“Fly like a cannonball straight to my soul / Tear me to pieces and make me feel whole / I'm willing to fight for it / To feel something new / To know what it's like to be sharing a space with you”
• SAVE TONIGHT | dedicated to @julesbeauchamp’s story of love that endures across time, distance, and heartache. •
1. Fall On Me - A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera || 2. I Won’t Let You Go - James Morrison || 3. Laughter Lines - Bastille || 4. Between Two Lungs - Florence + the Machine || 5. I’ll Be Seeing You - Billie Holiday || 6. Heart In My Hands - Andreya Triana || 7. Move Together - James Bay || 8. Bloom - The Paper Kites || 9. Send Me the Moon - Sara Bareilles || 10. Flaws - Vancouver Sleep Clinic || 11. I’m With You - Vance Joy || 12. Hold You In My Arms - Ray LaMontagne || 13. First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes || 14. All My Days - Alexi Murdoch
Edinburgh To Boston - Chapter 12 - At The Crossroads - A Deal With The Devil
Good evening all! I am excited to have Chapter 12 of Edinburgh To Boston ready. This is a far, far cry from what I normally write. And it comes with a warning: THE CONTENT IS GRAPHIC. DO NOT READ IF THIS KIND OF THING IS OBJECTIONABLE TO YOU!
I do need to thank @julesbeauchamp @smashing-teacups and @scubalass for being betas on this. I do want to thank @scubalass who called me out on several points of this story. I know this has made the story significantly better overall. She is a “dog with a bone,” and wouldn’t let it go.
As always, I welcome any thoughts, suggestions, comments, respectfully submitted, of course.
I hope you enjoy reading.
Without further delay, for better or worse, I give you:
Edinburgh to Boston
Chapter 12
At The Crossroads - A Pact With The Devil
“What the hell are you doing here, Frank?” Claire snarled her nostrils flaring.
“Why Claire, dear, what does it look like I’m doing? I’m having dinner. What do you think I’m doing here?” he said mockingly.
She snorted with derision. “With whom? Another one of your students? Taking advantage of some poor misguided girl?”
“Poor and misguided girl, no. One of my doctoral candidates, yes. We were discussing the best methodology to use in her dissertation. Sandy is a very bright girl.”
Jamie’s head spun from Claire to Frank. The fucking sassenach bastard! Shite, he dropped his guard just for a moment and look at what happened. He needed to put an end to this now. He needed to get Claire away from him.
Frank turned from Claire giving Jamie a cold stare, “You are remiss in your manners pet, you have yet to introduce me to your dinner companion.”
“Don’t call me that!” There was a marked note of threat in her voice.
Standing to his full impressive height, Jamie insinuated himself between the Englishman and his Sassenach effectively shielding her with his body.
Frank briefly staggered leaning into Jamie for balance as he tried to get closer to Claire. That would prove to be an impossibility. An impenetrable mountain-sized man stood guard over her preventing even the meerest of glimpses of her.
Christ, the man stank like a distillery, his eyes were glassy, tie askew, and his balance impaired. Jamie wondered how much the man already had to drink.
He also looked like a man with a chip on his shoulder. A man angry at the world.
His assumed a protective mode, body taut, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his side, ready to keep her safe. “Dr. James Fraser, Dr. Beauchamp’s partner,” his voice husky as he tersely introduced himself.
There was no pretense of civility, no offer of handshakes made. The men took on the aspect of two dogs sniffing each other reading to fight. Jamie’s posture defensive while Frank’s became increasingly aggressive.
“Now if ye will excuse us, we were just getting ready to leave,” Jamie said gruffly and offered his hand to Claire. “Come, lass ‘tis time we leave. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
She took the proffered hand to get up. As she leaned over to reach for her purse, the wrap dropped exposing her whole back.
“Oh, ho! I think this is more than two colleagues simply having dinner together. You do look ravishing my dear,” Frank’s eyes raked over Claire’s body lasciviously. A body that was once his and now it belonged to…? His eyes then went to Jamie’s left hand observing the absence of a wedding ring. He looked at the Scot with contempt, how dare he claim something that was once his?
Her cheeks flushed crimson. What did it matter what he thought or what he thought he knew. The man was of no consequence to her anymore. And after all his liaisons past and present, who the hell was he to judge her?
Jamie helped adjust her shawl covering her once again. He knew that dress would be trouble.
He stood on the periphery of his limits struggling to control his anger. He needed to hit something or better yet someone. But, he did not want to cause a scene in the restaurant in front of Claire. Christ, he wanted to wipe that lecherous look off the arsehole’s face.
“Are ye ready, Sassenach?” Jamie asked tenderly as he turned to walk toward the front of the restaurant wanting to sign for the bill and return to the sanctuary of their room.
“Yes, let’s go. It’s been a long day,” She sighed.
“I guess this is it then. This is goodbye, Claire.”
Claire ignored Frank wanting to not have anything further to do with him. She turned and started to walk away.
“Who the hell do you think you are, Beauchamp? Think you’re better than me? You and your uncle always acting like you were better than anyone else, especially me. I’m talking to you, Claire,” he raised his voice causing the other patrons to turn and look. Frank grabbed Claire’s shoulder, spun her around to face him. She could feel his sweaty palm on her skin as he firmly seized her. He leaned in close enabling her to smell his fetid alcoholic breath skim hotly across her cheek.
It was obvious that he was drunk. The memories flooded back in a torrent. He often became hostile and threatening, even to the point of becoming physically abusive when he was deep in the drink. It had been years since she had seen him like this, morose and surly.
He had failed to make tenure and came home drunk. Of course, he blamed Lamb for his failures. He always did. Needless to say, she would be the one to pay the price. He demanded sex from her. “You like it rough, don't you, darling,” as he dragged her up to the bedroom. Frank threw her against a wall tearing at her clothes. She fought back but he was too strong. Naturally, he apologized the next day. “So sorry, old girl. I was drunk...pressure from work...the stress...a man needs the comfort of his wife in times like this...it will never happen again.” Yeah, you got that right. It will never happen again. He kissed her bloodied lips before he left for work leaving in a chipper mood like nothing had ever happened. Rising from the bed, she went to her closet. As she tugged her suitcase out of the closet, she dislodged a box that contained the love letters from his students. She took her few meager possessions and the box of letters. Battered and bruised, she left her home for what would be the last time for the safe haven she had with her Uncle. She never told anyone else other than Lamb what had happened. She never would.
She wanted to turn and leave just walk away from him now forgetting the whole ugly sordid mess that had been her time with Frank. But her loyalty to Lamb commanded her to stand her ground defending him against this pissant.
“DON’T. YOU. DARE. Lamb loved you like his own son and you betrayed both of us. Let go of me this instant you fucking sod.” Claire growled trying to pull her shoulder out of his grasp, but his grip tightened. For a man well into his cups, he was quite strong.
“I betrayed you and your uncle?! How little you know,” his voice dripped with sarcasm. “He wouldn’t share his research with me, hmm. Yes,” his speech slurred and he swayed slightly. “He said I had to earn the right to have it. I thought he meant all I had to do was marry you. But I was mistaken,” he laughed nastily. “You were a cunt then, and you’re still a cunt now. That’s all you were good for was a good fuck.” Frank drew closer narrowing the gap between them. His open hand familiarly cupped the space between her thighs, a part of her body that he once intimately knew. He stroked, squeezed and kneaded her like she still belonged to him. “You like that don’t you, bitch.”
Claire gasped, crying out, “JAMIEEE!”
Jamie turned his head and realized that Claire failed to follow him. He saw that mac na galla grabbing and touching her in a way no man wants to see happen to his woman.
