Magnus’s eyes went wistful, “Och, ye will be playin’ while we look out over our lands. I will like it verra much, twill bring some of Scotland here tae our moor.”
Quentin laughed. “It’s a marsh, not a moor, though I can see the similarity. I warn you though, right now her playing sounds a lot like cats in heat but she practices, she’ll get good at it.”
She laughed merrily.
Quentin put an arm around her. “When we were tired of oatmeal, which was never quite right—”
“It dinna taste like brose, twas disgustin’. I be stirrin’ it and twas awful tastin’.”
He said, “After that we shopped in the frozen foods section and nuked all our meals in the microwave.”
Zach groaned. “You need much better nutrition than that, I’m regretting my dinner choice tonight.”
Quentin laughed. “I think chef-cooked chicken fingers are definitely more nutritious than what we have been eating...”
Beaty’s brow drew down. She asked seriously, “Have ye had Scaldin’ Pockets afore, Queen Kaitlyn? They will hurt yer tongue verra much if ye arna careful.”
Quentin chuckled. “Mistakes were made in the cooking, definitely. The only thing we haven’t figured out is oatmeal, can’t get it right.”
“You’re going to be happy Chef Zach is home.”
Zach said, “Tomorrow I’ll make old fashioned oats with all your favorite toppings. Would that be good, Beaty?”
She smiled. “I would like that verra much. But let’s have some chocolate chip pancakes in case I daena want the oatmeal. I mayna like anythin’ from home anymore, nae much...” She sighed dramatically. “I am verra much missin’ Murthy.”
I asked, “Who is...?”
Quentin said, “Murthy is the pig.”
“Nae just any pig, she was the verra best pig, and she was close tae havin’ her spring litter. I daena ken if she is okay...”
Quentin said, “Next person who goes to the eighteenth century will check in on Murthy, I promise.”
“Could they bring Murthy with them? Twould be good tae have a pig here. They keep ye warm and ye can talk tae them. Twas verra lonely here with ye all gone. I am glad tae have ye all home, I daena like tae have the house so quiet.”
We ate on paper plates with rolls of paper towels because though Zach had managed to grocery shop, he hadn’t fully gotten the kitchen ready. We forgave him for it since the piles of crispy chicken fingers were perfect plus he had five kinds of dipping sauce.
The table was too small so some of us ate at the kitchen counter while rest of us packed around it. During dinner we planned how to fit a larger table into the dining room and then right after dinner Quentin stood and with a big three-ring binder open went over the house rules:
Weather channel on at all times.
Monitoring the monitor at all times.
I was apparently no longer allowed a real phone, now I got a burner, like a drug dealer.
No one was allowed to be on social media.
Quentin had the safe moved into the house, but he wanted a bigger one and was discussing with the consultant about installing a panic room.
We also had a dock with a boat for quick getaways.
We also had a bigger arsenal.
Our office looked like a freaking exiled dictator lived there.
When I mentioned that, Quentin said, “Exactly, that’s what our security consultant deals with. That’s why I picked him. We have an exiled king. It requires the big guns.”
My answer was, “Shit. That’s what this is, exile? That kind of freaks me out.”
Our meeting devolved into us complaining about not going on social media. We understood why but we weren’t happy about it.
Zach said, “What about my work account: Looking for Cooking at Cooksunited.com?”
Quentin said, “Nope.”
Emma joked, “What about Tumblr, Moms Who Think?”
“No, not anymore.”
Zach said, “What about my online portfolio: tall cooks who dabble in cooking porn?”
Quentin feigned incredulousness. “What is cooking porn?”
“Like porn, but stuff drips off the spoon.”
“Hell no.”
Emma said, “So how many Facebook groups for Outlander fans are out of the question?”
“All of them.”
Everyone laughed.
I asked, “How many are you in?”
“About eight.”
“Jeez Louise, how many groups are you in overall?”
“About 115. Mostly parenting, Outlander, Instant Pot recipes.”
