When Fate Dictates (20 page)

Heaving the trapdoor shut and sliding the
pole through some brackets on top of it, he settled beside me on
the wooden floor.

“This is why I needed to get the cottage
extended. No one must ever know that this room exists,” he pointed
to the wall. “You see Corran? Behind there is where Duncan’s room
is, and here,” he said, pointing to an adjacent inside wall,
“behind that is the spare room. There is no access to this room
from upstairs. I have built no door to it. From the kitchen the
ceiling appears seamless, but bang it in the right place and the
hatch will drop along with the ladder, that is, as long as this
pole is not fixed in these brackets here,” he finished.

“But why would we need such a room and what
does it have to do with us leaving the cottage? I don’t understand
Simon.”

“Look out of that window Corran. You see the
hills?”

“Aye, I do,” I said, wondering what else he
expected me to see around here.

“Those are the hills over which the Red Coats
travel when they move from Edinburgh to England. From here we will
see them coming for miles.”

“So you think they will come then?” I asked,
quietly, afraid to say the words.

“Aye Corran, they will come, but as I said
the night I brought you here. They will come for our cattle, not
us. However it won’t do us any harm to be prepared.”

“Simon we don’t have any cattle yet.”

“It doesn’t matter Corran. They will come
looking whether we have any or not.”

“What will happen if you are not in the house
when they come, Simon?”

“Then you must bring Duncan into this room. I
will take care of myself.”

“Simon, the stag will not save you a second
time from a bullet.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Corran. You can be
fairly sure that I have no wish to be shot again. You need not
worry on that account. I have made a safe shelter in the woods for
the men working on the farm. But we could all use it if we ever
needed it. I saw to its making a few days after we arrived here. If
the army comes and we are not able to get back to the house then
the shelter is where we will go.”

“You are frightening me Simon.”

“I don’t mean to scare you lass but you need
to know of this room. If I am not here one day and you and Duncan
are in danger, I need to know you will be safe.”

“Speaking of Duncan, I think we should go
back to him. Those toys won’t entertain him forever,” I said,
imagining with horror the chaos a toddler was capable of causing if
left unattended.

“Do you need me to bring some wood in from
the store for the fires?” Simon asked, once we were back in the
kitchen.

“Yes please. I need to get Duncan’s bed made
so that he can go to sleep. It is getting late for him to still be
up.”

“Simon, I have been thinking about the wood
store. Four poles and a thatch roof are not going to keep the wood
dry when the heavy snows come. Perhaps we should think about
enclosing it?”

“You are right lass, and I have considered it
already. I am planning to put a shelter off the kitchen where we
can store the fuel for the fires but I need to get the hay barn up
first.”

There was a banging on the kitchen door and a
little voice called from behind it. “Momma?”

“I am coming Duncan,” I called, reaching for
the door handle and opening the door.

“Duncan tired Momma, Duncan go bed now?” he
said, reaching his little arms toward me. I bent and lifted him up,
planting a loving kiss on his podgy cheek as I did so.

“What about your dinner Duncan?” Simon
said.

“Duncan not hungry. Duncan wants to go to
bed.”

“Well then Duncan, let’s go and get that bed
ready and you into it. You had a good meal earlier, I am sure you
won’t die of starvation before the morning,” I said, lifting him
into my arms.

“I’ll bring some wood up to the lad’s room.”
Simon said, heading for the front door.

“Thank you. You can say his prayers with him
tonight if you wish.” I offered.

“Aye, that would be good Corran, I would like
that,” he replied.

I had not yet finished dressing the little
boy when Simon arrived at Duncan’s bedroom door, arms filled with
logs. Duncan bounced and wriggled on the bed as I tried to pull his
nightshirt on. “Simon, seeing as you are here, please help me dress
our son?”

He lowered the logs onto the hearth and moved
toward Duncan’s bed.

“Come here you little beast!” Simon said,
lifting the child off the bed and holding him still long enough to
allow me to pull the gown over his head.

