“Mollie, are ye alright?”
She nodded grimly. “Aye, but my pride is hurt something terrible. I shouldna’ trusted that man and let him in the house. D’ye think Ian will forgive me?”
“Mollie, he’d forgive ye anything. Where is he?”
“In Betsy Kerr’s bed. She isna’ in it.”
“I should hope not, if Ian is.” He kissed her lightly on her bruised forehead, and went to find his brother. Ian was curled up in a ball on the bed in the back room. “Ian,” said Rob cautiously.
Ian rolled over and Rob started involuntarily. Even in the dim candlelight, he could see that Ian had taken a terrible beating. His face was swollen almost beyond recognition, and there was a scrap of bloodied linen tied around his forehead and one eye. His lips were split and cracked, and it looked as though a few teeth might be missing. “It’s about bloody time ye came back,” he said thickly.
“Ah, Ian. I’m so sorry, lad.”
Ian waved a hand at him. “It isna’ so bad now that I got me eye covered up. I dinna think it will work anymore.”
Rob was concerned. “What the hell did he hit ye with?”
“I dinna know for sure, but it was big and it hurt like the devil.” He paused, and thought a moment. “I think it may have been a fence rail, but I didna’ see it comin’.” He squinted up at Rob with his uncovered eye. “Did he take the lass?”
Rob sighed. “I dinna know. Tom seems to think she got away and went looking for me. Ian, I’m damned sorry. I shouldna’ left ye alone with him. She said he was dangerous.”
“Aye, that he is,” agreed Ian.
“And now ye’ve lost an eye because of it,” continued Rob.
“Well, it could have been much worse. I could’ve lost Hamish, or Mollie, but I didna’. Tom says your lass brought them here in the wagon.”
Rob nodded. “So, brother, now what do we do?”
“We go out and find your woman.”
“She isna’ my woman,” Rob argued, nudging Ian playfully.
“Ow. Well, if she isna’, she should be. Ye know ye’re in love with her.”
Rob stared into the candle flame. “Aye.”
Much to the alarm of Tom and Sally Kerr, and over the loud protestations of Mollie Duncan, Ian and Rob saddled up. Ian had Sally’s mare, and Rob clambered onto a foul-tempered brute of a stallion that belonged to one of the Kerr boys.
“Ian MacFarlane, ye’re a bloody fool if ye go out in this condition! Ye’re hardly fit to walk, let alone ride a horse for God knows how many days,” announced Mollie angrily.
“Well, Robbie can tie me on if I start to slide off.” Ian placed his hands on Mollie’s shoulders. “Now, listen, Mollie. I didna’ go look for Sarah, even after we heard tell she might be alive, did I? And she’s dead because of it, and I’ll live wi’ her ghost the rest of my life. Mollie, Robbie needs me.”
Mollie looked at her feet. “I need ye too.”
He smiled through his broken lips as he climbed onto his horse. “Then I’ll have to come back, won’t I? I promise.”
Mollie peered at Rob. “Ye’d better bring everyone back safe and sound, Robbie.”
Rob flashed a grin at her. “I hope to. And you stay right here, Mollie. We MacFarlane men seem to misplace our women a wee bit too often.”
His smile belied his fear. First, they would have to go back to Ian’s house and make sure that Wayne Sinclair was still there. Tom and Sally hadn’t seen him come down the trail, and Cam had told them he was unconscious when she left him there. Rob had tucked one of Tom’s pistols into his coat just in case Sinclair was feeling saucy when they caught up with him.
He was disappointed. When they approached the house, Ian lit a torch, and they could make out a bloodstain in the snow near the woodpile. A trail of bright red droplets let around the back of the house into the woods, and then disappeared. They searched the house, just to be sure, and the cellar as well, but Wayne Sinclair was nowhere to be found. Mollie’s horse was also missing. Charlie sniffed around, barking, but seemed to be going in circles.
“Damn,” Rob muttered under his breath. “The wee bastard is gone.”
“Well,” mused Ian, “he couldna’ have gone far. He doesna’ know the territory.”
“True, but neither does Cameron. I didna’ pass her on the trail back home, so I dinna think she’s headed to Liberty.”
