Je Suis Prest – The Lost Lamb
The bus stopped at the center of town. Claire could tell because there was a statue. All village squares had some sort of statue she reminded herself. It was part of what made them so quaint. This one was not the normal Some Famous Person on a Horse Waving a Sword statue however. No, this one was a bit unusual; it had two young boys on a horse being led by a man. The smaller boy was in front and had a handful of the horse's mane. The taller boy looked like he was holding the younger one, preventing him from falling off. Both boys were laughing. The man, Claire assumed to be the father, was looking at the boys with unquestionable pride on his face. All three were in traditional highlander dress and their long hair tied back in a queue. The statue was on a stone base, centered on a small patch of grass. There were four, very ornate, iron benches surround it. Very nicely done she thought. Taking in the sight made her smile.
The bus depot was basically a pole with a sign that read BUS on it. Across the street from the square there were shoppes: a real estate agency, a chemist, a grocer and a printer to name a few. Claire knew this center square would be the heartbeat of the small village. It would be the town's hub; a place where locals could gather during the day to meet and exchange news and gossip. There would most likely be an open market held here, perhaps one Saturday a month, with stalls of full of fresh produce, homemade goods, pots and pans, a smithy to sharpen knives, scissors and axes and more local gossip and news. She'd have to remember to ask Jamie if he knew if there was one this weekend. They should plan to attend while she was here if so. It would be a great way for them to introduce themselves to Broch Mordha; become acclimated to the the town and for the town to get to know the new caretakers at Lallybroch. They could begin to forge friendships, meet the shopkeepers, make contacts, become part of the community, all so important in a town of this size where everyone knew everyone and their business. This would be vital if they were going to stay and try to make a go of the farm and do business here. Her men needed to build a new life, to find usefulness now that they would be staying. She needed Jamie to want to stay because he had found a purpose here, not because his hand had been forced. Her heart skipped a beat as she allowed that thought to sink in. Jamie staying. And Murtagh. Her heart swelled at the thought of the three of them making a life here together. John Murray certainly could not have recognized the precious gift he had given to her or to them. Having Lallybroch for Jamie and Murtagh to look after while John was in hospital was, most definitely, a well-timed blessing. Hopefully, John would choose to keep them on permanently when he returned home. Who knew, maybe they could live on the farm though perhaps not in the main house... Would Jamie find that acceptable, she wondered? Could he live here as a tenant rather than the Laird and be happy? She acknowledged that Jamie and Murtagh would be helping John, but this opportunity of allowing Lallybroch to be their sanctuary, falling into their very lap, was almost too good to be true.
Jamie had never complained about his days in Inverness or the smallness of the flat she lived in, but having seen Lallybroch for herself, life here back in the home his father so lovingly built for his family and the small village he grew up near, Claire could not help but think that might help both men cope with their losses. Both Lallybroch and Broch Mordha were different from what Jamie and Murtagh would be familiar with, both with their more modern ways, but certainly each provided a familiarity, a comfort. The routine of the farm would hopefully offer them a slower, more relaxed pace and a sense of peace perhaps, if nothing more.
It was most definitely a sleepy town, a quiet village. Everyone probably knew everyone business; no privacy in a village of this size. Nestled in these hills. Could she live here, Claire wondered? Live with the smallness and quiet a small farming community would bestow. Could Lallybroch be a home for she and Jamie? Perhaps. Perhaps this was the place for them to raise the children they would have. She glanced back up at the statue and sighed as she rested her palm on her belly, still flat, no outward sign of the child she knew that grew within her. She would not show for months yet, she knew. She could and would give up her job at the hospital for the sake of Jamie and the children she would bare him. Where ever he was would be her home now. She knew that when her pregnancy began to show, the hospital would be forced to release her from their employ. Pregnant women were not allowed to work in hospitals or schools for that matter. A stupid law, she knew, but one she could not change. She needed to think. She could not just stand around Lallybroch and do nothing while Jamie and Murtagh worked hard to make something of the farm. John had mentioned to her that if everyone was in accord, he would like Jamie and Murtagh to take over the daily running of the farm. He was too old to do much more than keep the books and maybe select stock. She would need to find a way to contribute as well. She would never be satisfied being simply relegated to the house... making meals, washing and mending clothes and, of course, raising children even though Jamie, and Murtagh, might expect her to. Somehow she would need to find some sort of work, for herself. She would need a plan...
