A moan from Tibbie brought her back to earth. She wondered how many other members of the family were lying awake listening to sounds that were never meant to be shared with more than one other person….
Christmas in Eskaig was almost lost in a howling blizzard that swept in from the mountains. Not until evening was it possible for Wyatt to clear a way to the church, assisted by a grumbling but hard-working Alasdair Burns.
The Christmas service was held in a candle-lit church and attended only by those few Eskaig residents who had been able to dig a way from their houses. After the service they stood around in the church porch, seemingly reluctant to leave the shelter afforded by the building. All agreed it was the worst winter weather in living memory.
Then, early in January, an unexpected warm spell of weather brought about a partial thaw – on the loch’s edge, at least. People emerged from their houses to take advantage of the break in the winter weather and repair some of the ravages of winter storms.
Evangeline rode to Eskaig from Corpach, and classes were held in the school for the first time in many weeks. The factor’s daughter was pale-faced and looked very tired when she and Alasdair came to the manse for a midday meal. When they were all seated at the table, Wyatt asked her if she was feeling ill.
Evangeline shook her head. ‘No, but Mother has become a worry. She’s more confused than ever. She really needs to have someone with her for every hour of the day and night. When the weather improves I’ll take her to Edinburgh again. There’s a doctor there who has helped her in the past.’
‘Couldn’t you take advantage of the good weather and take her now?’
‘I can’t leave the house with only the servants there. Father went to Edinburgh himself yesterday. He boarded a boat at Fort William.’
Wyatt wondered what business the factor had in Edinburgh, but he said: ‘Couldn’t he have taken your mother with him?’
‘He hasn’t taken her anywhere for at least ten years. If he had, she might never have become as she is now. I spoke to him about her, but he said his business was too important to be wasted on matters that could very well wait.’
There was a deep bitterness in Evangeline’s voice, and Alasdair Burns looked sympathetically in her direction. ‘If there’s anything I can do, you have only to ask.’
Evangeline reached out and rested her hand on the teacher’s arm. ‘Thank you, Alasdair. Just being able to tell you my troubles this morning has helped.’
Evangeline toyed with her knife for a few moments before saying: ‘Actually, I think my father is up to something. He’s spent hours in his office, studying the maps of the Eskaig estates produced by Charles Graham’s surveyors. He’s been writing many letters and notes and goes to Fort William whenever weather permits. Once the Fort William magistrate came to the house, and he and my father spent the whole day in the office together.’
‘Maps and magistrates…? It sounds to me like the recipe for a clearance. ’ The comment came from Alasdair Burns.
Wyatt lowered his spoon to the unfinished meal. Food had suddenly lost all taste for him. ‘It should surprise no one. The factor has never made any secret of his thinking. He’s always saying it’s sheep and not tenants that make profits for an estate.’
Wyatt stood up from the table. Walking to the window, he gazed up at the high mountains. The thaw was beginning to touch them, too. Here and there a dark outcrop of rock protruded from the white snow.
‘If the weather holds, I’m going up into the mountains tomorrow.’
‘Be careful. The mountains are dangerous after a thaw,’ warned Alasdair Burns.
‘I’ll be careful.’
Wyatt thought of the first occasion when he had been in the mountains. Of Mairi, the rescue of the Munro children – and the disapproval of some of the villagers when he brought Mairi back to the manse dressed only in his coat. The thought made him smile.
‘If there’s another change in the weather, you might be marooned in the mountains for weeks – months, even. Perhaps you might even return to us as a married man! Can a minister conduct his own wedding?’
There was an exchange of glances between the two teachers.
‘It’s another married couple I’m particularly concerned about. Donnie and Seonaid Ross weren’t wed long enough to plan for a winter such as this.’
Evangeline’s face stiffened at the mention of Seonaid, but Alasdair Burns did not notice. ‘No doubt you’ll be looking in upon the Ross croft, too? Just to make sure they’re surviving the winter?’ he asked.
Wyatt looked up at the mountains again before replying: ‘Of course. It’s on the way to the Fraser cot, after all.’
