Entwined (31 page)

“You hungry?” Duncan said, as if reading her mind.

“Aye,” she replied, hoping her stomach hadn’t betrayed her.

“Can you manage Amber and the horses on your own for a while?” he said, handing her the two sets of reins.

She took them without question and watched as Duncan sprinted off around the side of the inn. He returned a few minutes later with two sacks slung over his shoulder.

“What have you got there?” she asked, guessing it was fresh food of some kind by the fervent attempt Amber was making to break the hold she had on her.

Duncan hoisted the bags up into the cart and turned to Eilidh with a clear and very definite smile.

“Food,” he said, making no attempt to hide his enthusiasm.

She smiled back at him, relieved that the darkness was lifting from his spirit.

“For us or Amber?” she said, with a laugh as the dog gave another concerted effort to free herself from Eilidh’s hold.

“Both,” he replied, grabbing Amber’s collar. “You hold the horses and I’ll keep hold of this one. I think of the three she is the most troublesome right now.”

“That’s only because she is hungry. We’ve fed the horses but you, me and Amber haven’t eaten in nearly forty eight hours.”

“Eilidh, throw me that line of rope please,” he said, nodding at the back of the cart.

“Aye, what do you need it for?”

“To tether your dog before she rips my arm off,” he replied, with a deep rumbling laugh.

He caught the rope with his left hand and slipped its end under the collar before knotting it and hooking it around the trunk of a tree in the courtyard of the inn.

“That should keep her out of trouble for a while,” he said, taking a pair of horse’s reins from Eilidh. Moving the horse to the front of the cart, he put the harness on. Pausing, he turned back to Eilidh. “Has Amber had a drink?”

“Aye, she fought the horses for the trough and she got her fair share.”

“We’ll stop for the night just south of Berwick. If you and Amber can hold your hunger for a few more hours, I promise you both a meal the likes of which you will never forget,” pausing a moment, “I know a field where there is some good grazing land and a clear stream.”

“How do you know of this place, Duncan?”

“It belongs to my Pa,” he said with a grin.

“Oh,” she replied, clearly surprised. “I didn’t know you Pa had other land.”

“No, no one but me did.”

“Not even your ma?”

He shook his head, still grinning. “Especially not Ma.”

“Why?”

“Because my Pa won the land gambling and Ma didn’t much approve of him gambling.”

“Didn’t you feel guilty, keeping it from her?”

“No. It was news she wouldn’t have wanted to hear,” he said, untying Amber’s lead and handing it to Eilidh.

“My Ma and Pa never kept anything from each other,” she said climbing onto the bench at the front of the cart.

“Are you sure?”

She turned to him, a look of hurt lingering deep within her eyes. “Aye, of course I am sure. What makes you ask?”

He shrugged and tied the second horse to the back of the cart.

“Just that I don’t think you can be sure that you know everything about a person,” he said, pausing with his hands on the side of the cart. “No matter how close you might think they are.”

“I don’t agree,” Eilidh said, settling Amber beside her. “I think people should be honest with each other about everything.”

“Even if that honesty means sharing things you know will cause pain?” he asked, joining her on the bench and taking the reins in his hands.

Eilidh nodded.

“Aye, Duncan, even if it means hurting someone, because if you love someone, really love them, then you wouldn’t have any secrets that would cause them pain.”

The cart rolled slowly away from the inn and Duncan guided the horse back onto the main road to Berwick.

“My Ma and Pa love each other more than anyone I’ve ever known, yet my Pa has secrets. I had secrets about Pa which I kept from Ma because I didn’t want to hurt her. They were not my secrets yet I still kept them,” he argued.

She went quiet beside him, her hand resting gently on Amber’s collar in case she should catch a whiff of the food in the back of the cart. He knew he had confused her and he understood the conflict his comment had caused her, but he also knew it was a conversation they had to have, because he had an uncomfortable feeling that before too long he was going to have to keep a secret from her to avoid causing her pain.

Duncan steered the cart ever further eastwards until eventually they reached the sandy shores of the North Sea.

“It’s only another couple of miles south of here,” he shouted above the wind.

Conversation was near impossible and neither of them bothered to speak much until the wind dropped back and the sea was little more than a thin line on the horizon.

“Have you been to this land often?” Eilidh asked, as Duncan drew the cart to a stop beside a wooded area about a mile and a half off the main track.

“A few times. Pa didn’t come here often and I think he rather wished he didn’t own it.”

“I can understand that,” she said, casting a critical eye over the dense growth. “Although it looks fertile enough.”

“Oh aye, it’s fertile alright, and it would have made an excellent farm… But as Ma didn’t know about it there wasn’t much Pa could do with it,” he said, jumping down from the cart.

Eilidh slipped the rope from Amber’s collar and set her free. The dog sprang to life in the leafy undergrowth of the trees. Her stomach drew her nose to a trail and before they knew it she had sped off in search of a meal.

“She’ll catch all she needs,” Eilidh said, joining Duncan next to the cart.

“I’ve no doubt she will, but in case she doesn’t there’s a lamb leg bone in that sack for her,” he said, nodding at the back of the cart.