“D’ye think she’s gone back to the Faeries’ Gate?” Ian asked, concerned.
Rob slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. “I dinna know, Ian! She’s gone, and Sinclair’s missing – what am I supposed to think?” He stopped to catch his breath.
Ian chattered away. “All right, then. She didna’ go southeast, because she’d have had to run into you, which she obviously didna’ do. She might have gone west, which would take her toward the Faeries’ Gate, but Tom said he definitely saw her turn east when she left the Kerr place.”
Rob looked up. “He was sure?”
“Aye.”
Rob thought hard. “Is there another part of the trail, that she might have turned off before she got to me? Could we have missed one another?”
Ian shrugged. “A few miles from here there’s an old cargo road that Geordie’s soldiers built a few years back. No one really uses it now, though.”
Rob wheeled his horse around. “Where does it go?”
“South, into the Carolinas, and east, towards Richmond, as I recall. D’ye think that’s where she may have gone?”
“I dinna know, but I mean to find out.” He kicked the horse, and took off down the hill into the moonlit night. Ian simply groaned, and tried to keep up with his brother.
Cam was cold, hungry, and exhausted. She had been on the road for what seemed like forever. When she departed in such a hurry, to get away from Wayne Sinclair, there was no time to gather provisions. All she had was a small sack of bread and dried meat that Sally Kerr hastily put together for her. She was rationing her food, because she had no idea how long it would be before she ran into civilization again. Somehow, she had missed Rob on the trail, and gotten herself all turned around. She had been out for about three days now, give or take, and she had no idea which way to go. Not only that, it would be just as easy for her to stumble onto Wayne Sinclair as Rob MacFarlane. She had left Wayne lying on the ground, but he was still alive. There was a very real possibility that he had recovered and decided to come after her. He had promised to do that, and she had no doubt that he would be true to his word.
There was one other possibility. If she could get herself on a trail headed east, she might be able to make it to Richmond. Once she did that, there was a chance she could find her way to the docks, and The Lady Meg. Rob had said he would be selling the ship in the spring, and Cam thought she could get to Richmond about the same time he did. Her biggest problem was that she had no food and no money. But I do have a good horse and Hugh Duncan’s sword, she thought. If she sold the horse she would lose her sole means of transportation, but if she could find a buyer for the sword, she might be able to gather enough money to eat.
She didn’t hear the cart approaching until it was practically on top of her.
“Move! Get the hell out of the way!” screamed a woman’s voice.
Cam turned in alarm, and Betsy stumbled in reaction. Panicking, Cam tried to control the mare. The cart bore down on her, and a collision was imminent. Cam couldn’t control Betsy, and instead decided to follow the driver’s advice. She slid off the horse and raced to the side of the trail.
“Aaah! Damn it, you stupid beast! I hate you!” yelled the woman in the cart, thick red braids flying behind her. Her horse came to a screeching stop, just centimeters away from Betsy, who merely stood in the road, blinking. As Cam watched from the trees, the woman tried to control her rage. Cam couldn’t see her face, but could tell she was livid. The woman took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. She repeated the movement twice, and as Cam watched she caught a whiff of a familiar scent. This is unbelievable, she th
ought.
Cam stepped out of the bushes. “Mm. Patchouli. Are you at one with your karma, or just at a pay phone?”
Wanda Mabry looked up, startled, and grinned broadly in a flash of recognition. “Well, I’ll be damned. It took y’all long enough to get here.”
Cam shook her head. No wonder she had a houseful of cats. Wanda obviously had nine lives.
“I thought you were dead. I’m glad to see you’re not,” she said happily. Struck by a thought, she pulled Wanda’s crystal from under her shirt, lifting the thong over her head. “Here. This belongs to you.”
“Thank you. I’m glad I’m not dead too. It was a close one, though. Nearly drowned. Not a banner day for me, all things considered. How are things for you here? You thought I was nuts, didn’t you?” winked the history professor.
“Wanda, Wayne Sinclair is here.”
Wanda wrinkled her nose. “Well, shit. Where is he?”
