“I will see the surface begin to shift and move, like water,” she replied. “I usually feel something in my belly before it occurs, and I know that I must keep my eyes focused on the stone.”
Hoofbeats thundered up the hill just then, and Raonaid spun around. “Who is that? They’ll spoil it.”
Both women walked to the edge of the circle and spotted John and Lachlan galloping up the hill.
“You shouldn’t have come here alone,” Lachlan said, his eyes dark with agitation. “It’s not safe.”
Catherine slanted a look at him. “I’m not alone. I walked with Raonaid. We are here to reclaim my memories, so you must leave us.”
“No,” he firmly replied.
Raonaid laid a hand on one of the stones. “I cannot do this if you are watching. The visions will not come. You must go back to the house.”
John’s horse grew skittish. “We’ll be quiet,” John promised. “You won’t even know we are here.”
“Turn around and go back,” Raonaid demanded. “At least to the bottom of the hill. We will call out to you when it’s over, but it may take all day.”
Lachlan fixed his eyes on Catherine. “Are you all right with this?”
She saw the concern in his expression and was immediately whisked back to the pleasure they had shared in bed the night before.
“I am fine,” she assured him. “I will come to you afterward. I promise.”
As she stood in the place where they first met, she knew without a doubt that she loved him—and desperately so—but she needed to remember the past, to understand the dreams and nightmares. How could she ever give her whole heart to him—or to anyone—without knowing who she really was?
“Will you wait?” she asked.
“Of course I will wait. I’ll keep watch from below. I will not leave.”
She felt almost dizzy with love for him and prayed that a vision would soon come and free her from this empty cage.
“Go away now.” Raonaid scooted them off with a flick of her hand. “I need the world to stay quiet.”
Lachlan wheeled his horse around but gave Catherine a quick nod before he and John galloped away.
With a hopeful rush of anticipation, she turned to follow Raonaid back to the center of the circle.
***
Shortly before noon, a low cloud cover moved across the sky and the wind picked up. Raonaid’s gaze shot instantly to the tallest standing stone. She stared at it for a long moment while the wind whipped at her long flowing hair and heavy skirts.
She held out a hand and said to Catherine, “Come with me.”
They walked together to the stone and knelt down before it.
“Look there.” Raonaid pointed at the tiny grooves and ridges in the rock. “Do you see it moving?”
Catherine squinted and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “No, I do not see anything.”
“Keep looking. Let your eyes lose their focus. Breathe slowly and try to relax. Hold my hand.”
They sat side by side, staring at the stone.
Flashes of images began to appear, impossible to identify at first, but then Catherine began to recognize elements from her dreams—the baby and the blue pillow, the dirt flying through the air, landing on her face and body. She saw a man—a handsome man standing over her grave—shoveling the dirt. Light flashed in her brain.
There was a house in the woods.
A carriage.
