17 October, 1766

Wailing Widow Falls, the Highlands, Scotland

CATRÌONA POV

I stood back up and closed up the bladder with fresh water from the river, which drained from Loch na Gainmhich up above via the Wailing Widow Falls. They were named so because an old folk tale told of a man who had gone hunting for deer and fell to his death from the top of the falls. It was said that his widowed mother was so devastated that she threw herself over the top of the falls after him. It was hard to believe that such a beautiful place could be the site of such devastation; It was hidden away within the burn and looked almost like a stairway to heaven. I glanced up at the waterfall and smiled; I would certainly be no wailing widow.

"Catrìona!" I heard my husband call to me from somewhere above me. "Where've ye gone, lass?"

"Down here!" I called back, glancing at the falls for another moment before turning and making my way out of the burn. Jamie stood at the top, along with Archie, and both of them assisted me back up once I arrived at the top. I grimaced a little and gripped my abdomen, then felt Jamie's hands on my upper arms.

"Are ye all right?" he asked me.

"Aye, a bit sore," I replied.

"Perhaps ye shouldnae have swam out te the isle," Jamie replied, helping me up onto my horse.

"If I hadnae, we'd no' have the coins the bastards dropped, would we?" I asked him. "Or that ruby."

"Aye, the ruby," said Jamie, shaking his head a little. "I suppose tha' will be worth it. It'll make us good money te send te Laoghaire before we go after Young Ian."

"I saw the flag of the ship, but I didnae recognise it. Maybe Jared will?" I asked him, watching him climb onto his own horse.

"Aye, perhaps," Jamie replied. "Or yer brother might. We'll go te Barra, see if they saw the ship. I can write te Fergus, tell him te bring along Hayes, Duncan and Mr. Willoughby and meet us in Paris. He'll have gone te Lallybroch by now."

"It feels strange goin' back," I said as we started back down the road. "It'll be… so different. No Saoirse, no Grandsire. The children will all be grown. It was hard enough te accept Archie and Fergus bein' grown, but Brèagha will be a completely different story. She'll be so… different. Of course, it means somethin' te be a man compared te a lad, but te be a woman compared te a girl, it…" I let out a soft sigh. "She'll be nearly twenty. By that age, I was leadin' a siege on a heavily defended fort."

"Brèagha never had te do such a thing," Jamie told me.

"Aye, and I'm glad fer it, but I'm afraid I'll be lookin' at myself. I imagine tha' was my mother's greatest fear," I said, chuckling lightly, and then I let out a sigh. "As a lass, I wanted te be just like my mother. Then as I grew aulder, we… had our moments of disagreement. I didnae want te be like her. Suppose I became her anyway. I dinnae want Brèagha te become like me."

"I think ye'll find she already is," said Jamie, glancing back behind him at Archie, who was looking out at the sea. "Archie has, too. He's yer son, and Brèagha is yer daughter. It was a comfort te see ye in them."

"I could see ye in Maevis as well. She had yer eyes. Looked like me, mostly, but everra time I looked into her eyes, I saw ye," I told him, giving him a soft smile. "Ye were never far from me, so long as I had her." My smile faded, and I let out a soft sigh. "And then… I had te send her away, and ye were gone from me. I had… no part of ye, save fer yer ring. My life grew cold without Maevis."

"I imagine so, as mine did when I lost ye, and the children," Jamie replied, and he gave me a soft smile. "Yer nieces and nephews will be excited te see ye. Caoimhe's always looked up te ye."

"I dinnae ken if tha's a good thing or a bad thing," I said with a soft chuckle.


19 October, 1766

Castlebay, Isle of Barra, Scotland

"Christ, I need time before I'll get back on a ship," Jamie said the moment he was off of the ship that docked in Castlebay.

"I take it yer father's sea sickness hasnae changed?" I asked Archie, holding onto his arm as I found myself looking at Castlebay. The last time I had seen it, it had been 2154, with stone buildings with central heating and indoor plumbing. This time, there were some stone buildings - some, I realised, that still stood in the twenty-second century - but mostly wooden buildings, and it was partially a shock to see my home looking so different once again.

"No, it hasnae," Archie said with a chuckle. "My favourite is takin' him fer a sail and hittin' everra wave."

"Archie, that isnae nice," I said. "Though it is hilarious, I'll no' deny that."

"I heard tha'," Jamie said in front of us, and Archie and I couldn't help but laugh. "Archie, we should charter a boat te the castle."

"I'll find one fer us te sail," Archie replied, letting go of my arm and following his father down the street. I was about to follow them, but I paused when I caught a flash of red out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up and caught what looked like a woman with long curly red hair disappearing in between two buildings.

"Brèagha," I muttered, and as if automatically, I felt my feet moving towards where that woman had disappeared into the alley.


BRÈAGHA POV

"So what exactly are ye plannin' te achieve here, cousin?" Brèagha asked Caoimhe as she followed her between the buildings to a house - the home of Mr. McElwain and his family, specifically.

"I'm puttin' nettle powder in their claithes so they think twice aboot tellin' me I 'dinnae act like a lady' again," Caoimhe replied as she first knocked on the door to make sure no one was home, then opened it.

"So yer plannin' on makin' them think twice aboot tellin' ye that ye dinnae act like a lady by… not actin' like a lady," Brèagha asked her, and Caoimhe scoffed.

"Well, it doesnae sound as good when ye put it like that, but it's still not goin' te stop me," Caoimhe replied, pulling out a jar of nettle powder. "Keep an eye out fer them? Will ye?"

"I dinnae want te be involved in yer wee pranks, cousin," Brèagha told her.

"So dinnae be. Just stand watch," Caoimhe replied, disappearing inside of the house, and Brèagha let out a sigh. All she'd wanted to do was go to the apothecary for more herbs that she could ground into pigments for her paints. When Caoimhe asked if she could join her, she thought it would be a fun little outing for the two cousins to go on, but of course Caoimhe had a trick up her sleeve. She hoped her cousin wouldn't take long, she hated being involved in Caoimhe's devious plots. She leaned against the wall of the building beside the McElwain house and waited impatiently. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and her head jerked up hoping that the McElwains hadn't returned when she found herself face to face with an oddly familiar-looking brown-haired woman with silver round-rimmed glasses, who was staring at her open-mouthed. Narrowing her eyes a little to try and get a better look at this woman, the woman began to approach, an expression of shock on her face.

"Brèagha?" asked the woman, and Brèagha raised an eyebrow at her - that is, until the woman's face became clearer, and Brèagha's own face widened.

"Mama?" she said quietly, and the woman smiled - it was her mother! She had darker hair and definitely looked older, but it was her ! "Is… is that really you?"

"Aye, hen… It is," said Mama, and Brèagha let out a cry of joy and ran to her mother, throwing her arms around her and embracing her. "Blessed Bride, ye've gotten so big!" Mama exclaimed, pulling back a little to look at Brèagha and taking her face in her hands. "Gosh, yer so bonny. Look at ye!"

"I almost didnae recognise ye! What happened te yer hair? It's darker," Brèagha replied, and Mama chuckled.

"Aye, well… It's difficult te explain. It'll go back te bein' red again soon," Mama replied.

"Red? But ye've always had brown hair, no?" Brèagha asked her.

"Ah, I've forgotten ye only ever saw me wi' brown hair. As a matter of fact, it's naturally red, like yers," Mama replied, touching a strand of Brèagha's long curly hair. "Ye look so much like yer father…" Brèagha's face fell a little at the mention of her father.

"Aye," she said. "Is he here wi' ye?"

"He is, and so is yer brother," Mama told her, taking Brèagha's face in her hands. "God, I cannae believe this. Yer so grown, and I missed it! I'm so sorry, mo nighean . I hope ye ken I never wanted te leave ye and yer brother."

"It's all right, Mama… Ye had te. Da told us ye were pregnant," Brèagha replied. "Was it true? Did ye have it?"

"Aye, I did. A wee lassie named Maevis," Mama told her with a smile. "She looks a bit like ye. I've no' seen her in such a long time…"

"I beg yer pardon, but what is happenin' just now?" said a firm male voice in Gaelic, and both Brèagha and Mama turned to face Mr. McElwain and his family, who had appeared in the alley intending to go to their home, of which Caoimhe was still inside.

"Mr. McElwain! Er…" Brèagha exclaimed loudly, hoping to draw Caoimhe's attention. "Ye've just… got such a nice alley tha' we…" Brèagha froze when she saw Caoimhe appear in the doorway, her green eyes wide with shock when she saw the McElwains, and then Mr. McElwain's face turned purple with fury when he saw Caoimhe in his doorframe.

