The Scotsman Who Swept Me Away

by Hannah Howell

It was almost as bad as what Matthew sometimes suffered from, having been in the middle of a war. He had never been near the major battles, yet he suffered from memories, too. Robbie hoped the bloodletting of war would work to cure this nation of throwing its young men into another conflict, but, sadly, he doubted it.

  Once his body was clean, he cleaned his teeth, rinsed out his shirt, and headed back to the room. It pleased him to see that James had returned. Grabbing a clean shirt out of his bag, he put it on and listened to James and Geordie talk about what they could look at in Boston.

  They started out by going to the wharf where the tea was thrown into the harbor. It was busy there and hard to envision what it had been like all those years ago, but Robbie had a good imagination. By the time they wandered away in search of another site, he felt satisfied.

  As they walked, James and Geordie remarked on the old houses they passed. To Robbie and Geordie they looked a lot different than the ones at home. Most everything he had seen west of this place was new, and it would be a while before they grew any character and gained any history. In the South, where there had been age and history, a lot had been destroyed by the war. Robbie wondered how long it would take for those scars on the land to fade.

  By the time they got back to the room, his leg was beginning to twinge with weariness. He shed his trousers and rubbed Emily’s cream on his leg, massaging it in as she insisted he do. It took a while, but he finally felt the ache ease and he idly wondered which was more effective, the cream or the massage. It was a question he asked himself more and more.

  “Ye just going to lie there pantless?” asked Geordie.

  “Aye. Cream needs to dry or soak in,” replied Robbie. “Was just pondering which does the best work, the cream or the massage.”

  “Might be the massaging. The doctor who rode with us often spent time massaging wounds similar to yours, and he did not have any fancy cream. From what little I saw of the effects, it appeared to work. Do you massage your hand?” James asked.

  “When I put some cream on. Why?”

  “Well, if it doesn’t hurt much, maybe you should do more of it, cream or not.”

  “There’s a thought. Think it would work?”

  “Might. Worth a try. Things stiffen up and become hard to work with if you don’t keep them limber. Know that from the injuries round my father’s farm.”

  “True. I will do that.”

  Robbie sat up to eat the sandwich James handed him. Once he had finished, he pulled up the sheet and closed his eyes. He wanted to be well rested when they finally headed out on the next leg of their journey.

  Geordie looked at Robbie and realized he was already asleep. Setting down the book he was reading, he watched his brother closely, then turned to James, who was also reading. Glancing at the title he nearly groaned. The man was reading about bridges.

  “Do ye think Robbie is all right?”

  James looked over at Robbie and then looked at Geordie. “The walk around this morning probably tired him right out.”

  “I guessed that. Just wondering if he and I misjudged his ability to take this trip.”

  “No. I don’t think it is a thing you can judge anyway. Don’t think he ever pushed himself, so you have nothing to judge by. He’s tired and he’s resting. Best thing to do and he apparently has the good sense to do it. We’ll keep an eye on him, but I think he will let us know when he has had enough, and then you both can take the trains home.”

  “True. Then all he needs to fret about is how annoyed I am to miss seeing the ocean because of him. And he will. He is very quick to blame himself and his ‘infirmity,’ as he calls it too often.”

  James shook his head. “He is not infirm. I have seen infirm. Lots of men missing bits of themselves after the war. Robbie is, well, bruised, shall we say. He has a limp and a weak hand. What was done to him probably gives him nightmares, if only because it was a senseless brutality, but those will slowly fade. We’ll just keep a close watch on him. If he can make it through this, maybe it will give him a better view of himself.”

  “That is what I am hoping.” Geordie stood up and stretched. “I want a drink. Have no idea why, but it just seems as if this day should end with a drink. Or two.”

  “Good idea,” said James as he also stood up. “Should we wake him?”

  He went to his bag and found a pencil and paper. “Nay. I will leave him a note so he doesnae wonder where we went. Robbie isnae much of a tippler. Likes his cider but not much else. And if he is sleeping while we talk, he obviously needs a rest.”

