In Search of the Past (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #2) (27 page)

Stacey’s mom and grandmothers were taking care of the wedding plans. Grandy said, “I’ve never seen a girl more disinterested in her own wedding.”

“Well, that’s what happens when a girl sleeps with a man before they marry. All the mystic is gone,” Gram Flemming said.

In March, Gram came with sewing machine in hand for Stacey to try on her mother’s wedding dress. There were no alterations necessary. It fit like it was made for her. “You must remember Mother, I was about Stacey’s size when I married Sam.”

Stacey could hardly wait for spring break. Two whole weeks with Shane, plus they would be visiting his family in Scotland. She hoped Shane’s mother still liked her as much as she had in February. Stacey had asked her mother, “What happened at the wedding? Shane and I noticed you and his mom seemed very cool to one another. We couldn’t imagine why.”

“I have no idea,” Jessie said. “The woman looked at me as if I wasn’t good enough to wipe her boots. I hope she doesn’t come to the wedding with that attitude.”

“Mom, I can’t imagine Elizabeth McLeod in boots,” Stacey said, and started laughing.

“Neither can I,” Jessie said. Now they both were laughing.

When spring break arrived, Stacey was packed and ready for two romantic weeks with Shane. Stacey knew he would still have to work at the hospital, but the nights would be theirs.

She heard on the news, that the concord was going to discontinue flights to the states, but didn’t hear when. She hoped not until after the wedding.

Stacey’s mom drove her to the airport. “It seems in the last year we’ve almost lived in this place,” Jessie said.

“Two more months and the trips up here will be much less,” Stacey said.

“Don’t remind me, my only child will be living in England.”

“You can always come visit, especially when I have our babies.” 

“Are you gonna’ get in a hurry on that, darling?” 

“Yes we are, by the time our kids are in college, Shane will be in his middle fifties or sixties. If we wanna’ enjoy our grandchildren, then it’s not something we can wait on too long.”

“Stacey, you never cease to amaze me. Before you met Shane, I would’ve put my money on you being a career woman.  I know you’re crazy about little Brandon, but you’ve never acted the mommy type. You wouldn’t even play with dolls when you were little.”

“I know,” Stacey said as she smiled at her mom. “I’ve always been a tomboy. I still am, but now I’m a woman in love too.”

“Yes darling, I know.  It shows every time you two look at each other.”

“Good, cause we’re going to have a marriage like you and Dad. Ya’ll are our role model. Shane’s mom and dad have a good marriage too, I believe. His grandmother and grandfather did for sure, she talks to me about their life together a lot. She said talking to me about it brings back such good memories. I’m so glad she feels that way.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Shane’s grandmother. She sounds like a wonderful person. And I know you love her already, by the way you talk about her.”

“Yes, I do, Mom. She’s a fine lady. I’ll get to see her this time, Shane and I are going up to Scotland for a weekend.”

Stacey’s flight was called. She kissed her mom goodbye and boarded the plane.

The Rescue

S
tacey arrived in London at two a.m. Saturday. Their passion for one another was as strong as it had ever been.  They still ran to each other in the airport.  They spent all day Saturday making up for lost time.  On Sunday they had tea at four with Hugh and Annie. They were so much in love, like typical newly weds they held hands and smiled at each other. Sometimes they seemed oblivious to other people around. Stacey didn’t ask, but wondered, did she and Shane act that way too.

Later at the flat, Stacey was unpacking when she remembered she’d brought the family history book.  She showed Shane the back pages, but the names meant nothing to him. 

“I’m sure I saw some of these names last August when I was looking through your grandmother’s book.”

“So, you think we’re related?” Shane asked, with a smirk.

“Not really, even if we had a common ancestor somewhere in the past, it would be so far back it wouldn’t matter gene wise, but DNA wise, would be very interesting.”

Shane took the book from Stacey, as he laid her back on the bed and said, “Let’s do a little research of our own.”  Soon the book was forgotten.  Everything was, except their love and need for each other.  Monday morning found them both groggy with sleep. When the alarm went off, Stacey made her way to the kitchen and Shane to the shower. She knew when Shane left she was going back to bed until Mrs. Wyatt arrived.

Stacey had just dozed off when the phone rang. It was Mrs. Wyatt calling, “Mrs. McLeod, I’m so sorry, to be sure. I’ve somehow come down with a wretched cold and I won’t be able look after you and the doctor for a few days. To be sure, I’m most sorry.”

