Adam, page 2
Mairi appeared in the doorway, staring into the darkness. “Pol? Where are ye, lass?”
I climbed to my feet, dusting the snow from my breeches and coat. “Best get back to the house, Pol. We dinnae want to keep our Mairi waiting.”
I strode to the house, Pol galloping beside me. Mairi stared at me, eyes wide, her hand to her throat.
“Adam Gordon? Is that ye?”
My grin spread wider than my face, I was that glad to see my pretty wife. I swept her into an embrace, my arms straining around her as I hugged her close. She’d always been such a tiny thing—a wee lass against my height—but the swell of the bairn almost doubled her size. I tucked my face against her neck and breathed in the smell of her, content to just hold her as I fought back unmanly tears. After a moment I released her.
I grinned. “Aye, and who else does yer mangy dog welcome home at night?”
She cradled the curve of my cheek in her palm. “Dinnae say such things, Adam. Ye know ye alone have my heart. Och, I have missed ye so.”
Her hand came to rest on her bulging stomach, and a shy smile crossed her face. “Ye’d scarce know me, I’ve gotten that big since ye’ve been gone.”
A blast of cold wind nipped at my backside and I shooed her in the door. “Get inside, wife. I’ll not have ye taking a chill. I’ll ask ye to take better care of yerself and the bairn than that.”
Memory of the missive I had received skittered through me. It willnae come to pass. Soni gave me my heart’s desire and I willnae allow harm to befall Mairi or the bairn.
We went inside and closed the door, leaving the cold night air behind. The fire in the hearth was banked for the night, but warmth still lingered in the glowing embers. Mairi waddled to a chair by the table and collapsed onto its seat. She reached for my hand, twining her fingers through mine as she pulled me close.
“Is it really ye, Adam? I’m nae dreaming? I do often—dream of ye, that is.”
I knelt beside her and she smoothed her hand over my hair. “`Tis really me, my love. Ye’re not dreaming.” And to prove it, I kissed her long and tenderly.
She trembled and wrapped her arms about my neck. She pressed her face against my chest and I felt her tears through my shirt. I lifted her in my arms and took her seat, cradling her in my lap. We sat like this for a long while, and I even crooned snippets of a tune in the back of my throat as I rocked her gently. Before I’d left home, we were constantly touching, as though `twas difficult to exist beyond each other’s reach. To have her in my arms again was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
CHAPTER 3
She nestled against me. “Why are ye here? Is the war over so soon? I hadnae heard.”
“Nae. The war isnae over. There’s still a battle to be fought.” Only one, and it wouldnae end well.
She lifted her head from my shoulder and peered at me. “Are ye on leave?”
There was no way to tell her the truth of how I knew the danger of the unmended hole in the barn, or how I came to be here, so I shrugged. “I’ve been needing to fix that hole in the barn, ye know. Now seemed like a good time.”
She tapped my shoulder playfully. “Ye dinnae fix the barn in the year we were married. And now ye think to stop an entire war to board it up?”
I shifted her in my lap, aware of the difference in her. Her lissome body now heavy with child, the solidity of the bairn she nurtured beneath her heart. And I loved every bit of it. Guilt flashed through me to see her so happy, knowing I would soon be gone forever, but I would cherish this day and give her and the bairn a chance at life with no regrets.
I chucked her beneath her chin. “War or no, I’ll take care of my Mairi.”
She tucked her head beneath my chin. “I’m so glad to see ye, Adam. I’m so proud of the man ye are, so honorable and willing to do yer part for Scotland. But it hasnae been easy wondering about ye, selfishly wishing ye werenae one of those who’d answered Glenbucket’s call.”
To be honest, I’d had little choice. Old John Gordon had ridden into Strathbogie, pressing every available man to his regiment. At the Culloden Visitors’ Centre, centuries later, I’d learned he and Lords Lovat and Lochiel, and the MacDonnell chieftains, along with a few others, had escaped the carnage at Culloden and gathered at the head of Loch Arkaig, hoping to re-launch the ’45. But the Scots army never rallied, and John Gordon died in Boulogne, France, five years later. Few of the soldiers in Glenbucket’s Regiment died that day at Culloden, but I had been one of the unlucky ones.
