It was clear to Wyatt that Lucy and Rufus were up to something – this past week, especially they were almost always together, whispering in corners, scuttling off here and there, rifling through cookbooks, casting him sidelong glances whenever he approached….and well, dammit…he was just fine with that. The less he knew of their plans the better. Lucy and Rufus may not have a had a problem playing God, but he sure as hell did. So, if they wanted to plot and scheme and plan…more power to them.
He didn't want any part of it.
It wasn't as if he was ignorant of the situation. Of course, it would make things harder for John to go back to his wife if Mary was pregnant…but he still didn't feel like that was any of their business. If John wanted to start a family with Mary – dammit, who were they to tell him he couldn't? Let him deal with the consequences of his own bad decisions.
Wyatt figured he had enough to worry about without having to concern himself with other people's lives.
Over the course of the next few days, therefore, Wyatt did his best to avoid anything and everything that had to do with John, Jane, and Mary Fraser…including Lucy and Rufus and all of their nefarious plotting. He would spend his days, therefore, hunting in the woods or working in their garden, planting a few winter crops like carrots and parsnips to sustain them through the coming months of cold weather.
Unlike Lucy, Wyatt didn't mind the backbreaking work of the 18th century. There was something he found fundamentally gratifying about growing and gathering his own food. He had hunted before, yes…but he had never been much of a gardener before, aside from helping his Grandpa Sherwin grow a few tomatoes in the dry dusty climate of West Texas. He had always considered it more a hobby than a necessity…but here? He absolutely had come to appreciate the benefits of being self-sufficient. Hell, here it was a damn necessity.
Though he missed the comforts of modern life, Wyatt could not deny that he liked it in 1754. Of course, it wasn't without its dangers and risks, but more often than not it was peaceful and quiet…and he liked the quiet. When he'd spend his says trekking through the woods hunting, he stood in awe at the beauty of the fiery red and orange laden branches reaching up towards a sky that was spectacularly blue and clear. No smoke, no smog, no ugly telephone wires defacing the landscape. This untouched wilderness was nothing like he had ever known in 2016…even on some of his remotest missions. In West Texas, too, there wasn't much in the way of woods. Mesquite trees, maybe a few cedars dotted a mostly flat and pretty barren landscape. Occasionally one might find a forest full of Live Oaks or Pecan trees, but it was nothing like this – rolling hills and valleys as far as the eye could see, thick forests with bubbling streams, teeming with wildlife.
If he were given a choice- to stay here and live out the rest of his days or go back to a life filled with regret and misery in 2016 – Wyatt knew which one he would choose….in a heartbeat. He loved these woods, he loved the fresh air…but mostly he loved his little cabin. Maybe it was the fact that he had spent so much time fixing it up with his own two hands…maybe it was just the fact that he had always wanted a nice, quiet place in the country…maybe it was just being grateful to have a place to live after being stranded here like they were…whatever it was, he was proud of that house…and felt that out of all the places he had ever lived, this one – for all its deficiencies…felt more like home.
Of course, it didn't hurt that here he wasn't alone…having someone to come home to every day…even if he was avoiding her right now…well, it was a far cry better than eating take out in an empty, sterile apartment every damn night.
But that was the problem. He couldn't afford to get attached to this place…it wasn't an option. This wasn't real. He didn't belong here…they didn't belong here. Rufus had promised them that he would never give up trying to get them home…and well, someday he knew it would happen. Wyatt had to believe it would…not just for himself, but for Lucy and Rufus.
His life may not have been ideal in 2016…but dammit, getting back to it was the only way he could save Jessica. His real wife. His ONLY wife. Rufus had his family and Lucy…she had her mother, and Amy to save and…a fiancé to get back home to.
Then, of course, there was the knowledge that Jane Fraser would be making her appearance sometime in the next few months. As much as Wyatt should have wanted to see John happy…to see him realize something he wanted so badly for himself…he couldn't even muster up a smidgen of excitement for that day…a day which he hoped and prayed they would not be here to witness. Seeing Mary brokenhearted, having to witness John…caught between two women he loved? No. Wyatt had absolutely no desire to stick around for that.
