by Katy Baker
Irene MacAskill’s words suddenly echoed in Lucy’s ears. Ye can save a life.
Was that what she’d meant? Had Lucy completed the task Irene had set for her? And if so, did that mean she’d come and take Lucy home now?
“I....” Lucy stuttered, humbled by Dougie’s words. “It’s kind of you to say so, Dougie. But I’ve done no more for you than you all did for me. I was lost when I came here. Alone. Now I have friends. A family.”
Dougie smiled. “And ye’ll always have one here, lass.” He put his arm around her and squeezed. “Right,” he announced, clapping his hands. “There’s lots to do for tonight. I’ve the banquet to arrange, the guest rooms to assign, the deliveries to inventory, and a hundred other things besides.” He winked at Lucy, his eyes twinkling. “And when that’s all done, my dear, we have some rehearsing to do!”
Lucy laughed, despite herself. “In that case, I’d better get busy hadn’t I? What would you like me to do first?”
Lucy busied herself for the rest of the day. She helped Annis in the laundry and the two of them passed a good hour or so folding sheets. Her friend gently probed her, trying to find out what had happened between her and Andrew but Lucy found herself unwilling to talk about it so she steered the conversation to safer topics. After this she went to see Mona and spent the afternoon running errands. It was during one such errand that the Murray delegation arrived.
It was late afternoon and Lucy was crossing the outer bailey carrying a basket of fresh flowers that she'd gathered from the meadow when she spotted a group of people waiting by the gates, Andrew among them.
She darted behind the kitchen wall and peered around the corner. Andrew was wearing his full Harris regalia and wore his sword strapped across his back. Captain Donal stood by his side, Dougie and Mona on the other. Andrew stared straight ahead. He held his chin high and his shoulders back but Lucy could tell that he was tense. She had learned to read every nuance of his stance.
A group of people rode through the gates and pulled to a halt in front of Andrew and the others. A man about ten years older than Andrew jumped from the saddle and strode forward, throwing his arms around Andrew and enfolding him into a hug.
“Well met!" The man cried. "It's been too long, my friend!"
Andrew clasped the man's hand warmly. "Ewan, welcome back to Dun Arnwick!”
Ewan Murray grinned and then made a flourishing gesture at the people behind him. "I'd like ye to meet my wife, Gretchen, and our two wee terrors, Ethan and Maisie.”
Ewan's wife, Gretchen, a beautiful woman with clear blue eyes and long shiny hair, jumped easily from the saddle and embraced Andrew. The two children, a boy and a girl who looked to be around ten and eight years old respectively gave good approximations of a bow and curtsey. Mona stepped forward and took the children by the hands, leading them towards the keep whilst the adults followed at a more leisurely pace.
Lucy bit her lip. She knew that Andrew had been looking forward to this visit but now they were here he looked tense and ill at ease. She just hoped that this visit went better than that of Laird Garrick all those months ago.
"SO, HAS ANYTHING COME of Garrick's threat to go to the king?" Ewan asked.
"Nay, not yet.” Andrew shook his head. Word had reached Dun Arnwick that Laird Garrick was intending to petition the king to punish Andrew for his attack. Only the king could sentence a laird and if the petition went ahead, Andrew would need to ride to Edinburgh to stand before the king and plead his case.
"Even if he does, ye can plead provocation from what I hear," Ewan continued. "After all, didnae he accuse ye of stealing his horses?"
"Aye," Andrew muttered. He took another swig from his ale cup.
The banquet was in full swing. Gretchen, Ewan's beautiful wife, was talking with Mona. Ewan’s two children had left their seats with their parents and were now over the other side of the room taking part in an intense stones tournament with Jamie and Laurie. The rest of the household were seated at tables around the room and the hum of conversation filled the air. It was good to see his old friend again. It had been too long.
In truth, that was Andrew's fault. Following the death of Andrew's family, Ewan had sent many messages requesting a visit. Andrew hadn't answered any of them.
It should have been a happy occasion. Andrew should be glad to have his friend to visit. But something was missing.
Lucy.