Zach said, “Why on the... why? I so regret the chicken fingers. Tomorrow night I will make such a good meal that my wife will quit the Instant Pot recipe groups and stop cheating on me.”
“And Jamie Fraser doesn’t feel like she’s cheating?”
“No, that just makes sense, he’s totally hot.”
Everyone laughed again.
We felt safe and warm and well fed. It was a reunion of togetherness.
We knew trouble was brewing, we knew this happiness wouldn’t last, but still... this was good.
Archie climbed on my lap, curled on my chest, and suckled his fingers until he fell asleep and while I was pinned Chef Zach kept the beers coming.
Ben fell asleep in Emma’s arms while Magnus told everyone the story of Picasso. They all marveled and said, “Holy shit,” and stuff like that.
Because Magnus did a perfect impression of Picasso, touching my chin, looking into my eyes, and I was reminded how much freaking patience my husband had, how much gentleness.
The man had been trying to provoke him and there had sat my husband, on his silk chair, in the year 1904, unprovoked.
It was one of the things I loved about him, his lack of jealousy, his ability to accept, and deal and stay calm in the face of trials. I wondered at it, but thought that it was his foundation, his family, me, his loyalty — we gave him the strength to feel secure.
And I remembered back to what my Grandma said, about how he was trying to protect me, and it would be my job to be strong for the family. To let him. And grow the good memories for all of us.
We had his back. He trusted us, me, completely and not in the prove yourself way — he trusted me, that I was tying myself to his family and him in a way that was so fucking old fashioned, but also so hot — to be trusted and loved this completely, this much. He was all I ever wanted, I was all he ever needed.
And watching him mimic Picasso sprawled on Lady Mad’s lap, which everyone agreed was an apt name that might need to stick, while she fed him pear slices and...
“Hayley said, “Ew, really. Like sexy? Like sensual?”
She hugged an arm around Magnus. “I’m so sorry your mom has turned out to be such an icky person.”
I laughed, “I’m of the opposite opinion, seeing Lady Mad with Picasso was the first sign she was a human being. I know it was hard on Magnus to deal with Picasso being such a scoundrel of a guy, but at least he wasn’t evil. He wasn’t trying to kill you or coerce you to kill others for sport. As a man in Lady Mad’s life he actually is pretty high on the likability scale, past the drunken debauchery of course.”
The conversation wound down and Magnus stood, peeled Archie off my lap, gingerly got him to his shoulder, and carried him down the hallway to our room.
Quentin asked Beaty if she wanted to go to their house across the driveway, she said yes, because there was a show she wanted to watch and followed him bounding from the room.
I watched them go and shook my head. “So let me get this straight, soon enough this house is going to be full of the sound of bagpipes and there will be a pig, for sure, Quentin will get her one and we’ll have a pig living here.”
Magnus returning from the bedroom, overhearing our conversation, and completely missing the point, said, “We can put its pen near the stables.”
Zach said, “I can’t believe the two of them were eating microwaved food for the last
month. I will have to step up my game — everyone needs vegetables, vitamins, whole grains. This is a travesty, next someone in this compound will say they are missing eighteenth century food.”
Magnus said, “Tae match it ye would have tae leave away the sauce and spice and sugar and what would be left? The blood and gristle of a—”
I groaned, “Ugh, don’t talk of the blood sausages, those sucked duck dong.”
Hayley returned from the bathroom. “What — duck dong?”
“The food of the eighteenth century.”
“Ah, yeah...” Her eyes went wistful.
I said, “Okay, we have to talk about this. Now, what is happening?”
Zach and Emma jumped up. “We’re headed to bed, long day and all.”
Emma said, holding Ben in her arms, “I just wanted to say how glad we are to have everyone home, new home, but under the same roof, or roofs. I had a little much to drink, but glad you’re all home.”
“Me too, thank you for being here to welcome me.”
They left for their rooms.
