In a later book Jamie & Claire find an orphaned baby, & discuss if Claire wanted/wants another child, whether she's still fertile, & she says she let nature take its course when she returned to Jamie etc. but it didn't happen. What if it had? Claire & Jamie become exhausted older parents - she's well into her 40s in the 18thC @ Frasers Ridge. How do they cope with young babies? What would Bree think as a 20-something arriving to find a baby sibling or two & she's also pregnant?
abreathofsnowandashes said: Hello Lennykins! A bit of a random question but do you think you’ll write anymore of that story you did where Claire and Jamie keep the Beardsley baby? Your initial piece was divine!
svoba asked: I don´t know if there was or is a similar request for it, but … what if Claire and Jamie DECIDED FOR A NEW BABY after they settled in Fraser Ridge (conversation about her sterilization or when Jamie asked her is she wants the baby-girl)? Before/after Bree come through the stones?
Anonymous asked:Imagine Claire having another baby after coming back or explore her raising the orphan she almost kept in the books and the influence of this on Brianna.
There have been quite a few calls over the years to continue my Beardsley Baby fic and now that we’ve at last reached the point of seeing that plotline brought to the screen, I’ve finally written a second chapter (not sure how many more there might be; we’ll see how next week’s episode affects the inspiration).
Roger had clearly told Brianna about why they had been held up in Brownsville, but perhaps it took seeing them with Julia for her to truly believe him.
“And her mother just… left her? In the snow?” Brianna asked, horrified and clutching Jemmy closer to her chest.
For his part, Jemmy was curious about the small, wrapped bundle occupying what he saw as his place in his grandda’s arms. He reached out and managed to get a fistful of the baby’s blankets before Claire successfully extricated his hand and distracted him by kissing it and then pretending to nibble his knuckles. Jemmy’s giggling soon shifted to squealing and Julia’s face contorted into a cry.
“She purposely left her nearby so we would hear her and find her,” Claire told brianna as she kept her attention on Jemmy while Jamie tended to Julia. “But, yes, she just left. I only hope she didn’t suffer any complications later.”
“I’m not entirely sure she wouldn’t deserve it if she did,” Brianna muttered under her breath.
Jamie made a low grunt of agreement as she loosened Julia’s swaddling blankets and brought her to his shoulder. His large hand rubbed small circles into her tiny back. The days in the saddle, held tight to his chest and stomach against the cold had gotten her used to the smell of him, the sound of his heart beating in her ear, the comfort of his warmth. She settled quickly for him and Claire glimpsed the contented smile that flickered across his face. From Brianna’s frown, Claire suspected their daughter had noticed it too.
“So you’re going to take her in,” Brianna remarked. “That’s good of you. At least you’ve room with the two of you for now. By the time she outgrows it and needs a room of her own, maybe you’ll have more of your house to yourselves again. I, for one, can’t wait to have the cabin back for just Roger, Jem, and I.” She looked over to where Mrs. Bug was busy scolding various children and lecturing their mothers about how they ought to be the ones scolding the children in question.
The space did feel that much more crowded after having spent a few weeks camping in the open air (thought the warmth so many bodies generated wasn’t entirely unwelcome at the moment).
“Thank ye, a leannan, for all ye’ve managed while we were away,” Jamie said, using one hand to keep Julia in place and the other to give Brianna’s shoulder and appreciative squeeze. “That there wasna bloodshed is a minor miracle.”
“I’ll tell you about the geese later,” Brianna replied with a sly smile. She became more relaxed as Claire took Jemmy from her arms.
“How is it you seem to have grown so much in less than a month?” Claire addressed him, earning more giggles.
“He’ll be crawling and walking and getting into everything soon,” Brianna said, resigned. “Time to start baby-proofing everything so he doesn’t fall into the hearth when we’re not looking.”
“She’ll be right behind him in the blink of an eye,” Claire said.
“More like siblings than niece and nephew,” Roger remarked, then shook his head. “Uncle and — no, aunt and nephew?”
“That’s it, I guess,” Brianna said with a bit of obvious discomfort at the thought.
“I’ll go put the wee lass down,” Jamie announced. “A basket will do for now but I’ll have a cradle for her in a day or two. D’ye like the sound of that, Julia? A warm place to lay yer head,” he crooned, shuffling off toward their bedroom with Claire and the others watching him go.
“He’s taken to the wean and no mistake,” Roger said quietly.
“Pretty quick, too.” Brianna reached to take Jemmy back from her mother.
“Do I detect a hint of jealousy?” Claire teased. “I seem to recall you requesting a baby sister on several occasions. I believe there was even a letter to Santa about it once.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, when I was five or six. And I’m not jealous. I’m a grown woman and married with a kid of my own.”
The kid in question began squirming and squealing loudly so that Roger took him and began floating him around the room making airplane noises.
“It wouldn’t be unheard of for you to be a little jealous,” Claire told Brianna, keeping her voice low. “Even if you are an adult with a child of your own. Emotions don’t exactly follow logic. In fact, I believe they often fly in the face of logic.”
“It’s… strange, is all. To see you and Da with a baby that isn’t one of the grandkids. To think of you starting over at your age,” Brianna admitted.
“I don’t know that it’s really starting over when you never did it the first time,” Claire said with quiet sadness.
“I mean… you did the baby thing with me,” Brianna pressed, “and Da… He’s been around babies before.”
“Never had the chance to raise a child of his own,” Claire reminded her daughter. “And it isn’t something he and I have done together, much as we once hoped to. I think… maybe that’s why we decided to take her. That and the fact that we wouldn’t trust the Browns as far as we could throw them after the display we witnessed upon our arrival,” she tried to lighten the mood. “All those little things you learn and share when you’re raising a child together… we never had that.”
“Like how the other person sounds when they’re dead tired and just want the baby to go to sleep so they make exhausted funny voices and sing ridiculous made-up songs,” Brianna recalled with a sigh. “Or when you’re about to get up and they gently push you back down to bed and get the baby for you.”
Claire smiled. “Exactly. The way they look at the baby when they don’t know you’re looking. Or the relief you feel when they lay out the punishment you didn’t have the heart to inflict.”
“Of course, there are also all the little infuriating things,” Brianna added. “Like when he says ‘yes’ after you’ve told them ‘no’ a thousand times.”
“Hmmm, Frank used to do that with you a lot,” Claire reminisced. “Drove me mad. It’s how you ended up with a car at sixteen.”
Brianna smiled. “I remember. I knew exactly which one of you to go to whenever I wanted something.”
“Mmmmhmmm, and someday soon, that’ll be Jemmy playing you and Roger off one another. And you won’t have a television you can stop him watching as punishment. Or records to take away, or—”
“I get it, Mama,” Brianna sighed. “And I’m sorry I played you and Daddy off one another… And I’m glad you’ll get to do all that with Da and this new baby.”
“Thank you, darling.” Claire hugged Brianna and cupped the back of her head momentarily. “You know you’ll always be my baby, right?”
The first hunting trips Jamie made with Brianna, he was careful about asking her questions that would put her in mind of the time and life she’d left behind. He wanted her to feel she could speak freely with him but he also didn’t quite know how to build her trust in him. He didn’t want her to be upset about the decisions that had led her to a life in a different century from all she’d known.
So, it was sometime after Jemmy was born and was old enough for her to leave him overnight for a day or two before Jamie really began to let her see his curiosity. She laughed as she explained modern mechanics and technologies in a way that was beyond Claire’s abilities (if it wasn’t medical, she had mostly just cared whether or not it worked rather than how). But Brianna had a true appreciation for the engineering of twentieth century innovations and she had inherited Jamie’s ability to tell a story.
It was midwinter and they were out checking their snare lines, muskets ready should they encounter deer or any other large animal but for the most part, the forest was quiet and calm — a sure sign a storm was due soon, so they moved quickly.
Jamie told Brianna the story of how he’d thrown his back out while off on his own that first winter he and Claire had been on the Ridge. How he might have died if Claire hadn’t stubbornly gone looking for him and miraculously found him in time to build a temporary shelter.
“There was naught to do but wait out the storm,” he explained. “I tried to get her to go back to the cabin and come for me when it was through, but she wouldna go.”
Brianna chuckled. “You know, she always talks about how stubborn the Frasers are but she’s just as bad as any of us and she’s only a Fraser by marriage.”