She hadn’t come down to join the banquet and Annis informed him she chosen to eat alone in her room instead. Andrew didn't blame her. Why would she want to be anywhere near him? But he felt her absence keenly and every time the door opened he found himself glancing up, hoping it was her.
He and Ewan chatted amicably throughout the meal. It seemed that the Murray clan had gone from strength to strength in the years of Ewan's absence from Dun Arnwick. His cousin, Merith, led the clan and formed alliances with the MacFarlanes who had traditionally been their enemies. Trade was strong and there’d been many years of good harvests. Life had been kind to Ewan Murray.
Andrew was happy for him. He glanced at the children who were playing happily with Jamie and Laurie. Once, Andrew himself had dreamed of having his own bairns. But it wasn't to be. He knew that now.
The meal finally ended and it was time for the entertainment. The door to the great keep opened and two figures walked in carrying instruments.
Andrew's heart skipped a beat as he realized one of them was Lucy. She carried his mother’s old fiddle in one hand but didn't look up as she followed Rory to the cleared area to one side of the fireplace. Dougie rose from his seat at the head table and went to join them.
Lucy cleared her throat. She gave a little curtsey to Ewan and Gretchen. Andrew gazed at her, hoping she would meet his eyes, but she refused to look his way.
“We've put together a small offering of music to welcome you to Dun Arnwick, Lord and Lady Murray," she said.
Gretchen gasped and her eyes fixed intently on Lucy. Her hand suddenly gripped Ewan's tightly. Andrew frowned, wondering at her reaction, but before he could ask her Lucy counted to three and the trio struck up their June. Rory played the flute, Lucy the fiddle and Dougie played along on his spoons.
Everyone fell quiet as Lucy began to sing. Andrew had heard her sing before of course, and yet her voice sounded better than he'd ever heard it. It was beautiful. The high notes shimmered in the air and the low notes tugged at his soul, her words transporting him into the heart of the song and the tear-jerking sadness of the ballad.
When the song finally finished everyone in the room burst into uproarious applause.
Gretchen leaned towards Andrew. "That musician? Who is she?"
"Her name is Lucy Jennings," Andrew replied. "A visitor from across the ocean. A land called America."
Gretchen's eyes widened and she shared a look with Ewan.
The musicians launched into another song and everyone settled down to listen. Gretchen, Andrew noticed, watched Lucy intently. Ale and wine flowed and the evening passed pleasantly with first Lucy then Dougie and even Rory singing songs and playing tunes. Some of the tables were pushed back and people began dancing. Andrew’s mood began to lift. It felt good to hear music and laughter in the Great Hall again.
And Lucy was the cause of it. His Lucy.
No, he told himself, his fingers tightening around his ale cup. She's not mine. I must let her go. I must.
His good mood evaporated and instead a dark cloud gathered around his heart. When the musicians finally finished and Lucy left the Great Hall he found himself staring after her, feeling as though ashes filled his mouth.
LUCY LEANED ON THE battlements. The summer days were long and even though it was getting late, the sun still had yet to sink beyond the horizon. The sea gently lapped at the beach below. Lucy sighed.
The usual release that came when playing her music eluded her tonight. Perhaps that was because she’d felt Andrew's eyes on her the whole time. She had avoided looking in his direction for fear of wha
t that might do to her. She ought to forget him. But how was she supposed to do that when his presence was a constant reminder of what she’d lost?
She heard footsteps and whirled to see a woman approaching. It took a moment for her to recognize Gretchen, Ewan Murray's wife.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you jump."
Lucy startled at the woman’s accent. It sounded totally out of place here, just like her own did.
"You...you speak like me.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened. "It's true! My God, it's true! You're an American, like me."
"What?" Lucy asked, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. "I thought I heard the Midwest in your accent but how can that be? I don't understand."
Gretchen stepped up beside Lucy. "Andrew says you're a visitor who he found on the road a few months ago and you claimed you'd been kidnapped."
Lucy didn't answer.
"Tell me, this kidnapper wasn't called Irene MacAskill by any chance was she?"
Lucy gasped. This woman knew Irene!
