She was falling, the wind rushing against her body, the deafening sound of water crashing on the rocks below echoing in her ears. Her head began to throb and for a moment she felt like her body was shattering into a million pieces, yet she hadn’t hit the ground. Certain she was about to die, Katherine mumbled a prayer and braced herself for the impact. But before it happened, everything went black.

Katherine moaned and brought a hand to her brow. Her head pounded and every muscle in her body ached. “Where am I?” she mumbled, but she couldn’t open her eyes. The sensation and terror of falling into an abyss was so vivid, so real. She remembered being on a cliff, struggling with a man who was trying to kill her, when the ground beneath their feet gave way. She’d heard Ayden call out her name as he lunged in her direction, in a heroic, last-ditch effort to save her.

Terrified, she struggled to wake up. When she finally opened her eyes and her vision cleared, she was stunned to find herself curled up in the chair in Agnes’s sitting room, with the journal on her lap.

 Ayden? Had he fallen too or did he manage to stay on solid ground? She prayed for the latter, but it all happened so fast. They were standing atop the cliff beside the water fall. MacConnery had his arm draped around her throat, and her arm wrenched behind her back. He’d just confessed to betraying his countrymen at Stirling Castle to the English King in exchange for land and title.

He and Ayden were arguing one minute and they were falling the next. She clutched a hand to her throat. MacConnery was responsible for Catriona’s death. She hadn’t killed herself after all. If nothing more, her journey to the past disproved the seven-hundred-year-old theory that her ancestor had committed suicide. Yet the burning question remained. Had she actually gone back in time to uncover he truth about Catriona’s death, or had she dreamed it all?

Unfortunately, knowing the truth didn’t automatically fix things. Catriona’s body still remained in unhallowed ground, and there was no way Katherine could make things right if she was no longer in the past and able to tell anyone what she knew about that fateful day. She prayed Ayden survived, so he could see the wrong she was sent to fix was set right.

Maybe, I could do something about it now, she thought. Once her week at Glen Heather was up and she owned the property outright, she could go to the kirk and do everything in her power to have Catriona’s body moved to a fitting resting place. She had no doubt that when she told her story, people would think her mad, but she felt she owed it to Catriona to try.

She’d solved the mystery of how she died, but was powerless to prevent it from happening again. She hung her head, suddenly swamped by an overpowering rush of sadness and grief. Knowing Catriona died for the second time caused her heart to ache. It was like a huge part of her had been torn away, leaving a massive hole in its place.

And Ayden? Hot tears tracked down her cheeks when she pictured his face, the look of pure adoration she saw in his eyes when they made love for the first time, the look of terror on his face when he tried to keep her from toppling to her death with MacConnery. She loved him so and never had the chance to say goodbye, and likely never would. She slid her hand over her belly, and released a shuddered breath. What of their child? Would she still be pregnant?

Again her heart clenched when she thought about raising their babe alone, a child Ayden would never know he had.

By now the tears flowed freely, her body trembling and wracked by sobs. She buried her face in her hands and released a torrent of tears, crying until she could cry no more.

A nearly spent tallow candle sputtered and winked from the table beside her, but other than the one taper and the rays of a full moon shining in the window, the room was chilly and dark. She shivered and glanced at the fireplace. But where a roaring fire once burned, nothing remained, except for a pile of ash. She scratched her head, wondering how long she had actually been asleep. It was early afternoon when she settled in to read the journal and now it was obviously nighttime.

The thought of food made her stomach growl. She was starving and felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. The baby again came to mind. When in the past, the mere idea of eating caused her to retch. She’d been there for almost two months and yet if she guessed correctly, only a few hours had passed since she’d fallen asleep in the present. Would she still be pregnant or would that be a memory from the past as well? She certainly had not slept in the chair for two months so concluded that time moved at different rated depending on if you were in past or present.

She stood and after taking a minute to stretch out some kinks in her neck and spine, she retrieved a new candle from the mantle and used the flame from the dying one to light it, along with an oil lamp she found on the table. Having no electricity was going to take some getting used to, along with a lot of other things. “No running water, no shower, no fridge, no stove,” she prattled off what was only a fraction of her endless list. But if Agnes could live here without modern conveniences, so could she.

 With enough light to guide her way, Katherine took the candle, lantern, and snatched up the journal, then made her way into the hallway. When she first arrived at the cottage, the idea of living there alone didn’t bother her. In fact she relished the idea, but after her time in the past, she wasn’t so sure she could go it alone. Especially if she was still carrying Ayden’s child. Again Ayden flooded her mind, her heart twisting in her chest, the weight of her grief like a heavy stone she’d be destined to carry for a very long time.

Upon entering the room that had reminded her of a parlor, she jumped, startled when a clock gonged, then did so eight more times. “That’s odd,” she muttered as she approached the mantle. “This old relic wasn’t working the last time I looked. It was stuck on midnight, just like my —” She stopped midsentence when she glanced at her digital wrist watch and realized it too read nine o’clock.

