2 March, 1764

Cìosamul Castle, Isle of Barra, Scotland

JAMIE POV

Finally glad to be off of the water, Jamie stepped onto the dock of Cìosamul Castle and immediately vomited over the side. "There ye are, Da," said Archie, giving his father a firm pat on the back. "Feelin' better?"

"I… dinnae want te set foot on another ship again," Jamie muttered as Archie handed him a bladder of water, which he gladly took a swig of.

"Well, if ye want te go back te Lallybroch, ye'll have te endure another, but dinnae fash, I'm a good sailor. I'll get us there with minimal rockin'," Archie replied playfully, and Jamie narrowed his eyes at him - Archie had sailed them from Castlebay to the castle and he deliberately hit every wave and laughed while his father turned green in the face.

"Like hell ye will, ye wee bastard," Jamie replied, standing up straight as the aging Ronald made his way out onto the dock.

"My, my, I didnae think I'd see that face again!" Ronald said excitedly once he saw Archie. "Look at ye, a ghille ruadh beag ! Though yer no' so wee now, are ye?"

"Good te see ye, Ronald!" Archie said to him playfully, grasping Ronald's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Christ, yer a man now!" Ronald said as he looked up at Archie. "And as tall as yer grandsire was! 'Tis a shame wee meek Cillian is te be the next Laird. Ye look the part much more."

"Nonsense, I'm sure Cillian'll do fine, Ronald," Archie told him. "Is my uncle in?"

"Aye, in his study. He'll be glad te see ye. Both of ye, my goodness, Mr. Fraser! I thought ye were dead, I did," said Ronald excitedly to Jamie, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"I'm surprised yer still kickin' aboot as well, Ronald," Jamie replied, teasing the auld man. Both Archie and Jamie made their way to the Laird's study, which no longer had a guard standing outside of the door as it had used to, and Archie tapped lightly on the door.

"Come in," Cailean said from inside, and Archie opened the door to see Cailean, his grandfather's old set of reading spectacles balanced on his nose, bent over a pile of papers with a quill on his hand - an appearance Eairdsidh Ruadh had taken on quite frequently. It was surprising how similar Cailean actually was to his grandfather despite not seeming so beforehand. Cailean glanced up at his visitors, then widened his eyes and smiled. "Christ, is that my wee nephew?" he asked, and Archie laughed.

"Aye, Uncle, it's me," Archie replied as Cailean got up, setting the quill and spectacles on the table and approaching Archie to embrace him.

"Christ, if I didnae ken any better, I'd have thought ye were yer grandsire!" Cailean exclaimed, and then he noticed Jamie standing in the doorframe. "Jamie? I mean, I kent ye were with Archie, but I… I didnae expect te see ye…"

"Aye," Jamie replied, then letting out a soft chuckle as Cailean embraced him. "Christ, man, ye've got grey hairs, ye auld bastard!"

"Bein' the Laird and Clan Chief will do that te ye," Cailean replied, acknowledging the subtle salt and pepper colour of the front of his hair. It was still predominantly dark brown, but it was clear that he was in his early forties - the subtle wrinkles by his eyes and the corners of his mouth indicated that as well. "Ye still look the same as ye did when I saw ye last!"

"I'm still an auld man, same as ye," Jamie replied, teasing him. "Is my daughter aboot? I should like te see her."

"Brèagha? Aye, she'll be around here somewhere," Cailean replied, leading the two of them out of the study. "We have a studio fer paintin' portraits that she spends a lot of time in but sometimes, she'll be in the library as well. Let's have a look." Cailean led them into the library, where Cillian, Caoimhe and Calum were, but there was no Brèagha in sight. As soon as the door opened, the three now grown Fowlis children all looked up from their tasks - Cillian from his book and Caoimhe and Calum from their chess game - and Caoimhe let out a gasp.

"Uncle Jamie!" Caoimhe cried with excitement, jumping up and running to embrace Jamie.

"Caoimhe, lass!" Jamie exclaimed as he embraced his niece, then pulled away to look at the now sixteen-year-old lass. "Look at ye, as bonny as yer mother, ye are."

"Thanks, Uncle. Ye dinnae look so bad yerself," said Caoimhe happily as Jamie admired her appearance. She was a little taller than her mother was and had Saoirse's beautiful blonde hair, but it was Cailean's silvery Fowlis eyes that she had instead.

"Uncle Jamie," said Cillian, also sixteen, having stood and approached them as well as Caoimhe let go of Jamie to embrace her cousin.

"And you are the spit of yer father, Cillian, save fer yer mother's bonny green eyes," Jamie said, ruffling Cillian's brown curls. What he failed to mention was that Cillian was abnormally short, which he must have inherited from his mother. "It's good te see ye, a ghille donn ."

"Ye as well, Uncle. Have ye come te stay?" Cillian asked him with a hopeful look in his eye.

"Aye, fer a bit," Jamie told his nephew. "Where's yer cousin gone off te?"

"Oh, Bree? She likes te spend her days in the studio," Caoimhe chimed in.

"Jamie, I'd like te introduce te ye my auldest son," said Cailean, gesturing for Calum to come and greet Jamie. Calum, like Cillian, resembled his father greatly, although his face shape was a little different and his skin was a darker colour. He also had eyes the colour of warm whisky - traits he must have gotten from his mother.

"A pleasure te meet ye, laddie," Jamie said to the lad, who was the same age as Caoimhe and Cillian. "I'm yer Uncle Jamie - yer Auntie Catrìona's husband."

"It is… a pleasure to meet you as well, sir," said Calum a bit meekly. He seemed rather shy for a son of Cailean, but he wasn't meant to be Laird, so it wasn't all that big of a deal.

"A bonny lad, isnae he?" Cailean asked Jamie. "Ye'll have te meet my daughter, Riona, as well. She's six now, she'll be seven this September. Ye'd be shocked at how much she looks like Cat."

"Oh, aye?" Jamie replied.

"She's got Mam's eyes, but aye, she does look like Auntie Cat," Caoimhe chimed in. "Shall I go and fetch her, Da?"

"I'm sure yer uncle wants te see Bree so he'll meet yer wee sister at supper," Cailean replied to his daughter. "I'm afraid I have te return te some paperwork, but Archie kens where the studio is and can take ye there."

"Oh, aye, I spent many a day in there," said Archie, rolling his eyes playfully. "We'll see ye at supper, Uncle." Giving Caoimhe a playful shove on his way out, Archie led Jamie out of the library and up to the top floor of the castle, where the studio was located. He lightly tapped on the door and awaited a response. "She's yelled at me many times fer scarin' her by bargin' in," Archie explained to his father. "I dinnae think she heard me." He knocked again, this time eliciting a response.

"Come in," said a matured female voice inside, and suddenly, Jamie felt butterflies in his stomach. The last time he had seen his daughter, she had been a wee lass of five years old, and now, she would be seventeen years old, soon to be eighteen. By this point, she would practically be a woman with courses and breasts and dear God , would he have to start chasing lads away from his daughter? Were lads already chasing her? His thoughts were cut off as Archie opened the door, revealing inside a lass seated with her back to the door, her long, thick red curls cascading down her back like a waterfall. In one hand, Jamie could see a palate, messy with paint, and the other hand was visible as it added the final touches to the sky of a painting of the bay, which could be seen out of the window on the opposite wall. She looked like her mother from behind, with her mother's feminine frame and thick red curls, but it was the front of her that Jamie was eager to see.

"Ah, now there's my bonny wee sister! I should have kent ye were up in yer cave!" Archie teased her, and Brèagha stopped and slowly turned around, looking absolutely nothing like the young lass he had left behind here. She had Jamie's jawline and slanted Fraser blue eyes, but she had her mother's mouth and nose. Her pale face was dotted with freckles, framed by the red curls that draped along the side like curtains. She had filled out a good deal, too, and the fact that she had grown into such a bonny young woman scared the hell out of Jamie. Where had his sweet little angel gone?

