by Ria Cantrell
She became intuitive and she learned to sense things from others. She learned to trust her instincts; to feel the Ancient Ones, those Guardians that walk among us as well as those who do not. Bronwyn could tell if one of the Ancients had visited or if there was one who had gone before present in spirit form. She could also sense things in the people she loved. Aye, she was gifted in so many ways.
Besides these things, Bronwyn Brandham became one of my dearest friends in the later years of my life and though I did nay know it at the time, she would grant me a vessel to receive the greatest gift of all. More on that in a thrice, for now t’is time to weave all the threads of the stories I have told.
All of the people I have ere loved or the meddlin’ I have done has come to this point of my life. If I could change things, I think I would nay alter even one. Nay, for if I did, this blessed life I know would be different as well. Aye, I wish that those who I loved were granted more time spent with me, but the loss and love has shaped me more than even I can understand. I suppose without the missin’ of those who left in untimely ways, I would nay appreciate the time we had together. I am glad for that and for the reverence and love I hold for the precious time spent with me.
So the chords are woven, and my tale, though long, is told. I will show ye’ the wonderful weft of the loom that has formed the beauty I hold so dear. I will begin with the story of Ruiri, Caitlyn and Brielle. Had Caitlyn not perished those years ago at the hand of Ruiri’s enemy, my friend Gavin’s grandson, Derek Campbell, he would nay have been free to love again when Brielle was put in his path. That love may be even greater and stronger than the love he knew when he was still but a lad.
The love a man experiences is not the love that young bucks think they feel when they first taste of it. Ruiri’s love for Brielle was something that caused healing and with that, he became a man of faith and courage. That union grew in strength and t’is their story that offers hope to those who think love can ne’er be had again after so great a loss.
Why, even I, a craven old soul such as m’self, learned that from Ruiri; even though throughout my life when I could nay open my heart to anyone else but my Ian. I dunna’ regret that choice now, but perhaps, my heart would have learned to heal sooner, had I only opened it to the possibility of love. Aye, there was love in my life; deep and fulfilling love, but none again with a mate. Gabrielle Campbell MacCollum taught us all how to forgive, for even she forgave her brother Derek for the injustice and mistreatment he had rained upon her.
That was a powerful lesson we all gained from learning. I like to think that t’was some of Brielle’s loving forgiveness that helped to neutralize Arianne’s curse upon Derek, in the long run. Whether it did or not, it was something that Derek needed and so by the simple act of Brielle giving it, Derek was absolved. So too, was Ruiri; absolved of his guilt over the death of Caitlyn and of the hatred he had held on to for so long a time. Ah, love and forgiveness; what a powerful combination, indeed! Balm for the soul, it is. Balm for the soul!
When Derek spent so many years in isolation, he had to learn to love and to put aside the things that kept him from fulfilling all he was destined to be; all he was supposed to enjoy in life. Though it took him longer than I had hoped, in the end, I believe that his time alone created the void that called to be filled. I suppose he had to be completely empty before his heart could once again be filled and so it was. Derek learned that he needed to be loved and to love. It was nay just about being able to feel, or eat and drink or even to couple with a woman; nay.
It was about love; loving a mate and havin’ that mate love him in return. His mate, Kiera Callum; the woman cast from the depths of my beloved clan, who lived in a time so far from Derek’s and mine, has become one of those angels that I have had the pleasure to know and love. T’was a gift she brought me some years ago that I can ne’er repay. Again, I will explain that further, but know this, had I not found her during one of my trips across the spans of time, to be the woman to unlock Derek from his prison of isolation, I would nay have received the greatest treasure. I promise to explain all, but first I must just say one more thing.
The young girl my cousin Andara helped to raise when she moved to England became the woman Sir Erik Ragnorsen eventually wed. Ah, those Ancient spinners of webs! Who would have known that this thread would have knitted the tapestry together? Surely, neither I, nor even Andara ever knew what part she would play in the grand scheme of the Great Weavers of Destiny. If you recall, Sir Erik was supposed to marry Bronwyn, but because of his love for Lady Rhianna du Montefort, he could nay marry my Highland Rose.
My cousin, who was really like a niece to me, was placed in the house of du Montefort, much in the same way I was placed in the house of MacCollum; to aid in the raising of children that were nay her own. I suppose she came to love Rhianna like a daughter, so much like I have loved my beautiful Bronwyn. How strange this tapestry is that surrounds me. Though at the time, I could nay know that Andara was being sent to the household that would help bring about my greatest joy. But ye’ see, now I know how the pictures have taken shape.
Erik was ne’er meant to wed Bronwyn! I knew it all those years ago and I knew it when Caleb sent my Rose to the English Winter Court as the pawn in some political chess match. My Highland Rose was to wed Sir Andrew Brandham and bring about beautiful babes of their own from the love grown on the fields of intrigue and monarchial whims. Their babes were the closet things to grand-babes that I was yet to really have. Bronwyn named her first born son Ian. I know not if she did it to honor the love of my life, but I think it was her way to honor him, though she had not ever met him. In honoring him, she honored me. A fine lad he became, too. He is an honorable knight under the Ragnorsen Banner and Sir Erik’s own sons are like brothers to him. He has married a lovely girl, although she is English and he lives and serves in the private guard of Ragnorsen, as did his father before him.