“C L A I R E!” he bellowed in a hoarse angry voice. Christ, would no one go to help the lass?
Bystanders, diners, wait staff, were all stunned into inaction watching the tableau unfold around them not able to believe what their eyes told them.
With eyes narrowed dangerously, mouth grimly set, he pushed his way through the crowd recklessly. He must get to her. Waiters carrying heavily laden trays with dinners were knocked out of the way. Food flew about, dishes and silverware crashed to the floor, sending shards of china everywhere.
He watched Claire fighting and struggling with Frank. Taking her purse, she struck him about his head then clawed at his face. She kicked his ankle and stomped on his foot.
That’s it, lass, gie it to him. He took pride in how braw she was.
Observing Jamie’s approach, Frank called out loudly, “Had a piece of this yet, Fraser? I’ll bet you have. She likes to fuck and she’s good at it too. If she didn’t become a doctor, she could have made a good living as a whore. Did she ever su..”
Frank never got to finish his sentence as his face became acutely acquainted with Jamie’s fist.
There was something quite satisfying about being able to hear and to feel the nasal cartilage crunch with the impact of his fist. He knew he broke it on the first blow. Blood splattered out of Randall’s nose and mouth. He struck him about the face and eyes. That eye would be swollen shut and black come morn.
He was outside of himself now no longer the kind and gentle giant but a man consumed with rage. There was a blood lust coursing through his veins. A man blind with the need for vengeance. He would deliver blow after blow thus becoming her avenging angel to see justice done in her name. I fight for her.
He pummeled the filthy bastard in a trance-like fury reminiscent of his Viking berserker ancestors. He heard nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing other than the opponent before him.
He did, however, hear the voice of his Da. His Da had taught him how to fight, to defend himself. “Hit him in the soft parts, Jamie. Dinna waste time hitting yer opponent in the face. Ye’ll hurt yerself and no’ be able to defend yerself.” And he did as his father counseled him to do all those years ago. He struck his foe over, and over, and over again.
Slowly a soft musical voice began to cut through the haze in his mind. The voice called his name, told him to stop. The voice soothed him bringing him back. A hand so small, so fragile pulled him away stopping him from inflicting further damage.
Jamie blinked and looked up, not sure of where he was or what he had been doing. He felt weak as a kitten. Looking down, he saw his clothes were a mess splattered with blood, fluids, and wine. Someone called his name. Eyes the color of honey and fine whisky peered into his own.
“Sorcha”. He spoke to her in the language of his forefathers, in the Gàidhlig, for he had no English.
“Come with me, Jamie,” the voice said. And he knew he would follow that voice wherever it took him.
Claire began to issue orders to the wait staff like a drill sergeant. Towels, bowls of ice, antiseptic wash, wooden dowels, tape, a plastic bag, and whisky miraculously appeared. Jamie’s scrapes and wounds were cleansed, each digit, each bone palpated, bringing with it a hiss of pain. The adrenaline and endorphins were wearing off. There were definitely broken bones. How badly broken she couldn’t tell for sure. At least there were no bones protruding from the skin. She used the dowels for splints, taping his fingers together, and placed his hand in a plastic bag sealing it closed.
Smiling at him, she eased his hand into the ice bath to help keep the swelling at bay. She poured him a healthy dram of whisky telling him to drink.
“Moran taing.” He smiled back at her.
Unwillingly, she turned her attention to her former husband. A small blond woman was kneeling cradling Frank’s head on her lap stroking his forehead. She was dabbing at the blood seeping from his nose, wiping more blood from the corner of his mouth.
“You’re Claire, Fran, um, Professor Randall’s ex-wife? I’m Sandy Travers, his doctoral student.”
“Yes, I’m sure you are, my dear,” Claire said brusquely.
Pierre, the maî·tre d'hô·tel paced up and down sweat forming on his brow and lip. He began giving instructions of his own to the staff trying to resume order and business as usual. Guests were moved to empty tables away from the scene. Wine and liquor poured freely. Shit, how many dinners will I have to comp tonight?
“Madam, I must call the police to report this ah, disturbance. I shall call for medical assistance for the gentlemen as well.”
“Pierre, I am Dr. Claire Beauchamp room 702. Before you make any calls, let me finish examining the gentlemen and I will let you know what else needs to be done.” She smiled at him sweetly.
He gave her a quizzical look before acquiescing, “As you wish Madam.”
“Alright Frank, let’s have a look, shall we?”
“Keep your fucking Neanderthal boyfriend away from me,” he said glowering at Claire with his right eye. The left eye had swollen shut and blackened.
“He’s not a Neanderthal. He’s of Viking descent. Now hold still,” she said as she began to poke and prod his face and body.
Jamie had done a thorough job of beating Frank to a pulp. His nose was definitely broken. The orbit might be fractured and she was concerned about the tenderness in the left upper quadrant.
“Does your left shoulder hurt?
“What doesn’t hurt? But, actually yes it does a bit.”
“You need to go to the hospital now. I am very concerned about the tenderness in your abdomen.” Thank goodness his belly was soft, not rigid.
“I’m not going anywhere until I see that fucker in handcuffs for assault and battery.”
“Then you want to call the police to report this?”
“You’re damn right I do!”
“In that case, I assume you are prepared to be arrested too? If you have Jamie arrested, I’ll have you arrested for sexual assault. That was really very careless of you, to touch me that way in front of a room full of witnesses. So many of the women gave me their phone numbers offering to testify as to what they saw you do. Oh, and by the way, I kept all the love letters that your doctoral candidates sent you. It will make for very interesting reading in court showing your sexual inclination. Don't you think? Are you ready to be branded as a sex offender?”
“Claire, you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I just do that, pet,” she said caustically lightly patting him on the cheek. “It would give me great pleasure to ruin you, just like you ruined me and hurt Lamb. So, what’s it going to be, darling?”
Sandy looked from Claire to Frank. Her mouth open, her eyes wide with shock.
“Fr, Fr, Frank what does she mean by this? You told me I was the one you loved and there was no one else.”
“Oh, shut up, Sandy,” he snarled.
“You have a deal, Claire. No police. Just get me to a hospital. I’m not feeling well.”
“One more thing, you will never bother me or Jamie. There will be no contact, no threats of going back on your word ever, do I make myself clear? And you will stop using your students as your personal playthings. If you break any of these promises, I will make sure Dean Innes knows the reason why we divorced. Did you know that Innes was a close personal friend of Lamb’s? No, I don’t believe that you did. He always wondered what caused our breakup. If you break your promise, I will make sure Innes knows what your academic counseling includes. I think he would find reading the love letters quite informative. I am no longer the meek and obedient child you once knew Frank. I will ruin you and enjoy doing it,” she smiled contemptuously.
“Excuse me Dr. Beauchamp, but I think I am going to be sick. I have to go.” Sandy lifted Frank’s head off her lap, laid his head down gently and stood up uneasily.
“I am sorry that you had to hear this my dear, but it is for the best.”
Sandy shakily nodded her head and left.
Claire gently propped up Frank’s head. “I’m going to call Joe Abernathy to make arrangements for your admission. He’ll admit you discreetly.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “Abernathy too, Claire? Is there no end to your crass friendships?”
“You are a true elitist, Frank. Perhaps you would like for everyone to know what happened?”
“Call Abernathy, then. Be quick about it, I don’t feel well.”
And he didn’t look well at all. He began to develop a noticeable pallor. Skin becoming slightly sweaty. She was afraid that he might be going into shock and commanded blankets to wrap him up in.
She quickly scrolled through her contact numbers finding the one she needed.
“Joe Abernathy,” answered the male voice.
“Joe, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Lady Jane is that you?” he said with a wide grin on his face. “Where are you?”
