Again My Love (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 9)

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Again My Love (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 9) Page 2

by Diana Knightley


  “Yes, definitely. Is this where I’m supposed to sleep tonight?”

  “Aye, for the warmth. I will stay awake tae watch for the beasts.”

  My eyes went wide. “What beasts?”

  “Tis nae matter in it, I am watchin’ for them.”

  The night was weird. Fraoch barely slept, or at least I barely slept, and whenever I opened my eyes to wonder where I was, he would be in a different position. Once, he was crouched at the fire. Later, standing at the edge of our clearing. And then freakily, crouched near my feet, facing away. When I startled awake, he whispered, “Wheesht.”

  After a few moments he settled back down, whispering, “Nae worries, ye can sleep.”

  “What was it?”

  “I daena ken.”

  Oh.

  When I woke in the morning, he was already up.

  I stretched, sore from sleeping on the hard, cold, medieval dirt. “I’m thirsty.” At home I would have had a glass of water on my nightstand. I would have a water bottle with me constantly.

  “Well, get ye up.”

  I squinted my eyes. “Get ye up? Get ye up, really? Let’s try this again. Fraoch, would you be kind enough to bring me some water? Then you say...” I rolled my hand.

  “Madame Hayley, I will accompany ye tae the stream.”

  “Perfect.”

  I stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around my shoulders. “Were you cold last night?”

  “Nae, twas warm enough.”

  He led me down a well-traveled path, through the woods, to a small stream where he picked a path to a large flat rock and crouched. He washed his hands, then drank from his palm. I dropped the blanket to the path and kneeled beside him, washing my hands in the ice cold water, drinking from my palm, then with panting breaths I built up the courage to splash water on my face. “Cold cold cold cold, oh my god, cold!”

  I asked, “Do I have mascara all under my eyes?”

  He said, “What is it? Tis all around dark.”

  “It’s my makeup. It’s supposed to be making my lashes long, not smearing all under my eyes. Just perfect.” I splashed more water. “Waterproof until this moment.” I rubbed with my fingers. “Now?”

  He put a big, rough, worn thumb to my skin but drew away quickly, instead gesturing at the corner of his own left eye. “Tis here.”

  I used my sleeve, smearing black on it, but then again I had been wearing this shirt for days. It was already a dirty, filthy, mess.

  I also noted that Fraoch didn’t wash, and frankly his stench was... “While we’re here, talking about cleanliness, Fraoch, cleaning ourselves — you should take some water and splash it all around your parts.”

  I gestured for his underarms, because it was all a lot ripe. “Maybe up under your kilt too.” I gestured as if I were pulling my kilt up and splashing water on my undercarriage. “It’s been hot and sweaty and you could use a wash down, because of smell. Please, don’t be offended. I’m not telling you to be mean, just telling you as a friend.”

  “Och.” His brow drew down.

  “I’ll go pee behind the bushes and I won’t look while you do it. But seriously, when I come back, be kind of cleaned up.”

  Without waiting for an answer, I went behind a tree, crouched down, and peed and pooped, using a large leaf to wipe. When I peaked around the tree, Fraoch was applying himself to the chore of washing his armpits with fresh water, splashing some on his hair too, smoothing it back, and scrubbing water up and down on his face. Then he took off his boots, walked knee deep into the water, and splashed water up under his kilt. He waded back to shore and patted his legs dry.

  I returned, noting that his shirt was very wet and his kilt dripping. “Thank you very much, Fraoch.”

  “Ye are welcome, Madame Hayley.”

  I put my hands on my hips and surveyed the situation, babbling brook, bright morning, breeze on the high branches of the trees, no coffee — bleak. “I guess coffee would be too much to ask for?”

  “I had it when I was in London, twas verra good. Ye like it?”

  “So good, so necessary, it helps you wake up. But there’s none here, right? There isn’t a Starbucks?” I sighed.

  “What is a starbuck, Madame Hayley?”

  “It’s a restaurant, kind of like a pub, you know?”

  “Aye, I ken a pub.”

  “Except they serve coffee and sweet drinks and things that are whipped and sugared and so delicious.”

