MacFarlane's Ridge

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MacFarlane's Ridge Page 17

by Patti Wigington


  Cam looked back towards the door. Wayne would be coming inside any moment. “Please, Mollie, you have to believe me.”

  “I dinna know what to believe.”

  The door opened, and there was Wayne, grinning happily at Cam. “It’s so good to have you back, my dear. I’ve been quite distressed about your little disappearance.”

  I bet you have, you son of a bitch. Somehow, Cam was going to have to convince the others, or at least one of them, that Wayne was lying. If she could do that, maybe they wouldn’t send her with him in the morning. She sat at the table and waited for the others, ignoring Wayne. He tried to make conversation.

  “So. How do you like it here in the wild frontier of Virginia, my darling?”

  Cam narrowed her eyes. “Does it matter?”

  He shrugged and bit a hunk out of his bread. “Have it your way,” he said softly. “You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later.”

  Hamish pushed a mouthful of porridge out onto his chin. Mollie wiped it away deftly. “There now, laddie, keep the porridge in your mouth, that’s a good lad. Your da and Uncle Robbie should be back any time now.”

  As if on cue, the door flung open and Ian burst in, with Rob behind him. “Sorry, Mollie, to keep ye waitin’. Robbie was nearly to the cabin when I caught up to him.”

  Rob said nothing, and merely pulled up a chair as far away from Cam as possible. Charlie flopped down in front of the fireplace, legs in the air. Ian and Mollie took their places. Ian said a blessing, and promptly dove into the food. No one spoke, and the only sound was that of Hamish slurping the porridge off his fat fingers.

  Cam picked at her stew. What was she going to do? She tried desperately to think of something.

  “So… Wayne. How did you manage to find me here?” she asked sweetly.

  Startled, he looked up. “Er… it wasn’t easy.”

  “Do tell?”

  “Why, yes. Well, I stopped in several settlements, and finally someone said you’d been in Liberty. It was just a matter of time before I ended up here.”

  Cam noticed that Rob had shifted his attention to Wayne when Liberty was mentioned. Wait a minute… Cam thought. Mollie said Wayne got here the day after I left. But I hadn’t been to Liberty yet… and when I was there, I was Master Clark, the book merchant.

  “Oh, I see. That was quite clever of you,” Cam admitted. Now was her chance. “Did you happen to ask about Wanda? I haven’t been able to find her, you know.”

  Wayne shrugged. “No one seems to know anything about her. I’m sure she’s long gone by now.”

  Rob looked up, and his eyes met Cam’s. He knows Wayne’s lying! He has to!

  “Master Sinclair,” Rob interrupted. “Your wife, in her delusions, actually told me she was looking for a missing book. She claims it is an old one, and very valuable. Can ye perhaps shed some light on this story for us?”

  Cam studied her fingernails. Things were looking better.

  Wayne broke into a coughing spasm. “Ahem… excuse me. What were you asking me, Mr. MacFarlane?”

  Rob leaned his elbows on the table. “A book, Master Sinclair?”

  “Oh, oh, yes. Well.” Wayne fidgeted, and looked at Cam, who was preoccupied with a line of dribble on Hamish’s chin. Her copy of Macbeth was still safely tucked away in her saddlebag. “That’s all part of her delusion, you see,” Wayne whispered confidentially.

  “Aye, I see very well. In fact, it’s all become quite clear,” smiled Rob. Mollie and Ian were keeping silent, but watching the exchange with interest. “And of course, this claim of hers that ye wish to kill her is also part of her wee delusion?”

  Wayne jumped at that. “I – no! I mean, yes, of course it is. Why would I wish to kill her?” He sighed and gazed sadly at Cam. “I love my poor, sick wife.”

  Cam wanted to throw up.

  Rob nodded. “How long have ye been married, Master Sinclair?”

  Wayne looked longingly at Cam. Now they were in a neutral subject area. “Five delightful years.”

  “Mm. Have ye any bairns?”

  “Bairns? Oh, children? No, that has been one of our greatest sorrows,” Wayne answered morosely. “My wife appears to be barren.”

  Rob bit off a piece of bread and chewed thoughtfully. “May I ask ye a rather personal question about your wife, sir?”

  “Certainly, if Cameron doesn’t mind.”