He was determined - the best way to get them out of this whole mess, was to get them the hell out of here as soon as possible. The sooner they got back to the present, the better. He was sure that if they just went home, everything would just work out for the best because…because…
Well, not because of fate…that was for damn sure.
It was them…they were the reason all of this went to hell. Apparently saving Lucy from the French fort, someplace she should have never been in the first place, had caused all sorts of ripple effects. It wasn't just the French and British going to war months earlier than they were supposed to…no –because of the French attack on John Fraser's farm and Lucy's "pregnancy"- it was now erasing people from the timeline.
And not just a few people either.
Eight kids. Eight. And how many kids were those kids supposed to have? And grandchildren? And great-grandchildren? How many people would it affect in 2016? How many fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives would just…disappear?
All because he had saved Lucy.
He didn't regret doing that, of course…but he just wasn't prepared to go to the lengths Lucy and Rufus seemed willing to go to fix it. He meant what he said…it was John's life. He should have the right to make his own damn decisions. Maybe John would be just fine if he chose to stay with Mary. Maybe they could have eight kids together and….and…it would make up for the fact that he didn't have them with Jane?
Who was to say it wouldn't work out like that? Eight kids are eight kids, right? Did it really matter who had them? Maybe some version of Amy was out there in 2016 right now…living her life? She just wasn't Lucy's sister. Maybe in this timeline she was someone else's sister.
Hell, he didn't know…but what he did know was that after hearing John tell him how much Mary wanted a child he could not justify intervening in the way Lucy and Rufus seemed so intent on. Maybe it was because Jessica had always wanted a baby and he had always brushed it off…maybe that guilt was driving him, but he just couldn't bring himself to becoming the reason someone else was denied their hope for parenthood…no matter what the consequences. Lucy didn't understand. She, Wyatt figured, had probably never wanted a child of her own…too focused on her career and all that came with it. Of course, this version of her wasn't really engaged to that Dr…whatever his name was…so maybe the idea of starting a family had never even crossed her mind. Maybe if she had ever really thought about motherhood, she'd be less inclined to deny it for someone else.
Ugh.
They should have just been honest to begin with. So, what if Lucy wasn't really his sister or his wife? John was a reasonable man. If Wyatt had just explained that she was just a friend…someone he was bound to protect…and as such she was going to be living with him…and Rufus…in the one room cabin…
…
Well, it didn't matter now. Every time they tried to fix something, things only got worse - so if they left, it would all just work itself out. Right?
Right.
He was just going to have to tell Rufus to try harder on getting them back home, that's all.
It was with that intention that Wyatt made his way to John Fraser's farm, taking care to avoid the house at all costs and sticking mainly to the forge in search of Rufus. Rufus, however, was nowhere to be found…but to his great disappointment, John Fraser was.
"Ah, Wyatt, my lad! I haven't seen you in ages, been keeping yourself busy, I suppose?"
"I guess you could say that." Wyatt replied awkwardly.
Ever since that bombshell revelation Lucy had dropped on him in regards to Jane, Wyatt couldn't bring himself to willingly face John…or Mary. Seeing the two of them together, happy, completely oblivious to the devastation that would come to their marriage in just a few short months made Wyatt wish that he was ignorant of the whole damn thing.
Devastation.
That seemed like too strong a word…and yet, not strong enough.
"It's just as it should be." John groaned as he shook off his coat and laid it over the anvil. "You have your own family to care for and have your own preparations for winter…but I must say, I do miss our conversations. Tom, would you mind handing me that carved stock there? I think this piece will fit in there nicely."
Wyatt watched as John Fraser fit a barrel onto a beautifully carved rifle stock, standing in complete awe of his friend's craftsmanship. "Fine gun." Wyatt observed with a nod.
"Aye, and there's many more like it to be made." John replied as he carefully secured it into place. "You would do well to learn this trade, yourself." he muttered, his attention still on his handiwork, "Lots of money to be made in it…particularly now when war is so close upon us. Can't wait for arms from the Motherland, now can we?"
"No, I guess not." Wyatt replied…though he really had no interest in discussing the impending war with the French. It was just another reminder that they had changed history…and well, he was really trying to not think about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to get the hell out of here. "You um…haven't seen Rufus, have you?"