  “Aye, it sounds verra good. I canna offer ye somethin’ such as that.”

  “They’ll be here soon I suppose, I can wait. But, while we wait, what’s for breakfast?”

  “I was goin’ tae return tae Madame Greer’s this morn. I daena have much left tae eat.” He pulled a piece of hard bread from a dusty bag and looked at it so hungrily I knew the kind thing would be to let him have it.

  I said, “No thanks, watching my gluten.”

  He ripped off a hunk, stuffed it in his mouth, and chewed ravenously. He spoke with his mouth full. “What is gluten?”

  “It’s something in bread — nothing, I was joking.”

  “I am supposed tae be eatin’ dark greens, oranges, if I can find them, rose hips, thyme and parsley, and berries. Madame Kaitlyn made me promise, but I haena had any in a long while. I had the scurvy.”

  “Oh, right, that’s why you’re missing a tooth?”

  “Aye.”

  He added, “We will watch the skies for the storm but if they daena come soon, I will go tae get ye some food.”

  “Okay, it’s a deal.” He passed me a bit of bread. It wasn’t enough but I was half his size, it would have to do.

  Three - Hayley

  Back at the hut, I sat in the dirt watching the sky, but soon grew bored. “Where’s your wife?”

  “She passed when tryin’ tae bring forth a bairn.” He was strapping the bag of vessels to the horse.

  “Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

  “Tis nae matter in it, has been verra many years. I hae gone tae the colonies and returned since.” He tightened the strap. “I daena think on it much.”

  “Who’s Madame Greer?”

  “She is a friend of Madame Kaitlyn’s and one of Og Maggy’s aunts by marriage.”

  “You live with her?”

  “Aye, sometimes. Many days she finds me difficult tae have about. She tells me and anyone else who will listen tae her on it, that I am always loomin’ around corners givin’ her a fright. The other day she said, loud enough for the whole village tae hear, that I was ‘givin’ her a headache always in her kitchen wantin’ somethin’ tae eat.’ I told her I was hungry and couldna help bein’ hungry, so she told me tae go on and do somethin’ else. She makes me leave quite regularly.”

  I laughed. “She just kicks you out?”

  His eyes twinkled with humor. “Aye, sometimes with a broom in hand, so I come here tae have some peace.”

  “So this is your man cave.” I looked around the clearing: the hut, the dirt, the smoke, the temperature, the wild beasts just beyond in the woods. “This is a terrible man-cave. I mean, thank you for your hospitality, but you don’t even have a television or a pool table or anything cool. It’s literally just a fire-pit and a horse.”

  He chuckled. “I hae nae idea what yer words mean.”

  I waved him away. “That’s okay, I rarely have a point, anyway. Michael used to say all the time ‘I just nod and smile when you’re talking.’”

  “Tis your husband?”

  “Oh, um, yeah, I guess he is. Yeah, he says that all the time.”

  We sat quietly for a moment then I said, “Okay, now I’m starving.”

  He lumbered to his feet. “Dost ye ken tae use a weapon?”

  “Like what, a sword or a gun?”

  “Ye ken tae use a rifle?”

  “I do a rifle, but not a sword. Though if I had a blade I could probably do some damage. Why, what are we fighting?”

  “We arna fightin’ anyone. Tis in case of highwaymen.”


  “Oh, like thieves?”

  “Aye.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I am nae sure how best tae keep ye safe, Madame Hayley. I daena want tae attract attention tae ye until I have ye dressed properly. I am sure Og Maggy would be able tae handle ye better.”

  “Mags doesn’t have to handle me, I can take care of myself.” I thought for a moment. “I do wish he would get here though. And I’m totally aware that that’s an inconsistency on my part.”

  “I will leave ye here with a weapon if ye ken tae use it. Ye can hide in the hut.”

  He passed me a gun that was so old fashioned that, for a moment, I thought he was joking. “This?”

  “Aye, twill be enough tae aim it at them, ye winna have tae fire. Daena worry, I winna be gone for long. I will return with a meal.”

  “What happens if there’s a storm?”