Eneas Ross and his family did not waste the unexpected break in the harsh winter weather. Able to leave the house for the first time in weeks, they turned the animals out of the house and cleaned up after them. Doors and windows stood open, washing was draped over a freestone wall to dry, and Eneas Ross’s many sons were scouring the still-deep snows of the high area, searching for sheep.
When the animals were located in their body-width caverns they were hauled out unceremoniously. Carried to a patch of land, their diligent nuzzling uncovered winter grass that was promptly grazed to its roots.
Sound travelled far in the clear air of the mountains, and Wyatt was still half a mile from the Ross croft when one of the sons saw him. Shielding his eyes, the young Ross identified the unexpected visitor, and his voice carried clearly as he called to the croft.
‘Mairi! You’ve just time to put on your best gown. The preacher from Eskaig’s coming calling.’
A moment later Mairi’s face appeared at the window, her long hair loose about her face. Even from this distance Wyatt could distinguish the smudges on her face. She was working as hard as any other member of the Ross family.
Wyatt raised his hand to wave to her, but she disappeared from view before his hand reached shoulder height. The greeting was returned by the brother who had first seen him.
Mairi had not reappeared by the time Wyatt reached the croft, but the remainder of the family were gathered outside to welcome him – and Wyatt’s appearance was the subject of immediate concern. The sun was quite warm up here in the mountains, and the snow had been reduced to a depth of no more than two or three feet in most places. However, where the path ran through a shaded place the snow still lay man-high. Wyatt had also been forced to wade through some of the many mountain streams which tumbled from the peaks. As a result his clothing was sodden and it was as much as he could do to stop shivering.
Magdalene Ross tut-tutted about him, while Eneas Ross suggested a practical solution.
‘You’d better get out of those clothes, Preacher, before you catch your death of cold. Come into the house by the fire. I’ve a shirt that will fit you well enough. Ian, you’re about the same size as the preacher. Let him have those new trousers you bought for your wedding. Malcolm, you have the best pair of shoes in the house – bring them quickly. All you women can leave the house – and don’t come back until you’re told. I’ll be pouring you a wee dram, Preacher. What are you doing coming up here in the middle of winter? I doubt if there’s ever been a preacher here in January before.’
Wyatt passed Mairi in the doorway. Clean-faced, her hair was tied neatly at the nape of her neck, and she wore a clean dress. She smiled at him, and in that moment the long and arduous climb to the high lands became worthwhile.
As he changed from his wet clothes, Wyatt spoke to Eneas Ross. ‘I came up here because I’ve been worried about the effect the bad weather might have had on you.’
‘We’ve had bad winters before. Not for such a long spell at one time, perhaps, but I’ve lived up here far too long to let any weather take me by surprise.’
‘I’m worried about the Frasers, too. Donnie hasn’t been there long enough to have things properly organised, and Hamish Fraser wouldn’t have been able to prepare for winter.’
Eneas Ross’s face showed concern for a brief unguarded moment
. Then his expression hardened. ‘Fraser has managed well enough all these years. I don’t doubt he’ll be better off this year.’
Wyatt put on the last of the borrowed clothing, and Eneas Ross called the women back inside the house. As they returned, Wyatt said: ‘You’re probably right about the Frasers, Eneas. All the same, I’ll go on to see them as soon as my clothes are dry and I’ve a dram or two of your whisky inside to warm me on my way.’
‘Please yourself, but you’ll not visit Fraser and get back to Eskaig tonight. Return here and stay with us. There’s so many of us already that one more will make no difference, and I fancy you’ll have better company than you’ll find there.’
Wyatt hesitated for only a moment. ‘I’d like that. Thank you. Now, where’s that whisky? I’m chilled through to the bone.’
While Eneas Ross half-filled a pewter mug with whisky and Magdalene began cooking dough bannocks on a barred ‘girdle-iron’ set on the fire, Mairi began arranging Wyatt’s clothes, placing them so close to the fire that very soon steam began rising from them, drifting upwards until it was lost among the smoke-blackened beams. She had heard Wyatt give notice of his plans, and the thought of having him sleeping beneath the same roof excited her more than she would allow the others to see. It meant poor Tibbie and Ian would lose the scant privacy of their box bed for the night, but they would survive.
