Trish slid back and drummed her own heels against the rock, matching her rhythm with Ramsay’s kicking bounce. “And what would your family do without you? Your mom would be totally lost. And who would Catriona pester? The rest of the boys are afraid of her.”
“Ma’s fixin’ to have another bairn. She wouldna even notice I was gone.” Ramsay’s scowl remained locked on the tips of his boots, head bent, glaring at his swinging feet as if he was waiting for them to disappear.
“You know better than that.” Trish cringed at the scolding tone creeping into her voice.Yuck.She sounded just like Nessa. Stilling her feet, she planted both hands on either side of her thighs, leaned forward, and scanned the wreckage scattered across the floor. “Is the new baby the reason you were trying to go to the past? Are you afraid you’re not going to get any attention here once your little sister is born?”
“Hell no!”
“Ramsay?”
“Yousay it. I’ve heard ye say worse than that many times. ’Specially when ye didna know I was around.” Ramsay puffed out his narrow chest, crossing his spindly arms over the grubby front of his shirt. “And I wasna tryin’ to get to the past. I was tryin’ to fold time and space and make it to yer dig before ye left. I was gonna surprise ye. Catriona’s a stupid nosy-butt. She peeks into Auntie Fiona’s paperback books. That’s where she got it in her head that I was tryin’ to travel back in time.” Ramsay shook his head, cutting his eyes sideways to lock an irritated glare fully on Trish’s face. “I hate girls.”
“Really?” Trish clamped her lips into a stern flat line. If she allowed Ramsay to witness the slightest hint of her amusement, not only would it hurt his feelings but her planned lecture would fall on deaf ears. “So, does that mean you hate me? I’m a girl.”
Ramsay’s smudged cheek shrugged deep into his collar as he stared down at the floor. No answer. Just the sullen thudding of two little boots banging against the stone.
“Ram. Talk to me.” Trish leaned closer, nudging his little shoulder with hers. She had to get him to open up or he would never listen to reason.
“I don’t hate you.” Came the muffled reply as Ramsay tucked his chin deeper into his dark flannel shirt. “I just hate that Catty made me look like a dummy. I know how to work my spells. I know how to match them with the wheel.” Peeping up around his collar, Ramsay’s blue eyes flinched into angry slits. “If she hadna come in and ruined everything, I would’ve shown up by your side. I wouldha surprised ye. Now it’s too late and I can’t prove to nobody that I know what I’m doing.”
Poor Ram. Trish knew from personal experience that nothing burned worse than knowing in your heart you were capable of doing something but no one believed it but you.
“I tell you what.” Trish curtailed the urge to smooth Ramsay’s wild hair back behind his ears. “Once you get this mess cleaned up and you’re not in trouble anymore, you can work the spell just for me and we’ll travel somewhere together. How would that be?”
“I’ll be a flippin’ eighty-year-old man afore I get this mess cleaned up the hard way.” Ramsay whacked his heels harder against the stone perch.” And Ma ain’t never gonna let me outta my room.”
Trish bit her tongue and held her breath. She must not laugh. “Now, Ram. You know you’ve been in hot water before and it didn’t last that long. You’ve survived solitary confinement to your room before.”
“I canna try the spell later. Well, at least not until a whole lot later. I hafta match the wheel.”
Trish frowned, scanning the shadowed floor of the dingy room and the crooked shelves still holding what few items had survived the blast. “What wheel are you talking about? I don’t see any wheel. Did it get blown away or something?”
Ramsay rolled his eyes and blew out an exaggerated sigh as though he couldn’t believe Trish’s naiveté. “Theseasonalwheel, Auntie Trish. Today is Winter Solstice.”
“Ahh.” Trish nodded. The phases of the moon and proper timing had made a huge difference all those years ago when Latharn had saved Nessa from a black-hearted sorceress. Apparently, MacKay magic drew its potency from nature and the eternal cycle of the universe. “So, I guess your spell will only work on Winter Solstice?”
“Auntie Trish.” Ramsay’s voice settled into a strained placating tone. “It’ll work on either of the solstices or either of the equinoxes.” Dragging his sleeve under his running nose, the boy sniffed as he continued. “I’m pretty sure it’ll work on the fire festival too but I’m not positive.”
Trish fished a tissue out of her pocket, grabbed Ramsay by the back of the head with one hand and pinched the tissue against his nose with the other. “Blow.”
Ramsay narrowed his eyes over the folds of the tissue.
“Blow, Ram. You know how much it grosses me out when you wipe your nose on your sleeve.”
Ramsay trumpeted a gust of wind out his nose and grabbed the tissue to finish the job himself. “I’m not a baby. I can wipe my own nose.”
“Then don’t act like a baby by using your sleeve and sniffing.” Trish shuddered and pulled another tissue out from the depths of her pocket. “Here. Take this one for later.”
Ramsay snatched the wadded tissue out of her hand and shoved it into his sporran. Running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, Ramsay avoided Trish’s gaze and stared across the room.
Trish groaned. Not good. Whenever the boy worked the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip it meant he’d shifted into plotting mode. They’d all learned to pick up on that telltale sign before Ramsay even learned to walk. “What’s buzzing around in that head of yours, Ram? You haven’t even gotten out of the doghouse over this...” Trish waved a hand, encompassing the chaos of the entire room from the overturned tables and emptied shelves to the tattered plaids dangling from the walls.
“I was just thinkin’.” Ramsay shrugged a dusty shoulder while starting a slow rocking motion from side to side.
Grabbing the child by the shoulders, Trish forced him to sit still. “Out with it, Ram. Whenever you stick out your tongue and start rocking, you’re always up to something that you generally shouldn’t do.”
Ramsay widened his eyes and laid a hand to his chest, failing at a weak attempt to cover the mischief beaming from his face with a look of complete innocence. “I was just thinkin’ that if ye’d let me try the spell again, I could sift ye to yer room and ye wouldna have to walk through that ole dark tunnel again.”
Bullshit.Trish bit her tongue against her favorite expletive, reminding herself that Ram didn’t need any additions to his already colorful vocabulary. The twinkle in his eyes was a dead giveaway that he still itched to try that spell. Forcing an appreciative expression across her face, Trish slowly rose and moved a few feet away. “So, you’re trying to redeem yourself by being considerate, worried that I’ll be scared in the tunnel? Is that what I’m hearing?”