Thirty-seven - Kaitlyn
Hayley said, “Another beer?” She brought us a round and delivered them to us on the couch and then sat down across from us on a stuffed soft-leather chair.
She sighed, deeply.
I took a swig of beer before I asked, “What’s happening, out with it.”
“I think I might be dying. Or — like plague or something.” She stretched at the neck of her shirt.
“Honey, have you seen the doctor or—”
“No, it’s not like that, I don’t need a doctor.”
“I think if you have the plague that’s exactly what you need.”
She sighed again.
“Maybe tell me, what are your symptoms?”
“I can’t concentrate. I’m kind of sad. I don’t want to do anything, kind of up and down and confused about what to do with all of this.”
I leaned forward. I had never heard her so serious but also so vague. It was a weird combo for her. “All of what, honey?”
Her chin trembled, she bit her lip, and with the smallest voice I ever heard she said, “My feelings for Fraoch.”
“Oh, honey.”
She wailed, “I know.”
I glanced at Magnus. He was holding a serious look on his face but I suspected he was enjoying this all immensely.
She said, “It doesn’t make sense. I know it. He’s awful. I mean, not at all, he’s so kind and sweet and...”
I said, “Fraoch?” I looked from Hayley to Magnus. “Fraoch MacDonald?”
She continued. “I mean, he’s not my type, at all. He’s like... You know how Michael was like a puppy, I just had to train him? Keep him fed and tell him what to do? Fraoch is like a half-wolf-dog, one of those big gentle-giant dogs. The ones that sit beside you and are furry and...” She looked at me so sadly.
I said, “I honestly have no idea — can we start over? This is Fraoch you’re talking about? Tell me what happened.”
“I got there and he rescued me.”
“From what, like a — what?”
“Like the whole century, he put me on a horse and took me to his man cave and...”
“Not to Madame Greer’s house or the castle?”
“He didn’t know where to take me. My existence in that time was nothing but trouble. He fed me rabbit. He hunted wild animals to feed me, and we sat around the fire and waited for you to come get me.”
“Where did you sleep? Did you sleep with him, Hayley? Is that what this is?”
“No, I told him that I was married, so he just took care of me, kept wolves from feasting on me. We slept by the fire, and he guarded me all night.”
“Holy shit, okay, go on, how many days was this?”
“Like three or four and then he was worried about me so he went and got Lizbeth. She gave me a dress and took me to the castle.”
“Good.”
“Except, it wasn’t totally. I mean, it was good for me, but then Fraoch was alone in his man cave and it—”
“Why isn’t he at Madame Greer’s?” I turned to Magnus.
Magnus took a swig of beer and chuckled. “She has grown tired of him. She daena like him hulkin’ around inside the house, she told him tae go huntin’ and leave her in peace.”
“Okay, this is all so freaking juicy — so Madame Greer sent him to a man cave and then you come along, gotcha. You tell him you're married so he doesn't tend your rose garden. This is all so interesting.”
I asked, “What happened in the castle, did you have trouble with the Campbell men?”
“Lizbeth sent them away to go hunting.”
“This is a theme, wow, I’m learning something new. I didn’t know that was a way to handle husbands.”
“I am never here long enough for ye tae tire of me.”
“I would never tire of you, my love.”
Hayley said, “Focus on me please. I get it, you’re in love, meanwhile I’ve just ruined my life.”
“Sorry, honey, okay, you’ve gone to the castle, you’re living there and what happens?”
“Fraoch came to see me every day. He would wear this rose scented lotion all over, because I told him that he stunk to high heaven and that he needed to wash all around his balls and ass and—”
Magnus stifled a laugh, but then began outright laughing. I had never heard him laugh so hard while trying not to. “He told me ye said this, but I still canna believe ye said it tae the man.”
“I did, I couldn’t bear it, he stunk, so he washed up, and covered himself in rose scent and trimmed his beard a tiny bit. He slicked back his hair with some kind of grease, and... and... it was so freaking romantic.”
