Chapter 11: Seeking Gainful Employment

Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander

Bloody, insufferable rotter. And Jamie had to ask why I had no connections with the Catholic Church? I stormed out of her office, cursing under my breath. Miss Frizzy, or Turley, or whatever the hell her name was, waved while I streaked on by. No wonder she was such a sour grape, having to associate with the undisputed Queen of Mercy.

I sailed through the hallways, with my head bowed. Just before reaching the lift, I literally bumped into a man clad in white. I peered up at him, and he blinked at me in recognition. "Claire?" he said.

"Dr. Tanner …"

His eyebrows shot up. "This is a pleasant surprise. I haven't seen you since we collaborated during the war. Are you working here?"

"Not bloody likely."

"With your experience and skills? I don't understand; they need nurses here. Why would anyone be foolish enough not to hire you?"

"Her worship, the Mother Superior, says I'd be a taint on the pristine reputation of the staff. I'm going through divorce proceedings, and apparently, everyone here is either blissfully married, or single, and pure as the driven snow."

The good doctor chuckled. "I'm divorced myself, and thankfully, the old witch has nothing to say about it. I submit to a higher authority."

His eyes darted to the door of the lift. "I wish I could chat with you a little longer, but I should get back to the clinic. Why don't you come with me? It's just right around the corner."

He frowned in concentration. "Wait … here's a clever idea … let's have a bash at the Mother Superior, shall we? How would you like to be my assistant at the clinic?

That should make her repent of her decision."

"Oh, Dr. Tanner, that would be lovely."

"Claire, we've known each other far too long to be formal. Please … call me, Geoffrey."

My feet began to feel lighter as we walked out to his vehicle and to the new job awaiting me. What a fortuitous turn of events.

# # # # #

I watched mo nighean donn walk away, and felt a heavy weight in my chest. It was a foolish fear I kent, to be sure, but my heart was still uneasy. I turned, trudgin' along the road wi' a hope to procure honorable employment. Scairt I was, as Claire might havta pay our way, and that fact was verra shameful to me. I could no be a drone. I'd worked all my life and I'd be damned afore I let my woman keep me. How could I hold my head op, if I didna earn my own bread?

A good forty minutes or so passed I expect, afore I spotted farmland spread 'bout the land on either side o' the road. I didna ken which farm bore the MacGregor name, so I searched high and low for some sign o' horse corrals and such. The first one I set foot on, hadna any stables, nor the next one neither. So, I kept on, eyes sharp, and nose as weel. Bein' near horses since a wee bairn, the smell o' them was verra familiar to me, e'en comfortin', ye might say.

There was nary a sign o' horseflesh amongst the followin' two, but I did see that some o' the farms had a number o' cattle, and I memorized the names above the gates in the event as MacGregor hadna need o' my help. My period o'cattle rustlin' was no some o' my proudest moments, but it did give me a bit of experience, aye?

As I was ruminatin' over my less than illustrious thievin' days, a young lad approached me; a big dog by his side, barkin' as loud as ye please. The boy waved his hand at the beast and yelled, "Quiet, Brutus."

He smiled at me, and said, "Hello, Mister. Ye're lost are ye?"

"Ye could say that, Laddie. I'm lookin' for the MacGregor's place. D'ye ken where it is, and if ye do, will ye be so kind as to point it out to me?"

"Oh, aye." His index finger pointed to a farm a good ways down the road. "I should warn ye tho', Mr. MacGregor is verra disagreeable, unless ye're his kin. And sometimes, e'en then," he muttered under his breath.

I nodded to him in gratitude. "Thank ye for the warnin'. I'll take it under advisement."

I took the steps op to the front door, and was surprised to be greeted by a lady, perhaps in the third decade of life. She was a plain woman with light brown hair and tired grey eyes. "What can I do for ye, sir?"

"Is this the MacGregor place?"

She looked me op and down. "Aye, and who is it that wants to know?"

"My name is James Fraser, and I'm lookin' for work. I was told ye might be in need o' a horse trainer."

"My grandfather went into town. He'd be the one ye'd be speakin' to. No tellin' when he might return if he strays into a pub, so ye'd best come back tomorrow."

"When d'ye think would be a good time?"

She huffed. "There's ne'er a good time wi' the auld man. He's been in a bad humor since 1929."

"Ah, I'll choose my words wisely then."

"Tomorrow."

The woman closed the door, and left me standin' on the stoop, wonderin' what to do next.

Time was a precious commodity, so I headed back to one o' the farms I'd seen as was raisin' cattle. Walking under an archway, I went to the door and knocked. A young miss o' considerable beauty, and cheeky words, answered the door and was all smiles when she took a gander at me. I had to look away, so as no to be reddened clear to my hair roots.

She cocked one eyebrow, and said, "I imagine ye're seekin' for work. We could use a good-lookin' fellow like ye to spruce op the place. So are ye?"

My brain seemed to be disconnected from my tongue. "Am I what?"

"Seekin' for work, Mr. Blue Eyes."