Stacey assured her, “We’ll be fine Mrs. Wyatt, don’t give it a second thought. You just take it easy and get well. I’ll look after doctor McLeod.”

Shane had a heavy load of patients and surgeries. Many times they were performed in other hospitals. On Tuesday Shane called, “Stacey, sweetheart, I must fly to Paris as a neuron consultant, do you fancy to come along?” 

“No, Shane, but thank you for asking.  I know you’ll be busy and I don’t want you distracted by worrying about me.  I’ll be right here when you get back.  Do you want me to pack you a bag and bring it to the hospital?”

“Yes, please sweetheart, two changes will do fine. I should be back sometime on Thursday,” Shane said.

Stacey packed his bag and took it to the hospital. She arrived just in time. A helicopter had been sent for Shane. “Who’s the patient?” Stacey asked.

“I have no idea, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

Jestingly, Stacey said, “They better send you back, or I’ll come looking for you.  I’ve watched James Bond movies, you know.”

“That’s my girl,” Shane said, smiling as he kissed her bye and ran to board the helicopter.

On Wednesday, Stacey went to visit Annie. She wanted to tell her the news, that professor Webster had e-mailed her with news about Dun-Raven castle. He had dug up some obscure information about the castle and was going to fax it to her. Hugh came in as she was leaving. “I hear that husband of yours has run off to Paris.”

“Yes, he has, but he’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Who was the, big wig, he went to see?”

“I don’t know, how do you know he’s wealthy?”

“They don’t send a private helicopter for someone if they aren’t,” Hugh said.

“Do you want to eat with us?” Annie asked.

“No thank you. I wanna’ be home when the fax comes in from Mark.”

After Stacey left, Hugh asked, “Who in the devil is Mark?”

“He’s a history professor, that’s helping Stacey with her search of the past.”

Stacey was absorbed with the information Mark Webster had faxed to her about Dun-Raven castle. Stacey was overcome with sorrow as she read:
Dun-Raven castle, was erected in eleven—thirty—six as a motte and bailey castle by the first earl of Dun-Raven, Rollo Fitz-Morgan who was alleged to be brother or cousin to William the conqueror. The castle had withstood scrimmages and attacks over the years until the war of the roses. When Richard III, lost his life in the year fourteen-eighty-five, Dun-Raven castle was at its lowest ebb. The Fitz-Morgan family line had died out and there was no longer a strong force to man the castle. Over the years the castle was dismantled and the stones of the proud castle were carted away to build monasteries and homes of the elite. Many castles in the north would meet a similar fate.

Stacey could hardly wait to share her news with Shane, then she realized and became concerned that she hadn’t heard from him on Wednesday or Thursday. Stacey tried to reach him, but no answer. She slept very little on Thursday night. Friday morning Stacey was standing at the door of the hospital director’s office when he arrived. Stacey told him who she was and showed him their marriage license. “Doctor Wilkerson, I haven’t heard from my husband since he left here Tuesday afternoon on a private helicopter, bound for a hospital in Paris.”

Doctor Wilkerson spread his hands and said, “Well young lady, you know how it is with young men in Paris.”

“Don’t even go there,” Stacey warned him. “I’m not stupid and my husband isn’t a philanderer. It should be beneath your dignity to infer such a thing. My husband is a well respected neurosurgeon. Either you tell me where he is and why he hasn’t been able to contact me or I’m gonna’ raise the biggest stink this hospital has ever had. Now the choice is yours.”

Doctor Wilkerson just sat there. He wasn’t sure about this young woman. He had the feeling she wasn’t bluffing, and she was an American. He had heard that Doctor McLeod was engaged to an American, but he hadn’t heard that he was married. The marriage certificate did look genuine.

Stacey watched him while he was thinking. She reached over, took her marriage license and put it back in her hand bag. When she reached the door, she turned and said, “Watch the noon news on the BBC, you and this hospital will be all over it.”  Then she walked out and slammed the door.

Doctor Wilkerson called Doctor Hugh Grant. He knew Doctor McLeod and Doctor Grant were close friends from college and medical school. “Doctor Grant, there was a young woman in my office just now. She said she’s married to Doctor McLeod.”

“Was she tall, slender, auburn hair and quite beautiful?”