"Archie?" Brèagha asked, smiling her mother's smile and setting down her paints as she stood up to embrace her brother. When she stood, her tall height took Jamie aback a bit - she was even taller than Catrìona, having inherited Jamie's height, but she wasn't taller than Archie. "God, I didnae ken ye were comin'! Why didnae ye write?"

"We thought a surprise would be more fun," Archie said, smiling proudly at his sister as he pulled back from the embrace, and Brèagha raised an eyebrow.

"We?" she asked, then glanced at the door to see Jamie standing awkwardly in the doorframe. Her smile faded, and her eyes seemed to narrow a bit before they resumed their almond shape, and then she… curtsied to him? "Hello, Father. It's been a long time, hasnae it?"

"I…" Jamie muttered, a bit perplexed by this behaviour and tone. She… she wasn't happy to see him… That much was very clear. She didn't smile when she saw him, nor did she run to embrace him as she once had years ago. Even Archie sensed the tension between the father and his daughter, and he glanced awkwardly between them.

"Is… everrathin' all right?" Archie asked, looking to Brèagha for answers.

"Of course, why wouldnae it be?" she asked her brother, but her eyes hadn't been taken off of Jamie.

"Tha'… Ye ken tha's Da, right?" Archie asked her, equally confused by her behaviour.

"Of course I do. I recognise my own father," Brèagha replied neutrally.

"Brèagha…" Jamie muttered, approaching his daughter slowly. "My God… Look at ye… Yer a… Yer a woman now."

"Aye," Brèagha replied. "Time will do that te ye."

"Aye," Jamie replied quietly. "Christ, yer… Yer such a bonny lass…" He raised a hand to touch her cheek, but she pulled away from his hand, taking a step back from him.

"Bree, what the hell?" Archie demanded, seeing the pained look on his father's face. "Tha's Da . Ye love Da, why are ye actin' this way?"

"He's my father, aye, but I'd sooner call Uncle Cailean 'Da'," Brèagha replied somewhat coldly. "After all, he's the one tha's been here. Where have you been?"

"I… I was imprisoned, a leannan . I couldnae do anythin' aboot that," Jamie said to her, doing his best to explain his situation to her, but she seemed uninterested in explanations.

"So was Uncle Cailean, and he found a way te be here," Brèagha replied, and Archie scoffed.

"Uncle Cailean was lucky Grandsire was able te get him out of prison. He couldnae do tha' fer Da. We didnae even ken he was in prison," Archie said to her. "Brèagha, how could ye speak aboot Da this way?"

"He hasnae been here! What do ye expect me te do? Forget tha' he's been gone fer all this time?" Brèagha spat back at him, and then she looked at Jamie with her blue eyes narrowed. "I dinnae even ken ye! I dinnae ken who ye are! Yer my father, fine, but ye dinnae ken me and I dinnae ken you ."

"Brèagha, he didnae ken me either, but I spent time with him and we learned aboot each other," Archie said to her.

"And tha' was yer choice, ye had more time te ken Da. Me on the other hand, I barely remember him, nor do I remember much aboot my mother, and tha's his fault," Brèagha spat at Jamie, and once Jamie recovered from the shock of his daughter's dismissive behaviour, he narrowed his eyes at her.

"How dare ye say such a thing, Brèagha?" he demanded from her. "How dare ye disrespect me so? I am yer father! Ye dinnae speak te me that way! I didnae raise ye this way!"

"No, ye didnae raise me at all!" Brèagha spat at him.

"Oh, so yer sayin' yer uncle raised ye te be a wee brat?" Jamie asked her, and Brèagha scoffed.

"First ye've seen of yer only daughter in years and ye insult me," Brèagha said to him. "Why did ye even come back? We were fine here without ye, we were doin' fine!"

"Because he's our father, Brèagha, and he loves us!" Archie said to her.

"Well, I certainly dinnae feel that love," Brèagha spat back. "Will ye finally tell us what really happened te our mother? Because I find it hard te believe that she went te colonies without writin' once."

"Yer mother's situation is difficult te explain, but ken that she is safe, tha's all ye need te ken," Jamie told her firmly.

"No, it isnae all I need te ken. I deserve te ken what happened te my mother," Brèagha spat at him, and then she shook her head. "Ye ken what? I'll not hear anythin' more. I'll not speak te ye again until ye tell me what happened te her. I wish it was you who went away instead." With that said, she stubbornly pushed past both her father and brother, stalking out of the studio, and then Archie was on her tail.

"Brèagha! Brèagha, ye stop right this instant!" Archie called after her, their voices disappearing down the corridor. Jamie slowly glanced around the room, then sat down on the stool Brèagha had vacated. She hated him… All this time, all the love he held for his daughter, and she hated him… She hated him for something that couldn't be helped. Perhaps Jamie couldn't blame her - after all, he was responsible for Catrìona's disappearance. Had Jamie not participated in the uprising, had he just gone off and never gotten involved, perhaps they wouldn't have been wanted by the Crown and Catrìona would still be here to be the mother of her children. It was clear that Brèagha loved her mother more anyway, and hated her father. She'd all but said she'd wished him dead and gone instead of her mother. He buried his face in his hands and began to cry. How could everything have gone so wrong? No matter how hard he tried, everything just went wrong.


BRÈAGHA POV

"Brèagha! Brèagha! Enough of this, just stop!" Archie snapped at her sister, following her into her bedchamber and slamming the door behind him. "How could ye do that te Da? Break his heart like tha' after everrathin' he's done fer us?"

"Ye mean everrathin' he's done fer you ! He's done nothin' fer me! He wasnae even here! How do ye expect me te love a man as my father that I dinnae even ken?" Brèagha demanded back from him.

"How? Because he's yer father, and tha's what ye do. Ye love yer parents unconditionally because they're yer parents," Archie spat back at her.

"Ha! Tha's foolish te say. Ye mean Magda MacNeil should love her birth parents despite them bein' dead fer twenty years? If they came back tomorrow, would ye expect her te love her parents unconditionally?" Brèagha demanded.

"If Mama came back tomorrow, would ye love her unconditionally?" Archie asked.

"Mama never did anythin' wrong! She never went te prison, she never fought in the damn war that cost her her freedom - no, he did that. He's the reason she had te leave, and he's the reason he and Uncle Cailean went te prison! Had he never gotten involved with that damn pretender, none of this would have ever happened! We'd still have both of our parents!"

"Need I remind ye that if it werenae fer the rebellion , then we might've never come here? That Mama came here after Culloden wi' both of us - you still inside of her womb - te escape the English? Huh? Before the uprisin', we were all livin' happily at Lallybroch, with Da as the Laird and we had no need te come here te Barra!" Archie told her, and Brèagha laughed.

"Ye mean when ye were still shittin' yer breeks?" she said to him. "Ye talk like ye remember the days before the war, but ye dinnae remember anythin'! Yer earliest memories are here !"

"Aye, and ye were conceived at the verra end of the rebellion. Ye might not even be here if it werenae fer it."

"So what? I wouldnae even ken!" Brèagha spat back at him, and Archie closed his eyes and let out a firm huff, pinching the bridge of his nose the way his grandfather once had.

"Look. It doesnae matter what ye think. It doesnae matter whether or not ye consider Da yer father or no', he is yer father, and yer te do as he says, as a proper lady should," Archie told her, and she scoffed again. "We're goin' te Lallybroch."

"No, yer goin' te Lallybroch and I'll be stayin' right here," she told him firmly.

