“Is this what ye have come to, Reid Campbell?” the old woman asked. “Leading men against yer own kin? Is this the life ye have chosen?”
Reid’s nostrils flared. Her words cut deep and stung him to anger. “Who are ye? How do ye know my name?”
“Who else would ye be? Yer infamy spreads throughout the Highlands. Currents swirl around ye, my boy, currents of time and circumstance. Yer name will be remembered down the ages. The question is: what will it be remembered for? Destroying the Highlands or saving them?”
Reid ripped his arm from her grip. “Leave me be!”
He was much taller than she was. His life over the last few years had made him strong and muscled. She ought to be intimidated by him. But, despite his bravado, it was the other way around. Something about this woman set him on edge. Something about those deep, dark eyes that seemed to pierce him like a spear made him want to duck his head and hide. He glared at her, and for a moment, the two of them were engaged in a staring match, neither wanting to look away.
He was pleased when the old woman sighed and looked away first. “Ah, my boy,” she said softly. “Look at the path ye have chosen. Look where it is leading ye. To darkness and despair. But there is another way, if ye choose to take it.”
“Who are ye?” he demanded. “Why are ye saying these things to me?”
She cocked her head to one side and regarded him solemnly. “My name is Irene MacAskill.”
The name stirred a hazy recognition in him. Where had he heard it before? The memory fluttered out of reach and he could not catch it. “Well, Irene MacAskill,” he grated. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasnae. I thank ye for yer words, but I respectfully say that ye dinna know what ye are talking about.”
Irene nodded sagely. “Perhaps I dinna. Perhaps I’m just a foolish old woman. Or perhaps I can give ye the glimmer of hope ye so desperately need. Know this, Reid Campbell: yer choice is coming. Carry on this road or choose another. The choice is yers. Someone will come who will show ye that choice.” She stepped closer and gazed up at him with those dark eyes. In them, Reid saw a world of sadness and compassion. She reached up to gently pat his cheek. “Choose wisely, my boy.”
With that, she gave the dogs one last scratch, then turned and walked away. Reid watched her go, a war of thoughts and emotions surging through him. Who did she think she was, talking to him like that?
“Wait!” he shouted. “Ye canna just—” He took a few steps after her and then stopped. There was no sign of the old woman, just a deer bounding away through the trees.
Bo and Whitefoot whined, slinked over to him, and batted his hand with their great heads, wanting attention. Reid patted them distractedly. He stared in the direction Irene MacAskill had gone, feeling unsettled.
Is this what ye have come to, Reid Campbell?
What choice do I have?he thought.We make the best of the hand that is dealt us.
It was an old litany, one he’d told himself countless times over the years. Saying it now made him feel a little better, made the unease from Irene’s words melt away. He glanced at his dogs and then at the keep behind him.
He strode into the trees, whistling for the dogs to follow. He had a job to do. Time to get started.
Chapter 3
There was definitelysomething wrong with the car. Abi was no expert, but even she knew that it shouldn’t feel this sluggish and be making that strange noise. With a hiss of frustration, she pulled over and climbed out. Yep. There it was. Her right front tire was as flat as a pancake.