" You! " he shouted angrily.

"Gotta go!" Caoimhe shouted, bolting down the other end of the alley with Mr. McElwain hot on her tail.

"Get back here, ye wee bitch! I dinnae care if yer the Laird's daughter, ye'll pay fer stealin' from me!" Mr. McElwain shouted as he ran after Caoimhe, and Brèagha had a right mind to go after him as well, but instead opted to stay behind.

"She didnae steal anythin', Mr. McElwain!" Brèagha called after him, and then let out a sigh.

"What on earth has just happened?" Mama asked, and Brèagha couldn't help but chuckle.

"Caoimhe," Brèagha replied, and Mama's eyes went wide.

"Tha' was Caoimhe ?" she exclaimed, looking in the direction Caoimhe and Mr. McElwain had gone. "My God, she looks just like her… her mother…"

"Aye, she does," said Brèagha, detecting a subtle tone of sadness in Mama's voice. She must have already found out about Auntie Saoirse, probably from Archie.

"I beg yer pardon, but is tha' you, Mistress Fraser?" asked Mrs. McElwain, drawing the Frasers' attention back to the McElwains.

"Oh, yes, it is," said Mama. "Is tha' you, Fanny? Blessed Bride, ye look the same!" Mama then turned to Brèagha with a happy smile on her face. "I helped te deliver Mrs. McElwain's eldest aboot a year after ye were born, hen."

"Did ye now?" Brèagha asked her.

"It's so great te have ye back here, Mistress Fraser! We've missed yer face in these parts, we have," said Mrs. McElwain, and Mama was about to respond when suddenly, they heard Da's voice suddenly calling.

"Catrìona!" he called from somewhere on the main road.

"Oh, Christ, I didnae tell yer father I'd run off," Mama said. "Fanny, it was so great te see ye lookin' so well, but I must go. Brèagha, come! Daddy will be glad te see ye!"

"Wash yer claithes real well, and watch yer skin," Brèagha warned Mrs. McElwain, and then the two Fraser women went after Da's voice.


CATRÌONA POV

"Catrìona!" I heard Jamie call again, and I saw his back to me as Brèagha and I approached. Overjoyed at having reunited with my daughter, I felt a surge of happiness at seeing the man that helped me to create my beautiful children, so I picked up my skirts and ran to him.

"Jamie!" I called, and he turned just as I threw my arms around his neck, surprising him.

"Christ, Catrìona! Dinnae run off like tha' without tellin' me at least!" he exclaimed, pulling back from the embrace to kiss me. "Where did ye run off te?"

"I found someone we've both been lookin' forward te seein'," I told him, and I stepped aside to show him Brèagha behind me. Brèagha seemed to be standing a relatively far distance with an uncomfortable look on her face, rather than one of joy as I had expected, and then I remembered that Archie had mentioned a strain in their relationship. Jamie's face, on the other hand, lit up cautiously at the sight of his daughter.

"Brèagha," he said hopefully, letting go of me and taking an awkward step towards her before stopping.

"I've chartered a boat fer us-" Archie said as he approached us, freezing in the middle of his sentence when he realised Jamie and Brèagha were facing off.

"It… it's so good te see ye, lass," Jamie said to her, but she didn't react.

"Hello, Father," she said a bit sternly. "Does Mama ken aboot yer secret?"

"Aye, as a matter of fact, she does," Jamie told her, and I assumed that she had been referring to Laoghaire.

"And ye forgave him, Mama?" Brèagha asked me, a bit surprised by this.

"Of course I did, hen. It… it had been years, and ye ken he did it fer a good reason, dinnae ye?" I asked her.

"I didnae see it that way," she replied, narrowing her eyes at her father. "He married someone else, took her te his bed when he should have been faithful te ye."

"I actually never bedded her," Jamie replied in defence.

"Brèagha, he thought I was dead, and I verra well may have been. He had everra right te remarry," I said to her, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Oh, did he?" Brèagha asked, mirroring my own actions in a manner very similar to myself. "He didnae write te me after weddin' that woman."

"I did write te ye, many times, but ye never wrote me back. I stopped because… I thought ye didnae want te hear from me," Jamie told her a bit meekly.

"So long as ye were married te Mrs. MacKimmie, I didnae want te," Brèagha said stubbornly.

"Well, he isnae married te her anymore, Brèagha, so ye'd best get tha' bee out of yer bonnet before it stings yer wee arse," I told her a bit firmly, and she seemed a little bit taken aback by that statement, but then let out a huff.

"How long has Mama been back?" Brèagha asked Jamie next.

"Aboot three weeks, nearly," Jamie answered her, and her eyes widened.

"Three weeks? And ye didnae think te tell me my mother came back?" Brèagha demanded from him.

"That was my doin', Brèagha. I asked him not te write te ye. I wanted te surprise ye," I said to her, and she huffed again. "If yer tryin' te find a reason te demonise yer father fer what's happened these last fifteen years, ye'd best stop. Ye have no idea the sacrifices yer father has made fer ye, Brèagha. He loves ye verra much and he doesnae deserve this."

"He abandoned me fer years !" Brèagha spat back at me.

"Oh, did he? And what did I do then? Hide in yer cupboard fer fifteen years?" I asked her sarcastically, and she scoffed.

"Ye had te leave, ye were pregnant!" Brèagha replied.

"Aye, and yer father had te leave as well te protect ye and Archie!" I spat back at her. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Archie and Jamie step back so as not to get in the middle of a mother-daughter cat fight.

"He went te Lallybroch, he could have taken us with him!" she snapped back at me.

"Ye had more room and more te do here livin' at Cìosamul! I hear yer an artist, I imagine ye'd no' have the chance te hone such a skill on a farm, fer bloody sake!" I spat back.

"He could have written or something !"

"And given himself away? Get himself arrested? Did ye want that? Do ye have any idea how hard it must have been fer him te leave ye behind, Brèagha? Did ye never think aboot how painful it must have been te have te leave his children in someone else's hands so they could be safe? No, I'll bet ye didnae, because ye dinnae yet have bairns of yer own!"

"It doesnae sound like it was so hard fer you te leave us then!"

"Ye have no idea how difficult it was fer me te leave ye, damn it! Ye dinnae ken how I cried fer ye fer years, thought of ye and yer brother everra night, how it ripped my heart into a thousand pieces te have te leave ye behind!"

"If ye thought of us everra day, why did ye never write?"

"Because I thought ye were dead , damn it!" I shouted at her, realising suddenly what I'd said. In my time, four hundred years from now, Archie and Brèagha were dead, so of course I couldn't write to them. Brèagha's face changed to one of shock, then one of confusion as my words registered in her mind.

"What… What reason would ye have te think we were dead?" she asked me slowly, and I glanced back at Archie and Jamie for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"The clearances," I said, knowing I couldn't tell her about the time travel here in the main port. "I… I thought perhaps… ye'd all been evicted and… died en route. I heard of a ship from the isles where… disease ravaged the hold and killed nearly everraone…"

"The clearances didnae touch us. Grandsire saw te that," Brèagha told me a bit sadly, and then she looked up at Jamie. "Ye… ye told us… she was dead."

"No, I told tha' te yer aunt because… I thought it te true. The ship had sunk. What I didnae ken was tha' she had survived," Jamie told her, and she lowered her arms around her abdomen and looked down.

"Did ye… did ye think we were dead, too, Da?" she asked him quietly.

"No, but I kent that I couldnae write te ye or else ye could both be arrested, even as children, fer communin' wi' a wanted criminal," Jamie replied.

"Oh," Brèagha muttered.

"Not writin', marryin' someone else, none of that meant that I didnae love ye and yer mother, Bree," Jamie told her. "I love ye more than anythin'. Yer my wee girl - I'll always love ye." Brèagha was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded and approached the three of us, then embraced her father tightly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy… I just didnae want ye te forget aboot Mama. I thought ye remarryin' meant ye didnae love her anymore," she said into his shoulder as Jamie rubbed her back.

"Oh, a leannan , that couldnae be farther from the truth," he told her as he embraced his daughter. When they broke the embrace, he gently kissed her forehead, and then she looked at Archie next.

"And it's nice te see ye too, ye pain," she said to him, and Archie fake gasped.

"And I was aboot te say I missed ye somethin' terrible," he teased her, accepting a hug from his sister. "Now, come on, the boat willnae wait all day!"

"Yer no' captainin' it, are ye, lad?" Jamie asked, wrapping one arm around my shoulders as we followed Archie to the docks.