"As a matter of fact, I have." John answered, surprised. "He told me he was working on a very important project for you…"
"Me…or Lucy?" Wyatt asked with a huff.
"One is as good as the other I thought…but now I think on it, it may very well have been your wife." he replied with a shrug. "She was with him, after all – they've both been at the house quite a bit these past few days."
"At your house? Why?" Wyatt asked, not really wanting to know the answer.
John shrugged, "When he's not been here helping Tom and myself, Rufus has been fetching different supplies and herbs for Mrs. Poe…so that she can spend more time schooling your wife."
"Schooling?" Wyatt asked with narrowed eyes, "What do you mean…"
"It's my understanding that your wife has been taking baking lessons from Mrs. Poe. They've concocted all sorts of interesting cakes and pastries together. Mary and I have been enjoying them immensely…though I must say some taste a bit queer." Wyatt breathed out a curse…something that did not escape John Fraser's notice. "Something wrong?"
"No." Wyatt grunted in reply, his guilt mounting, "It's just…they're up to something…that I just…I would rather they not do."
"Mmmm… I take it you do not like surprises?" John observed slyly.
Wyatt let out an incredulous laugh, "No. I don't. Which is why I think you should…" Wyatt bit his lip…dammit. Right now, he was finding it very difficult not to just blurt out that Jane was alive and probably by now, on her way home and let John deal with the information as he saw fit.
Still, he had promised Lucy.
Lucy, who was probably drugging them both right now with God knows what.
"Listen, John." Wyatt began, "I don't know how to tell you this…but Lucy…well…um…Lucy…"
"Lucy is no longer with child." John replied with a sad smile, "Yes, son…we know - and I am sorry to hear it."
Wyatt stared back at him completely dumbfounded. "Wh…what?"
"Now don't be cross at her for telling us." John urged, "She was in a right state about it…truly…it broke our hearts to see her so dejected." Wyatt gaped at him as he continued, "Which is why I make no complaints about her keeping herself so busy in our kitchen…it has lifted her spirits considerably, I'm told."
"I bet." Wyatt replied flatly.
"It is fortunate that she was not further along. Such a shock to her constitution could have killed her…which is why," John reiterated, "I must insist that you think seriously of Williamsburg…or at least Philadelphia. Your wife's health is…"
"Is fine." Wyatt finished for him tersely. "She's fine. Lucy is stronger than she looks."
"You know her best." John acknowledged with a curt nod.
On the contrary, Wyatt was now beginning to think he didn't know Lucy at all. What in the hell was she up to? It was one thing to talk about drugging Mary Fraser with any number of herbal cocktails to keep her from getting pregnant…but playing on their sympathy so she could infiltrate their kitchen and have access to all of her damn meals?
That was low…too low for Lucy Preston.
"Is she…"
"At the house?" John asked as he returned to his work, "Aye," he replied, "that she is – baking cakes today, I believe." Wyatt cursed again and John considered him for a moment before dropping his file and picking up his jacket, "Tom, would you be so kind as to finish up those last two muskets for me? I'd like to have a word with Mr. Wyatt." Motioning for Wyatt to follow him, he led him out the forge door and made his way towards the house, "I know there's a good deal of worry on your mind, lad…that's to be expected after a blow such as this…but you must believe that she's in good hands with Mrs. Poe. She won't let her work more than what she can rightly stand."
"That's not…I mean, I didn't…"
"Keeping busy will keep her from despair…and you too, of course." John sagely replied, "I suppose those are all your pheasants currently hanging in my smokehouse?" Wyatt nodded in reply, but said nothing. "And the rabbits, too?" Again, Wyatt nodded. "You have quite the skill – a valuable one at that. All cleanly shot, skinned and dressed nicely…there's good money to be had in game hunting, you know."
Wyatt shrugged, "I'm just trying to make sure we're all set for winter, that's all."