I started laughing too, leaning back on the couch beside Magnus both of us dying of laughter.
Hayley looked at us with a brow raised incredulously. “Finished?”
“I am so sorry, Hayley. I have known you since you were a little girl and you have always had a much, much higher standard for what is romantic than a bath and feminine hygiene products.”
“I know! This is what I’m telling you. I think it’s Stockholm Syndrome or something. I’ve been brainwashed into thinking he’s...”
She pointed at Magnus in mock anger, “Don’t laugh at me, this is all your fault. You come around here in your swishy skirt and your sexy voice and—”
Magnus bit his lips. “My skirt daena swish.”
“Fraoch’s does, have you seen how sexy he is, Katie? In a kilt with his long beard and hair all curled and down and...?”
“God, girl, you have it bad. When he came to see you, what did you talk about? What do you have in common? I mean when Magnus was here he was seeing my world, learning about this century, we had things in common to talk about. What would you talk about that was interesting to you?”
“So much! He had a horse that I could ride, Gatorbelle. We rode every day. We hunted sometimes and we talked about my parents’ divorce and he talked about his mom and dad dying and his brother, and we just talked. After a few weeks I really regretted lying to him about being married, because he was one of my closest friends. He would just listen to whatever I said. He liked me. He thought I was smart, and funny. We told stories and he’s hilarious. And then he came to the castle and when he was with the men he was such a man. All man. It was pretty hot.”
Magnus’s eyes twinkled. “He is verra braw for a MacDonald.”
I chuckled and then sighed, “Oh sweetie, that sounds awful and wonderful all at once. How did you leave it with him?”
“Lizbeth told me that he was wishing he could marry me, that everyone knew it, and that she had seen him praying over it, as if he was worried about sinning because I was married—”
Magnus said, “Tis a verra real worry. He is at odds with God. Twill take its toll on a man tae love another man’s wife.”
She clapped her hands over her mouth. “I lied to him! Who’s the real problem here? Me! And I left him believing he was sinning over me.
Magnus came to get me, finally, it took you two long enough, and then I left. He said some sweet things to me, and I left anyway. And now Lizbeth’s going to find him a wife and...” She dropped her head to her hands and groaned loudly.
I, for lack of something better, said, “This shit sucks.”
“I knew you would know just what to say to make me feel better.”
“I don’t. I don’t even know where to begin. What are you going to do?”
“I can’t stop thinking about him. His smile spreading inside his beard. His booming voice when he’s insulting someone or laughing at their weakness, crowing about his strength.”
My eyes went wide.
She continued, “Did you know, Katie, he’s alone in the whole world? No one really takes care of him? He’s like a mountain man, just needing a woman to gentle him to...”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Hayley, you’re a feminist. You’ve been a feminist since way back. You and Michael built a relationship on absolute equality. You even had separate houses.”
“Is it wrong to want to take care of someone?”
“Jeez Louise.” I stared off into space. “No, it’s not wrong. I mean, the stuff you’re saying, some of it really worries me, but it’s also true if you love him. And you sound like you love him. The truth is, I married Magnus barely having spent time with him at all.” I shook my head. “Is that what you want to do, marry him?”
“Marry Fraoch? God no, never, not at all, no way.... what would that entail? I mean, that’s what I can’t figure out, can I marry him? Should I?”
I laughed, “I think you just gave me whiplash with that bit of logic. I don’t know, did he ask you?”
“No, remember, it’s a sin.”
“Do you think he wanted to?”
“I don’t know...”
Magnus said, “Och aye, he wanted tae. He wanted tae live with Hayley at the edge of the loch and hunt and fish with her every day and...”
“Did he tell you this?”
“Nae, but all the men kent it of him, he was plain in his intentions.”
Hayley took in a deep breath. “Katie, what am I going to do? He’s all alone there but he’s scared to come here. He doesn’t want to time travel again — he hates it. Could I...?”
Again My Love (Kaitlyn and the Highlander Book 9) Page 16