"Of course I am, who else would?" Archie asked, giving his father a mischievous grin.


When we arrived on the dock (with Jamie looking a little green), Archie immediately moored the boat to the pilings and hopped out to help Brèagha and I out. Jamie was already leaning over the side of the dock fighting off the urge to vomit, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Huh, I wonder where Ronald is," Archie said curiously, noticing that a familiar face was absent from the docks.

"Ronald's still around?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Aye. He's nearin' seventy now but as of two years ago, he was still here. Perhaps he retired," Archie said, approaching his father and patting him roughly on the back. "Ye all right, Da?"

"I'll do fine, lad," Jamie replied.

"I'm sure there's a bit of ginger in the stores. I can ask Mrs. Higgens fer some tea," I said.

"Oh, Mrs. Higgens died three years ago, Mama," Brèagha chimed in. "It's Mrs. Fitzwilliam now. I'll go and ask fer some te be made, I ken where she spends her days."

"Oh, tha'd be lovely, hen. Thank ye," I told her, giving my daughter a hug before she left. I didn't exactly want her to leave, considering I wasn't used to not holding her little hand so she wouldn't get lost in the castle, but she was grown now, and she knew her way.

"I suppose ye want te see Uncle Cailean. Usually, he's in the library, but I'd check the study first," Archie said suddenly. "It was a bit weird at first, seein' him in the Laird's Study. He's made it his own, but he still has Grandsire's portrait in there."

"It'll have been nearly ten years now," I said with a soft sigh, and Archie raised an eyebrow.

"Ye ken when he died? But were ye not… in yer own time?" he asked me.

"I still grew up on Barra - in the same house we lived in, believe it or no' - and I'd been te the cemetery many times. I always wondered why my father wanted to visit the grave of Eairdsidh Ruadh so much, and now I ken," I explained to him, and then I let out a sigh. "Shall we?"

"I need te find the boatmaster but I'll be up shortly," Archie explained, going off to find the man in question, leaving Jamie and I alone on the dock. I glanced up a bit nervously at the castle. It certainly still looked aged, being around three hundred years old at this point, but it wasn't nearly as dilapidated as it was in my time. I wrapped my arms around my midsection, not entirely sure I actually wanted to enter the castle, when I felt Jamie's hand gently touch my back.

"C'mon, lass," he told me with a smile. "Yer brother will be thrilled te see ye."

"I imagine he'll look a bit different," I said a bit meekly.

"If yer surprised by tha', imagine how he'll feel when he sees how different you look from when he last saw ye," Jamie replied playfully.

"Aye, in Ireland, after leavin' Hy-Brasil," I replied, remembering that awful moment I learned that Jamie and I were on the run yet again.

"He saw te the safety of our bairns, and now he's the Laird. Ye'd be proud of him, I'd say. He's come a long way from the man who sang at Quarter Day," Jamie told me, and I nodded subtly, following Jamie up the ramp to enter Cìosamul Castle. There were some familiar faces, now many years older, but there were also many new ones I didn't recognise, and they didn't recognise me. It felt like I was setting foot here for the first time again, trailing behind my father's cousin, Alasdair Fowlis, with one hand resting protectively over my belly and another holding the small hand of a young child. I had a distinct memory of seeing my grandsire with Archie sitting on his lap, the two red-haired, silver-eyed lads staring down at a piece of parchment. Archie, of course, never did any paperwork, but he loved sitting on his grandsire's lap and simply being there with him. Now, my grandsire was dead, and Archie was no longer that small lad seated on his lap.

We heard the altercation before we saw it. "…and if ye do not punish yer daughter accordin'ly, I will have no choice but te take matters into my own hands!" It was Mr. McElwain, who must have caught Caoimhe and dragged her to the castle. "I caught her stealing from my house!"

"I wasnae stealin' anythin'! I was only rubbin' nettle powder on yer claithes!" I heard Caoimhe exclaim back to Mr. McElwain, who loudly scoffed.

"And how do I ken yer no' lyin', ye wee imp?" Mr. McElwain demanded.

"Mr. McElwain," said Cailean's voice suddenly, startling me a little by how serious it sounded. "I didnae raise my daughter te be a thief, and if she says she didnae steal anythin', then I believe her."

"My Laird, forgive me, but I caught the lass red-handed!" Mr. McElwain exclaimed.

"I was just comin' out of his house but I didnae have anythin' but the jar of nettle powder, which I brought!" Caoimhe exclaimed in her defence. I could almost see my grandsire pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration - did Cailean do the same? "And I only did it because he said I was unladylike!"

"And ye gave truth te my words, ye wanton fiend!" Mr. McElwain snapped.

"Mr. McElwain! I'll thank ye not te imply that my daughter is a whore!" Cailean snapped back at him rather loudly. "Now, I will punish my daughter as I see fit, and such a thing will not happen again, will it, Caoimhe?"

"No, Daddy," Caoimhe replied meekly.

"Oh, but nettle powder is relatively harmless," I ultimately chimed in, poking my head into the open door to the Laird's study and catching everyone off guard. "What, but a wee bit of itchin' fer a day or two? Take a dip in the sea and ye'll be fine."

"And who , might I ask, are ye?" Mr. McElwain demanded with frustration.

"She… She's my sister…" Cailean said with disbelief, and I turned my head to look at him. He had gained quite a few grey hairs since I had last seen him, and he had more wrinkles on his face than I did. He wore spectacles on his nose, but regardless of those differences, he still looked the same, and the same silvery eyes that I had known all my life stared at me wide-eyed behind those spectacles.

"Mrs. Fraser?" asked Mr. McElwain with surprise. "But I thought ye were dead."

"Aye, well, as ye can see, I'm no'," I told him.

"Auntie?" Caoimhe asked suddenly, drawing my attention back to her, and I was almost taken aback by how much she looked like her mother. Saoirse had been very small, and Caoimhe was much taller than her mother had been, but ignoring the height difference, it was obvious that Caoimhe was Saoirse's daughter. She had Saoirse's fair hair and her earthly green eyes, and the kindly smile that her mother once had, plus her wee button nose. It seemed that she also possessed the spirit of her mother, along with her father's mischievous nature.

"Er… Mr. McElwain, we… will continue this conversation another time. I… I must ask ye te please excuse me," said Cailean, addressing Mr. McElwain, who seemed to be fuming at being ignored.

"My Laird," he began, but Cailean cut him off as he slowly stood up.

"Mr. McElwain, if ye'll please," he said, and Mr. McElwain let out a huff and looked at Caoimhe.

"Ye'll stay far away from my home and my family. If I catch sight of ye again near any of them, ye'll get yer bread," Mr. McElwain warned her, and then he left, leaving Cailean, Caoimhe and I alone in the room.

"Christ, Cat," Cailean murmured softly, meeting my eyes again. He came out from behind the desk and approached me, stopping short to take in my appearance. "I… I must say… brown is a good look on ye."

"Aye, and silver is on ye as well," I teased him with a smile, and he started chuckling before erupting into laughter and pulling me into a tight embrace.

"God, Cat! I thought I'd never see ye again!" my brother exclaimed, kissing the side of my head and pulling back from the embrace to look at me. "Damn, ye've gotten auld, havenae ye?"

"And ye've put on a bit of weight, I see," I said back to him, and he chuckled and gripped his softened belly.

"Aye, well. I dinnae have time te exercise as much as I used te," he told me, and then he looked up at Caoimhe. "Can ye believe it, hen? It's yer auntie!"

"I cannae!" Caoimhe exclaimed, taking her turn to hug me tightly as well.

"It's so good te see ye, hen," I told her, kissing her fair hair and pulling back to look at her. I gently touched her face and smiled slightly down at her - though she was taller than her mother, she only stood at around five-foot-six, while I had lost a half inch and now stood at five-foot-ten-and-a-half. "Yer so bonny, ye are. The spit of yer mother, if I've ever seen her." Caoimhe smiled at me a bit sadly, then hugged me again.

"I'm so glad te see ye, Auntie. I've missed ye verra much," she told me.

"I've missed ye, too, and yer brother. Where's Cillian these days?" I asked my brother and my niece, and Caoimhe pulled back excitedly to tell me.

"Oh, he's on the isle wi' his wife!" she told me happily.

"His wife? How auld is he? How auld are you? " I asked my niece, who chuckled a little.

"We're nineteen, Auntie!" she told me.

"Aye, Cillian married Miss Magdalena MacLaren MacNeil," said Cailean.

