Ghosts of Culloden Moor 11 - Adam

by L. L. Muir

  “Where do ye live, Brigit?” I peered into the deepening gloom. I could take her to my home, but she needed help now. Gently exposing one limb, I rubbed her skin briskly. A tiny flush appeared and I moved quickly to her other arm. “Come, Brigit. Ye never told me what yer favorite food is. Look at me so I can see yer pretty eyes. Are they blue, Brigit? Or mayhap brown?” I couldn’t stop chattering. Soni had promised me a chance to be a hero, and I wasnae going to muck it up. I had already accomplished what I set out to do, and though it hurt mightily to think my day was ending and I wouldnae see Mairi again, I couldnae imagine leaving Brigit’s family without their lass just to spend a few more moments with my sweet wife.

  The long shadows of late afternoon stretched into evening. The sun’s rays were losing their strength, and the mounds of snow faded to pink. Soon they would be blue, then grey, and my time here would be over. Brigit’s eyes fluttered and I laughed for joy.

  I searched the pockets of my coat and found my tinderbox. Praises! I hadnae needed it these many years, and couldnae have said if it was still in my pocket or not. Inside was some dry tinder and a small square of char cloth. I’d meant to make more at the morning fire that day of the battle, but we had been mustered early and this `twas all I had left. There would be no room for error.

  “Brigit, I’m going to look for wood for a fire. Ye must stay here and keep bundled up, aye?”

  Her skin was still grey, but her eyes followed me. She neither nodded nor spoke, but I couldnae waste time. I hurried to a fallen limb, some of its branches held high in the air. Carefully brushing away the crust of snow from the cluster of long-dead leaves, I found small, dry twigs deep inside. Encouraged, I grabbed a handful. A deadfall nearby produced some slightly larger pieces of dry wood beneath a layer of snow and branches, and I snatched them up, eager to get the fire started.

  Placing the precious dry wood in my boots to keep it from the wet ground, I scraped away a circle of snow and scattered some pebbles within it. I quickly built a pyre of tinder, placing the char cloth on top. Hands shaking, I struck the fire steel down across the surface of the flint. Sparks flew upward. I nestled the flint more firmly against the cloth. This time a few sparks landed in the char cloth and it glowed with the promise of fire.

  I blew carefully on the embers and after a long agonizing moment, they burst into flame. I caught the flicker of pleasure in Brigit’s eyes and a surge of hope welled in me. Tending the little fire, I soon had an adequate flame and I pulled Brigit into my lap. Unwrapping my coat from her small body, I opened it to the fire, and was rewarded with her small sigh of contentment. I drew my first solid breath since hearing her cry, and settled in to devote my last few minutes in this world to giving this wee lass a second chance at life.

  CHAPTER 12

  “I knew ye wouldnae give up.”

  I jerked my head at the sound of Soni’s voice. She was seated on a rock just beyond the glow of the fire, the familiar greenish aura faint about her, her black cloak blending into the shadows. My heart sank.

  “Not now, Soni. I cannae leave the lass like this.” I gestured to Brigit as she shook in my arms. “Once she is warmed through, I will find where she lives and see she gets there. It cannae take much longer.”

  “Brigit isnae yer challenge, Adam.”

  “Ye mean, I’ve failed?” Though I hadnae given thought to winning the boon of a few rounds with our Bonnie Prince Charlie—all I’d really wanted was a chance to repair the barn and save Mairi from chasing down stray sheep and falling on the ice—to have gotten so sidetracked as to have lost the challenge sent a shock through my system.

  “I thought ye dinnae want a challenge. Ye said ye only wanted to protect yer wife.”

  “I do. I did.” I gave her a hard look. “Are ye not here to take me back?”

  Soni glanced about her. “Yer day is past, Adam. And ye did fix the hole in the barn.” She turned her piercing eyes back on me. “But there is yet unfinished business at yer cottage.”

  A shout rose on the air. Torchlight wobbled some distance upriver.

  “Brigit’s da is coming,” Soni said. “Dinnae linger, Adam. Go and make yer peace with yer pretty wife. I can give ye a few more hours, but nae more. Ye are close, Adam. So close.”