“Yes! Do you know where she is? She brought me here and then disappeared! I've not been able to find her since. If you know where she might be you must tell me!"
Gretchen held up her hands. "Whoa, slow down. I think you better tell me everything. Start from the beginning, right from the moment she brought you back in time."
Lucy gaped at Gretchen. "How do you know she brought me back in time?"
"Because she did the same to me."
"What? You're from my time? From the twenty-first century?”
"The very same. Until ten years ago I hadn’t the first clue about sixteenth century Scotland, Highland clans, castles and sheep farming. My world was one of shopping malls, cell phones and Internet dating." She laughed at the incredulous look on Lucy's face. "Yep, that’s what I must have looked like when I first came here!”
This was too much for Lucy to process. She shook her head, trying to find the words and opened and closed her mouth a few times. Then she laughed shrilly. "If my Aunt Helen could see me now she’d be shocked. Me, Lucy Jennings, lost for words!"
Gretchen laughed lightly and Lucy realized that she liked this woman. Gretchen had a friendly, easy-going attitude that put Lucy at her ease.
"So how did you end up here?" Lucy asked.
"Ah, now there’s a story," Gretchen said. She leaned her elbows on the battlements and looked out over the sea. "It's really beautiful here isn't it? I can see why you would miss this place. Ewan brought me here for our honeymoon you know? Andrew wasn’t here at the time though."
Lucy nodded, not really listening. "Gretchen, do you have any idea of how I can get home?"
She hated how her voice sounded so desperate but she couldn't help it. Gretchen looked at her with compassion. She straightened and took Lucy's hand in hers. "Oh you poor thing, you really are home sick aren't you? I tend to assume that everyone who comes here learns to love it like I did but I suppose it's not like that for everyone. It’s not like that for you?"
Lucy shook her head. "I do love it here and I've made some amazing friends but I have a family back home, people who are missing me." And I need to get as far from Andrew Harris as I can before my heart shatters completely.
Gretchen squeezed Lucy's hands and gave her a brave smile. "In my experience, and that of my friend Darcy who came through before me, the place of entry and exit is always the same. You don't need to find Irene herself in order to get home. You just have to return through your arch."
"My arch? I came through a window in a church. On my side it was a ruin. On this side it was whole, filled with colored glass.”
"Things aren't always what they seem where Irene MacAskill is concerned. Did you try walking through the glass?"
Lucy had been so disoriented when she first came through the archway that she couldn't quite remember the events of that night. But she knew she hadn’t tried to walk through the glass window. That would have been idiotic. At least, it would be idiotic if the normal rules of the world still applied.
"So if I return to that church I might be able to walk through that window and back into the twenty-first century?"
Gretchen nodded. "That's how it's always worked as far as I'm aware." She cocked her head. "Irene MacAskill doesn't do things randomly. If she sent you back here it must have been for a reason.”
"She said I could save a life."
"And have you?"
Lucy shook her head. That part of Irene's message had never made much sense. She wasn't a doctor or a nurse. She had very little skill in first aid. How on earth was she supposed to save somebody's life? In fact, the opposite had happened. It was her life that had been saved when Andrew pulled her from the sea that night.
"Listen," Gretchen said. "It's getting late and I’d better get back to the children but I'll bet you have a ton of questions, right? How about we meet tomorrow and talk it through?"
Lucy nodded, a wave of gratitude flooding her. "Sure. That would be great."
Gretchen gave her a quick hug then turned and left the battlements. For a while Lucy stood there alone, staring out to sea. Her thoughts turned in lazy circles, throwing up questions without answers. Finally, she went up to her room. She collapsed onto the bed fully closed and screwed her eyes tight shut.
But she doubted she'd get much sleep.
"AH, THAT'S GOOD!" EWAN said, taking another swig from his cup. "Where do ye get it from?"
“Dougie met some traders at the fair who claimed to have the best mead in all the Highlands," Andrew replied, taking a sip of his own drink. The mead rolled down his throat to his stomach leaving behind a warm honey-like taste. "I think he may have been right."