  Setting the note on the table, Geordie grabbed his coat and left with James. He hoped the man was right, that Robbie would gain some confidence in himself if he finished this journey. It would be good if his brother gained some benefit from it all.

  Chapter Six

  Mehitabel answered the pounding at the door, not surprised to see her neighbor and several of his men standing there. Her little dog was with her, so she knew it was not a complaint about him getting through the fence and harassing the cows again. Odin sat down by her feet looking cute and innocent, which he was this time. Mehitabel suspected Charles Bennet did not believe it any more than she usually did. But this time Odin really had been with her all day.

  “Your damn goats have been at my fence again,” Bennet snapped, and held his rifle so that it was more visible.

  “I sincerely doubt that. They are over at my aunt Mary’s. She needed them for some yard clearing.”

  “What good can they do?”

  “Quite a lot, actually. They crop the grass down neatly and they eat all those things you don’t want growing in your yard, like that vine that gives you itchy spots.”

  “Poison ivy?”

  “That is the one. You have it all over your annoying fencing. It is one of the reasons I had to lend my auntie the goats. As the weather warmed she noticed it was spreading all over her grape arbor. They kept going over to the fence to try to get to the treat winding all over it.” She tensed when he aimed his gun at her. “Now, Bennet, that will only cause you more trouble.”

  “It might be worth it. I would finally get this land, and I suspect your family would like the money.”

  “Then you would suspect wrong,” she said as she pulled her rifle from where it was hidden by her skirts and aimed it at him. “My family does not want your money. They don’t want money instead of the land. They might not be your kind of rich, but they have enough to get them through some hard times. They want the land. They have always wanted the land. That is why it is so protected in the will and in any other way they were allowed to protect it.”

  “So you’re hanging on to it. Plan to give it to the Injuns. Yeh, I heard about that. Fine. We’ll just take it from them.”

  “Not easily. They are Amplefords, and this is listed as Ampleford land.” She watched the red flush of anger come and go in his face. “Aunty is an Ampleford, too. Pa made sure of it.”

  “Stupid cow. I need this land.”

  “Why? Appears your cattle have plenty.”

  He was breathing hard, which worried her a little, but then he started bellowing at her, calling her foul names and insulting her in some crudely creative ways. Mehitabel was sorely tempted to shoot him, but all his men were also armed and appeared ready to shoot her. She really did not want to die in a shoot-out at her own front door.

  It puzzled her that he was so out of control. For a long time he had been unreasonably angry with her refusal to sell to him, but never this crazed with anger. Then he leaned a little closer to hiss a few insults and she caught the smell of whiskey on his breath. He was drunk, and she worried that could be enough to turn what was an old, and too frequent, angry confrontation into a deadly one. Drunken, angry men were dangerous creatures.

  As she wondered if there was a way to calm things down, to say something that might placate him, she saw movement behind him. Looking over his shoulder while trying to keep a close eye on him, she saw three men walking toward her house. She
prayed they were not more of his men, most of whom were just local boys. The men approaching did not look like local boys.

  * * *

  Geordie took a deep breath and savored the ocean scent that was so special, that salty crispness. A train had brought them up to the northern coast. Now they rode calmly along the beach. He noticed Robbie was almost as enthralled as he was. It was sunny and warm and colorful, with the rays of the slowly setting sun brightening up the water. Then he felt a slight bite to the wind coming off the water and frowned.

  “I am thinking the weather is going to turn on us,” Robbie said as he looked up at the sky and rubbed his leg. “My bones think so, too. Especially the broken ones.”

  “Damn,” grumbled James. “I was hoping a storm would hold off for a while.”

  “Ye kenned one was coming?” asked Geordie.

  “Could smell it in the air, which occasionally has a telling bite to it. We should look around for a place to sleep. By dark I think it will be raining. At least, I hope it will be rain.”

  “Bit warm for it to be much else and too late in the year.” Even as he spoke, Geordie felt another cold bite in the wind and he cursed.

