A/N
So, it seems Friday is going to be my regular upload date.
It's been such a very long, long, long time since I posted anything in LOTM (or read anything!) that it took me since finishing this in 2020 to gather my courage to publish it. Now I've started I will continue until it is all up.
I feel I missed so much in the community, it had a resurgence over the last few years it seems, and I'm sad I missed it.
I missed writing beloved characters, I missed the community, reading others takes, leaving reviews and discussing everyone's wonderful imaginative ideas! Life always gets in the way of the hobbies we love most :(
I see there are many new stories for me to catch up on. Recommendations on your own favs would be very welcome as I am unsure where to start.
Thank you (a big thank you!) to MohawkWoman for her review. I had convinced myself no one would care about this story and you proved that notion wrong and stopped me feeling like a Debbie Downer. It changed my whole outlook on returning and made me feel more at peace with this story being... whatever it is :D
I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it.
/
Sunlight streamed into the room, beckoning Erin out of sleep until she couldn't ignore its insistence that she open her eyes and face whatever was to come.
The hazy light was muted by what looked to be some kind of waxen covered paper where glass panes should have been. The fire had gone out at some point in the night and was now just a charred pile of ash. She shifted her position and took in her surroundings in full daylight. Nothing had changed, it still looked as it did when she had arrived, fit for a historical nut to have the time of their lives. The air in the cabin was still warm and dust particles danced lazily in and out of beams of sun rays.
Erin took a moment in the quiet stillness to access all that she knew, or thought she knew, trying to fit each piece of information together like a jigsaw puzzle, but nothing made any sense. Her hand gave a low throb, demanding her attention and she glanced down, bringing it into her lap. It was dry, with clean bandages still wrapped around it, and she at least felt some comfort in the knowledge that it hadn't bled again as she slept.
She heard movement and turned her head in time to see Alexandra emerging from the doorway of the other room. Erin made to greet her, but Alexandra quickly pressed a finger to her lips. "Children are still abed," she whispered, coming to sit on the stool by the hearth. She quickly set about cleaning the ashes away and placing fresh logs in their place.
"Did you sleep some?"
"A little." Erin tried to smile but she felt an unease floating somewhere in her stomach.
"I'm Alexandra. You know John, and he tells me your name is Erin?"
Erin nodded.
"How's your hand?"
"It's OK." Erin shrugged and saw Alexandra give her a puzzled look, stirring that unease even more. "I mean, it's fine." She offered up the other words and felt a small wave of relief when the other woman nodded in understanding. "It hurts, but it's better than last night." That unease was slowly sinking downwards, its descent making her feel like being sick all over again.
She couldn't sit here making small talk, she had to find the courage to ask the one question that would give her a true answer.
"So..." Erin began, and lost her nerve, "you live out here?" She inwardly cringed at herself.
Alexandra smiled in reply, "Going on five years now."
Erin made an unconvincing noise of what should have been agreement.
"It's a hard life, but a good one, and as my husband would no doubt be very fond of telling anyone willing to listen, it's also a free one."
"Free?" Erin looked baffled, "Like, you don't pay?"
This made Alexandra laugh, a sweet and musical sound that she quickly stifled, looking towards the bedroom. Once she was certain no one had awoken she continued. "No, not that kind of free," she said, shaking her head.
Erin felt a blush heat her cheeks and could only manage a sheepish "Oh."
"Don't be uneasy. I understand a fine lady like you, this way of life is hard for you to imagine."
"A... fine lady?" Erin stuttered.
"I can tell from your clothes."
Erin looked down at her pretty pink rose patterned skirts, the costume Ada had lent her, she'd said it was based upon a popular design for the middle upper class, so she supposed this was true, by her dress anyway. This whole conversation was cementing in her mind the foolish thought she'd dismissed only a while ago as a wild imagining.
Alexandra handed her a mug of what appeared to be fresh water and gestured for Erin to drink.
"You have children?" Erin's mind sung out the word 'coward' over and over again.
"I do, two. A boy and a girl. James and Lizzie. God give me strength." She chuckled, and Erin found herself smiling, it was so easy to talk to this woman, she was so warm, so comfortable.
"What of you? Family?"
Erin shook her head. "Not near. I just came this way with friends and... well, I..." Her brow creased with the effort of trying to find any words that could even begin to explain anything.
"Don't force it now." Alexandra laid a hand tenderly upon Erin's shoulder. "Let it be."
So Erin did, and instead she sipped quietly at her water as she watched the house being made ready. Food was prepared and something akin to coffee boiled. The family was soon fully awake, the children bustled and buzzed around Erin like she was a new plaything, asking her all manner of questions she had very few answers for. John was the last to emerge, scratching his head and yawning.
"Morning," he greeted, and Alexandra greeted him back with a quick kiss.
They all sat at the table while breakfast was served, bread and cheese and leftover stew, barely warmed up, but it was tasty and filling. After this John took the children outside to gather more firewood and check on the livestock. The sound of dogs barking filled the home a moment before the door was shut, muffling the noise.