Broch Mordha had a lovely tree lined street that had not let time change it too drastically. The street still maintained it's cobblestones, quaint shoppes and homes, bordering both sides of the road. No chain stores or high rises here. She even noticed thatched roofs on some of the cottages just outside the village. The bus had passed more bicycles than cars along the narrow, winding road into town. It was now dusk. The street lights were not yet on but the windows of the homes were lit. Work had drawn to an end and the day was winding down. This was the time that families gathered, spent time together, congregating in the kitchen to help prepare supper and relish in each others company. Children talked of their day, school and sport matches, over the meal at the family table, trying to catch up on the time lost while they were apart. Families laughed and parents helped children with their homework afterwards. Perhaps they would all listen to the radio or watch the telly, read a book together out loud or discuss the news from the paper before going to bed. Each new dawn would bring another day full of adventures to be shared as a family.
Claire had longed for that life for as long as she could remember. Early readers like Dick and Jane had taught her to desire such a life. She was especially jealous when her fellow nurses told stories of their personal childhood experiences and their families. She did not have it as a child, her parents both dying when she was so young. And Lamb, dear sweet Uncle Lamb had never lived in one place long enough for her to be immersed in that kind of environment or routine. She had promised herself that she would change all that. She would raise her children in a traditional family environment. She had a chance now, as she gently rubbed her belly. She had Jamie and the baby. She just needed to pluck up the courage and tell him. Why did she hesitate? She just knew he would be thrilled, that he would want to start a family... although... just maybe just not right now she thought. She allowed herself to doubt, releasing her mind, letting it introduce confusion and wander to negative thoughts. She blinked quickly several times in an attempt to stay off the tears she felt coming. Jamie had so much on his plate, right now, adapting to this time and the newly discovered Lallybroch. He had talked of marriage and they were hand-fasted, she reminded herself, glancing at her ring less finger. She did not need to add to his many burdens right now. She quickly wiped away a tear that had managed to escape. Jamie was a man of convection. Moral and honest. He was kind, caring and he loved her, of that she had no doubt. She would be patient and wait. When he was ready, he would contact the priest. It was still too early to confirm the pregnancy anyway. She had to have missed her cycle twice for the hospital to even run the test needed to confirm what she already knew in her heart. She would not tell Jamie until she was certain. Christmas would be too soon, she would have to wait for the New Year. Surely she would know by then.
Claire collected her travel bag from the driver as he pulled it out from the luggage compartment of the bus. She noticed there was absolutely no one on the streets. Not a single cars had driven past. Except for the motor of the bus, there was almost no noise. Until this moment she had not realized just how loud Inverness was. She found the quiet quite appealing, much more to her liking. Almost soothing.
"Do you know where I can find The Lost Lamb?" She asked the driver as she looked around the square.
"Aye Lass. Straight up the wee rise and at the top turn left. Ye'll see the Tavern's sign. They dinna rent rooms for the night though, if that's what ye'll be need'n. If ye're looking for a place te lay yer heid for the night, ye'll be want'n Mrs. Stewart's just up the road on the right. She'll give ye a bed for the night, some supper and a good hearty breakfast in the morn'n. A man likes a lass with some meat on her, ye ken, somethi'n te hang on to." He winked and bent to reach for another bag. "Tell her Thomas sent ye and she might give ye a wee dram before ye go to bed."
