"She is a he. It’s a boy," Bridget laughed, not even noticing the tears on her cheeks that glistened in the candlelight. She looked at Faylinn and grinned stupidly. "He’s beautiful."
"Toldja," Faylinn said smugly, knowing her own cheeks were wet. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands when Bridget’s face went blurry.
Bridget leaned down and kissed Faylinn’s knee. "So you did." She reached over and grabbed one of the smaller pelts that Faylinn wasn’t lying on and carefully wrapped the crying baby in it, taking time to cut the cord with the knife she wore at her waist.
Faylinn ran her hands over the cap of blonde hair when Bridget laid the infant in his mother’s arms. He looked very different from her dark-haired son Henry and tears filled her eyes again when she spared a long loving thought for the sweet little boy she’d lost. "He’s beautiful," she whispered, holding him close and kissing the top of his head, smiling when he immediately quieted.
"Toldja," Bridget repeated happily, pulling the soiled fur out from under Faylinn’s lower body and replacing it with a clean one. Using the water from the bladder and a small cloth from their bags she cleaned up Faylinn the best she could.
Faylinn laughed and nodded as she repeated her lover’s words. "So you did."
As soon as she was assured that Faylinn was as comfortable as she could be under the circumstances, Bridget moved so she could get a better look at the baby. She wrapped an arm around Faylinn and the baby. Both women watched in fascination as Bridget caught a tiny waving fist and allowed the baby to grab hold of her finger. "Hello, little one," she cooed, missing the beaming look of happiness and devotion Faylinn turned on her.
Faylinn reached up and with her fingers lifted Bridget’s chin so their lips could meet in a slow kiss. "Thank you," she said softly, backing away from Bridget’s mouth only a fraction of an inch. She said the words in her mind, knowing that her companion would hear them, and believing just as surely she would repeat them for a lifetime.
Bridget’s answering smile told Faylinn she was right and the older woman whispered back the phrase she’d heard Faylinn use in passion and laughter, and through tears of joy and sorrow. She would never tire of it and they were the only words of Gaelic she knew. "
Tha gaol agam ort-fhèin
," Bridget said softly, her voice cracking with emotion.
Through a watery smile, Faylinn translated for the newest member of their family, who was cradled safely in both their arms. "I love you, too."
* * *
Kayla let out a long breath as she guided her horse around a tree. "That was some story," she admitted, not quite knowing what to say but finding herself in the uncharacteristic position of wanting to break the silence that had enveloped them after Badger had stopped speaking. They were riding single file now, with Badger leading her and Faylinn through the trees. A heavy fog had settled over the forest and it was far denser at ground level. She couldn’t see the lower half of the horse’s legs, though it was only a few paces in front of her.
Liv wiped her eyes and looked over her shoulder to smile at Kayla. She mouthed the words ‘thank you’, then turned back towards Badger. "I can tell you like that one." Several times during the tale, and especially when Bridget was chasing after her wayward horse, the old man had shook his head and burst out laughing.
"I must admit that I do, lass." He shifted in the saddle and stretched stout arms over his head, causing the leather to creak under his weight as he moved. "But there’s no crime in a man having a favorite." He gestured to the left with his chin. "We’re almost there now. Follow me closely because it’s a tricky ride in this damnable fog."
Both women leaned forward a little in their saddles and their hands tightened around their reins as they rode down a small ravine, the horses’ breath coming short and quick as they navigated the steep terrain. Several minutes more and they could hear hooves splashing through a stream beneath them though they couldn’t see the water.
"Ah. Just up ahead now." They came up on the far bank of the stream and rode into an area where the trees didn’t seem quite so dense and the ground was flat. It was quieter here too. Even the wind didn’t seem to rustle the branches or the dead leaves.
"Whoa," Badger commanded under his breath, bringing his mount to a halt. He looked back at Kayla and Bridget and they both dutifully covered their eyes as he jumped down off his horse and smoothed his kilt into place. "All right, ladies. I think Kayla is free from the risk of blindness now."