His sister Jenna is beautiful and brave. Though she deepened some of this old face’s wrinkles and further whitened the hair on my head, she was a joy to my heart. Aye, she was a handful, to be certain, but I love her dearly. And she has also aided in providing me with a gift I still canna’ believe is real at times. Och, but the Ancients know what they are doing when they plot and pull their strings.
All these lives in which I meddled and cared and loved have led me now to the final part of my story where the only tears that fall are ones of great joy and happiness. I am ready to share that with ye’ now so all will know that there is redemption and grace among not only the simplest things, but with the impossible or the most lost. I was one of these lost, I suppose, but now I know that miracles and kind compassion is there for the taking for us all. We need only to clear the cobwebs from our hearts and from our eyes. We need only to see how blessings are ours for the takin’.
Chapter Twenty-Eight – A Gift from the Guardians and the One God Himself
Jenna Brandham was a willful child. She was willful from the day she was born and she grew into a willful girl in her youth. When I say willful, I dunna’ mean to say that she was a nasty child, nay indeed, for her sweetness compensated for those times when she took years off many of our lives from her vast misadventures. If there was a game to be played, Jenna played it. If there was a dare to be taken, Jenna took it. She was beautiful, brave and smart and she wanted to live according to her own choosing. She oft said, “I will never marry, Auntie Morag,” for that is what she called me even though I was nay really related to her at all. Still out of respect for me, she embraced me as her own; as the rest of her family had done throughout the ages.
I loved sweet Jenna. I loved her spirit and her tenacity and her kindness towards others. Aye, she was a wild little thing, but she was ne’er cross or mean-spirited. She was a too trusting soul, at times I think, and that got her into more trouble than the many adventures she sought. She believed that all people were good or that their intentions were always honorable and because of that, she put herself into dang
erous situations.
Well now, I suppose it is important to mention that she bore; or rather Kiera Callum Campbell, Derek’s timeless mate, bore a striking resemblance to her. So much so, that even when Gavin laid eyes on Kiera, he sensed the similarities. Now, Gavin had nay met Jenna in life, but hanging in the restored Castle Campbell was a painting done of Jenna before she was betrothed, on her eighteenth birthday. The resemblance was uncanny. If a Guardian could be rattled by such a thing, I do believe that Gavin was by the image of the painting and the girl who had come to redeem his own grandson, set years in the future from when the painting was created.
So after Jenna refused to be betrothed time and again, she was starting to pass the age when a woman was able to be married. She wanted to trot off with her cousin, none other than Brigid Caitlyn, Ruiri’s and Brielle’s oldest daughter. They were more like sisters than cousins and the trouble that found them when the two girls were together cost my old heart a beat or two, I am certain. I dunna’ know how many times these two wandered off and went “camping” under the stars, much to the fright of their parents and of me. Or they would take off for a neighboring fete and sneak their way into rival clan territory.
Och, I could nearly faint straight away thinking upon those things now. Well, it looked as if Jenna would turn down the proposal of every man who sought her hand. Her father, Drew, and her mother Bronwyn were beside themselves. They wanted her to find a man to love, but Jenna was nay interested in settling down. Oh, dunna’ think she did nay like the attention of handsome lads; she did. I dunna’ know how she became so accomplished in flirting with unwitting laddies, but she practically had them eatin’ out of her hand. There was many that came calling fer’ her, but she wanted none of them. I swear her uncle Ruiri was ready to paddle her himself, because not once but several times, he had to knock some sense into some poor boy who had made unwanted advances to Jenna and I suppose to Brigid Caitlyn as well, for where Jenna was, Brigid was sure to be right alongside of her.
On one such occasion, there was a royal envoy that was to stay at the Highland residence of Bronwyn and Drew, the rebuilt and fortified Campbell Keep. This one spring, they had received word to prepare for the Royal Envoy. There had been trouble in the north and this king wanted to put an end to it with a proposition that would seem to appease those who were ever at the start of the insurrection. Jenna worried that it was yet another attempt by her family to get her to settle down and so, she borrowed one of the horses from the stables and set out to hide with Ruiri and Brielle until the guests were long gone from the Highlands.
Until we received a missive from Brielle that Jenna had arrived safe and sound, albeit without a chaperone, Drew and Bronwyn were beside themselves. They had set out searching for her, despite the royal guests that were due to arrive at any time. When they learned Jenna was with Brigid Caitlyn, well, their hands were tied. They needed to finish the preparations for the English King and his retinue. They would have to deal with Jenna later.
The thing is that though Jenna was practically a grown woman, they could nay demand her to return but they needed her to be in residence when the royal guests arrived. I knew that when Jenna dug in her heels, there would be nothing to sway her. As sweet natured a girl, so too, was she as obstinate as a mule. So, remembering that my dear friend from so many worlds away bore the uncanny resemblance, I traveled forward yet again to visit her and to seek her help until Jenna could be returned safely.
