Je Suis Prest – Memories Awakened, Answers Given
Claire stood in the doorway of John's hospital room and knocked lightly on the open door. John Murray turned with a scowl on his face. "Who are you?" he barked.
It took Claire by surprise. She had not expected that kind of a response from the man she had spent most of yesterday with – chatting, laughing, crying and trading stories. There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Of course, he does not recognize me. I am in my civvies, not my nurses uniform; she was still in her street clothes, wanting to introduce John to Jamie and Murtagh before she went to change for her shift.
With a slight hesitation, Claire took a step into his room. "It's me, John. Claire. Claire Beauchamp. Do you remember me from yesterday? Clan Fraser?" She did not need to glance behind her to know that standing just outside the door, standing in the hall, both Jamie and Murtagh had raised an eyebrow at Clan Fraser. She, or possibly John, would have some explaining to do later. She wondered if either of them would find humor in the irony of it all.
John's face softened with the memory and added a smile. Claire sighed and grinned back. She could see in his eyes that he remembered who she was; he just had not recognized her out of uniform. "I'm sorry to have confused you, John. I came in a bit early to see you and I have not changed clothes yet. I brought some friends to meet you. Do you remember the fella I told you about, the one that had left yesterday morning and I would never see again?" Claire paused to swallow as the words caught in her throat with the remembrance of just where her life was headed the last time she had stepped into this room, barely 24 hours ago. As she looked at John's face, Claire noted that he must not have had a restful night; he looked tired and there was a bit of a gray pallor to his skin.
John reached out to take hold of her hand as a sign of friendship and support. "I'm sorry lass. Forgive an aulde man and his failing eyesight" and he patted the hand he now held in his own. "How could I ever forget ye, my bonnie, brown haired lass."
A sudden movement behind Claire caused John's eyes to shot up and look past her. There was a fiercely tall, red headed, blue eyes man glaring at him as he walked into the room. In three steps, he was at Claire's side and possessively placed an arm around the lass's waist and pulled her tightly to him. Mine! the movement clearly declared. Right behind him was a 2nd shorter man with a face covered in a dark black beard and mustache, glaring at him as weel, through small, black, rat like eyes. Neither looked particularly friendly.
"Tha I mo neighan donn, eil agadsa" Jamie allowed the words to rumble out of his mouth with a hint of threat behind them. (She is my brown haired lass, not your).
John opened his mouth and then shut it again. His eyes jump from one face to another and finally resting back on the tall man with a fierce grip on Claire. Carefully he thought about what to say before he spoke. "Gàidhlig? Sibh a 'bruidhinn Gàidhlig? (Gaelic? You speak Gaelic?).
"Aye, Sinn a 'dèanamh" Murtagh replied as he walked up to the end of the bed. "Ged nach eil, na caileige. I chan eil facal Gàidhlig" and smiled like he had shared a joke. (Yes, we do, not the lass though. She does not have a word of Gaelic).
John returned the smile, sharing the joke. He turned and looked at the tall man again. He recognized the eyes immediately, from paintings that hung on the walls... "You must be Fraser. My lovely nurse, Claire, told me a wee bit about you yesterday. O ciod a thubhairt I an-dè, mi riamh cinnteach an dùil ri coinneachadh ribh. Dh'fhàg thu I" he said as he squeezed Claire's hand protectively, his eyes never breaking contact with the tall man's. (From what she said yesterday, I certainly never expected to meet you. You left her).
Jamie squared his shoulders and raised an eyebrow. This Murray was protective of Claire. The bed-ridden aulde man was challenging him, to explain his actions and prove his worthiness of her. His Sassenach had only met the man yesterday. Clearly his Claire had a way with men, he was quickly learning, though he did no think Claire was even aware of the effect she truly had on his gendre. There was Frank, always groveling at her feet. Then his verra own godfather spoke of marriage to Claire, to take her back through the stones with him, after having known her only a day. There was also something in the way Master Raymond watched his Sassenach, though he could not quite put a name to the expression the man wore on his face. If he had to guess, it was more of famille than amoureux. Now this Murray was protecting her as well. It irritated him but made him smile just the same. Claire had, after all, chosen him. 'S e sin eadar Sorcha agus I." Jamie said with inflection. "Mar faodaidh sibh gu soiller a 'faicinn, tha mi air ais." (That is between Claire and I. As you can plainly see, I am back. To stay).
