So now we know what Blue Light means, she said, casting a ginger glance behind them as they reached the end of the path. As Mama says Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!
Apt, Roger said, laughing.
Was that a Hogmanay prayer? she asked. It sounded kind of familiar, but I wasnt sure
It isand a house-blessing. Yeve heard your da say it a few times, but he does it in the Gaelic. The Cunninghams are educated Lowlanders, from their accent; if Id tried the Gaelic version, Mrs. C. might well have thought I was trying to put a spell on them.
Werent you? She said it lightly, but he turned his head to her, surprised.
Well in a way, I suppose so, he said slowly, but then smiled. Highland charms and prayers often arent distinguishable from each other. But I think if you address God directly, then its probably a prayer, rather than witchcraft.
She glanced over her shoulder once more, with the feeling that Mrs. Cunninghams eyes were burning a hole through the door of the cabin, watching their retreat.
Do Presbyterians believe in exorcism? she asked.
No, we dont, he said, though he also looked back. My fatherthe Reverend, I meandid tell me, though, that when you go visiting, you should never leave a house without offering a blessing of some kind. He held back a springy oak branch so she could duck beneath it. He did add that it might keep things from following you homebut I think he was joking.
I WAS WORKING my way down the creek bank, collecting leeches, watercress, and anything else that looked either edible or useful, when I heard a distant sound of wagon wheels.
Thinking that this might be the tinker Jo Beardsley had mentioned to Germain, I hastily shook down my skirts, shoved my feet back into my sandals, and hurried toward the wagon trace, where the rumbling of wheels had been suddenly replaced by a good deal of bad language.
This proved to be coming from a very large man, who was excoriating his mules, the wagon, and the wheel that had just hit a rock and sprung its iron tyre. He lacked Jamies creativity in cursing but was making up for it in volume.
May I help you, sir? I asked, seizing a moment when hed paused for breath.
He swung round, astonished.
Where the devil did you come from? he asked.
I gestured toward the trees behind me, and repeated, Do you need help? Closer to the wagon, it was apparent that he wasnt the tinker. The wagondrawn by two very large mulesheld a variety of things, but not iron pans and hair ribbons. There were half a dozen muskets lying in the wagon bed, together with a small collection of swords, scythes, and staves. A few small barrels that might be salt fish or porkand one that was most certainly gunpowder, both from its markings and from the faint scent of charcoal tinged with sulfur and urine.
My insides contracted.
Is this Frasers Ridge? the man demanded, looking at the woods around us. We were some way below the clearing where the Higginses cabin stood, and there was no sign of habitation other than the wagon trace, which was quite overgrown.
It is, I said, there being no point in lying. Do you have business here?
He looked sharply at me, and focused on me for the first time.
My business is my own, he said, though not impolitely. Im looking for Jamie Fraser.
Im Mrs. Fraser, I said, folding my arms. His business is mine.
His face flushed and he glowered at me, as though thinking I was practicing upon him, but I gave him stare for stare and after a moment, he gave a sort of barking laugh and relaxed.
Will you fetch your husband, then, or will I come and find him?
Whom shall I say is calling? I asked, not moving.
Benjamin Cleveland, he said, swelling a bit with a sense of his own importance. Hell know the name.
JAMIE LAID THE last brick in the course and trimmed the mortar with a small feeling of satisfactionmingled with a mild dismay at the realization that tomorrows work on the chimney would need to be done with a ladder; this was as high as he could reach, without. His shoulders were complaining; the thought of his knees joining in made him stretch his back and sigh.
Aye, well, maybe my bonnie lass can help wi that. Brianna had said something to him the first night theyd come. Shed followed him through the building site, the two of them stumbling over rocks and strings and laughing as though they were drunk, bumping shoulders and grasping elbows to keep their balance in the dark. Each fleeting touch a spark that warmed him.
I can make a movable frame with a pulley. Thats what shed said, putting a hand on the half-built chimney. We can hoist up a bucket of bricks you can reach from the ladder.
We, he said softly, smiling to himself. Then looked over his shoulder, self-conscious, lest the men carrying logs should have heard him. But theyd laid down the last one and paused for refreshmentAmy Higgins and Fanny had brought beer, and he dropped the trowel in a bucket of water and went to join them. Just before he reached the edge of the foundation, though, his eye caught a flicker of movement at the head of the wagon road, and the next instant Claire came into sight, dwarfed by the man who walked beside her.