  Rob waved his hand dismissively at her. “Aye, well, since she’s mad it doesna’ matter if she minds or not, does it?”

  What are you up to, Rob MacFarlane?

  Wayne laughed. “No, of course not. Ask your question, my friend.”

  “Tell me, Master Sinclair, are ye never bothered by… ah, I’m sorry, I canna ask ye this,” Rob blushed.

  “By what? Please, ask away,” pressed Wayne.

  Rob continued. “All right, then, are ye never bothered by the mark?”

  Wayne was puzzled. “The mark?”

  “Aye. That great brown mark about the size of a fist. The one on her arse?”

  Ian choked on his wine, and Mollie dropped her plate, which Charlie leaped to clean up. Cam felt herself turn crimson with shock, and avoided looking at any of them at all. Rob continued, oblivious, munching his bread. “If my wife had a mark like that, I dinna think I could look at it. It’s bloody awful. Although, I suppose if ye’re looking at the front end of her ye wouldn’t notice it as much. Or perhaps after five years a man just gets used to it, aye?”

  Wayne stood, purple with indignation. “And may I ask you, sir, what cause you have had to look at my wife’s… disfigurement?”

  Rob leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Pure accident, Master Sinclair, pure accident. I meant no disrespect. Your wife has been as faithful to ye as ye’ve been to her.”

  Cam tried to hide her jubilation. Of course, Rob had seen her when he had undressed her in the cave, after she had soiled her clothes. And he certainly knew full well she didn’t have any kind of “great brown mark about the size of a fist” on any part of her anatomy at all. He had caught Wayne’s slip-up about Wanda, and had led the man right into a trap. She wanted to hug him.

  “I’m sure Mr. MacFarlane meant no harm, Wayne,” she said, smiling brilliantly. “He stumbled upon me one day while I was bathing, but was most gentlemanly about it.”

  “Oh. Then I apologize, sir, for doubting your intentions.” Wayne looked from Cam to Rob, certain he had missed something, but not entirely sure what. Cam looked flushed, and Wayne wondered if it was just nerves, embarrassment, or something more. Maybe she had a thing for this Robert person. Well, that was too bad for her. After all, he had completely destroyed any hope she might have had of staying here with these rubes. And after tomorrow it wouldn’t matter anyway. He would get her out of here, have a little fun before eliminating her from the picture altogether, and then come back for Mollie Duncan. He practically salivated at the thought of it. He would be known as the man who discovered the Faeries’ Gate, a portal into the past. He would be more famous than Walt Disney. Or if not more famous, certainly richer. This could certainly be more profitable than any other career he had ever had.

  The possibilities were endless.

  “Well, Master Sinclair,” Rob was saying, “I hope ye willna’ mind if I accompany you and your wife in the morning. The woods here can be quite treacherous to a stranger, ye ken? Farmers like Ian have to be on the watch at all times.”

  Cam hid her delight at seeing Wayne thrown for a loop. The man was always so confident, so snide… he was practically squirming under the direct gaze of Robert MacFarlane. “Well,” Wayne said, “I did manage to see my way here just fine.” Cam thought she detected a note of anxiousness in his voice.

  “Aye,” piped up Mollie, catching on to at least part of the game. “But the Shawnee have been hostile lately. And there be bears,” she added pointedly.

  “Mm. Great ferocious bears,” agreed Rob. “Ian, d’ye remember the one that took off Tom Kerr’s arm? Must’ve been twelve feet high
.”

  Ian opened his mouth to say something, but Cam kicked him under the table. Tom had lost his arm thirty years ago at Culloden, and had probably never even seen anything more ferocious than a skunk up close. Cam looked imploringly at Mollie, who glanced her way and then simply left the table, to begin the nightly clean-up, most of which involved Hamish and his porridge.

  Cam glanced at Rob out of the corner of her eye. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself, telling Wayne tall tales about the calamities that could befall the unwary. He was playing the part of the ignorant country settler to perfection. But Cam saw that the mirth did not reach his eyes. He was obviously quite aware of the deadly game in which he was involved. She began to wonder if there was a way she could get Rob alone, away from Wayne Sinclair, and talk to him.