  And with those strange words, she vanished. I had no time to puzzle over the meaning. A burly man, bundled against the cold, came within the circle of light of my small fire.

  “Brigit!” he exclaimed, his voice husky with emotion. The lass lifted her arms weakly to him and he grabbed her from my lap. She was immediately lost within the folds of his plaide and he held her tight. After a few moments, he lifted anguished eyes to mine. With a benign smile, I rose to my feet, shrugging into my damp coat.

  “Thank ye,” the man said. “Her brothers said she fell in the river near the crossing at Strathbogie. By the time they searched for her then came to me, I dinnae hope to find her alive.”

  “I heard her cry for help,” I told him. “She was trapped by a limb and it took a bit of doing to get her free, but I believe she will be fine now with a bit of food and something warm to drink.”

  Brigit’s da reached inside his sporran and pulled out a flask, offering me a nip. I waved him off. “The two of ye need it more.”

  Nodding, he tilted the flask to his own lips, then gently tipped a wee bit into Brigit. She grimaced then grinned, her cheeks flushing bright pink. I imagined I felt the familiar warmth of the whisky as it spread through my body. Brigit’s cheeks flushed and she tilted her head at me from the protection of her da’s chest.

  “How can I thank ye?” the man asked.

  My throat tightened. Someday soon my family would be at the mercy of strangers. “Remember the widows and children,” I said. “Be kind to the innocent.”

  He stared at me for some moments, then gave a single nod of his head. He shoved the flask back into his sporran. “Peace be with ye,” he said as he turned back the way he’d come. Brigit looked at me over her da’s shoulder.

  “Raspberries,” she said. “My favorite food is raspberries.”

  CHAPTER 13

  I shook the remaining pieces of tinder from my boots and shoved my feet into them. I carefully stomped out the fire, then hurried toward home. I could not wait to see my sweet Mairi again, though the parting this time would be hard. Soni had promised me a few more hours to say my piece, see my fill of Mairi and my bairn. He—or she—wasnae due to arrive for another few weeks, but mayhap the bairn would kick again, reassuring me how strong he was. I trudged on through the snow and muck as the shadows lengthened and the last of the sun faded behind the hills.

  A dog’s bark echoed through the trees. I quickened my step, on the lookout for anything out of sorts. Pol barked again, not her sharp ‘something may be out there’ bark, warning the interloper she was alert and protecting the family, but a rapid, distressed bark. The one she used when the sheep were out.

  Muttering under my breath, I broke into a run and cleared the trees surrounding the glen a few moments later. Pol bounded across the yard toward me then darted away. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure I followed, she ran to the house. The door was partly ajar but only a faint glow from the hearth lit the opening. The blood that had streamed so hotly through my veins only moments before, ran cold.

  I took the three steps in one leap and burst through the door. A pot lay on the floor next to the hearth, soup congealing on the floor. Mairi was a dark shape huddled on the bed in the next room. I flew to her side and knelt on the floor next to her.

  “Mairi, mo chridhe, what ails ye? Is it the bairn?”

  Her soft kitten-like mewl of distress tore at me and I ran my palm across her forehead. Her skin was moist and clammy.

  “Tell me what to do, Mairi. I’m here to help ye.”

  Her eyes opened and she stared at me. “Adam? I dinnae think ye were coming back.”

  “Och, Mairi! I had to stop at the river. A wee lass had fallen in.”

  She smiled and touched m
y cheek. “Ye are so caring, Adam—such a good man.”

  Her voice was soft, distant, and it frightened me. “What is happening, Mairi?”

  “My pains have started. They took me by surprise not long after ye left with William.”

  “The bairn isnae due for weeks. Are ye sure?” The words sounded daft even to my ears, but I couldnae grasp the fact that after all my work, after being granted a short time with Mairi, she could still go into labor early and lose the bairn.

  “They came hard and fast at first, though they have settled a bit.” She bit her lip as a pain rippled through her, and she gripped the blanket beneath her.

  As little as I knew about birthing bairns, I could tell these were no ‘early pains’ I’d heard women speak of. The only thing I knew to do was to make Mairi as comfortable as possible and backtrack to William’s house and bring his ma to help. I dinnae like leaving Mairi alone, but I saw no alternative.

