Daily Lines, Posted February 5, 2019
By mid-afternoon, Iâd made great progress with my medicaments, treated three cases of poison ivy rash, a dislocated toe (caused by kicking a mule in a fit of temper), and a raccoon bite (non-rabid; the hunter had knocked the coon out of a tree and went to pick it up, only to discover that it wasnât dead. It was mad, but not in any infectious sense.).
Jamie, though, had done much better. People had come up to the house-site all day, in a steady trickle of neighborliness and curiosity. The women had stayed to chat with me about the MacKenzies and the men had wandered off through the house-site with Jamie, returning with promises to come and lend a dayâs labor here and there.
âIf Roger Mac and Ian can help me move lumber tomorrow, the Leslies will come next day and give me a hand wiâ the floor joists. Weâll lay the hearth-stone and bless it on Wednesday, Sean McHugh and a couple of his lads will lay the floor with me on Friday, and weâll get the framing started next day; Tom MacLeod says he can spare me a half-day, and Hiram Crombieâs son Joe says he and his half-brother can help wiâ that as well.â He smiled at me. âIf the whisky holds out, yeâll have a roof over your head in two weeks, Sassenach.â
I looked dubiously from the stone foundation to the cloud-flecked sky overhead.
âAye, well, a sheet of canvas, most likely,â he admitted. âStill.â He stood and stretched, grimacing slightly.
âWhy donât you sit down for a bit?â I suggested, eyeing his leg. He was limping noticeably and the leg was a vivid patchwork of red and purple, demarcated by the black stitches of my repair job. âAmyâs left us a jug of beer.â
âPerhaps a wee bit later,â he said. âWhatâs that yeâre making, Sassenach?â
âIâm going to make up some gall berry ointment for Lizzie Beardsley, and then some gripe-water for her little new oneâdo you know if he has a name yet?â
âHubertus,â he repeated, smiling. âOr so Kezzie told me, the day before yesterday. Itâs in compliment to Monikaâs late brother, he says.â
âOh.â Lizzieâs father, Joseph Wemyss, had taken a kind German lady of a certain age as his second wife, and Monika, having no children of her own, had become a stalwart grandmother to the Beardsleysâ growing brood. âPerhaps they can call him Bertie, for short.â
âAre ye out of the Jesuit Bark, Sassenach?â He lifted his chin in the direction of the open medicine chest Iâd set on the ground near him. âDo ye not use that for Lizzieâs tonic?â
âI do,â I said, rather surprised that heâd noticed. âI used the last of it three weeks ago, though, and havenât heard of anyone going to Wilmington or New Bern who might get me more.â
âDid ye mention it to Roger Mac?â
âNo. Why him?â I asked, puzzled.
Jamie leaned back against the cornerstone, wearing one of those overtly patient expressions thatâs meant to indicate that the person addressed is not particularly bright. I snorted and flicked a gallberry at him. He caught it and examined it critically.
âAmy says bees like the flowers,â I said dubiously, pouring a large handful of the dark purple berries into my mortar. âBut thereâs very likely a reason why theyâre called gall berries.â
âAh.â He tossed it back at me, and I dodged. âYe told me yourself, Sassenach, that Roger Mac said to ye yesterday that he meant to come back to the ministering. So,â he went on patiently, seeing no hint of enlightenment on my face, âwhat would ye do first, if that was your aim?â
I scooped a large glob of pale yellow bear grease from its pot into the mortar, part of my mind debating whether to add a decoction of willow bark, while the rest considered Jamieâs question.
âAh,â I said in turn, and pointed my pestle at him. âIâd go round to all the people whoâd been part of my congregation, so to speak, and let them know that Mack the Knife is back in town.â
He gave me a concerned look, but then shook his head, dislodging whatever image Iâd just given him.
âYe would,â he said. âAnd maybe introduce yourself to the folk whoâve come to the Ridge since ye left.â
âAnd within a couple of days, everyone on the Ridgeâand probably half the brethrenâs choir in Salemâwould know about it.â
He nodded amiably. âAye. And theyâd all ken that ye need Jesuit bark, and yeâd likely get it within the month.â
- Copyright 2019 Diana Gabaldon
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