“I’m here in Boston. I was supposed to be at a conference, but it was canceled at the last minute because of the blizzard.”
“Conference? I don’t recall...well anyway, good to hear your voice. What can I do for you?”
Claire proceeded to tell Joe about what happened and how she needed his help.
“LJ, you can’t be serious about this. The man molested you. You need to have him prosecuted for this especially after everything he did to you.”
“I can’t risk Jamie’s career. He’s a brilliant surgeon and I won’t have it. Not on my account anyway. Besides Frank had to promise to stop using his doctoral students as sex objects in exchange for my promise to not prosecute him. If I can stop him from hurting anyone else, my silence is well worth it. Joe, please, will you help me?”
“Of course, I will. What about Jamie, you think he has broken fingers?”
“I do, I have splinted them. Now all I have to do is convince him to go to the hospital. They may need to be set.”
“I’ll send an ambulance. See you in a little while.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“Frank, the ambulance will be here soon.”
He grunted. “Is he coming with us?”
“No, you’re coming with us. Let’s get that straight. There is no you and me, Frank.”
“One more thing before you go, Claire.”
“What is it?” she said in an exasperated tone.
“I’ve been watching you with him all night. What is it that you find so appealing in him?”
“He’s a man, something you know nothing about.”
She turned on her heel and began to walk back toward Jaime.
Now all Claire had to do was to convince one very large and recalcitrant Scot to go to the hospital.
“If I showed you my old scars / My war wounds, my broken heart / Would you let down your iron guard / Your armor, show me who you are / Little did I know when I was reaching out to help you / I was just as much in need of a rescue / Tell me who saved who, now?”
• GOLD DUST WOMAN | dedicated to @julesbeauchamp‘s story of love that only ever asks for you to be okay. •
1. Who Saved Who - Mindy Smith & Matthew Perryman Jones || 2. If You Were My Love - Stevie Nicks || 3. Alive - Sia || 4. Deep End - Ruelle || 5. My Skin - Natalie Merchant || 6. Falling Slowly (feat. Markéta Irglová) - Glen Hansard || 7. I Of the Storm - Of Monsters and Men || 8. Ship to Wreck - Florence + the Machine || 9. When You’re Gone - Paloma Faith || 10. Hurt - Gabrielle Aplin || 11. Tightrope - LP || 12. Stubborn Love - The Lumineers || 13. River (Cover) - Sara Bareilles || 14. Sorry - Halsey || 15. Heartlines - Florence + the Machine || 16. Smother - Daughter || 17. Like a River Runs (Cover) - Sia || 18. I Will Love You - Fisher || 19. I Say a Little Prayer for You - Lianne La Havas || 20. Adore - Jasmine Thompson
Edinburgh To Boston - Chapter 10 - Getting To Know You
Good evening all,
I’m back with Chapter 10. I tried something different here and I hope you all like it. There are some words I used that I got from Google Translate, I hope they are correct. The story also includes references to middle eastern culture. I also hope these are correct. I did my due diligence and researched the culture as best as I could. If there are errors, I do apologize.
We are nearing the end of this story. I am wondering if after I finish it should I continue with a Part II? Would you all be interested in continuing to read about these two or should I move on to something else? Your opinion matters to me.
Any thoughts or comments you have about the story, please let me know. Constructive, respectful criticism is welcome.
I need to thank @curlsgetdemgurls for putting up with me, encouraging me, and being the best beta around.
So without further ado, I give you:
Edinburgh to Boston
Chapter 10
Getting To Know You
SPLAT!!!
Something struck Jamie squarely in the center of his back. He had a suspicion of what hit him and who did it. Turning around he found Claire standing several feet behind him with the most angelic look on her face and her hands behind her back.
“What are ye doin’ there a nighean?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously. She had the appearance of pure innocence.
“Oh, Jamie! I saw it happen. Those little buggers. It was a drive-by snowballing. They ran off that way.” she pointed with her chin toward the street.
Against his better judgment, he turned to gaze in the direction that the supposed miscreants had fled.
SMACK!!!
Another snowball struck Jamie just below his hairline. The snow had yet to freeze and remained soft and powdery. The cold missile exploded sending a shower of fine-grained flakes across his neck tightly gripping his warm skin with icy fingers.
“Ifrinn! Now, Claire! I…” Jamie grumbled, wiping off his forehead, fingers cold.
THUMP!!!
Hurling her third projectile, it impacted successfully at his mid-center.
“OOF! I’ll get ye for this, ye wee minx. See if I dinna,” he said, his eyes narrowing. He meant to get his revenge.
“Catch me if you can!” Claire squealed as she turned to run as fast as the snow-covered walk permitted.
She was no match for Jamie’s long stride and powerful leg muscles.
“Got ye, ye wee besom. Now, tell me what I should do with ye?” He caught up his Sassenach wrapped his arms around her, gripped her in a tight embrace, lifting her up.
“Anything you want to,” she smirked.
Claire dropped her head down and gently kissed him on the tip of the nose. Her eyes shining bright with mischief.
“I can think of any number of things I’d like to do to ye, but none of them can be done in a public place.”
She lowered her head kissing him tenderly on his wide sweet mouth. Her lips parted, tongue sweeping across his, seeking entry. Granted. Their kiss deepened. The world, the cold, the snow all melted away.
“For the love of Mike! Get a room will ya?! This is a public park.” A voice barked out from some distance away.
The lovers broke apart, each looking at the other giggling.
“We have one!” they called back in unison to the anonymous voice.
“Then go there and use it, for Pete’s sake.” There was no malice to the voice rather it sounded amused and happy for the couple.
“Aye, I think we will. Thank ye for the advice.”
*************
The lovers continued their slow-paced walk. Hands linked, fingers intertwined, they stole shy glances at each other. She found his crooked smile charming. He thought her smile sweetly radiant, warming him to the backbone. The walkway was narrow causing them to frequently brush against each other or they wanted to believe.
They talked about everything and nothing, truly getting to know each other. Even though they had worked together for the past year, they knew precious little about each other.
“Have I ever told ye about my family, Sassenach?”
“No, not really,” Claire shook her head.
Jamie, a born storyteller, told her about his family and childhood at Lallybroch.
“My Mam, she seemed to favor me for some reason.” He added quickly, “No’ that she dinna love Willie and Jenny, but she would always look at me, smile and tell me that I was special that I was born to do something important. She said she kent it the day I was born. She would look at me and say, “Jamie lad, I want ye tae study hard, harder than ye want tae or think ye need tae. Someday ye will do something that will affect a lot of people. Ye need tae be ready.'’ I always thought all Mams said such things to their bairns. I dinna ken what I was supposed to do, but I studied hard just as she asked.”
“Now my brother Willie, I idolized him. He could do no wrong as far as I was concerned,” Jamie said with a wistful look on his face, his eyes glistening. “Lord, I was a true pest! I followed him everywhere he went, never chased me away. I mimicked everything he did or tried to. He was to be the next Laird, no’ me,” he said with some guilt in his voice. “He woulda been the better choice for it.”
“Why so?”
“He loved the land, the farm. No’ that I don’t, mind ye, but he woulda stayed at Lallybroch. No’ like me. I kent I had something else to do.”
He went on to tell her about playing with Ian his best friend and his sister Jenny. Bossy one she is and a true meddler. Jenny took over the household when Mam died. He told her tales of going fishing in a burn, sword fights with sticks, climbing trees, and a broken arm from falling out of a tree.
“Did I tell ye about the time Ian and I set the barn on fire? Accidental like, ye ken?” He looked rather sheepish in the telling. “Weel, it happened just after I turned fifteen.”
“Did ye get it,” I asked anxiously as I grabbed Ian by the arm pulling him into the barn.