“Aye,” Jamie smiled. “She was born to be a Fraser then.”
“And how long were you there before your back was better and the storm cleared?”
“No more’n a night and into the next morning. It was too loud and cold for sleeping — wouldna let us sleep. Too afraid if we did we wouldna be waking again.”
“Hypothermia,” Brianna nodded. “It’s what she always said I’d die of when I wanted to go play outside in the snow without a hat.”
“Tha’s the one.”
Brianna frowned. “So how’d you two keep yourselves awake so long?... Or do I not want to know?” she added when she realized what she might do with Roger in a similar situation. Her face reddened and she noticed that Jamie’s was a little pink too, and not just from the cold.
“As a matter of fact, she told me a story. Said it was one she and Frank would tell you near Christmas. ‘Bout a nasty old man who had more money than friends and was visited by spirits in the night.”
“A Christmas Carol,” Brianna confirmed, smiling sadly. “Yeah, she and Daddy read it to me every year till they had it pretty much memorized.”
“It certainly wasna her words tellin’ the story, except for a few parts she couldna recall quite right. Willna be written for half a century yet, she said.”
“That’s one of the things I miss — the books. There are so many books that haven’t been written yet that you’d love,” Brianna told him, thinking about the small but growing library he had back at the house.
“There arena many things from the future you and yer mam tell me of that I would care to see… but those… I dinna think I should mind readin’ the books so much,” he agreed.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” Brianna began, reciting from memory as much as she could before delving into the story itself—pausing to explain the historical events that made up the backdrop, though they were decades away from their present.
From that point, when they would go hunting — after they successfully stalked and made their kills — Brianna would recount what she could of different novels she’d read. The books read (and analyzed) in school were the ones she remembered best, though she knew she was making a horrible mess of the prose itself in most cases. The practice made the work of skinning and butchering go faster and was a way of remembering her own past that didn’t hurt as much as other memories.
It was something between just the two of them — she saved the stories for when they were on their own. After Brianna and Roger went through the circle on Okrakoke with the children, Jamie still said nothing of their custom to Claire.
The first time Jamie and Brianna went hunting again after the Mackenzies’ joyous return to the Ridge, Jem joined them. He’d grown significantly in the few years they’d been gone — and had endured more than he should have.
The three of them fell into an easy silence, broken only when Jamie or Brianna had a quiet word of advice for Jem — raise the barrel a little higher, open that eye, squeeze when ye breathe out.
Soon, they had several large turkeys strung together by their feet and they’d chanced upon a wild boar that Jamie had taken quickly with a single shot.
The birds could wait till they reached the Ridge — needed to for plucking as there was too great a need for the feathers. The boar, however, needed a degree of butchering in order for them to comfortably carry the meat — at least half for salting and smoking and the rest for the following day’s dinner.
“There once was an old man taking a train to the coast,” Brianna began when Jamie took his knife out and Jem began to pale. Jem turned his attention to his mother while Jamie slit the very-recently-dead animal’s throat. “He’d been invited to an island by a friend of a friend. There were others on that train, all invited to the same island — some for employment, like the young woman, Vera Claythorne, who’d been a tutor or nanny but was now going to be a secretary,” Brianna continued.
Jamie strung the board up from a nearby branch to let gravity help drain the carcass as he used his knife to slice the beast’s hide. Jem chimed in, “I think she was a governess, Mam.”
“Ye ken this story then?” Jamie asked.
Jem smiled as he turned to his grandfather, no longer looking pale or queasy.
“Aye,” Jem said. “It’s one of Mam’s favorites. She had a copy on the shelf she said came from her old house in Boston. Ye’ll never guess who the murderer is,” he grinned.
“Murderer? What sort of book is it?”
“Murder mysteries are going to be very popular someday,” Brianna informed him with a smile, “and this one is one of the best and it’s by one of the best — Agatha Christie.”
“A woman writin’ of murderers,” Jamie muttered shaking his head with disbelief.
“Yes, now keep quiet and let me get back to it. There are ten characters at the start and I have to make sure I don’t skip any of them,” Brianna scolded. “Let’s see, I’ve mentioned the old judge, Wargrave, and Vera the governess turned secretary. Then there’s the doctor, Armstrong—”
“He’s a surgeon like Grannie, but no as good,” Jem declared.
“And then there’s—”
“And then there were none!” Jem interrupted, laughing at his joke.
Jamie looked to Brianna, brow furrowed in confusion.
“If you’re going to interrupt the story when I’ve barely started, we’re not going to bring you with us anymore,” Brianna warned.
Jem pressed his lips together and made a motion, drawing his fingers across his lips.
“Good. So, Wargrave, Vera, Armstrong…” she resumed, listing off characters and tapping her fingers as she did so.
Jamie settled into the work of removing the meat from the boar’s carcass, smiling as he listened to Brianna recount the story with help from Jem.
Imagine Willie (not the jackass we see in the books) calling Jamie “Da” and Claire overhearing it
Homecoming - Part Thirteen
Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve
**********************************************
Claire finished the row and spread the stitches on the needle to gauge her progress. They were looser than they should be and something didn’t look right…
She cursed quietly to herself and threw the knitting to the floor. She had dropped a stitch and it had run. Her options were to try and fix it by going up the column of dropped stitches or to pull it all out and start fresh. Given that it had only reached about three inches in length, it would probably be easier to start the scarf over from scratch. With a frustrated sigh, she leaned down from her chair to retrieve the tangled mess of wool.
The door creaked open and Claire peered around to see Jamie entering their bedroom as quietly as he could.
“I thought ye’d be asleep by now, Sassenach,” he whispered, bending to kiss the top of her head and eaming the knitting in her lap. “What have ye done to it?” he asked, sympathy and amusement evident in his tone and smile.
“I think you can see what I did without my telling you,” she snipped at him. Taking the balled yarn in one hand, she began wrapping the loose end around and around, watching the sloppy stitches of her work slip out of each other’s grasp. Reversing the process was far faster than creating it in the first place. She would set it aside for now and begin afresh in the morning when her mind — and fingers — were rested and flexible.
“I still cannae believe Bree told him we exchange gifts at Christmas,” Jamie murmured, shaking his head and crouching by the hearth to put another log on the fire.
“The children have come to expect it having been in the 20th century for so long,” Claire reminded him. “Mandy never spent a Christmas here on the Ridge so she truly doesn’t know anything else.”
“Aye, but ye could make William somethin’ else. There’s plenty ye could concoct in yer surgery that he’d appreciate. He’ll no be used to such a hard winter as he’ll see here on the Ridge. A balm or something for when his hands and nose are chapped wi’ cold.”
“And what are you making him?” Claire turned the tables as a challenge. “Don’t think I don’t see you whittling away at a new chess set. There’s only the two of you and Ian that play and you already have a perfectly fine set. I’m making him a scarf and I’m knitting it both because I need the practice and because he’ll know and appreciate the effort that went into it.”
“Do ye no worry that he’ll be put in an awkward spot wi’ our gifts to him?” Claire could hear the doubt in Jamie’s voice. “I ken Bree gave him warning but I cannae think he’ll have luck wi’ making ready gifts for the rest of us. I… I wouldna want him to feel he had to do something in turn.”
“I think he knows by now that we don’t keep score with such things,” Claire asserted. “And we don’t have to put him on the spot when the children are given their gifts. We’ll find a time that’s right.”
Looking resigned more than confident, Jamie nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He bent and twisted a moment before the fire, the popping of his joints mingling with the crackling of the burning logs.
“Come to bed, Sassenach?” he requested, reaching a hand out to help Claire from her seat.
She took it, yawning as she stood. Jamie tucked her against his chest for a moment, letting his chin rest atop her head. She felt the tension leaving him — and leaving her as well. The worries and uncertainties of the day dissolved in the night as they went to bed and found reassurance and comfort in each other.
**********************************************
Christmas morning arrived and, as Claire had warned Jamie, Mandy and Jem were in an excited frenzy with Germain catching some of the excitement. It was just the Mackenzies and William at the big house with Claire, Jamie, and Germain. Fanny had gone to stay with the Murrays to serve as an extra set of hands about the kitchen or with the babies. For most of the folks on the Ridge, Christmas was treated as just another day.