Liv laughed and climbed down off her horse, keeping a firm hold of the reins in her hand. "Should we tie them up?"
Badger shook his head. "No. They won’t go far and they know this land. Let them get a drink in the stream. It’s been a long ride."
Kayla eased off her gelding’s back and watched her horse trotting after Faylinn’s horse, back towards the stream. Badger’s mare stayed right alongside him as he walked, his feet crunching loudly on the sticks and rocks that were scattered on the ground.
Near a tall oak tree, Badger stopped and peered down at the forest floor through the heavy fog. "I thought you’d like to see this." He looked around and drew in a deep, satisfied breath. It was good to be back and he made a mental note to ride this way more often. "I haven’t been here in a while myself." He turned inside himself for a moment, thinking hard before he gently cleared his throat. "C’mon girls, don’t let the nostalgia of an old man scare you off and keep you waiting back there." He motioned them forward and Liv and Kayla joined him. "We can’t stay long, mind you. If you don’t head back
suin
you’ll be riding in the dark."
"I don’t see anything," Liv commented. She noticed Kayla was looking down. Her forehead creased, and curious she followed Kayla’s gaze.
A lone gravestone, about two feet high and carved from a thick slab of gray rock, poked crookedly out of the damp soil.
Liv and Kayla exchanged glances and Badger moved away a few paces, to let them look and discover for themselves. A hazy mist rolled along the ground, obscuring the words that were neatly carved into the stone in bold letters. But several seconds more and the air around them cleared slightly on the heels of a breeze that smelled of earth and sodden leaves.
The stone read simply:
Bridget and Faylinn
1732
The elements had worn most of the face of the stone away, and the few words below the date looked indecipherable.
Liv crouched down and traced the words with a reverent fingertip, her mind easily filling in the missing Gaelic letters that time had erased. "Together They Found Peace."
Kayla knelt next to Liv and brushed a few leaves away from the stone’s crumbling base. Her heart clenched as she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. By the death grip Liv had on her hand, she knew her partner felt the same way. They turned questioning glances on Badger, who was waiting quietly, idly stroking his horse’s mane.
It was Liv who found her voice first. "Here?" she asked needlessly. "Not Virginia?"
"Ay." Badger gave his mare a good pat then dropped his hand. "When their laddie was eight years old and big enough to travel, they booked passage back across the sea." His eyes softened in sympathy as he read the sorrow in Kayla and Liv’s faces. "There’s no need for that. No need at all. They died after a life well lived and well loved. And in the end that’s a far greater accomplishment than most souls can claim."
"They died together?" Kayla asked, noting the single year that marked both deaths.
"They did." Badger unconsciously looked towards an opening in the trees. Small bushes and trees grew there, but none of the towering oaks that they were under now. It was clear that at some point that spot had been cleared. "Even here they couldn’t prance about as though they were free. Bridget was, after all, supposed to be dead and was branded a witch. And a letter from Judith Redding to Faylinn’s family claimed that young Faylinn had disappeared in the colonies and was presumed dead as well."
He tucked his hands into his belt. "A small house stood there, but only the stone foundation remains today. The walls crumbled away over time. Behind it was a small stable." Now he smiled. "Bridget never did kill Apollo, and he and Jezebel came to stay there, and over time, so did their offspring, and so on."
"In the autumn of 1732, a thunderstorm ravaged the land and lightning struck the stable. Faylinn and Bridget were mostly past riding by that age, but Bridget, the stubborn thing, still kept a single horse to carry them back to Cobb Manor and visit their family and the servants of the house, who over the years became trusted friends. Or they’d ride back to fetch a grandchild or two they had a hankering to visit. You see, after he’d finally had a good taste of the wanderlust, their son and his family came to settle at the manor alongside Faylinn’s kin. Of course, the entire family told Bridget and Faylinn they’d bring a wagon out here to get them whenever they desired, but the women wanted the freedom to come and go as they pleased, and you can’t truly begrudge them that."