"No, we are goin' te Lallybroch. Ye are Da's daughter whether ye like it or not-"

"Well, I dinnae like it!" Brèagha hissed at him, and Archie narrowed his eyes at her and continued as if she hadn't interrupted him.

"Ye are Da's daughter whether ye like it or not and ye will go wherever Da tells ye te go," he finished. "We'll be leavin' in a fortnight. Pack whatever ye'd like te bring in the meantime because yer comin' along." She scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest.

"So I dinnae get a choice in where I go?" she demanded from him.

"No, because yer a lass and yer te do as yer told," Archie told her firmly. Mama would smack ye silly if she heard ye say such a thing , Brèagha thought to herself as she narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Now, when yer done throwin' a fit like a wee brat, ye ought te go and apologise te Da. After all he's been through, he doesnae deserve this. He's loved ye all these years and this is how ye treat him? Christ, Brèagha, yer breakin' his heart!"

"Funny how ye dinnae care an ounce fer how I feel aboot this," Brèagha told him.

"No, I dinnae, because yer bein' nothin' more than a spoiled wee bitch," Archie told her, and she slapped him across the face, taking him off guard and shocking him, then she grabbed him by his cravat and drew his face nearer to hers. While Archie shared many of the mannerisms of both his grandfather and father, Brèagha shared many mannerisms with her mother, including her fiery temper.

"Call me that again, brother , and ye'll not like what I do next te ye," she said to him through gritted teeth, and then she shoved him away, turning her back to him. "Now get out!" Rubbing the warm red mark on his face, Archie let out a quiet huff and then stalked out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Brèagha began to tear up. Of course she loved her father - Archie was right about one thing, he was her father and for that alone, she loved him - but he had left her behind, and for that, she was angry with him. All she wanted growing up was to be free to crawl onto her father's lap and be loved and spoiled by him, the way she spent her childhood watching Caoimhe and Uncle Cailean act. But with her father in prison, she couldn't have that. Sure, Uncle Cailean took her on his knee occasionally, but it just wasn't the same; He wasn't her father. God, perhaps Archie was right about her being a bitch… The first time she had seen her father in years and she yelled at him and basically wished him dead. It was that damn Fraser temper, as Uncle Cailean always said, but it was no excuse. Still, she felt that she shouldn't apologise to him until he apologised to her.


21 March, 1764

The Highlands, Scotland

JAMIE POV

Jamie and his children had been on their way to Lallybroch for a couple of days now, having left Barra behind a few days before and having made it to the mainland. They were now in a wagon with their things in the back while Jamie drove the wagon. Brèagha sat in the wagon and Archie followed on horseback. No words had been exchanged between Brèagha and Jamie since their reunion back at Cìosamul Castle, and she sulked silently whenever they were in close proximity. All Jamie wanted to do was take his bonny wee lass into his arms, kiss her bonny red curls and tell her that everything was going to be all right, that he was there and he was going to keep her safe as a father should, but she made it very clear that she didn't want that from him. When they took a brief break to water the horses, Brèagha went off to stand on the moors, overlooking the glen down below with her arms crossed across her chest. Leaving Archie to water the horses, Jamie approached his daughter quietly, keeping a good and safe distance. Was it right to talk to her? Would he be making a mistake if he tried? Would he make things worse between them? He let out a soft sigh; He couldn't have been her father for enough time already. Now that he had her again, he was going to at least try, whether she wanted him to or not.

"Brèagha," he said suddenly, and she moved her head a little, having heard him, but she still didn't respond to him. "Brèagha, lass… I'm sorry I wasnae here… I wanted te be, truly. I thought of ye and yer brother everra day that I wasnae with ye. I ken that doesnae make me a father… but I've never stopped lovin' ye, mo nighean loidsear. I… I want te try te be yer father again, if ye'll let me. I'll do it yer way, whatever ye choose, however ye'll have me. But please, Brèagha… Yer my daughter, and I cannae live wi' ye hatin' me."

"I dinnae hate ye," Brèagha replied calmly, still not turning to face him. "I was angry ye left. I ken ye had te, but then ye never wrote, and we never heard from ye or aboot ye." She paused for a moment. "We didnae ken if ye were dead or alive… I had te grow up watchin' Caoimhe get te have her father, get te do all of the things a daughter ought te with her father, all while I was just there. Ye dinnae ken how hard that was te watch."

"I cannae imagine how difficult it has been fer ye, a leannan ," Jamie told her quietly. "But I'm here now, and if I can help it, I will never leave ye or yer brother behind again." Suddenly, she turned to face him, and it broke Jamie's heart to see his sweet girl's blue eyes red and puffy, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Do ye promise? Ye'll never leave again?" she demanded from him.

"Aye, lass… Aye, I promise," Jamie told her, and then she suddenly bolted towards him and threw her arms around him, crying into his shoulder as Jamie embraced his daughter and gently rubbed her back. "Shh, mo nighean … Dinnae weep, a leannan , all is well…" She pulled back from the embrace and wiped her eyes on her sleeves.

"I… I'm sorry fer what I said," she said to him.

"Ye've nothin' te be sorry for, my darlin'," Jamie told her, wiping her cheeks dry. "Believe me, I deserved everra word. Ye and I both have an uncontrollable Fraser temper, and mixed wi' yer mother's Fowlis temper, we're a couple of hotheads, we are." Brèagha smiled and chuckled lightly.

"Will… Will ye ever tell us what really happened te Mama?" she asked him, and Jamie sighed.

"Aye… In time. I… dinnae ken if either of ye are ready fer the truth as of yet," Jamie replied, turning to glance at Archie to see that he was saddling the horses again. "Come, lass… Let's go home, shall we?" Brèagha nodded, then hugged her father one more time.

"I love ye, Daddy," she said quietly, and Jamie couldn't help but smile.

"I love ye, too, my sweet lass," he said, kissing the top of her head, and then he wrapped one arm around her shoulders as he led her back to the wagon.


23 March, 1764

Lallybroch, the Highlands, Scotland

The butterflies were back. As the wagon approached Lallybroch, Jamie couldn't help but feel nervous. Would his nieces and nephews remember him? Were Jenny and Ian well? Did they still own Lallybroch? Of course they owned Lallybroch still, what a silly fear to have. Young Jamie will have taken over as Laird by this point. Did he have a family? Would Lallybroch even be recognisable anymore? Christ, Jamie had so many questions, but he needed to put them to rest. He was bringing his children to live at his childhood home, to meet their aunt, uncle and other cousins that they hadn't even met, let alone heard much about - and their adopted brother as well. Fergus was basically a son to Jamie, in addition to Archie and now Willie as well. Jamie hadn't told Brèagha about Willie yet, and likely wouldn't, given how angrily she'd reacted to him returning after so many years.

"What's Aunt Jenny like?" Brèagha asked from beside him on the wagon, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh?" Jamie asked, tuning back in. "Oh, aye, ye remind me a lot of yer Aunt Jenny, actually." He chuckled warmly. "She's a bold lass, and not scairt of anythin'. She's a brute force, she is, but she adored ye when she met ye when ye were a bairn."

"I hardly remember Aunt Jenny," Archie chimed in. "Uncle Ian has a wooden leg, aye?"

"Aye, he does, but dinnae bring attention te it," Jamie told his son. "Do ye remember Fergus as well?"

"Fergus?" Archie asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm… Vaguely, I think. He came te Barra once, didnae he?"

"Aye, he did, when ye both were verra small," Jamie said to his children. "Since ye last met, he's lost a hand, and I'll no' be surprised if he's sensitive aboot it."

"Oh, no! What happened?" Brèagha asked with some alarm.