‘Did I hear you say you were going to see Donnie and Seonaid?’ They were the first words she had spoken to Wyatt since his arrival.
‘Yes. They’re the first couple I’ve wed since coming to Eskaig, and I’m taking a personal interest in them. I want to assure myself they’re all right.’
‘I’ll come with you….’ Seeing the knowing smiles of her brothers, Mairi added heatedly: ‘I’ve been forced to stay inside the cot with this lot for weeks. It will feel good to get away from them all for a couple of hours.’
‘You could always take a walk to see if there are any sheep beneath the ridge. That way you’d be free of everyone. Wouldn’t you prefer that, little sister?’ a young Ross suggested.
‘I’ll go where I want to go. Right now I’ve had enough of foolish brothers. Your clothes will be dry in about half an hour, Wyatt. I’ll be outside enjoying the sunshine.’
Mairi left the cot to a chorus of good-natured catcalls from her brothers. When she had gone, Tibbie crossed to the fire and adjusted Wyatt’s wet clothing unnecessarily.
While she was close to Wyatt, she said softly: ‘Mairi’s very fond of you, Minister.’
‘I’m very fond of her, too, Tibbie.’
Tibbie’s warm smile transformed her pale and tired face. ‘I’m glad. I was beginning to think Mairi would never find someone like you. She’s a very special girl, Minister. She’s worked hard on the schooling you gave her. You’ll not find a better wife in the Highlands – or anywhere else.’
Thirty-two
‘Aren’t your feet cold?’ Wyatt looked aghast at Mairi’s bare feet as he set out with her for the Fraser cot.
Mairi seemed surprised at the question. ‘A little. But they’d be just as cold if I were working outside the cot.’ She shifted the bundle she carried to a more comfortable position. ‘I’ll be able to dry my feet when we get there. What will you do about your shoes?’
Wyatt had his own clothes on again. The coat, shirt and trousers were dry, but his shoes were still wet and uncomfortable. He had to admit that Mairi had made a good point.
They were both carrying bags of food for Donnie and Seonaid and her father. Eneas Ross might have disowned his youngest son, but Magdalene Ross had not. Cheese, butter and newly baked bannocks were in the bags, together with salted beef, and a quarter of a sheep that had been found injured beneath the snow.
‘I’ve missed you, Mairi. There have been many moonlit nights when I’ve looked up at the snow on the mountains and prayed you were safe and well up here.’
‘We were snug enough to have seen out another month of snow. I don’t know whether it was due to your praying, or to Pa’s sound planning! ’ There was the faintest trace of humour in the sidelong glance Mairi gave him.
All conversation ceased for some fifteen minutes while they scrambled up a steepish slope of broken rock in order to avoid a low-lying area where snow had drifted. On the far side of the ridge was an area of broken rocks which gave some shelter from the wind. Here Mairi dropped her bundle to the ground. Standing with her back to a large boulder, she rubbed the shoulder which had borne the weight of her load and watched as Wyatt flexed aching arms.
‘You’ve lost weight, Wyatt. You haven’t been ill with that fever you told me about?’
‘I wasn’t too well for a few days after Christmas, but it wasn’t as bad as the last time. Each attack seems to be less serious than the one before.’
‘Poor Wyatt. You really should have someone to look after you.’
‘I agree….’ Wyatt took a deep breath. ‘Have you thought any more about the discussion we had after Donnie and Seonaid’s wedding?’
‘What more was there to think about? I told you then what I thought. Look at me, Wyatt. What sort of wife do you think I’d make for the minister of Eskaig?’
‘The sort of wife I want – and I’ll not settle for any other.’
When Mairi did not reply immediately, Wyatt added: ‘Anyway, I may not be the minister of Eskaig for very much longer.’
Startled, Mairi asked: ‘You’re not thinking of leaving?’