Up the wee rise it was then, though by the time she got to the top, she was huffing and puffing. "Wee my bloody ass" Claire cursed out loud. "It's a fucking hill, and a steep one at that." She paused at the corner and set her small bag down. Which way had the driver said? Was it Left or Right at the top? Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, she should have paid attention. She stood in the middle of the street and looked both ways. Thomas had said she would be able to see the sign… She saw several signs, in both directions, but no Lost Lamb and it was getting darker by the minute. Damn you Jamie. Why did you not just met the bus? Because, she reminded herself, you told him to wait at the tavern, stay inside and keep warm. The bus might be late and she could certainly walk a couple of blocks and find him. No worries. There was a flash of light, making her jump with fright; the street lights had suddenly turned on, startling her. Well, at least now she could see.
Alright, Claire said and started to problem solve. She needed to find the Tavern. When she turned to the left, and with the aid of the street lights, she saw signs hanging over the sidewalk on both sides of the street. As she made her way past some very lovely shoppes, she found herself smiling at the wooden signs that hung in front of the shop doors. There was The Woolly Sheep, a yarn shoppe who's sign was a very fluffy sheep sitting in a rocking chair knitting what looked to be a sock. The sheep was even wearing glasses, of all things. Mistress Gillie's, which looked to be an herb and tea shoppe, had a sign with a lovely, ornate teapot. There was The Bookworm, a used book store, whose sign was a lovely red apple with a bright green worm wearing a hat and a bow tie poking out of it. There was a sign with a mop, a broom, a bucket and a hammer that turned out to be a hardware store. Their window was overflowing with examples of their wares. There was the sign with a pin cushion and measuring tape. Yes, the tailor's shoppe, complete with a dress makers dummy in the window. As for the tavern, Claire was beginning to think the name was pretty apropos. The LostLamb indeed. The owner must have a wicked sense of humor. No site of the sign she was looking for.
After two more blocks, thinking she should have, in fact, turned right rather than left, she paused to take one last look before she turned around to go back the way she came. The road took a dip and a slight turn and there, quietly standing, while tied to a bench, were two horses. And above them, hanging above the door, was the very sign she had been looking for. It displayed a large green bush, with red berries and just the back end of a black sheep peeking out from behind it. A very wicked sense of humor.
She stopped, straightened her coat and smoothed her hair. It had been seven days since she, and Frank, left Lallybroch early that rainy morning. She had traded shifts and worked two extra days so she now had 4 glorious days and nights with Jamie. Frank would drive up in three days to spend the last night with them and drive her back to Inverness. He was to give Jamie and Murtagh driving lessons. She smiled as she imaged Jamie and Murtagh behind the wheel of the farm's truck. Images danced in her head, making her smile. John Murray had said Jamie would need his truck to put in enough hay and feed for the winter. She had a list of contacts for Jamie from John as well - the people John had done business with for years and about the prices that had been agreed upon. Claire saw John before she left her shift today. He was doing much better but not out of the wood yet. The doctors still wanted him in hospital. She had to agree; his pallor had a bit of a grey tinge to it and she did not like it, not one little bit. John was most definitely unwell. He had given her a check for Jamie to cover cost of the supplies though Claire thought Jamie's pride would prevent him from cashing it.
As she approached the tavern, she sighed. Clearly they had remembered the arrangement they had made before she left for who else but Jamie and Murtagh would ride horses to a bar and leave them tied up outside. She smiled knowing she would find both men inside. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing Jamie again. She reached into her purse and removed the sliced apple from a bag. She had brought it as a snack for the bus ride but never ate it. She fed it to the horses though the one with the white blaze was a bit of a pig and nudged her for more. Jamie must be content to be back at Lallybroch she thought as she rubbed the horse's nose. To be back among animals and working outdoors. She turned and entered the tavern.