"He was bein' chased by English redcoats havin' foolishly taunted them. Dinnae ever taunt the scarlet bastards, either of ye, though after gettin' te ken Caoimhe, I'm more concerned tha' she would taunt them," Jamie told them.

"Oh, she did," Brèagha chimed in. "After Grandsire died, Captain Reynolds took over as Laird because Uncle Cailean wasnae yet pardoned, so Caoimhe and Uncle Cailean pranked him until he went mad." At this, Archie began to laugh.

"What I'd have given te have seen that…" he said as they approached the gate of Lallybroch, and Jamie stopped the wagon, swallowing his nerves. With spring around the corner, his mother's rose bushes that grew along the front gate were beginning to bud and bloom, the leaves of the ivy vines that climbed up the wall starting to conceal the stone bearing the date '1702' on the front. Jamie would have to have that trimmed- No. He'd have to remind Young Jamie to have that trimmed. Inside of the gate, Jamie could hear voices and the sound of children laughing - a sound not uncommon to the yard of Lallybroch.

"Archie! Dinnae chase those chickens! Ye'll no' like it when they come after ye in revenge!"

"Oh, let them have their fun. They're just lads!"

"Mammy! Chicky mean!" Sweet melodic laughter, followed by the cries of a young lad.

"Oh, come here, my lamb… Yer all right, but ye see now why Mama didnae want ye chasin' those chickens?"

"This… This is it," Jamie said to his children. "This is where I was a lad… Where I was born and grew up, where I wanted ye both te be born… Had things gone differently, I would be the Laird of this estate, and this would be our home, but…" He shook his head - no use in saying 'what ifs'. "Come, I'd like ye both ye meet yer Auntie." Giving the reins a crack, he urged the horse forward, turning into the yard and coming to a stop as young children paused with their wooden swords, looking up at the wagon.

"Henry! Georgie! Give the visitors some room, will ye?" called the voice of a young woman, and Jamie looked up to see a brown-haired young woman with her hand resting on her growing belly, suddenly reminded of Jenny when he and Catrìona had first come to Lallybroch. "Hello!" said the woman kindly, descending the stairs as Archie dismounted from his horse to greet the woman.

" Feasgar math , Mistress," Archie said to her, then took note of her perplexed expression. "Ah- good afternoon. I'm Archie Fraser, nephew te Jenny and Ian Murray." The young woman let out a small gasp, and then she smiled.

"Are ye so?" she asked him. "How wonderful te meet ye! My good mother has spoken highly of ye and yer father! Oh, my name is Agnes, I'm yer cousin, Jamie's wife."

"A pleasure te meet ye, cousin," Archie said, then turning to look at Jamie as Brèagha descended from the carriage.

"Hello, I'm Brèagha, Archie's sister," she said kindly to Agnes.

"Henry, go and fetch yer grannie," Agnes said to her son, the dark-haired lad of the two. "Ye must forgive the lads, they're a wee bit meek, they are. Henry is my firstborn, he'll be four in a month, and the other, wee Georgie, is my sister's son. She's just had a bairn herself and she's poorly, so Jamie and I agreed te have him fer a few weeks while she recovers."

"They're both verra bonny lads," said Archie as young Henry returned from inside, grasping Jenny's hand firmly in his.

"Ye say we have visitors, a chridhe ?" said Jenny to the wee lad, and then she looked up and froze when her eyes fell on her brother. Jenny looked quite different from the last time he had seen her. Her hair had grown a salt-and-peppery shade of dark brown with grey interspersed, and her once young face was tainted with the wrinkles of age. One of her hands clasped at the shawl around her shoulders while the other covered her mouth. "Jamie?"

"Jenny," Jamie muttered quietly, finally descending from the carriage as Jenny approached him. "Ye… Ye look auld."

"Oh, ist !" she spat at him, lightly smacking his arm, and then she threw her arms around her brother and embraced him tightly. "I was startin' te think ye'd never be free, that I'd never see ye again…"

"Aye, well, here I am," Jamie said with a soft chuckle as he embraced his sister, and then he pulled back. "And I've brought yer wee niece and nephew as well, though they're no' so wee anymore."

"Huh?" asked Jenny, turning to where Jamie gestured, and her eyes widened even further when she saw the now fully grown Archie and Brèagha, each of them with their full head of bright red curls. "Christ… Ye were both just bairns when I saw ye last…"

"Hello, Aunt Jenny," Archie said with a kindly smile, moving forward to embrace his aunt.

"And yer so tall! Ye were but two feet tall when I saw ye last and now, yer nearly as tall as yer da!" Jenny exclaimed as she embraced her nephew. "And Brèagha, oh, a chridhe , ye've grown so bonny… Last I saw ye, ye were but a wee thing scarcely two months auld, and yer we tall, too! It's just aa well, yer Ma was verra talk fer a woman!"

"It's nice te meet ye again, Auntie," Brèagha said to her aunt as she embraced her next.

"I cannae believe it. There once was a time I never thought I'd see a bairn of Jamie's and here, I have two!" Jenny exclaimed gladly, and then she pulled away to look back at Jamie, her smile suddenly fading. "Oh… but we dinnae have the room fer ye all… Are ye here te stay?" At this, Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"Ye dinnae have the room?" Jamie asked her.

"Oh, come inside, out of the chill. And you especially, Agnes. The cold isnae good fer the bairn," Jenny scolded her daughter-in-law, ushering her inside. "Come along, wee laddies, in ye get!" She ushered the two lads in, and then Jamie nodded to his own children before urging them inside as well. "Ye must be hungry. Mary, would ye mind heatin' a wee bit of the stew?"

"Yes, Mistress," came the voice of Mary MacNabb, a voice Jamie wasn't all too thrilled to hear. His last meeting with Mary MacNabb had involved bedding her, and that was not something he wanted his children to know about.

"Three servin's. Thank ye verra much, Mary!" Jenny called to her, and then she turned to Brèagha. "Oh, I've got some of yer Ma's auld claithes te wear. She's got a fine woolen coat, ye must be so cold in that one. Janet! Come here a moment, would ye?" A young lass around Brèagha's age, perhaps a bit younger, suddenly appeared, her face resembling Jenny's quite a bit and her dark hair plaited in one braid down her back. "This is yer cousin, Brèagha. Would ye mind takin' her te the guest room and showin' her the trunk of yer auntie's auld things?"

"Yes, Mama," said Janet, and Brèagha left to follow her up the stairs.

"Ian'll be in the study," said Jenny, ushering the two Fraser men down the hall and into the study in question. "Ian! Look who's returned!" Ian Murray, his hair now full white, glanced up over his spectacles at his visitors and his eyes widened once he recognised who they were.

"Jamie!" Ian exclaimed, and then he stood as Jamie approached his good brother and embraced him.

"Ian! Yer lookin' well," Jamie said to him. "Yer lookin' a bit like an auld man as well." Ian chuckled warmly at this.

"And somehow, ye dinnae look a day over twenty-five. What'll ye be now, three and forrty?" Ian asked him.

"Aye, this comin' May," Jamie replied, and then he gestured to his son. "Here's a face ye've no' seen in some time."

"Hello, Uncle Ian," Archie said to his uncle, and Ian softly gasped as he took in Archie's appearance.

"My God, is that you under all that height, Archie?" Ian asked him, and Archie chuckled as Ian embraced his nephew.

"Aye, Uncle, it's me," Archie replied.

"Jamie's lass, Brèagha, is here as well, and I've sent her up te have a look at her mother's auld trunk," Jenny chimed in. "Wait till ye see her!"

"Aye, she was verra small when I saw her last, as were ye, Archie," Ian replied. "Yer the spit of yer mother, ye are, and yer grandsire as well. I did meet the Laird of Cìosamul briefly when we had come te Barra. I was sorry te hear he had died. He was a fine man."