Brianna and Roger insisted the children help with breakfast and the chores before there would be even a discussion of gifts. William watched just behind where Claire stood as the three small bodies dashed about without complaint but with Roger reminding them that if they went too quickly and mucked things up, they’d find themselves doing everything twice.
“I don’t know as I’ve ever seen them in such a state,” William remarked quietly to Claire as he helped her tidy the kitchen. “Is Christmas really treated so differently in Scotland?”
“Not exactly. It’s more to do with how Bree was raised. She enjoyed celebrating the day that way and it’s something she’s carried on with her children,” Claire explained carefully.
“Family tradition, then. Though I understand from Roger that marking the new year is a wider celebration and that more of the people here on the Ridge participate…?”
“Hogmanay,” Claire smiled wider. “Yes, that’s more what you’d expect the Scots hereabouts to celebrate. We’ll be having a larger party here for that. Christmas is a smaller, practice run, I suppose,” she chuckled.
“But there are no gifts for… Hogmanay?” he hesitated, pronouncing it carefully.
“Nope, no gifts. Just a lot of wonderful company, music, and dancing. Food, of course, and whisky.”
The growing noise outside indicated the children were returning from their chores and would not be deterred much longer, and not without voicing their discontent.
Claire ushered William from the kitchen and into the main room where Roger, Brianna and Jamie had fetched the gifts from hidden places and stood guard waiting for good behavior and everyone’s presence before beginning to distribute them.
William quietly excused himself and hurried up the stairs for a moment, leaving Claire, Jamie, Brianna, and Roger exchanging silent questions back and forth about whether or not they should wait for him to begin. Before the wordless conversation was completed, William’s footsteps could be heard descending the stairs once more.
Mandy scurried to his side before he managed to find himself a seat.
“I want yers first, Uncle William,” she declared loudly. “Please?”
William looked to Brianna and Roger who nodded. He brought his sackcloth bag from behind his back and retrieved a child-sized cloak that had been lined with fur.
Mandy’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O. She bounced with excitement as she reached out to let William help her try it on.
“It’s sae warm,” she purred. “No wonder we’ve had sae much rabbit stew!”
The adults all laughed.
“Your mother helped with the sewing,” William explained with a grateful nod to Brianna. He reached in to his bag again and pulled out matching knives for Jem and Germain. They were only short blades made by the local blacksmith, and would primarily serve for chores as well as hunting and trapping. But the boys were eager to head outside to practice throwing them at the side of the barn.
“Uncle Ian kens how to throw knives,” Jem exclaimed. “He’ll teach us how!”
“Ye’re all stayin’ put till we’re through here and ye’re no goin’ to be disturbin’ Uncle Ian wi’ demands he teach ye anything,” Roger warned. “Ye’ll ask politely and ye’ll offer him help so he’s no losin’ more time than he can afford, aye?”
Jem and Germain promised then looked to see what other gifts were waiting for them (which turned out to mostly be practical and necessary items like new and warmer clothes, securing the knives’ place as their favorite gift of the day). Mandy bounced around the room in her new cloak, brushing the soft rabbit’s fur against her cheek.
William ducked his head to hide the prideful smile the sight brought to him.
Claire slipped along the outer edge of the room till she came up beside him.
“You’re a hit,” she told him quietly, her eyes still on her grandchildren.
“I’m glad there was something I could give. It’s a nice tradition to mark the day and the children certainly enjoy it,” William remarked.
“I’ve a little something for you as well,” Claire said, offering him the neatly folded scarf. It wasn’t as precise as she would have liked, but it was long and above all, warm. “Jamie can tell you, I’m not the best knitter, but if you’re going to be here through the winter, you’ll need some warmer things.”
“Thank you, Mother Claire.” William grinned and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Jamie has something he’s been working on for you as well,” she told him, “but I think he’ll give it to you later, when the children have gone to bed.”
William’s cheeks darkened. “I don’t have anything to actually give either of you,” William explained, self-conscious.
“You don’t have to—”
“No, there is something I want to do for you… that is… From what Brianna and Roger have told me about Hogmanay, there’s a… a role or service I might perform—what did she call it… Frost foot?”
“First foot,” Claire said. “And I think she’s right. You would be a good fit for it. I know it would mean a lot to Jamie.” She spotted him nestled in the doorway to the kitchen and nudged William gently in that direction. “He can explain it better than I can and the children are distracted.”
“Thank you, Mother Claire.” William slipped away from her side and into the kitchen, Jamie following a moment later.
Claire began inching her way closer to the doorway as soon as they disappeared, stopping as soon as she was close enough to hear what they were saying.
“Claire can go wi’ ye if ye’re certain ye dinna mind,” Jamie said as he finished explaining the responsibilities to William.
“I don’t. Since I’m to stay her through the winter, it will be a good way to introduce myself to more of the local residents,” William mused. “And I wanted to thank you… for making me feel welcome here and… allowing me to stay–”
“Ye’ll always have a place here,” Jamie interrupted. “Whether ye want it or no, it’s here for ye.”
“Thank you… Da.”
Claire pressed her lips into a tight line to keep the tears that sprang to her eyes from sliding free. It was a good thing she couldn’t see Jamie or William just then because it would have undone her completely.
She waited until she heard Jamie’s steps leave the kitchen before she made her way around to the front of the house and slipped out the door.
She found Jamie standing in the side yard, staring out across the clearing.
It was cloudy but didn’t smell like there would be more snow just yet. The little bit of light was magnified as it reflected off the snow. Paths had been cut through the otherwise pristine scene. Dirty trails to and from the barn and other outbuildings, the shortest distance possible to keep the time in the frigid air to a minimum.
Claire hurried to Jamie’s side and nestled against him, pulling her shawl tighter and wishing she’d grabbed a cloak on her way out. Jamie opened his coat to her and drew her close, sniffing to control his tears and runny nose so he wouldn’t drip on her.
“I heard,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away the wetness before it could freeze in place.
Jamie just nodded and rested his forehead against her crown, sharing his happiness with her.
anonymous asked: I'd like to see the whole family, including William, maybe LJ, celebrating Jamie's birthday on the ridge. Of course after Roger & Bree have returned.
Homecoming - Epilogue
Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen
The snow and ice of winter had melted away and the early warmth of spring had coaxed some green from the bare branches and ground of the mountainside. Too much longer and it would grow difficult for those unfamiliar with the way to find the path through the woods an up to Fraser’s Ridge. It might have been a few years since he’d last visited, but the way was still distinct enough in Lord John Grey’s memory for him to follow the trail easily.
William had let him know about his plan to escort Dottie and her baby to her husband’s sister on the Ridge. When that trip turned into a prolonged visit, William had written him about that as well. But it had been Jamie who’d informed John about the young man’s decision to stay on the Ridge through the harsh winter months. It was a decision that sat uncomfortably with John. Even now, having heard from William several times and knowing that the stay had proved satisfactory, John wasn’t sure what to make of it.
On one hand, he was pleased that the tension between father and son appeared to be resolved. But on the other, it was strange to no longer be the conduit between them… to be left out by both of them. He wanted them to be happy… but he wanted to be there to enjoy their happiness, to have a shot at being a part of it too.
It was silly to feel that way about it, he told himself. He had been invited, after all, so they weren’t going out of their way to exclude him. And there was more to it than just William and Jamie. Jamie had written about the return of his daughter and son-in-law to the Ridge with their children. And there was other family living there as well. It was a place full of Jamie’s people — the Ardsmuir men, his fellow Highlanders, and more.
Not a place for the man those people remembered as the governor of their prison. Even if the Frasers welcomed him warmly enough, what would the larger Ridge community make of his presence?
It would be a short visit then, no more than a few weeks. And would William be leaving with him at the end of them? John hoped so. He missed the young man’s company and there was plenty of business the young earl needed to take care of, both in Virginia and at the estates he’d inherited abroad. He couldn’t hide in the Carolina mountains forever.
Except he could, and he just might. John knew better than to guess at what time in the wilderness with the likes of Jamie and Claire Fraser might have changed for William.
The trail grew more distinct and the woods thinned having been largely cleared for building and fuel. He urged his horse to a quicker pace, eager to be done with his ride and among people again — he was growing tired of only having his own thoughts for company.