“Aye, I did.” Ian looked around making sure that they were alone. He looked nervous.
“We’re alone here ye numpty. Where is it?”
He pulled out a fairly crumpled handkerchief from his jeans pocket. The unwrapped bundle revealed a cigarette, somewhat bent, but intact. A half empty book of matches was withdrawn from his other pocket.
Standing there the two boys looked at the cigarette with great reverence. It was the symbol of their burgeoning manhood. They thought of emulating cool Hollywood icons, Steve McQueen, James Dean, Paul Newman, or Marlon Brando with a cigarette hanging from their lips.
“What if we get caught, Jamie? Our Das will kill us.” Second thoughts raced through Ian’s mind wanting to forget the whole idea.
“Nah, we’re safe here. They’re in the fields and willna be back for a few hours,” he grinned. “Ye watched yer faither smokin’ one. So, how do we do it?”
Sighing, he acquiesced to the plan. “He does something like this.” Ian placed the cigarette in his mouth, letting it dangle trying to look ‘cool’. Instead, he looked like a bird with a worm drooping from its beak. He struck the match and the smell of sulfur floated about the barn. The flame ignited the end turning the tip red and glowing. He took a tentative inhale causing the paper to blacken. The fragrant scent of burning tobacco lifted and borne upon the air current. He choked, coughed, and his eyes began to water. His wame twisted and turned with the collywobbles.
“‘Tis good,” he exclaimed lying, not wanting to look unmanly.
“Ye try.”
Jamie dubiously scrutinized his friend/brother. “Ye dinna look so good.” He took the cigarette afraid to look the coward, took a deep inhale, held his breath, eyes bulging wide, and expelled the blue-grey smoke in one giant cough. He continued to cough, sputter, gag, and felt the bile rise to his throat.
“I dinna ken why anyone would wanna tae do this! It tastes nasty, burns my throat and makes me wanna puke.”
At that moment, the laddies heard the return of their fathers from the fields.
They looked at each other with abject horror on their faces, knowing they would soon be caught.
“Damn it, Jamie. I thought ye said they would be gone for a while.” Ian grabbed the cigarette threw it down trying to stomp on it but did not see where it had dropped.
“He told me they would be gone for about an hour or two! They must have finished early.”
They ran to the barn door just in time to see their fathers cresting the hill.
“Did ye put it out?”
“I dinna ken. I think so. It got buried in the hay.”
“Jamie, lad where are ye? Have ye finished yer chores?” Brian Fraser called out in his deep rumbling voice.
“Och, Brian, ye ken they’re probably off on some mischief.” Auld John chuckled. “Ye ken what they’re...what’s that smell? Like something’s burning.” He raised his long straight nose in the air and began to sniff. His eyes drifted toward the barn. “FIRE!!!!”
All the heads swiveled toward the barn. It was on fire.
“Christ,” Jamie exclaimed looking at the back of the barn where they had just been. “Ian get water, I’ll get the horses out. NOW.”
Ian nodded his head and ran hell-for-leather to find the hose to drag it into the barn.
The horses were stamping, snorting, large heads tossing in agitation, eyes wide rolling wildly in their sockets while trying to break free from their stalls.
Donas, the massive ill-tempered black, gnashed his teeth.
“Sin, na biodh eagal ort a-nis. Tha mi an seo.”
Jamie took his shirt off threw it over the head of the black leading him out of the stall. He ran back leading the other two horses to safety.
Ian had returned with the hose dousing the fire putting it out.
Their fathers had arrived breathless from running to find everything under control.
“Care tae explain this?!”
Squaring his shoulders, standing to his full height and taking a deep breath (while commending his soul to God), Jamie told the truth taking the full blame. “I talked Ian into taking one of his Da’s cigarettes. The blame for everything should rest on me. I’m sorry Da.”
“Ye canna take the whole blame. I had a part in this also. ‘Tis my fault as much as his. I’m sorry too Da.”
Jamie stood with his hands clasped in front of him awaiting judgment and punishment to be pronounced. Likewise, Ian stood straight, hands at his side, ready to hear his sentence like a convict before a judge.
“Bairn, get ye tae the rail. Brian’s hands went to unbuckle his belt.
“Both of ye.” Auld John said in a tone that would brook no argument.
“No. Sir.”
“Defiant too, I see. Whatever has gotten into that thick skull of yers, son? Are ye testing me?” Brian asked his face red with fury.
“No, sir. I am no’ testing ye. I just think that I should be punished as a man, no’ as a boy. I have admitted my wrongdoing, seen the error of it, and willing tae take my punishment as a man would, sir.”
“Oh, ye think ye are a man now? Would a man be as careless and start such a fire, hmm? I think no’. Over tae the fence and let’s get on with it.”
“No, Da. Ye need tae punish me as a man, no’ as a boy.”
The two fathers walked away from the boys to confer with each other.
“Man!” Brian snorted sarcastically. “I’ll gie ye a chance tae prove yer a man. As a man, ye should choose yer own punishment. But, I warn ye, if it is not serious enough ye will be over that fence faster than a thought going between a lad and a lass.”
This was an unexpected turn of events.
Jamie and Ian also went to consult with each other and came back with a plan.
Jamie cleared his throat then began, “We have caused considerable damage tae the barn, so we thought we could repair whatever was destroyed in the fire on our free-time after school and weekends. We’ll clean out the old storage shed tae make room for the horses tae stay until the barn is repaired and we’ll take care of the horses, feeding, watering, grooming them, and mucking out the shed. In addition to our regular chores.”
“Ye ken that means ye have to give up yer after-school activities and sports.”
“Aye, Da we ken. We want tae prove we are responsible for our actions and make amends. We’ll explain to coach why we canna participate.”
The two young men stood patiently awaiting the acceptance or rejection of their proposed punishment.
Their fathers looked at each other and smiled.
“Get ye gone, lad. Tell your sister that four men are hungry for their supper.”
Jamie turned to look at his Sassenach after telling her this tale.
"Strange, the things you remember. The people, the places, the moments in time burned into your heart forever, while others fade into the mist. I've always known I would live a life different from other men. When I was a lad, I saw no path to take in front of me. I simply took a step and then another. Moving ever forward, ever onward. Rushing towards someplace, I kent not where. Then one day, I turned around and looked back. I realized that each step I'd taken was a choice. To go left, to go right, to go forward, or maybe no’ go at all. Every day, every man has to make a choice between right and wrong, between love and hate, and even between life and death. And the sum of those choices becomes your life. The day I realized that I became a man.”
There was a faraway look on his sweet face, seeing memories of a time long gone.
“My Da was a strict man, but fair. That day I saw him bend and it made me mindful of what it meant to be a man. A man is one who cares for his family, his community, his friends, his land. He takes responsibility for his actions every day of his life. From that day, I kent I wanted to be just like him. I took things more serious like after that day.”
Jamie paused in telling his story drawing Claire to him gathering the strength to continue from her nearness.
“It...It was after my parents and Willie deaths that I decided to become a doctor. I thought I should do something to help other people, ye ken. Since my heart was broken, I thought I would become a heart surgeon so I could fix other people’s broken hearts and give them a second chance. Does this make sense tae ye, Claire?”
“Perfect sense.”
His hands went to her waist, pulling her even closer to him anchoring himself to her. He rested his chin on the top of her wooly cap. “Do ye think me becoming a doctor and helping people is what my Mam meant about doing something important that would affect a lot of people?”
“I don’t know if she knew you would become a doctor, Jamie but you help so many people because you are. That is something important. The one thing that I do know is she would be so proud of you.”
“Thank ye, Sassenach, for listening.” He clasped her close to him feeling her love permeate out into him warming him to the bone.
