Catherine stiffened, but Robbie only squeezed her shoulders again and answered his father in English.

“Daniels will be dealt with,” he said. “When my wife is ready to do it herself.”

Hiswife wanted to crawl into a crack. Why was he bringing up her ex-husband in front of all these people?

Libby MacBain stood up, gave her husband a pointed glare, walked to the head of the table, and pulled Catherine out of Robbie’s embrace and into her own arms. “Welcome to the family, daughter,” she whispered. “Michael and I are both overjoyed that Robbie has found such a special woman to love.”

Catherine was suddenly pulled from Libby’s arms and all but smothered in a fierce but surprisingly gentle embrace. “Aye, my son chose well,” Michael told her, kissing the top of her head. “I’m thinking you’ll be able to handle him. I welcome ya to my family, Catherine.”

And with that resounding endorsement, Catherine found herself being passed from hug to hug, getting well-wishes and welcomes from Morgan and Sadie MacKeage, Callum and Charlotte MacKeage, Greylen and Grace, and finally Winter, who seemed to be the only one of Robbie’s cousins at the meeting.

“Robbie told me you suggested I call him Snowball,” Winter said, peeling back the front of her vest to expose her passenger. “But he doesn’t seem to like it. I’m going to get to know him better before I name him. Thank you for bringing him to me.”

Catherine scratched the cub under his chin. “It was just a thought, because he came from Snow Mountain.”

“Aye,” Winter said as she tucked him away, her eyes suddenly turning sad. “I wish I could have gone with you.” She looked up at Robbie with accusing, tear-filled eyes. “Or at least known, so I could have said good-bye to Ian.”

“But Ian did say good-bye,” Robbie told her as he turned to face the others. “He visited with all of you this past week, did he not? But he couldn’t say anything because I swore him to silence.”

“But why?” Callum asked.

That was when the conversation moved from Catherine to Ian and then on to Daar.

Relieved, Catherine returned to her chair in the corner and listened while Robbie explained why he had traveled back in time and why he hadn’t told them he was doing so and why it was important for the old priest to have his powers restored.

But it was when she heard Robbie promise that as long as he lived they would all be safe from the magic, no matter how strong thedrùidh became, that Catherine finally realized what she’d gotten herself into.

She truly had fallen in love—not with a guardian angel but with a trueGuardian ordained by providence. And from what she was hearing, she was going to be so busy watching his back she wouldn’t have time to worry about looking over her own shoulder.

Yes, it was time to face Ron Daniels.

Chapter Twenty-three

The only problemwith inviting Ron to come for a visit was that nobody knew where he was. Catherine had called the parole officer assigned to him, several of his old acquaintances, and even his old precinct sergeant, only to run into dead ends.

She had finally told Robbie about her decision but that she couldn’t find Ron, and after he’d kissed her until her toes had curled, he explained that he had his own connections and quickly put out the word that Daniels’s ex-wife wanted to see him.

That had been four weeks ago, and there was still no ex-husband darkening her doorstep.

As for being Catherine MacBain, Catherine had told Robbie she couldn’t just say they were married and expect Nathan and Nora to understand. So she’d spent the last four weeks sleeping in her bedroom downstairs and planning a wedding where she would not only know what she was vowing but would get to say “I do” sometime during the ceremony.

The only problem was the date. Even though Robbie was willing to get married again to satisfy everyone in modern time, he refused to set a date until they could have a true wedding night. And they couldn’t have that, he insisted, until Daniels was completely out of her life.

Catherine was getting sorely tired of Robbie’s noble intentions—especially when he pulled her into his arms, kissed her senseless, and whispered heated, heart-thumping promises of what he wanted to do on their honeymoon. Her own noble intentions were about ready to explode, and when she wasn’t looking out the window expecting to see Ron standing there, Catherine was trying to figure out how to get Robbie alone long enough to curl his own toes.

The solution to her problem came from a most unlikely source one bright spring day, when Catherine heard a noise on the porch. She opened the door, and Mary walked into the kitchen, flew onto the back of her rocking chair, folded her wings, and started talking to Catherine.

Their amazing conversation lasted over an hour.

The wise snowy owl convinced Catherine that it was time she took matters into her own hands and put an end to Robbie’s noble intentions by staging a seduction a saint couldn’

t resist.

And so, armed with Mary’s surprisingly simple and insightful opinion on courage and fear, and with her blessing, Catherine set a wedding date for that Friday. Mud season had shut down the logging operation, and the boys were only too eager to help put an end to Robbie’s bachelorhood—although Catherine suspected they really saw the marriage as a guarantee that they’d be keeping their housekeeper.

For three days after school, the boys rode up to the cabin where Catherine had first come face-to-face with Robbie. They cleaned it from top to bottom, stacked firewood, made some minor repairs, and even tied a mattress to poor Sprocket’s back and lugged it up the mountain.

With Winter’s help, Catherine called Robbie’s extended family and told them where and when the wedding was and asked them please to keep it a surprise. She also promised they’d have a nice reception the next day at the farm.

Even Kate got into the spirit of things, though she was still wrestling with losing Ian—

torn between missing him and being happy for him, knowing he was where he belonged. Kate had a doctor’s appointment in Bangor that Friday and asked Robbie to drive her to it. If Robbie thought her request was strange, he never said anything. He’d only kissed Catherine good-bye that morning and left to go pick up Kate.

It was now four-thirty on Friday afternoon, the summit of TarStone was littered with three generations of MacKeages and MacBains, Catherine had twisted her bouquet of forget-me-nots into a tangle of weeds, and Robbie was late.

“Maybe he didn’t get yar note,” Michael said, standing beside her, his hands tucked behind his back as he watched the path coming up the mountain.

“He couldn’t miss it. I set it on the table, right on top of an apple pie.”

“Aye, that would catch his attention,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Catherine,” he said, turning to face her. “Have ya not heard from Daniels?”

She looked down at her mangled bouquet. “No, nothing,” she whispered. “Maybe he’s dead.”

Michael lifted her chin to look at him. “Pray he isn’t, lass,” he said softly. “Because I agree with my son. Facing your past is important.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “But I no longer need to see Ron.” She widened her smile. “Heck, after what I went through four weeks ago, Ron Daniels isn’t even a worry anymore, much less a fear.”

Her almost-father-in-law lifted one brow. “Just like that?” he asked. “You’ve simply erased several years of yar life?”

“Every day of it,” she confirmed. “Except for Nathan and Nora’s birthdays. I’ve decided that sometimes, to find something wonderful, you have to go through a great trial.” She stepped closer and touched his arm. “After all you’ve gone through in your life, was it not ultimately worth it to have Libby and your children and grandchildren? Would you wish it all away in order to avoid the trials you endured to get here?”