She walked through the door and into an under lit, very large, single room with a beautiful, dark wood bar running the length of the far wall. There were booths running down the wall nearest her, directly opposite the bar with several tables and chairs scattered in between. It smelled of smoke, sweat and stale air. The smoke was too heavy for just cigarettes. There was either a fireplace that she could not see or the bar had caught on fire. She removed her gloves and tucked them into her coat pocket then proceeded to unbuttoned the front of it as she looked around. There was a crowd of people standing at the back of the tavern, engrossed in conversation. She located neither Jamie or Murtagh there so she scanned the various tables and booths. Still no Fraser Men. She then turned her attention to the bar. There were several men seated there and everyone of them stopped talking and turned to watch her approach. She was the only female in the tavern, that she could see. Typical. She knew they would not serve her unless she sat at a table and was accompanied by a man. She harrumphed in disgust as she removed the scarf from her neck and stuffed it in her coat pocket as well as she walked. Jamie was usually very easy to spot – 6' 3" and a mop of curly auburn hair made him stand out in a crowd. But this crowd was all men, almost all of whom looked to be over 6 feet tall, and she'd bet more than half were red heads. Jamie had certainly found his people she thought and giggled quietly to herself.
Claire's gaze fell upon what she assumed was the barkeeper. Behind the bar stood an tall man with dark hair, pleasant eyes and a very friendly smile. He had on a white dress shirt, open at the neck and a tie loosely knotted around his neck. The tie was a plaid of some kind, not unlike the tartan Jamie and Mutagen wore, only the colors were different. Not a Fraser then, she said to herself. When their eyes met he raised an eyebrow as if in an unasked question. So raising an eyebrow was not indicative of just Jamie and Murtagh; it seemed to be the recognized Scottish sign for What? Can I Help You? or simply a Question Mark. She giggled again.
"You're a bonnie lass with yer curls and amber eyes. Single are ye then?" as he nodded toward her hand. "I see yer no wear'n a wedding ring." His dark eyes full of merriment as he spoke to her. "Can I help ye?"
"I'm looking for James or Murtagh Fraser" she stated and tried not to blush, but to no avail as she felt the heat come to her face. When she reached the bar, she continued "I am to meet them here tonight." She set her bag down on the empty stool next to her and laid a hand on the top of the bar. "I believe their horses are out front."
"James ye say? Ye be look'n for Jamie Fraser, then maybe? Ye must be Claire" he said, rolling the R the same way Jamie did. He took his sweet time looking her over as she removed her coat. He produced a low, soft whistle that made her blush deepen. She had not been whistled at like that in a long time. "He said to keep an eye out for ye. Himself said Sassenach and falt ruadh ruach (English and curly brown hair) but he failed to say bòidheach (beautiful). If you ever get tired of aulde Jamie, you come find me lass" and he winked at her.
"Aye, Michael, keep flirting with the lass. I'll wager ye wife will box ye ears before Jamie can get te ye" the man sitting on the stool next to me said. "Glenna seven months pregnant with yer third wee 'un too." The comment had several men at the bar bark out in laughter. The barkeeper had the good sense to blush. He was a bit redder in the face than she was, she'd bet.
Michel straightened his shoulders, raised his head and shouted "JAMES FRASER!" toward the back of the bar then returned his attention to Claire. "My name's Michael, by the way. Michael McMahon." And he set down the glass he was drying, put his hand out and motioned for her to have a seat on the empty stool.
He pushed a glass of water across the bar to her. Claire supposed it was his way of telling her she was not going to be served any alcohol at the bar, then Michael started to inquire "What kind of work..." when a very pregnant woman appeared out of thin air. She slipped under his arm and pressed as tightly against him as a very pregnant woman could get. Both her arms ensnared his waist in an extremely obvious show of possession. "And this would be my lovely bride, Glenna" Michael stated and rolled his eyes a bit. The very young woman, was making it clear to Claire that Michael was her husband and Claire got the feeling Michael was not too pleased about it. The wife, Glenna, had long, stringy brown hair, very uninteresting brown eyes, a plain face with thin lips pinched into a flat line. Not even a hint of a smile on her face as she glared at Claire. Perhaps her husband was a philanderer, Claire thought to herself. He certainly acted like one.