Claire looked from John to Jamie. Even though both men had smiles plastered on their faces, their eyes were locked; they were staring each other down. Clearly she had missed something. Words had been spoken between them and in doing so they had gone from English slipping back into Gaelic. Why? She had thought is was simply easier for them, to speak in their native tongue, but she was beginning to realize the switch to Gaelic was to enable them speak privately while she remained in the room, oblivious to what was being said. Whatever was being discussed, they clearly did not wish her to understand it. She could only deduce they were talking about her. She looked to Murtagh and he was standing there, straight as a board, feet shoulder width apart, arms folded across his chest with a half smile across his face. The same smile Jamie had on his face. There was only one reason for men to express such body language; plain and simple, it was a peeing contest and she was whatever they were peeing on, or over, or for, she was not sure which was the correct term for it. They were bloody well trying to mark their territory, HER. Men and their fucking testosterone. She'd had enough of that during the war. She would put a stop to this shenanigans right here, right now.
Claire turned and the sudden movement allowed her to step out from Jamie's possessive hold. All three men turned their focus on her. Jamie noticed that her movement placed her closer to this Murray bodach. (Old man). He raised an eyebrow at Claire and nodded, to show her he noticed and that while she had removed herself from his touch, she was still holding the aulde man's hand tightly in hers. He folded his arms across his chest and harrumphed. This would not do.
Claire turned, patted John's hand and released it, honoring her husband's silent request. "Jamie is back to stay, John. He and I were handfast last night and will marry properly as soon as things can be arranged" and she stepped back toward Jamie.
John looked at Claire as she spoke, adsorbing her words as well noting her body language showing him who she chose. Looking directly at Jamie, he said "Handfast, aye? No a chleachdadh cumanta a-nis air a làithean. Dè thug ort smaoineachadh sin a dhèanamh?" (Not a common practice now a days. What made ye think to do that?) and he folded his arms across his chest and gave Jamie a bit of a glare in challenge.
Murtagh snorted in an attempt to contain a laugh. The aulde man was challenging Jamie. Murray had ballocks, almost as big as Jamie's Uncle Dougal. This was going to be interesting. First Jamie had to fend off Frank, that doctor at the hospital when they first found him and now this Murray fellow. The lass could sure bring it out in men. The handfasting would bide the lad some time, but he would need to marry her proper, and soon. Jamie would have to stay on his toes to keep the Sassenach in his bed, though she seemed eager enough for him now. "Tha daoine a thàladh gu Sassenach mar seilleanan ri flùr" Murtagh laughed and slapped Jamie on the shoulder. (Men are attracted to your Sassenach like bees to a flower).
Jamie smiled and nodded his head in reply.
John's head shot a look at Murtagh as he spoke. His brow furrowed in thought. He liked the furry, rat faced fellow. He had humor. He smiled and laughed. Hard and loud, though not long. The laughter began to hurt his chest and he started to cough and his breath became shallow and raspy. His eyes squeezed shut in pain. Claire immediately leaned over John, her hands flat on the bed on either side of him, her face less than a foot away.
"John. Listen to me, John." Claire spoke with forcefulness and calm. "Listen to my voice. Relax. Relax. Good" she said as she saw John's face ease a little. "Listen to my breath and breathe with me. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Good John. Again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. That's it. Again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Much, much better, John. Can you open your eyes and look at me? No. No, no, don't worry. Let's just focus on your breathing, shall we? Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Jamie, can you pour some water in a glass and hand it to me please." Claire said, not removing her eyes from John, and motioned to the table beside the bed. "Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Good."
Jamie walked over, poured a glass half full of water and handed it to Claire.
"Lets take a small sip of water, shall we?" Claire said as she placed the glass to John's lips. She tilted the glass just enough to just wet his lips then took it away. She counted to ten in her head and repeated the movement, this time giving him an infinitesimal sip of the water. She noted that having John concentrate on drinking the water has seemed to calm him. She waited for him to look up at her and then gave him another small swallow of the water. She took the glass away and sat back on the bed, her eyes never wandering from his face. With her other hand she moved a lock of hair from his forehead, running her fingers though his hair like a comb. Jamie shifted and then she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. She looked up into a pair of worried blue eyes. With the same fingers she used as a comb, she softly stroked Jamie's hand.
"Better John?" she asked softly. "Or do you want me to fetch the Doctor?"
"No, no lass. I'll be fine" John said and patted her knee. "Yer friends made me laugh too hard 'sall. I'll be fine in a minute." John turned and looked at Jamie. "My name is Murray. John Murray" and he removed his hand from Claire's knee and held it out to shake hands with Jamie.
