“Aye but what matters is we’re alive and all is well once more.”
The meal went on long after dark. Rachel was glad when it was over, much as she enjoyed it. The longer her pregnancy progressed, the more tired she felt. She would be glad when her son was finally born and she could sleep on her front again.
She couldn’t say how she knew he was going to be a boy. Heir to the MacGregor clan. That was a strange thought.
She yawned when Cam finally led her into his bed chamber. The Laird was supposed to sleep alone but Cam had no time for such arcane rules. He slept every night beside Rachel and she was glad.
She felt at her safest with him wrapped around her, knowing he would protect her from any danger that might arise in the night. It was a good feeling.
She lay in bed after the feast. Smoke still drifted from the recently snuffed candles as she thought about the phone call she’d made.
She had spoken to her mother. It was all too brief but she knew she should not be bitter about that. She had a chance to speak to her across a great distance and across the centuries. How her cellphone connected, she had no idea.
What she didn’t know was that centuries before Morag’s birth, her ancestors had inherited a tiny amount of magic without even realizing it was happening. That magic passed down the family for generations until Rachel was born. It was that magic that allowed the call to connect her to Morag,
The cellphone would never work again. It would eventually be buried deep under the castle for some future archeologist to scratch their head over.
Rachel no longer needed it. She had all she needed in the room with her. “Your grandmother is going to come and visit you,” she said quietly while stroking her bump.
Behind her Cam stirred and then woke. “What’s wrong?” he asked, alert at once.
“Nothing,” she replied, closing her eyes and yawning again as she drifted off to sleep. “Nothing at all.”
Outside, snow began to fall, blanketing the castle courtyard in white. The guards shivered at their posts, stamping their feet to keep warm.
It would be a long, hard winter.
Epilogue
Three years later…
The children were asleep. Morag in the cot, Philip across in his wee bed. Cam was in bed asleep. Rachel would soon join him but she couldn’t resist looking at her children for a little while first.
Rachel looked down at the cot, unable to stop smiling. He was so bonny she thought she might burst.
Two children. Morag and Philip. Named for her mother and Cam’s mentor. The births had been nothing compared to what she was expecting. She looked down at his scrunched up face as he shifted in his sleep.
She remembered her fear concerning the first delivery, how a lack of modern medicine meant any birth was a risk. There was no ambulance to race her off to a hospital. The nearest they had was the clan midwife, Old Sue.
Old Sue had listened when Rachel talked about cleanliness. She might not understand why but when she insisted the towels were boil washed, the servants did it. No one disobeyed Old Sue.
It had been three years since Rachel has slipped back in time to medieval Scotland. In that time she’d learned to love the place so much, her memories of the twenty-first century were fading. Having children meant her whole focus was on being a wife and mother, not on regretting life without hairdryers or Kindles.
Many things made her happy in the Highlands. Looking in at her sleeping baby was one. Turning to see little Philip asleep in his bed was another. Then there was Cam. Waking every morning next to her husband was a pleasure that would never fade.
There was only one thing that gnawed at her. She had hoped to see her mother again but it hadn’t happened.
She had so much to tell her. She wanted to show her the grandchildren she’d never had the chance to meet. She yearned for the chance to introduce the two of them to their grandmother but, as each day ticked by, it seemed less and less likely.
Once she was certain her family were all asleep, she left the bed chamber, descending the stairs to the courtyard with a lantern in her hand.
She crossed the open space quickly, a chill wind blowing straight through her cloak. Winter was on the way. It would be her third one in the Middle Ages. She had gotten used to the snow and the ice, but the wind still chilled her to the bone when it struck, no matter how many layers of clothing she wore.
She was glad to get inside the chapel. Though not warm, it was infinitely preferable to the icy blast outside. She would not stay long. Soon she would be back in her warm bedchamber. It was time to give thanks once again. Give thanks and ask once again for the one thing that would make her family feel complete.
Morag might wake and need feeding at any moment and Cam had not slept much the night before, needed to deal with a border dispute over by MacKenzie territory. Grumblings were once again building between the two clans.
It seemed that peace could only last so long before darkness began to swirl once more. How long until the Highlands could relax? They had the Jacobite Rebellion to come, the Highland Clearances, and losing at one World Cup after another. Maybe she should introduce soccer to them? Get them practising early. The thought made her smile.