"This is Claire, hen. Jamie's Lass. No worries, aye?" and he kissed the top of her head.
Glenna almost immediately released her husband from her all-encompassing embrace and smiled at Claire. "Pleased te meet ye" and held out her hand, in friendship, for Claire to take. "Jamie is quite the catch" Glenna added with dreamy eyes. "Several of the local lasses have their eye on him, mind ye. Good thing he does'na give them the time of day. He does noth'n but speak of ye to us. Even his Gàidhlig lessons are all about yoo."
Claire exhaled with a woosh of relief. She took the woman's hand in a light grip and said "Hello. It's very nice to meet you. When is the baby..."
Glenna's eyes widened as she said "Yer English then?" and dropped Claire's hand. There was an obvious note of shock in her voice.
"Well yes," Claire replied as she watch Michael. She abruptly shifted her focus and followed Michael's gaze when he motioned with his chin to the group at the back of the tavern. She could see the crowd shifting, creating space. Suddenly Jamie's head popped up above all the others in the group and Claire froze. He looked first at Michael and then, almost immediately, his gaze shifted and fell on her. Claire suddenly realized she had been holding her breath until their eyes met and she sighed, audibly. His face went from a furrowed brow to a smile that spread from ear to ear.
He pushed past several people standing in his direct path to her and dodged a chair or two. She was shaking like a new born foal as he approached her with a ground eating stride, only stopping when they stood toe to toe. "God, ye look so bonnie Sassenach. I missed ye." He almost growled at her. He bent, placed both hands on the back of her upper thighs and lifted her into his chest, never breaking eye contact. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He slipped one large hand under her arse to hold her in place and picked up her bag and coat with the other.
Jamie turned and crossed the room with Claire in his arms, her face buried in his neck, inhaling the wondrous scent that made up Jamie. She took in the smells of leather, hay and horses deep into her lungs and held her breath for a moment. She gently nibbled his ear, making Jamie growl. Neither spoke. Using his foot, Jamie moved a chair and sat down bringing Claire to rest in his lap, their foreheads finding each other, even with their eyes closed. No words were necessary as they just adsorbed each others essence. Just needing to breathe the same air for a moment; to quiet their separate racing heartbeats into one, calm beat. His open hand moved up and down her spine in rhythm with their united heart; first rapidly and frantic evolving finally into slow, calm, rhythmic strokes. He took her travel bag and dropped it to the floor next to the chair beside them.
"Take yer sweater off, Mo Neighan Donn. I need to feel ye. I can'na through this wool."
In one swift movement, with Jamie's help, it was off, laying on the table and they were softly, gently, repeatedly kissing; his hands gliding up and down her back of her thin blouse and her fingers combing the curls at the nap of his neck. Touching. Reconnecting. While taking a much needed breath, their foreheads unmoved against each other, Claire spoke first. "Tell me everything" she demanded. "Everything you've done since I left. Tell me about Lallybroch. Tell me about you." And she started kissing his neck again.
"Shhuush, my Sassenach. Just be. Let me just hold you, touch you, ken you are really here. There will be time to speak later… Ye smell so nice…" and he kissed her softly again. Just the two of them. That was all that mattered.
Somewhere nearby Claire heard Murtagh clear his throat. Several times. Her mind told her to acknowledge him so she raised a hand and wiggled some fingers; a sorry attempt at a wordless hello. She could not stop kissing Jamie long enough to give Murtagh more at the moment.
"Jamie, lad. Ye ken yer in a room full of people. Watch'n, aye?" Murtagh grumbled and shook his arm. Jamie pulled his face from where it was happily buried in Claire's hair, and with glazed eyes, looked up at him and tried to focus.