He kissed her tenderly on the lips then gave her a little push back looking into her warm amber eyes.
“Enough about me. What about ye, my Sassenach, what was it like growin’ up for ye?”
Claire reciprocated in kind. Telling him of her Travels with Lamb. She laughed saying she always thought that maybe it should be the title of a book. Besides Lamb, there was Firouz, a manservant in her uncle’s employ. Far from being just a steward, Firouz became a beloved second uncle.
Her uncle undertook her education with Claire studying by lamplight each night. On her own, she learned enough of the local language and customs which allowed her to play with the village children. She also learned how to do many things not normally suited for a young lady of gentle birth, digging latrines, hauling water, building campfires, cataloging artifacts, and generally helping her uncle with his excavations.
The trio traveled the world together. India, Egypt, Peru, Mexico were by far the most frequented archeological sites. There once was a summer spent in Paris, while Lamb helped organize an exhibition at the Louvre.
“When I first went with my uncle I was five years old. Poor Firouz, he more or less became my nanny. I spent all my time with him whilst my uncle worked in the field.”
“Come little one! We must hurry to the market before the Aljaddat buy everything. If we do not get there soon, whatever is left will not even be fit for the dogs.”
The child’s legs were no match for the long graceful strides of the man. So, she simply gave up and sat down in the dirt road in her pretty pink dress, white pinafore, white ankle socks with lace trim, and black mary jane shoes. The dust and sand blew around her, covering her in a fine layer of dirt. Her face was gritty, and her curly hair a magnet for grim. The road traffic, braying donkeys and bleating goats, people on foot, children running amongst the animals and pedestrians, passed around her without so much as a glance. No one paid attention to the strange forlorn little girl sitting on the ground.
The man continued to talk believing that the child remained at his side. He stopped when she did not answer him and froze. He looked around and she was gone. Where did she go? Firouz, fearing the worst, began to run quickly retracing his steps only to find her sitting waif-like in the road. He ran to her picked her up cradling her to him. He ran his hands over her, checking her for any obvious sign of injury. Thank Allah, she was sound.
“What were you doing, child? Why were you sitting there?”
“I couldn’t walk that fast.” She looked up at his face speaking in a tiny tremulous voice, “I thought you left me too.” Claire buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing.
‘You are a foolish man, Firouz’, he berated himself. ‘She is so small, how could she keep up with you? And after everything that has happened to her? You must be more careful.’ He felt guilty for almost losing the Professor’s niece. But he was a bachelor in the service of a bachelor. What did he know of children, especially a little girl?
“Do not cry Aziz, I will never leave you.” He wiped her face with the sleeve of his tunic. “Let us go to the market, I will carry you.”
“My name is Claire, not Az...Azz”
“Aziz, little one. To me you are Aziz.”
“What does that mean, Aziz?”
“It means beloved.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled.
“Come, let us go, before there is nothing left, only food not even fit for the dogs.”
Claire, snuggled against him and gave a little giggle.
Five Years Later -
“Come onnnn, Uncle Firouz, what is taking you so loooong?” Claire now age ten, ran ahead of her Uncle. She was indistinguishable from the other street urchins, dressed in loose white gallabya decorated with colorful embroidery and a floppy hat on her head. The sun had kissed her once porcelain skin turning it a warm golden brown. Her hair glowed with strands of gold, copper, and auburn scattering amid her dark brown curls. The child was thriving and happy, Firouz thought and was pleased. Although, there were moments when he could still see terrible sadness in those remarkable topaz eyes.
Claire ran back to her Uncle grabbed his hand pulling him toward the market. “Uncle Firouz if we don’t hurry then the Aljaddat will buy the best and ...”
“We will get what is not fit even for the dogs,” he said with a laugh. “You do pay attention, Aziz.”
Claire’s shining eyes looked up at him with affection, “Yes, Uncle I do.”
Claire ran amongst the stalls picking, choosing, and bargaining just as her Uncle had taught her. It amused him to watch her haggle, hands on her hips, pretending that the quality of the merchandise was poor and negotiating for a better price. She was an amazing child this child of his heart.
After purchasing what they needed, they walked to a cafe where her guardian would sit and take coffee with a friend.
“You have done well Aziz and earned a treat.” He reached into a pocket gave her some coins. “Go and buy yourself something. But do not be long, we must get back to the camp.” He touched her cheek tenderly, “Now shoo.”
To Claire, the bazaar was a magical place. The sights, the sounds, the smells that wafted around her enticed her to come nearer much as a moth dangerously circled close to a flame. All the tents, shops, and stalls were decorated with colorful pennants and banners, blue, red, yellow, green, offsetting the drab desert colors of neverending orange-yellow sand and dreary beige landscapes. Flags swayed gently in the breeze beckoning her forward like a finger curling in temptation. Many of the shopkeepers knew her by name and called to her hawking their wares.
She didn’t know what to do with her few coins. Should she buy herself a treat of some candy or a sweet bun? Perhaps she should save it as Lamb’s birthday was near and she wanted to get him a little present.
She wandered the maze of the marketplace, looking at this and that but finding nothing she wanted. Suddenly a gust of wind rose up around her carrying a spicy, herbal smell on the air that she had never noticed before. The aroma pulled at her with an almost mystical proportion weaving around her transporting her to it. She followed the fragrance to a tent where a woman was busy grinding something. She shyly crept forward watching the woman work.
“Do you wish to watch, child?”
Claire nodded. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making medicines.”
“Why?”
“Because some people come to me for help when they are sick.”
“But there are doctors and hospitals for that.”
“Some people prefer the old ways, the more natural ways, and sometimes people cannot afford to go to doctors or hospitals. So, they come to me.”
Inching closer, she peered into the bowl. She wrinkled her nose at the unfamiliar odor.
“These are coriander seeds.”
“What’s it for?”
“It can be used for many things. Like relieving pain and stiffness in joints, headaches, stomach aches, like when you eat too many sweets!” The woman tickled Claire’s belly and laughed broadly showing a number of missing teeth.
“Would you like to try?”
Her head nodded vigorously.
Pulling up a stool for Claire to kneel on, she began to show her how to grind and crush with a mortar and pestle. They laughed at some of the seeds escaping over the rim of the bowl.
The sound of grinding and scraping filled the little enclosure. The healer showed her novice different herbs and spices explaining what each was used for and how to make tisanes and ointments with each.
A great shadow darkened the entrance, “What are you doing with my niece, witch?” said a deep male voice brusquely.
“I am not a witch!!” the woman spurted out angrily. “It is always the same. Women who have knowledge of healing are condemned as witches.”
Claire looked from her Uncle to her new friend in complete confusion. “Uncle, she was only showing…”
“Enough, Aziz, we must be going. It is getting late.” Firouz spoke more sharply than he had intended.
“Yes, young one, it is late. You must go back with your Uncle.”
“Will I see you again?”
The woman looked at Firouz who scowled fiercely at her. “No, child, I will be gone by the morning.” Carefully, so as not to be seen, she slipped a small pouch into Claire’s hand and whispered, “Something to remember me by. Do not show it to anyone. It will help you when you heal.”
Claire gave a little nod, slipped it into a pocket murmuring thank you.
“We are leaving Aziz. Come.” Firouz took her small hand in his large one guiding her out of the shelter.
“Why were you so upset, Uncle? She was just teaching me her ways of healing. It was interesting.”
“Aziz, women like her are often looked upon as witches. The villagers might think of you in the same way if they see you with her. It could only bring trouble for you if they do. I only want to protect you, my precious girl,” he said with a sad smile.
That night Claire spoke with her Uncle Lamb about what had happened. He thought it all stuff and nonsense as he did not share the villagers’ superstitions.
