order—and to ask to bring an animal into her home was totally overstepping.

"Can you what?" Ramsay's voice was gruff.

"I really want to keep him. I've always wanted a cat, and I just feel like he's mine. I really do. But it's such a huge ask, and you've already got the dogs. Maybe I could keep him here? Or just in the apartment but not in the actual castle? Or bring him back and forth? I just feel like … I don't know … like he belongs to me." I stroked the kitten's soft fur, and it nuzzled closer, tucking its head beneath my chin, and I realized that I was dangerously close to tears. It was stupid, really, he was just a kitten. I'm sure I could find him a good home if I needed to.

Maybe I just needed something for me. Something to love me without reservation, or expectation of anything other than companionship. A silly thought, maybe, but I was in a different country, with new friends, a new job, and felt decidedly out of place as I tried to navigate these wild, new circumstances into which I'd been thrust. Last night, when Sir Buster and Clyde curled up on my bed, it had been decidedly soothing, and now, as I held this tiny kitten to my chest, I desperately wanted him to be mine.

The kitten, seeming to sense my distress, lifted its head and licked my chin, its tongue rough against my skin.

"What's his name?" Ramsay asked me.

"Calvin," I said automatically, and Sophie laughed.

"Like Calvin Klein?"

"No, like A Wrinkle in Time."

"Ah yes, a wee hero in his own right, eh?" Agnes scratched Calvin's ear, nodding her approval at me. "Great book."

"It was my favorite growing up. Love wins." I'd probably reread that book a hundred times. I could relate to the idea of a missing parent and feeling at odds with the world.

"Of course you can keep him," Sophie said, smiling at me. "We'll figure it out with the dogs."

"He can stay here too."

At that, I looked up at Ramsay, a smile on my face.

"Really?"

"Aye. But you'll need to get him a scratching post. If he rips any of my fabrics, he's in trouble."

"Oh shit, yeah, that would be bad." I tightened my grip around Calvin. "We'll train him. I promise. Thank you, guys. I just feel like he's mine. It's dumb, I guess."

"It's not dumb," Sophie and Agnes chimed in at the same time.

Ramsay stood and left the room, and shuffling noises came from the back room. In moments he was back, two chairs hooked under his arms, and he placed them by the fire, dragging over the other one from in front of the desk. Next, he draped towels on all the chairs, before stopping in the doorway between the rooms.

"I'm going to change, put on a pot of tea, and then we'll figure this out. Aye?"

"Aye," I said softly, nerves simmering in my stomach.

He wasn't talking about figuring out how to take care of a kitten. He was talking about the magick, and I realized I'd have to bare myself to everyone in this room when I still didn't know or understand what was happening to me. It was wildly disconcerting, not just picking up and starting over in a new place, but also discovering I was part of a mystical Order. I would say, one of the benefits of having worked on fashion shows, was that you needed to address things at lightning speed. Hopefully, that trait would help me now.

By the time Ramsay returned, we'd all moved from the floor to the chairs, towels wrapped around us, and my breath caught when he walked through the door, a tea tray in hand.

He wore sweatpants.

Grey sweatpants to be exact.

Hung low at his hips, with a navy-blue chunky sweater on top, and thick fuzzy cottage socks at his feet. He looked comfy, cozy, and impossibly sexy. It took everything in my power not to ogle him as he bent to put the tray on the table in the middle of the chairs. There was just something about a man in grey sweatpants that made my insides go loose and liquid. It made gruff Ramsay seem more approachable, a man to curl up with by the fire, and I distracted myself by readjusting Calvin in my arms.

Sophie winked at me, and I shook my head.

Nope.

She was not going to be a matchmaker. We weren't going to do this. Ramsay barely tolerated my presence as it was. A love match? Not happening.

"All right, lasses. Have at it then. Magick?" Ramsay said, startling me from stroking Calvin with increasing adoration.

"Do you want the long version or the short?" Sophie asked.

"Short. The lass has been through enough today."

I blinked up at Ramsay, realizing he meant me, and gave him a soft smile. It wasn't like I'd been the one to throw myself in a freezing cold loch and been threatened by the Kelpies. Yet Ramsay was worried about me.

"Well, you know about the Kelpies." Sophie gave Lachlan a heavy look, and he nodded at her.

"He's safe," Lachlan murmured.

"So, the short version is that there is a magickal Order tasked with protecting the Stone of Truth buried on the island in Loch Mirren. Because the last of the old Order died, the Kelpies will now protect the stone until the Order is fully resurrected again."

"Right," Ramsay said. He steepled his fingers as he absorbed her words, the fire snapping in the background. "And the magick?"

"Each member of the Order will step into powers as they pass their challenges to become a fully standing member."

"Challenges?" Ramsay, the man of many words, asked.

"You can't just join the Order. You have to prove you're worthy of the magick, as well as being strong enough to protect the Stone."

"And Willow is a member?"

"Correct. She joined yesterday and, it appears, her magick has manifested already."

"It may have been there all along," I admitted, biting my lower lip as I thought about all the times that my gut had guided me in the right direction. That being said, I'd had a lot of times that I'd made poor decisions or things hadn't gone well for me. So was I really psychic then? Or had I simply ignored my instincts to my own detriment? A thought to chew over another day, I supposed. I looked up at the group. "I … I don't know. I've had moments in life where my gut instinct made me do something. Like not take a bike tour in Costa Rica where they ended up getting stuck in a mudslide or not walking on a crosswalk when a car ran a red light. That kind of thing."