"Did he really?" I asked, remembering when I had travelled across Scotland after Culloden with a heavily pregnant Magda MacLaren and then delivered her child when she died in childbirth, carrying that child with me and giving her to a kindly couple that couldn't have children of their own.

"Aye, he did, and she's expectin' her first bairn just now," Cailean replied proudly. "I'll be a grandsire!"

"Wow, ye really have gotten auld," I teased him. "I'm glad yer the first one te be a grandparent out of the two of us. It makes me feel younger."

"Ha ha," said Cailean sarcastically, resting his hands on his hips. "What happened te yer face? Ye've got a scratch there."

"Oh, that?" I said, feeling the scabbed-over scratch on my face from one of the shards of Laoghaire's bullet. "Cat fight."

"Huh, I see," Cailean replied curiously. "Caoimhe, why dinnae ye go and fetch yer brother and sister te the library? I want yer auntie te meet them."

"Yes, Daddy," she said, and she turned to leave.

"Caoimhe, wait a moment," he said, and she stopped to face him. "Nettle powder? Really?"

"As Auntie said, it's harmless, save fer an itch!" Caoimhe replied, her cheeks turning pink, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Now, dinnae go tryin' te implicate me in this!" I told her with a laugh, and Cailean, too, laughed.

"All right, go, hen," Cailean said to Caoimhe, and she left. "Did ye see Brèagha yet? She's likely in the studio."

"Aye, I did. She's gone te fetch some ginger tea fer her father," I told him, and he raised an eyebrow at me. "It was such a shock te see her so grown. Last I saw her, she was this wee bairn of five years auld and now…"

"I can imagine," Cailean replied, leaning against his desk. "There were only a few months between when I saw my bairns and tha' was already a lot. But fifteen years? Christ, Cat…" I nodded.

"I was… sorry te hear aboot Saoirse. Archie told me… I was devastated te hear. She was like a sister te me," I said, and Cailean nodded a bit solemnly.

"Aye," he replied quietly. "It was… rough. She was pregnant, and we were so happy te expand our family even further. Caoimhe and Cillian were only ten when she… when she died."

"I heard the bairn lived," I said, and he smiled.

"Aye, she did, and she's the bonniest wee lass ye've ever seen," he replied. "Her name's Riona - it's short fer 'Catrìona', and ye can imagine why. Riona Saoirse Freyja Fowlis, named fer her auntie, her mother, and her great grandmother." I smiled warmly at this, then approached to embrace him again.

"Yer so strong. I was a right mess when I thought Jamie te be dead," I said quietly, and he chuckled a little.

"Ye think I was strong? I didnae come out of my room fer days. Yer son was the one who pulled me out of it," he told me, resting his chin on my head. "I couldnae even see Riona. I was… upset… and my anger was misdirected at her. I blamed her fer Saoirse's death when I shouldnae have, but… Archie talked some sense into me. He's just like ye, ye ken."

"So I've been told," I said with a soft chuckle. "He's so grown, too. He looks just like Grandsire." I paused for a moment, my smile fading ever so slightly. "He's gone, too. And he never saw me again."

"He kens why ye had te go, a phuithar. He didnae blame ye, and he always loved ye, verra much," Cailean replied, rubbing my upper back gently. "Have ye been te see his grave?"

"Not in this century," I said with a soft sigh. "I took my daughter there, though."

"Right, ye had a bairn," said Cailean, pulling back to look at me. "A daughter, aye? I've got another niece?"

"Aye, and she's brilliant," I said, pulling out my metal case and pulling out her school picture to show him, and he gasped a little.

"Is tha'… a St. Catherine's uniform?" he asked me. "Ye went back te Barra?"

"Aye, I did, and speakin' of St. Catherine, do ye want te take a wild guess who that is?" I asked him, and he paused for a moment before he gasped, his eyes wide with shock.

"No!" he exclaimed. " You? "

"Me," I said, drawing his attention back to the photograph. "Her name's Maevis. She… She was a verra bonny thing, so smart, too."

"Was?" he asked me, and for a moment, I was silent.

"She didnae die, but… she was lost te me," I said, turning to sit on the desk beside him. "The war was over when I returned. We'd won, and King Edward IX signed a treaty wi' us, but when he died in 2154, his son… His son, Alexander, dropped a nuclear warhead on Glasgow."

"Christ," said Cailean quietly, and I nodded.

"Over half a million people died," I told him. "Then we were at war again, this time fightin' off an English invasion. I… had te send her away, te keep her safe. Richard Randall was still after me." Cailean scoffed.

"Does the bastard have nothin' else better te do?" he demanded.

"Now, he's burnin' in Hell, and I'm the one that sent him there," I told my brother. "But te keep Maevis safe, Tom and I sent her away. I think she went te America, but… I asked fer all records te be destroyed, so Randall could never find her, but… that also meant that I could never find her again."

"So ye came back," he said, and I shook my head.

"No, no' quite," I told him. "I… had been wounded badly by Randall. I heard… Jamie's voice callin' out te me. I was in the vaults beneath the South Bridge, in Edinburgh. Randall had lured me there pretendin' te be Tom and we fought, he wounded me fairly badly, and I killed him. Then I followed Jamie's voice te another vault and… suddenly, I was lyin' in a bed in the eighteenth century wi' Jamie and Archie hoverin' over me."

"I take it Randall is why ye suddenly have brown hair," he said, and I nodded. "And the glasses?"

"Blind as a bleedin' bat," I told him, and he chuckled.

"What aboot Tom? What happened wi' him?"

"I married him, and that was a mistake," I told him, and he laughed.

"I could have told ye that," he said to me.

"Aye, well, he was a manipulative arse and he asked me te marry him right after I'd had Maevis. I verra nearly died havin' her, she had te be born via cesarean," I replied. "I left him a few years later, though, moved te Barra. Cleaned up our auld house, visited Mam and Da and our brothers. Introduced them te Maevis, too, and Maidie."

"Maidie? As in Maidie Mackenzie?" he asked, and I nodded.

"She married Don Tanner and had two bonny bairns. She sent them away, too, when the war started… and Don died in Glasgow," I replied a bit sadly. "Ye ken… there's wildflowers where they were killed… It was like their lives were soaked up by the ground, and they lived among the flowers."

"Tha's verra beautiful," said Cailean with a soft smile. "I wish I could have seen it… My last memory of our home as we kent it was it goin' up in flames wi' columns of smoke comin' up. Mam and Da, Alasdair, Uilleam, Iain and… and Calum… lyin' in a puddle of their own blood…"

"It was beautiful," I said, and then I gave him another picture, this time of myself and Maidie with Rory and Maevis standing in front of the home after we had finished rebuilding it.

"Wow, Maids looks… the same… She was always verra beautiful, but she looks as if she hasnae aged a day," he said, smiling at the picture, then he took notice of the patch of wildflowers, his smile turning to one of nostalgia. "I think yer right aboot the flowers… They live in them."

"They do," I said. "Ye can keep that one, if ye like. I got te live there, so it's in my memory forever."

"Thanks," he said with a smile, adjusting his spectacles as he handed me back the picture of Maevis. I then gave him another one - the picture of our parents holding me as a newborn.

"Ye can keep that, too. I've go' a few others," I told him. There was the sound of voices coming from outside of the study and we both looked up, urgently putting the photographs and case away as Jamie and Brèagha came into the study.

"Jamie!" Cailean exclaimed, his eyes widening at Jamie's arm in a sling. "Christ, what happened te ye?"

"Same cat fight," I told him, and Jamie raised an eyebrow at me.

"Aye, well… I advise against takin' two wives," said Jamie jokingly, and Cailean laughed.

"I'll heed tha'," he said, embracing his brother-in-law. "Oh! The library! Cat, I want ye te meet yer niece and nephew!" He kindly touched Brèagha's cheek on his way out of the study, and Jamie and I exchanged an amused look as we followed him. "So I told ye I had a daughter, but what I didnae tell ye is that I apparently had another son. Remember I told ye aboot Annika? The Dutch whore in New Amsterdam?"

"Is this yer bastard son?" I asked him. "Believe it or no', I met one of his descendants once on Barra. She told me that a letter was found written by Archie tha' mentioned him."

"Really?" Cailean asked with surprise.

"One of his descendants?" asked Brèagha, and my eyes widened when I realised I practically said I was from the future.

"Er… a friend, I meant," I said, not sure how to recover from that.

"Oh, aye, likely a friend he had in New Amsterdam come te Edinburgh," Cailean chimed in, saving my slip up. "Well, I named him Calum, and wait until ye see why. He's the absolute spit of him, he is!"

"He's the spit of himself?" Brèagha asked with confusion.

