The White Raven
"What kind of bird is that?" Roger asked to himself out loud. "It looks like a raven, except it's white. Have you ever seen a white raven Jamie?"
Jamie was sitting in the shade under the tree next to Roger. He had his arms wrapped around his knees and his head resting on them. At Roger's comment he looked up. He did not see anything. He turned to Roger and inquired, "Where?"
Roger pointed off to Jamie's left about 25 yards. A tree stump still to be removed from the area they were clearing for a new garden. It was standing there, on top of the stump, cleaning its feathers. It lifted its head, looked Jamie straight in the eye and 'cawed'. It then flew off to a stump a little farther away, landed, looked Jamie once again in the eye and 'cawed'. It did the same thing a third time but after it 'cawed' it looked at Jamie again tilted its head and flapped its wings but did not fly off.
"That's strange," Roger said, stating the obvious. "It's like the bird is trying to tell you something. Is Timmy in the well Lassie?" Roger laughed as he said it. Jamie turned his head and looked at Roger. "The three of you are loons, ya ken that?" Jamie said and shook his head. Claire and Bree were the worst at saying things he just didn'a ken but now Roger was doing it also. What did the girl have to do with a well and who the hell was Timmie and what did that have to do with anything? He did'na even ken anybody named Timmie. He shook his head again and returned his focus back to the bird. The bird 'cawed' yet again and flapped its wings. This time when it took flight, it flew directly to Jamie and landed a couple of feet away and 'cawed' at him yet again.
"Can you talk to it? Are you a bird whisperer? I ken you talk to horses," Roger asked smiling. Jamie had a well know gift with animals, especially horses. With the one exception of a small dog in France that Claire had told them about, Jamie seemed to get along with most of God's four legged creatures. No explanation was ever offered about "the wee mongrel" as Jamie had called it; just that it would not allow Jamie admittance into a hospital where Claire volunteered. This was the very first conversation he'd seen Jamie have with a bird but then Roger had never witnessed Jamie in the hen house gathering eggs.
Jamie did not move or speak. He just watched the raven. The bird hopped in place a couple of times and when Jamie did nothing, it flew off. Jamie watched it fly out of sight then picked a long blade of grass and started to chew on it.
"I've ken lots of birds in my time," he said. "But never ken one to act like that. Only white birds I've ever seen were some peacocks at Fontainebleau. Claire and I saw them when we were walking the gardens." He shook his head to clear an image of it and took a drink from the ale bottle that Roger passed him.
"Weel, best be get'n back to work. This field will not clear itself and Claire needs it for her wee herbs and greens. I promised I'd have it ready to plow next week and I do not intend to disappoint my wife." With that Jamie stood up and brushed the grass from the back of his kilt. He looked around for his shirt and put it back on. As his head popped up through the neck opening, he looked up and damned if the white bird was not back. This time it landed just at the edge of the shade and dropped something on the ground. It then flew back to the original stump; 'cawed' and flapped its wings.
"If I did not know better, I'd say that damn bird really is trying to tell you something," Roger said running his hand through his hair. He really did not want to go back to clearing these stumps. He'd much rather lay here in the shade, sharing ale and listen to his father-in-law talk to him about life. He found he really enjoyed this one on one time with Jamie. Jamie was well educated, easy to talk to and insightful. It had not always been like between them, but Roger, honestly had grown to like and respect the man. It was almost easy and natural now.
When he stopped rubbing his hands through his hair, he noticed that Jamie had walked to where the bird had been and picked up whatever the bird had dropped. It was some sort of stone. No, it wasn't a stone, it was a shell. A seashell. The seashell to be exact. The one Claire had found when she was pulling weeds in the small garden by the big house a week or so ago. Claire, always one to take advantage of a teaching moment had shown it to the kids and Jamie when they came back from fishing. She had tried to explain to them how the shell had probably come to be there, but the kids had all rolled their eyes at her and walked away, muttering about how Granny Claire was daft; no way the ocean could have made it all the way to Fraser's Ridge they had decided as a collective. Jamie had kissed Claire and told her to tell him; he wanted to ken all about it. He had listened and asked questions and flipped the shell over in his hand while she talked. When she was done, he had taken her by the hand and walked with her into the big house, setting the shell on one of the steps to the porch as they went in.
Why did this bird have it?
Jamie went rigid. He looked at the bird and then back to the shell and started to run. I mean really run, a high tail it, all out, sprint. As if something bad were chasing him. As if he was running for his life.
"Where are you going?" I shouted after him.
"Bird. House. Claire."
The bird took flight and followed after him, 'cawing'.
I started running after him. By the time I rounded the corner to the front of the house Jamie was already on his knees. Claire was lying on the ground. It did not look like she was moving. Her face was really pale, which for her meant totally void of any color what so ever, almost like a ghost. I quickly shouted for Bree. She would be inside our cabin next to the big house and then went to kneel beside Jamie. I could see Claire's eyes were open and she was trying to smile. She was not dead. I looked up and said a quick "Thank you."
"What is it Claire? What happened? Are you hurt?" Jamie started to feel her body gently with his hands, checking for injury. He did not find any blood and she did not cry out anywhere he touched her. He looked worried and confused.