Mairi and I held each other close as the glow from the fire dwindled and a chill crept into the house. I nibbled her ear and she giggled, providing all the warmth I needed to ignore the waning block of peat. We murmured words of endearment to each other, reminding me poignantly of the night before I left with Glenbucket’s Regiment. That hadnae turned out so well, but tomorrow I would make amends.
With a brief kiss to the top of my nose, Mairi finally slid to her feet. “Ye must be hungry. I’ve never known ye not to be, and ye’re looking a bit gaunt, Mr. Gordon.”
One hand braced on her lower back, she crossed the room to our small larder.
I reached for her in protest. “Mairi, I’m fine. Truly, I am. Dinnae fash about me.” Indeed, I’d not eaten a bite in nearly 300 years, but why bring that up? My job was to keep her safe, not alarm her. Perhaps it was best she think me on leave from my unit, allow her to believe—at least for now—I was really coming home one day. But how to convince my wife I dinnae need to be fed?
She rummaged through the shelves. “There’s bannocks in this tin, and a bit of dried mutton. And William drew water for me just this evening.”
My brother’s lad, William, was old enough to do small chores for her, but she’d clearly not thought to hand the lad hammer and nails and repair the barn. And to be fair, I hadnae considered it, either.
Mairi ignored my protest and bustled about the room as well as she could, presenting me a small platter of food alongside a mug of cold water. I used to drink ale, but Mairi dinnae have a taste for it in the past few months of her pregnancy, and apparently dinnae keep it around just on the off chance I’d show up on her doorstep. But it dinnae matter now.
I stared at the platter, considering the food before me. If I ate it, would it go down? How real was I? If Pol’s greeting was anything to judge by, I was fairly solid. But I dinnae want to risk alarming my poor wife over such a small a thing as swallowing food. She yawned. I jumped at the distraction.
“Mo chridhe, go get some rest. I can only stay a day to set things to right. The sun will be up soon, and I must get busy. I’ll be fine here with Pol.”
Her face paled. “Only a day?”
I rose to my feet and hugged her as she swayed, disappointment and exhaustion etched on her pretty face. I tried to remember Soni’s words. “Mayhap two. But I cannae be sure. Ye look tired, Mairi, a ghràidh. Please go to bed.”
“Will ye not come with me? I want to lay my head on yer shoulder, listen to yer heart beat.”
I stiffened. I hadnae had a heartbeat in a verra long time. But this night I could feel it sending blood pounding through my veins. Veins that had once bled dry from a mortar shell after it severed a vital artery.
“Let me see to this food and I’ll be there.”
She smiled contentedly as I led her to our bed in the only other room in the house and tucked her in. The hand-woven wool blankets she’d brought to our home when we wed were soft and warm, and I pulled three atop her then tucked them in.
I kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my sweet Mairi.”
“I’ll wait up for ye.”
But I knew she wouldn’t. Already her eyelids were heavy, and she stifled another yawn. I patted her shoulder and tiptoed from the room, coming to an abrupt halt when I saw Soni seated at the table, her black robe pooled around her.
CHAPTER 4
I glanced at Pol who lay curled at the door, unconcerned about the stranger in our midst. Soni followed my gaze.
“Dinnae worry. She willnae notice me.” She looked past me into the darkened bedroom. “Nor will yer wife, should she wake.”
I didn’t understand but accepted this along with everything else that had happened to me in the past few hours. I pulled out the other chair and sat. Soni pointed to the platter.
“Ye may as well feed it to the dog. No aspersions on yer wife’s cooking, mind, but ye’re a ghost and cannae eat as the rest of us.”
I sent her a startled look and she laughed softly. “I got ye here, as ye wished. The rest is details which I cannae control.”
With a sorrowful glance at the bannocks—Mairi was a wonderful cook—I dismissed them from my mind.
Soni looked about her. “`Tis a lovely cottage. And yer wife is quite beautiful. When are ye going to tell her ye’re a ghost?”
I stared at her then leaned back in my chair, resting my hands on my breeches, feeling defeated. “I cannae.”