“I’m not certain,” admitted Cam, climbing up beside Wanda. “Last time I saw him he was unconscious and bleeding.”
“Well, then there’s hope yet. Where are you headed, out here alone on a horse?”
“I’m not sure, now. I had planned to go to Richmond to meet Rob in the spring, but now that you’re here, maybe we should go back to the ridge.”
“Wait a minute, back up, honey. Rob who?” asked Wanda.
“Oh,” blinked Cam. “I didn’t tell you. Robert MacFarlane. I met him, and Mollie Duncan too. Rob is the one who found me when I got here.”
Wanda smiled knowingly. “Ah. Is he cute?”
Cam blushed. “He is very attractive, and that is all I am going to say about him. Did you find your family?”
Wanda shrugged. “Yes and no. I found their settlement up near Big Lick – that’s Roanoke to you – but there was no one there. It’s been abandoned for a while now.”
“Maybe they just moved,” suggested Cam helpfully.
“No. There were still arrows in the walls of the cabins there. Shawnee raiding party,” replied Wanda, a catch in her voice.
Cam stared. “I am so sorry, Wanda. Now what will you do?”
She shrugged. “Good question. I can stay here, or I can go back. I expect I’ll have to stay, but that’s something I haven’t quite worked out yet. What about you? Why are you still here?”
“I was looking for you, but like I said, we had heard you were dead. Rob was going to send me back through the Faeries’ Gate, but before he could, Wayne came along. Wayne wants to take Mollie Duncan back with him as a souvenir, and open up the Faeries’ Gate as a tourist attraction. In the process, he was planning to kill me. I think he might have killed Ian, too, but I don’t know.” Cam paused for breath.
“Wow. You have been busy, haven’t you?” said Wanda admiringly. “So what’s up with Rob? He’s going to meet you in Richmond?”
Cam shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know he’s meeting me there. He doesn’t know where I am at all. I just know he’s going to Richmond in the spring to sell his ship. I figure if I find the ship I’ll find him eventually.”
“What if he gets so sidetracked looking for you that he doesn’t make it to Richmond?” pointed out Wanda.
Cam threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t know! What else can I do? If I go back to MacFarlane’s Ridge, and Wayne’s still there… aargh!”
Wanda pulled a bottle from under the seat and offered it to Cam. “Here. You need this.”
Cam took a long swig, and gasped, her throat burning. “What is it?” she croaked.
“Whiskey, my friend. One of Scotland’s finest contributions to society, besides golf and Sean Connery. Now listen, Cam, we can get to Richmond, but there’s a good chance Rob may not be there, okay?”
Cam nodded, tears in her eyes. Her mouth was on fire, but the rest of her felt nice and warm and tingly. Wait a minute – what had Wanda said?
“Why? Where is he?” she whispered suspiciously.
Wanda shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s send this old nag of yours back home.”
“No, Wanda, what are you talking about?”
Wanda ignored her and removed Cam’s saddlebags from the mare. She swatted Betsey on the rump, and the horse trotted away out of sight.
“Wanda?” Cam jumped out of the cart and hovered next to Wanda. “What is it? Oh, no, wait a minute. You’re a history professor – you know what happens to all of these people, don’t you? You know?”
Wanda spun around to face her. “You think I like being in this position? Knowing that if I talk to the wrong person or do the wrong thing, that I could change history? You’re in the same boat, you know.”
Cam frowned. “What are you saying?”
Wanda sighed. “Look, let’s say we go down this trail and accidentally run the cart into another wagon – which could certainly happen because my horse is stupid. Suppose the other wagon is carrying, I don’t know, George Washington, or the great-grandmother of Abraham Lincoln? What if all the occupants are killed? Does that mean that George stops leading the Continental Army, or Abe Lincoln is never born?” She stared at Cam. “Don’t you see? Every action we take will determine what happens at some time in the future, even if we don’t realize it. That’s why I can’t tell you to go to Richmond or not to go to Richmond. Because whatever happens, either it happens because you were there or because you weren’t. But I don’t know which.”
Cam sat back down slowly. “Wanda? Will you go with me? Help me find Rob?”