She raised a hand and placed it on Jamie's cheek and he placed his hand over hers, raised it and pressed his lips to it. Close up her skin had a grey tinge to it. She was not talking which was so unlike Claire. She was struggling to breath; it was short and shallow. She was trying to lick her lips. Jamie turned to Roger and said "Can you get me a cup of water? I think Claire is thirsty.
As I stood to get the cup, I noticed the raven was back. This time sitting on one of the fence posts that surrounded Claire's garden. It was not 'cawing' or flapping its wings. Just watching Claire and Jamie. When I turned to go to the well to fetch the water, I saw Bree coming out the door of the cabin. She looked and me and smiled. She must have seen something in my face for her brow scrunched and she raised an eyebrow, the same way her father did when he silently asked a question. I turned and looked back at Jamie and Claire. Bree followed my line of site, gathered her skirts and ran to her parents, screaming for Mrs. Buggs as she did. Jamie had gathered Claire into his lap and was speaking to her in Gaelic. Smoothing her hair, whispering endearments.
I brought back a cup of water and handed it to Jamie. He raised the cup to Claire's lips but she refused to open to drink. She lifted her hand and pushed the cup away from her mouth and closed her eyes. She rolled her head into Jamie's shoulder. She looked like the effort to lift her hand had worn her out. She then attempted to wet her lips again. Jamie understood. He held the cup in one hand and placed his middle and index fingers in the cup and placed the drops of water on her lips, smoothing them on the lip's surface as he did. He repeated that until Claire opened her eyes and smiled at Jamie. He set the cup down beside him.
"Do you ken where you're hurt Claire?" he asked.
Claire lifted her hand and placed it on her chest, closed her eyes and swallowed.
Jamie stopped breathing. He understood what she was telling him. It was her heart. That's why she could not talk. Dougal had told him that his father never uttered a sound when he dropped to the ground when Jamie was flogged at Fort Williams.
"Mama," Bree cut in. "What do you need? What can I do? Do you need a tea of some kind?"
Mrs. Buggs had come out the front door and onto the porch. She stood silent with her eyes wide open and her hand covering her mouth in an attempt not to scream. "Get Mama a quilt Mrs. Buggs, please," Bree said to her and she immediately turned and when back into the house. She almost as quickly returned with the requested quilt and walked to the edge of the porch and waited for Bree to come get it. Bree collected the quilt, walked over and knelt in front of her father. He lifted Claire up allowing for Bree to open and spread the quilt on his lap. He then returned Claire to his lap. He told Bree to loosen the front of her mother's bodice and stays. "Your mother needs to be able to breathe," he stated. Bree's fingers flew through the laces, opening the bodice and then the stays. He marveled at the quickness and agility of his daughter's fingers; they were Claire's hands. Long beautiful fingers. He always made a mess out of her laces. He always ended up with knots and having to cut them. Claire would always be furious with him over that. It was not in him to smile over the memory, he was too worried about Claire. Between the two of them they managed to wrap Claire in the quilt and get her into a seated position on Jamie's lap, Claire's head and back supported by his arms.
Claire's head was resting on Jamie's shoulder. Her forehead rested against his neck. She tilted her head backwards so her lips were now near his ear.
"I love you Jamie. I always will." she sighed. "Take care of Bree and the kids. And Roger, he will be your right now that Murtagh is gone. "I do love you so my heart. Remember that."
"Claire? "No, no, no, no do'na talk like that Mo Nighean Donn." He said as he turned to look her in the face. "You can'na leave me and the bairns. It is not time. I just got you back." He raised his eyes to the heavens and spoke from his heart. "You can'na take her from me yet. She just found me. It can'na be her time. We need to grow verra old together. You have plenty of angels already. You can'na have mine. He kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes, "You are a Fraser. We Frasers are stubborn as rocks. Now be a rock and do not leave me Claire. You are my heart. I will die without you."
"Kiss me Jamie," she whispered. She closed her eyes and went limp.
He looked back up to the heavens and shouted, "NOOOOO!" He made the ground shake from the depth of the roar. "NOOOOOO!" he screamed again, like he was going into battle. He looked down at his wife in his arms and kissed her gently on the lips. "Please Claire, come back to me. Do'na leave me," he begged, tears running down his face. He struggled to his feet with Claire still in his arms. Her head fell back and he could see her long beautiful neck. Her arm dangled toward the ground, limp. He looked up again addressing his God, "Lord No. Please do not take her from me. Please, give her back. You made me for a purpose. You gave me a task. A mission. You sent me this rare woman, this healer, to help me because I could not do it alone. It is the two of us. Always. She is my heart and I am her heart's blood. You cannot separate us; one cannot live without the other. If my task is not complete, if my time here is not over then you must give her back to me. I cannot finish your work without her. She has always been what has kept me from turning into an animal; you know war will do that to a man. She has kept my humanity alive in me. She keeps me balanced and calm; she heals my anger and rage. Without her I would give in to the darkness. I would be black and metal like so many of the others that have faced what she and I have faced together. Her softness takes away my hardness. Please give me my wife back." He lowered his head, adjusted Claire in his arms and walked to the bench by her wee garden and sat down. He hugged her tightly to his chest. His shoulders began to shake and the sobs began.