“How will ye get everything done tomorrow if ye dinnae tell her?”
“What do ye mean?”
Soni held up a hand, ticking her points off on her fingers as she spoke. “She’ll want to fix ye a hearty breakfast, then send word to yer brother’s family, then invite them to sup with ye. Mayhap even make a ceilidh of it.” Her eyebrows rose. “Ye dinnae want that to happen.”
The thought of all those people around me left a hard knot in my stomach. On the one hand, I wanted this day alone with my wife, and it was sorrowful enough to leave her again, knowing I’d never return.
On the other hand, I shuddered to think of all I knew from the Visitor’s Centre at Culloden about the aftermath of the war. How could I face my family and not plead with them to travel to America immediately, flee the terrible atrocities of the Butcher’s reprisals against so many innocents?
I didn’t know how the people here fared, for the Gordon clan was torn in its loyalties. The third Duke of Gordon sided with the English, but his brother, Lord Lewis Gordon, had raised two battalions and fought on the Jacobite side at Culloden. It would be well-known many men in Strathbogie served the Jacobite cause. How many could I save? Who would listen? Such a task was enormous, and not the one Soni had sent me to accomplish.
I thought of my wife. “She’s a staunch Catholic.”
A faint grin lighted Soni’s eyes. “Then mayhap she believes in spirits.”
I frowned. “Dinnae take this lightly. I could shock her deeply. And she doesnae need that. Ye saw how far she is with child. I came to prevent the bairn from coming early, not frighten her into labor.”
“Adam. Ye must think of a way to tell her. Otherwise, she willnae understand why ye dinnae want friends and family—or her fantastic cooking.” She cocked her head to one side. “Ye dinnae want her to think poorly of ye.”
“Does this happen to all ghosts? Not being able to eat, I mean.”
A green aura surrounded her, and her figure began to fade. “Nae, Adam. It doesnae.”
I was alone at the table. I stared at the platter full of my wife’s good cooking.
“Do ye want a bite, Pol?”
The dog scrambled to her feet and daintily took the bannock I offered. She carried it back to her rug at the door and laid it between her forefeet. Unused to largess directly from the table, she nosed it about, biting it gingerly then dropping it back to the floor.
“Dinnae waste it.” Remembering the nearly empty pantry, I carefully replaced the rest of the food.
By the time I looked back at Pol, her bannock was gone.
CHAPTER 5
I woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. Damn! I’d meant to be up before Mairi, bring her breakfast in bed and claim I’d eaten earlier. But I’d not had such a contented sleep since my ‘awakening’ years ago. ’Twas refreshing, if unlooked for. Much better than sporadic bouts of ‘rest’ on the moor with the lingering odors of battle clogging my nose. I’d fallen not long before the Government Dragoons facing us had given up exchanging fire across a stretch of ponds and moor, and someone had laid me gently aside. Many nights I’d stared at the stars through ghostly eyes, dreaming, wondering, longing.
Imagining I would lay awake all night with Mairi in my arms, I’d gone to bed willingly after Soni left, but it hadnae taken long for my eyes to close as peacefulness invaded my very being.
And now she was wasting perfectly good food on her ghost of a husband. Much as I hated it, Soni was right. We needed to have a talk. I’d soon be gone, and with my death, there’d be no money forthcoming to restock the larder. I imagined Mairi tending the garden with a newborn straining her energy, and realized I needed to stop her efforts of depleting the larder on my behalf. I quickly rose and pulled on my breeches, tucking my shirttail in as I hurried into the other room.
Morning light glinted off the lingering snow outside and flashed with clear winter brilliance through our one paned window. Mairi greeted me so brightly I could swear the sun shone from her face. She glowed with happiness, and I ached to think what it would be like to remain with her and never let her lose that beautiful smile. My love for her resonated as a deep ache inside, an ache that stretched across the centuries, one I would never willingly release.
But first things, first. I crossed the room and captured her in a fierce hug. She squealed with delight and twisted in my arms until she could put hers around my waist. It was odd to feel her swollen belly between us. Something thumped against my abdomen and I jumped. Mairi laughed. She grabbed my hand and held it to her belly.