"James Fraser. Jamie." Jamie said and shook John's extended hand with a firm grip. John might be Claire's patient, and possibly her friend, but the man still needed to realize that he was Claire's husband. "This is my godfather, Murtagh Fraser" and the two men nodded to each other in accord.
"Pleased to meet both of ye. I have Fraser in my family history as well, ye ken. From the Lovat line. Beauly. 18th century. A couple of them have blue cat eyes and flaming red hair like yers" John said looking directly at Jamie. "There are several Fraser portraits that still hang in my home" John stated and watched them for a reaction.
Jamie and Murtagh exchanged quick glances.
"Aye," Jamie began. My da comes from Lovat Frasers as well. Back to The Aulde Fox, Simon Fraser to be precise. Murtagh's fath.. relations was Simon Lovat's tackman. My father had the same unique shaped eyes though his were a brown in color. My mam was a MacKenzie, going back to Castle Leoch and it's Laird, and that's where the red hair comes from. Her eyes were gray though. Don't ken where the blue eyes come from."
"Both yer parents have passed then James. I'm sorry for yer loss. Ye seem awfully young to have lost both yer mam and yer da. I guess that's why ye keep yer godathair." John noted.
"Remember that I have lost both of mine as well John. By the time I was five, remember?" Claire interceded. "I brought my friends by to meet you for a reason. I told them about Lallybroch. I think Jamie and Murtagh might be in a position to help you. That is, if you would like, of course. Jamie and Murtagh are both very familiar with the running of a farm. Both grew up on family farms, you see. I know you need someone to look after yours while you are here in hospital, and then once you go back home, until you are fully recovered." She paused and took a breath.
"I have been on farms for most of my childhood, until I went to France to further my education" Jamie stated. "I have lived on an estate just like your Lallybroch" he added with a small half smile.
"My mother came from a family farm as well" Murtagh chimed in. "Her oldest brother took it on when her father died. She was a kitchen maid on an estate and as a lad I helped in the stables. That's where she met my da. Both Jamie and I are verra familiar with a farm's daily needs. We'd be happy to help ye out, while yer laid up that is."
John looked at them both. It was almost too good to be true. Claire seemed to trust them and if she did, that was good enough for him.
Claire had walked down to the end of the bed to have a look and John's chart. She did not like the slight blue tinge to his fingernails nor the chest pains when he laughed. "I have to get dressed for work, Jamie." Claire announced as she hung the chart back on the end of the bed. "Would you like Jamie and Murtagh to keep you company for awhile, John? I am sure they would be happy to stay until the Doctor stops by."
"That would be nice of the lads. I should get to know them a bit if they are going to be help'n out with Lallybroch. I would like to tell them about the farm, give them a key and directions to get there. Aye, if they have the time to spare an aulde man, that is" John stated.
"That would be fine, Sassenach. Maybe we could take mid-meal with ye when ye have yer break" Jamie said as he turned to her.
"Now John, I don't want them to tire you out. You do need to rest also. Just shoo them out. They know where the nurse's station is. They can find me when you want them to go." She smiled at John. "Let them look at that wonderful book you showed me. I think they will both find it very interesting."
Jamie walked with Claire the 4 steps to the door. He placed a quick, soft kiss on the end of her nose and then rested his forehead against hers. "I'll miss ye Sassenach. Come get us when ye are ready for yer noon meal, aye?" He squeezed both her hands and leaned against the door jamb to watch her walk away. He sighed as that bonnie arse of hers moved down the hall, her skirts gently swinging as she walked.
"Jamie" Murtagh began and he held up what could be a large book covered in leather. It looked to be the right size and shape of his parent's bible. The one his Uncle Alex had given them as a wedding gift. But he had only see it a handful of times. He would ken from what was written on the inside page... where his da had noted Willie's, his mam and his new brother Robert's deaths. Jenny most certainly have added their father's. He wondered if Jenny had added the births of Randall bastards. His Uncle Dougal had made sure to tell him about that.
"So" John began. "Who wants to tell me the truth about ye two?"
Both Jamie and Murtagh looked at each other then back to John.
John decided right then and there that he would never play poker with either of them. He'd loose his shirt for sure. "Look, I was'na born yesterday. I ken when two guys are not locals, but ye two are clearly not even from this century. The Gaidhlig is a dead give away. Maybe the rat faced..."
Jamie shot a look at Murtagh.
"...one, Murtagh is it, is aulde enough to have been taught some, but you, James Fraser. No. No one would have taught ye to speak it in this lifetime." John spoke with knowing.