“Yes,” Doctor Wilkerson said. “That’s her.  She wants her husband.”

“Doctor Wilkerson, if I were you, I would give him to her.”

“She’s threaten to go to the BBC, but I haven’t the faintest idea of what she is referring to.” Doctor Wilkerson said.

“Well doctor, if that’s all she does, you may be getting off easy. You know she’s from Texas. You really don’t want to muck about with those people.”

Before Stacey reached the outside door a security person stopped her and said, “Doctor Wilkerson would like to speak with you in his office, please.”

When Stacey entered Doctor Wilkerson’s office again, he was on the phone. He smiled and motioned for her to sit down, however, she kept standing.  He was speaking French to a doctor in Paris.  Doctor Wilkerson had no way of knowing that Stacey spoke French.  He told the person on the other end of the line, that it was of the up-most importance that he reach Doctor Shane McLeod.

Stacey was looking at the folder on the desk.  Doctor Wilkerson turned his back to tell the other person to put Doctor McLeod on the phone.  Stacey took her tiny camera from her bag and snapped a photo of the chart.  She took the phone from Doctor Wilkerson and told the person on the other end in French, “I give you fifteen minutes to get my husband on the phone or your bosses chart will be public knowledge.” She hung up the phone and sat down.

“Young woman, do you know with whom you are dealing?” Doctor Wilkerson asked, as he swabbed the perspiration from his brow. 

Stacey flipped the chart with her fingernail and said, “Well I do now. More importantly Doctor Wilkerson, do you know with whom you’re dealing?” 

The phone rang.  Stacey grabbed it before Doctor Wilkerson could. It was Shane. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, they wouldn’t allow any of us an outside line and they confiscated our mobiles.”

“Is your part of this surgery finished?” Stacey asked.

“Yes it is,” Shane replied. 

“Okay,” Stacey said. “put the guy that’s with you on the phone.”

Stacey told the person on the other end in a voice cold as ice. “I’m not going to debate this or repeat it. If my husband isn’t home in three hours, I’ll be sitting in the BBC, with your bosses medical chart.”  Stacey hung up the phone and walked out the door.  No one tried to stop her this time.  She took a taxi to the BBC and there she sat.

One hour later, Stacey cell phone rang. It was Shane, “Sweetheart, I’m on my way home, I’ll meet you at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Very good,” Stacey said. “I’ve given the film to my friend here at the BBC.  If he doesn’t hear from us by tonight, it’ll be all over the airways.”

“Excellent,” Shane said. He had no idea to whom or what Stacey was referring.

A couple of hours later the helicopter landed.  When Shane walked off the helicopter Stacey ran to him.  A man got off with Shane and was trying to talk to Stacey, but she ignored him and kept walking away.

“Stacey, there’s no need to be rude,” Shane said.

Stacey stopped and turned, patted her shoulder bag and said, “Rude nothing, he’s just lucky I don’t shoot his ass.” She took Shane’s hand and started walking again.  The man from the helicopter made a mad dash back to it, when Stacey patted her shoulder bag and made the remark, he was lucky she didn’t shoot his ass.

A policeman met them in the car park, as they were about to get in the car.  He was very polite and asked to see Stacey’s shoulder bag?  She gave it to him.  He took everything out, then asked, “Mrs. McLeod, do you have a pistol?”

“Good heavens no,” Stacey said. “Why would I?”  Then Stacey asked with such innocence, “Would you like to search me officer?” 

He was young and blushed as he said, “No ma’am, that won’t be necessary. You and your husband may go now.”

Stacey started laughing.  She had pulled off the two biggest bluffs of her life. 

Shane said, “Well my devious little wife, I now see I must worry about you getting nicked and spending time in Scotland yard.” They both were laughing as they drove home.

Hugh and Annie met them as they drove in the car park. “What happened?” they asked. “Nigel called, and said the coppers were all over the helicopter and the hospital.”

“Oh, it was just a little miss-communication,” Stacey said. “They had to make sure I was Shane’s wife before they would let me talk to him.  Of course, he was on his way home by then.”

“You sure had Doctor Wilkerson ready to piss in his pants,”  Hugh said.

“I don’t know why,” Stacey said. “he was the sweetest man.”

“Your friend isn’t telling the truth, you know,” Hugh told Annie on their way home.

“How ever did you guess?” Annie said, laughing.