what I know of your history? I’m from the future. I know, should our roles be reversed, I wouldn’t hesitate to ask.” If she’d had the ability to know and change David’s future, know of his impending death, she would’ve done all she could to stop it.
He shrugged. “’Tis probably best that I don’t know, wouldn’t ye agree?”
“But what I could tell you could possibly help with your decision. It could help your clan and save you from making a mistake. Or save your life.”
“And is this one of those mistakes?”
Abby bit her lip, not sure if she should say anything or not. “You know that I was on vacation in the area before your sister brought me back here. I know a little about what happened to the family, the clan. You may not want to hear, after all.”
His face paled, and she worried that she was crossing some mysterious line of time travel etiquette.
“What do you know?”
It was the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had in her life. Abby said a little prayer that the future would remain as is even after she opened her mouth. “If it’s the battle I’m thinking of, the one you’re about to embark on, it’s known as the last clan battle between you and the O’Cains in Scotland. The history books state it took place in 1601 and was called Coire na Creiche. Both clans suffered heavy losses and the battle was one of the bloodiest ever told, but I cannot remember anything more particular than that.”
“And does my home fall to the O’Cains?” His voice was hard, cold, and for the first time the calculating mask of a Highland warrior settled on his features.
“This castle still stands today, and there is a laird, but I’m not certain if he’s a direct descendant of yours. I know there are massive casualties on both sides, Aedan. Something you can stop now, if you don’t go ahead with this.” Abby cringed. Telling Aedan this could possibly change the future. Who knew what disasters she’d wrought already?
He stood, leaving her to stand at the desk. “War is a risk.” He paced the length of the room, his stance one of thrumming tension. “But I canna let this go. The O’Cains will pay.”
She frowned. “And if you die, they win. Why fight, Aedan? Just stay here, enjoy your life, and the wonder of your Highland home.”
“What’s to stop them from doing this again? What if it’s a woman not as strong as Jinny? What if they kill the next woman they claim and not just maim her beyond repair? Our life is not as simple as enjoying the magnificence of Scotland and nothing else. I will not let this go.”
His voice brooked no argument, and she slumped down in his chair. Abby wasn’t sure if she should be horrified or pleased by his words. And the thought that she could lose Aedan in a similar fashion to how she’d lost David was too horrific to contemplate. “No one wins in war, and Gwen seems to think Jinny wouldn’t want this.”
“Don’t ye think I don’t know that?” He paced the room, running a hand through his unbound hair. “But I cannot forget the fact that Jinny left here, hale and whole, and returned a broken woman with one eye missing.” He cursed. “What horrors did they inflict on her that she would lose her vision? It makes me sick to my stomach to imagine.”
Abby cringed, having not known her injuries were so bad. She had no family, so to worry, to care so much for a sibling was something Abby had never experienced. But seeing the pain etched on Aedan’s face she understood the love he had for Jinny and Gwen a little more. “I understand your anger, and I can see why you’d seek revenge. But what of everything you hold dear? You could lose everything. Your home and family. The wife you’re so determined to find. What’s the point of these Highland Games, if you’re only going to go off and fight a war?” He glared at her and she returned the gesture. “Don’t you think the O’Cains may be baiting you for a war? Perhaps they used your sister to spark your ire? I know you love your sisters, but I don’t think you should do it. I’m sorry, but that’s my opinion.”
“Well, ’tis good then that I didn’t ask for your opinion on the matter, isn’t it?”