Murtagh let out a small grunt and looked down at his hands that gripped the rail of the aulde man's bed. He ken this John spoke from facts, the truth. He and Jamie stood out, even in a crowd. Last night at the tavern was reminder enough. Except at the tavern the locals had rallied around Jamie. Treated him like the Laird he was made to be. The men at the tavern accepted them, embraced the differences, celebrated being Scottish. Jamie had commented that there were more plaids being worn, every time he went. Said the first time he and Claire had gone, there was nary a kilt, except the one he himself had worn. Last night, scanning the tavern there were at least a dozen. Several of the men had come over and talked to Jamie about beginning a class that would teach them to speak Gaidhlig, meet weekly to practice. Just maybe there was a reason they were here after all. Maybe they were sent here with a purpose. Murtagh looked up from his gaze and rested on Jamie's face. Jamie made a small nod. They would tell John. Everything. He took a deep breath.
John watched the two men. They had a closeness about them. More than father and son even. They had been though some tough events, had each others backs, he could see that clearly. Words were not needed between them. He could tell they had reached some sort of agreement. He needed to make sure it was the one he was looking for. He would start with a truth and see where that led the conversation.
"My name, if the bonnie Claire has not already told ye, is really Ian Murray. Ian Brian James Fraser Murray" and he stopped and looked at both men.
Jamie and Murtagh both just stared back. Jamie's mouth was open with surprise, Murtagh's was gaping. Good, John thought. Surprised the both of ye.
"You two want to close ye gobbs, grab a couple of chairs and sit down before ye faint like wee lassies, because I've only just started and it gets better." He grinned a Cheshire Cat smile at them.
Each took a seat on either side of the bed. Murtagh handed the leather bound book to him. It was his mam and da's Bible, for sure, as his hand stroked the cover, all be it several hundred years older than the last time he saw it. He dinna need to open it to ken it. He was not sure he wanted to read what was written; dinna want to ken the information nor dates the pages offered.
"So," John began afresh. "I am guessing I am named for your father Brian Fraser and for you, James Fraser. Can you confirm that?" he asked looking directly at Jamie when he posed the question.
Jamie glanced at Murtagh, then looking John right in the eye, nodded his head. Slightly. Once.
"Aye, I am James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, born on the 1st of May Seventeen Hundred and Twenty One. Born the second son to Brian Fraser and Ellen MacKenzie Fraser."
John placed a hand on the Bible and said, "well that solves that mystery. We never could ken why Lallybroch never stayed with Fraser but came into Murray care back in 1746, after Culloden. It also explains why there is no date of death written in that book by yer name, James. Yer sister Janet never gave up hope for yer return, I suppose."
"Last my sister Jenny knew I was taken away, in irons, from Lallybroch to Fort Williams by British Dragoons in 1740. I never wrote to her after I escaped. How did ye know?" Jamie asked. "How did ye ken it was me?"
"Claire. That beautiful woman of yours should never play poker. It was clear as day when she looked in that book yesterday" he chuckled. "She whispered your name as she ran her fingers over the page and shed a tear or two. There may be a bit of a smudge by your name now. So sorry lad."
"Aye, that's the truth of it." Murtagh laughed right along with John. "She'll never be able to lie to him and that's the truth."
They both watched as Jamie's face and ears turned red. Embarrassed but still proud of his Sassenach. He would'na have her any other way.
John took a sip of water from the glass Claire had left on the table beside his bed. "Now, I need to ken how ye came te be here." He watch both Jamie and Murtagh. Seeing they were not ready to speak about that yet John tried again, redirecting them. "I will tell ye a tale as to why I need to ken..."
John ended with "... they found the car parked close to Craigh na Dun, ye see. Nothing else was found. No the fishing poles or catch basket, jackets or lunch. Just the car and the picnic blanket. Gone like smoke on Auld Hallows Eve. No sign of what happened to them." He took a deep breath and wiped the single tear from his cheek and then sighed from reliving the loss. "It was my lad, ye see. My only child. And my da. I miss them like it was yesterday."
"If they went through the Stones at Craigh na Dunn like the fae stories I grew up hear'n, and I think they did, they would have tried for Lallybroch. I am sure of it" John began again. "I was sure if they made it, they would have left me a sign or a note or carved their names somewhere. I've torn the place apart look'n for a sign from them. To let me ken what happened. If they did, I never found it. My father's name was Ian Alastair Robert MacLeod Murray so I doubt he would have used his real name for obvious reasons. He would have been around 50 years of age." John spoke, trying to keep his voice steady as he he did. "My son's name is Ian William Robert MacKenzie Murray so I doubt my father would have allowed him to use his real name either. We always called him Angus because he did not like Willie. He thought Angus sounded so much more braw. Just a lad trying to be a man, I suppose. He was just 8 when they went miss'n."