There was a sudden movement up ahead and his horse startled and reared. John barely kept his seat, surprised himself.
“Sorry!” hollered a youthful voice as a small form scrambled up from the ground, dusted itself off, and began speaking to calm the horse.
When the horse had settled enough, John slipped from its back and took a firm hold of the bridle, running a soothing hand along its neck and quieting the animal the rest of the way.
The boy came closer, apologizing repeatedly and when John caught sight of the ruddy hair and piercing blue eyes, he chuckled and shook his head.
“You must be Brianna Mackenzie’s boy,” he remarked. The boy broke into a grin and nodded. “You look like your mother.”
“Aye, everyone says so. There’re worse things, I suppose,” Jem quipped. “I didna mean to startle yer beast there. We’ve been comin’ out and keepin’ watch for ye everyday this week. I thought I might see ye comin’ from farther off if I climbed the tree but the branches were a bit more broken than I counted on and when I saw ye were so close already, I put my foot in the wrong place and — well, I suppose ye can guess the rest.”
They had only advanced a few yards along the path toward the house when additional noise signalled the approach of the others sent to watch for the expected guest.
“Was that you made such a stramash?” Germain asked, ridicule and amusement infusing his voice.
“Grannie Claire warned ye,” Mandy scolded. “She said ye were gettin’ too big to be climbing the trees and she’d see ye in her surgery did ye keep it up.”
“Aye, well I’m no hurt, am I,” Jem countered. “Now run ahead and tell them he’s come.”
“Uncle William’s excited to have ye here,” Mandy bubbled as she turned, ready to sprint.
John found himself smiling as he followed the two boys at a slower pace and listened to their babbling. It seemed he had arrived in time for a small celebration that would be taking place in honor of Jamie Fraser’s birthday.
“It’s just the Murray’s that’ll be over and perhaps Mrs. Hunter and the bairns, now ye’ve come in time — ye’re her uncle, no?” Jem asked.
“I am,” John confirmed, not that the child was paying much attention to the answer. He’d launched into a list of the food the women were busy preparing while the men were at work on the house for the returned Mackenzies. It must have been a long winter indeed, with so many people crowded under one roof.
The new Mackenzie house was closer than the rebuilt Fraser homestead and they soon heard the shouts and pounding of roof shingles being passed up and nailed into place. The boys ran down a shallow incline toward the nearly completed structure while John paused to observe.
It was easy to spot Jamie, crouched on the roof and wiping sweat from his brow with one hand while he waited to be handed the next shingle. Ian Murray stood with a pile of shingles in his hands, Roger Mackenzie laughing behind him. Which meant it was William who had the girl, Mandy, sitting on his shoulders. Ian would hand the shingle up to her and she passed it along to Jamie who shuffled along the roof and nailed it into place.
Jamie looked up as the boys careened toward them, screaming with excitement. Spotting John, Jamie raised his hand in welcome and moved toward the ladder to come down. William turned then and smiled at the man who’d raised him.
The children were again sent ahead while the men of the Ridge welcomed the visitor and tidied up, happy for an excuse to end their day early. Roger and Ian casually hastened their pace so that they soon were much further ahead of Jamie, John, and William.
“You survived a winter in the mountains then, son?”
William laughed. “Yes, though it might be more accurate to say the mountains survived winter on the Ridge.”
Jamie chuckled warmly at that. “Aye. We’d more folk to stay than we’d planned and there were times it seemed we might need to bed some down alongside the animals in the barn so we’d no be so much under one another’s feet. This is one of several houses and expansions we’ve been at work on so far and thank the almighty the weather’s cooperated and helped us along.”
“We’ve expanded the Murray’s house so that Dottie and Minnie have a room to themselves,” William explained. “She’s had word from her husband that he should be granted leave to visit soon, but whether he actually gets it will depend on the war, of course.”
The mention of the war lead to a prolonged silence, eventually broken by Jamie. “I’ll take yer horse for ye,” he offered as they approached the big house. “William can show ye to the room Claire’s prepared for ye, if ye dinna encounter her on yer way.”
“Thank you,” John said, handing over the reins while William removed the bags with John’s clothes and other things.
John thought he saw movement at one of the windows but when they entered the house, all the noise seemed to be concentrated in the kitchen in the back. William led him upstairs and John suspected it had been Claire at the window and that she’d seen to it he and his son would have a few minutes to themselves ahead of what promised to be a boisterous gathering.
“You look well,” John told William as they began arranging John’s things about the small but comfortable room. “You’re enjoying yourself here, then?”
“I have, yes,” William confessed. “I thought it would be… awkward. And it was. At first. But now… Mother Claire told me that, when she looks at me… she sees the life they might have had if they hadn’t been parted by circumstance… She said that she looks at me as the son they should have had.”
John nodded but kept quiet, watching the color rise up William’s neck and settle. He felt a slight strain in his chest, waiting for William to find the words he was struggling with, waiting for his son to look at him.
“You know, Brianna was raised believing another man to be her father?” William asked, finally looking at him. John could only press his lips together, recalling the day Brianna had told him about her other father. William looked away again, out the window toward the barn where Jamie was tending to John’s horse.
“Since I first learned the truth… I wondered, sometimes, what it might have been like. If what Mother Claire said could have been true — if I had been their son and been raised by them… with a sister and cousins… I think I would have liked it. I think… it would have been… I would have been happy.”
John cleared his throat quietly, the strain in his chest getting tighter. “I think so too,” he said. “They’re good people, and would have raised you well.”
William looked back at him again and smiled. “I’m still glad that you were my father, though. Whatever it might have been… I wouldn’t trade you.”
John smiled and blinked back the tears in his eyes as he stepped forward and put a hand on William’s shoulder. William turned and embraced him, the tension in John’s chest disappearing under the pressure of his son’s arms. It lasted only a moment and then William stepped back, chuckling quietly.
“It’s helped to talk with Bree,” he confessed. “It’s difficult to wish for such different things at the same time — what might have been and what was.”
John nodded. “It’s all past, now, and nothing to be done about it. You can only appreciate what you have in the present, and look to the future.”
“Mmmm… And in our very near future is strong Scottish whisky, a fine dinner, and some music and dancing, if Roger Mac has anything to say about it. Let’s go down. Mother Claire will be wanting to see you and Dottie will be here soon — her baby looks just like Aunt Minnie.”
Something happens where William saves Mandy. He realizes how much it would hurt him if anything happened to her causing realizations about family.
Homecoming - Part Eleven
Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten
*******************************************
William wasn’t completely sure how it happened, buy Mandy had become his shadow. Which turned out to be a good thing, because he found her easier to be around than any of the others at the Ridge… aside from Mother Claire, perhaps. And his cousin, Dottie, but he didn’t spend as much time with her as he knew he ought. Though he had come to terms with Rachel’s marriage to Ian and he was happy to be on speaking terms with them again, there remained an awkwardness between them that had yet to fade.
He still wasn’t sure what he felt about Jamie, it changed too often and too quickly. He could talk over things with Brianna, but the success of those endeavors depended on both their moods (Mother Claire said that was because of their Fraser blood, as likely to pick a fight as support each other). Roger… William didn’t have the faintest idea what to make of the man and it seemed Roger suffered the same conundrum.
It warmed his heart to see how Fanny continued to thrive in the care of the Frasers. She had grown into her own person in a way he hoped would make her sister proud. She was often away with the Murrays helping Rachel and Dottie care for their babes. Germain and Jem were as close as brothers and could rarely be found outside of each other’s company. And Mandy was too often the odd man out. Too young (and uninterested in babies) to join Fanny, the boys didn’t want her slowing them down.
Rather than acknowledge any hurt at being left out, Mandy had taken in interest in William instead. He’d earned her admiration and captured her curiosity when he’d joined them playing hide and seek. She hovered around him the rest of that day and then he noticed her watching him the next day. When he asked her if there was a particular reason why she was doing so, she surprised him by launching into a string of questions.
“Why do ye talk like Grannie Claire?”
“If ye didna play hide and seek as a bairn, what did ye play?”
“Is it true ye were in the army? Grandda fought in a bunch of wars.”
“How long are ye stayin’ here? Will ye stay till spring so we can play in the snow? I used to make snow angels wi’ Jemmy when we lived at Lallybroch but it didna snow there so much as it did in Boston, or that’s what Mam says.”