  I tucked a pillow behind her back and dashed into the kitchen. I tossed blocks of peat on the hearth and prodded the fire back to life. I added water to the kettle on the hook over the fire. Grabbing a cloth from the stack next to the sink, I filled a bowl with fresh water and hurried back to the bedroom.

  Mairi moaned quietly, and I could tell by her gritted teeth she tried to keep the extent of her pain from me. When it passed, she panted softly. I noticed the straining laces of her gown and it seemed only practical to at least loosen them for Mairi’s comfort. As soon as she eased, I untied the strings. She struggled to sit and between us we removed her gown, leaving her thin shift, which was soon damp with Mairi’s sweat. I covered her with a light blanket to ward off a chill.

  “I dinnae know what to do, Mairi,” I whispered to her after one particularly long pain finally passed. I sat beside her on the bed, her head tucked against my side, one hand draped across my thigh. “Ye need a woman’s help, but I dinnae wish to leave ye like this.”

  Her fingers curled claw-like against my leg. “Dinnae go. Please stay with me.”

  I kissed the damp curls matted on her forehead, tasting the salty tang of her efforts. “We will work this together, then. Ye and me.”

  She nodded and sighed. After a moment I realized she’d drifted into a light sleep.

  To say I was terrified would be an understatement. Men were kept largely ignorant of the birthing process, and I was no better than most. My knowledge consisted of the nervous da pacing the floor as his wife labored to bring the bairn into the world—from the opposite side of a firmly closed door. I’d sat with a couple of my friends in this situation, watching as women bustled in and out of the room, carrying bowls of water—at least I’d thought of that already—and making general shushing sounds to anyone who tried to question them. I dinnae wish to face what was to come by myself, but Mairi needed me, and I wouldnae let her down.

  The room felt overwarm, and I slipped from the bed, careful not to wake her. I checked on the fire in the hearth and damped it down a bit. It wouldnae do to bring a new bairn into a cold house, but his ma would likely labor better if the air wasnae so close.

  My chest was tight and I needed a draught of cold air. I gently opened the door and stepped onto the stoop. Pol’s nails clicked on the wood floor as she followed me. I had not given her a thought since I’d come inside more than an hour ago. Or had it been longer?

  I stretched, noting a tightness in my back. The night was clear and stars winked overhead. I knew there would be another flurry of snow before winter was completely over. A flurry that would sap the strength and morale of men and cause ill-made plans to go awry.

  Why did ye send me back here tonight, Soni? Did ye know Mairi was in labor? Why did ye not tell me so I could get help? I was as close to William’s house as here. She needs a woman’s help, not my fumbling hands and ignorance. Damn it, Soni! Why?

  I stared into the night, the bitter air stretching the skin over my bones. The wind soughed in the trees, rattling the last of the dead leaves lingering on their branches like the clatter of old bones. I scratched Pol’s head. She whined.

  A green glow moved toward the house from the edge of the yard. I knew `twas Soni and I tasted the bitterness of failure in the back of my mouth. She continued to advance and in a moment I could see her form, striding girlishly through the snow, the hood of her cloak thrown back, her arms swinging at her sides. She met me on the steps with a gentle smile.

  “Yer Mairi is doing well?”

  “How should I know? I am no midwife.” My words were sharp, and they tempered the smile on Soni’s face. “What did ye think I could do by coming back? I watch, helpless, as my wife labors, and I dinnae know what to do.”

  All the agony I’d felt when I first read the missive about sweet Mairi’s death settled over me with a punishing weight. The urge to punch something twisted my muscles. With a groan of frustration, I slammed my fist into the door frame, feeling the force of it shudder through my arm and shoulder. My frustration still boiled.

  Soni waited patiently until I regained my composure, hands folded placidly in front of her. “Ye arenae holding up so well, Adam.”

  I raked a hand through my hair. “Nae. I am not.”

  “Might we go inside? I am no midwife, either, but mayhap another woman’s presence would be comforting.”

  How was I to explain a strange woman to Mairi? Earlier, Soni had told me Mairi couldnae see her. She would change that? And my wife would surely know Soni wasnae the midwife or any local woman. Would Soni convince Mairi at last that I was a ghost? Mayhap her soothing presence would help Mairi accept the fact I would soon be gone.