John led the way past the kitchen, towards the house - the aroma of freshly baked cakes wafting through the air creating an abysmal pit in his stomach at the thought of what Lucy was doing. He attempted to spy her through the window, to maybe catch her in the act of lacing cake batter…or even some frosting with whatever medieval remedy she had discovered for birth control, but it was no use…John was marching him through the yard at a determined pace and seemed in no mood to dawdle.
Besides, the less he knew the better…right?
Right.
As they entered the house, John shook of his coat once again and led Wyatt into the study where a roaring fire was already in the grate as if waiting for the two of them. Offering Wyatt a seat, John began, "I wanted to let you know that I decided I would not sell to Gibbs. You're right…this land is of too much value to me to give it up entirely.
Surprised by the turn of the conversation and relieved at his pronouncement, Wyatt sighed, "That's…that's great news." And it was more than a little vindicating. Just as he had figured, John had done the right thing…without any help or scheming on their part. "Really," Wyatt chuckled as he took a tumbler of scotch from John's outstretched hand, "you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that."
"I thought you might be pleased." John stated knowingly, pouring out a glass of scotch for himself, "I think you probably love this place as much as I do…"
"Who wouldn't love it?" Wyatt agreed, taking a sip before adding quietly, "The trees, the hills…you're lucky. Where I'm from, people could work their whole lives and not be able to afford a place like this."
"Hard work isn't luck." John replied with a smile, "Though, it does yield great rewards if one is willing to take it on." He nodded to Wyatt and added with a sigh, "You have so much talent…yet you seem…hesitant to capitalize on it." He frowned at Wyatt, "I haven't quite been able to figure out why…"
"I just want a simple life." Wyatt replied quietly.
"Indeed, there's nothing wrong with that." John acknowledged, "But you seem to have no ambition beyond the small farm here…my boy, you take no thought for the future. Working this land is fine for now…but do you not want a place of your own?"
"Well, sure….but…"
"I think I know why you have been so hesitant to chase after opportunity…" John began knowingly.
"Oh but I haven't…" Wyatt lied, but once again, John Fraser dismissed him with a wave.
"You wlll not commission, though you are clearly a superb fighter, you show interest in gunsmithing, but yet…are indifferent to learn, you are a skilled hunter, but shrug off any idea that money could be made from such an enterprise." Wyatt made to protest, but John Fraser spoke over him, "Clearly, your Quaker roots are strong….but will they sustain you and your wife when war comes? And I feel I must tell you...war is coming."
Wyatt swallowed hard, "War was already here. Whether they officially declared it or not…"
"That's quite astute of you, lad and indeed, I believe you are correct. Jumonville Glen and Necessity were not mere skirmishes…they are, I think indicative of something greater, darker…just looming over the horizon. The French have made it clear, they mean to stay…and fight if needs be…and Braddock, I'm quite sure will not be inclined to negotiate anything but their swifty removal."
Wyatt scoffed, knowing the history, "You really think Braddock can push the French out of Fort Duquense?"
"He's coming with 2100 men." John answered thoughtfully, "The French can't have more than 300-400 men at their disposal and the guns Braddock's brought with him? Why, the walls of Duquesne would fall instantaneously. The war would be over before it even began."
Wyatt eyed him over his tumbler, "But you don't think he can do it?"
John cast him a sidelong glance and sighed heavily, "He doesn't know the area. The terrain. The people." Rubbing a weary hand across his face he admitted, "Braddock wants to carve a new road between here and Fort Cumberland…headed straight for the heart of Duquesne. While I have to admire his pioneering spirit…he'd be wiser to listen to the advice of those who have already done battle with the French and their allies."
For once, Wyatt was grateful for Lucy's history lessons. He took a sip from his tumbler and replied thoughtfully, "Like George Washington?"
John Fraser raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed, "Why, yes. Fine lad. Bit young…got a bit of a bad shake for his surrender at Necessity…but he knows the area, knows what the French are capable of….and understands how these savages fight. Braddock? " John dismissed with a shake of his head, "He thinks this war will be fought like they are in Europe….a gentleman's war. There are no gentlemen in this land." he said almost absent-mindedly, "I've seen the skulls of men crushed by tomahawks…the scalps of women and children put on display. Braddock does not understand these things…and will not listen."
"No?"