I needed for Bronwyn and Drew to save face when the Royal envoy arrived and it would do no good to not have Jenna present when she was requested to be in residence. When I spoke of the trouble, I explained that Kiera would need to come with me, and she knew she was going back to a time that Derek had once lived in.
For some reason, and I know not why, the lass agreed. I dunna’ know if I would have done the same if given the chance, but I am eternally grateful that she did. Not so much because she bought time for Jenna’s shenanigans to end, but she did nay travel alone. Derek could nay come back with her for we dinna’ know if it would make his journey null. As I have explained, though I have breached the veil of time more than once, I was nay certain of the consequences of bringing someone like Derek back to his own time nor did I want someone other than the lass to accompany me.
But there was another, who was Kiera’s kin; who snuck back when I had thought we had passed through and traveled to the year of the May Peasant Insurrection. I know not why he followed along, but perhaps Derek made him in order to keep an eye on Kiera and to make certain she was returned safely to him.
When I realized that Kiera’s cousin had been dragged back in time, as well, I knew not what to do! I was certain the Guardians would have my head, now for sure. I was nay supposed to bring such a stowaway. I knew t’was forbidden. I remember opening my eyes and as I beheld the stalwart lad, panic seized my heart. This was completely against all the rules both spoken and unspoken, I was certain. And though my eyes were opened, I failed to really see the blessing of such a mishap. And a blessing it was! Such a blessing, indeed! Why, my eyes get misty just thinkin’ upon it.
Kiera’s kin is named Thomas. After the shock of realizing Thomas had come along because he had eavesdropped on my conversation with the lass, I started to understand. It was nay a mistake after all and the Guardians would nay punish me for my carelessness, for Their hands were in it all along. T’was in Their grand plan. I know that now.
Anyway, I think that no matter how long a heart aches and yearns for the loss of a piece of it, time is erased upon the reunion. The halves that once were torn asunder would be brought as whole once again.
I stood there and I looked at this Thomas Callum and though he was abashed for causing trouble in his taggin’ along, there was something about the playful smile that was so familiar to me. It was a smile I had almost forgotten, but could nay, really, no matter how much I had wished to. It was a smile that had disarmed me many a time. It was a thing my Ian did when he was guilty of something that warranted my scoldin’. In fact, the little dimple in the lad’s cheek was so like Ian’s that I had to check myself to be certain I had nay travelled too far back to when my Ian was still alive. There was only one other person who had such a dimple; and that was Ian’s son. And then I remembered that the English name Thomas was the same name that I had given my own son, all those years before. Tavish is the Scottish name for Thomas. I felt the ground rise up to greet me, before the darkness claimed me. It is a memory I both cherish and regret for there is a bittersweet nature to it. It happened like this, I recall….
~~~~~
~ “Morag--Morag? Oh my God, Morag, please speak to me.”
Kiera crouched down next to the old woman who had crumpled at her feet. Panic crept over her as she realized that they had landed in the past and now, it seemed that Morag had keeled over. Perhaps, God forbid, it was too much for her and her poor old heart had finally stopped. Kiera patted the old woman’s cheek and she glared at her cousin Thomas.
“Now look what you have done, Tom. You’ve scared her to death.”
Kiera did not want to think about the fact that the only person who knew how to bring her home could quite possibly be dead from fright. “No,” she frantically cried out. “It just can’t be.”
Kiera’s heart was thudding wildly in her chest. What would she do? She regretted her decision to accompany Morag back to the past now and she felt as if she might faint dead away herself. Thomas looked abashed and he now crouched down beside Kiera and took the old woman’s hand within his own. Having lived with his parents; a doctor and a nurse his whole life, he felt for the feeble pulse under the delicate skin near the old woman’s wrist. He felt it throb beneath his fingers and he said, “She’s not dead, Ki. She just fainted.”
“What should we do? Why the hell did you come with us? How did you know what we.…”
“Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“I don’t know. Dear God, this clearly was a bad idea.”
> “You have a bit of explaining to do, too, Ki. I am starting to think that Derek is not just a guy who loves history. I mean I thought you were joking about him being a throwback from the past, and when I saw him, I thought, crap you weren’t kidding. Then he was spewing all that stuff about me going with you, You know, that he couldn’t come but I needed to bring you back. I was wondering why he would be reluctant to do the job he asked me to do. Was he from this time after all?”
“Never mind that! Look, now is not the time for me to explain things. I will if we get out of this, so help me, but not now. Do something. We can’t have her lying here like this. I don’t even know where here is.”
Thomas looked from place to place and he saw that the trees were dense around them. He listened for a moment; all his senses were on high alert and he said, “By the scenery it appears that we are still in Scotland. However, I think we are not in the same time, after all. I hear horses and I smell wood smoke.”
Kiera stood up and looked around. She could see the castle rising above the trees in the distance. It looked different. It did not even look like it was standing in the same place.