Erin stared into the fire, inwardly scolding herself, just how long was she going to wait to find her own courage?
"Here." Alexandra was stood nearby, drawing her away from her musings. She held a bone comb and gestured to Erin's hair. "Let me help."
Erin hadn't really thought just what a fright she must look. Yesterday Ada had braided her hair into an elaborate bun, now it was nearly fully loose and lay in straggly waves about her shoulders.
She allowed herself to be led to one of the dining chairs and the older woman set about teasing the tangles and knots in Erin's hair, wincing every so often as one tugged painfully at her scalp.
"Your hair is so very red; I've never seen such red hair." Alexandra breathed in wonder at the very vibrant strands.
"Lots of people have this color now," Erin replied, offhandedly, still being half pulled back into her thoughts.
"Where? Where are you from?"
A little ball of panic flared in Erin's breast and her brain quickly flitted from one thought to another, trying to pull out an answer that wouldn't be questioned, where was the most likely place these people had barely heard of, never mind visited?
"RUSSIA!" Erin shouted the word, causing Alexandra to jump in surprise. "I'm Russian," she said demurely, as if the outburst had never happened.
"I see," Alexandra said, finding her own composure. "Well, I have to confess I don't know much about Russia."
Erin gave herself a mental fist pump in celebration.
"It's very far away?" She was braiding Erin's hair now with a thin linen tape, coiling it into a crown upon her head.
"Very, very far," Erin said, with subdued agreement.
"I never really learned about countries or history, only schooling for me was just about living and knowing basics. Though John knows more, he had more learning. But scholarly books are a little beyond us Camerons." She laughed with good humor, but Erin sat stock still, the name had sent a jolt through her like an electric shock, and a tremble ran through her fingers as her good hand spasmed and a whole new layer of dread curled around her.
"You can borrow one of my caps to cover your hair and... but my goodness Miss Erin, whatever is the matter? You look ashen."
Erin's fingers clutched at the other woman's arm, stilling her from fussing further. "Did you say your name is Cameron?"
"Yes, why?"
Her grip tightened. "What year is it? What month? What day?"
"What? I... I..." Alexandra tried to take a step back, but Erin held her firmly.
"What year is it?" Her voice was higher, feeling that dread drop into a leaden ball deep within her gut, determined now to not go anywhere.
"What's gotten in to you?"
"The year, Alexandra?" Erin demanded; her mouth now so dry it felt she hadn't drunk anything for days. Seeing the wide look of fear in the face before her Erin relented her grip gently. "Please," she whispered, "what year is this?"
Alexandra took a step back, fussing with her apron in a moment of regaining her composure. "It's 1757, early August to be exact."
"What's the date?" The dread thumped over her mind like a drumbeat.
"2nd, a Tuesday."
"Oh god!" Erin raised her hand to her lips, feeling them shiver as the full weight of information was laid open and bare, today all these people would die.
She had no time anymore to dwell on how she got here, or why she was here, or how any of this was even possible; all she knew was that on this date the Cameron family were massacred by a roaming War Party sent by the French army.
Neither the historical accounts or the novel had deemed to give this family any names beyond Mr and Mrs Cameron and children, not even a mention of how many, of who they were, just the part they played in another, more exciting story.
"We have to go; we have to leave now!"
"What on earth is wrong?" Alexandra said, her expression an equal split of worry, and skittish trepidation that the young woman before her had lost her mind. "Erin, you are scaring me." The sudden use of such familiarity brought Erin back to herself and she took in a deep breath.
Her mind raced, and with that she made up a very brittle plan that she could only hope would hold up long enough.
"I remember now," she breathed, meeting Alexandra's gaze with her own, calm, ready, and full of an urgent plea to be heard. "My father, he is at Fort William Henry, he is an officer, I travelled to see him." The Munro sisters could not begrudge her using their story.
Alexandra was beginning to radiate less nervous energy as Erin spoke.
"On the road, I was attacked, a war party."
Alexandra covered her mouth in shocked horror.
"They killed everyone I was with, my escort, my friends, and left me for dead. I overheard them as I lay there pretending to be dead, they are from the French, sent to kill settlers along the river, to cause dissent."
"Oh Erin." Alexandra rushed towards her, scooping her up in an embrace that nearly broke Erin's momentum. "I am so very sorry for your loss and all you have been through."
Erin wanted to stay in that embrace, comforted by another person after all she had been through, but she fought against the impulse to be weak. "No," she said, pushing away firmly, "you don't understand."
"Then tell me, I'm listening," Alexandra said, looking back at her with such genuine warmth and trust that Erin felt tears prick at her eyes. This woman, her husband, those annoying but sweet little kids, they all died horrible, brutal deaths. Killed for no more than a trick to break apart the English army.
"That war party is heading here." She grasped frantically for words for a moment, striving to make all this believable. "I heard them say the Cameron homestead was next." She shook Alexandra softly. "They are coming here and they will kill you with no mercy."
"Lord preserve us," Alexandra breathed, and without a moment of hesitation she picked up her skirts and made for the door, screaming out her husband's name.