"No." John replied curtly, "I've had it from Colonel McKee, himself…" he said resignedly pulling a letter from his waistcoat pocket, "Braddock intends on fighting this war as they did in Austria…and it will be the death of many."
"But I thought you were…I thought you said…I mean, before…at dinner…."
"My boy, we are not all soldiers here." he smiled at him sadly, "The people of this country need to believe their Army will protect them. They must have faith in their leaders. I hoped, rather than believed that Braddock would humble himself before the Assembly in Williamsburg…but it appears that was not the case. The list of demands, the expectation he has of support from the colonial government?" He scoffed, "He has no idea what he is getting into. So," John sighed, "it behooves me to tell you that I will be quitting my home for a time, so that I can do what I can to quell disaster."
"Wh..what do you mean?" Wyatt asked anxiously. "You're not leaving?"
"I am." John said with a determined nod, "I must away to Cumberland – there I can supply the army with guns, bullets…whatever they need…and try to talk some sense into the command there."
"But what about Mary?"
"She will be at my side." he assured, "Indeed, she will be better protected there than here, I'm afraid. Which is why I wished to speak to you." He turned to Wyatt seriously, 'I know city living holds no charm for you…just as it holds no charm for me, but I implore you….get to safety as soon as you can. This is not about bravery or cowardice…it is about avoiding possible starvation. With an entire army of 2100 marching through this area….even if they are cutting a new road….they will take what they can from the surrounding farms, leaving very little if anything fit for consumption."
'When?" Wyatt asked, his jaw clenched.
"Braddock left Williamsburg last week. With an army that large, he will move slowly…but I imagine he'll be at Cumberland sometime next month. My offer still stands you know?" John reminded him, "You can quit to Williamsburg and be quite comfortable there…far away from all of this."
Wyatt shook his head. With that many men…if they fought to the south of Fort Duquense…the Lifeboat would be right in their path – they had to get the hell out of here. "John…I….I….can't…."
"Now I know you want just a simple life….but I want you to consider working for me…with me. Trade, my lad. Gunsmithing. Bringing in supplies and goods from all over the colonies, building relationships with our native neighbors." Wyatt stammered out another protest, but John waved him off, "You've already proven to be a capable hunter and with the French cornering the market on the fur trade, your skills are quite valuable. The British are far more interested in settling and building cities, planting crops…they don't see the opportunities missed here in the frontier – too focused on the East."
"With our combined skillset, we could build up a quite the trade empire. I already have connections with the natives through Colonel McKee and with Fort Cumberland not so very far off, I have a steady market for my guns. But fresh meat? Furs? Your man and his knack for agricultural advances? It would open up an entirely new market for those of us who would rather not do business with the French." Wyatt attempted to dismiss him with a shake of his head, but John pressed on, "Mary and I have been talking about this for days. If you go to Williamsburg, you can meet with valuable contacts…or if you prefer, you can come to Cumberland with me….though, I must say…fort life may not appeal to your wife. It's hard work…even for the women."
"John…I….I…"
"I know it's a lot to take in at once, but I am serious. I see something in you, lad…you would make fine partner. And," he added as he limped across the room to his desk, "as a show of how serious I am about this venture, here," he said lifting up a piece of parchment, "for you." Eyeing him warily, Wyatt made his way towards John and took the proffered paper. "I was going to wait to give this to you, but considering the circumstance…"
Wyatt's eyes widened as he read, "John, I…I can't accept…"
"It would be an insult to me if you did not." John Fraser stated firmly, "The land is yours – free and clear. I only bought that piece of land as a favor to an old friend...I have little use for it and you have done much to improve it. You've more than earned the rights to own it."
"But John…"
"Don't worry about the house…we can fix it up to something more suitable in size when this business with the French is over….by then, if we're diligent in our work, we'll have both made a small fortune from this war and can finally settle down in peace and quiet."
"You've done so much for us already…" Wyatt dismissed, shaking his head, "…really, you don't have to…"
"Nonsense. Do you not wish to be in a position to care for your family?" John asked. "I know you strive to live up to your Quaker upbringing….but the fact is you came to my aid when it counted, you took up arms to defend our home…that you use your skills to provide for your family…and ours…why not use your skills to secure your future?"