I cleared my throat, and lied like a politician. "Nay. I just needed directions to the MacGregor farm."

The lass pushed forward—a wee bit too close for comfort—and gestured to the road behind us. "It's op aways beyond that hill. But are ye sure ye dinna need a job? I can call my da. He's in the study goin' o'er some papers."

I stepped slowly backward. "I'll just be on my way. Thank ye for yer trouble."

"My pleasure. I hope to see ye again."

I nodded, and forced a smile. "Aye."

I couldna get away fast enough. No sir, e'en if I could work on this estate, it wouldna be a good idea. The lass appeared to be more trouble than it was worth.

Thank god the next cattle station had a man already out in the fields. "I'm sorry, Lad, but I canna afford any hired help at the moment. I wish ye luck though. I hear MacGregor might need help since his son married and moved away."

And so it went. I made a visit to nearly ever' farm along the road, 'til I was too knackered to go any further.

My belly was grumblin' by this time, and I sat back from the road under the shade o' a dogwood, and ate the lunch as Claire made for me, my mind clouded wi' doubt.

The last two farms I called on gave me the same response as the others. Disheartenin' it was.

I returned to the cottage, and checked all my traps. Leastways, there'd be food on the table tonight. Two rabbits and a squirrel would be roastin' on a spit when my Sassenach came home.

# # # # #

Everyone at the clinic was friendly, and more than welcoming. Tea and scones with clotted cream and cherry conserves came by on a trolley while I filled out the forms necessary. Having completed that task, one of the nurses showed me around, and told me what my responsibilities would be.

The time flew, and Geoffrey refused to let me eat my prepared lunch. "This is a day to celebrate for both of us. I'm taking you to The Highland Inn … my treat."

. . . . .

The dining area was crowded, and I marveled that we got seated so promptly. The mystery was solved, as the doctor appeared to have certain privileges, such as a standing order for a reserved table. A salad was served instantly, and once our forks dug into the bed of lettuce, the conversation flowed.

"I've never met your husband, and I guess now, I never will. Divorce is a big decision, but I'm certain he has his reasons. In my case, I was very seldom home. My wife was lonely, and felt abandoned."

"That sounds reasonable. Similarly, Frank and I were so long apart, we were veritable strangers in our own marriage."

"I imagine your Frank was somewhat changed after the war, as we all were, poor sod. Perhaps this is for the best."

"Dr. Tanner …"

"Geoffrey … please …"

"Geoffrey, you need to be aware that I have a new man in my life—a Scotsman. We live together. Will that cast any bearing on your hiring me?"

"Life happens, and what occurs in your private affairs is no one's business but your own. I'm not one to cast stones. As long as you remember how to use a stethoscope, that's all that matters." With a twinkle in his eyes, he added, "By the way, does this Scotsman make you happy?"

"Very."

"Well, there you are. I want each of my staff to be happy. Welcome to Glebe Street Clinic."

At the close of operating hours, I asked the receptionist where the nearest coach stop was. Dr. Tanner heard me, and said, "Claire, I'll take you home today. You can ride the coach tomorrow."

All the way to the cottage, I had time to ponder the events of the day. While I was successful in my job search, I speculated about whether or not Jamie had found anything suitable. It would be a blow to his pride if he came up empty-handed, especially since I would be ensconced in a useful occupation. He might even be jealous of my association with Dr. Tanner.

It was dusk when we rolled up onto the graveled drive to the house. Obviously, the absence of light coming from the interior would raise suspicion. I lied to the man. "It appears I have returned home before my fella."

"It would appear so. I'll see you tomorrow, Claire."

I reached for the door handle, and opening the passenger side, stepped out onto the driveway. With that, he pulled away, and onto the road. I walked into the house, and was immediately assaulted by the aroma of meat cooking. The smell was heavenly. Jamie heard my footfalls, and came in from the kitchen.

My first thought was, if he had time to gut and skin the animals I saw roasting over the fire on the hearth, then he was either home early because he found a job, or came home discouraged. Not wishing to diminish him in his own eyes, I tried to restrain my enthusiasm in announcing my news.

In three quick strides, Jamie was clutching me to his chest. "Welcome home, Sassenach. "Did ye find any work?"

"Yes, indeed. It was actually a fluke. I accidentally bumped into a doctor whom I assisted during the war, and he offered me a job. What about you?"

"Nay, no today, but I expect to speak to MacGregor on the morrow."

I smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "I'm sure he'll offer you the position. No one is a better horse boffin than you are."

"A boffin, ye say?"

"Yes. You know … an expert."

He smirked at me, suddenly, twirling a tendril of my hair about his index finger. "Oh, aye. So, would ye say I was a boffin at makin' love to ye?"

I raised both eyebrows. "That goes without saying …"

He looked over his shoulder at the food still roasting. "The food willna be ready for awhile yet, I expect."

Subtle, very subtle.

He reached for my hand. Looked like dinner would bloody well wait for quite a while.