  He cinched the drawstring on a bag. “If there is a storm daena go tae it, stay here and wait for me. I will go tae it and if it has Og Maggy—”

  “It will, not if, definitely Mags, or the black man, Quentin, or Kaitlyn. One of them, definitely.”

  “I will bring them here, so daena leave. Ye might be lost or hurt and I daena have a way tae protect ye.”

  “Okay, got it. What about the bag of vessels?”

  “They are valuable, I will carry them with me.”

  “Okay fine, that makes sense.” He swung up onto the back of the horse.

  “Will you protect the vessels though? Like really protect them?”

  “Aye, get ye in the—”

  My chin trembled. I looked down at the gun to try to cover that I was about to cry. I couldn’t believe I was stuck in the eighteenth century and this big burly man on the back of the horse was my only hope for survival. He was leaving me all alone.

  “I mean, Madame Hayley, if ye would please go intae the hut, I will go tae the village for some provisions.”

  It hadn’t been what was upsetting me, but I decided to take a deep breath and pretend like it was better. “You’re really getting the hang of that being polite thing.”

  I stood in the doorframe of his closet-sized hut, with all the spiders, just inside of the shadows, and watched as his horse galloped away.

  That was a freaking terrifying couple of hours. Because it was indeed a couple of hours and every sound spooked the shit out of me and there were all kinds of crazy sounds and also, no sounds at all — no ocean, no sirens, no electricity, just the reverberating, echoing silence, the sound of my breath and heartbeat in my ears.

  I clutched the flintlock gun to my chest, remembering its name somewhere down in my psyche, from history class or some kind of reenactment I had watched, not for instructions, but for entertainment. Now I was holding a flintlock rifle and wished I had instructions. Like how safe was this to clutch to my chest?

  I watched through the door. Sometimes I clung to the inside, not watching at all because it was terrifying, so terrifying to stare out at the desolate woods. And these were desolate woods at some point in past history, there were no police, no malls beyond that tree line, no highway out of here. I couldn’t look at it. But also not looking at the woods was horrific, because shit. could. sneak. up.

  It was not lost on me that this would be an epic plot-line for a horror movie.

  And also not lost on me that a homeless, missing-a-tooth, barely bathing man in the eighteenth century had hidden me in his hut in the woods and was keeping me there, and not one person in the history of the world knew I was here.

  Except Kaitlyn and what if she died in the arena?

  She could have died.

  Died.

  And if she died, I would probably die.

  Four - Hayley

  Fraoch returned. We sat beside the fire pit and he spread out the meal. There were loaves of bread, some berry preserves, some cheese, a jar of milk.

  As I ate most of my fear dissipated. “Thank you, this was so necessary, I was starting to get kind of freaky.”

  “Freaky?”

  “It’s like...” I stuck my tongue out and shook my head back and forth.

  He chuckled and copied me, his own freaky face accentuated by his thick beard and wild hair. “I was goin’ freaky as well,” he said, “Freaky Fraochie.”

  I fell back in the dirt laughing. “Freaky Fraochie! Make the face again.” He did.

  “Awesome.” I wiped my eyes from laughing so hard and he kept making the funny face. “Man, it feels good to laugh.” I added, “You have a bit of cheese right here.” I gestured on my chin.

  He wiped it away, and then brushed his beard with his fingers modestly. “Dost I have it all?”

  “Yeah, all cleaned up.” I focused on the branches at the tip top of pine trees close to the sky.

  “This place reminds me of going hunting with my dad, back in the day.”

  “Huntin’ for what?”

  “Deer.”

  “Och, tis big, ye would go? A woman?”

  “I went as a girl, fourteen years old when I shot my first. I hated it actually. Not the hunting part, I loved being good at it, but to my dad hunting was a ‘big big thing’. We would be away from civilization for the whole weekend and he always packed crap food. He seemed to think the fun of it was not having any fun at all. If you thought it was fun, had a bit of a laugh while waiting for the deer to walk by, he got sulky and mean. He would launch into these really long lectures on being a ‘serious person’.”

  “I daena like lectures.”

