He shuffled over to the refrigerator and pulled out a small bottle of orange juice. With his brow wrinkled even tighter in concentration, he finally worked the cap loose with his arthritic grasp.
“What do ye mean when ye say ye saw something reflected in the water? Have ye seen whether she returns with us to the past?” Caelan wasn’t certain he wanted to hear the answer, but he needed to know the truth of it so he might prepare himself.
“I called up the reflection to see if I was to assist in her healing. To see if her life was threatened in any way.” Emrys drained the bottle of juice, mopped his mustache with his sleeve, then tossed the empty container into the tall black trash bin.
“I did not look to see if she returns with us. Ye must go carefully with what ye ask and with what ye do with the knowledge once ye receive it. Every action causes a ripple, a consequence. I do ken well enough that ye must use this time to draw her closer to ye—win her heart. That is the only way to teach her it is safe to trust ye, and she nay has to fear being hurt again.”
Hitching his way across the room to the back door, he paused with his hand on the knob. “And be patient with the lass. The two of ye have a few trials yet, but nothing ye canna overcome.” After a sly wink, he was out the door with Maizy at his heels before Caelan could ask anything more.
Caelan snorted in exasperation. He should have known better than to try to get a straight answer out of the old druid. It seemed the concept of a simple yes or no completely escaped the ancient man.
Fetching the pot from the coffeemaker, he moved to the sink to fill it, trying to remember exactly what he’d read about making coffee. The old druid usually made it for them every morning. All the gadgets of this complicated time made Caelan’s head feel as though it were about to burst. Nothing was as simple as building a fire or saddling a horse. Everything involved intricate steps that, if not followed precisely could end in disastrous results. He daren’t risk revealing his ignorance of such things. At least, not until he was sure of her heart.
He lowered himself into a chair at the small kitchen table, eyeing the machine and waiting. A huff of relief left him as the coffee appeared to brew as he had seen it do when Rachel and Emrys made it. Thank the gods and goddesses. It looked like he’d done it correctly.
The slightest sound came from the bedroom. The sound of movement that should not be. He hurried down the hallway just as Sam came trotting out of the bedroom door. The dog sprang up and down in an excited bounce, then yipped and spun to return to the bedroom. Apparently, he’d been headed to fetch Caelan as he’d been instructed.
Rachel teetered on the edge of the bed, bleary-eyed and her knuckles white as she clutched the mattress to keep from falling.
“What the devil are ye doing!” Caelan rushed across the room and caught her up in his arms just as she was falling forward.
Her violet eyes flared wide with surprise. She squeaked and tried to cover herself with her arms. “What are you doing in here?”
As he eased her back onto the bed, she caught up the sheet and yanked it across her. With her arms tucked tight to her sides and clutching the covers to her chest, she glared at him. Fury and indignation flashed in her eyes. “Answer me! What are you doing in here?”
“I am here because ye are in no condition to stay by yourself! Ye need caring for, and I’m the one to do it.” He sat on the edge of the bed and steadied her with an arm around her shoulders. “Do ye not remember what happened? How the chain nearly cleaved ye in two because ye refused to listen and heed my advice?”
Rachel narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth like a cornered animal. “Typical male. First thing you say isI told you so.Go away and leave me alone. I can take care of myself. Always have. Always will.”
Before he could stop her, she floundered closer to the edge of the bed and slid her feet to the floor, biting her bottom lip as she stubbornly fought the pain.
“Rachel! Let me help ye.”
“I do not need your help,” she said through clenched teeth. She swayed and caught hold of the dresser for support, breathing heavily as though she had just run a race.
He stood beside her, shifting back and forth as he fought the temptation to sweep her back up in his arms. Why would she not let him help her? “What are ye trying to do, lass? Are ye hungry? Are ye wanting water? Coffee? What the feck is it? Tell me so I can help ye!”
His temper rising, he struggled to keep his tone below the level of an enraged roar. Never in all his life had he met such a stubborn woman. What the devil did they teach them in this century? What the feck was wrong with letting a man take care of them? He caught hold of her arm as she swayed to one side again.
“If you must know,” she hissed, “I have to use the bathroom, and you are not going to help me!”
He scrubbed his face and sent up a prayer to the Goddess Brid for patience. Without another word, he calmly picked her up and cradled her gently to cause her as little discomfort as possible. He moved through the narrow bathroom door, stood her in front of the toilet, and tried to take the sheet from her.
“I can handle it!” She slapped at his hands, flinching with the movement but not surrendering without a fight. Her fire and stubbornness both angered and thrilled him. What passion this woman had—if only she had the good sense to go along with it.
“Go away,” she growled.
“Stubborn woman,” Caelan muttered as he turned and stood in the doorway with his back to her.
“You are not going to stand there while I try to pee!”
“I am, and there is nothing ye can do about it.”
He didn’t bother to turn his head and look at her, just jutted his chin higher and ground his teeth in determination. The lovely Miss Rachel Hawkins was not the only stubborn person in this wee house.
Something hit the back of his head, then thunked to the floor. He snorted. It would take more than a wee cake of soap to bring him down.
“Go away!” she growled again, then yelped. Apparently, the longer she was on her feet, the worse her pain became.