And while she should have been beside herself with fear — given two more strange paranormal-like occurrences to add to the roster of peculiar events — she found herself surprisingly calm. Either her sanity had flown the coop altogether or she’d resigned herself to the claim that unexplainable things happened in Scotland and nowhere else in the world. Perhaps it was a little of both, she concluded, but so far no real harm had come to her except for the void losing Ayden had left her heart

She continued toward the kitchen, although her appetite was suddenly gone. But if she was still expecting, she had to think of the baby, so if necessary would force herself to eat.

Upon entering the kitchen, Katherine stopped dead in her tracks. The fire on the hearth in this room had also burned to ash. On the table beside her purse she spotted three cardboard boxes, and on the floor was a small steel cooler. These were definitely not there when she had her breakfast or visited with Noreen, so she decided that someone must have brought them when she was napping. It was the only logical conclusion she could come up with.

Curious what the boxes contained, she set the lantern, the candle, and the journal on the table, then opened the first one. It was filled with canned goods, including a variety of soups, pasta sauce, tuna, a can of some sort of luncheon meat — which she wouldn’t eat in a million years — peaches, fruit cocktail, and vegetables. In the next carton she found packets of instant oatmeal, a box of corn flakes, a loaf of whole wheat bread, macaroni, sugar, flour, peanut butter, honey, some other nonperishable condiments, apples, and a bag of potatoes. In the last, she found personal items like soap, tampons, shampoo, and toothpaste.

As promised, MacBain and Murray had provided everything she needed. Well, maybe not everything, but she could certainly survive for a week on what they’d brought. After which, she could do her own shopping and stock up on a healthier selection of food.

She eyed the cooler and lifted it to the table. Since there was no electricity in the croft, and therefore no refrigerator, keeping things on ice was her only option. In addition to the frozen block, she found a carton of eggs, milk, yogurt, meat, butter, cheese, and a note explaining that a fresh supply of cold foods would be left by her door at 9 am each day, along with a new block of ice.

She tugged one of the chairs from beneath the table and sat. The honeymoon faze of her stay at Glen Heather appeared to have ended. From now on, she assumed she’d be preparing her own meals. “Perhaps I’ll opt for a peanut butter and honey sandwich, something requiring no culinary skills,” she chuckled to herself.

As she leaned back in her seat, contemplating whether she’d start a fire, go to the stream and fetch some water, or prepare a meal that required no cooking, a shiver of trepidation slithered up her spine, causing her blood to run cold. For a moment, she’d swear she wasn’t alone, like eyes were upon her, watching her every move. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way since her arrival at Glen Heather. And unlike the minor incident with the clock and watch, this was much more difficult to ignore. But when she glanced nervously around the room and saw no one, she released the breath she was holding and chalked it up to her imagination playing tricks on her again.

She decided the water could wait until morning, when the sun was out and she could easily find her way to the stream and back without tripping in a gopher hole and breaking a leg. For dinner, she settled on a peanut butter sandwiches, a staple that got her through many all-nighters of cramming when in university. But first, she thought it would be wise to put the rest of the stuff away and store it as high on a shelf as possible. In a place this old, she had no doubt she’d be sharing her abode with mice. She wasn’t afraid of them, but the thought of sharing her food with the little varmints was less than appealing. Spiders and cockroaches were another story. She shivered at the thought.

Katherine carried the boxes over to the shelf by the hearth and put the items away. Once she’d secured her supplies, she grabbed a plate, a knife, two slices of bread, and other items for her sandwich, then returned to the table. But as she was about to sit down, she heard a faint brushing sound coming from just outside the kitchen door.

Standing completely still, she listened, startled when she heard it again. Only this time it was louder and sounded like something had been tipped over. Her heart hammering, she picked up the knife and crept toward the door. It was too late for a visit from her neighbor or the lawyers, so she had no idea who or what it could be. But she wasn’t a fool, and didn’t plan to open the door and have someone attack her. She and her roommates had watched too many slasher films in University not to be careful. Her only intention was to make sure the door was barred. What she wouldn’t give for cell phone reception in case she needed it.

On the way by the window, she double-checked the shutters, making sure they were locked, then crept to the door. As she was about to slide the bar into place, she heard another bang, her heart leaping to her throat. Someone was definitely out there, of that she was now certain. Panic squeezed her chest and thoughts about what to do next raced through her mind. But as she slowly backed away, she heard a cat meow.

Feeling like a complete idiot, she opened the door a crack and grinned down at a tabby with four white paws, batting a leaf across the porch. She saw a broom laying on its side and concluded the cat had likely knocked it over while playing. “Hello, wee one, do you live around here?” She wondered if maybe the cat had belonged to her aunt. Feeling sorry for the little beast, she picked it up and carried it inside, then promptly secured the door.

“I’ll call you Tiger,” she said, then scratched the cat under its chin. “I know it’s not very original, but that and Mittens were the first two names that popped into my mind. Besides, I am not sure if you are a male or female.” She turned the cat over and checked beneath its tail. “Yep, Tiger it is, little fellow. But if I am pregnant, I better buy a book of baby names,” she chuckled. “I’ll bet you’re hungry,” she said as she put the cat down, then moved to the shelf and retrieved the can of luncheon meat. “As long as your taste in food is not as selective as mine, the mystery meat will have found a purpose.”