Wyatt held the deed in his hand, strangely wishing he were the Wyatt Logan John Fraser believed he was. He would never be afforded an opportunity like this in 2016 - never just be handed acres of land because he improved it and saved his landlord's life. The life that was just a lie…didn't have to be. He could choose it if he wanted…stay here, live a life that wasn't filled with regret…but….
"Lucy…"
"Yes, you'll want to talk it over with your wife, of course." John nodded, "It's an important decision after all, but I do hope you'll seriously consider all that I have said."
Wyatt nodded, but said nothing.
"Excellent." John replied, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my muskets. I want to get a fair few made before we set off for Cumberland. It will be nice to have a good supply of arms for the men there." he explained before snapping his fingers, "Oh…and I almost forgot. I'll need you to sign for your package here…I've already given it to your wife."
"A package?" Wyatt asked, confused.
"Aye, shirts…and a petticoat, I believe it was?" John replied as he crossed looked into account book. "Ah, here it is" he announced pulling out a quill "and I took the liberty of ordering something a bit extra, you can tell her it's from you, lad." he added with a wink.
Agitated and anxious, Wyatt made a beeline for the kitchen as soon as he left John Fraser's study. Hardly in the mood for formalities, Wyatt burst through the kitchen door half expecting Mrs. Poe to kick him right back out of it. Lucy, however, was alone – her hair drawn up away from her face and her apron completely covered in flour and batter as she carefully lifted a cake out from the brick oven.
"I think this one looks better than the last one, don't you think…." she turned and gasped in surprise at the sight of him, nearly dropping the cake to the floor. "Wyatt? What…what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Wyatt replied flatly.
Lucy flushed furiously, "Well, I just…I thought I would…"
Wyatt nodded at her impatiently as she attempted to stammer out an explanation, but he couldn't wait for her to finish. Instead, he rounded on her, "When were you going to tell me about the baby?"
"What baby?" Lucy asked him blankly.
"Our baby." Wyatt spat out, as Lucy stared back at him in confusion, "You know what I mean," he corrected, flustered, "the baby we were supposedto be having."
"Oh, that…" Lucy replied off-handedly, before narrowing her eyes in confusion, "wait, how did you…"
"Nevermind how." Wyatt snapped, "Don't you think I should have been told that you lost it?"
"I didn't lose anything, Wyatt. The baby wasn't real." Lucy reminded him but at his glare she amended, "You're right, I'm sorry, I should have told you. But, you were off in the woods somewhere and it was just…I thought that maybe if I…" she sighed heavily as Wyatt continued to glare at her, "I know...it...it wasn't the greatest thing to do...but I didn't know what else to do. I didn't mean to upset you…I…I thought you'd be relieved."
"Relieved?" Wyatt stared back at her in disbelief.
"Well, why wouldn't you be?" she asked, defensively, "I didn't want to pretend anymore, okay? And. I thought you didn't either. Besides," she added in a conspiratorial whisper, "I think it helped us out with our problem…"
"Oh yeah, I know all about that." Wyatt scoffed in annoyance, glancing around the kitchen. "So, what are you doing? Lacing all of her meals? Baking things into her cakes?"
"Wyatt, I…
"Nevermind." he huffed angrily, "I don't want to know…but it's not going to make any difference now anyway."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Wyatt stated meaningfully, "that John Fraser and Mary are about to hightail it the hell out of here and go to Fort Cumberland."
"They can't do that." Lucy gasped. "What about Jane?"
"What about Jane?" Wyatt spat out, "Dammit, Lucy…I'm not here to play matchmaker okay? And neither are you." he added with a meaningful nod to the cake, "You need to let well enough alone. John can make his own decisions without any help from you."
Lucy startled back, bewildered, "What on Earth are you talking about?" She let out an annoyed scoff, "I'm not telling John anything."
"I know what you're doing." Wyatt said pointedly, "With all of these cakes? And cookies? And whatever else you've been making in here this past week." Lucy flushed furiously, but refused to meet his eye, "Lucy, I mean it…you need to just leave it alone."