“So that’s what you’ve got in there,” she said, with an appreciative smile. “I’m quite sure that whatever Amber catches it won’t be as welcome as a lamb bone.”

“She’s not having it until we’ve eaten our fill of the meat on it,” he said lifting the heavy sack and dropping it on the ground. “I bought a salted pork off the inn keeper too. That should keep us for a few days.”

“Weeks,” Eilidh said, having a peek inside the sack. “What have you got in that sack,” she asked pointing at the second bag which was still in the cart.

“A couple of loaves of bread, some butter and a small keg of ale.”

“We will be rolling into York at this rate,” she said, curling her mouth in an appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, madam,” he said with an exaggerated bow which sent them both into fits of laughter.

“Shall I unhitch the horses?” she asked when at last they had ceased their laughing.

“Aye,” he said, pulling some dried wood from the cart. “Pa and I chopped this two summers back,” he paused and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It was two summers back from 1715 but I’ve lost track of time. I suppose if you add up all the time we were in the ‘new world’ it would be possible to work it out, but right now I prefer to think of it as two summers back.”

“Can you still remember how to light a fire?” she asked.

“I don’t need to.”

“Aren’t we cooking the lamb?”

“Oh aye, we are cooking it alright,” he said, sliding his hand inside the pocket of his trousers. “I didn’t forget to empty my jeans when I changed,” he said, opening his hand to show her a ‘new world’ lighter.

“Be sure you are never seen with that,” Eilidh cautioned.

“I did consider leaving it at the farm,” he paused, at the thought of his childhood home, “but it seemed more of a risk to leave it there. Besides, for the purpose of this trip, I do believe it will be most useful.”

Eilidh nodded her agreement and set to work on the horses.

“There is a stream of water down there,” he said, nodding to his left. Tether them to a tree for now and I’ll take them down for a drink when I’ve got the fire going,” he said, moving off in search of dry kindling. Eilidh did as she was asked and then went about clearing a small campsite. The farmhouse had provided them with most essentials, including a cooking pot and bedding. She lifted the heavy cast iron pot from the cart and set it on the ground next to the dried wood from the farm.

Duncan wasn’t gone long. He returned with an excited Amber and an arm full of dried twigs and leaves. His face lit up as his eyes rested on Eilidh, staring thoughtfully up at the sky.

“A penny for them?” he said, dropping the kindling on the ground next to the cooking pot.

“I was just wondering what time it is,” she said, watching the sun gradually disappear behind a hill.

He followed her look and stared idly at the horizon.

“I have never thought so much about time as I have over the past year.”

“Nor have I,” she replied softly. “What did you do with your watch?”

“I left it in the hole we made as kids,” he said.

“Do you miss it?”

“Aye, I do, but it stopped working the moment we changed time, so it wouldn’t have been much use to us.”

“Shall I fetch the meat?” she asked, watching as a flame from his lighter caught on a twig.

“Aye,” he said, moving the flaming twig to a small pile of leaves and wood shavings.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave your knife behind,” she said, watching the wood shavings catch light.

“Never,” he replied, blowing gently on the pile of kindling.

“Be careful no one ever catches you with the knife, either,” she said, casting her eyes to the red plastic cased penknife next to the pile of shavings.

“Oh I will be,” he replied, reaching for the knife and slipping it into his pocket.

Eilidh grabbed two woolen blankets from the cart and laid them on the clearing beside the fire.

“Can you fetch those two water bottles from my bag?” he said, pulling the leg joint from the sack.

“Aye. What do you want me to do with them?”

“Take them down to the stream and fill them with water, please?”

“Duncan, we should get rid of all these things,” she said, retrieving the bottles from his bag.

He shrugged, “They are useful.”

“But dangerous,” she replied with slight panic to her voice. “People in this time are suspicious. You know that.”

“Then we have to make sure that no one ever knows that we have these things.”

She turned from him and made her way down a small bank to the stream. Holding the bottle under the water she shuddered at the thought of their fate, were they ever to be discovered.

Eilidh had found some mint growing on the edge of the river bank and had returned to Duncan with a triumphant smile and a hand full of the heavily scented herb. Now the smell of minted lamb filled the cool evening air around them and Eilidh’s stomach rumbled in anticipation of the meal.

Duncan was down at the river, watering the horses, Amber had curled up beside her with her head tucked under her front paw. She could hear the gentle rhythm of her breathing as her ribs rose and fell with each breath. Eilidh ran her hand gently over the curve of the dog’s back. She was a boney creature, despite the amount of food she managed to consume. Her eyes wandered to the glowing embers of the fire and was thankful for the gentle light. She rose and made her way to the back of the cart. Pulling a quilt from it, she wrapped it snugly around her shoulders before returning to her spot beside Amber and the fire. It wasn’t long before Duncan returned with the two horses and, having tethered them to a tree, sat himself next to Eilidh.

“That meat smells almost cooked,” he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I’m surprised Amber has settled so well, given the smells from that pot.”

Eilidh smiled down at the dog, snoring peacefully beside her. “I think she caught her fill of food earlier.”

“Well, the bone should keep her quiet for a few hours tomorrow,” Duncan said, reaching forwards and peering inside the pot.