"Ye two going to sit there like a couple of love birds all night or do I get to welcome the lass as well? Murtagh said with a stern look for the both of them. "Do'na make me enforce my chaperoning duties. Now behave." He stood there glaring at them with his arms folded across his chest. "I think the rest of the bar would like an introduction, Jamie. Where are ye manners? They've heard ye babble like loon about her for a week now and they'd like have a chance te say How do ye do." Murtagh cuffed Jamie softly on the back of the head. "I ken ye've missed each other but ye need to remember where ye are, aye? We are no home, need I remind the two of ye."
Jamie kissed Claire one last time on the forehead and allowed Claire to ease off his lap. Jamie, without releasing her hand, stood and turned to face the bar. The entire bar was quiet. Everyone was looking at them.
"Is e seo a h-uile duine Sorcha, tha mi an dùil" Jamie happily told the bar. Everyone this is Claire, my intended.
A cheer went up and people started coming forward, crowding around, everyone wanting to say their hellos. Claire quickly hugged Murtagh and whispered "I missed you" in his ear before turning to greet the newly formed aquaintences.
There was Tomas Macvey, owned a small dairy farm nearby and Rabbie his younger brother. Tomas was married to one of the local school teachers. She was home grading papers. Rabbie still lived at home with their ma and da.
There was Connor and his son, Duncan MacLeod. They were the town's blacksmith and Farrier with a shop just outside town & Henry their lovely, well mannered Border Collie.
Colin and Hip (Hippolyte) Hastie. They owned The Green Grocer on the town square. Hippolyte was newly married with a baby on the way and Colin had a steady girl, Amy Pond. She helped at the store.
Apparently this was Jamie's first Wednesday Night Gàidhlig lesson. The day Claire had left with Frank, Jamie and Murtagh had ridden into town to pick up some supplies and discovered The Lost Lamb. They had both agreed that an ale would quench their thirst nicely before heading back to Lallybroch. Several of the patrons overheard Jamie and Murtagh conversing in Gàidhlig and had shown an interest. One thing led to another... inquires made, introductions exchanged and conversations began. One pint turned into several more, then whiskey was added to the libations. My men ended up giving an impromptu lesson right then and there and had agreed to make it a regular thing and Wednesday Night was agreed upon. Tonight's turnout was impressive. More than a dozen locals had shown up and then several more that just happened to be at the tavern pulled up a chair, eager to learn as well.
Claire should have known not to worry about them. Jamie was a born diplomat and could sell ice to Scandinavians in winter. He'd have the entire town befriended by Christmas, Claire was sure. And Mutagen would never leave his godson's side. Two peas in a pod, they were.
"Is that it for our lessons tonight then Jamie" a very feminine voice cooed and pulled Claire from her thoughts. Claire looked as a very young woman, probably not even twenty years of age, with long, honey blonde hair down to her waist and the greenest eyes Claire had ever seen, worked her way to the front of the crowd. This child looked straight at Jamie and whined "I thought you promised I'd learn to count from one to ten in Gaelic by the end of class tonight? I've only managed àireamhan aon a-mach à sia." (numbers one through six). Her lips ended in a pout with the completion of the sentence. She had the unmitigated audacity to then bat her eyelashes at him.
If that was not bad , Claire noted, the brazen hussy then had the nerve to raise her hand and gently tuck a loose curl behind Jamie's ear, her fingers stroked his cheek as she lowered her hand. "You promised Jamie" she whimpered with that stupid pout still stuck on her face.
Claire sucked in her breath and Jamie squeezed her shoulder. Was the hussy blind? Could she not see that she was standing right next to Jamie and that he had his arm around her? Claire wanted to slap the pout right off the girl's face but clenched her hands into fists instead. As Claire looked the trollop over, she found Little Miss Incurable Flirt had on a very thin, very tight, red sweater. Claire would bet it was two sizes too small. It came complete with an extremely low cut, v-neck that, if nothing else, accentuated her ample bosom. Probably stuffed with tissue paper Claire whispered quietly to herself. Her breast were just a jiggle away from falling out of her top. If she leaned over, Claire was quite sure they would. The tavern was bloody cold too. Any sane person, with an ounce of common sense, would be in a thermal shirt and baggy sweater or a flannel over shirt. Where was this child's parents, she wanted to know? Or her boyfriend? Was she even old enough to be in the bar?