“You’ll definitely need help. We still have to deal with Wayne Sinclair, remember?”
Chapter Ten
March 28, 1776 –
We have received word from my brother Angus that he is now in Richmond, returned from the Congress in Philadelphia, and is attempting to locate a buyer for the Lady Meg. He enclosed for us a copy of Common Sense, by Mr. Thomas Paine, an Englishman, which he bought for two shillings. Mr. Paine states that no government that is just can fail to defend the idea that all humanity is entitled to the equality of rights. He is a brilliant man, and I am certain that the Colonies’ battle for Independence shall soon draw our men of Virginia into its fold. The militias have formed, and all are eager to fight the Crown.
I have written to Angus and advised him of the happenings here on the Ridge. He will meet Robert at the Lady Meg in Richmond. Ian is now back safe with us, and for that I am thankful. It seems that he may not lose his eye after all, although he does have a most frightening scar above it. We have not seen the cad Wayne Sinclair since the day Miss Clark left us, and Robert is angry that he has been unable to locate her. I suspect Mr. Sinclair is now long gone, but I am still fearful that he may someday return. I pray that, wherever Miss Clark is, that she is safe from his clutches.
Richmond, VA
Angus Duncan was enjoying himself immensely. He was surrounded by a bevy of lovely young women of questionable moral character. He loved Richmond. He had been here nearly a month now and knew that eventually he was going to have to make his way home. It was a shame, really. Things were rather dull on the ridge, compared to the excitement of life in Philadelphia and Richmond. The cities both appealed to him.
Angus made himself at home in the dockside taverns, particularly the one where he kept a room, the Captain Carter. He liked the sailors and their gruff ways, and occasionally felt himself longing for a life at sea, a life like the one Robert had enjoyed for the past fifteen years.
Angus was a small and lean man with wire-rimmed glasses that perched on the end of his pointed nose. He had been ill frequently as a child, and had immersed himself in books as a boy while the other children, including his younger sisters, played outside. In truth, although he had always wished for excitement and adventure, the clerical life had suited him well. It had earned him some respect here in the Colonies, enough that the people of the ridge and nearby settlements had sent him as a delegate to the Continental Congress. There he had met men of standing, including a dashing red-headed planter from Virginia, a fellow named Tom Jef
ferson. Now, back in his home state, Angus was simply biding his time on the wharfs, waiting for his brother-in-law to arrive at The Lady Meg.
There was a fair amount of ships in port right now, waiting for spring to arrive so they could set sail to their far-off destinations. The docks were a whirlwind of activity, with sailors and civilians milling here and there. There was a conspicuous amount of red-coated soldiers as well, and officers who claimed to be “customs officials.” Angus knew better; these were excise men employed by the Crown to make certain that nobody shipped anything they had not paid a duty tax on.
Every day, Angus went to The Lady Meg. Ninety feet long, she was a wide-keeled vessel, and was shaped rather like a long, fat bowl. Her three masts held a total of eighteen sails, and there were constantly men climbing up in the rigging to repair this or check on that. Angus noted the gun ports around the deck. There were at least a dozen four-pounders that he could see, and he suspected there were even more that he couldn’t. Her hull was painted a forest green, and she had a broad white stripe that ran around the water line. At the bow, a full-breasted wooden mermaid resided. It was no wonder Rob loved the sea so much; his ship was beautiful.
Although Rob was the first mate and partial owner of the ship, the man actually in charge was a Captain Dominic Thibodeaux, whom Angus had yet to meet. Every time he went to the wharf, Thibodeaux seemed to be busy. Angus excused himself, much to the dismay of the tavern girls, and exited the inn. It was the beginning of April now, and most of the ships would be leaving within a day or two. Rob was going to have to get here soon if he planned to sell his ship.
Angus made his way to The Lady Meg’s dock. An English officer stood at the loading plank.
“Back again, Mr. Duncan?” he asked politely.
“Aye. Do you know if the Captain is about?”
The man shrugged. “Go see for yourself.”
Angus nodded pleasantly, and wandered up to the deck. He had been here so often that the sailors were friendly towards him now. A cabin boy scampered up to him.
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