When Fate Dictates (19 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Marshall

BOOK: When Fate Dictates
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“I wonder what he will think of his new
home,” I said.

“I rather hope he will like it,” replied
Simon, pulling on the reins to slow the horse.

“He will have forgotten the house in York by
now,” I said reflectively.

“Aye, I should think he will have. We are
here,” he said, lifting one hand off the reins and pointing to his
right. All I could see was black, with the odd shadow of light cast
from the moon.

“How can you know that?” I asked.

“Because I know where I am going. I have been
through here many times before, when I was a soldier. We are very
close to the border and the army uses this road when traveling from
Edinburgh to England.”

“Are you not worried that the Red Coats will
come this way again then?”

He shook his head. “No, I am not worried. I
don’t expect they will come looking for me now. They think I’m
dead, and if they do come, it will be for cattle, not me. But that
doesn’t mean I will be unprepared for them.”

We were moving slowly, up a small hill, the
cart bumping and banging nosily behind us.

“That cart sounds as though it’s about to
fall apart,” I said, my voice wobbling with every bump we jolted
over.

“It doesn’t matter now, Corran. We are here.
The cart can collapse for all I care, it doesn’t owe us anything.”
I could hear the smile in his voice and knew he felt as relieved as
I was that our journey was at a safe end.

He pulled the horse to a stop. In the
moonlight I could just about make out the faint outline of a small
stone-built cottage, rather like the houses in the glen.

“Let’s get Duncan into the cottage and a bed
made up for him, and then we can set about unpacking the cart.”

I nodded, lifted the little boy into my arms
and passed him down to Simon, who was now standing beside me. I
climbed down from the cart and followed him toward the cottage. The
door was ajar, so Simon lifted his elbow and gave it a gentle push.
It creaked open and a bat flew out above our heads. I gasped, not
having expected any nocturnal visitors and then reminded myself
that we were the strangers, not the bat.

“Simon, this place is crawling with
creatures,” I said gasping again as a mouse scurried across the
floor and over my foot.

“It will be. No one has lived here for a long
time. We will claim it for our own soon enough, but tonight we will
have to be content to share.”

He handed the sleeping child back to me.

“You watch the lad and I will fetch a quilt
or two for him. Put a quilt on the floor and cover him with
another. It will do for one night.”

The floor was damp, dirty and uncomfortable
but none of this seemed to impede Simon and Duncan’s ability to
sleep. It was only when the morning sun began to rise in the sky
that Simon so much as stirred. Stretching lazily he smiled over at
me as I sat watching him.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t sleep at all. This place is
awful,” I said unkindly.

“You expect too much, be patient lass.”

“It’s not that I expect anything, Simon, but
it is crawling with creatures and thick with dirt, and I have the
smell of damp in my nose. I would rather sleep outside, where the
air is fresh and clean and every creature known to man doesn’t
believe you have taken their home.”

He shook his head, muttering to himself.

“‘Creatures who believe you have taken their
home’. What are you on about woman?”

“Duncan, don’t put that in your mouth.
Dirty!” I shouted, as the little boy raised a fist full of soil to
his mouth. He looked at me wide eyed and startled at my tone. I
moved toward him, opening his tiny hand, knocking the soil onto the
floor and dusting the palm of his hand clean.

“I am just tired Simon, sorry. I don’t mean
to sound so ungrateful. We have been so long sleeping on the side
of the road or track, I will get used to a home again.”

“Bring the wee lad and come with me. I will
show you what there is to love about this place,” he said, moving
toward the cottage door. I took Duncan’s hand and we followed his
daddy outside. I jumped as a barn owl left a wood store about three
or four steps to the left of the cottage, swooping dramatically in
front of us. I watched it, following the wide expanse of its wings
until it was nothing more than a tiny gray dot in front of the
trees. We stood silently with our backs to the stone wall of the
cottage, staring into the distance. A stream babbled somewhere to
our left. Tiny little rabbits hopped playfully up a bank, whilst a
polecat scurried into some dense shrubbery. For as far as the eye
could see stretched gentle, rolling, green hills and fertile
forests. Sheep dotted green hills, grazing on the lush pastures;
the sound of waking cows echoed in the distance, whilst wild birds
of every imaginable type swarmed above us. Pheasants honked nosily
in the long grass and shrubs of the fields, taking occasionally to
clumsy panicked flight. A lonely, brilliant white star clung on to
the night sky, but this morning’s light belonged to the sun which
rose gloriously over the hills around us.