Lucy shrugged innocently, "I don't know what you're talking about." she simpered as she began pouring more cake batter into a baking dish.
"The hell you don't." Wyatt scoffed, "Lucy, I mean it, if you do anything to Mary…"
Lucy rolled her eyes and hissed, "Relax. I'm not doing anything to Mary." But at Wyatt's disbelieving snort she rounded on him, "I thought you said you didn't want to know about any of this anyway? Isn't that what you said?"
"Well…yeah, but…"
"….that you didn't want any part of this?" she recalled with annoying clarity.
"Yes, but Lucy…."
"Then Wyatt," she continued haughtily, ignoring him, "This is none of your business."
He gaped at her, fuming…but he had no damn leg to stand on. She was right, he had told them to do whatever the hell they wanted…and they were. "Fine." he gritted out and Lucy smirked at him triumphantly. "Fine…do whatever the hell you want, but I mean it, Lucy…if anything happens to her…"
"Good-bye Wyatt." Lucy huffed out in exasperation, but Wyatt stayed right where he was, watching her like a hawk as she carefully scraped the out the remnants of the mixing bowl. Annoyed, Lucy rolled her eyes, "You know if I was going to poison Mary Fraser I wouldn't do it while you were standing here watching me like that."
"All the more reason for me to stay then." Wyatt hummed, leaning against the door, noting something that looked an awful look like panic in Lucy's eyes as she quickly scooped up the cake tin and carefully slid it into the brick oven. Feeling triumphant, Wyatt pulled out a stool from under the counter and took a seat, "Yeah, you know…maybe I will stay. Keep you company…"
Lucy's mouth drew up in a tense bow, before she let out a stiff laugh, "You don't have to keep me company, Mrs. Poe will be back as soon as she…"
"Oh it's no trouble." Wyatt assured her as he stretched out his legs and leaned back, "Go on, Lucy…make your cakes." Once again, Wyatt noted something that looked like panic in her eyes as she nervously rubbed her hands along her apron, desperately looking at anything and everything in the room besides him. "What's wrong?" he asked after a long pause, "forget the ingredients?"
She had just shot him a menacing glare when the sound of Mrs. Poe's voice, allowed her a sigh of relief. "…aye and that was what I told her, sir…but you know how she can be…" stopping short at the sight of Wyatt's outstretched legs, Mrs. Poe stood in the doorway, John Fraser close behind, as she glanced curiously around the room, "What's this then? " Wyatt sprung up from his stoop and muttered a quick apology as Mrs. Poe brushed past him, a roast wrapped in cheesecloth nestled in the basket hanging from her arm. "Here ye are, my dear, that should do nicely…go fetch that roasting pot and we'll set it over the fire once we get it good and seasoned." As Lucy crossed the kitchen, Mrs. Poe heaved out a sigh and began looking through her stores, "Now where did I put that sow thistle…?" she muttered.
"Don't trouble yourself too much over it, Mrs. Poe." John announced cordially, "I'm sure Mary will be fine with a bit of brandy and some honey as you say…"
Wyatt's interest piqued up, "Is something wrong with Mary?" he asked, shooting a glare towards Lucy.
John turned to him with a slight frown, "She's a bit indisposed today…and I'm afraid," he added nodding towards Lucy, "that it may very well affect our ability to join you this evening for dinner…I do hope you understand."
"Wait…what's this about dinner?" Wyatt asked, his suspicious gaze resting on an ever more agitated Lucy.
"It's nothing." Lucy quickly replied, but John Fraser chuckled.
"I'm sorry, I think I might have spoken a bit out of turn." he muttered apologetically, "Your dear wife invited Mary and I over for dinner this evening. It was um…meant to be a bit of a surprise, I'm afraid," he explained with an apologetic nod towards Lucy, "but I trust you will not be too disappointed by our absence."
Lucy stiffened momentarily as she glanced quickly at Wyatt and shrugged, "It's fine. I'm um…sure we can just do it another time. I can just make you both a plate to have here, if you'd like."