William found himself laughing at the enthusiastic questions and then crouching to take the young girl’s hands when she seemed hurt by his amusement.
“My apologies, Miss Mackenzie. I’m afraid you’re going a little too quickly for me to be able to answer properly. And for it to be a true conversation, you must allow me to ask questions of you as well,” he told her.
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then nodded and thrust her hand out to him. “Deal. I go first though.”
He took her hand but rather than shake it, he bent his head and gave her a peck on the back of it.
“Well, what’d ye do that for?” she asked, baffled.
“Because I felt like treating you as the lady you are,” he told her with a playful smile that failed to register with her.
“I am not a lady,” she informed him. “Now, what sorts of games did ye play as a bairn if ye didna play hide and seek and can ye teach me how to play them?”
“Ah, but it’s my turn. You already asked me your first question and I answered,” he teased, looking down and the hand by her side, which quickly repositioned itself on her hip.
“That wasna a real question!” she objected.
“Oh, but it was,” he insisted. “I laid out the rules and you agreed to them, did you not?”
A triumphant smile lit her face. “Yes I did, and tha’s yer first question answered. My turn again.”
William chuckled and moved to sit beneath a nearby tree. “Fair enough. Go ahead.”
*******************************************
They played their question game while William went about various chores, while he wandered and explored the area surrounding the Ridge, and while they sat out in the yard doing nothing.
He went about seeing to his horses one afternoon, and examined the cart he’d brought with him and Dottie. One of the wheels needed to be tightened before it could be taken out again but instead he put the cart into one of the disused stalls of the barn where it would remain out of the way and protected from the elements. Mandy fed hay one piece at a time to the horses until they grew tired of waiting for a proper mouthful and snorted in her face.
He’d stayed long enough that it would be foolish to try and leave the mountain. There was no telling when the snows of winter would start and he had no intention of being caught in the middle of the woods during a blizzard with only the barest sense of where he should be headed.
He was stuck on the Ridge until spring. But he wasn’t as disappointed by the idea as he’d thought he’d be. It was actually a relief to have the decision made for him. Perhaps he’d just been putting off making up his mind precisely so he wouldn’t have to.
While he was in the barn with Mandy, Jamie came through and asked if William would like to accompany Brianna and himself on a hunt the next day.
“We’ll be needin’ more stores before the snows come and I ken ye’re a fair shot,” Jamie explained.
Though he was surprised (and not at all surprised) that Brianna would go on the hunting trip, William agreed. After Jamie left, he then had to explain to Mandy why she wouldn’t be able to go with them.
“Even Germain and Jem won’t be joining us, so you’re not the only one who’ll be staying behind,” he told her. The scowl furrowing her brow was enough to know that line of reasoning didn’t matter. “How about, I do my best to get something for you while I’m out? Some rabbit fur to line a hat or some gloves for you perhaps?” She began to perk up. “And while I’m gone, you need to figure out something to surprise me with as well. See if you can find any berries or nuts for a snack — I’ll be hungry by the time I get back.”
She was smiling by then. “I ken just what I’mma find for ye, but I’m no goin’ to tell ye or it’ll no be a surprise.”
*******************************************
William woke and left early with Jamie and Brianna, taking only as much as they might absolutely need to make the journey back — hopefully laden with at least a hundred pounds of meat apiece — as easy as possible.
The three of them spoke little on the trip, partly due to the necessities of their making the trip, but also because they didn’t need to talk. They fell into similar rhythms, trading taking the lead as one of them spotted a trail and lead the others in pursuit. It was… surprisingly companionable and enjoyable. With the settled goal before them, the pressure fell on the task rather than how they would be around one another. He was amazed by Brianna’s skill and humbled by the pride in Jamie’s face whenever William caught their father watching them.
Brianna took down two large turkeys and a pheasant. Jamie downed a buck and had the two of them go on ahead a ways while he butchered and packed the meat as best he could. They’d swing back to help him after another hour on their own. William had begun the day targeting rabbits and smaller creatures, successfully bagging three with similar coloring that would line some boots and a hat for Mandy. On the final stretch with just Brianna, he managed to take down a young doe. It was more easily carried whole and butchered at the Ridge than trying to rush the job with the day advancing and ominous clouds descending. They left more of Jamie’s buck behind than they were happy with but as snow began to fall, they wished they had asked someone else to join them only so they would have more help carrying everything back.
They expected everyone to come rushing out of the cabin to help when they hallooed the house but only Germain and Jem emerged and ran to help them.
“Mandy’s missing!” they hollered. “Gran and Da and Uncle Ian went to find her. They thought she was playin’ wi’ us but we came back when the snow started and told ‘em she’d no been wi’ us,” Jem rambled, his fear prominent. “Fanny’s watchin’ the fire and gettin’ food ready but they’ve been gone longer’n they should be and–”
“Quiet, now,” Jamie ordered. “Which direction did they go?”
“They split up,” and the boys talked over one another pointing every which way.
“William, you stay here and take care of all this,” Jamie instructed, gesturing to their haul. “Bree, dinna fash. It’s likely they’ve already found her and are just havin’ a time getting back through the snow.” At least two inches had already found their way down through the treetops to coat the ground around the cabin.
“No,” William objected. “I think… I believe this is my fault. I think she got the idea to wander off because of something I said yesterday. I’d like to help look for her.”
“What did you say to her?!” Brianna yelled, her maternal fear boiling over. Jamie grabbed hold of Brianna to keep her from physically doing anything to William.
“It doesn’t matter. I might have an idea of where to find her,” he insisted, looking to Jamie.
“Go,” Jamie nodded. “We’ll take care of this and then we’ll join the rest of ye if ye’re not back already.”
William handed his gun to Germain and turned the sack with the three rabbits over to Jem. He dumped the doe on the ground and headed back up the hill into the trees.
He didn’t know where she would look for the sorts of nuts he’d suggested, but he couldn’t stay behind wondering where she was and not doing anything to help. Not when he blamed himself. He should have known that she would wander off on her own, would go further than she ought to without someone like himself with her. And with the snow coming in… He should have told her to have Mother Claire help her with something, or just let her be disappointed and frustrated without trying to soothe and placate her. It was irresponsible on his part and if anything happened to her…
He spotted the tree where he’d encountered the children playing that first time he’d joined them.
There were footprints beneath it. Too small to belong to Germain or Jem.
He followed the trail along a circuitous path leading back in the general direction of the cabin. Disturbances in the path and additional footprints from smaller, more local creatures, told William that Mandy had endeavored to try her hand at trapping. She’d gone along with him, checking traps before, and had undoubtedly watched her father, grandfather, and even her brother and cousin fiddling with different snares.
The trail ultimately led him to the doors of the barn and relief washed through him. He knocked gingerly before going in. It was warm thanks to the large bodies of so many beasts.
“Mandy?” he called quietly and heard a rustling from the corner where his cart was stored.
“Ye’re back!” she cried, rushing out to pounce on him, a dead mouse held awkwardly by the tail in her hand. “I caught ye somethin’ too, see.”
He took it from her to examine it, trying to hurry things along so they could get back. He desperately wanted Brianna to calm down and forgive him. He wanted Mother Claire and the others home safe rather than out in the cold and the snow. He wanted to sit and hear Jamie sharing their stories from the day’s hunt while everyone enjoyed a warm dinner in the cosy safety of the cabin.
“How did you manage to catch it?”
“Well… I didna so much catch him as find him,” she confessed. “But I had to make sure he was dead and he is.”
“Well, you’ve done a fine job. I’ll have to have you help me with the traps again after the storm’s passed and we’ve found a way to line your boots with some of the rabbit fur I brought back with me.”
“I wanna see!” she exclaimed, rushing past him back outside through the snow to the glow of the cabin.
He trailed behind, noticing that Mother Claire, Roger and Ian were gathered in the yard with Jamie. Mandy barreled down toward them and the cry of joy and relief that went up when they spotted her warmed him even as the snow began to make its way into his boots. Jamie clapped him on the back and bent to whisper, “Well done, lad,” while the others questioned Mandy about where she’d been and why.
William felt color rise in his cheeks at the praise and the welcome. Mother Claire embraced him and relieved him of the dead mouse, the two of them chuckling over it.