"In the top inside pocket of my coat, is my billfold. If you would get it for me, please Murtagh. I have a photograph taken about the time they disappeared." John motioned with his hand to the coat draped over the back of Murtagh's chair.
With further directions, Murtagh retrieved the piece of folded leather and handed it to John. As he returned to his seat he glanced at Jamie, who was now the color of sheep's wool. He cleared his throat to get his godson's attention but Jamie's eye were riveted on John. John unfolded the bit of leather and removed a worn slip of paper from within the folds. He gave the paper the briefest of glances, like he had looked at it so many times he had it memorized, and handed it to Jamie. The lad held that small tattered piece of paper between his two huge paws like it was a new born cheetie and made a small gasping noise when he looked at it. You'd think he was staring at a note from his mam or da, from the look on his face. Whatever was on that paper, Jamie had recognized it and was shook by it. Murtagh extended his hand and motioned with his fingers for Jamie to give it to him. It was a wee flat painting, with no color to it at all, just black and white, of a man with his arm around a lad. Looking back with... Fraser eyes and wearing Fraser grins. "Are these them?" Murtagh looked up and asked in shock. He flipped the paper over. It was stark white on the back.
"Yes" was all of John's reply. He was too busy watching Jamie to utter more.
Jamie just nodded. He could not find the words...
John gasped. He suddenly ken Jamie recognized them. "You've seen them" he croaked.
"Aye," Jamie whispered, still in shock. "I ken the names. They did leave ye a message, though I would ha been surprised if ye'd ever found it. Stephen Taylor and his grandson Angus were the names they gave my da and mam, she was still alive as was Willie when they first came. Angus and Willie were best mates until Willie died. Angus took Willie's death as hard as I did, maybe harder" and Jamie signed heavily.
"That's when Angus started to take me fishing. I ken there was something off about those poles. The way they came apart and fit into that wee bag. Never saw anythin'n like 'em. Casting Rods Mister Taylor called them. And those pants they wore when they fish'd, stand'n in the middle of the burn. Made Willie and I laugh to see Angus in 'em. Waders, Angus called 'em..." and Jamie smiled at the thought.
"Stephen Taylor was my wife's father's name. It would have been an easy name for Angus to remember."
"You ken them then, Jamie? The man's missing father and son?" Murtagh voiced, motioning his head toward John. "They were at Lallybroch?"
"Aye, They were nice folk. Good Neighbors. Lived at Lallybroch, in one of the tenant cottages until Mister Taylor married." Jamie spoke to the memory rather than John. His eyes moving like he was reliving the time.
"Married? My da re-married?" John uttered in amazement.
"In Broch Mordha, aye." Jamie said shaking his head in disbelief. "They... Remember the Widow MacLeod, Murtagh? Stephen Taylor married her. She had 3 lads from her first husband, who died of the croup the winter before they came. Her oldest was Broch Mordha's smithy. Malcolm. Malcolm had a wife and 3 bairn; two lads and a lassie. Was teach'n his oldest, Duncan to follow in his footsteps but when Angus was aulde enough and showed an interest, he taught Angus the trade as well. Last I heard, he was sweet on Malcolm's daughter, though I do'na ken if he ever wed her." Jamie shook his head to clear the visions and looked up. "I don't ken much more than that. At 14, I went to live with my mam's folk and then went to France to University. Don't remember hearing much about them after that."
Jamie looked at John. The man had tears streaming down his face, wiping his dripping nose on his sleeve. When Jamie finally focused on him, John gave him a big smile. "Thank ye" was all John could manage.
Jamie stood up and walked out of the room and down to the nurses station. Claire was there. She looked up and smiled her bonnie smile at him. Her face scrunched into worry a heartbeat later and she immediately set down the papers in her hand and came to him. She gathered him into her embrace and he melted, right there, in front of her fellow nurses. As he cried, she pulled his head into the furrow of her neck, gently rocking their bodies and humming a tune he did'na ken; she was mending his broken heart and healing his saddened soul.
From the doorway of John's room Murtagh watched. Jamie had found his healer. The half piece of a broken lad was now, finally, a complete man. 'Twas like watch'n Ellen and Brian all over again. He nodded at Claire and walked back into the room. He and John needed to talk.