"No, hen, yer uncle means he looks like yer Uncle Calum, Cailean's twin," I told her.

"Uncle Cailean, ye have a twin?" Brèagha asked him.

"I had one, hen, a long time ago," Cailean replied, pushing open the door to the library, where Caoimhe, a young lass of about nine or ten and a lad of about twenty were waiting for us.

"Daddy!" cried the young lass - this must have been Riona - and she ran to her father and leapt into his arms.

"There's my wee lassie!" Cailean exclaimed happily, kissing her cheek.

"Hi, Uncle Jamie! Hi, Brèagha!" cried little Riona happily, waving at Jamie and Brèagha.

"Hello, a nighean ruadh ," Jamie said to her cheerfully. When I looked up at the lad, I was a bit taken aback - Calum and Cailean were identical twins, but of course, having grown up with them, I could always tell the difference, and this Calum really did carry the air of his uncle. He was a bit darker-skinned, but did look a lot like Cailean, save for his honey-coloured hazel eyes, and he stood back quietly. Cailean and Calum were both pranksters, but Cailean was always the vocal one while Calum was a lot quieter.

"Riona, honey, I want ye te meet yer Auntie Cat. She's who ye were named fer," Cailean told his daughter, drawing my attention back to the young lass, who gasped.

" You're Auntie Cat?" little Riona exclaimed as Cailean set her back down.

"Aye, hen, I- OOF, " I exclaimed as the young lass threw herself at me and wrapped her arms tightly around me. I couldn't help but chuckle and gently run my fingers through her bonny red waves. "Yer verra sweet, arenae ye?" I had to catch myself for a moment, because looking down at this young red-haired lass, who was on the shorter side for her age, was like looking down at Maevis hugging me again, and I teared up just a little as I knelt down to hug her properly. "It's… verra nice te meet ye, Riona… I've heard a lot aboot ye."

"Daddy talks aboot ye all the time!" Riona said excitedly, pulling back to look at me, and I was reminded again of how this was not Maevis, this was Saoirse's daughter, which could be told from her delicate features and her earthly green eyes. "Yer verra pretty!"

"So are you, a leannan ," I told her, and she giggled then turned to hug Jamie's legs.

"It's nice te see ye again, a nighean ruadh ," Jamie said to her, glancing up at me as I wiped a tear from my eye looking at Jamie hugging this little lass - as if he was hugging Maevis.

"Calum, come and meet yer auntie," Cailean said to his son, who stood up.

"Ye'll love Auntie Cat, brother. She's a hero, ye ken," Caoimhe told him as he approached and bowed a little to me.

"It is… nice te meet you, Auntie," said Calum, giving me a meek, slightly uncomfortable smile.

"It's nice te meet ye as well, Calum. Ye look just like yer father, ye ken," I told him kindly, sensing that this lad didn't want to be touched, so I didn't hug him.

"Aye, wait until ye see Cillian," said Cailean. "I'll send word that ye've returned and ask him and his wife te join us fer dinner."

"Tha' would be great," Jamie replied. "Catrìona will need te rest fer a bit before dinner."

"Jamie," I said to him, and he gave me a firm look.

"Ye've just been unwell, and ye swam a half mile in strong currents, fer Christ's sake," he replied.

"Oh, ye can have my room. I'll stay in another," Brèagha chimed in. "I've been sleepin' in Mama's auld bedchamber."

"Oh, I dinnae want te banish ye from yer room, hen," I said, but she waved me off.

"Go, if Da says ye need yer rest, then ye need yer rest. How many times did ye tell everraone else that they needed te rest?" she teased me, and I playfully narrowed my eyes at her.

"Yer too like yer father," I told her, and Jamie chuckled.

"Aye, she is, and I'm glad of it. Now ye have us both te combat yer stubbornness," he said.

"Go, I've go' work te get back te, and a punishment te dole out fer a certain mischevious lass," said Cailean, eyeing his daughter suspiciously, and she blushed a little.

"I still say he deserved it," Caoimhe said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I told you not te do it," Calum told her, and she scoffed.

"Nobody tells yer sister what te do. Ye tell her te do one thing, she does the exact opposite," said Cailean, and we all shared a quiet chuckle.


Once Jamie had me settled in the bed we used to share, he laid another wool blanket on top of me, and I scoffed. "Ye'll suffocate me wi' heat. Quit it," I told him.

"Ye need te keep warm. It's cold out," he told me, turning to stoke the fire.

"I dinnae need ye te be my nurse," I told him. "Hell, I dinnae need you, Brèagha and Archie teamin' up against me!"

"Do ye want me te put yer tartan back in the box?" he asked. "How did ye get it, anyway?"

"I dinnae ken if ye want te do that. It's the same tartan," I told him. "It was still there - will be there still in four hundred years. I got it before the war, tha's how I found yer letter. Remember?"

"Aye," he said. "Well, the English dinnae hang around now, wi' Cailean pardoned, so I suppose it'll be safe." He tucked it away into a drawer, then turned to look at me. "Do ye want me te fetch some white willow bark fer tea?"

"I'll be fine, Jamie," I said to him, and then I let out a sigh, a little bit bored.

"Suppose I need te write te Fergus," Jamie said after a moment, going to the writing desk to sit down. He unfolded his spectacles and slipped them on, then grabbed a piece of parchment and dipped the quill into it.

"What will ye tell Jenny?" I asked him.

"I dinnae want te think of that just now," he replied. "I want te get te Paris as quickly as possible. He'll meet us there wi' my men and we'll go."

"Did ye ask Cailean aboot the ship?" I asked him.

"No, I imagine we'll have better information in Paris. Most ships from other countries dinnae stop in the isles of Scotland before goin' on te the New World," he told me.

"Ye think the ship went te the Americas?" I asked him, and he let out a sigh.

"I dinnae ken, Catrìona. I just want te go, quickly, and get wee Ian back," Jamie told me a little shortly, and I scoffed.

"Well, dinnae take yer frustrations out on me. I'm no' the one who married the mad bitch demandin' a ransom fer her alimony," I told him equally shortly, rolling over so my back was to him, and he let out another sigh.

"I'm sorry. I dinnae mean te be short wi' ye," he said quietly, scribbling away at the letter. Once he'd finished, he blew on it to dry the ink, then folded it up and sealed it with a wax seal, using his father's ring for the seal. He stood up, then made his way to the other side of the room, stopping before the door and looking at me. "I dinnae want te rush yer reunion wi' yer brother and yer nieces, and Bree as well, but we must leave as quickly as we can. There'll be plenty of time fer ye te spend wi' them once we've got Ian."

"Ye mean te say we're not takin' Brèagha?" I asked him.

"God, no! I dinnae ken what we'll face, and I'll no' risk puttin' my daughter in danger wi' pirates abroad," he told me. "No, she's safe here, and she'll stay here so she'll stay safe."

"Tha's my daughter! I cannae leave her behind!" I exclaimed as I sat up.

"Then ye can stay as well," he told me. "Yer in no condition te travel anyway. It's best if ye stay behind, fer yer safety."

"While yer gone fer months, even a year, with no word?" I asked, and he let out a huff.

"Either ye come wi' me or ye stay here wi' Brèagha. Ye cannae have it both ways, Catrìona," he said to me firmly. "Brèagha hasnae left this isle but once, when I brought her te Lallybroch, and she was under mine and Archie's protection. She isnae experienced wi' the rest of the world, or wi' fightin' as ye are. She cannae protect herself as ye can, so I dinnae want te risk her bein' in danger."

"Then we can protect her," I told him, but he shook his head.

"She's grown, Catrìona. She's not a child any longer. We cannae keep an eye on her all of the time," he replied. "I must go and send this out. I'll bring ye some willow bark tea." With that said, he was gone, and I let out a soft huff.


20 October, 1766

A few days, I'd been at the castle, getting to know my daughter, my nieces and my nephews, getting to know my son better and learning more about my brother and what he'd been up to. Jamie was getting antsy, wanting to leave as soon as we could, but a storm started brewing, and Cailean insisted that we stay. Cailean said no such ship had come through the harbour at Castlebay, nor did they see one like that off the coast. He suggested the ship may have gone north of Scotland and gone to the continent, but of course, we couldn't be sure. He did, however, tell us that the flag belonged to Portugal, and that the ship was likely headed for the West Indies, since Portugal had no stake in America. It was a place to start, but of course, the Indies were huge as well.