  “God, me neither. I’m like, we can have some fun or it’s boring. Later, I realized he was bored too, he just didn’t like to laugh. His fun was lecturing everyone on everything. Part of the reason my parents got divorced.”

  “Divorced?”

  “Yeah, they decided to break up, to not be married anymore.”

  “Och, they could decide it?”

  “I guess that would seem weird to you, they had to go to court, divide up all their stuff, but yeah, my parents got divorced. You can do that where I come from.”

  His brow drew down in confusion. “Och, it sounds ghruamach, tae sin against the word of God.”

  “Goomag?”

  He grimaced in explanation.

  I nodded. “That’s how I would have described it when I was growing up. But yeah, this is like hunting with my dad, except better food and company.”

  His mouth parted in a smile within his big full beard. “I am glad I was able tae provide ye with a meal, Madame Hayley. Dost yer husband take ye huntin’ when he goes?”

  “Huh, my — oh, no, he doesn’t like to hunt. None of my friends like to hunt. Kaitlyn’s never even gone.”

  I sat up and watched the sky. “Where is the storm? Why haven’t they come yet?”

  “I daena ken, but there is still enough light on this day.”

  “True. Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just worried something happened to her. What if she isn’t coming because she’s gone?”

  “She will be comin’. I haena known Madame Kaitlyn for long but if she said she would come tae get ye she means tae do it. Did I tell ye of when she came for me?”

  “She did?”

  “Aye, she marched ontae the docks of London amongst the pirates and the soldiers. Her hair was done up tae here,” he gestured above his head. “Her dress was as wide as a door frame, and she was made tae release my chains, and a’cursin’ God over it. She has a mischievous tongue if ye get her drunk enough.”

  “Oh I know it. Angry, she curses like a sailor.”

  “Aye,” Fraoch chuckled. “The sailors were scandalized by the way she was carryin’ on. She demanded I take her arm and I refused, I thought she had the words and actions of a witch.”

  “Well, that’s the other thing about Kaitlyn, she has a nasty mouth but she’s too sweet to be any trouble to anyone.”

  I watched his face as he watched the fire. “That’s how you got here, to this time?”

  “Aye, because I grabbed her arm though I was afraid tae. I am
still nae sure twas a wise decision.”

  “You don’t like 17— what’s the year?”

  “The year of our Lord, seventeen nocht four. Nae, Madame Hayley, this is nae the year tae like or not, this is a different family, and their different land. I daena have the ties I need tae be sheltered.”

  “I imagine that would be rough. After my parents split the only person I could count on was Kaitlyn. When she left to go to college I was pretty bummed for a long time.”

  I watched his face. “Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  “Nae wholly, but I think ye mean ye daena like tae be alone either.”

  “Exactly what I mean.” A squirrel entered the clearing. I watched it for a moment, coming closer and closer. I put out a hand, “Hey little guy, you looking for—”

  Fraoch had moved from his seat around the circle with so much stealth I hadn’t noticed him moving at all. He met my eyes, his meaning: don’t move. The squirrel crept closer and closer to my beckoning fingers. My eyes shifted to Fraoch, a knife raised in his hand. I clamped my eyes tight. A moment later the twitching squirrel was right beside me, a knife through its side.

  Fraoch had a wide smile inside his wild beard. He callously picked the squirrel up by its back paws and announced, “I hae a dinner for ye, Madame Hayley!”

  I gulped. And forced a smile. “Perfect, Fraoch.”

  Night fell. There was something pretty awful about night falling on the second day.

  I wanted to brush my teeth.

  I wanted warm food without having to pick meat off bones, something I had never been that fond of doing.

  I wanted ice water.

  The squirrel had been good, but it was squirrel. I chased it with whisky.

  I was having trouble — my anxiety was growing, like a subterranean panic attack, a lump growing in my throat, threatening to rise up and buckle me under.

  As the night grew darker I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Fraoch accompanied me into the woods so I could pee. My chin trembled holding back my tears. I felt hopeless, sullen, and totally furious. I was here and no one was coming to rescue me. My friends had deserted me.

 

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