“Aye,” Irene agreed. “But do ye know where ye aregoing?”
“Back to the pub,” Caitlin replied with forced joviality. “Just as soon as I get down this rockface. I reckon I’ve earned a nice, cool drink.”
Her attempt at lightheartedness had no effect on Irene. The old woman didn’t smile as she said, “I suggest ye stay a while longer. There is something ye need to find up here and it isnae just a cat stuck up a tree.”
Caitlin felt a flash of irritation. Who was this old woman to tell her what to do? She didn’t know anything about her, her life, her struggles. She was just a crazy old cat lady who lived in the woods.
“Thank you for the suggestion, but I don’t need your advice,” she said, her voice harsher than she intended. “I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m fine on my own.”
Irene just watched her with those inscrutable eyes. “Is that so?”
Caitlin opened her mouth to argue, to tell Irene to mind her own business, but then she stopped.
The memory of that night flooded her mind, the night that had shattered her world into a million pieces and left her struggling to pick them all up again. It was an effort to push it back down.
Irene sighed. “I understand that ye want to be strong, lassie. But there’s a difference between being strong and being stubborn. Sometimes, to truly be strong, ye have to be willing to ask for help. And I’m here to offer ye mine.”
Caitlin said nothing, but she was feeling more unsettled by the moment. Why was this old woman—and her cat—out here at the top of a cliff that only a climber could get to? And why was she saying all these strange things? There was something...something Caitlin couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“How?” she found herself asking in a small voice. “How can you help me?”
Irene gave her a small smile. “I’m offering ye a chance to find what ye are looking for, my dear: the other half of yerself. A chance to heal and to move forward. But ye have to be willing to take it.”
“And how do I do that?”
Irene gestured to the surrounding landscape. “Ye start by listening to what the wilderness has to say.”
“It doesn’t say anything.”
“Are ye sure about that? If it doesnae speak to ye, then why do ye come up here? Why do ye seek its solace when there are so many other ways ye could drown yer sorrows?”
“I...” Caitlin had no answer to that.
“Some people call it fate, some call it destiny. I prefer to think of it as choice. Ye can choose to stay on this path or ye can choose another.” Irene’s voice was gentle but firm. “No choice is ever easy and yers will be no different. It is coming soon, my dear. If ye choose the harder, darker path, it will be fraught with hardship. But the destination will make the journey worth it. It will lead ye to the person ye are meant to be and the one who will help ye become that person.”
Despite herself, Caitlin felt something stirring inside her. It was faint, like a whisper in the wind, but it was there. She turned and looked behind her at the Highlands stretching out. Maybe Irene was right. Maybe she should stay a little while longer, just to catch her breath.
Irene MacAskill patted her shoulder. She was so short that she had to reach up to do it. “Think on my words, my dear, but dinna take too long. Yer choice will soon be upon ye. Come on, Baxter.”
With that, she turned around and walked off into the trees, Baxter trotting at her side with his bushy tail stuck straight up in the air.
Caitlin watched them go. She almost went after them to demand answers to her questions. But she didn’t know how to frame those questions. And besides, she wasn’t sure she would like the answers. In only moments, the old woman and her cat had disappeared into the trees.
Caitlin shook herself. That was weird. Still, it was a story to tell when she got back to the pub this afternoon.
Her stomach growled loudly. It was well past midday and she’d been climbing all morning, working up an appetite. She looked around for a decent lunch spot and set off deeper into the trees.
She finally settled on a shady spot by a small stream. She took out her rucksack and began rummaging through it for the bland cheese and tomato sandwiches she’d made for herself this morning. As she ate, she watched the water flow over rocks and pebbles, the sunlight glinting off its surface. It was peaceful here, the only sounds the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the gentle babble of the water.
But then something caught her eye. There was a reflection in the water: a face. She leaned down and saw it was the face of a man with messy blond hair. What the hell? She jumped up, startled, and spun around, searching. But there was nobody there.
Glancing back at the water, she saw that the reflection was still there. There was something...familiar...about the figure, even though she couldn’t see the face clearly. For some unaccountable reason, Caitlin felt like she ought to know him.
A sudden gust of wind swept through the clearing, sending leaves swirling around her feet. Caitlin shivered and pulled her jacket tighter around her. Slowly, she reached out a hand and touched the surface of the water. The ripples distorted the reflection, making it impossible to see the man’s face. Caitlin felt a sudden urge to dive into the water and find out who he was, to uncover the mystery that seemed to be lurking just below the surface.
But then the wind died and the water stilled. The reflection vanished without a trace.Yep. You really are going crazy,she told herself.Perhaps you need to go back to see Dr Clifford.
Finishing her sandwiches, she screwed the brown paper bag into a ball, tucked it back into her pack with a sigh, and stood up. The sun was starting to fall from its zenith and the afternoon was wearing on. It was time to start her climb down if she wanted to get back to the hotel before dark.