‘I may have to.’ He gave Mairi an outline of the dispute between Church and State, and the widening breach within the Church itself.
‘What will happen to you? What will you do?’
‘It all depends on the people here. If they agree with what I’m doing, I’ll stay on as a Free Church minister. If they don’t….’ Wyatt shrugged. ‘If they don’t, then I’ll know I was a better soldier than I am a minister. ’
Mairi was very upset, but before she could say anything more they both heard a sound from the ridge they had crossed a short time before. Moments later they were joined by Stewart Ross, the second-youngest of Mairi’s brothers.
‘Hello, you two. I thought you’d have reached the Fraser place by now. What’s held you up?’ He turned a cheeky grin upon Wyatt. ‘Not interrupting anything, am I?’
Mairi did not respond to his cheerfulness. ‘Wyatt was just telling me he might have to leave Eskaig. There’s a dispute within the Church. But what are you doing here?’
Stewart Ross lifted Mairi’s bundle with ease and tucked it beneath an arm. ‘I thought Donnie might need a hand to get things together up at the Fraser place. There’ll be more snow on the way in a day or two, and old man Fraser won’t be much help.’
‘Does Pa know where you are?’
‘No, but Ma thought it would be a good idea. Shall we go?’
Wyatt would have liked to speak at much greater length to Mairi, but neither of them could have anticipated the unexpected interruption. Lifting his own bundle, he set it on his shoulder and followed Stewart Ross. Along the way he had to repeat his story of the problems of the Church of Scotland for the benefit of Mairi’s brother.
Stewart Ross was more philosophic than sympathetic.
‘It sounds a bit like a family argument to me. You ministers should be ganging up against the English government, not quarrelling among yourselves.’
The young man spoke in the manner of many Highlanders, as though there had never been union with England.
‘I agree,’ said Wyatt. ‘Although first we need to decide who’s right and who’s wrong. The trouble seems to be the more we talk the wider grows the rift between us.’
‘I doubt if not talking will help, either. Take Pa and Hamish Fraser, for instance. They haven’t spoken for nigh on thirty years, yet they hate each other as much as they ever did….’
For the remainder of the journey to the Fraser cot Stewart Ross chatted on about the feud between Eneas Ross and Hamish Fraser, its causes and effects. If he noticed there was no response fro
m Wyatt and Mairi, he did not let it silence him.
When the roof of the Fraser cot came into sight, protruding from the snow of the high moors, it was apparent something was wrong. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. The three travellers looked at each other in alarm, not daring to voice their thoughts. Then they began to run. Only when they topped a low rise immediately before the house did they slow their pace. Donnie and Hamish Fraser were hauling a wooden sled piled high with peat turfs towards the house.
When Donnie caught sight of the approaching visitors he released the sled-rope, let out a shout of joy and ran to meet them. After hugging Mairi and Stewart, he shook hands with Wyatt and beamed at all three.
‘You don’t know how good it is to see you. All of you. I’ve longed to hear someone talk the way we always did during the winter months at home. What wouldn’t I have given to hear Pa telling us about his army days, with Ma smiling knowingly when he stretched the truth a bit more than usual. Have you done that these last weeks?’
‘Of course, but Mairi spent every spare minute of the day stuck in a corner with her learning-books … and we missed you,’ said Stewart Ross.
‘We were worried because we couldn’t see any smoke when we came in sight of the cot. Where’s Seonaid?’ asked Mairi.
‘Lying abed. She’s been ill. I don’t know what it was. Something to do with the baby, I think. Belly cramps and a bit of a fever for a while. She’s a lot better now. She was up for a while this morning.’
‘What about the fire?’
Donnie looked embarrassed. ‘I hadn’t got around to everything before winter set in. There wasn’t enough peat up by the house. The fire went out three days ago.’
‘What have you eaten in those three days?’ Mairi put the question.
‘Same as we seem to have eaten for most of the winter. Cheese. I tried making bannocks before the fire went out, but they dropped in the ashes and burned while I was tending Seonaid.’
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