At her suggestion, Wyatt's eyes shot to her in alarm, but John Fraser, far from suspecting Lucy of any kind of ill-will, bowed to her gratefully, "That's very kind of you, thank you and we'd be happy to join you at your home as soon as we can….when my dear Mary is feeling more herself," John assured her. But Wyatt was not so easily appeased…
"Wait a minute." He started, his voice shaking with alarm, "Are you telling me that Mary is sick?"
"Oh it's nothing to be concerned about, lad." John Fraser assured him, but Wyatt wasn't looking at John, he was looking at Lucy who was back to looking wholly innocent and unconcerned as she seasoned the roast. "It's just a wee cough and a headache…nothing that won't pass with some rest and a bit of time." he explained, before adding with a smile towards Lucy, "You know, I think she wouldn't say no to those cookies you baked her yesterday. You wouldn't happen to have more of them on hand, now would ye?"
A broad grin spread across Lucy's face as she caught Wyatt's frantic eye, "As a matter of fact I do." she replied, pointing to a canister on the opposite counter, "here," she offered, "let me get some for you." Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed over to the counter, ignoring Wyatt's multiple attempts to catch her eye as she neatly arranged the cookies on a plate and handed them to John Fraser.
"Thank ye, dear." he offered gratefully, "I was just telling your husband what a great help you've been to us here." Lucy nodded triumphantly, shooting Wyatt a meaningful glare as he continued, "So glad you have found something to fill up your day and bring you some joy."
"Well, I don't know about joy." Lucy admitted as Mrs. Poe snorted behind her, "But I am learning…and well, that…at least, is something."
"Indeed it is." John replied, turning to Wyatt who was still staring daggers at Lucy, "See, lad….your wife may not be a natural in the kitchen but here she is practicing her skill to the benefit of more than just your small family. Think of how well a new skill would work for you…you who already so adept at hunting and farming…my offer still stands you know, I'd be more than happy to teach you a few things…"
""I think that's a great idea." Lucy piped up. "In fact," she added with a meaningful nod towards John, "why don't you and Wyatt take the rest of the afternoon and…"
Wyatt shook his head at her in disbelief, "You're kidding, right? John just said Mary…"
"Oh, I can look after Mary." Lucy offered causally, wrapping up the cookies, "It's no trouble at all."
"No...I don't think that's a good id…" Wyatt began but he was cut off by an exultant John Fraser who happily clapped him on the back.
"Oh lad, how can you be opposed when your wife is so willing to spare you for the afternoon?" he jested before assuring Lucy, "I doubt you'll need to worry yourself too much over Mary - she's resting comfortably now….and Margaret has her well in hand…and of course, Mrs. Poe…you worry about your preparations there," he said pointing to her roast with a wink, "and I'll make sure to keep an eye on your young man, here."
Wyatt, again, tried to protest, but no sooner had he started in on the reasons why Lucy should not be left in charge of any kind of meal preparation, particularly one that would be served to Mary, than he found himself being dragged away by John Fraser. Stumbling backwards outside of the kitchen door, Wyatt glared at Lucy accusingly as she waved him off, a triumphant smile plastered on her flour-coated face.
Notes:
I know. I know...it's been over 2 months since this was updated...and this update was/is shorter than normal - but there's a very good reason for both of those things. First, the holidays - they always throw me for a loop. Second, This chapter was actually double what you're getting right now. I actually had this MONSTER chapter all ready to go last month and ended up rewriting almost the ENTIRE thing because I hated it...hated it...hated it. I re-read it, and then re-read it again...and then made a few changes...and then read it again...and then just ended up rewriting basically the whole thing. What I have published for you right now is actually the first half of that rewrite because I didn't want to make you wait another month before I could get the second half of that monster finished, proofread and posted. There's so many moving parts with this fic, trying to get everything addressed and taken care of so we can move the story forward is a lot of work...but believe it or not, we're getting close to the end - which is great because I wrote the last chapter of this fic at the same time as the 1st chapter and my goodness it will be nice to finally get that one dusted off and published for you all...it's only been sitting in my computer files for what? Two years? LOL. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this update - good news is, the second half of this chapter shouldn't be too far behind...I just wanted to get SOMETHING out to you all before the end of the month and...well, this is what was ready.
Thanks for reading!