I would love to see a sweet scene or two of William at Fraser's Ridge (circa book 9) bonding with Mandy and/or Jem. What do the kids think of their Uncle Willie?
Homecoming - Part Ten
Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine
With so many people about the big house—and with so many of them watching him—William felt the need to get away. He couldn’t retreat to the room he’d been given upstairs. It was too close and would feel too much like hiding. They’d be waiting for him to come down and then he’d have to watch them restrain themselves as the impulse to bombard him with questions seized them all. Well… maybe not Mother Claire. But her gentle kindness and understanding would leave him feeling coddled and he didn’t need that either.
He just needed some space and some time to adjust to… everything.
He slipped out the back, picked a direction, and began walking. The children were having something to eat and with so many of them about, it took a large number of the adults to get them sorted. He also thought he heard Jamie and Brianna discussing plans for some sort of building they hoped to start work on soon.
William soon felt the tension in his head and limbs loosen. The air was crisp and had that clean feeling that can only be found when you remove yourself far enough from a habited space. The forest wasn’t too dense but there was plenty of shade keeping the area cool. He could find no discernable path and paused to take in and mark his surroundings. The last thing he needed was to get himself too lost to find his way back and require a search party. He would never manage to escape being watched if that were to happen.
There appeared to be a clearing to his right, so William headed in that direction. He knew he wasn’t close to the big house, but he could — perhaps — pretend he’d been sent on an errand to one of the other houses on the Ridge and get a sense of just how far off he’d gotten.
But there was no cabin or farm when he reached the edge of the clearing. Instead, the trees opened as they approached a steep dropoff. William kept to the treeline and safely away from the edge. When he looked up and out, a quiet and calming sense of awe overtook him.
A corner of the valley lay before him. He’d seen more stunning views in his travels through the colonies. He was momentarily thrust back into a memory of visiting the Ridge as a boy and Jamie taking him on a hunting trip. There had been a remarkable view along a cliff like this — though, that one had been steeper, the view stretching further. It must have been at a higher point on one of these mountains.
It wasn’t the vast wilderness that William found incredible here. It was the columns of rising smoke. It was the empty spots among the trees along the mountainside. There had to be more than two dozen of them. The homesteads of settlers who had followed Jamie, trusted him with their lives and their families. Settlers who had built something for themselves in the wilderness — who were still building and would build long after Jamie was gone.
William felt a stab of admiration for the man who’d fathered him. He had heard enough of Jamie Fraser’s history to know he hadn’t had an easy life — especially after the Jacobites were defeated — so to see how much he’d accomplished…
It was difficult to make out but William was pretty sure he could tell which of the cleared spaces belonged to the Frasers. Marking it in his memory, he headed back into the forest and oriented himself in the right direction once more.
As he walked, William’s thoughts traveled to his sister, Brianna, and all that she’d said about her own upbringing, how she hadn’t known Fraser was her father until she was grown. She’d certainly come to embrace Jamie Fraser. Hearing her talk, she’d clearly adored the man who raised her — and who’d lied to her. Somehow she’d managed to make peace with the two men and their roles in her life.
He’d asked her about that too. What had she done to find that peace within her or had she just woken up one day and felt different. She’d said it wasn’t until she became a mother herself that she had really been able to come to terms with it all, as much as she ever would.
“I looked at my baby and knew I’d do anything for him. I would never do anything to purposely hurt him. And I knew that all of my parents must’ve felt the same way,” she’d said. “I never would have imagined how many lies I’ve told my children — to keep them safe, to keep them innocent… Mostly small lies that won’t mean much in the long run, but little betrayals of their trust that they would be horrified by if they learned the truth now. And then there are larger lies, though they’re fewer and mostly lies of omission. Those are the ones I worry about,” she confessed. “I guess… because those are the ones that hurt me the most. But that’s why I give my parents a great deal of slack now, for what they kept from me.”
William had let the subject drop, preferring to mull it over on his own. Where was the line between outright lies and lies of omission in his case? And how much did it matter? It didn’t change the love he’d received from his mother, his grandparents, or Papa. How much had they done it to protect him and how much had they done it to protect the memory and reputation of the mother who’d borne him? Again, did it matter? What would he have done in their situation?
What might things have been like if he’d been raised by Jamie Fraser? That had to be a question that Brianna had asked herself too. Of course, she was Jamie Fraser’s daughter by Mother Claire, and anyone who saw the two of them together… Whereas, he…
Jamie had told him several times that whatever regrets he had about William’s mother, he didn’t regret William’s existence. But that could mean… too many things.
Laughter. Not just any laughter, but the laughter of children. It was so light and happy it distracted William from his thoughts.
Brianna’s children were playing in the woods. At least, those were the two he could see. William suspected the other children weren’t too far away. Fanny or, perhaps she was too old to bother with children’s games. But the older boy with the French name; he would be involved. He didn’t seem the type to miss out on mischief and fun. Right now Mandy was following a few steps on Jem’s heels as he crept through the underbrush to peek behind a tree. Mandy jumped and squealed but Jem shook his head.
William turned his path to approach them slowly, continuing to watch them.
There was a great commotion that involved Mandy shrieking with terror and Jem and another child laughing.
Mandy didn’t seem amused. She turned on her heel to stomp away but stopped dead when she spotted William watching. The boys stifled their laughter and smiled benignly at William.
“What have you three been playing at?” William asked. “It looked like you were enjoying yourselves.”
“We were just playin’ hide and seek,” Jem answered. “But I think Mandy’s had enough.”
Mandy turned back around to glare at her brother. “Wha’ I’ve had enough of is you and Germain playin’ against me. I wanna be seeker.”
“And we dinna want ye gettin’ tired part way through and goin’ off to pick flowers and leavin’ us hidin’ till dark,” Jem threw back at her.
Mandy’s face grew red at the accusation.
“Perhaps you can explain the game to me,” William intervened.
All three children looked at him with the same puzzled expression.
“Have you never played it then?” Germain asked.
“I didn’t have anyone to play with,” William explained. “No one my own age. I had tutors until I was old enough to go to university and then I went into the army.”
Mandy’s mouth gaped open. “Ye’ve never played before? At all?”
William chuckled, a little self-conscious under the gaze of the older boys. “I didn’t have the opportunity to play games very often, but I did play… And I rode horses a lot. It was uh… it was your grandfather who taught me to ride when I was about your age,” he told Mandy.
“Grandda’s great wi’ horses,” Jem agreed.
But Mandy was still focused on the fact William had never played hide and seek before.
“You can be seeker wi’ me,” she declared, turning to Jem and Germain to see if they would challenge her or let her have her way.
*************************************************
“They should have been back to the house by now,” Brianna remarked, anxiety overflowing.
Claire tried to soothe her but knew it was pointless given all Brianna had been through the last few months.
“They’re children, Bree. If they’re having fun, they won’t be thinking about how worried you might be or how late they are. Remember Germain is with them and he knows these mountains as well as your father does.”
Brianna’s arm suddenly shot out across Claire’s chest, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“I hear someone,” she whispered.
Claire rolled her eyes and gently maneuvered around Brianna’s arm.
“It’s William,” Claire said, keeping her voice quiet so their presence might remain unnoticed. “He’s got Mandy with him. I think… I think he’s playing with them.”
“Playing what?”
Mandy was on William’s shoulders, her hands in his hair guiding him. He had a grip on each of her legs and was leading her around from tree to tree so she could peer up into the branches from a higher vantage point.
“Found you!” Mandy hollered, pointing up at Jem whose leg was just visible on a branch.
Claire felt Brianna breathe a sigh of relief beside her, and then giggle as they watched William fighting to keep Mandy properly balanced amidst her excited flailing. At one point, she leaned forward over William’s head to peer at him upside down. The smile that broke out on his face at whatever she said caused Claire’s chest to tighten.
“Shall we leave them to continue playing?” she suggested to Brianna. “I think they’ll find their way back on their own and I’d hate to disrupt them.”
Imagine Jocasta and Brianna discussing art? Am I right in remembering that both Ellen and Jocasta had artistic talent?