“Keep him there for me Simon; I have his
stockings to get on yet,” I said, grabbing for the tiny pair of
white knitted stockings on the chest of drawers next to the
bed.

“Right, done it!” I exclaimed
triumphantly.

“It’s easier to hold on to a trout than this
chap,” Simon said, releasing Duncan, who immediately sprung back
into jumping on the new straw mattress. His little giggles were
infectious and soon both Simon and I were playing along with him,
laughing and pretending to tickle him. Eventually, when I could
laugh no more, I took firm hold of Duncan, pulled the quilt back
and tucked him firmly in the bed.

“Now, Duncan, time for bed. You told mummy
and daddy that you were tired. You must go to sleep. It is late and
mummy and daddy are tired too. Come little man, daddy will say your
prayers with you and I will light a nice warm fire for you. God
bless little one, I love you very much, sweet dreams,” I said,
planting an affectionate kiss on his forehead and moving toward the
hearth.

Later that night Simon and I stood outside
the front door looking up at the sky. Sprinkles of starlight
glistened in the pitch black of the sky. “Thank you Simon,” I said,
taking his hand in mine.

“What for?” he asked.

“For bringing us here... for everything
Simon, thank you. I love you.”

“It is my pleasure Corran, and I love you
too,” he said, slipping his arm around me.

“Just look at the sky. It never looked like
that in York,” I said, gazing at the millions of stars that
twinkled above us.

“It didn’t, you are right,” he said, giving
my hand a gentle squeeze. “Does it remind you of the glen?” he
asked.

“Aye, it does, Simon, even the air reminds me
of my village,” I paused, smelling the sweet fresh breeze.

“The air is cold tonight,” I said, drawing my
shawl tighter around me.

“Aye Corran, it is. The wind comes in from
the north east; let’s hope it doesn’t bring us any snow
tonight.”

I cast my head toward the sky again. “There
isn’t a cloud to be seen for miles. It won’t snow tonight.”

“Mmm, let’s hope not,” he replied, his tone
edged with concern.

It would seem that Simon had been right, for
when we woke the following morning, it was to a carpet of thick,
even snow. That beautiful clear evening sky had turned to a thick,
dull gray haze that hung heavily above us. We stood at the door and
watched as a curtain of snow poured down in front of us.

“Looks like you were right,” I said, turning
to face my husband.

He nodded grimly, “Aye, and I would rather
not have been. The horses won’t fend too well in this and I see we
have three sheep in the paddock. What am I to do with them?”

“Sheep?” I said with surprise. “What are
three sheep doing in the paddock?”

“I have no idea Corran but they have wandered
into my paddock and that makes them my responsibility.”

“Do you think the snow will last for long?” I
asked.

“I do,” he said grimly, pulling on his boots.
“It always does when it comes in from the north.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, as he reached
across my head and retrieved his coat off the hook.

“Going to take at look those sheep, and
whilst I am there, raise the men and see if we can make something
suitable for the horses to shelter in.”

“But Simon you will hardly be able to see
your hand in front of your face out there and the wind is blowing a
gale. Surely it would be better to sit the storm out and then deal
with the animals?”

“I am not about to let those creatures die
because I did nothing. The men and animals are my responsibility
and yes, it will be dangerous out there but if we lose the horses
we will all be in trouble. We are most likely cut off already but
with the horses and a sledge I could get through to the town. It
could be months before this clears and we don’t have enough food or
fuel to see us that far; a few weeks perhaps, but not months.”

“Is none of the wood you cut any good for
fuel?”

“No, it will be another eighteen months of
drying before that wood can be used. We will need to buy all our
fuel in this winter. The snow has come too early and if we don’t
get to the town soon, then I doubt there will be any dry wood to be
bought. We won’t be the only ones in need of it.”

He pulled his coat around him, bent to kiss
my forehead and made his way through the front door.

******

He was right, it did continue to snow for
many more months and it was not until the end of April that we
finally said goodbye to the wicked winter weather. Four men and
their families stayed with us through that winter. Duncan grew so
much; I hardly recognized him as the same little boy with whom we
had fled York.

