She checked the deep front pocket of her canvas jacket and pulled them out. “No.”
He caught up with her and took them, then pressed the alarm button on the key fob. Nothing happened, but his grin grew even wider.
“What are ye doing?” Bless her soul; she couldn’t bear it if this craziness had pushed the lad over the edge.
“If there is even the smallest bit of the time wrinkle still open, the signal will get through and set off the panic alarms.” The impishness dancing in his eyes made her smile. “I thought it a nice way to bid those kind ladies farewell, ye ken?”
She needed the levity, and he knew it. “Ye are rotten!”
“Aye. But ye love me for it.”
“That I do.” She took the keys and shoved them back into her pocket. Silly thing to do, really. But she wasn’t quite ready to let go of anything from the time where they belonged. “Come on. Humor me. Let’s sit up there a bit. What harm can come from it?” He needed to realize how badly she needed for them to at least try to get back.
He rolled his eyes, but waved her onward and dutifully followed.
She looked all around to ensure she was in the exact spot as before, then sat back down. They faced the same direction. She pointed for Robbie to sit on her right just as before. With her pack still on her back, she drew up her knees and hugged them. Now to wait. And pray. And wish. Maybe even plead with every power in the universe.
Robbie plopped down beside her and did the same. After a few moments of staring up at the clouds, he started whistling.
“Must ye?” He knew she hated when he whistled off-key.
“What? Afraid I’ll scare it away?”
“Robbie.”
He immediately won her forgiveness with another impish grin. “It will not work, Mi. If we dinna have a way to create that much energy, another natural occurrence could take millions of years to build. Think of it like a volcano. Dormant for years until enough pressure builds to make it erupt. There was once volcanic activity in Scotland, ye ken? Last eruption was some fifty-five million years ago. Whatever that storm was could be the same.”
“Ye are making my head hurt worse.” She frowned up at the sky that was growing lighter rather than darker. “We could pray?”
His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “I dinna pray anymore. Not since Mama and Da got killed.”
“Sorry.” She should have known better than to say that. A defeated sigh escaped her as she pushed to her feet. “Come on. Ye were right. It’s not coming back. At least, not by the looks of the sky.”
He hopped up and took the lead, bounding down the slope back to the road. She followed at a more sedate pace, terrified at what lay ahead. After walking to the middle of the rutted path, she checked both directions. “Should we head to Fort William? Or, at least, where it might be? Or back toward Stirling?”
“I dinna remember reading when wagons were invented. Do ye know?” He squatted down and frowned at the ruts.
“It could be anytime. The wheel was invented in the fourth millennium BC, and wagons as early as the first century BC.” She crouched down beside him. “Looks like the horses are shod. Manufacturing horseshoes became widespread during the thirteenth and fourteenth century.”
“Well done you on remembering historical dates and such.” His admiration made her smile.
“I am a font of useless information.” She straightened and looked in both directions again. “King David I created Stirling as a royal burgh in 1130. Fort William wasna built until 1654. Since Stirling is older, shall we head there first?”
“Makes sense to me.” He looped his arm through hers and tugged. “And dinna fash yerself. We’re going to be finer than fine. I know math and science backward and forward, and ye know history inside and out. Between the two of us, we can manage anything.”
“I admire yer confidence.” She wished she felt the same.
They plodded along at a leisurely pace, stopping occasionally for sips of water and to remove their jackets when the sun broke through the clouds. Robbie’s high spirits and ready acceptance of their predicament worried her even more. The lad didn’t realize the dangers. They had no coin of the day—whatever the day was. No shelter. A scant amount of food. No weapons and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did. And her close-fitting jeans, their backpacks, and his t-shirt with its glow-in-the-dark scientific symbols could get them arrested, hanged, or burned at the stake for witchcraft.
She kept a sharp eye for any sign of other travelers. As they walked, she constantly noted where they might run and hide if need be. She didn’t intend to approach anyone until she had watched them for a bit and determined if they were safe. Descended from a long line of Wiccans, she’d never had to study the history of witch trials. Her grandmother had shared enough horrifying stories of what some of her ancestors had suffered. She and Robbie needed to take the utmost care with everything they said and did.
“This is a dangerous time, ye understand? No matter what century it might be?”
He frowned up at her. “I know we canna let them know we’re from the future. Is that what ye mean?”
“Aye. That is exactly what I mean. Mind every word ye say.” Best leave it at that for now. The lad was smart. He understood.
“What is that sound?”