Claire had volunteered to take the baby for a walk so that Brianna could rest. She remembered those early weeks of motherhood and how exhausting they’d been. She remembered how much she longed, not just for Jamie, but for Jenny and Ian and Mrs. Crook and all the company there’s been at Lallybroch when Jenny’s girls were infants. Instead, she’d had Frank (when he wasn’t at work) and one or two neighbors who would check on her (and judge her mothering skills). She remembered how she struggled to remember her own mother and how she’d wondered what her mother’s advice to her would be.
When she’d first realized Brianna was pregnant, one of Claire’s first feelings had been relief that she could be there for Bree after all, that her daughter wouldn’t have to endure her pregnancy alone.
The baby fell asleep soon after they left the house, but that only made the walk easier. He was getting heavier but hadn’t yet taken to squirming too much. Soon he would be alert and curious enough to turn even simple chores and tasks into a nightmare; he would be reaching for things and putting them in his mouth when he got them, screeching when he didn’t get his way… But for now, he lay limp against Claire’s shoulder, his mouth slightly open, and a pool of drool beginning to soak the cloth she’d spread beneath his head to protect the neck of her dress.
Claire noted the herbs that were ready for picking and began to itch for her basket. She would need to return to the house and swap the slumbering baby for her basket and the garden knife Jamie had given her.
Approaching the house, Claire discovered that Brianna wasn’t napping anymore. She’d joined Jocasta in a chair on the veranda, her sketchbook in her lap. But she wasn’t drawing. She was looking out at the yard leading down to the river front and talking. Jocasta faced the same direction with a sad smile on her face, her blind eyes searching for the memory of light. As she got closer, Claire could hear what Brianna was telling her great aunt. She was describing the landscape, but not how it looked as the sun continued to rise above the trees on the far bank of the river with the light sparkling sharply off the water’s surface. No, Brianna was describing how she would approach capturing it on a canvas.
“There’s too much movement for precision,” she was saying as Claire stood watching them. “The only way to convey that is not to think too much. Lay out the underlying colors on the palate and then mix them here and there. Get a bit of paint on the brush and then smear it where you see the color. Can’t even worry about the general shape, just the flash of color cause as soon as you get it down, the river moves on and takes that bit of color with it.”
“It sounds like a thrilling challenge,” Jocasta agreed. “But I do fear there arena many as would appreciate the result. I ken many as would say an approach like that would only yield a mess. And did I have the proper use of my eyes, I’m no sure what I’d make of it myself… but it sounds lovely.”
“I’ll paint a scene in that style for you,” Brianna declared with a grin. “You’ll be able to feel the brush strokes with your fingers and I’ll tell you which colors and what you’re looking at. If I do it right, you’ll have the impression of the scene.” Brianna spotted Claire as she said the last and a bit of color rose in her cheeks.
Jocasta chuckled. “I should like that. And what do ye think of yer daughter’s notion, Claire?” Jocasta asked, raising her voice and quirking her head to gauge Claire’s reaction to knowing she’d failed to sneak up on the blind woman. “D’ye think it’ll be worth the materials that go into makin’ it?”
Claire shifted the baby in her arms as he began to rouse and search for his next meal. Brianna set her sketchbook aside and rose from her seat, crossing to take her son from Claire.
“I think it will work beautifully,” Claire decreed, dropping into the seat on Jocasta’s other side.
“And have you a hand for drawing or painting?”
“I have nowhere near Bree’s talent, but I can sketch a plant well enough to find it again and can capture a body or injury enough to recognize the condition a second time,” Claire admitted. “But from what Jamie tells me —and from what I saw at Lallybroch — Bree gets most of her talent from her grandmother.”
Jocasta smiled warmly and nodded. “Aye, Ellen had a good eye and a steady hand. As did I, in my younger days. The hand remains steady,” she declared, raising one and holding it still with graceful ease, “but the eye has failed me. It’s only in my mind’s eye I have any sight left, and even that begins to fade wi’ time.” The three women paused in a moment of silent mourning for Jocasta’s loss. “Did ye have anyone to teach Brianna when ye found she’d a talent for drawing, or is she entirely self-taught?”
“She had some lessons when she was younger,” Claire fibbed, watching Brianna’s smile over the baby’s head as they both recalled the finger paintings and macaroni artwork that Brianna had brought home from school and proudly displayed about the house. “And I took her to galleries to see art, of course… when the opportunity presented itself.”
“I wish I might have had ye to visit a few years ago, when I still painted myself. I’ll have my things taken out for ye to use, Brianna, as ye wish,” Jocasta promised. “But now, I ought to have a word with Ulysses about some household matters.” Brianna clutched the baby to her with one arm so she could stand and offer the other to Jocasta. Claire helped from the other side, humoring Jocasta as she made a fuss about not needing there to be a fuss.
When she was safely inside and out of earshot, Claire sidled up next to Brianna to watch the baby sleep. She spotted the abandoned sketchbook and the page Brianna had been working at earlier. The curve of the river was laid out simply above the faint outline of the baby’s head, his eyes pressed shut and his mouth open with a yawn. Claire also recognized Roger’s profile in silhouette along one edge.
“The Impressionists wing was always your favorite at the MFA,” Claire said at last, unable to keep a smile from her face as she peered at Brianna from the corner of her eye.
Color rose in Brianna’s cheeks but she was smiling too. “I remember starting out standing as close as I could and then walking backwards until I reached the point where the smudges of paint became waterlilies or a haystack,” she reminisced. “It was like magic. The boundary between chaos and order. Only art can really capture both at once.”
“I feel the same way when I look through a microscope.”
Mother and daughter turned to each other and laughed.
Hi! I'd love to see more Homecoming! Maybe William can have that conversation with Bree... or maybe he can stop avoiding Rachel ^^ Thank you so much for all your work!
Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Homecoming - Part Eight
“Would ye no rather be helpin’ yer sister-in-law and her bairn to settle?” Roger asked of Ian and Rachel as they followed the children through the woods back to the big house.
“Mam has it all in hand and… if I’m bein’ honest…” Ian confessed quietly, “it’s a relief to have a break from her. I love her dearly but I’m no used to bein’ the only of her bairns wi’ her attentions. I think she’s in need of a wee change too and cleanin’ the cabin for Dottie while she and the bairn rest are as good for her as us.” Ian glanced briefly at Rachel who was preoccupied with Brian who’d sneezed. “Give her some time to adjust to what ye told her last night,” he added in a whisper.
“Well, I thank ye for letting me and the kids stay wi’ ye last night. Easier’n havin’ the carry ‘em all the way back.”
Germain and Jemmy had run ahead and were seeing who could climb a nearby tree fastest while Mandy hurried after and jumped to try to catch the lowest branch. Fanny appeared to be offering Mandy a lift but the youngest Mackenzie stubbornly refused the help.
“I am happy to have had the chance to meet thee and spend time coming to know thee,” Rachel said as she patted Brian’s back in the sling she wore across her front. “My husband has told many stories of thee and thy wife. I know he was sorry not to have thee with us when we were wed.”
“Aye well, there were many days when we would ha’ liked to have had him and the rest of ye wi’ us as well. Glad to see he’s found himself a wife and settled down proper,” Roger teased. “Puttin’ down roots.” The relief of being with family again was as heady and intoxicating as the whisky they’d shared the night before.
“Mama!” Roger heard Mandy shriek as the big house came into sight.
Brianna was in the yard with Claire and William, a basket over her arm already overflowing with greenery from Claire’s garden.
“Who’s that then?” Germain asked, dropping to the ground with a plop.
Jem dropped too, and landed right in front of Roger so that he jumped back before reaching out a hand laying it heavily on his son’s shoulder. Jem looked back at his father and gave him an apologetic smile.
“That… is a… visitor,” Roger answered awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how William would want to be introduced and hedged against his own inclination to call him the lads’ uncle. Germain frowned and looked to Jem who shrugged, still uncertain about how the young man was related to them himself.
Fanny recognized William immediately and was torn between running to him in her excitement and showing how she’d grown in his absence by demonstrating the proper decorum.
“Are ye sure ye dinna want to turn back?” Ian asked Rachel. “We’ve seen them safe back and Uncle Jamie and Auntie Claire willna mind.”
Rachel gave her husband an unamused look that Roger recognized well. He turned his attention to the children and his own wife, politely pretending to ignore the marital exchange happening beside him.
“If thee does not wish to see him then hurry thyself home,” Rachel retorted. “I believe that avoiding him will only prolong and call undo attention to any awkwardness there may be.”