Even little Duncan stood still, transfixed by
the magnificence of the sights and sounds of this waking world.

I turned to Simon and smiled. “Thank you,” I
whispered, “It is perfect.”

“It is my pleasure Corran!” he replied, a
faint smile curling the side of his lips. “I noticed some dry wood
last night when I pulled the cart under the store. I will fetch
some and make a fire in the cottage.”

I hadn’t noticed a fireplace and turned to
face the cottage; looking up at the roof as I did. Indeed, Simon
was right, a brick built chimney protruded neatly from the thatch.
In the broad light of day the cottage looked quite welcoming. A
good clean, some straw on the floor, a welcoming fire, a few bits
of basic furniture, and everything about this place could indeed be
perfect.

“You want to come with daddy to get some
wood?” Simon said, smiling kindly down toward the little boy.

“Me come with daddy, me come with daddy,”
answered Duncan excitedly, as he jumped up and down in front of
Simon.

“Come on then lad, let’s go and find some
nice dry wood to light a fire for mummy.”

Inspired by the beauty around me and feeling
a decided prickle of excitement at the thought of our new lives, I
set about cleaning the cottage and unpacking our chests. I had not
opened most of the chests since we had left York, and had all but
forgotten what was inside most of them. So it was with great
delight and pleasure that I reacquainted myself with our
possessions.

By the time Simon and Duncan returned, the
cottage had started to look and feel more like a home. I took the
wood from Simon and proceeded to light a fire.

“Simon, do you think the chimney is clean
enough to light this fire?”

“Well light it and we will soon find out,” he
said, laughing.

“And where did you get all that hay from?” I
asked, as he dumped a bale on the floor.

“Ahh, now that would be telling,” he
paused.

“No Simon, where did you find it?”

“It was in the wood store,” he replied
finally, ending the suspense.

“That’s odd; I thought no one had lived here
for many years? Who could have left a bale of hay here?”

“I think people have passed along this way
over the years and used the cottage and store for shelter, probably
feeding and resting their horses here. The straw was most likely
bought on the way and forgotten here when they left.”

I nodded, an uneasy feeling passing over me.
“Do you not worry that these people might expect to use this place
for shelter again?”

“Aye, that they might, but we need not fear
them Corran. It is only the army that will bring trouble to our
door.”

“What will you do if the army does come?” I
asked.

“Trust me, Corran, I will not let any harm
come to you or Duncan.”

“I love you Simon,” I said, giving him a hug.
He smiled and kissed me gently on the cheek.

“And I you lass,” he replied. “Now what would
you like for dinner? We have pheasant or rabbit on tonight’s menu,”
he offered.

“What’s easiest to catch?” I asked.

He smiled, moving toward the door. “Well the
pheasants fell at my feet and died, but the rabbit was a little
bugger to catch. Either way they are both now caught.”

Having prepared the birds and rabbit, and put
them on to cook, we took the waste out onto the hills. “Simon, will
you slow down?” I shouted, as he strode ahead of Duncan and me,
“Little legs back here,” I reminded him playfully, as we sprinted
to catch him up.

We carried on walking till we reached the top
of the hill and Simon dropped the waste from the pheasants and
rabbits for the crows.

 

“Come on then you two, that stew should be
just about ready, let’s get back to the cottage,” he said a few
hours later, lifting an exhausted Duncan onto his shoulders.

That night, when Duncan had eaten his meal,
we tucked him up on his new straw mattress, covered him with a
quilt and watched as he fell fast asleep.

“Well, I would say that we have one very
tired little boy there,” I whispered, not wanting to wake the
child.