  James laughed. “You can never be sure of that in this part of the country.”

  “We didnae stay in this part of the country all that long, but I did notice that.”

  “Da called it temperamental,” said Robbie. “Bloody temperamental, just like home.” He winced and shifted a bit in the saddle. “Mither liked it.”

  Geordie nodded. “I remember. She especially liked the rocky hills that rise up from the beach in so many places.”

  “So do I.” James nodded toward one. “We can tuck in against some of the rocks to shelter from the rain coming.”

  “True enough,” Geordie said as he moved closer to the rocks and guided his horse to walk along the base until he noticed something that looked like a staircase. “Someone wanted an easier way down.”

  James looked down the beach. “The rocky hills get smaller soon.”

  They kept walking until Geordie spotted another set of steps. This hill was low enough to see the grass growing at the top. He dismounted and sat on one of the steps and looked out at the ocean. The wind had definitely gathered some strength, and that bite of coolness still clung to the breeze, so he suspected the rain was rapidly approaching.

  A strange moment of silence allowed voices to be heard. Geordie frowned. He heard an angry male voice. He listened for a while but could not hear any precise words, so he turned, secured his horse, and slowly climbed the steps. At the top he saw a long, low house with one section two stories high. Seven men faced a small woman standing in an open door. He saw the weapons they held and crouched down.

  A moment later James came up and took a place by his side. “Trouble?”

  “Sounds like it. Hell, looks like it, too,” answered Geordie.

  “Seven armed men, big fellows against one short female, also armed,” said Robbie as he squirmed into place on the other side of Geordie. “Aye, I would call that trouble.”

  Geordie stared at a sign nailed to a post at the top of the steps. A road ran along the top of hills and he would wager the sign was clear to anyone riding by.

  He sidled up to the verge and turned to see the sign more clearly. Rooms to let. Clams. Anadama bread. Goats for rent. Nurse. The sign gave them a good excuse to walk up to the house, if only to inquire what anadama bread was. Geordie got slowly to his feet and stepped off the stairs onto the grass.

  “Planning to charge to her rescue?” James snapped.

  Geordie ignored the voice in his head that told him to stay back, even to hide. He straightened up, grabbed his gun out of its holster, and started walking toward the house. Robbie and James hissed at him to get down. James cursed him for thinking he was some white knight who had to ride to a woman’s rescue.

  He had barely gone a few steps when Robbie and James stood up to follow him. The men at the house yelled at the woman when she leveled her rifle at them. He aimed his gun at her again. Geordie moved a little faster and got close enough to poke his rifle into the big man’s back. When he heard the sound of two more rifles being readied to fire, he knew he was now flanked by Robbie and James.

  The big man tensed as did the men with him. They all lowered their weapons, but the woman only eased her stance a little, still firmly aiming her rifle at the man. Geordie knew she saw him, but the tense silence continued and he began to feel uneasy.

  When she glanced his way, Geordie was stunned, for the look from her wide golden eyes hit him like a hard punch to the belly. It was then that he took a good look at the woman. She was short, as Robbie had said, but she was also small in other ways. Despite her size, she stood firm, and her hands on the rifle may have been delicate but they held it firm and steady. Her gown was plain, but it fit well over some very tempting curves.

  “Did you hire some new hands, Belle?” demanded the man.

  “I think a better question would be why would I hire some hands.”

  “For the same reason everyone does, to do some work for you.”

  Geordie wondered if the man knew how his condescending tone put him in danger. He saw the woman’s eyes narrow, and her grip tightened on the rifle. It was clear this confrontation between the two was not a new one, and he watched her struggle to fight down her anger.

  “Working at what? Herding my four goats? Caring for well-caged chickens? Perhaps tend to my two horses and one donkey. Or my two milk cows. I suppose I could have hired some of them to dig my clams. Or, just maybe, I hired them to get the trash off my lawn.” She spoke harshly and glared at him.

