Chapter Eight: Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Kane was about to expand on his invitation when Effie knocked on the door and announced that lunch was ready. Giving Jamie one last lingering look, he helped her make their way to the kitchens where Catrina was stirring a large pot over the hearth.

"The MacDonald sisters send their condolences," Catrina said as she served them both bowls of the steaming soup. "Mary made this herself and wanted you to know she's thinking of you."

"I don't think I've met Mary," Jamie responded. She sat across from him and gave him a look that seemed to say, This conversation isn't over.

"Deidra's sister," Catrina supplied. "Both the women run the tavern. They inherited it from their parents after they died about ten years ago."

"Their family has lived here for centuries," Kane added, watching Jamie as he waited for the soup to cool down.

"Hmm. Maybe I should talk to them then."

Jamie's eyes met his challengingly, and he knew what she was threatening. He needed to give her more information or she would undoubtedly start looking for it herself. Even with her ankle, she was tenacious enough to seek out help. He knew that Catrina and Effie could be easily manipulated, as could any of the other townsfolk. Hell, if he wasn't careful he would end up giving her whatever she wanted.

"Aye," Catrina agreed. "Deidra herself is a bit of an amateur historian actually. She knows everything about the town and its history."

Jamie's gaze gleamed but stayed on his. "Oh, I should definitely talk to her then."

Kane reminded himself to go speak to Deidra when he had the chance.

As the soup cooled, the two of them began to eat in earnest. It was hearty, a chicken-based soup full of vegetables and herbs. But something tasted… different. He was used to Deidra and Mary's cooking, familiar with their style and choice of flavors. They cooked the way their parents had taught them and their parents before them. This did not taste like them.

"How's your soup, lass?" he asked Jamie.

She ate voraciously, scooping up more with her bread after a large spoonful. "Very good." She seemed to be eating more and more, gobbling it up as if she was ravenous.

"Could I have some more, Catrina?" She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and held up her bowl while her leg jiggled under the table.

"Don't worry, miss, you won't starve." Catrina chuckled as she slopped out more and handed it to Jamie.

By the time she had finished the second bowl and asked for thirds, Kane was starting to get suspicious.

"This is just the best soup I've ever tasted," Jamie practically moaned. She showed no sign of slowing down and her eyes had gone glassy. Her face was flushed and Kane could see the beginning of sweat accumulating on her brow.

When she asked for a fourth helping, Kane intervened.

"Lass, let me have a look at you."

"I'm fine, Murdock. I'm just hungry."

He gave Catrina a warning look when she went to get another bowl, and he squatted down in front of Jamie so he could get a better look.

She looked drunk. Three sheets to the wind drunk. Her eyes were unfocused and bloodshot, her pupils dilated so much he could no longer see the irises. She swayed unsteadily, leaning one of her arms on the chair even though it seemed to have the strength of a noodle. The sweat had begun to pour down her temples and her lips had become cracked. Her eyelids drooped and her speech came out slurred when she tried to swat him away.

"I'm sfine, Murdosh…" Her swat was as weak as a kitten's.

He barely had a second to catch her before she passed out.

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Jamie had been asleep for two days. At first, Kane had also felt a little woozy but his body had somehow fought off whatever ailed the lass. He had immediately gone out to find Deidra and demand answers, but she had had no idea about the soup. She claimed that she had never made it and that she had not spoken to Mary since the day before. While Deidra set up a search party for her sister, Kane worked furiously to try and find out what had happened to Jamie.

The good news was that she was conscious. He could see her breathing despite the fact that she slept so peacefully she appeared like a corpse. He could also feel the fever that had spiked and finally peaked after the first night. She was hot to the touch, slick with sweat. He and Effie worked tirelessly to keep her comfortable, taking turns wiping down her face and neck. Kane would hold her while Effie stripped the bed and replaced the soaked sheets. He tried not to fret at how limp she was in his arms and he refused to leave her side during the entire ordeal.

Catrina had taken to trying to figure out what was in the soup. She agreed that something tasted off but she could not find anything outright poisonous or sleep-inducing. She had been the one to finally suggest what Kane had feared.

"I think this is the work of Sorcha, laird."

Aye, he believed the same though he wanted it to be anything else. He knew the old witch had come back years ago. He had passed by her cabin a few times during the full moon, the beast inside him eager to root her out and kill her. But he couldn't risk her retaliation. She was unbelievably powerful, older than the Church, and he worried what horrors she could inflict on Gealach Lán further. They had all already suffered so much because of him.

"Why would she wish the lass harm, though?" Catrina asked as the two of them sat and held vigil by Jamie's bedside.

Because Jamie could break the curse. The more that Kane considered the possibility, the more he grew attached to it.

Catrina tsked. "The poor thing. She's encountered nothing but bad luck since she arrived."

Aye, because of him.

As if she knew what he was thinking, Catrina turned to him with a sympathetic gaze. "You mustn't blame yourself, laird."

"You said so yourself, Catrina. Jamie has encountered nothing but bad luck since she arrived. Just like everyone else in Gealach Lán."

"Those that remain here do so of their own accord. Plenty of folks have left over the years. You've never once punished anyone for leaving and making a life of their own away from these lands. So why on earth would any of their ills be your fault?"

Catrina had come from a long line of those who had chosen to stay. Her ancestors had been the original servants of Murdock Castle.

