Page 19 of All In Good Time
“Is he ill?” Helene couldn’t imagine what it could be that would have Dougall so out of sorts.
“Nae. Nothing as simple as that.” He took a deep breath. “Helene, he told me something in confidence. He didnae wish me to share it with ye, but I assured him that ye would keep it to yerself and ye wouldnae say a word to anyone.”
Helene was frightened. What could possibly be so wrong? “I promise.”
“Not even to Sara. Do ye understand?”
Helene was taken aback for a moment, but it was clear this was important to Dougall. “Aye. I’ll nae tell her.”
“Logan is to be married,” Dougall blurted out, while Helene gasped. “Our friend Aisla is with child and he feels honor bound to do the right thing by her. They’ll be married soon and Sara being here is going to complicate matters greatly.”
“I had no idea he was spending time with her,” Helene said, her mind reeling on hearing this news.
“’Tis nae his child. Whoever the da is, he is nae longer here at Breaghacraig.”
“Dougall, we must tell Sara.” Helene felt ill thinking of Sara’s reaction.
“We cannae, I gave him my word that I’d say nary a word to anyone. We must let Logan handle it the way he sees fit. This is his story to tell.”
“I see yer point. I dinnae like keeping secrets from my friend, but I’ll remain silent for the time being.” She buried her face in her hands, getting herself under control before looking up at her husband. “Oh, Dougall, she’ll be so heartbroken when she finds out.”
“She’ll know soon enough and she’ll need ye to help her through it. I’m sure she’ll wish to return home once she finds out.”
* * *
Sara was seatedin a chair by the window, hoping that by some chance Logan would come sauntering up the path. She wondered what on earth was wrong with Dougall, but assumed that whatever it was he had to speak with Helene about had nothing to do with her. Or at least she hoped it didn’t.
“Sara, I’m so sorry we went off and left ye alone. I’m afraid I’ve nae been a verra good host to ye,” Dougall said.
She turned to see both Dougall and Helene standing there staring at her. Helene was holding on to Dougall’s arm for dear life and now had the same odd expression on her face that Dougall wore.
“Is something wrong? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“We’ve nae ghosts in our home, Sara,” Dougall assured her.
“That’s just a saying… from my time.” Sara had been feeling quite comfortable here to this point, but now she had a sneaking suspicion that something was up and they weren’t telling her about it. Was a war about to happen? Was this the time that the plague took place? She didn’t think so, but she couldn’t remember what she’d learned in history classes. She’d never been very good at remembering dates.
“Oh, I see…”
“Everything’s fine, Sara,” Helene said, not sounding at all like it was.
“Well, I’m going to go get cleaned up, if ye ladies will excuse me.” Dougall nodded to Sara, kissed Helene on the cheek and left the room.
“I’ll need to get the water fer him. I’ll be right back.”
So, Sara found herself all alone once again and wondering what the heck was going on around here. “I’m going to go for a walk,” she yelled to no one in particular. They probably couldn’t hear her, but how much trouble could she get in on a walk. She slipped into her nice, warm cloak and went out the door into the garden.
Despite the chilly weather, the sun was shining and the flowers seemed to be enjoying it. Everything was so green and vibrant. This time of year back home meant rolling brown hillsides due to lack of rain. Still, they were pretty in their own way. It seemed that here in Scotland they got more than their fair share of weather, as she’d noted over the last few days.
She stopped to smell a beautiful red rose. The aroma was magical. It tickled her nose and reminded her of her favorite perfume. The petals were soft and velvety. Some things never change, she thought to herself. Five hundred years and roses were still roses, and smelled equally as sweet. She strolled around to the back of the house where Helene had planted a vegetable garden. Come harvest time she’d have an abundance of vegetables for her table. Sara wondered about a root cellar. There was no refrigeration, so naturally they must have some place where they kept their food so it wouldn’t go bad. Sara searched around and finally came upon a structure that had been built into the side of a hill. It had a sturdy wooden door and no windows. This must be it. She hoped they wouldn’t mind if she peeked inside, because she was going to. She’d be crazy not to. How many people in her time got the opportunity to explore medieval life as it was actually happening.
The door opened easily and though it was dark, light from outside gave her just enough visibility to see in. The air was quite a bit cooler inside. The outer wall where the door was located was made of stacked stone. She wasn’t a builder by any means, but this was fascinating. There were tables filled with dirt where she could see carrots, turnips and other root vegetables. This also seemed to be where Helene kept her flour and several barrels meant this was also possibly where they kept whiskey, wine and ale.
She closed the door and continued her walk. A path leading further away from the house caught Sara’s eye and curiosity got the better of her. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if Helene or Dougall might be looking for her. They weren’t, so she continued on, enjoying the fresh air and the freedom she felt being on her own. She liked it here. It was so quiet she could actually hear herself think. No cars, sirens or planes overhead interfered with the sounds of nature. Happy birds chirped and sang as she walked through the trees and small critters scurried out of her way as she approached. This made her smile. Sara loved all animals, but birds and small fuzzy creatures were particular favorites. Her social media feeds were filled with videos and images of them, so the chance to spend time here among them in their own world was special to her.
A chilly breeze blew down the pathway causing Sara to wrap herself more snuggly in her cloak. It was followed by the distant sound of thunder. She turned and looked back the way she came to see dark clouds approaching. Sara was certain she had plenty of time to explore before the rain started, so instead of heading back to the house, Sara continued to walk further and further. She was completely entranced by the surrounding woods until a drop of rain, and then another, plopped onto her head. She pulled her hood up and turned back towards the house, but it was no longer visible. She had no idea how long she’d been wandering, nor had she truly paid attention to where she was going. She was fairly sure she’d traveled in a straight line from the house to this point, so she headed back the way she’d come.
The rain began to fall harder and the air became cooler. The birds were no longer singing and all the little forest creatures had taken shelter. She was completely alone and becoming more and more unsure of herself. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the house appeared and along with it Sara’s sense of well-being returned, until she realized it wasn’t Helene and Dougall’s home she was seeing. It was a much smaller cottage, or croft, as she’d been told they were called. Shivering in her soaking wet cloak, Sara had no choice but to knock on the door and hope that the people who lived there would be kind enough to let her stay until the storm passed.