I had gone to the main isle with Archie, Riona and Caoimhe accompanying me. Brèagha had wanted to come, but evidently, she was painting the marriage portrait of Cillian and his wife, Magdalena. With him being next in line for Clan Chief of Fowlis of Barra, and to be Laird of Cìosamul after Cailean, he needed his wedding portrait done, and Brèagha evidently had become the clan's official portrait painter. It was a high honour, and after seeing her work, I expressed pride in her skill. I was a bit of an artist myself, but what Brèagha could do with a brush and some paints was beyond anything I could possibly imagine. With my son and my nieces, we stepped off of the boat with intentions of going to the cemetery, where Grandsire had been buried seven years earlier.

"What was Grandsire like, Auntie?" Riona asked me, holding onto my hand tightly as we walked. "Daddy says I met him when I was wee, but I dinnae remember."

"I imagine ye dinnae," I told her as cheerfully as I could muster. "Yer great grandsire was a great man. He was well respected among the Scottish clans in the days when we had them."

"What happened te the clans, Auntie? Arenae we in a clan?" Riona asked me.

"Technically, yes," I told her. "But fer the last twenty years or so, the English havenae allowed us te have the clans any longer, so we're a secret clan now."

"A secret clan?" Riona asked, her eyes wide.

"Aye, so ye need te keep quiet aboot it, wee sister," said Caoimhe playfully, giving her a little tickle, and she giggled.

"Grandsire once told me that he introduced the kilt te the English court," Archie chimed in. "He wore it in front of Queen Anne, who was queen a long time ago."

"Who's the queen now, cousin?" Riona asked him.

"We have a king now, King George III," said Archie to her. "But I believe he has a queen! Queen Charlotte, I believe?"

"Aye, that sounds familiar," said Caoimhe. "A pretty name, but verra German. I wouldnae want te name my daughter 'Charlotte'."

"I imagine he wouldnae want te name his daughter 'Caoimhe' either," Archie teased her, and she gave him a shove.

"What's 'German'?" Riona asked.

"It's a language spoken in the Holy Roman Empire," I said to my young niece. "And the people who speak it are often called Germans."

"Or pretenders," said Caoimhe, and I gave her a look to keep quiet. "What? It's what Daddy says!"

"Yer father needs te mind his mouth or he'll find himself stripped of his title as Laird before he's scarcely begun," I told her, glancing around for any red coats, but I didn't see any. The paranoia still stuck with me, despite the fact that I knew the English were no longer on Barra at this point. We continued on our way to the cemetery. It was cold and bleak, with the sky overcast with grey clouds. I paused at the gate, seeing many new graves that of course were there in the twenty-second century, but weren't when I was last here , which was for my grandmother's burial.

"Ye all right, Mama?" Archie asked me quietly, and I nodded.

"Aye, I…" I said, and then I took a deep breath. "I'll be fine." We entered the cemetery, and I noticed that quite a few names had been added - names of patients I had tended to, names of elderly people that were already aging when I was there fifteen years ago, and names of people I was more familiar with. One of those names was Beitiris MacNeil, and I stopped and knelt down by her grave, which had grown lichens and moss. "Oh, Bei…" I delicately touched the headstone, bearing the dates '1725 - 1753' - she had only been twenty-eight years old. "What happened?" I asked Archie.

"Childbirth, I think," he said. "I was just a lad, so I dinnae remember much. I remember Cousin Liùsaidh took her death verra hard, though. She didnae want te sing anymore, or play music."

"She and Beitiris were verra close," I said, letting out a soft sigh. "I hate that I missed this. I could have saved her."

"I dinnae ken if ye could have, Mama," Archie told me, gently touching my shoulder. I glanced up to where I knew my grandfather was buried, seeing that Caoimhe and Riona were already there, and I stood to walk slowly over to it. I grasped Archie's arm firmly as we approached, coming across the grave marker for both of my grandparents:

Here layeth the earthly forms of MAIREAD MACLEOD FOWLIS, 1685 - 1750, and EAIRDSIDH RUADH FOWLIS, 7TH LAIRD OF CÌOSAMUL, 1688 - 1759. Together for all of eternity.

"How did it happen? And when?" I asked my son and my nieces.

"Third of March, and it was an apoplexy," Archie replied. "He… went peacefully. Or so I'm told. I wasnae here."

"What's an 'apoh-'… an 'apopluh'… a-an 'apoplecky'?" Riona asked, struggling with the word.

"It's when ye have a bleed in yer brain," I told her. "Verra bad bleedin' that… ye cannae recover from."

"Is it painful?" Riona asked me.

"I imagine so, but… not fer long," I replied. I knelt down onto the ground and rested my palm over the ground. The grass was fresher than it was in the surrounding area, having been dug up only within the last seven years and regrown. In my time, the grass was uniform, but here, it was a reminder that the grave was still relatively fresh. "Hey, Grandsire… I'm sorry I missed ye…"

"Riona, come along a minute," said Caoimhe, detecting that I wanted a moment alone, and then she took Riona and led her away from the grave. From my pocket, I pulled out a tiny jar full of dirt - dirt I took from the patch of wildflowers that had grown where my parents had died - and dug into the ground.

"This here, a Sheanair, a Sheanmhair , is a small piece of yer son, yer daughter-in-law, and yer four grandsons. I ken ye never met them in life, but I hope ye were reunited wi' them beyond," I said, putting the little vial in the hole I had dug. "I carried them wi' me when I needed them, but now, I think ye need them more."

"Tha's verra kind, Mama," Archie said, kneeling down beside me.

"Yer grandparents missed my father verra much. I imagine this will give them some comfort," I said, glancing up at the gravestone again, where the weathering was different from my grandmother's name and my grandsire's, which was carved nearly ten years after hers. Archie rested a hand on my shoulder, and I covered that hand with my own, laying one hand flat on the ground over my grandparents, who could be together once again.


"Look, Jamie, I cannae in good conscious let ye leave wi' my sister and my nephew with the weather as bad as it is," I heard Cailean say as I approached the library.

"I want te go, too," I heard Brèagha say.

"Ye'll no' be goin', Brèagha. It isnae safe," I heard Jamie chime in.

"Oh, but ye dinnae mind Mama goin'," Brèagha demanded, and I could picture her crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yer mother fought in the verra rebellion that ye were born in. I can assure ye, she can handle herself well. Ye dinnae even ken how te fight," Jamie told her as I entered the library.

"What's goin' on?" I asked, trying to ease the tensions.

"Jamie wants te leave fer France as soon as he can," Cailean said to me, pushing his spectacles up on his nose.

"And yet Cailean willnae let me claimin' there's a storm brewin' that I dinnae see," Jamie replied irritably.

"Oh, dinnae underestimate an ocean storm, Da. They blow in quickly and can be quite fierce," said Archie. "Could be a hurricane, more likely."

"And I want te go, but Da says it's too dangerous, yet he's lettin' you go," Brèagha said in a bit of a whiny tone.

"Oh, bloody hell," I said with a heavy sigh. "Well, as an Islander myself, I agree wi' Cailean and Archie. The storm will come quickly and we're best not on the water fer it."

"Christ, Catrìona! This is our nephew! " Jamie exclaimed at me.

"Aye, and we're no good te him if we drown in a storm, are we?" I asked him. "As fer Brèagha…" I sighed softly. "Hen, I agree wi' yer father."

"Mama!" Brèagha exclaimed.

"Ye dinnae ken how te fight and if it's the Indies we're goin' te, the piracy there is outrageous and the waters arenae regulated. I dinnae want ye in danger, either. Yer safe here," I told her.

"But I havenae seen ye in years and yer goin' te leave again?" Brèagha demanded from me.

"Brèagha, lass, there'll be plenty of time fer ye te be wi' yer mother when we return," Jamie told her, but she only scoffed.

"I dinnae want te hear it!" she snapped, and then she stormed out of the library.

"Yup, tha's yer daughter, Cat," said Cailean, and I lightly smacked his arm.

"Can I go?" Caoimhe chimed in suddenly, having reappeared.

"What? No!" Cailean exclaimed, caught off guard by his daughter's outburst. "No! If they're no' lettin' Bree go, what makes ye think ye'll be allowed te go?"

"But I have a bit more experience in tha' than she does, dinnae I?" Caoimhe asked, and Cailean scoffed.

"Tormentin' an English captain by catchin' seagulls and releasin' them into his quarters isnae more experience, Caoimhe," he told her.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, but it seemed Cailean didn't hear me. Catching seagulls?

"Besides, what do ye expect me te do without my best girl here wi' me?" Cailean asked his daughter.

"I thought Riona was yer best girl?" Caoimhe asked him, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yer both my best girl," Cailean replied.