"God knows why anyone would stay."

Catrina huffed. "Maybe because they love and respect you. Because they love this land and its legacy. Because it's their home no matter what evil has befallen it."

True, he thought. Gealach Lán was a beautiful place. His childhood and adult memories before the curse had been fond and his community had been proud of their clan's heritage. He had not seen much of the outside world but he knew that Gealach Lán was exceptional.

"You can't imagine why those who stayed did, but did you ever think to thank us instead of question us?"

The question felt like a jab to the heart. Kane shifted in his seat.

"You falsely take on the blame of others' actions when you're plenty guilty all on your own, laird."

It had been several years since Catrina had spoken so boldly to him. She normally respected his rank.

"You done?" he whispered.

She nodded, unoffended. He had allowed her enough.

He had allowed it because he knew she cared just as all of the other residents of Gealach Lán did. Undeservedly, they loved and respected him.

"When are you going to get some sleep, laird? Do you plan to stay up all night again?"

"Yes." His look was as harsh as his tone.

He could tell that Catrina wanted to argue but his fierce gaze brokered no debate. Instead, she nodded and took her leave.

Aye, he was tired. He had not slept for fear that Jamie would wake or need him in some way. He wanted to be there when she woke up.

The guilt had been gnawing at him ever since she had passed out, just as Catrina had suspected. She was in this predicament because of him. Yes, she had gone looking for Gealach Lán, but she never could have known what to expect. How could she have foreseen the car issues or the storms? How could she have known that she had come across a place stuck in time? Kane had done everything he could think of to help her, to assauge the self-loathing that still afflicted him, but even his attempts to be hospitable had led to disaster. She had stormed off and broken her ankle because of him. She had invoked the witch's wrath because of him. She lied in this bed because of him.

His gaze drifted to the window and the waning moon that hung sullenly in the cloudy night sky. Catrina was wrong. Everyone he encountered was cursed because of him.

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A large, ornate door stood in front of Jamie. She caressed the indentations of the ancient and foreign writings that ran across the wood in all different directions. Then she gasped when the indentations began to glow. An eerie, blue glow that began to pulse through the edges of the entire door. It gave a large creak as it opened of its own accord, the sound like the moving of a boulder across the ground. Slowly, it opened to her and she stood staring into a deep, thick forest. The bluish glow had encapsulated everything in front of her: the trees, the bushes, the forest floor. Without a second's thought, she crossed over the doorframe and felt her left foot touch the bare earth.

The pounding of a drum. Just once, but enough to shake her and make her try to reach back for the door. But it closed suddenly on her, locking her out and abandoning her to this place she had never been. Then the howl of a wolf. Long, mournful, but bloodthirsty. It had scented her and she began to run with no idea as to where she was going.

She could hear the trees crashing behind her as she ran as fast as her feet could take her. Tears of desperation escaped her as the sounds came closer. It was so close that she could hear it panting. The forest was endless. Everywhere she looked there was nothing but the bluish glow of the suffocating trees. They threatened to swallow her before the beast did.

But it was no use. The trees would not have her. The beast was upon her, swiping out a giant paw with a mighty claw that knocked her to the ground with a helpless cry. She screamed as she saw the monster approach her, kneeling down for its hunt. It opened its mouth to reveal a maw of sharp teeth dripping with the saliva that would make her easier to devour, and the icy blue of its eyes sharpened in focus. Screaming one last time, she tried to raise her arms as it pounced on her and its mouth came down…

Jamie was kicking, screaming, lashing out, fighting viciously against the beast that had been about to eat her. Her limbs were unglued, thrashing about in some attempt to escape and she could hear herself screaming like a siren. Hot, thick fear covered her like a vise and she could feel her heart bursting in her chest. But as she fought against the thing, her senses started to reveal that she wasn't in the mysterious blue forest. Her feet touched bedsheets, her head was against a pillow, and her body was not pinned on the ground but against a mattress. Most importantly, a beast did not have her in its death grip. Strong but safe hands held her down as a calm and deep voice shushed her, gentling her. Suddenly exhausted, she went limp and felt herself wrapped into a muscular, warm hold.

"It's alright, lass. It's alright," she heard against her ear as her hair was petted. "You're safe now. You're safe."

She was still panting, still feeling the gallop of her heart, but she latched onto the strength that was holding her up, protecting her. Sighing with relief, she hugged the person back, relaxing into their touch as their hands simultaneously caressed her back and her head.

The heartbeat against her own thundered at an escalating rhythm and she inhaled the scent of evergreen and whiskey. She closed her eyes and stroked the back of the man who held her. She knew now that it was indeed a man, a big, strong man whose lilting voice coaxed her into surrender. Whose muscular back she sunk her fingers into. Whose sudden groan reverberated around her. Jamie moaned in relief.

Maybe I'm still dreaming, she thought as she pulled back and looked into the hooded, heated eyes of Kane Murdock. The beast of her nightmares had turned into the man of her dreams. She could feel his chest start to rise quickly against hers as his lips parted and his gaze went to her mouth.

Yes, I must be. She had to be because she was licking her lips in anticipation of his kiss, looking up at him as if he was the thing that would devour her. The thing that would consume her.

"Jamie," he breathed, and she gave a sigh when his thumb caressed her lower lip. Yes, this was a dream. A very good one.

It got better when he put his mouth on hers.