Ewan nodded appreciatively. "Mayhap the Murray clan will visit yer fair next year."
"Ye would be more than welcome, my friend."
After the banquet ended Gretchen had gone out to get some air, leaving the men to retire to Andrew’s solar and catch up on the years they'd missed.
Ewan leaned back in his chair, placing his feet up on a stool in front of the fire. Andrew copied him, enjoying the easy companionship of having his old friend by his side again. Until now, he hadn't realized how much he missed it.
His eyes were sliding closed, the mead sitting warm and comfortable in his stomach when Ewan suddenly said, "So, ye and Lady Lucy. What’s the story?”
Andrew’s eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright in his chair. "What do ye mean?"
Ewan snorted a laugh. "Ye must think I'm blind as well as stupid, lad! Ye were staring at her like a love-sick youth all through the performance tonight. Yer feelings for the lass were written on yer face as plain as day."
"They were?"
"Aye. But what’s wrong with that? She seems a bonny lass from what I saw."
"She is," Andrew said quietly. "More than ye could possibly imagine."
Ewan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looked at Andrew quizzically. "Ye seem distraught, lad. Does she already belong to another?"
"Nay.”
“Did she reject yer suit?”
“Nay. We...um...got close.”
“And?”
"And nothing," Andrew growled. "Enough of this! I won't have Lucy shackled to a man like me! She deserves better!"
Ewan sat back. "I see. And what does she say on the matter?"
"What is there to say?”
Ewan pulled in a deep breath. "Ah, lad, in my experience a lass will have plenty to say on such things. Have ye spoken to her about this? Have you told her the truth of how ye feel?"
Andrew shook his head. He didn’t feel comfortable talking about this, not even with Ewan. Over the years he’d become accustomed to hiding his feelings behind the iron mask of the aloof laird. Lucy had broken down that mask and now he felt exposed. "It's better this way.”
"Better for who? For ye? I doubt that's true as ye look as miserable a man as I've seen. Better for her? How can ye know that if ye've not asked her?"
“I din
na wish to speak of these things anymore!" Andrew snapped. "Lord save me! I’m nay a child anymore! I dinna need to be told how to run my life!"
Ewan turned to stare into the embers of the fire and Andrew regretted his harsh words. He didn’t want to offend his old friend.
After a moment Ewan spoke. "I once made a vow to yer father that I would protect ye. Look out for ye. Just because ye are a man now and many years have passed, that doesnae mean my vow no longer holds." He looked at Andrew. "And if that means giving ye advice ye dinna want to hear then so be it. I've learned the hard way that ye dinna get many chances at happiness in this life, Andrew. When they come along ye must grab them and hold them tight so they canna wriggle free. We all have a path to walk. Ye must find yer way back to yers.”
Andrew looked up sharply. "What did ye say?"
Ye must find yer way back to the path ye were meant to walk.
They were almost the same words Irene MacAskill had spoken to him on the road all that time ago. At the time he hadn’t understood what she meant. But now his old mentor, who he’d not spoken to in years, had said practically the very same words. Coincidence? His mother had never believed in coincidences and claimed incidents such as these were sent by the Lord.
His grip tightened around his cup. A tangle of emotions writhed inside him. Was Ewan right? Was he making a terrible mistake? Was Lucy the person Irene MacAskill had referred to in her strange prophecy?
Andrew didn't have the answers to any of these questions. But he only knew one thing. He loved Lucy Jennings. He loved her more than he'd ever imagined was possible. But could he allow her to love him in return?
“I canna take the risk,” Andrew whispered. "What if I end up making her unhappy? I couldnae bear that."
"Everything is a risk, Andrew," Ewan said. "Everything worth having comes at a price. The question is, are ye willing to pay it?"
Andrew set down his cup, his choice suddenly clear. "Aye. I am.”
Chapter 17
LUCY STARED UP AT THE ceiling. No matter how hard she tried, sleep just wouldn't come. Her mind kept turning over Gretchen’s words. The exit and entry points remain the same. It all seemed so simple now she thought about it. All these months trying to find Irene MacAskill and the answer was in front of her face all along.