“Claire, the most important thing you need to learn, even though we do not share their beliefs, it is to respect them.”
“Even if their beliefs are wrong, Uncle?”
“Even if they are wrong. You must remember, my heart, that these people have never been more than a day’s ride away from where they were born. They live in small villages, and among the oases. They don’t know anything else other than the superstitions and beliefs that have been passed down over the centuries. It is hard to blame them as they don’t know any better or different.
“But shouldn’t we tell them it’s wrong?”
Lamb considered for a moment what to say, “My precious girl, you have a kind heart, this I know and you would like to help people, but changing long-held beliefs takes a very, very long time to take place. It can happen, but not as quickly as you or I would like. Have faith that someday it will come about.”
“That was the lady’s name...Iman. She told me it means to be faithful.”
He pulled his niece onto his lap, cuddling her close to his heart. “I love you my Claire, you are my heart’s own child.” He kissed the top of her curly head.
Lamb sat in quiet contemplation before speaking again.
“Firouz, I think we should encourage Claire’s interest in healing. What do you say?”
“As you wish, Professor.”
“There is one proviso, my dear girl, and that is if Firouz or I think you should not go to visit one of these healers, you will obey our instructions.” Lamb raised an inquiring eyebrow to her.
“I’ll listen to you and Uncle Firouz. I promise. Thank you, Uncles.” Claire snuggled into Lamb’s chest, feeling safe and loved.
“As we traveled to different countries, I spent time with the local healer, herbalists, shaman, or curanderos learning how they healed the sick and what herbs they used. I think that Iman set me on my path to becoming a healer, a doctor that afternoon.”
“I have one question for ye Sassenach, what was in the pouch?”
“Ah, well there was dried mint and thyme leaves, coriander seeds, and a small uncut, unpolished sapphire. Sapphires help to channel healing energy from one person to another. Very essential for any healer to have, wouldn’t you say. I kept the pouch in memory of Iman, my first medical teacher. The herbs are all dust now, but the sapphire is still there.”
“Yer a verra fine doctor, Sassenach. Iman would be proud.”
Claire kept her arms wrapped around her Scot, holding him close, resting her head on his chest.
“Thank you, Jamie, for always being there for me.” Standing on her toes she reached up and tenderly kiss him. She relaxed into his embrace feeling loved and cared for.
They stood holding each other within the sanctuary of their cocoon enjoying the warm feelings from sharing parts of their life story with each other.
Their heads rose listening to the stramash slowly headed their way. A voice carried on the swell of the air currents. It sounded like a woman scolding someone, scolding, a child. The voice sounded familiar. It carried a certain lilt to it. Scottish.
“Rabbie, ye wee gomeral! Dinna stick yer brother’s head in the snow, aye. He canna breathe in there.”
The figures drew closer, a man and a woman, an elderly couple. Accompanying them were two children, two boys and rambunctious ones at that. Always one with a good eye for detail, Jamie was certain he had met the couple before. The man had a jaunty set to his cap, a commanding height, and the spectacles were placed on the tip of his nose. The woman also was tall, but not as tall as the man, grey hair, and had a certain fullness of figure, grandmother-like.
“Sassenach, ‘tis Harry and Maizie from the plane. I dinna think we would ever see them again,” he said a wide smile playing across his sweet mouth.
Jamie raised his arm waving it furiously loudly calling out, “mo charaid.”
***********
Oh, Jamie! I saw it happen. Those little buggers. It was a drive-by snowballing. They ran off that way. -- I adapted this from the movie Mrs. Doubtfire and the drive-by fruiting. RIP Robin Williams
Sin, na biodh eagal ort a-nis. Tha mi an seo -- Hush, don’t be afraid. I am here now.
Aljaddat -- Grandmothers
Aziz -- Beloved
Gallabya -- is a traditional Egyptian garment native to the Nile Valley.
Claire held her mother’s hand tightly as they walked in the door of the small cottage. She looked around at the cozy interior -- a fireplace lit in the corner, shelves lined with books, a kitchen where meals were shared, and from what Claire could see through a window, a small garden out back.
It wasn’t grand or fancy, but as soon as Claire stepped in she felt that she was home. For all her life she had longed to be with her parents and to know them. And now she was in their home and soon would be reunited with her father.
The only thing Claire found a little odd was that her father was now only a few years older than Jamie. But in her heart, she felt like that little five year old girl who had just been told her parents were dead. Children usually never got a chance to see their parents so young or to see them first as people and learn about the things that made them who they are. To her parents, Claire had been a small girl who they had left back in England and now here she was -- a full grown woman with a husband of her own.
“Henry!” Julia called out and a noise of shuffling feet and books being set down came from the back of the cottage.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Henry replied and then he was there, walking down the hallway. His hair was dark and sticking up at the ends as if he’d been running his fingers through it. A pair of glasses were on the tip of his nose and he was wearing the typical eighteenth century dress for a man.
“Henry,” Julia smiled and kissed him in greeting, never letting go of Claire’s hand. “I have someone I’d like to reintroduce you to.”
Her father looked at her then for the first time, taking in her appearance -- curly brown hair, amber eyes like her mother’s.
“This is Claire, darling,” Julia smiled softly at her husband. Henry’s face changed from an expression of mild curiosity to complete shock.
“Claire?” He spoke, taking a step forward. “Our Claire?”
“Yes, Papa…” Claire smiled, “I’m your daughter.”
Henry moved his hand to cup her cheek and Claire’s eyes closed shut as she leaned against his hand. Then she felt him move and suddenly it was all simple -- his arms were around her and she buried her head into his chest and wept for the peace she felt in her heart.
“I can’t believe it’s really you, Claire bear.” Henny pulled back and took one of her hands in his and then held Julia’s hand. They stood in a small circle, connected as one family.
“There’s a lot to explain,” Claire smiled, squeezing both her parents hands. “But to explain everything, there’s someone else you need to meet first.”
“Who, darling?” Henry asked and then his eyes moved over the top of Claire’s head to look behind her as Jamie appeared in the doorway.
Claire followed his gaze and turned to face Jamie. She left her father and her mother and stood next to Jamie, sliding her hand in his. “This is my husband, Jamie Fraser.”
“That’s part of the long story,” Claire smiled amused.
“You two can explain it to me while we share a dram of whisky, I think we all need it,” Henry returned the smile, “But first, you come here,” He hugged his daughter again, holding her close.
Claire felt the worry and doubt about seeing her father again leave her mind and relaxed in his arms. They parted, smiling and with fresh tears in their eyes and Henry went to the kitchen to grab glasses for them all.
Gathered around the fire, Claire and Jamie went on to recall their tales to Henry. From Jamie’s travel to the 20th century to then, ending up in the wrong time in search of her parents. They told him everything.
Nodding, Henry listened carefully to his daughter. He was still incredulous to have his daughter, grown no less, in this house but he watched her with the most utter tenderness and admiration,
“Those stones never work the way we expect them to,” He sighed, taking a sip of whisky.
“But surely, there is a way to go through again, we know Jamie has done it twice,” Claire stated, leaning against her husband, “We don’t even know what to do now...Do we stay here or do we go back to the 20th century? Or even, do we stay in this century but back to the year we first planned to land on?”
“You can’t stay here, Claire. You don’t belong in this century, at least not in 1716,” Julia touched her shoulder, smiling sadly.
“And Jamie doesn’t belong in the 20th century,” She squeezed his hand, looking at him.
“I’ll do whatever ye want us to do, Claire,” Jamie brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, “No matter where ye go, I go.”
“I guess we can’t really stay here in this time anyways, because soon Ellen and Brian will give birth to a beautiful red headed baby name Jamie,” Claire grinned. “I think we already know what we have to do.”