"Aye, he was," Archie said in agreement.

"Yer uncle is Laird now?" Ian asked him.

"Who, Cailean? That oafish fool?" Jenny demanded, and Jamie laughed.

"Aye, the verra same," Jamie replied with amusement. "Where is Fergus?"

"He and Wee Jamie have gone te Edinburgh te sort out the taxes. We were charged more than we should ha' been. They should return within the week. Fergus wished te accompany him, as the roads have been dangerous since the English have pulled out," Ian told him.

"Ah," Jamie replied.

"Are ye here te stay, then?" Ian asked him.

"Aye, we've come home," Jamie told him. "Now, what's this I hear aboot ye not havin' room fer us?"

"Ah, aye," said Ian, limping his way back to the desk and having a seat. "As our children have grown and our family along wi' them, they have gone te claim many of the rooms. We have but one spare guest room we save fer guests, but alas, it is only the one. My daughters share a room, as do my sons, and Wee Jamie and Agnes share yer auld chambers while Jenny and I share another. The bairns have the nursery, and Fergus and Mrs. MacNabb each have their own room as well. Wee Rabbie has cleared out, and Maggie has gone te live wi' her new husband, but I am sorry te say we have run out of room."

"I… I'm sure we can find a cottage te stay in fer the time," Archie said once he saw the disappointed look on Jamie's face.

"I had once hoped te raise my family here, and when that didnae happen, I had hoped fer them te reside here," Jamie said a bit sadly.

"Oh, but there is Balriggan," Jenny chimed in suddenly.

"Oh, aye," Ian replied. "Auld Mrs. MacBrady had died this past winter, and her lad, Edward, has inherited the estate and was lookin' te sell it."

"But we dinnae have enough coin te purchase an estate, Ian. I had counted on livin' in Lallybroch," Jamie told him.

"Ah, then it is a good thing we did a wee bit of savin'," said Ian, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a burlap sack full of coins. Jamie's eyes widened at the bag, but then he shook his head.

"No. I'll not take coin from ye and yer family," Jamie told him.

"It isnae coin from us, brother, it is coin from you ," Jenny said as she stood behind Ian, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"Aye, though we were grateful ye sent us coin from yer pay, we set it aside and saved it fer when, if it were so, ye were freed," Ian told him, and Jamie's eyes widened.

"That coin was supposed te be fer ye te pay fer the upkeep of Lallybroch!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Aye, and as we said, we were grateful fer it, but we didnae need it," Jenny told him.

"Aye, wi' so many lads, we were able te save extra funds, and they went off and did jobs fer coin. Wee Jamie even went te Edinburgh fer a time and did an apprenticeship," Ian explained.

"It was where he met Agnes. When he returned wi' a bride, we were in fer quite the surprise," Jenny chimed in.

"But the coin ye sent us we set aside fer ye, Jamie, so this money is yers," Ian finished, gesturing to the bag.

"I'll not accept it," Jamie said stubbornly and with finality.

"Da," Archie said to his father. "They dinnae have the room fer us, and they were kind enough te set aside that coin fer ye te start yer life over. Now's yer chance te do just that, so take yer money and purchase the estate otherwise we'll have te go back te the home we already have in Barra."

"Listen te yer lad. He's grown much wiser than ye were at that age," Jenny told her brother, and Jamie let out a huff.

"I dinnae like te take charity," he said rather stubbornly.

"It isnae charity, brother, it's yer own damn coin! So take it, we'll never touch it!" Jenny snapped at him, grasping the bag and tossing it at Jamie, who caught it reluctantly.

"I'll have a look at the estate, but nothin' more," Jamie replied, stalking out of the room as if he'd been offended. The estate of Balriggan actually was a beautiful estate with an herb garden and rose bushes growing along the stone walls. Brèagha loved the garden and thought it the perfect place for her to set up an easel and paint, while Archie loved the main parlour and made plans for a study, a library, and each of the bedrooms of the multi-story house. Though reluctantly, Jamie purchased the estate from Edward MacBrady for fifteen pounds, and with the help of Jenny and Ian, got to work making the old dusty estate into the new Fraser home.


September 1764

ARCHIE POV

After a short time of working in the fields with his cousin, Young Ian, who was absolutely fascinated by Archie and Da, Archie made his way back to the estate. Mrs. MacNabb was there cooking supper for the Frasers and she greeted Archie and Young Ian kindly. "Will Young Ian be joinin' ye fer supper today?" Mrs. MacNabb asked them.

"Oh, my Mam willnae allow it," Young Ian replied a bit meekly. He was eleven, soon to be twelve, and was the absolute spit of his father down to his dirty blonde hair.

"I'll make yer excuse. Join us fer supper, cousin," Archie told Young Ian. "But wash up first, Da would never want te break ye of that habit or yer Ma will have his head."

"Thank ye, cousin! I will!" Young Ian exclaimed, rushing upstairs to tidy himself up a bit, and Archie chuckled softly.

"An eager young lad," Mrs. MacNabb said to him.

"Aye, Auntie always says he wants te be like my father," Archie chimed in. "Out of all our cousins, he seems te be the one who likes us the most… Where's my sister? Is she out in the garden?"

"Oh, aye, and she's got a couple of wee lassies wi' her," said Mrs. MacNabb as she stirred a pot of lamb stew, and Archie raised an eyebrow.

"Young lassies?" Archie replied, and then he went out into the garden to find Brèagha hidden behind a canvas, the two young lassies in question seated on a crate with their backs to him. One of them was fair-haired and maybe around Ian's age, while the other was a young lass with bright red hair.

"Are ye almost finished, Mistress Brèagha?" asked the youngest lass, and Archie heard Brèagha chuckle warmly.

"Almost, Miss Joanie, I've just got te finish yer bonny wee nose," Brèagha replied, and Archie cleared his throat, the two young girls immediately turning to look at Archie and Brèagha peering out from behind the canvas. "Oh, Archie! Ye gave us a fright!" said Brèagha, returning to her painting.

"What's goin' on, if ye dinnae mind me askin'?" Archie asked his sister as she resumed her painting.

"Just paintin' these two wee lassies," Brèagha replied nonchalantly. "Archie, this is Miss Joanie and Miss Marsali MacKimmie. Girls, this is my brother, Archie Fraser."

"It's a pleasure te meet ye, Mr. Fraser," said young Marsali as Archie went around to view the nearly completed painting.

"And ye as well, Miss Marsali," Archie replied. "She's verra good, isnae she?"

"We've no' seen the portrait yet, Mr. Fraser," said young Joanie, the red-haired lass.

"Then we'll have te tell Brèagha te hurry it up so ye can before nightfall," Archie teased, and Brèagha smiled and shook her head.

"Ye cannae rush perfection, Archie," she said to him. "I still have te finish the background, but I can do that any time. I suppose ye must be getting' back te yer Ma before she worries."

"I can take ye lassies back. Where do ye live?" Archie asked the two lasses.

"Just up the road some, in a stone cottage," Marsali told him. "Did ye ever ken Simon MacKimmie?"

"No, I cannae say I have. We've only just come te this estate this past spring," Archie told her.

"Oh," said Marsali, scrunching up her nose. "Well, tha's where we live. I can lead ye there."

"Verra well," said Archie kindly as Marsali and Joanie stood up. "Brèagha, tell Da I'll return shortly." Leading the two girls inside, Archie was handed a basket of bread and cheese by Mrs. MacNabb before heading out.

"Fer Mrs. MacKimmie, the puir woman," said Mrs. MacNabb quietly. "That Simon MacKimmie was a foul man, he was. There were no tears shed when the redcoats hauled him off te prison."