"Daddy, 'best' means 'the best', as in, 'better than all the rest'. Ye cannae have two 'best girls'," Caoimhe replied, and Cailean let out a sigh.

"And that one is certainly her mother's daughter," he replied, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yer father's right, hen. We cannae risk ye bein' in danger," I told my niece, who let out a sigh.

"It's just so boring here!" she cried.

"I didnae ken I was so boring," Cailean said to me.

"I could have told ye that," I replied, teasing him. "Ye go from stealin' cattle and travellin' the continent after bein' exiled from Scotland only te settle down and be a Laird."

"Daddy, ye were exiled?" Caoimhe asked.

"We are not tellin' her this story right after she called me boring, Catrìona," Cailean playfully scolded me.

"All right, none of the lassies will be comin', but I still want te leave as soon as possible. This is my nephew, Cailean. I'm sure ye'd be just as eager if it were yers," Jamie said to Cailean.

"Aye, I ken, a bhràthair , but I willnae have ye, my sister, and my nephew dead when ye could have just stayed here durin' the storm," Cailean replied.

"So it's settled. We stay durin' the storm, and tha's that," I said. "We'll go te France once it's passed over, and from there, we'll figure out what te do next."

"Fine," said Jamie, clearly frustrated. "Suppose I should start writin' a letter te my sister and explain that I've lost her son." With that said, he turned and left, leaving the rest of us in silence.

"So… Dinner soon?" Archie asked, breaking the silence.


21 October, 1766

The following day, the wind picked up, and the clouds grew darker. It was evident that a storm was brewing, which sent Jamie into a silent brood. I hadn't seen Brèagha since she stormed out of the library, so I went looking for her first in the room she had moved to, and then to the paint studio, where I found her. It was up in one of the towers, and with the windows open, her sketches were flapping against the walls, where they were pinned. "Ye might want te close the windows, hen, or ye'll lose yer fine art," I said to her as I entered the studio. Her back was to me as she worked on a painting, and she didn't turn to look at me.

"They'll be fine. The smell of the air helps me concentrate," she replied neutrally.

"Aye, the smell of sea salt is verra comforting, isnae it?" I asked her. "Are ye still upset wi' us?" She let out a huff.

"I just got ye back, Mama, and yer leavin' me again fer who kens how long! Why cannae ye stay or let me go with ye?" she asked me, turning around now to look at me.

"Because I dinnae ken how dangerous it is, hen, and if yer father or yer brother are injured, there's no one I trust more than myself te see te their wounds," I told her.

"So I just get left behind again, like I always have? Because I'm no' a man?" Brèagha demanded from me.

"Oh, hen… Believe me, no one kens anger at bein' treated as lesser simply fer bein' a woman more than I do. But this isnae aboot that. The truth of the matter is, ye dinnae ken how te fight or defend yerself, and we cannae keep an eye on ye all of the time. There are some truly vile people out there, and my fear is ye willnae recognise them because ye dinnae ken what te look fer."

"So teach me. I want te learn all of those things."

"It isnae that simple. It'll take experience, and tha's one yer father and I dinnae want ye te have. It's an experience that I wish I didnae have, but I've no choice," I told her. For a moment, she was silent as she looked away, but then she glanced back up at me.

"What kind of experiences?" she asked me. "If ye willnae let me go, and risk gettin' these 'experiences' fer myself, then ye should tell me what they are, at least."

"I forget that ye arenae a bairn anymore. The things that have happened te me are… things I would never say te a child. But ye arenae a child anymore, are ye? Yer a grown woman, wi' a whole different view of the world than that of a child," I told her, and then I let out a sigh. "When I was fifteen… I watched my parents and four of my five brothers be murdered by an English captain. The auldest of those brothers was thirteen, and the youngest… he was two."

"Two years auld?" Brèagha asked me, and I nodded.

"Yer uncle and I were forced te go on the run, and we were fer five years together before we were separated. Shortly after we witnessed the murder of our family… I was raped, by… more than one man," I said, and her eyes widened.

"Oh, Mama," she said sympathetically, but I shook my head.

"I was always resilient when I was younger. I'd no' had as much trauma as I do today, so I bounced back. I learned from it, started dressin' more… masculine te avoid it. Then when Cailean and I were separated, I… I was on my own. I met yer father no' long after. Te say our lives together was tumultuous would be an understatement. There was an English captain that was after us, did… unspeakable things te yer father, raped me… all while we had just had Archie and… and Brian." She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Who's Brian?" she asked.

"Archie's twin brother," I told her. "He died aboot six months after he was born. He… he was born verra poorly, and I did everrathin' I could te save him, but… it wasnae enough."

"Mama… I'm so sorry," Brèagha said to me. For a moment, I was silent before I continued.

"Then the rebellion happened, and Daddy and I were separated. I was pregnant wi' ye, and I thought he was dead. I had te flee from Culloden te Barra all on my own while pregnant and havin' te care fer a wee lad. Havin' te stay strong fer my children was… one of the most difficult things I've ever had te endure." I paused for a moment, looking down at my hands. "And then a few years later… we had te part again. Havin' te leave behind my children fer their safety, and live fer fifteen years not kennin' if they or my husband were dead or alive… Brèagha, I never want ye te experience the things that I have, te meet people as horrible as I have. It isnae aboot ye bein' a woman… It's because the world can be a terrible place, and some parts are no place fer someone as gifted nor as bonny as you. Ye dinnae want te ken what it would do te me if anythin' happened te ye." I glanced up to find Brèagha's blue eyes cast down to the floor, and after a moment, she nodded.

"All right," she said, and then she looked up at me. "I understand. I'll not fight ye and Da on it anymore. But please, Mama… Hurry back. I do have the experience of growin' up without my parents, and that alone is awful enough."

"I imagine so," I told her, and then I approached her and pulled her into my arms, bending down so I could kiss the top of her head. "I promise ye, I willnae disappear on ye again, and I will come back te ye as soon as I am able. And when I do, we'll all live as a family in our home once again, as we had before our family was torn apart."

"Oh, our home," said Brèagha. "Aboot tha'… Cousin Liùsaidh's been livin' there wi' her husband and children. Grandsire gave them the house because he didnae ken when or even if ye might come back."

"Ah," I said, feeling a bit like I had been slapped. "Well, I… suppose I cannae blame him. It's a reasonable thing te think." Great. So no home at Lallybroch, and no home on Barra, save for a castle that hardly even felt like home without my grandparents. "Then… we'll figure somethin' else out."

"Promise?" Brèagha asked, looking up at me, and I gave her a smile.

"Aye, hen. I promise," I told her, bending down to kiss her forehead and brush a red curl out of her eyes.


23 October, 1766

By this point, the storm was quite vicious, and I sat in the library looking down at the waves crashing against the rocks that held up the castle. Sometimes, I couldn't help but fear that the waves would penetrate the walls, taking down the castle and reclaiming it for the sea, but I had lived here through worse storms before, so I knew the castle was formidable.

"Ah, there ye are," I heard Cailean say, and I looked up to see him come into the library. "I have a present fer ye."

"A present?" I asked, my interest captured as he came into the room. From behind his back, he pulled out my old medical bag, a cheeky grin on his face as my eyes lit up when I saw it. It looked a bit worn, for certain, but for the most part, was still intact and in excellent condition. "My bag!"

"Aye," Cailean replied, smiling as I took the bag. "Thora used it fer a time, but then I asked if she could give it te me. She still uses the instruments, but if ye'd like, I can ask fer them back."

"Oh, no need. I took a field medic pack before I went out on the battlefield. I've got everrathin' I need, includn' high dose nanomed injections," I told him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"High dose?" he asked, and I nodded.

"The side effects are somethin' awful, but they're the reason I'm alive today. I was stabbed and shot by Randall, and thanks te a high dose, I survived," I told him. "It'll be so much better fer me te store all my things in here. I've got a blood pressure cuff, too. Which reminds me, I should check yers before we leave. Da had high blood pressure problems, too."

"I've felt relatively fine," he told me.

"Wi' Grandsire havin' died of a stroke, I want te check it, too. Fer all we ken, he had high blood pressure, too, and tha's why he died of a stroke," I replied as I opened the bag to look inside.

"Well, I have another present fer ye, too," he said, and with his other hand, pulled out my bow and quiver, folded up and shining as if it hadn't been touched in fifteen years.

"My bow!" I exclaimed, accepting it and snapping it open to have a look at it. "Ye still have this?"

"Of course, Da made it," he replied. "I restored it. I didnae use it after we left Ireland, but it still looked a wee bit rough, so I fixed it up fer ye."