  I nodded and stepped aside, allowing Soni to enter the house. She slipped her cloak off and I draped it over the back of a chair near the hearth. I dinnae know why I thought she might like it warmed before she set out again, but I would have done so for any guest.

  Soni glided into the bedroom. Mairi still slept, but was restless, and the blanket had slipped away. Soni grasped the edge of the covering and gently pulled it to Mairi’s shoulders.

  Mairi’s eyes flickered open and I tensed.

  “I am here to help ye,” Soni murmured. Mairi stared at her for a moment, then nodded her acceptance.

  CHAPTER 14

  And just like that, my presence seemed unneeded, unwanted, without purpose. And yet, I couldnae leave the room. Soni beckoned to me and I jumped at the chance to be useful. Together, we shifted Mairi to her feet and stripped the bed. She sent me for fresh straw and I barreled my way to the barn for a large, fragrant armful. Piling it on the mattress, Soni then had me cover it with a clean sheet and several layers of linens before allowing Mairi to sink back onto the bed.

  I bundled the soiled sheets and set them aside to deal with later. Soni leaned over Mairi, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words to her.

  “Should I fetch my good-sister?” I asked, once again at a loss as to what to do, feeling the urge to bring William’s ma to help.

  “Let us see how she progresses,” Soni answered.

  “`Twill be dawn soon, and I can send my nephew William for his ma if needed.”

  “That sounds like a grand idea,” Soni replied in a calm tone.

  Mairi seemed encouraged and weathered the next labor pains stoically. I cringed and fretted—me, who’d seen men maimed and mortally wounded—wishing I could take her pains upon myself.

  Suddenly it occurred to me—I was going to see my bairn! My breath shortened and a wave of dizziness washed over me. This was a boon I never looked for! I knelt at the other side of the bed and took Mairi’s hand. “Ye are doing grand, lass. Just grand.”

  I glanced at Soni and caught her eye. She gave me the sweetest smile, reassuring and triumphant all in one.

  “I wasnae sure she would birth the bairn in time for ye to see him,” she said softly. “I cannae let ye linger beyond morning.” Her rejoinder was wistful, but I was too overcome with gratitude to begrudge her the constraint.

  Mairi tightened her grip, her eyes boring i
nto me. “Ye arenae staying?”

  I tilted my head, beseeching her to understand. “I cannae. I told ye I couldnae stay—”

  “But ye said ye couldnae stay past nightfall,” she protested, her eyes welling with tears the birth pains couldnae force from her. “When ye returned after dark, I thought . . .”

  “I was given a few hours more, but only a few.”

  Mairi glanced at my hand where her fingers stumbled across the cut from my dagger the day before. It hadnae bled, but neither had it healed. “Yer poor hand! What did ye do?” Puzzlement over the long gash gave way to dawning understanding. “Ye dinnae bind it, nor have it sewn closed, yet it doesnae bother ye?”

  She offered me one last chance to recant my story, to tell her `twas all a jest and I wasnae a ghost. Silence thickened. I rubbed her palm with my thumb, turning my hand to hide the wound.

  “I will bleed no more, Mairi. As a ghost, I cannae eat, and I willnae bleed. But I will love ye forever.” I brushed her hair back from her forehead. “All I wanted was to be certain ye and the bairn were well. And I must take this moment to tell ye to leave here as soon as ye are able.”

  A choked sob escaped her. “Dinnae tell me such things. Tell me of how ye wanted to grow old with me, raise our bairns, teach them to swim and hunt and fish.” She could no longer control her tears and neither could I.

  “I can think of no one I’d rather grow old with, Mairi. Ye are the perfect half of my life. My heart has ever been in yer keeping. Remember that when ye think of me.”

  She crawled into my arms and we huddled together. I finally gathered the words that needed telling.

  “Mairi, listen to me. After this battle, things willnae be safe for those who supported the Jacobite cause—even ye and the bairn. I want ye to promise ye will move in with my brother’s family until ye and the bairn can travel. Things will be hard, Mairi, and many will flee to America. I want ye to be among them.”