“I only wish you both could come with us,” Claire said as she looked at both her parents.
“I wish it too, love. But if Jamie says he saw us in his own time, grey hair and all, then we must not be able to travel through the stones again,” Henry frowned. “We’ve missed so much of your life already.”
“You both will have to wait nearly thirty years to see us again,” Claire said and her heart dropped in her stomach. If they made it to 1743, then her parents would be thirty years older than they were now.
“You waited twenty years to see us again, Claire. We can manage, as long as we know we’ll see you then,” Julia smiled and reached for her hand.
“You both need to make sure Jamie’s parents and siblings will be fine, too.”
“I already promised you we would,” Julia smiled, “Truly, we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the Frasers are alright.”
“Thank ye, truly,” Jamie nodded.
“And you will take care of our Claire in return,” Henry patted his arm.
“Aye, I promise,” Smiling, the Scot looked at his wife, eyes full of love.
“But you two don’t have to leave just yet,” Julia watched them, “Stay a few days, maybe a few weeks and then we will bring you both to the stones ourselves.”
“That sounds wonderful, Mama,” Claire smiled and then looked at Jamie who nodded in agreement.
“You two will be staying in our spare room, it’s not much though,” Julia smiled and stood to her feet, gesturing to the back of the cottage.
“It’s perfectly fine,” Claire grinned and rose, following her down the narrow hallway. She walked past paintings of birds and scenery but her eye stopped on a portrait of a family. A mother, a father and a little girl. Thinking she had seen that picture before, Claire reached into her small bag and pulled out the picture she had of her with her parents.
“Is this us?” Claire said as she held up the identical photo to the portrait on the wall.
Julia turned around and seeing Claire had the photograph, nodded and smiled. “We couldn’t hang up a photograph in case we had visitors so we had a painting done that was similar. To remember…”
“I never forgot you,” Claire smiled, her eyes filling with tears again.
“We never forgot you either darling, even if we didn’t have to wait long to see you, you were always in our hearts.” Julia embraced her and then turned back to lead them to their room. It was small, with nothing more than a bed and a dresser.
“If you need anything, please let us know. If you’re hungry, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Julia smiled and then left them alone in the room.
Jamie showed up after a few minutes, holding two glasses of whisky and smiled, “Yer da gave me some more for us to have before bed.”
Sitting on the bed, Claire had started to undo her socks, “I can’t believe we’re really here… With my parents, I’m gonna need that whisky,” She grinned.
Jamie deposited the glasses on the dresser before closing the door and sitting next to her, “Ye dinna ken how beautiful ‘tis to see ye so happy, Sassenach. I’ve never seen ye smiling so much.”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you in the first place,” She cupped his cheek, “First you stumbled in my life when I thought I had nothing and since then, I’ve been on a little cloud.”
“On a cloud? ‘Tis dangerous, mo nighean donn,” He grinned, kissing the tip of her nose.
“Well yes, I reckon being on a cloud isn’t practical nor particularly safe but that was just a metaphor,” She chuckled, hugging him.
Jamie kissed the top of her head, “Then I’m on a cloud too.”
“So,” She looked up at him, “We’ll stay here for a few weeks and then we’ll try and go back to 1743?”
“Aye,” He brought her hand to his lips, “Hopefully it works this time.”
“Yes, hopefully...Though, as long as I’m with you, I know I’ll be just fine,” Claire let herself fall back on the bed, pulling him down with her. “We should go to bed.”
“To bed or to sleep?” His lips found the delicate skin of her neck while one of his hand removed her sock.
“Well…” She looked at him, a mischievous glint floating in her whisky eyes.
“In yer parents house, Sassenach?” Jamie grinned all while sliding his hand up her thigh. She squirmed on the bed when his hand reached its destination between her legs.
“I promise to be quiet,” she whispered.
“Ye? Quiet?” Jamie laughed and kissed her deeply. He parted her thighs, sliding his hands over her smooth skin. Claire assisted in bunching up the layers of his kilt and took firm hold of his cock, greedily bringing it to her slit.
“Then you’ll have to make me be quiet,” Claire grabbed one of his hands and moved it over her mouth. Jamie moaned above her as her tongue snaked out against his palm.
In one fluid motion, he was inside of her and they both let out a soft sigh as their bodies came together. With one hand over her mouth and her tongue flicking against his skin, Jamie began to thrust powerfully, his hips flexing.
“Mmmm,” Claire moaned under his hand and he gave her a look which only made her bite down on the flesh of his palm.
“Sassenach,” Jamie groaned and then leaned down, replacing his hand with his lips and rolled his hips again and again until Claire was moaning into his mouth. He captured each and every sound between his lips and held her body as she tensed around him. With her hands on his arse, urging him deeper, Jamie cursed under his breath and followed her over the edge.
He rolled onto his side, keeping her leg around his waist, tracing her lips with his finger.
“Was I quiet?” Claire whispered before kissing him.
“Too quiet,” he tried to wink. “Next time, I want to hear ye scream, mo nighean donn.”
*******
“I’m going to the village with my mother, will you be alright alone here with my father?”
“Och, of course I will, sassenach!”
“We won’t be long, we just need some herbs,” Claire smiled.
“Take all the time ye need, I told yer father I would help fix the fence wi’ him,” Jamie rubbed her back.
“Alright then,” Claire sealed their lips, “Do you need anything from the village?”
“Nay, just that ye come back,” his eyes crinkled.
“That can be managed,” Claire nodded happily.
“Good,” He winked -- or tried to, “See ye in a bit, mo nighean donn.”
Claire left with her mother to go into town and Jamie stepped outside to where Henry was already down on his knees, attempting to fix a hole in the fence.
“Come over here, lad,” Henry looked at him with a smile. “I’ve been telling Julia I’ll fix this fence for months now, I might as well finally do it while I have some skilled hands under my roof.”
“I’m no promising it’ll be mended well,” Jamie said humbly.
“We’ll see,” Henry laughed and the two men set to work. It didn’t take too much effort from the both of them and in no time, the fence was mended and looking better than new.
“Thanks lad,” Henry clapped him on the back and started to clean up the tools.
“Sir, I was wonderin’ if I could speak to ye about a matter?” Jamie said a bit nervously.
“I know I’m Claire’s father but given the circumstances and the fact we’re almost the same age, you can call me Henry,” The Englishman grinned, “What is the matter?”
“I ken yer daughter and I are married but ‘tis wasn’t a proper ceremony before a priest, we handfasted and I was wonderin’ if ye would allow me to marry her properly?”
“Of course, lad. I’ve seen the way Claire looks at you and the way you look at her, I couldn’t refuse that.”
“Thank ye, truly! I promise to protect her, to see that she is safe, always,” Jamie nodded, his heart beating fast.
“You’re a great lad, James Fraser, I’m glad my daughter chose you and not some old bore,” Henry laughed, clapping him on the back.
“I’m glad she chose me too, ye can trust me on that,” Jamie grinned. “She’s a feisty lass, yer daughter, she keeps me on my toes.”
“She takes after her mother, at least it will keep us young,” Henry laughed.
Claire almost fainted when her eyes met the ones of the healer’s. For the longest time, she had tried to imagine what her mother in the flesh would be like. She had known it, of course, but at only five when she last saw her, she had forgotten anything tangible about Julia Beauchamp. She had photographs but it wasn’t the same.
They looked almost identical. Same eyes, lips, and high cheekbones. Except Julia’s curls were tightly pinned down and her nose was slightly straighter than her daughter’s.
Claire felt Jamie’s hand grabbing hers as he too realized who had arrived and she squeezed it.
“Mistress Beauchamp,” Ellen smiled widely, “Thank ye for comin’!”