She scooped some onto a saucer and placed it on the floor, along with a bowl of water. “Go ahead and eat,” she cooed, pleased when Tiger tucked into the food with gusto. Having a cat around the house might prove to be good company, and it might help to keep her mind occupied and off Ayden. And unlike a dog, she didn’t have to take it out for walks. “Keeping the resident mouse population at bay is all I ask.” She scratched his back as the feline rubbed up against her legs, purring.

Deciding she’d had enough excitement for one night, Katherine opted to forego supper and grabbed an apple and a glass of milk instead. She tucked the journal under her arm, then picked up the lantern and candle, before leaving the kitchen. As she headed through the parlor with Tiger bounding ahead of her — as if he knew the way — she paused and once again glanced at the mantle clock. It was almost half-past-nine, but after sleeping most of the day away, she wasn’t tired. It was going to be a long, lonely night.

~ * ~

“Catriona.” Ayden shouted, then sat up with a start. He scrubbed his fist across his eyes and glanced at the room around him. He recognized the place immediately. He’d somehow ended up in the old hunting shack located in the wood on the border between Grant and MacAndrews land. How he got there and why, he had no idea, but the image of Catriona teetering on the edge of the cliff by the falls flooded his mind. He sprang to his feet and raced out of the small waddle and daub hut before sprinting toward the falls.

When Ayden arrived at the cliff, he noticed the earth along the edge of the ravine looked undisturbed. “That canna be, I saw the earth give way beneath MacConnery’s feet, just before he and Catriona fell.” Knowing the rim of the bluff was fragile, Ayden crawled to the edge and peered over, expecting to see the broken bodies of Catriona and MacConnery on the rocks below.

Upon reaching the edge of the cliff, he stared down at the rocky crag below. “Catriona,” he shouted.

“You’ll na find her there, Ayden.”

He whipped around when he recognized Malcolm MacBain’s voice. “Where the hell is she? I saw her fall.” He moved away from the edge and faced MacBain and Murray. “What happened back there?”

“The wrong was righted.”

“But did Catriona live or die? Did I?” Ayden asked. “When I saw the ground about to give way, I grabbed Catriona’s arm, but it slipped from by fingertips as we both plummeted over the edge. Yet I’m standing here and she’s vanished.”

Duncan Murray stepped forward. “The past is no longer relevant, but we do have more work to do here.”

“Like hell it’s not relevant. The woman I love just fell from a cliff and so did I. I want to know what happened to her and why I woke up in the old abandoned hunt camp.”

“Duncan is right. The past is the past and you have more to do here,” Malcolm replied.

Ayden dragged his finger through his hair. “You already sent me back once to fix my death at Stirling. Then you sent Catriona back to prove her death was not a suicide. Now you want more? Perhaps I’m really your slave for eternity.”

 “Nay. But you can always refuse and it all ends here and now,” Malcolm explained. “However, if you right this wrong, you will be granted your heart’s desire — and hers.”

His pulse raced when he heard the words. “Are you telling me Catriona dinna die? And that we might still be reunited?” If only it would true, he’d do anything. “What task is it I must do?”

“You’ll know it when you come upon it,” Duncan said and handed Ayden a piece of vellum. “Memorize these words then destroy the note. They are only to be used once and you will know when the time is right.”

“You have only partially completed your first task, as well,” MacBain pointed out. “And completing it works together with the final chore you must complete. You have to convince Catriona you love her, the woman she is today, not just the Catriona from the past, and she must return your love. She has to trust you before midnight. And you haven’t much time left.”

“Are you up to the task?” Duncan asked.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to be with Catriona,” he said.

What about Katherine MacDonald? Can you love her?” MacBain asked, then headed toward the woods.

Ayden ran to catch up. “What did you mean can I love Katherine MacDonald?

MacBain stopped and glared at Ayden. “It is a simple question. You said you would do anything for Catriona, the woman she was in the past. But can you love Katherine with equal intensity? She is the woman she is today.”

“They are the same person,” Ayden said.

“Are they?” MacBain asked. “Until you figure out the answer to that question, you willna be able to find the answers to any other.

Ayden scratched his head. He’d never thought about them as separate people before. He set out to find Catriona and he had, or so he believed. She returned to the past and they were prepared to pick up where they’d left off. But MacBain was right, there was a difference. They shared similarities, like their appearance, carriage and soul. But each lass had a unique set of qualities of their own.

“What say you?” Duncan Murray asked. Time is of the essence.

“I won’t know until I try,” Ayden said.

“Then best you get started.” MacBain patted him on the back. “But first, follow me. There is appropriate clothing for this time waiting for you at the hunt camp, along with some very specific instructions.”

“Instructions?”

“While here, you must win her heart and not use the past to do so. She must get to know you in this time period, just as you must get to know her.”

“But won’t she know me?”

“She has some memories of her time in the past, but not everything. I’d suggest you use a name other than your own when first you meet,” MacBain said.

“What name should I use?”

“I am sure you will think of something,” MacBain replied and headed down the path toward the hunt camp.