“It’s the walk and the good food that makes a
child sleep so well,” he replied, putting his arm around me, “It
does a pretty good job of making an adult sleepy too,” he said,
yawning widely.

“Shall we turn in?” I asked, kissing him
gently on the cheek.

“Aye, in a bit,” he replied, reaching across
to his flask.

“It is nice to have a home again,” I
whispered softly. “Thank you, Simon, and I am sorry I was so
ungrateful at first.”

“There is a lot of work to do on this cottage
yet,” he said, taking a long sip of the contents of the flask and
offered it to me.

“What do you mean? I think it’s fine now that
it is clean and we have a fire going.”

“Aye, lass but we are vulnerable here,” he
said, running his fingers along the flat end of his dirk.

“Vulnerable?” I said, taken off guard, “I
don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it, Corran,” he said,
trying to brush the comment aside.

“Simon, are we in danger?”

He shook his head, his eyes drifting
downwards to where his hands were now idly sharpening the dirk.

“No, lass, we are not in danger, only it is
too late in the season to be thinking about planting, the ground is
not ready, so if I don’t use this time to do up the cottage then
what will I do for the next few months?”

“How long do you think this work will take?”
I asked, still not convinced that he was being entirely honest with
me.

“I will have it done before the winter.”

“That is very soon, Simon, why the rush?”

“No rush, I just want it done before the
winter snows come in.”

“I will go into town tomorrow and see about
material.”

 

“Corran, come here will you?” Simon called
from the kitchen one evening.

I was upstairs with Duncan, putting clean bed
sheets on his bed.

“Come on Duncan, daddy wants us; we can come
back and finish your room later.” The little boy raced down the
stairs ahead of me and into the kitchen.

“What took you so long?” Simon teased, as I
finally caught Duncan up.

I scowled, unimpressed with his comment. “Do
you know I have yet to make up our bed, finish Duncan’s room, fix
something for everyone to eat and light the fires in the bedrooms?
I’ve too much to do Simon, is this important?”

“I just want a few minutes with you Corran. I
have something I need to show you. Can you take Duncan back
upstairs? I don’t want him to see this.”

“Come on Duncan,” I sighed, taking the little
boy by the hand, “let’s go and find your blocks.”

Eventually, having settled Duncan in his room
with his carved wooden animals and blocks, I returned to the
kitchen.

“Right, Duncan is settled. What is it that
you need to show me?” I said, watching Simon with suspicion as he
locked the front door and closed the shutters in the kitchen.

“You see this pole,” he said, pointing toward
a long wooden pole propped up against the kitchen wall, “you must
never move it from this place.”

I frowned. “That is just ridiculous Simon,
you are being silly. Why would we need to leave a wooden pole in
the kitchen? And for that matter, why have you locked the front
door and closed the shutters?”

“I mean it Corran, this is not a joke. It
must be here at all times and I will show you why,” he said,
reaching for the pole. In one fluid movement he hoisted it toward
the ceiling. A hatch fell open and a rope ladder descended from the
hole. I stared in stunned amazement as the ladder swayed in front
of me.

“Simon you are scaring me. What is all this
for?”

“Go up the ladder.” he ordered.

“Tell me why? Then I will,” I said, feeling
very uneasy.

“Just do it woman, we don’t have time to mess
around. Duncan will be looking for us soon and I need you to go up
the ladder. Just do it, will you!”

His tone was urgent and fretful, his
movements jumpy and erratic, and quite frankly it was worth going
up the ladder just to calm him down.

“Alright Simon, I’ll go up.” Reaching for the
rope ladder I carefully put my foot on the first rung. I steadied
myself and climbed to the top, pulling myself through the hole in
the ceiling. I barely had time to comprehend where I was before I
heard Simon calling me from below. I put my head back through the
hole.

“What’s wrong?”

“Here take the pole,” he said, pushing it
toward me. I grabbed it and drew it up through the hole. Within
seconds, he was kneeling beside me, hoisting the ladder up and
reaching for the hatch.

“Simon, this is a whole new room. What is
going on and why did you never tell me about it?”

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