Bizarrely, he had a look of Simon about him.
The blond hair with which he had been born had become slightly
copper in color and his eyes had deepened to a beautiful sparkling
blue. Simon, by contrast, had smoldering dark brown eyes, so dark
that at times they appeared black as pitch. His features were the
complete opposite of Duncan’s. Yet still I saw it; a look, a
manner, I could not say for sure, but in that little boy I saw my
husband. Reason told me it could not be. We had found the baby
abandoned, orphaned on the banks of the river in York. His mother
most likely a prostitute, his father probably some passing solider
or merchant. Logically, I reasoned that it had to be down to
nurture that the boy resembled his adoptive father.

But one day, in mid July whilst the men and
Simon were in the fields, Duncan and I packed up a picnic and took
it out to them. I watched Simon as he worked. The way he moved, the
way he stood, the way he walked, was so much like the little boy.
The men heard us coming and downed their tools, walking over to us
with great smiles of welcome. I handed out the bread and cheese and
passed each of them a mug of ale that they accepted gleefully.
Duncan chased after them as they grabbed bales of hay on which to
sit. Simon sat on the grass next to me, his long powerful legs
stretched lazily in front of him. He reached for a large lump of
cheese and his mug of ale.

“Simon, can I ask you something?” I said,
wondering as I did, exactly how I was supposed to say what I was
thinking.

He nodded his mouth full of ale.

“You know Duncan?” I began.

He nearly choked on the ale as he let out a
loud robust laugh.

“Of course I know the lad Corran... he is our
son,” he stammered, still choking through his laughter. “Do you
think I have taken leave of my senses and forgotten who my family
are?”

I shook my head. “No Simon. I just have
something I want to talk to you about.”

“Well, talk away then lass,” he said,
swallowing his mouthful.

“Have you ever noticed how much like you
Duncan is?” I said.

He looked blankly across at me, his eyes
confused. “Well no, I can’t really say as I have, Corran. He copies
me, as any child would do their parent, but I am not his natural
father and you know that. His hair is copper and his eyes are blue.
He is not my natural son and you know that. What has put all this
nonsense in your head?”

“I know that he is not your son Simon but I
don’t understand why he has a look of you. I can’t explain it
either.”

“I think that you have spent too much time in
the sun Corran. This is just fanciful nonsense. We both know this
boy was an orphan until you found him. You are not his natural
mother and I am not his natural father, it would...”

“Sir, sir... ” Hamish, the youngest of the
lads working for Simon came panting up toward us.

“Calm yourself man,” said Simon.

“Sir, it’s... it’s... soldiers. I saw them
over the hills, they are heading this way.”

Simon sprang up from the ground, waving his
arms and shouting frantically to get the attention of the other
workers.

“Stay here Corran, I am going for Duncan.”
Turning to face Hamish he said, “Get the men to the place I showed
you and do it now.”

“But what about the cattle, Mr. Simon, do you
want us hide them?” Hamish panted breathlessly.

“Forget the cattle Hamish, just get the men
and hide yourselves,” Simon shouted.

I watched with stunned horror as Simon
sprinted the length of the field, grabbed Duncan in one arm and
raced back toward me, signaling me with his free hand and shouting
orders for me to clear up the picnic. The men raced past me at a
frantic pace, and headed toward the forest. Hamish fell behind them
and stopped beside me.

“Ma’am, the picnic,” he said, bending to the
ground and hastily throwing everything into the wicker basket,
lifting it and handing it to me. I took it off him. My movements
were slowed and dream-like. Then Simon was beside me with Duncan
hooked under his arm. He grabbed me and dragged me back toward the
house, pushing me through the front door and into the kitchen. I
dropped the basket on the floor. He put Duncan down, grabbed the
long wooden pole and thrust it toward the ceiling. The hatch sprung
open, the ladder dropped. He ran back to the front door, locked it
and pocketed the key, slammed the shutters closed, and ran back to
the ladder. He pushed me toward it.