Jamie grabbed her wrist so quickly Claire hardly saw the movement. "Mortag, I have spoken ta ye about keep'n yer hands to yerself". He squeezed it gently and then released it, allowing her to let it drop by her side. He immediately followed with "Let me introduce ye to my lady, Claire" as he pulled me tightly to his side. "As I have told ye before. I am spoken for. Claire and I are hand-fasted and to be properly wedded soon. Ye need to get that through yer heid, Mortag. I am no interested in ye that way. And the proper pronunciation is Gàidhlig no Gaelic, ye ken?"
Mortag, not the least bit embarrassed by Jamie's reprimand, turned her gaze to me. She made no effort to disguise her disdain as she took me in with one obnoxiously sweeping glance that started at my face and ended at my feet. She gave me a crooked smile that was pure, unadulterated hatred. The look almost made me shutter. Jamie pulled me even closer and said aloud to everyone "That's enough for tonight. I need to get Claire home and to bed..."
Several men at the bar whistled and clapped. Claire did not care, though she did blush a bit. She looked up to see Jamie looking down at her. He kissed her softly and then released her. He handed her the sweater and once it was on, he helped her on with her coat. Murtagh grabbed Claire's bag and when they reached the door, Jamie turned to Tomas Macvey and said, "See you and Evelyn tomorrow night, aye? 5 o'clock. Ye as well Rabbie." And they left.
Once outside, Claire hugged Murtagh properly and whispered "I missed you very much this week" and kissed his cheek. "My flat was terribly lonely with out you two." and she gave the beginnings of his beard a gentle tug. "You look nice with a beard Murtagh. Very handsome. You'll have the ladies fighting over you before long."
"I missed ye too, lass. You are a sight for these sore eyes. I've had noth'n but Jamie's sorry face to look at ever since ye left." He spoke loud and clear, making sure Jamie heard every word. "He's done noth'n but mope since ye left. Tonight's the first smile he's had on his face in a week." He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes smiling. He held me by the shoulders at arm's length and said "Jamie says you'll be stay'n through Sunday then?"
"Frank comes Saturday to give you and Jamie driving lessons, then we will both leave together Sunday night, after supper. I have to work Monday Morning." Claire told him, sadly. "Jamie promised you'd put me to work while I am here. I refuse to allow my time at Lallybroch to be a posh vacation for me. The dirtier I get, the better." She smiled and laughed.
"Be careful what ye wish for Sassenach. Barns have plenty of shite to shovel." Jamie added. "Come, let me help ye up on Raven here." Jamie checked the girth then easily lifted her onto the jet black horse. With a quick move he eased himself into the saddle behind her. He wrapped his arm around Claire's waist, pulled her tightly to him and covered them with his plaid. She leaned back into his chest, tucking her head under his chin as he turned Raven toward home. Before Claire realized it, Murtagh was beside them, her bag tied to the back of his saddle. Once they were outside Broch Mordha, and there was grass beside the paved road for the horses to travel on, Jamie urged Raven into a canter, and they were home in less than an hour.
Claire went inside to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil while Jamie and Murtagh took care of the horses. She walked to the living room and stoked the fire and threw another log on to burn. She found her bag in the hall by the door and scrounged through it until she found the bottle of whiskey she'd thought to bring and poured three generous glasses and set them on the table in front of the sofa. She puttered back to the kitchen and poured the boiling water into the tea pot and set it and three mugs on the tray she'd found in the pantry. She found some biscuits, plated them and carried the bounty into the living room. Jamie and Murtagh came in just as she set the tray down on the table next to the whiskeys.