A Naoimh Micheal Àirdaingeal, dìon sinn anns an àm a chatha, he said under his breath. He didnt know the man, but there was something about him beyond his size that made the hairs rise on Jamies neck.
He glanced at his helpers for the dayseven men: Bobby Higgins, three of his Ardsmuir men, the others tenants he didnt yet know well. And Fanny, who had brought them lunch.
None of the men had noticed the man making his way across the clearingbut Fanny had; she frowned and then looked quickly toward Jamie. He nodded to her, reassuring, and her face relaxed, though she kept glancing back down the hill, even as she answered something one of the men said to her.
None of the men had noticed the man making his way across the clearingbut Fanny had; she frowned and then looked quickly toward Jamie. He nodded to her, reassuring, and her face relaxed, though she kept glancing back down the hill, even as she answered something one of the men said to her.
Jamie stepped over the foundation. He had a feeling that hed have liked to meet the fellow whilst standing in his own house with men at his back, but he had a stronger feeling that he wanted to get between the man and Claire.
She was smiling politely at the man as he talked, but he could see the wariness plain in her face. She looked up, though, and saw him coming. Relief bloomed in her, and he felt an answering thrum in his chest. He walked toward them, not smiling, but looking pleasant, at least.
General Fraser? said the man, looking him up and down with interest. Aye, well, that explained Claires wariness.
Not anymore, he said, still pleasant, and put out a hand. Jamie Fraser, your servant, sir.
Yours, sir. Benjamin Cleveland. A sweaty hand substantially bigger than his own grasped him and squeezed in a manner indicating that the owner thought he could have hurt him, had he wanted to.
Jamie let go without response and smiled. Aye, try it, ye wee bastard.
I ken your name, sir. Ive heard ye spoken of, now and then.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Claires brows rise.
Mr. Cleveland is a famous Indian fighter, a nighean, he said, not taking his eyes off the man. Hes killed a good many Cree and Cherokee, by his own report.
Caughnawaga, too. I dont keep a count, Cleveland said, chuckling in a way that said he remembered every man hed killed, and enjoyed his memories. I suppose your relations with the Indians are a mite more amiable?
I have friends in the Cherokee villages. Not all of his friends in the villages were Indians, but Scotchee Cameron was no business of Clevelands.
Splendid! Clevelands ruddy face grew redder. I hoped that might be the case.
Jamie tilted his head with a noncommittal noise in his throat.
Claire evidently caught some note of what he was actually thinking, for she cleared her own throat and stepped up beside him, touching his arm.
Mr. Clevelands wagon broke down, a mile or so down the tracea sprung tyre. Perhaps you should go look at it?
He smiled at her; she was transparent as a bottle of gin.
Surely, he said, and, turning to Cleveland, added, I hope your cargo didna gang agley when the wheel broke. If yeve anything fragile, perhaps
Oh, no, Cleveland said casually. Its just a handful of guns and a bit of powder; everythings sound enough. He grinned at Jamie, exposing a row of stout, good teeth, though there was a shred of wet dark-brown tobacco caught between two of them.
Speaking of guns, though, he went on. Thats one thing I had in mind to talk to you about. But yes, lets do as your good lady suggests. He made Claire a creditable bow then turned and took hold of Jamies arm, compelling him toward the trace.
Jamie disengaged himself without comment and, turning back to Claire, said, Send Bobby and Aaron along wi some tools, will ye, Sassenach? And maybe a bit of beer, if theres any left.
Cleveland was waiting, and turned at once toward the wagon trace, leaving Jamie to come as he would. He followed, eyes on the broad back and tree-trunk legs. A very worn leather belt, showing the marks of cartridge box and powder horn, and presently supporting a large knife in an equally worn sheathone decorated with dyed porcupine quills in an Indian pattern.
The man had maybe twenty years advantage on himand at least a hundred pounds, though Cleveland was an inch or two shorter. Hes likely always been the biggest in any company he finds himself in. So hes likely never had to care whether folk like him or not.
THE WAGON STOOD in a hollow of dark-green shade, where the wagon trace ran deep between two hillocks, both covered with a dense growth of balsam fir, hemlock, and pine. Jamie felt the coolness touch his face like a hand and drew a deep, clean breath of turpentine and cypress berries.
He was glad to see that the wagon wheel itself wasnt damaged; the iron tyre that surrounded it had sprung loose, but none of the wood was broken. He could maybe get this manand his guns; he spared a glance at the contents of the wagonback on his way before hospitality required the Frasers to provide dinner and a bed.