Wonderment bloomed through me. I’d felt the bairn move before, but this was so much more! Do it again, I urged, and the bairn gave another solid kick.
“I believe he’s wanting out.” I preened, proud to think I had a part in the bairn’s making, pushing aside the reality that I’d never see him. But Mairi would. That had to be enough.
Mairi laughed. “Or she.”
We’d had this discussion before.
I hugged her again. “Lad or lass, it doesnae matter to me.” I choked back a lump in my throat. “I just want ye both safe.”
“Ye’ve mentioned it often enough, `twill likely be a lad.”
“Ye cannae make it so just by saying it.” But I was wrong. I’d wanted to return to help Mairi. I’d said it, demanded it, fashed over it again and again—for the past 270 years to be exact. And it had finally happened. I was here, and I was about to change Mairi’s and the bairn’s destiny.
Mairi waved her spoon at me. “Go let Pol in from her run. Breakfast is almost ready.”
I had a moment to gather my thoughts. Touching Mairi’s belly, feeling the bairn move inside, was as close as I would ever get to holding my child, and it had to be enough to know he—or she—was alive and kicking. I must get busy in order to keep him that way.
I opened the door and the crisp morning air touched my face, raising goosebumps along my skin. Sunshine glinted off the slowly melting snow, decorating the faceted surface with tiny rainbows of color. Dark purple shadows still hid beneath the trees, but they were fading, giving up their space to the new day. I dinnae know if I’d ever felt more alive. Every smell exploded in the back of my nose, creating a new taste on my tongue. Every sight formed a memory I would never forget—or would I?
“Pol!”
Her furry black and white form dashed across the glen and darted past me into the house. She skidded to a halt at Mairi’s feet.
Mairi turned, a plate of fresh bannocks in her hands, and spied the dog’s eager stare. “Get by, dog. Ye know ye dinnae get food from my platters.”
I sent Pol an apologetic look and she responded with one of expectancy. ‘Later’ I mouthed at her. She placed a paw over one eye and looked away.
Mairi added the plate of bannocks to the table. “Och, Adam, I’m so glad ye’re here. Wee William’ll be here later this morning and I can send word back with him.”
Mairi filled the platter before me, plump oatcakes nestled beside a few rounds of bacon from the pig I’d killed months earlier. “Here ye go, mo chridhe. Ye dinnae look as though the army knows how to feed its soldiers.”
She placed a kiss on my ear as I reluctantly sat, then bustled about the room, one hand absently stroking her big belly.
Wait—send word with William about what?
“Mairi, what’re ye on about? What’s this about William, and why do ye not sit with me?”
“Och, I’d a bite earlier. `Tis difficult to eat much at a time, the bairn takes up that much room.” She waved airily and averted her gaze, a sure sign she dinnae want to continue the conversation, then shuffled into the bedroom.
I wondered how much ‘a bite’ was, fairly certain it wasnae enough to feed her and the bairn. She needed the food on my platter much more than I did.
“Mairi, come eat this right now.” I made my voice as stern as possible as guilt poured over me at the short rations she lived on at the verra end of winter.
Her voice came from the other room. “I’ll eat a bit more later.” She plumped the bed pillows with a resounding thump. “I’ll have William tell his ma ye’re home. Even if `tis only for a day or so, they’ll be glad to see ye.” She appeared in the doorway, hands busily folding a blanket. “Do ye know if Allen is home on leave as well?”
I startled at the mention of my brother, instantly transported back to the day of battle. A stray shard of an exploding mortar nicked an artery in my neck, ending my life quickly, and I never saw my brother, a veteran of Lord Lewis Gordon’s regiment, again. I’d no idea what had become of him—his regiment was on the opposite end of the battlefield from Glenbucket’s—but I knew he wasnae one of the 79, nor was he currently home on leave.
“Nae, Mairi. I dinnae think Allen is home. And I dinnae wish to invite the family here. I must be away by nightfall and I dinnae wish to share my time with ye.”
I had no idea if I would be granted extra time or not, but I felt safer telling Mairi `twas just the one day.