She handed them each a glass of whiskey and raised her glass in a toast. "I have spent a lifetime searching for a place to call home. I have traveled, lived and worked all around the world and never found it... until now. To you my dearest Fraser Men. You are my home. Where ever you are. When ever you are. I can not live without either of you, for I would be nothing without you both."
"Slàinte" Murtagh said and raised his glass.
"Slàinte, Mo Chridle" Jamie said as he raised is glass to Claire. He placed his hand on his Godfather's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Mo theaghlach." my family.
They all drained their glasses. Murtagh reached for the bottle and started to refill them. Jamie popped a biscuit into his mouth as he waited.
"Lass" Murtagh began as he handed Claire the refilled glass. "I have a question te ask ye."
"Certainly Murtagh. Anything." She looked at Jamie, who shrugged his shoulders in response. He popped a second biscuit into his mouth. He had no idea what Murtagh was going to ask.
"At the tavern... Mortag... I ken she is no yer favorite person..."
"Um, that would be an understatement Murtagh. I do not care for her in the least."
"You whispered Probably stuffed with tissue paper under yer breath. I donna ken what that means." Murtagh looked at her intently. "I ken ye donna care for her, and while I do'na think ye wish her ill or harm, I am curious as to what ye meant..."
Claire turned red. She had been caught. Murtagh knew she had been unkind and was calling her out for being catty.
Jamie was watching Claire like a hawk... He had no idea what Claire said meant, but it was clear she was embarrassed about what she had said. His interest was certainly piqued.
"Well.." Claire began, trying to think how to explain. She held up her hand and said, "I think it will be easier to show you." She grabbed two of the cloth napkins she had brought in with the tray and turned her back to them. Claire giggled as she removed her sweater, opened her blouse and stuffed the two napkins into her bra... instantly enhancing her breast size. She re-buttoned her blouse and with a flourish she turned around and waved both hands in front of her bosomy new bust line.
Jamie and Murtagh both gasped. Both mouths hung open for the seconds it took to understand what Claire had done.
Jamie laughed out loud. The merriment clearly showing in his eyes.
Murtagh just continued to stare.
"Sassenach," Jamie stated as he approached her. "So I understand... What ye are accusing the wee bonnie lass of is 'padding herself' in order to entice a husband?"
"Well, I don't know if she does for a fact, I simply commented to it's possibility. No child is naturally stacked like that, Jamie. Really. She is un-naturally large for a... for her age, I mean."
Jamie continued to stroll toward Claire. "And just how old do ye think Mortag is then, Sassenach?"
Murtagh interrupted. "Ye mean to tell me that women stick napkins inside there stays to push their breests up? Ta make 'em look larger?" He looked at Claire still confused.
Claire nodded her head. "Only some though Murtagh. Not all ladies are that deceitful. And not necessarily napkins. I knew a girl that used wool, like sheep's wool. And another that used tissues. Honest Murtagh."
Murtagh's face hardly changed. He was absolutely shocked that a woman could be that deceitful. He never ken they would do something like that..
"And what about you, my wee vixen?" Are you about pretense? Are you full of foolery and deceit as well?" Jamie asked as he stealthily approached.
Claire laughed and waved a hand at him.
As he reached her and raised and raised an eyebrow...
"Oh, no. No. NO. NO! Jamie... I would never.." as she backed up into the wall.
Jamie laughed and kissed her. With his body protecting her from Murtaghs view, he unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse.
Claire was shocked. She put her hand up to cover her exposed chest and whispered "Murtagh" and moved her eyes and chin in his direction.
"Shhss." He said as opened her blouse enough to remove each napkin and handed them back to Claire. He re-buttoned her blouse and kissed her again. "You donna need any such lurid enhancements, Sassenach. I like ye just fine the way ye are." and he allowed his hand to brush her breast as he kissed the tip of her nose and turned to help poor, shocked Murtagh understand the evils of women.
Together they were Home.