Robbie took the cub from her and held it against his own chest, ignoring its attempts to bite him as he worked the tap root from its tiny claws. “Our fierce little friend left its teeth marks in the wood.”

“Should we have brought it back with us? Was that wise?”

Robbie shrugged and handed the kitten back to her, keeping the root. “Why not? Its mother likely drowned.” He canted his head and smiled. “We’ll give it to Winter. She’ll be thrilled to have another spitting hellcat to keep her company.”

“Oh, yes,” Catherine said, scrambling to her feet. “That’s perfect.” She suddenly looked worried again. “But what about Mary? She didn’t come back with us.”

Robbie stood up and tucked the root in his belt. “She’ll be along when she’s ready. She probably stayed behind to see if Angus keeps his promise to stop warring.” He looked around them. “We’re not far from where our clothes should be,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the ridge toward the summit.

“Can I keep these beautiful clothes?” she asked, looking down at herself, only to gasp suddenly. “My stick! It didn’t come back with us.”

“I’ll make you a new one.” He smiled at her crestfallen face. “Unless you’d like a sword instead. I have a small one my father made for me when I was four.”

“No. No more swords. But I would like a new stick.”

She let go of his hand because she needed both of hers to control the kitten. “We should probably let Winter name it,” she said, laughing as it gnawed on her finger.

Robbie snatched it from her, held it up, then gave it back with a smile. “It’s a him,” he said.

“Winter could call him Snowball, since he came from Snow Mou—ow!” she yelped, sucking her thumb. “He bit me!”

Robbie chuckled. “I don’t think he cares for that name. And he’s not white, he’s coal black.”

“But that’s only his baby fur,” she said, tucking him safely inside her shawl, then taking Robbie’s hand as he helped her down a steep incline. “There’s Father Daar.”

Robbie looked where she was pointing and saw the old priest striding toward them, his weathered staff looking more frail than he did.

“God’s teeth, I’ve been worried,” Daar said, stopping and glaring at Catherine. “Ya should have left her there!” he snapped. “She nearly got us all killed.”

“Be thankful she was with me, priest,” Robbie said softly. “Or you wouldn’t be having a tree to grow.” He took the root from his belt and held it up. “I couldn’t have found this without Catherine’s help.”

“Now who’s telling wild tales?” she whispered out the side of her mouth. “You’re worse than Ian.”

Daar’s entire countenance changed, and his glare turned into a huge smile as he rushed up to Robbie and grabbed the root. “Ya got it!” he cried, examining the root. “Aye, it’s a strong piece,” he whispered, closing his fist around it as he looked at Robbie with shining eyes. “I knew ya could do it, MacBain. I knew it. God’s teeth, what’s that?” he shouted, stepping back and pointing at Cat’s chest. “Holy Mother, ya brought back a demon.”

“He’s just a kitten,” Cat said, lifting her shawl to cover Snowball’s spitting face.

Daar pointed at her but glared at Robbie. “Ya drown that accursed thing,” he hissed. “It’

s a panther cub, and if ya found it in Scotland, it only means trouble.”

Catherine turned away, as if to protect her charge from the priest’s anger. “Nobody is drowning him! He’s a present for Winter.”

Daar suddenly gasped again. “What’s that on her hand? And yours!” he cried, looking at Robbie’s left hand. He lifted his startled gaze. “Ya’re married?” he whispered.

“N-Not really,” Catherine said, drawing his attention. “Not in this time, anyway.”

Daar raised one eyebrow. “Did ya stand in front of a priest?”

“Well, yes, we did, but I didn’t say… ”

She snapped her mouth shut when Daar waggled his finger at her. “It don’t matterwhen ya got married, girl,” he said. “As long as ya both live, the vows are binding.”

“But I didn’t vow anything. I couldn’t even understand what the priest was saying.”

Daar shook his head, his glare turning to a look of sympathy as his gaze moved from Catherine to Robbie, then back to Catherine. Only Robbie didn’t know who the priest felt sorry for, him or his poor, protesting wife.

“Catherine,” Daar said, stepping toward her. “Ya stood before a priest and accepted Robbie MacBain’s ring. That’s all the vows ya have to take.”

Robbie took her hand and led her toward his horse. “You worry about growing your tree, old man, and I’ll worry about my wife.”

Daar fell into step behind them. “Did ya see Cùram? Did ya have to fight him for the root?”

Robbie stopped and glared at the olddrùidh. “Our paths never crossed. But be mindful you plant that root where it will be safe. I had to destroy Cùram’s tree to get it, and once he discovers what’s happened, he’ll likely be looking for revenge.”

Daar gasped, stepping back and clutching the root to his chest, his eyes wide with horror. “Ya killed a tree of wisdom?”

Robbie gestured at Daar’s chest. “Not completely. There’s still the root.”

“But to destroy all those years of knowledge, MacBain. All that energy. The energy had to go somewhere. Where did it go?”

Robbie shrugged. “I have no idea, priest, and I don’t care. I did my duty to protect my family, and now you will do yours and reverse your original spell.”

“Aye, aye, I’ll start right now,” he said, nodding and stepping back, his eyes still wide with both awe and a good bit of fear. “And I’ll hide it well,” he added, turning and beating a hasty retreat down the mountain.

Robbie looked over at Catherine, only to find her staring up a him with her own look of horror. “What?” he asked.

“He… he couldn’t decide if all that energy wentinto you, or if itcursed you,” she whispered.

He leaned over, kissed her worried lips, and pulled back just enough for her to see his smile. “I can promise you I’m not cursed, wife,” he said, and kissed her again when she gasped.

He did a thorough job of it, too, and then took hold of her hand and led her over to their clothes. “If we hurry, you can still make it home before the school bus comes,” he said, stripping off his plaid and slipping into his modern clothes.

“Today’s Saturday,” she told him, rolling the kitten up in her shawl and setting him on the ground. “Everyone’s probably still sleeping,” she added, gesturing for Robbie to turn his back so she could change her own clothes with a bit more modesty. “And you saidI can make it home in time. Aren’t you coming with me?”

Robbie finished tying his sword and MacKeage plaid to his saddle and reached down and plucked the kitten from Catherine’s shawl. “I have to go to Gu Bràth first,” he told her, mounting up and tucking the cub inside his own plaid. “And I’ll give Winter her new little friend, explain to Greylen where Ian has gone, and ask him to call a clan meeting for this evening.” He held out his hand to her, moving his foot from his stirrup so she could mount up behind him. “And I would like you to schedule your day so you can come with me this evening.”

“To your clan meeting? But why?”

He patted her hand around his waist and started his horse down the mountain. “Because you were there. You can help assure them that Ian is happy.”

“But they’ll believe you. I don’t want to go.”

“But I want you to,” he said, stopping when he came to her horse. He reached around, lifted her off his saddle, and plunked her down on her own. He untied her horse’s halter and handed her the rope. “You needn’t bother with the bridle. Hell,” he said with a chuckle. “You could sleep for the ride home if you want. Sprocket’s only concern this morning is a bucket of grain and a nap in his stall.”

Catherine nudged Sprocket forward and started down the mountain. Robbie followed, wondering how to bring up his next concern. It wasn’t fair to ask anything else of his poor wife right now, considering all she’d been through, but dammit, until this one final matter was resolved, she would never be able to accept their marriage.