"I see," Archie replied, equally quietly. "Thank ye, I'll be sure te give her this. Come on, lassies, on we go!" The two girls followed Archie out of the house, then Marsali took the lead as she led her sister and Archie down the road.

"My Ma will be verra grateful ye've walked us home," Marsali said to Archie. "She worries aboot us, ever since Father was taken away."

"I can imagine," Archie replied. "How auld are ye, if ye dinnae mind me askin', Miss Marsali?"

"Thirteen, sir," said Marsali. "I just turned so, in July."

"Is tha' so?" Archie asked her. "And what aboot you, Miss Joanie?"

"She'll be eleven in a week," Marsali replied.

"What aboot you? How auld are ye, Mr. Fraser?" Joanie asked, and Archie chuckled.

"I'll be one and twenty this comin' December," Archie told them.

"Wow, yer so auld!" Joanie exclaimed.

"Joan!" Marsali exclaimed, and Archie couldn't help but laugh as Joanie's cheeks turned bright red.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Fraser. That isnae so auld, really," she replied meekly.

"Tha's quite all right, Miss Joanie," Archie told her kindly.

"That'll be our home there," said Marsali, pointing to a cottage on the hill with a bit of smoke coming out of the chimney. "The lum is reekin', Ma must be home."

"Excellent, she'll be glad te have ye both home," Archie replied, leading the girls to the cottage. Marsali and Joan ran for the door and went inside, leaving it wide open as they greeted their mother while Archie stood outside.

"Marsali, Joan! Ye'll let critters in! Wipe yer feet on the rug!" came the voice of Mrs. MacKimmie, and she suddenly appeared in the doorway, a bit surprised by Archie's appearance in the yard. Her eyes widened as she took him in underneath the fading light of dusk. "Jamie? Is it you?"

"Er, no, I'm no' Mr. Murray," Archie replied, thinking she meant his cousin rather than Da. "I am Archie Fraser, ma'am. And I have a basket fer ye, sent by our Mrs. MacNabb." He smiled and approached to hand her the basket, but she didn't take it. Instead, she continued to stand in the doorway staring at him, her whisky-coloured eyes wide with shock and nostalgia.

"Ye… ye look like yer Da," said Mrs. MacKimmie. "We kent each other, when we were young, yer Da and I… Is… is yer Da Jamie Fraser?"

"Oh, aye, he is," Archie replied with a smile. "Ye kent my Da, ye said? Well, we've just returned te Broch Tuarach from Barra. I'm certain he'd love te see ye again sometime."

"Oh, I… I dinnae think so," Mrs. MacKimmie replied meekly, accepting the basket from Archie. "Thank Mrs. MacNabb fer the basket, I'll return it tomorrow."

"No rush, Mrs. MacKimmie. Good night te ye and yer daughters. They're fine lassies, they are," Archie replied, bowing subtly to her before turning to walk away. Archie didn't hear the door close behind him. At supper, Archie dined on lamb stew with Brèagha, Da and Young Ian when Archie cleared his throat. "So Da, I met a Mrs. MacKimmie today. She said ye kent her when ye were both young," Archie said suddenly.

"Oh?" Da asked, setting down his spoon. "I cannae say I ken a Mrs. MacKimmie. Perhaps she had a different name when we kent each other."

"Aye, perhaps," Archie replied, eating a spoonful of stew.

"She's got verra bonny lasses," Brèagha chimed in. "I was paintin' them this mornin' and afternoon."

"Aye, Joanie's a bonny wee lass. Marsali can be a wee bit mean," said Young Ian. "But I cannae blame her, I suppose. I didnae ken him, but Mr. MacKimmie was said te be a right auld awful coot."

"Dinnae speak ill of the dead, lad, even if they do deserve it," Da scolded Young Ian lightly, and his ears turned pink.

"Sorry, Uncle Jamie," said Young Ian apologetically.

"Perhaps I should pay Mrs. MacKimmie a visit. No harm in gettin' te ken our neighbours, aye?" Da said, taking another bite of his stew.


Autumn - Winter, 1764

JAMIE POV

In the following months, Young Miss Marsali and Miss Joanie came by several times for Brèagha to paint them, or to help the Frasers or even the Murrays out in their homes for extra coin. Jamie had come across one lass or the other several times in his home, and he found both of them to be very sweet. He had not, however, run into Mrs. MacKimmie, despite paying several visits to her one-room home and finding it void of the woman. Had Archie hallucinated her when he saw her? It was quite strange, really.

Throughout early autumn, Marsali came to help Brèagha or Mrs. MacNabb, often both, with the cooking, and seemed to grow quite attached to Brèagha. Often, Jamie found the two girls giggling about something or another, likely gossiping about lads in the area. "Ye should ask te dance wi' young wee Thomas at the Hogmanay celebration," Jamie overheard Brèagha say to Marsali one day while they were baking bread.

"But tha's so far away! I'd like te see him sooner," Marsali replied. "Honestly, though, can I tell ye a secret? Ye must promise ye willnae tell anyone !"

"Who am I goin' te tell?" Brèagha asked her, and Marsali giggled.

"All right, all right! I think Fergus is awfully handsome, too," Marsali told her.

"Fergus? Is he no' twice yer age, hen?" Brèagha asked the young lass, and Marsali giggled.

"A bit, but it jus' means he's more of a man than wee Thomas . The lad's scairt of chickens, fer cryin' out loud, and he lives on a farm!" Marsali exclaimed, and Brèagha laughed. Suddenly, wee Joanie bounded into the parlour where Jamie was seated double checking the Lallybroch books with a rag to dust the shelves.

"Good mornin', Mr. Fraser!" said wee Joanie happily.

"Good mornin' te ye, Miss Joanie," Jamie replied kindly to her. "Thank ye fer yer fine job at dustin', lass. I've never seen this house so clean!" Joanie giggled childishly and her little cheeks turned pink.

"I'm glad te help, Mr. Fraser! Everra bit of coin helps my Ma," Joanie replied.

"And how is yer Ma, Joanie? Is everrathin' well at home?" Jamie asked the lass.

"Oh, I dinnae ken. Ma always seems te stress aboot money, but she doesnae let on if she can help it. She doesnae tell Marsali or me anythin'!" Joanie told him.

"I'm verra sorry te hear aboot tha'. Perhaps yer Ma can come by sometime? As Broch Tuarach's former Laird, I cannae stand te hear of sufferin', and I can assure ye the current Laird cannae, either," Jamie told her.

"Oh, all right. I'll tell her ye want te see her, Mr. Fraser!" said Joanie, and then she skipped out of the parlour to find something else to dust.

The weeks continued to pass, and there was still no word from Mrs. MacKimmie, despite her daughters being over at the Fraser house nearly every day. If Jamie were the father of two young lassies, he'd want to be damn sure the people his daughters were with every day were good people, so Mrs. MacKimmie's behaviour was strange to him. It especially concerned him when, on the night of a major snowstorm, Jamie insisted the lasses stay at Balriggan for the night and return at daylight, and there was still no word from Mrs. MacKimmie. Perhaps she would be at the Hogmanay celebration?

The girls were, and young wee Joanie was dancing happily with just about everyone while Marsali went around keeping an eye on her, occasionally dancing with one of Joanie's partners along with her. "Mr. Fraser! Mr. Fraser!" exclaimed little Joanie as she ran to Jamie with Marsali in tow. "Do ye like figs?" She shoved a fig pastry into Jamie's hand.

"It's my own recipe! Ma helped me a wee bit, but I made them all on my own!" Marsali exclaimed excitedly.

"Aye, thank ye verra much," Jamie said as he accepted the pastry and took a bite. It was very tart, so Jamie had to fight off the urge to purse his lips as he swallowed the bite of the pastry. "Mmm, verra delicious!"