  Bennet growled a little and stepped closer. The woman just smiled. “If I were you, Bennet, I would toddle home and leave me to talk to these men. Or, I can step aside and you can have a chat with Thor. Did you not hear him growling from behind me? I am the only thing holding him inside. Dogs don’t forget the person who shot them. Not sure how much longer he will tolerate that.”

  “Ye shot her dog?” Robbie burst out. “Bastard.”

  “Aye, disgusting behavior,” Geordie agreed. Now aware of the deep growl coming from behind her, he realized it was not the cute little dog.

  “He leaps for my throat again and I will not miss,” Bennet snapped, then marched off toward the back of the house.

  Geordie noticed four of his men hurried after Bennet, but two gave the woman a grin and a wink and meandered after the man. He thought back over the scene and realized those two men had stood behind the others and he had not noticed their guns aimed at the woman.

  “He does not realize those two fellows are relations of yours, does he?” asked James with a grin.

  She grinned back. “Bennet never did pay attention to family lines. My cousins are Murphys, but Thomas Murphy married my aunt, who is an Ampleford. I am Mehitabel Ampleford. Everyone calls me Belle. How can I help you gents? Bread, clams, or goats?”

  “Actually, miss, we have come about the bed you had to let?”

  “All three of you?”

  “If there is room. We want to shelter from the storm that is soon to hit. Maybe stay a day or two to see the ocean and all, if we can.”

  “Well, get your things and your horses, if you have them, and bring them up. If you go a short way farther up the beach you’ll find paths you can walk the horses up.”

  “All right. Ye stay here, Robbie,” Geordie said, then looked at the woman. “If that is all right with you.”

  “It is fine. Come up.” She waved to Robbie to come up on the porch. “You can sit here or come inside. Thor looks mean, but he will not hurt you,” she said as she stepped aside and a huge shaggy brown dog stepped out.

  “That looks like a fine guard dog, but what kind is he?”

  “A lot of different kinds. You are welcome to come in if you want. That rain is pretty well on the doorstep.” She stepped inside and held the door open.

  “Hope Geordie and James dinnae get soaked.” He stepped i
nside and took his boots off on the rough square of carpet there, then put them on the wooden rack set to the side. “Fine house ye have.”

  “Thank you. Great-Grandfather built it. That is why most of it is only one story high.” She flashed him a grin. “He did not like climbing up a big ladder. My great-grandmother preferred length instead of height, as well. My father added the second floor with the bedrooms. Where did you come from? I do not recognize the accent.”

  “Scotland.”

  “Did you break your leg on the journey?” She steered him toward a large, heavy wooden rocker when he started toward the settee. “My pa said this chair is better if you have an injury or pain.”

  “Nay, it didnae happen on the journey from Scotland, which was years ago. In the war some men took me and wanted me to join the Rebs. When I said nay they tried to convince me by bashing my leg and my hand. My brother Iain feels certain they were not trying to fix me when they finally patched me up, but hoped to make me useless to anyone else who might try to take me as a recruit.”

  “What were you? Ten? They should have considered you too young and moved on.”

  “Nay. I was of an age to join in the war. Didnae want to, but was certainly old enough.”

  “Only the ones with money and power should go fight. They are responsible for starting the war and they are the ones who gain from it, so they and theirs should be out there fighting.”

  “Ye have a verra cynical view of wars.”

  “I have a very cynical view of a lot of things. I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”

  Mehitabel went into her kitchen and started to put together a tray of food and drink for her guests. She thought about what else she needed to do to be ready for James, Geordie, and Robbie. It was early in the season so she doubted there would be others looking for a room now. If there was, any male could join them in the infirmary, which, with its beds lining each wall was much like a bunkhouse, and any female could pick one of the two remaining bedrooms. This was a profitable start to the season. She hoped it continued.

  Bennet’s anger troubled her. Her refusal to sell to him had always been a source of real irritation for him, but tonight his behavior was extreme. She wondered if he had some deal he could make if it included her land, too. The man had never really been happy with what he had inherited. For some reason he believed he deserved more.