"Cailean… this is incredible," I said, admiring his work, and then I embraced him tightly. "Thank ye verra much!"

"Ye need somethin' te protect yerself with at sea," he told me, smiling when we broke our embrace. "Must ye go so soon?"

"I want te go with Jamie, help him keep his head while he goes after his nephew," I told him, and then I let out a soft sigh. "I dinnae want te leave ye, or Brèagha, or my nieces and nephews, but… I must. I'll come back, and… I suppose we'll live here at the castle."

"Ah, aye. I almost forgot Liùsaidh was livin' in yer auld house. It's too bad she's been so unwell lately, she'd have liked te see ye," Cailean told me.

"What's the matter? Perhaps I can pay her a visit before we leave," I said.

"Ah, Thora's been the healer on the isle, she and her eldest daughter as well as some other wee apprentices. They ken the people, too," Cailean said, and I nodded, letting out a soft sigh.

"Aye," I said. So I really didn't have a place here anymore. Barra, which had once been my home, was no longer. I had been replaced as the healer, my home was occupied, my room in the castle wasn't even my own - it was Brèagha's. No home at Lallybroch, and no home in Barra.

The emotions gained from this realisation carried with me for the rest of the day, and later that night, as I sat in the window watching the inky black white-capped waves crash on the rocky shore, I heard Jamie come into the room. "Are ye all right?" he asked me. "Ye were quiet durin' dinner, and ye didnae come te the library after." For a moment, I didn't answer him. "Catrìona?"

"Where's home now?" I asked him quietly. "It sure as hell isnae here, and it isnae Lallybroch, either."

" Mo chridhe … We can figure that out when we return," Jamie told me, but I shook my head.

"Barra doesnae even need me as a healer any longer. I trained Thora so damn well, she's taken over. My cousin is residin' in our auld home, and she's go' bairns as well, so it's not like we can ask them te leave. And forget Lallybroch. Jenny hates me, Laoghaire and her daughters will make it a livin' hell fer me," I answered him, catching his reflection in the glass. "Cailean's a man I dinnae ken… He's busy, he's settled, he doesnae even tease me as much as he used te. Saoirse's gone, my grandsire's gone, Beitiris is gone, my nieces and nephews are grown, my children are grown and have developed lives and personalities that I still dinnae ken… This isnae even my room anymore, either."

"I imagine it's… a bit stark," Jamie replied, sitting on the bed, which was opposite of the window. "Lallybroch no longer bein' home was bad enough, but… I suppose yer right aboot Barra no longer bein' home as well."

"When we return, where will we go? Some unfamiliar place that we ken even less?" I asked, and Jamie let out a heavy breath.

"We'll figure it out as soon as we have Ian," he told me. "Until then, I dinnae plan te set foot in Scotland again, no' without him."

"Scotland, too, is unrecognisable," I said rather starkly. "It's like England succeeded in makin' us in her image, aye?"

"Aye, I… suppose it is a bit strange," Jamie replied. "When I first returned after Helwater, I didnae feel at home here either. But I dinnae ken any other place that'll feel even remotely like it."

"Guess we'll just cross that bridge when we get there," I said, pulling my tartan tighter around myself. "What aboot Brèagha? Should we tell her the truth aboot me?"

"I… I dinnae think she would understand, Catrìona," Jamie replied.

"She should ken. She's my daughter, and Archie kens," I replied.

"Aye, but… now I dinnae believe is the proper time. Perhaps when we return. She'll have so many questions… Ye'll have all the time in the world te answer them when we return," he told me, and I let out a sigh.

"Aye… All the time in the world," I said.


28 October, 1766

Finally, the storm had passed, and the last of the surges receded. There was damage on the shore, and some homes were flooded, which meant Cailean would be kept busy sorting out how best to help his tenants. The Cailean I knew was irresponsible, reckless, convinced he was invincible, but this one… This one was stern, always buzzing about bouncing from one task to the next. He seemed tired all of the time having to deal with tenant complaints and taxes and God knew what else, which likely explained the several grey hairs that had sprouted during our stay.

He chartered a ship for us to take to Oban, and then to Le Havre, and he had to quickly bid us farewell so he could go and check out the damage to some of the homes and businesses. "I'm sorry te see ye leave, a phuithar. I wish ye could have stayed longer," he told me as he embraced me.

"I suppose it's best, I dinnae want te distract ye," I told him. "Ye seem so stressed out."

"Aye, well, bein' Laird and Clan Chief is exhaustin', I'll give ye that," he said. "God, fifteen years apart and all I get wi' ye is a week. Ye'd better stay longer when ye return. I promise I'll make more time fer ye. Kennin' yer here now makes that easier." He chuckled lightly, but I only gave him a meek smile.

"What else can I say except fer the fact that… yer yer own person now. Yer not that wee lad that relied on me te keep ye alive, nor are ye that young reckless fool who was always in trouble," I told him, and at that, I chuckled a little. "Yer grown, yer a father, and ye have responsibilities."

"Aye, I ken. Sometimes, I wish Seàrlas had just done it instead of movin' te the colonies wi' his wife," Cailean said, and he chuckled. "Clever bastard. He was smart te escape this."

"Ye should have trapped him before he left," I said, and then I embraced him again. "I'll miss ye… Take care of my daughter fer me, will ye?"

"Ye have my word," he told me, kissing the side of my head, and when he broke the embrace, he looked at Archie, who had just come off of the ship. "And you , take care of yer mother fer me. Tha's an order as yer Clan Chief."

"Aye, Uncle, I will," said Archie, playfully giving his uncle a military salute.

"Off ye go, then. Go and see te yer tenants," I told him.

"Aye, I should. Write te me when ye arrive in France, aye? I need te ken yer safe. And let me ken when yer leavin' as well," he said as he started down the road.

"I will. I'll see ye soon," I called after him, and then he was gone.

"Mama," I heard Brèagha say, and I turned to look at her. She had a sad look on her face, so I smiled and touched her cheek. "Must ye go?"

"Aye, if only te keep yer father and yer brother safe," I told her. "Keep an eye on yer uncle fer me, make sure he doesnae overwork himself. I dinnae want te see him gone full grey when I return." Brèagha chuckled a little, then let out a soft sigh.

"I'll miss ye, Mama, and Archie and Da as well," she told me, hugging me tightly.

"I'll miss ye, too, hen," I told her, kissing the top of her head.

"Dinnae fash, lass, we'll return te ye as soon as we can," I heard Jamie say behind me, and we both glanced up at him. I reached out one arm to him to draw him in, and he embraced us both, kissing our hair. "My bonny lassies, both of ye."

"How kind of ye te call me a 'lassie' and not an auld crone," I teased him, and he chuckled lightly.

"Da, ye'll take care of Mama, won't ye? Make sure she returns?" Brèagha asked her father, who smiled at his daughter.

"Aye, of course I will," he told her. "I'll not let yer mother out of my sight."

"Oh, group hug? I want in," came Archie's voice as he squeezed his way between Brèagha and Jamie, and Brèagha scoffed.

"Maybe I willnae miss ye after all," she told her brother, who fake gasped.

"Well, I'll tell what I willnae miss, and tha's sittin' fer a portrait while ye paint me," he told her, and she rolled her eyes and let go of us all, shoving his face away.

"Go annoy someone else!" she teased him.

"I asked Caoimhe te annoy ye in my place," Archie told his sister, and I couldn't help but chuckle at their sibling banter.

"How aboot we dinnae annoy anyone and admit that we all love each other and will be reunited again soon?" I chimed in.

"Aye, we must leave soon, if we're te catch a ship te Le Havre by the end of the day," Jamie said, glancing back behind him at the ship. He turned his attention back to Brèagha and smiled, raising his arms to embrace her. "I love ye, mo nighean loidsear. We'll see ye again, soon."

"I love ye, too, Da. And ye as well, Mama. And though I'm ashamed te say it, I love Archie, too," Brèagha said, and Archie faked feeling touched.

"What an honour," he said playfully, then got another shove. I glanced up where Caoimhe was standing with Riona and Calum - Cillian had gone with his father to see to the tenants - and waved to them.

"We'll see ye all soon, aye?" I said to them all.

"Oh, dinnae threaten us like tha'," Caoimhe replied in an effort to be light-hearted, but I could tell that she longed for the adventure we were about to face. After bidding my daughter and my nieces and nephew farewell one final time, and stifling tears so I didn't cry as I said goodbye to Brèagha, we boarded the ship, leaving Scotland behind yet again for a future unknown to us.