"Thanks, Mr. Fraser!" Marsali said excitedly.

"Would ye like te dance, Mr. Fraser?" Joanie asked him, grasping his hand. "It'll be our last Hogmanay here so I want te dance with everyone I can!"

"Yer last Hogmanay here?" Jamie asked her, raising an eyebrow as Marsali grasped Jamie's other hand and the two of them pulled him onto the dance floor. Nearby, Brèagha was already dancing with one of the MacBrady lads - the grandson of the brother-in-law of the former Mrs. MacBrady of Balriggan - and Archie was dancing with the daughter of Mr. Bell, seemingly quite taken with the lass. Seeing the happy and joyous expressions on the faces of his children, Jamie gave into the two lassies and agreed to dance with them. "Er, I… hope ye dinnae mind, but I've no' tried dancin' in a long time."

"Then we'll teach ye!" said Marsali excitedly, leading the dance with the two of them. When the music ended after a few moments, everyone clapped for the fiddler, who took a bow, and for a moment, Jamie recalled Quarter Day back in 1743, when Jamie had brought Catrìona home to Lallybroch and he was still Laird…

"Yer a fine dancer! Suppose I should have remembered tha' from our weddin'!" she had said to him, collapsing into his arms after the dance had finished.

"Aye! Yer a wee bit clumsier, but ye have a good excuse," he'd told her, resting one hand on her expanding belly, where their child grew. Her hand covered his, and she glanced up and smiled at him.

"Willnae be long now," she told him, and Jamie returned her smile.

"Look, there's Ma!" Joanie exclaimed suddenly, pulling Jamie out of the memory. Jamie's attention was drawn briefly to Archie - the child that grew inside of Catrìona's stomach that Quarter Day, now fully grown and able to sire children of his own - before following where Joanie and Marsali had run off to, suddenly finding himself quite surprised by the whisky-coloured eyes he'd met.

Laoghaire…

She was still bonny - she was always bonny, even though in her youth, she had been quite the vexing vixen. She had the rage of an angry, hormonal teenager and the boldness to act on that rage, yet here she was now twenty years older, widowed and with two bairns aching for a father. She was plumper after bearing two children, but she was still bonny, and her fair hair was tucked neatly underneath a cap. She smiled kindly at him when she met his gaze, giving him a soft wave before turning her attention to her two eager daughters. Suddenly, Jamie realised that Marsali was the absolute spit of her mother, just as bonny with her fair hair, but it must have been her father's pale blue eyes that she had. Joan, on the other hand, had her mother's eyes, but must have had her father's features.

While admiring the little family, Jamie noticed Archie suddenly approach Laoghaire - now Mrs. MacKimmie - and bow subtly to her, which she returned with a curtsy. He couldn't see or hear what they were saying, but Laoghaire seemed to nod and accept his offered arm, shooing her daughters off to enjoy the celebration while Archie led her outside. Why was Archie of all people leading her away for a moment of privacy? Curiosity getting the better of him, Jamie followed them, lurking in the frame of the open door to listen to their conversation:

"Mrs. MacKimmie, I… had a word wi' Marsali, when we were dancin', and Joanie as well. They mentioned tha' this is yer last Hogmanay here in Broch Tuarach?" he heard Archie say to Laoghaire, who let out a soft sigh.

"Oh, aye," she replied in a slightly dejected tone, her once shrill voice having matured significantly in the last twenty years. "I… I'm afeard tha' we cannae make rent in time. We've been evicted."

"Tha's terrible," Archie replied. "What… What'll ye do?"

"Oh, I dinnae ken. I still have a brother livin' on auld Mackenzie lands, near the ruins of Castle Leoch… Did ye ever go te Castle Leoch? Pardon me, when were ye born, laddie? Yer Jamie and… and Catrìona Fraser's lad arenae ye?" Laoghaire asked Archie.

"Aye, Mistress, I am," Archie replied. "I was born in December of '43. I've just turned one and twenty. I dinnae ken if I've ever been te Castle Leoch. Mama never mentioned it, and Da may have a few times."

"Oh, it was such a grand place… Anywho, my brother lives aboot the lands still, so perhaps I can take the girls and stay there with him. Things have just been so hard fer us since Simon died in prison," Laoghaire told Archie a bit sadly.

"I imagine it's verra far. All the friends the girls have made here will be behind them," Archie replied.

"Aye, it'll be a bit sad, but what else can I do? I've but a week left in my home and I'll not have my girls be starvin' on the streets growin' up te be whoores just te put food in their bellies," Laoghaire replied a bit firmly.

"There is somethin' else," Archie said a bit quietly. "I'll marry ye." Jamie's eyes widened - did Archie just propose to Laoghaire? "Ye and the girls can come and live wi' us in Balriggan, there's plenty of room fer them, and they already ken the place well enough. My sister and father adore them both-"

"Oh, Archie, lad, tha's verra sweet of ye, but I'm nearly twice yer age! I'm auld enough te be yer mother, ye cannae marry me! Yer father certainly wouldnae allow it!" Laoghaire exclaimed, clearly taken aback judging by her tone.

"What does it matter? Ye and the lassies will have a roof over yer heads and food in yer bellies, warm beds te sleep in," Archie listed off. "Our difference in age doesnae matter."

"Aye, it does," Jamie found himself saying suddenly, startling the both of them as they looked up at Jamie in the doorframe.

"Da!" Archie exclaimed with surprise.

"Are ye mad, proposin' marriage te a widow wi' two bairns at yer age, Archie Fraser? Get back inside, ye eejit," Jamie ordered him.

"Da, I'm full grown now, I can make my own decisions," Archie said to his father firmly, and Jamie chuckled.

"When I was yer age, I was stealin' cattle te sell fer my bread, and I thought I was full grown then as well. A year later, you were born," Jamie told him. "Yer no' te give up yer freedom at such a young age…" Jamie then turned to address Laoghaire, who seemed very red in the face. "Laoghaire… I'll marry ye, if it means yer lassies dinnae starve or leave their home."

"How's it any different if you marry her versus me, Da?" Archie demanded.

"Yer young, laddie. Ye have yer whole life ahead of ye te find the lass ye love, start yer own family… I, on the other hand, no longer have that freedom at my age," Jamie replied, feeling a touch of sadness at knowing that Archie and Brèagha were all that remained of the freedom to love that he'd once had. "Dinnae fash, laddie. Mrs. MacKimmie and I are auld acquaintances. We'll do fine, we will. If ye'll have me, Mrs. MacKimmie. The girls will have a home te live in and will never go hungry, I can promise ye tha'."

"I…" Laoghaire replied meekly, evidently in shock from this exchange, and then she smiled. "I… Yes , Jamie, yes… I'll marry ye."

"Da," said Archie, but Jamie held up a hand to silence him.

"The decision is made, laddie, now go back inside and dance wi' that lassie ye've been with all night," Jamie replied, and for a moment, Archie hung back before finally going back inside, leaving Jamie and Laoghaire alone. For a moment, Laoghaire stood there quietly smiling like a schoolgirl, then she reached for Jamie's hand and took it.

"I'll be glad te be yer wife, Jamie. I've always admired ye, even loved ye," she said to him, but Jamie stiffened his hand and subtly pulled it away, not meeting her eyes.

"This arrangement is te give ye and yer daughters a home. I'll do what must be done as a husband… but I cannae love ye," Jamie told her, and he glanced up at the herb garden of Lallybroch, wondering if the figure with the red hair standing beside it was real or a figment of his imagination. "I cannae love anyone ever again… We'll be wed within the week." With that said, Jamie turned away to head towards the gate, eager to be alone in the home he had made for his family.


