Dougall looked at his father differently now. All those years of feeling unloved and unworthy had melted away and now he thought he’d truly miss him.
Paddraig gathered him into a hug and whispered only loud enough for Dougall to hear. “Ye give the lairdship some thought, will ye?”
“I will, but as ye’ve noted, Fingall would make a fine laird.” He quietly answered. It was a secret kept between himself and his Da.
“Aye. I’d rather it be ye, but if ye decide against it, then Fingall ’twill be.” He continued hugging his son. “Dougall, if ye see that lassie, Helene, please give her me apologies.”
“I will, Da, but I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”
“I’m sorry, lad. I shouldnae have interfered. Don’t let me stop ye from finding her and making things right.”
Dougall didn’t wish to explain to his father about time traveling to the future. He’d think him a daft idjit. There was no point in telling him anyway. It wouldn’t change things with Helene. “Goodbye, Da.”
“Logan, take care of me boy.”
“Yes, sir.”
They mounted their horses, waved goodbye and began their journey back to Breaghacraig. They’d take a different route this time as Dougall didn’t wish to pass the spot where he’d made Helene his for the first time. He simply couldn’t bear it.
Alone again anda cup of tea in hand, Helene sat curled up on the sofa, staring into the fire blazing in the hearth. Zeke’s cat Milly purred softly, nestling into the soft blanket covering Helene’s legs. It was a chilly night in San Francisco despite the fact it was almost mid-June. Mentally she had drifted off to Breaghacraig and the first time she’d really noticed Dougall. Helene had a secret spot she would go to on the castle wall that looked down on the practice field. There she observed the warriors of Breaghacraig as they engaged each other in mock battle. She didn’t know why she hadn’t noticed him before, because this particular day he stood out so completely she hardly noticed anyone else on the field. His long, curly blonde locks cascaded across his bare shoulders, causing an unexpected reaction in Helene’s stomach. Butterflies, hummingbirds and dragonflies all beat their wings at a frantic pace and she found herself gripping the stones atop the battlement to steady herself. From that moment onward, she was acutely aware of Dougall MacRae, although he didn’t seem to notice her at all. A soft smile curled her lips at the memory, followed by a sadness for what should have been. A silent tear coursed down her cheek and plopped into her cup of tea.
The fire began to pop and spark, startling Helene from her reverie.
“Helene!”
Did someone call her name?
“Helene, ’tis I, Edna Campbell.”
She stiffened, afraid to move. Milly didn’t seem at all concerned as she snored softly from her spot in the blankets.
“Are ye nae going to answer me?” the voice said, sounding somewhat perturbed.
She hesitated, but if this was truly Edna Campbell, then Helene needed to speak with her.
“Aye. Edna?”
“Helene, I’m speaking to ye from far away. I ken ye dinnae understand how I’m doing this, but ye ken I’m a witch, aye?”
“A witch.” Helene muttered.
“Come, lass. Ye must have more to say than that.”
“Why did ye make me come here?”
“Ah, at last. I didnae make ye go there. Well, I guess I did, but in me defense ye had no food and were in a terrible state. I couldnae fix it for ye from here, so I sent ye to San Francisco where I knew Zeke would be more than happy to help ye.”
“Aye, but he’s fallen in love with me and I cannae return his feelings.”
“Well of course ye cannae. He’s not meant to be with ye, so dinnae fret over his happiness. It will come.”
“If I’m nae meant to be with Zeke, then who?”
“Dougall MacRae.”
Helene’s heart skipped a beat. “He’s nae here with me. He left without me. I dinnae believe he really wishes to be with me.”
“He does. Verra much so.”