  “Well, then,” Rob announced. “It’s settled. I’ll ride with ye tomorrow to make sure ye get to the next settlement without any mishaps. Perhaps if the weather stays fine as it is, I’ll accompany ye all the way to Richmond. I have a ship there, it would do me good to look in on her.” He got to his feet, belched and patted his stomach. “Mollie, another fine meal ye’ve made. Ye’ll make someone a wonderful wife some day.”

  Mollie looked up, startled. “Thank ye, Rob. Ye’re kind to say so.” She finished with the dishes, and wiped her hands on her apron. Troubled, she looked at Ian and Rob.

  Ian caught her look, and blurted out, “Perhaps a story, Mollie?”

  She nodded, relieved. “Aye. A story would be fine on a chilly night like this, aye? Master Sinclair, do ye like a good tale before the fire?”

  “Er, yes,” Wayne beamed. “Thank you. What sort of story is it?” He settled himself uncomfortably close to Cam, who suddenly found herself wishing she could make herself invisible.

  “Tell us about the old granny woman and the giant,” suggested Ian.

  “Mm, no,” mused Mollie. “Perhaps another time. I have a fine one for Master Sinclair, though. Perhaps one about a selkie.”

  “What’s a selkie?” asked Cam, puzzled.

  Ian picked up Hamish and began to rock him gently. The boy stuck his fingers in his mouth and watched Cam intently.

  “The Sassenachs – the English – call them seals, but they are magical creatures,” said Mollie with a smile. “They can shed their skins, you see, and come up on shore in human form. A selkie lass is very beautiful, and if a human man finds her skin on the shore, he may keep it and hide it, and then the selkie lass must be his faithful wife forever. Now, if she can find where the man hid her skin, she may put it back on and slip back into the sea, and the man will ere long pine away from loneliness. The male selkies… they are fine to gaze upon as well, and many an unhappy woman has found joy in the arms of a selkie man. The selkie men are handsome and dark and strong, and they are the ones who cause there to be storms at sea, and shipwrecks, for they are angry that men hunt them for their pelts.”

  The room was quiet, save for the soft popping of the fire, and the clacking of Mollie’s knitting needles.

  “So, a long, long time ago, there was a poor lass named Katie Beaton. Her mam and her Da had died, and she lived alone in a tiny croft on the Isle of Kilgraeme. One day a man from a nearby village came to her and said he’d been watching her, and thought her the most beautiful lass he had ever laid eyes on, and asked her to marry him. But Katie Beaton was a wise lass, and said she didna know that she should marry him, as he had not spoken o’ love but only of her beauty.

  “The man, who was called Tormod MacNeill, was angry at this, and said he had plenty of money and it did not matter if they loved each other, for he would give her whatever she wanted. Katie Beaton told him, I do not need your great house and your money, for all I wish is to remain here by the sea. Tormod MacNeill laughed, then, and said, Foolish girl, I shall give you until sunrise tomorrow to change your mind, or I shall burn down your little house and then you shall have to come live as my wife, and off he went, laughing, back to his fine house with all his servants.”

  Hamish began to snore delicately in his father’s lap.

  “Poor Katie Beaton,” sighed Mollie, as the knitting needles clicked rhythmically. “She didna want to leave her home by the sea to go live wi’ someone she could not love, especially not a man as wicked as Tormod MacNeill. She sat on the edge of the water and cried, and her tears rolled down into the sea, where they attracted the attention of a selkie. Well, this was a selkie who had lived there on the rocks near her house for years, and he had seen her before too, and he had heard the things that Tormod MacNeill had said to Katie Beaton. So that night, when the moon was high, the selkie came ashore and shed his skin, and beneath the skin he looked like a human man, and a fine handsome one he was. He was tall and dark, with hair black as the seal pelt he wore, and eyes even more blue than the sea in which he lived.

  “And the selkie, whose name was Eoghan, knocked on the door of Katie Beaton’s house, and he said to her, I know you dinna ken me at all, but I have loved ye for years and years. If you would stay with me, I would let ye stay here by the sea forever, for I know ‘twould make you happy. And Katie Beaton smiled at Eoghan, and told him, But I do ken who ye are, selkie, for I have watched ye on the rocks in the water for a long time, and have loved you as well. And so the next morning at sunrise, when Tormod MacNeill came back to fetch Katie Beaton, he could not find her. He asked after her with all the villagers, and they could only tell him that if Katie Beaton had gone into the sea with a selkie, like as not, she would never return.”

