The Blessed Blend (9 page)

They put out feed for the stock, shut the hens up in the hen house, and locked the cabin up. Saddling Chick and Breezy up, they headed back down to the lodge. Caleb followed Callie, thinking. He loved his sister but damn it, she was too hard-headed, too quick to fight, too slow to forgive, and too afraid of getting hurt to open herself up to anyone. He just hoped that she didn’t carry her stubbornness past the point of stupidity. Considering that fact that nearly everyone in their family lived well into their late nineties, she would have a long time to regret it.

There were also the twins to consider. They now knew who their father was and deserved the chance to have him in their lives. If Callie succeeded in chasing him away, she would hurt them and they’d come to resent her for it. Nope, that wasn’t going to happen if he could help it. His sister obviously needed some help seeing the light and Caleb was going to help her no matter how much she fought it.

Callie took deep breaths of the chilled autumn air, listening to the calls of the birds and squirrels, and taking in the beauty all around her. The mountains were constant even as the seasons rolled and the years passed. Her ancestors had lived here for thousands of years, their flesh and blood part of the soil, part of the life all around. This was where she belonged, where she drew her strength from, where she found peace. Her refuge.

With each breath she tried to calm her spirit and settle her mind. Memories of the love she had shared with Euan warred with the hurt he had caused her, and her fears of his motives for being there enshrouded all of it like a suffocating fog. He had been the first and only man she had ever loved or been with and she had been bonded to him to the marrow of her soul. Even after all of this time, after all of the hurt, there was still the residual of love amongst the pieces of her broken heart.

Maybe it was because she saw him every time she looked at her children. Red Wolf was very much his father’s son in both appearance and manner, and some of Mountain Rose’s mannerisms, such as her laugh and the way she would shake her leg or wiggle a foot when her legs were propped up, were very much like Euan’s. Maybe she loved her children too much to truly hate their father no matter what he had done to her.

Dinner was ready by the time they arrived at the lodge. Their mother and grandmother had fried up the fish Papa and Euan had caught, serving it with fried potatoes, cornbread, creamed corn, and a mess of collard greens. Other relatives started showing up with more food- fried chicken, rolls, homemade bread, several vegetable dishes, and desserts ranging from chess pie to blackberry cobbler to spice cake. A folding table was set up near the long dining table, both loaded with food, and the desserts were placed upon the sideboard.

Euan and John watched as the elder members of Callie’s extended family came in. Some were more Native American in appearance while others were more Caucasian and still others almost Mediterranean. There were familiar Scottish surnames, a few of old English origin, and several that were rather unfamiliar. Awiakta, they had learned, meant Deer Eye in Cherokee. Cumbow and Niccans also came from Native American languages although the meanings had been lost over time. Mullins, Goins, Gibson, Bowlin and Collins were Irish in origin but were some of the more common surnames among the Melungeons.

Papa’s two younger brothers came with their wives. His three surviving sisters, their husbands, and widowed brother-in-law were there. All six of Papa and Jolena’s children were present, along with three of Jolena’s siblings. A few teenagers and young children came with the adults.

Five great-great-aunts and great-great-uncles arrived as well. There was enough shared Celtic blood and culture among these people for Euan and John to understand that this wasn’t just a social function. When the clan elders show up together, serious decisions are being made. With a sympathetic look, John put a hand on Euan’s shoulder and then patted his back.

Everyone looked Euan over quite closely, with a bit of perusal going John’s way as well. Most offered a hand with their greeting. Others simply nodded.

There was a bit of noise until one elderly lady entered. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned towards her. Her hair was white with age, her face beautifully wizened, her hands slightly gnarled from years of hard work, but her gray eyes were clear, her back straight, and she needed no cane to assist her as she made her way through the room. Her presence as was commanding as any queen and Euan knew she was someone of great importance to those assembled.

She walked straight up to him and looked him over with the same keen intelligence that seemed to run in this family. Euan stood more than a foot taller than she and was easily twice her weight, yet he felt small in comparison. She nodded slightly and said, “So ye’ve finally come, young man. It’s about time.”

Before Euan could stammer out a reply, Papa said, “Euan Wallace, this is my mother, Elizabeth Conley Robertson. Mama, this is Euan Wallace.”

Callie had spoken often of her great-grandmother, who had been ninety-six four years ago. Elizabeth Robertson was a healer, midwife, story-teller, and local historian and genealogist. She knew every plant and its uses, every attribute of the land within a fifty-mile radius, and every family and family tree going back at least eight generations from her own and down to the most recent newborn baby. She could recall details of generations past and present that wouldn’t be found in the county records and some rarely even whispered about. There were those who thought her a witch and for good reason, as she had been raised up in a family whose women possessed a lot of secret knowledge.

Euan offered his hand and greeted the clan matriarch respectfully. “I’m pleased t’ meet ye, Mrs. Robertson. Callie spoke often of ye.” He held his breath, wondering if she would bless or curse him.

Granny Robertson, as most called her, took his hand gently, her eyes steady upon his. There seemed to be a power that flowed from her. Euan felt it slide up his arm and run through him. Oddly, he wasn’t afraid, just surprised. He could see in her raised eyebrow and slight smile that she knew what was happening.

She spoke, her voice clear and strong despite its softness. “Our Callie came home with a gift from ye, and a bane as well. It remains to be seen if the bane be healed, but the gift carries on in the blood.”

A murmur went through the assembled kinfolk and some nodded their heads. Euan was used to people speaking in riddles, which a good many traditional Scots often did, but he couldn’t quite grasp the inference in what he had just heard. Did she mean the children were the gifts and Callie’s broken heart was the bane, or was there more to it than that? He began to notice several other elderly women in the crowd looking at him with the same expression as Granny Robertson and felt some sort of connection running between them all.