"That's a really strong instinct then. But you said you had an actual vision?" Sophie gave me an encouraging smile.

"I did. Last night. I was sketching out ideas for the shop and, well, yeah. So I guess I just drifted off? Hold on." I stood up, handing Calvin off to a delighted Agnes, and crossed the room to dig in my bag. A shiver went through me once I was away from the fire, and I realized I wanted to get home to change, curl up with Calvin, and just hit the pause button for a moment while my brain caught up with these changes. Hopefully, I could do that soon if we could just get through this conversation.

"Archie has kitten food. He feeds a few at the stables. He'll bring it to your apartment, along with a litter box, litter, and some food dishes. He says to keep him contained in smaller rooms for now, so he doesn't get too scared in a big place." Sophie held up her phone, and relief washed through me as I returned to the group, iPad in hand, and dragged a towel around my shoulders again.

"That's awesome, I hadn't even thought that far ahead."

"Calvin will be just fine. We'll get you tucked up in your new home shortly, bud." Sophie reached over to scratch Calvin's ear, and while I itched to bring him back to my arms, I needed to show the others what I'd drawn the night before.

"Oh, random question, but how did you know to be there? To help us?" I asked Sophie, sitting back down. "It was incredible to watch."

"I didn't. We were on our way to the shops. Lucky timing."

"You take your sword to the shops?" Ramsay asked, eyeing the sword by the fireplace.

"Doesn't everyone?" Sophie joked. "No, but I take it most places with me or leave it in the car. The Kelpies have been active lately. Doesn't hurt to have it around."

"No kidding. Glad you were there. So, I was sketching out some ideas …" I flipped my iPad on and scrolled through some sketches.

"Oh no way, those are cool. Is that chain mail?" Sophie leaned in and I paused, happy to hear a good response from her already.

"Yeah, I was kind of just playing with the idea of it. Maybe incorporating it in a modern way? Sort of a nod to the knight?"

"Even cooler. I'm the Knight."

"You are?" Ramsay raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sword, right?" Sophie indicated the sword, and Ramsay nodded and said nothing else.

A lot of nodding. Few words. It seemed like Ramsay absorbed wild news quite well.

"I'd like to see you in that top," Lachlan said to Sophie, and their eyes locked. I swear the temperature went up ten degrees in the room until Agnes swatted the air between us.

"No sexy talk right now, people. Focus."

"Right, so yeah, I was drawing and then I guess I kind of zoned out? But I kept drawing and then, well, yeah. It was this. And when I realized what I'd drawn I also noticed that I was wet."

"Wet?" Ramsay's voice shot heat straight through my core and I blinked at him, caught on whatever swam in the murky depths of his eyes. My cheeks heated.

"Like with sea water. It was salty. My face and hands were actually wet," I clarified quickly, realizing how that had sounded. I held up the iPad to show the image of Ramsay in the loch, clutching Calvin at his chest.

"Oh shit, Willow. That's a great drawing."

"You've taken some liberties with his looks, but it's not bad, I guess." Lachlan deadpanned and Ramsay punched his shoulder.

Admittedly, Ramsay looked very much the superhero in my drawing with bulging muscles and fearsome Kelpies hovering over his shoulder.

"You should send that to me. I'll print it and frame it for Lachlan," Ramsay said.

"Better to start a fire with, naw?" Lachlan and Ramsay descended into boy banter while Agnes tapped my leg and leaned in.

"This makes sense, you know."

"Does it? How?" I asked. Calvin awoke in Agnes's arms, stretching and looking around until he found me. Instantly he stood, and tried to clamber in my direction, and Agnes handed him off. Once he was in my arms again, Calvin settled in, purring contentedly in my lap.

Damn it, but I was already in love.

"It's the weaver. It's a common theme in many myths. The weaver foretold the future. It's like…weaving threads of fate together, you ken?"

"Threads," I said, faintly. "That's my father's nickname for me."

Agnes's face lit with excitement. "Aye, that's perfect, isn't it? It's all over the place in history when it comes to the ability to foretell the future. The Fates. Like in Greek mythology. Or the Norns in Norse. And the Parcae in Roman. All spinners of fate and destiny. Oh, and in some Native American myths there's the spider woman. She spins fate and prophecies through her web. Yes, this all makes sense, given what you do."

"It does?"

"Sure, you're in fashion. You create, work with textiles, build something new."

"It fits." Ramsay joined the conversation again, and his easy acceptance of something that I was still coming to terms with pacified some of the nerves that twisted in my gut.

"It does."

Another clap of thunder sounded, and Calvin let out a tiny little "brrrrp" in my arms. Shifting, I hugged him closer.

"I don't mean to be like this, but do you guys mind if I go home? I think I just need to get out of these wet clothes and take a moment. This is all a lot, and I want to get him settled." I nodded down to Calvin.

"I'm glad you're already calling it home." Sophie hopped up and patted my shoulder. "Come on, Lachlan will grab the car. You don't have to walk in the rain."

"Is it okay for me to leave?" I asked Ramsay.

"It's far past closing time, lass. You're free to do as you wish."

"I'll see you in the morning then. Not before your coffee, of course."

"Bring Calvin."

His words warmed me all the way back to the castle. He may be rough around the edges, but there was a softness underneath that hard exterior of Ramsay's. The innate gentleness was what I remembered about him from when he was a teenager. Yes, he goofed around with my brother, but he hadn't been churlish. Charming, kind, and sexy Ramsay was lethal to my heart.

Now I just had to do my best not to annoy him, all while trying not to fall head over heels for him.