Bree looked at Roger, tears welling in her eyes. She walked over to her Da and placed a hand on his shoulder. She did not even think he knew she was there. What could she say to help with this depth of pain? How would he survive the loss of his soul mate? Bree remembered her Da telling her about the Canadian Geese that mate for life. He said that if she ever shot one that she must wait for the mate to return and kill it as well or they would wander through life in sadness, looking for their lost mate. He had been through so much in the 20 years they were separated. What would he do if she were gone now; what would Da do without Mama?
What would she do without her mother? Tears fell from her eyes onto her father's shoulder.
Bree looked up at the noise. That damn white bird was flapping its wings and screeching. When she turned to follow the bird's line of sight she jumped back in fright, knocking into the fence that surrounded the garden and raised both hands to her mouth. Roger, who had been watch his wife and father-in-law with great concern ran to his wife and put both arms around her and hugged her to his chest. "It's alright hen, I'm here. Cry on my shoulder if you need to. I'm here." Bree pushed herself loose of Roger's comforting embrace and turned back around. She took Roger's hand and stepped back toward her father. She was right beside Jamie now.
"Daddy" Bree said and placed her hand gently on Jamie's shoulder. "Why are you here?" Jamie looked up and saw that Bree was looking straight ahead out into the yard in front of the house. He knew she was not talking to him. She had always called him 'Da'. He followed her line of sight … all the way to the barn. No one was there. Who did she see? Who was she talking to? "Daddy" was Frank to Bree. Was she talking to Frank?
"Daddy, you have to stop. Mama is not ready to go yet. You cannot just come and take her away from us. James Fraser is a good man and Mama loves him very much. You know that. More than very much, they are each other's heart and soul. You cannot be angry at them for that. They did not ask to be each other's destiny but that is what they are. Da did the right thing. When he knew he was going to die in the battle at Culloden, mama begged him to let her die with him, and me with her. Da made her go back through the stones. He sent us back to you. He knew you were honorable and would love us and take care of us. And you did. He hated you to the bone but he did what was best for Mama and me.
I think you always knew I'd come through the stones to meet James Fraser if I could, didn't you? I can ride a horse because of you. I can shoot a gun because you cared enough to teach me, to prepare me for my travel into the past. I will always love you for that. I had 18 years of pure love from you. I had a wonderful family life. My Randall family with a loving Daddy who gave me the world. But you are gone now. And I miss you every day. Now I have my other family, My Fraser Family. It is new, the knowing has just begun. I need Mama here with me for this adventure too. You must give her back. You owe that to me. You owe that to Jamie. You owe that to Mama. Let her go. Return her to us. Please Daddy. For me.
What was Bree saying? Still talking to Frank. Jamie looked up and still not seeing anything, spoke to the air. "Frank," his voice cracked. He cleared it and tried again. "Frank," he said again, with a much stronger voice and with authority. "I want to thank ya. For all ya did for Claire and Brianna. I knew you would na let harm come to them. You and Claire have raised Bree into a beautiful and intelligent lass and I no ken how I could ever begin to thank ya. For 18 years you have had them. Do not begrudge me my time with them. Claire is my wife. She chose me. I gave her a choice and she stayed with me. I made her go back when all was lost at Culloden, but I survived and she found me and she came back; back through the stones, back to me. Do not allow your anger and pride to take her from me. She is happy with me and I with her. We are one again. I love her heart and soul. I will see that no harm ever comes to her or my Brianna. Let us be a family Frank. Let her come back to me as I sent her back to you. Give me back my wife, please.
Jamie's head shot back. Did he just feel Claire move? He had been hugging her to his chest; he now released her slightly so that he could look at her. Her head did not roll limply back. He looked hard. Yes, her eyelids fluttered, and then opened. Her mouth opened and she took a small gasp of air. Her eyes locked on his. "Claire" he said in a quiet whisper and gently lowered his lips to hers. She kissed him back. She's kissing me back his mind repeated to himself; she kissed him back. He clutched her to his chest again. Kissing her hair, her neck, her shoulder. Whatever he could find that belonged to her. She lifted her arm and wrapped it weakly around his neck. She whispered in his ear "I need you my love. I need you now. Please take me to bed."
"To bed or to sleep?" Jamie whispered back. He could feel her smile in his neck as she kissed him softly.
Jamie stood up, with his wife in his arms and turned to Bree and said "Come give you Mama a kiss. She has had quite a day and needs her bed." To Mrs. Buggs he said " 'tis an early day for you. Go home to your husband. Claire and I will see to the house." To Roger, well, there were no words, he just nodded and his son-in-law just nodded back and placed a gentle kiss on top of the kiss Bree had given Claire. As he turned toward the house, Fergus stepped forward, kissed Claire on the top of her head and whispered "Milady" and Ian, with tears in his eyes, kissed me on the cheek. As I walked up the steps to the porch and carried my Sorcha across the threshold, I whispered "Thank you God. Thank you Frank." Truly.