Oh, good Lord, were they witches? He had thought Callie had been joking when she said that many of the women in her family had what she called “the
gift
”. Maybe she
had
been serious. Maybe she had it as well.

That would definitely explain some things.

Granny turned to Papa and said, “I believe we’uns have some business to attend to, Daniel, but supper’s awaitin’.” With that, she put her hand upon Papa’s proffered arm and let him escort her to the table, where she was seated at the head.

The family took their places, with the twins between Callie and Euan, and John next to him. Darlene prepared a small plate with a sample of each dish being served and Papa’s uncle, Abel Conley, offered a prayer over it to thank the Almighty for the meal and those assembled. The family then sat down to eat.

The food was delicious. John and Euan bantered about how each had spent their day- Euan fishing and John splitting and stacking firewood, helping to hew logs for one of several guest cabins to be built over the winter, and talking with Jim about this and that. Once Layla and Eli had returned from school they had grilled him about Euan.

It had been a good day for John, with his only complaint being that his hands were too big to be much good at milking a cow. “M’ wee finger be longer by half than one o’ their teats,” he said as he flexed his hands and wiggled his fingers. “An’ its nae gude tryin’ tae milk wi’ just m’ twa fingers an’ thumb.”

Red Wolf and Mountain Rose told Callie about John swinging them about like airplanes. “Mama, he flew us around and up and down!” Mountain Rose squealed. “It was fun!”

Red Wolf nodded. “I liked it, too,” he said. “I wish we could fly for real.”

Callie wished she could just fly right on out of there. Knowing the purpose of this family gathering sat like a stone in her gut and the food seemed to have lost its savor. What she wouldn’t give to take a run in the woods with Brutus and the wolves, running until she was too tired to think about anything and dropped into a dreamless sleep where nothing could touch her. Maybe she would sleep until all of this was over and the world was fresh and new again.

She sighed. Fat chance of that happening. Her luck seemed to run according to Murphy’s Law with no loop-holes or exemptions.

Caleb noticed her lack of appetite and gave her a pointed look. Callie narrowed her eyes and all but growled at him. When he chuckled at her, she lifted her hand with the first three fingers up and said, “Read between the lines.” Layla scolded her for being rude at the table and Callie shot her sister a seething look before offering her that same gesture.

“You know, just because your drawers are in a wad doesn’t mean you have to take it out on the rest of us,” Layla countered. “Try being a little less bitchy, sis. You might actually like it.”

Eli decided to ignore the unpleasant exchange and started asking John about Scotland. His view was that food and family were meant for good times shared with both in abundance. Why let a little thing like attitude spoil an opportunity for fun?

Euan looked over at Callie, who looked as if she were going to spew fire and smoke. As she struggled to keep from venting her anger at a family meal, he tried to think of anything he could do to get her mind off on a different track. John asked her to pass him the molasses. She stared at him for a moment as her mind switched gears and then passed the jar of coffee-colored syrup to Euan, who then passed it to John.

“Thankee,” said John in his rumbling baritone. “How d’ ye come by this stuff, Callie? It’s verra tasty on a bit o’ bread!” They had molasses in Scotland but John was also looking for a way to smooth things over.

“We get it from a mill down in South Carolina. They’ve been milling cane since the early colonial days. Light molasses is the first step of sugar extraction, medium is the second, and black-strop is the third step.”

“Aye,” John said, nodding. “Yer grandmother made some bread wi’ it tha’ was braw for a laird an’ served it wi’ tea when we were done wi’ the work this afternoon.”

Callie liked molasses bread herself, especially with ginger and nuts in it. Red Wolf’s favorite cookies were ginger snaps made with fresh-grated ginger and black-strop molasses. Mountain Rose preferred oatmeal cookies with raisins, nuts, and honey. So did Papa.

After the meal, the young folks went outside to make a bonfire for warmth and light. Layla, Eli, and their cousins would watch the little kids while the family council met inside. Caleb was asked to remain inside.

The room was cleared and the food put away, and a large quantity of fresh coffee was brewed as Jim put more wood on the fire. Several of the chairs were placed between the fireplace and the sectional sofa.

When the meeting started, all of the family elders were seated together by the hearth. Euan and Callie were seated together directly in front of them, which made both rather uncomfortable. Granny Robertson nodded to Papa, and he told the assembled kinfolk who Euan was and what had transpired over the past couple of days, including the conversation during their fishing trip.

Jim described the day before that, when Euan and Callie had faced each other for the first time in four years as well as what Euan had told Jim and Darlene about his relationship with their daughter. He also mentioned their concerns that Euan might try to take the children from their mother. Caleb was asked for his input, which he gave in his usual plain manner as he spoke of his observations and concerns.

Grandpa Conley, Granny Robertson’s brother, started the questioning, beginning with John. The big Scotsman looked a bit intimidated by all of the eyes upon him, but answered unfalteringly as he recounted everything from the day Euan had met Callie until the day they had arrived at the lodge. He winced when asked about Euan’s behavior following Callie’s departure from Scotland, embarrassed to mention his friend’s often foolish actions, especially the wenching. He gave Euan and Callie both a brief look of apology as he sat back down.

Euan was already ashamed of himself. Hearing his behavior recounted in front of Callie’s family drove that burning stake even deeper into his heart and twisted it torturously. He looked down at his hands the whole time, his chest so tight that he could hardly breathe.

Something caught his eye and his gaze slid over to Callie. Tears slid down her cheeks and landed softly upon her hands where they lay folded in her lap. Her jaw was clenched and her breaths were shallow. It was the first time she had heard exactly how he had led his life after that awful day when he had betrayed her trust and it was clear that he had continued that betrayal in the worst way. There was no comfort he could offer her and he dared not even try to touch her.