"Yer what ?" Brèagha demanded angrily from Jamie after he'd informed her of his impending marriage. "But what aboot Mama?"

"I'll always love yer mother, Bree, but if I dinnae wed Mrs. MacKimmie, she and her daughters will be homeless. Ye admire the girls, ye dinnae want that fer them, do ye?" Jamie asked her, but Brèagha scoffed.

"Why cannae they just live here? Why do ye have te marry her?" she demanded.

"I said I'd marry Mrs. MacKimmie, but Da said no," Archie chimed in.

"Tha's even worse!" Brèagha exclaimed. "Da, ye cannae marry her!"

"Brèagha, none of this means I dinnae love yer mother-" Jamie began to say, but she cut him off.

"If ye marry this woman, I'll be leavin'! I cannae stand by quietly while ye marry another woman! Not when I dinnae even ken what happened te Mama!" she shouted at him.

"I told ye, Bree, I put her on a ship te the colonies," Jamie replied as calmly as he could.

"Aunt Jenny says she died! She says Mama's ship sank and she died!" Brèagha shouted back at him.

"She what?" Archie exclaimed suddenly. "Da, why didnae ye say anythin'? Why would ye hide that from us?"

"Jesus Christ," Jamie muttered, now battling both of his children. "Ye were just bairns, both of ye."

"Well, we arenae anymore!" Brèagha snapped back. "We've been livin' here with ye fer nearly a year and ye still didnae tell us?"

"Da, what happened te Mama?" Archie demanded.

"I dinnae even ken fer sure what happened te her! I just told yer auntie tha' she died so she'd leave me be aboot it, but I dinnae ken!" Jamie shouted back at them both.

"So she could still be alive?" asked Archie with hope, and this made Brèagha even angrier.

"If there's a chance she's still alive, then how could ye marry another woman?" she demanded from her father.

"Christ, Brèagha, I dinnae ken how te even explain any of this te ye," Jamie replied.

"Well, then figure it out! But if ye go through wi' this marriage, then ye'll never hear from me again!" Brèagha shouted stubbornly at him.

"Tha's a bit harsh," Archie said to her, and she glared at her brother.

"Bree, please," Jamie began, but Brèagha just held up her hand and stormed out of the parlour, her bedroom door slamming behind her. "Archie… Am I wrong te go through wi' this?"

"I…" Archie replied, and then he let out a sigh. "I cannae fault ye fer wantin' te do good fer a widow and her family, but… I dinnae think I can watch ye do so, either. I'll take Brèagha back te Barra."

"Ye think I should actually let her go?" Jamie asked his son.

"I think if ye want te salvage yer relationship with her, ye have te," Archie replied. "I'll tell her te pack up, then I'll take her back tomorrow." With that said, Archie, too, left the parlour, leaving Jamie alone wondering if perhaps he was making a mistake.


30 December, 1764

JENNY POV

She still didn't understand why her niece and nephew weren't at their father's wedding, but they were too much like their mother anyway. If they disagreed with something their father was doing, they were quite vocal about it, something Jenny would never tolerate from her own children. Christ, Catrìona had made a weak man out of her brother, and he let his children walk all over him. He was the adult, and they had no say in the decisions he made in his life. Oh, forget about them, Jamie was finally moving on from that woman. Jenny did love her niece and her nephew, but if they stayed in Barra, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing for Jamie. He could start over completely and go back to being the man he used to be before Catrìona all but castrated him.

The ceremony was pleasant. Jamie and her new good-sister, Laoghaire, held hands at the altar, and when Jamie placed the ring on her finger, Jenny felt herself tearing up a little. She glanced away for a moment to wipe her eyes, and when she looked back up, she let out an audible, startled gasp. "Ma, are ye all right?" Young Jamie whispered quietly to his mother, who was staring wide-eyed at the altar.

There, standing between Jamie and Laoghaire clear as day, was Catrìona, dressed in all red with her red curly hair flowing down her back. What was she doing here ? Could they see her? How dare she ruin this moment for her brother? How was she here? Her icy gaze was fixed on their conjoined hands, and then she lifted her head, meeting Jenny's eyes with a piercing gaze that made her blood run cold. Jenny let out a soft cry and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Catrìona was gone, and everyone had turned to look at her.

"I… thought I saw a wee mouse," she said meekly. "C-Carry on…"


Winter 1764 - Spring 1765

JAMIE POV

Jamie poked the fire in the hearth of the bedroom he now shared with Laoghaire, his new wife, while Laoghaire sat meekly in bed watching him. She had changed out of her dress and into her shift and crawled under the covers before Jamie even made it into the room, and she clutched the quilt to her chest, staring at him like prey would a predator.

"It's fair cold outside," Jamie said to her. "This'll keep us warm through the night." He stood up and out of the corner of his eye saw Laoghaire flinch. He removed his coat, then sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots and stockings. Next were his breeks, and when he stood and turned to face Laoghaire, she couldn't meet his eye, so he let out a sigh. "We dinnae have te do anythin'," he told her, then crawling under the covers and turning so that his back was to her. "We can wait until yer ready. Goodnight… Laoghaire." Oddly enough, she said nothing, and Jamie fell into a restless sleep.

Months had passed, and still, Laoghaire was not ready. For someone who claimed to once love Jamie to the point of obsession, she sure seemed to despise him. She argued with him about letting Brèagha return to Barra, then argued even more about sending Archie away to work and send money back to them. Jamie was adamantly against sending his son away, having spent too much of his life without his children, and that led to a few books flying towards Jamie's head. She also shouted at him when he tried to parent Marsali and Joan, who had come to accept and love Jamie as their father, but Laoghaire seemed to dislike him even claiming that title. Finally, five months after his marriage to Laoghaire, he had had enough.

"Archie, I cannae do this any longer," Jamie said to his son. "She despises me, and she fears my touch. Our marriage remains unconsummated because she is terrified of me. I cannae live like this."

"Aye, she seems nothin' like the woman she was before ye wed her," Archie said in agreement.

"Not at all," Jamie replied, and he let out a sigh. "We dinnae belong here any longer… There's no place fer us. Laoghaire has made Balriggan her own and seems te shove us out. I dinnae even ken what she did with Bree's paintings."

"Shoved them in the attic, she did, wi' no care if she damaged them or not," said Archie bitterly. "But where would we go? Back te Barra?"

"It is an option, but I dinnae ken if I can stand bein' some place where I am despised, either by my wife or by my daughter," Jamie replied. "Perhaps we can go te Edinburgh. There are opportunities there we could use. I dinnae ken what, but anythin' is better than this ."

"Aye, I would agree," Archie replied. "What'll Aunt Jenny say?"

"Frankly, lad, I dinnae care what yer aunt has te say or think of this. I cannae live a miserable man," Jamie told him. "It's decided then. Laoghaire and the girls can have Balriggan. We'll go on elsewhere, te Edinburgh. Wi' what coin, I dinnae ken, but we'll manage, aye?"

"Aye, that we will," said Archie, giving his father a smile. It was yet another new chapter in Jamie's life, and yet another journey into the unknown. What would his future hold now? He would support Laoghaire and the girls, of course, but wherever his future took him, it was clear that Lallybroch and Broch Tuarach were not it. He wasn't even sure if the home he had known all of his life was even home anymore. It seemed like Jamie, along with his son, would have to find a way to make their own home together.

When Jamie proposed to Jenny that he was leaving, she was angry, of course, but Jamie didn't give into her. His life was now his to do with it what he pleased, and if that didn't please her, then that was just too bad. Taking Archie, and Fergus as well, Jamie set on the road to Edinburgh within a week of his forty-fourth birthday, starting his life over again for what felt like the hundredth time.