“And just what do you plan to do if he does? Fight thedrùidh with your stick?”

“It’s about as useful as your sword!” she snapped, stepping away. Catherine sigh and canted her head at him. “Do you remember what you said to me right after you put the ring on my finger?”

“I said welcome to the rest of our lives.”

“No, first you said, ‘Welcome to your new calling, wife.’ And you were right. If I’m going to be a guardian’s wife, then it’s my duty to guard the guardian.”

“Dammit, Cat. That’s not what I meant.”

“But you can’t deny that husbands and wives have certain responsibilities to each other.

Just as you feel it’s your duty to protect me, do I not have the same privilege? Or is this one of those ‘I’m the brave warrior, and you’re the helpless little woman’ marriages?”

she asked, dropping her voice to sound like her dictatorial husband.

She smiled when his jaw clenched and stifled a chuckle when Ian snorted and said, “She’

s got ya there, MacBain. Even guardians need help sometimes, and who better than your wife?”

“It’s too dangerous,” Robbie said, glaring first at her and then at Ian. “And I did not bring you home, old man, to get you killed in three days.”

“Aye, but everyone needs to be needed, Robbie,” Ian said softly. “Including wives.”

“No! This is not open to discussion.”

“Then let me put it to you this way,” Catherine said, continuing the discussion anyway.

“If something happens to you, then I’m stuck here. I’m never going to see my children again.” He gave her such a confounded look that Catherine decided to press her advantage. “And I’ll be widowed and remarried to the first warrior fast enough to catch me.”

The noise started deep in his chest, rumbling with lethal warning, and erupted in a full-blown growl. Catherine simply smiled and tapped the end of his nose. She spun away before he could react, and sat back down on the mossy ledge and picked up her sawdust pancake.

“Go find your root,” she said, waving him away. “Ian and I will be right here when you get back.”

Ian, rubbing his hands together, moved to sit beside her, his chin lifted defiantly and his smile ruining his glare.

Robbie pulled his sword from the sheath on his back, and Catherine had a moment’s worry that he intended to send them home at sword-point. But Ian quietly reached over and squeezed her hand, then popped a piece of his cake into his mouth and chewed.

Robbie turned on his heel and started back toward the cave, then stopped and pointed his sword at them. “You’ll leave an hour before sunset if I’m not back by then,” he growled. “And if something happens to me, Mary can get you home.”

“Unless Mary dies trying to save you.”

He growled again, his face hard and his eyes glaring.

“Where is your pet?” Ian asked, looking up at the trees. “I haven’t seen her since we left this morning.”

“She went to check on the MacBains,” Robbie said, still glaring at Catherine. He finally looked at Ian. “Have my wife home by sunset, Uncle,” he softly commanded as he turned and disappeared into the woods.

Ian looked at Catherine and smiled. “It’s going to take him time to adjust to being married,” he told her, patting her arm. “But see, you’ve already won your first battle.

We get to wait here, and you get to do yar worrying up close.”

And worry she did, for three long hours. She ate several more sawdust pancakes and drank nasty ale until her stomach protested by throwing up. She paced a rut in the forest floor and watched Ian doze on and off, until the old man suddenly suggested they move themselves to the entrance of the cave.

Ian used her stick as a cane for the walk through the woods, and Catherine led their horses. She was surprised that Ian even found the cave and was even more surprised when she discovered the entrance was nothing more than a crack.

Warm air softly whistled from the crack, and Catherine settled Ian directly in front of it so he could soak up some of its warmth. Then she started wearing a new path in the dirt, pacing from their horses to Ian and back. But after another agonizing hour of worrying, wondering if Robbie was lost or stuck or had run into Cùram, she stopped when she heard a shrill whistle coming up the valley.

Mary landed on a branch in a tall pine tree and told Catherine her news. Catherine ran over to Ian and gently shook him awake.

“The MacBains are coming up the dry riverbed,” she said.

Ian came awake completely alert, canted his head, and listened. His eyes suddenly widened. “I’m guessing they’ve brought a legion of warriors,” he whispered, using the granite at his back to lever himself up. “Quick, we must hide ourselves and the horses.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Run down to where we were earlier and brush away our tracks leading up here. I’ll unsaddle our horses and send them away, and we’ll stash our gear and hide in the cave.”

Catherine ran to do as he told her, breaking off a spruce branch to brush the ground with. She even swept their path up from the riverbank and had just made it back to the cave when they heard the warriors stop at the base of the dam.

“Can you get inside, Ian?” she whispered, using her hand to protect his head when he tried to duck through the crack. “Do you fit?”

“Aye,” he said with a grunt, expelling his breath to squeeze through the narrow entrance. “It opens up once ya get inside,” he whispered, reaching out his hand. “Come quick, Catherine.”

She squeezed in after him, blinking to adjust to the low light, and gasped in surprise to see that the walls of the cave appeared to be glowing. She crawled further in and touched them, and found that they were unnaturally warm.

“What does this mean?” she whispered, crawling back to Ian. “How can they glow like that?”

“It’s the magic, lass,” he said as he watched through the crack and listened. “Aye, they’

ve stopped, all right. I’m thinking they’re making good on their threat to tear down the dam themselves. But don’t worry, lass. Niall will be here shortly.”

“Niall?”

“Aye,” he said, looking back at her and smiling. “My son was elected laird because of his cunning. He likely had someone guarding the dam.”

“But wouldn’t Niall’s scout have stopped us?”

Ian shrugged. “We’re just three villagers out enjoying the countryside, upsetting no one.” He grinned and patted her hand. “And we’re wearing the right color plaids. Nay, the scout will see the MacBains and go get my son.”

Catherine gasped and looked down. “Oh, my God, that’s water,” she hissed, getting up on her hands and knees as the floor became soaked and water started to trickle toward the crack. “Robbie!” she cried, trying to move deeper into the cave.

Ian grabbed her ankle. “Nay, lass. Ya cannot go after him. He’ll be back soon.”

The water quickly rose to about three inches deep, quietly babbling at first and then gushing into a small river that ran out the crack. Loud splashing came from deep in the cave, along with a roaring sound that shook the ground, and Catherine turned and saw Robbie hunched over, holding his chest as he ran toward them, a wall of water behind him.

“Get out!” he shouted when he spotted them. “Now!”

The frothing water beat them to the crack, washing them up in its path and spewing them from the cave in a churning deluge of chaos. A strong hand clamped around Catherine’s wrist, anchoring her against the current. She thought she was going to drown before she was suddenly pulled free of the water’s grip and slapped onto damp earth next to Robbie.

Ian shouted as he tumbled into the woods. Robbie pulled something from his chest, shoved it into her lap, and took off after the old warrior. Catherine sat up and blinked at the squirming, hissing bundle in her hands. A tiny mouth with miniature fangs spit at her as the black kitten twisted to get free.