He sighed and looked down at the ground. "Anyhow… When lightning struck the barn it went up in flames, and Bridget went in to try and save her horse." His white head shook. Despite himself his voice had taken on a hint of melancholy and he laughed softly, thinking he was truly getting sentimental in his old age.
"And Faylinn went into the stable after Bridget," Liv said bleakly, knowing in her heart she’d do the exact same thing.
"Ay. That she did, and neither one came out, which is exactly as they’d wanted it." He cocked his head to the side and regarded the women seriously. "Kayla Redding, how long have you been in Liv’s company?"
Kayla’s eyebrows jumped. "Not long."
"But long enough that you should’ve explained to her what I know you know," the man admonished. He glanced back at Liv. "The graves only hold their bones, lass, not their spirits or souls. If that weren’t true then Kayla wouldn’t be traipsing around the world and encountering spirits herself now, would she? They would all be trapped in their cold graves." He reached up and took his horse’s reins in his hand. "So there is no earthly reason for sadness. Faylinn and Bridget are every bit as much together today as they were three hundred years ago."
Faylinn smiled, believing his words without question and feeling a weight lift from her chest. "I suppose you’re right."
Kayla and Liv examined the old gravestone one last time then headed back towards Badger, hand in hand. "What did they name the baby?" Kayla asked, keeping her gaze on the ground and hoping she wouldn’t step someplace she’d regret.
"They named him Roderick."
She looked up and two sets of blue eyes met and twinkled. "And what was the pelt they wrapped him in when he was born?"
The husky man threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh as Liv looked back and forth between them, wondering what was going on. "There’s a reason you’re so good at your job, isn’t there, lass?" This was, he decided, a very good day. "You already know the answer to your question."
Kayla nodded slowly, a tiny smirk appearing.
Baffled, Liv gave her head a little shake. "Well, I don’t!"
Kayla draped her arm over Liv’s shoulders. "It was a badger pelt, Liv."
Badger scratched his thick white beard and shrugged. "The name stuck. Though both my mithers did tend to call me Roderick when they were comin’ after me with a switch."
Liv’s eyes widened and she began to stutter. "You-you’re him? You can’t be him… you’re Sylla’s husband!"
And how about the fact that Roderick would have to be dead? That’s a pretty damn good reason!
But one look into his honest blue eyes told her he was telling the truth. She turned an accusing glare on Kayla. "You knew?"
"Not for long," Kayla assured her, squirming under Liv’s stare. "I wasn’t really sure until today."
"I never exactly said I was Sylla’s husband. You just assumed that and I let you," he admitted, an apologetic look on his face. "A little trickery on my part kept sending the poor man to the wrong place at the wrong time so you wouldn’t meet."
Badger fell silent, turned his head away from the women as though he was listening to something.
Liv and Kayla went quiet as a slow grin spread across his face. He began to walk in the direction he’d been listening, talking as he went, and moving deeper into the fog. His horse followed closely behind him. "If you close your eyes," he told them, "and listen with more than just your ears, sometimes you can hear echoes from the mist around you. It’s where all manner of things from the past live and breathe as though they’d never died at all." He drew his hand through the fog, and it swirled around his fingers. "Most people just don’t bother to stop and listen." He paused in his trek and another smile touched his lips as he faced them.
Kayla and Liv were helpless to do anything other than smile back as his words wrapped around their hearts.
"Can you lasses find your way back to the manor?"
"I-I think so," Kayla answered, wanting to ask him to stay but somehow feeling it wouldn’t be the right thing to do.
"Good." He smoothed his woolen kilt with one hand and his eyes strayed back to the direction he’d been walking. "Because right now those echoes are calling me home."
"You’re leaving?" Liv looked around in confusion, searching for something to say.