  Mollie smiled at Cam. “But it didna matter that she never returned to the wee croft, for she lived on the rocks in the sea with her black-haired Eoghan for the rest of her years,” she said softly. “And they were happy for all their days, and ‘tis all that mattered, aye?”

  There was no sound but the gentle whooshing of the wind outside the house. Cam closed her eyes and could almost see Katie Beaton in the arms of her selkie.

  Wayne cleared his throat loudly, and stretched. “Well, a fine story that was, but I know we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Perhaps we should turn in for the night, my dear?”

  Cam gaped at him in astonishment. There was no way she was getting in a bed with Wayne Sinclair. “I’m not tired.”

  “Master Sinclair,” interjected Rob, “ our Mollie has become accustomed to your wife’s presence. Surely you wouldn’t mind Cameron spending her last night sharing Mollie’s bed rather than sleeping on the floor out here?”

  Wayne looked skeptical, but conceded. “Ah, certainly. Besides, my wife and I will have plenty of time to become reacquainted later on.” He smiled at Cam, and she shivered involuntarily. He looked like a cat ready to pounce.

  Rob started for the door. “That is good of you, sir. You know how women are, aye?” He paused, as if suddenly remembering something. “Perhaps I could borrow your wife for a few moments? One of our calves has been ill and Mistress Sinclair has taken quite a liking to the wee fellow.”

  Cam looked expectantly at Wayne. This would be her only chance. Obviously he thought he was getting his way, because he shrugged indifferently. “Sure, sure. Don’t stay up too late, dear. We’ll be leaving at sunrise.” He winked at Cam and she turned away. Rob held the door for her, and she scooped up her shawl and strode out without looking back.

  As soon as the door shut behind her she whirled to face him. “Rob! Please tell me you – “

  “Quiet,” he ordered. “Dinna say a word until we are away from the house.”

  Instead of going to the barn, he made his way up the path to the small cabin, now near completion. It was late, but there was enough moonlight that she could see Rob, a large dark shadow, ahead of her. He moved quickly, and Cam struggled to keep up. Finally, when they reached the top of the hill, he stopped and turned to her.

  “Rob, now do you believe me?” she panted.

  “Aye, I do, at least the part about this man not being your husband. I dinna know what to think of your story about the Faeries’ Gate, but that’s
no’ really the point, is it, lass?”

  “What am I going to do? I can’t prove that he isn’t my husband,” she stated. “He’s dangerous, and probably armed. And if I leave with him, he’ll kill me and then come back to take Mollie. He told me he would, and I believe him.”

  Rob frowned. “Aye. And ye canna very well turn him in to the authorities, not without drawing attention to yourself.” He looked down at her. “Ye realize the obvious solution would be for me to kill yon odd-eyed Master Sinclair.”

  Cam’s blood ran cold. “No,” she said slowly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. Not because of him, I mean, I would be thrilled if someone put a bullet in his head at this point. But you… I don’t want it to be you. I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He moved closer. “Why not, Cameron Clark?”

  Cam looked up at him. “It would change you. You’d be different and you’d blame me for it, and even if I asked you to do it, it would change the way I feel about you.”

  Their bodies were practically touching now. “And how is it that ye feel about me, Cameron Clark?” he asked softly.

  She looked at him helplessly. “I think you know, don’t you?”

  He nodded, “Aye. But I want to hear you say it.”

  The moonlight glinted off the small scar on his cheek. She couldn’t tear herself away from the depths of his eyes. Cam realized that she wanted to hear it said as well. It was time, once again, for the truth.

  “I love you, Robert MacFarlane,” she said simply.

  Then he was kissing her, hard and furious. His hands were tangled in her hair, and he was enveloping her, crushing her tightly into his body. She could feel every muscle against her, and suddenly they toppled to the ground, and she was lying on top of him.

  “Damn!” he exclaimed. “Sorry…”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “There is something beneath me,” he said, shifting slightly.

  “Better?”

  “No – argh, damn it, there’s a rock jabbing me in the arse.”

 

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