Another sneeze from Brian punctuated his mother’s point and Rachel strode toward Claire, Brianna and William with greater purpose, quickly outpacing Roger and Ian. Roger watched William glance up from Fanny’s excited chattering and spot Rachel approaching. The color rose in the young man’s face as he bowed a greeting to Rachel then looked out to find Roger and Ian still making their approach at a leisurely pace. He nodded to the pair of them as well.
“I take it there’s history between ye?” Roger prompted.
“Aye, and a long one dependin’ on how far back ye wish to go,” Ian explained. “Strictly speaking, I was partly to blame for an embarrassing incident when he first visited ten years or more back.”
“Tha’s a ways alright,” Roger said with a snort. “Ye think he holds a grudge that long?”
“Well, it’s more to do wi’ the fact he fancied Rachel for a time… and likely still does. That I can tell her tales of his childhood humiliation doesna help.”
“What in heaven’s name did ye do to the lad?” Roger asked, glancing across at Ian who couldn’t conceal his amusement at the memory.
“All I’ll say is it ended wi’ him landin’ at the bottom of the privy and me down there soon after, though wi’ a wee bit more of my dignity intact,” Ian chuckled.
Roger snorted. “There’s nae dignity to be had if ye wind up covered in shite, no matter how it happened.”
“Mother Claire did a wonderful job,” William agreed with Fanny as she rattled off some nonsensical tongue twisters to demonstrate her newfound command of speech. “And you appear to like it here,” he added, a hint of question in his voice.
Fanny beamed. “I do. It can be as mad as the brothel and as loud, but I know Jane would have liked it here.” The girl’s smile faltered and her eyes shone as she looked away and took a deep breath.
“I’m glad,” William told her, reaching out and mussing her hair in a playful attempt to bring her back to lighter spirits. “Do you play with the other children or are you in charge of keeping them in order?”
“There’s none will keep Germain in order,” she muttered and Brianna snorted behind her.
“I’m afraid with Jem here it’ll only get worse,” Brianna apologized.
“Fanny, this is Mrs. Mackenzie,” William said by way of introduction. “She’s Mr. and Mrs. Fraser’s daughter.”
“I saw you last night,” Fanny noted. “You came down with Jamie and some others.”
“That’s right,” Brianna nodded.
Fanny turned to William. “Is she your sister? You call her mum ‘Mother Claire,’” Fanny pointed out.
Clearing his throat, William looked to Brianna and caught her smirking with satisfaction. It made him want to laugh as well as groan but the warmer of the two won out.
“Yes, she’s my sister… in a way. Not the same way that Jane was your sister,” William struggled to explain.
“Friend Claire,” Rachel called as she approached the house and garden with Mandy straggling beside her on tiny, tired legs.
Claire rose from a patch in the corner where she’d been weeding and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing a bit of dirt over one eye like a second eyebrow.
“Rachel! I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” Claire exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron and scooting around the edge of the fence. “I thought you’d be helping Dottie and Minnie to get settled.”
“My husband’s mother took it well in hand and I was eager to meet thy daughter as thee has told me so much about her,” Rachel explained and smiled at Brianna. “And I must apologize to thee for neglecting thee in my duties as hostess last night. Sister Dottie and the baby took more of my attention than I expected. But I’m glad to finally meet thee… and to see thee again, Friend William,” Rachel added, turning and smiling at him.
“You’re looking well… Mrs. Murray,” William greeted her awkwardly. “And it would appear congratulations are in order,” he nodded to the squirming bundle swaddled against her chest.
“I thank thee. It took us time to settle on a name for him. Brian James Hunter Murray,” Rachel cooed as she looked down at her contented and slumbering son.
“Named for our grandfather,” Brianna said quietly, coming up beside William, Mandy on her hip. “Same as me.”
“Issa bairn,” Mandy informed her new uncle. “He’s too wee for me to hold him yet.”
“It’s more that you’re too wee and not quite gentle enough to hold him yet,” Brianna corrected Mandy.
“He’s no too wee to hold him, is he?” Mandy asked, glancing to William. “Have ye ever held a bairn before?”
William wondered if the child was trying to see how dark a shade of red his face would go.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” he told her. “I brought my cousin and her baby daughter with me yesterday, do you remember?” Mandy nodded. “Well, she couldn’t carry Minnie the whole way by herself.” William thought back to the first terrifying moment Dottie had handed Minnie to him while she’d gone off to relieve herself behind a tree and the way she’d laughed finding he hadn’t moved a muscle in her absence. He had grown more comfortable with practice, however, though he remained paranoid that he would cause some sort of damage to the delicate and vulnerable baby. Every whimper and cry Minnie let out in his arms felt like an accusation.
But they’d been alone then, he and Dottie with the baby, either in unfamiliar towns and settlements or in the wilderness where he was their only source of protection. The weight of that responsibility had been heavier than he realized.
“Would thee like to hold Brian?” Rachel asked, surprising him. She was already pulling the baby free of his sling, his legs pulled up to his belly and his feet curling with what William saw as reluctance.
“Oh… That’s… I don’t…” William sputtered.
“Go on,” Brianna urged with a light bump from her elbow. “I don’t think Mandy’ll believe you till she sees it done.”
“He will be fine with thee,” Rachel insisted, gently settling the baby in William’s arms. “He’s not so breakable as he might seem and I have faith in thee.”
Brian peered up at William with a wariness that suggested he wasn’t as sure about William’s abilities as his mother. But he didn’t fuss or wriggle, just watched William and relaxed as the tension in William began to loosen as well. Brian was heavier than Minnie and longer, but then both Rachel and Ian were taller than Dottie and Brian might be a week or so older than his cousin.
“It would appear you are a natural,” Claire remarked with a smile and rested a reassuring hand on William’s shoulder.
“Mam, I wasna tha’ small too,” Mandy stated, peering down at Brian with skepticism.
“You absolutely were,” Brianna contradicted. “Smaller even. Jem too though he was less inclined to be agreeable at that size. Hungry all the time and hollerin’ for me to feed him.” She gave Rachel a look of commiseration.
“Jem does ‘at now,” Mandy said inspiring a chorus of laughs.
“Wha’s funny?” Jem panted as he and Germain reached the group.
“Nothing. Had enough of climbing trees?” Brianna asked with a tone that told her son what the correct answer to the question should be.
“Aye. Gran, is there anythin’ in here we’re allowed to eat?” Jem turned to Claire, eyeing the stems of some carrots that were in one of the baskets on the ground.
He didn’t seem to notice the renewed laughter as Claire ushered the children to the house with the promise of bread and honey, Brianna following with Mandy still on her hip.
“I can take him back if thee would like to go inside as well,” Rachel offered but William shook his head.
“We’re fine for now,” he assured her, watching the baby blink at him and yawn. “You probably already know this,” William mused quietly, not looking at Rachel who had stepped closer and was leaning over her son to watch him, “but he has your eyes.”
She smiled though he couldn’t see it. “That’s what Ian says. My eyes and his father’s disposition.”
“If tha’s the case ye’ll be in trouble before long,” Roger said, teasing Ian who walked beside him. “Or should I say, he’ll be in trouble before long?” He elbowed Ian lightly in the ribs.
“Tis a trait Friend Claire says men with Fraser blood share,” Rachel agreed with a laugh, smiling at William to show she was including him in her generalization.
“Perhaps tha’s so,” Ian conceded, striding over to William’s side and putting an arm around his shoulders in a familiar and jovial way. “It’s why we must find ourselves women as will follow us in our trouble gladly—or those wi’ a knack for helpin’ us find our way out of it once more. If we’re lucky.”
“It’s clear you have been,” William said with a sincerity that altered the mood. He offered Brian to his father who took him with a confidence born of practice.
“Ye will be too… cousin,” Ian replied, confident in the first sentiment and hesitant in the latter.
William didn’t rebuke him or walk away. Instead he smiled. “I can only hope to be half so lucky.” He glanced to Rachel who beamed at them.
Ian took hold of Brian under his arms and lifted him up to look him in his pouting face. “That would be lucky indeed, would it no?” he asked in a sing-song tone.
Brian sneezed in his face. William watched Rachel as they both laughed and realized he was genuinely happy for her and for Ian.