Claire’s breath hitched at the sound of the name -- a confirmation, for sure how many Beauchamp's were there in Scotland?
“I’m glad I made it before the bairn,” Julia smiled, trying to hide her state of shock as best as she could.
“Aye, dinna fash. I told ye last time Frasers take their wee time,” She chuckled, looking at her husband.
Nodding, Julia couldn’t take her eyes off Claire. Something that Ellen noticed immediately, “Och, where are my manners! ‘Tis Elizabeth and Alexander Malcolm, our guests for a while.”
Jamie stepped in, with a polite smile, “Ma’am.”
“Hello,” Julia replied, smiling in turn before looking at Claire again, “Hi…”
Claire blinked, feeling five years old all over again. She was fighting the urge to cry and to hold her mother tightly. The woman standing in front of her was a stranger and yet, there was something so familiar about her -- as if they had parted only minutes ago. Claire watched her with such gratitude and love and had the feeling returned in abundance without a need to even ask for it.
Before Claire had the time to answer, Ellen chimed in, “Mistress Malcolm is a healer too, Mistress Beauchamp!”
“She looks like a healer,” Julia smiled fondly, “And a good one, at that. I’m sure she will be very helpful for the birth.”
“Oh, aye!” Ellen smiled. Claire knew she had noticed the resemblance but didn’t comment on it, it was clear enough that there was some family connection between the two from their appearance alone but she thanked God any of the Frasers said a word about it.
“You should be resting, Mistress Fraser,” Julia touched her arm. “I know my way around here, I’ll manage and you call me if you need anything? I would like to talk with Mistress Malcolm, it’s not every day I meet a fellow healer.”
“Mistress Beauchamp is right,” Brian said, wrapping a protective arm around his wife, “Come, mo ghraidh, I’ll bring ye inside.”
“Aye, aye,” Ellen smiled, “See ye all later, then.”
Ellen and Brian went back into the house and once they had disappeared out of ear range, Julia turned to Claire. Jamie pressed his lips against Claire’s temple and sensing she needed a moment alone with her mother, Jamie left them and headed towards the small stable.
“It’s so lovely to meet you Mistress Beauc --”
“Is it you?” Julia interrupted her, placing her hand on Claire’s arm gently.
“It’s really you then, mama?” Claire smiled and the tears that she had been holding in spilled over her cheeks. A second later, Julia was embracing her and Claire stood there, feeling small and childlike in her mother’s arms.
They held onto each other for a time, as if every second was making up for each year they lost together. Julia pulled back first and her hands immediately cupped Claire’s cheeks, her thumbs wiping away the tears.
“You are so beautiful, Claire. I knew it was you the moment I saw you,” Julia smiled.
“I knew it was you too, I had the one picture of you and papa… I can’t believe you’re here, I -- I thought you to be dead.”
“You found us…”Julia whispered, holding Claire again. “I’m so sorry, my love. For all the pain you must have felt.” Julia then looked at Claire, a sorrowful look crossed her eyes, “Can you ever forgive us, Claire?”
“Forgive you?” Claire frowned. “There’s nothing to forgive, mama. You had no way of telling me you didn’t die but actually went through standing stones,” Claire laughed and wiped at her nose.
“You can tell me though…” Claire’s stomach clenched, “Did you choose to leave?”
Julia took both of her hands and looked her in the eyes, “Yes. Yes, we did. But we always planned to return to you, Claire bear.”
“Why did you leave, there must have been a good reason…” Claire asked. Julia smiled sadly and then guided them over to sit on a nearby bench.
“Henry, your father,” Julia smiled brightly, “Well, I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the Jacobite Rising of 1745, but your father studied and wrote books about it. He was drawn to it. You see, despite our very French last name,” she laughed. “Our family history can be traced through Scottish roots, which only made him even more interested.”
“It’s all a bit complicated dear, but the gist of it is that we wanted to go back to 1744 and try and stop the rising from ever happening.” Claire listened intently, trying her best to recall any history lessons Lamb had taught her.
“The Scots lost at the Battle of Culloden and everything about the Highland culture was decimated. Your father and I had been aware the time travel was possible and we thought we could do our part in history.”
“But you didn’t go back to 1744 if you’re here… in 1716,” Claire noted.
“No,” Julia smiled. “We went too far, to the year 1714 and we tried to go back,” Julia gripped Claire’s hand tightly. “Back to you, but we’ve been stuck ever since.”
“But if you’ve been here for two years...how come twenty years went on for me back in the 20th century?” Claire was confused, all those maths giving her a headache.
“Time travel is a funny thing, obviously your father and I don’t have it all figured it out,” Julia smiled sadly. “All I know is that you’re here right now and you have no idea how happy I am to see you...I never thought I would again.”
“Well, neither did I,” Claire sighed and smiled.
“But how did you know we were here?”
“It’s quite a long story. Back in 1940, there had been a World War, the second one actually and I served as a nurse for five years. After that, I was alone and decided to go to Scotland to start anew, it felt as if the Highlands were the only place slightly spared of those atrocities. I bought a house,” Claire turned around looking at the estate, “It was this one.”
Julia watched her daughter, listening to her with rapt attention as she held her hand tightly.
Claire continued, “One afternoon the tall ginger Scot you saw earlier showed up at my door. He was hurt and disoriented, I quickly found out he was from the year 1743. I told him I would help him get back to his time once his shoulder injury would heal. One day, he told me about the healer in his village who looked exactly like me. When I showed him a picture of you and papa, he confirmed you both were back in the 18th century. I think something happened at the stones too because obviously, we ended up in the wrong time and now we’re here...where you are slightly younger than what Jamie or myself expected.”
“So we’re in 1743 too,” Julia frowned, “Maybe we do make it through the stones after all. Good God, I will never understand any of this. Your father might though, we’ll ask once we’ll get to him. We live in the village but he will be so happy to see you,” She cupped her cheek, smiling.
“I would like to properly meet this tall ginger Scot,” Julia smiled and they both rose to walk over to the stables.
“Ellen and Brian are his parents, but he just hasn’t been born yet. And they think his name is Alexander.”
“Good God, this is complicated,” Julia laughed.
“Oh… and mama?” Claire bit her lip nervously. “There’s something else you should know about me and Jamie.”
“What is it dear?”
“We’re married.”
Julia looked at her daughter, a little shocked. “Married. Well… that is certainly not what I was expecting you to say, but if it’s a happy marriage then I wholeheartedly approve my dear.”
“It is,” Claire smiled and they met Jamie who was standing next to a black horse, his hand slowly stroking its mane.
“I have to admit we did marry so I would be protected in this time but…” Claire bit her lower lip, “I’m very much in love with him.”
“He looks like a good lad and the Frasers are great people, I’m sure they raised him well.” Julia smiled, “And quite a bonny lad,” she winked.
“Sassenach,” Jamie smiled and greeted them both.
“I’ve told her everything, Jamie,” Claire slid into his embrace, leaning on him for comfort. This day had already been very emotionally draining.
“Then ye’ll ken Mrs. Beauchamp how confused we are as well to be here,” Jamie smiled.
“We’re here together, now though,” Julia touched Jamie’s arm lightly and then looked at her daughter. “That’s all that matters.”
She then coughed and took a step back, “I do know how odd this is… us being the same age, but I hope it isn’t too weird.”
“You look just as you did in the picture mama,” Claire smiled. “I don’t know you any other way.”
“Good then. I should be here for a few days until the bairn is born and then if you like, you can both accompany me to the village to see your father?” Julia said hopeful.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Claire smiled hugging her mother.
Brian Fraser stormed out of the house in a hurry, his eyes wide, “Mistress Beauchamp! Mistress Malcolm! The bairn is comin’!”
