God's Highlander (15 page)

‘Tibbie! Donnie! That's enough from both of you.' Mairi brought the quarrel to an abrupt end. ‘Donnie, we need more water. Go to the burn and fetch some. Tibbie, we'll be needing more peat for the fire in a minute or two. We might as well have it now. Off you go.'

When brother and sister-in-law had gone off in different directions, Mairi explained to Wyatt: ‘Tibbie knows Donnie's sweet on Seonaid. She shouldn't tease him so.'

Carefully turning a sizzling piece of venison on a wooden spit, Mairi looked across the fire to where Wyatt sat nursing a gently smoking pipe. ‘What's
your
interest in her?'

‘I feel sorry for the girl, I suppose. I called in to see her father on my way up here. She can't have the easiest of lives.'

‘No,' Mairi agreed. ‘But she doesn't go out of her way to make it any easier for herself.'

Before Wyatt could ask Mairi what she meant, Tibbie returned to the fire with an armful of half-dried peat turf.

‘We'll need to cut more turfs tomorrow. We've at least six more weeks up here and hardly enough peat for three.'

‘We've used more than usual tonight.' Mairi arranged a number of turfs about the burning fire, taking care not to disturb the glowing ashes immediately beneath the spitting meat. ‘You must go easy on Donnie, Tibbie. You know how he hates to be teased – especially about Seonaid.'

‘You'd be doing him more of a favour if you were to “tease” him yourself. If we're not careful, he'll be marrying the girl and bringing her home. Then we'll
all
know the meaning of trouble. I wouldn't leave her alone in the house with my Ian, I can tell you. I worked hard to get him; I'll not lose him to her.'

Wyatt would have liked to ask Tibbie what she meant, but Mairi said softly: ‘Hush now, here's Donnie back.'

As though he was aware that the women had been talking about him, Donnie was scowling when he came into the firelight. He dropped the wooden bucket heavily to the ground, spilling some of the water.

By the time the water Donnie had spilled began hissing and steaming on the hot stones at the edge of the fire, he had gone off into the night once more.

‘I'll go and find him….' Wyatt rose to his feet. But Mairi said: ‘Leave him. He'll be back for supper all the better for being left alone for a while.'

‘I need to speak to him. To find out where he's sleeping and ask if he'll share his shelter with me.'

‘Yours is already made. It's not much, but it will keep the wind off you, and we won't be having any rain tonight. It's over there, close to where Tibbie and I are sleeping. Donnie is a little farther away.'

The light from the fire was just strong enough for Wyatt to see a small lean-to shelter, no more than four feet high and perhaps seven long.

‘You'll be comfortable enough on your bed,' said Tibbie mischievously. ‘Mairi made it herself from fresh new heather. I've never known her take so much trouble over anything before. You should sleep like a newborn babe.'

S
UPPER WAS A very pleasant meal. Donnie returned to the fire in a better humour, and Tibbie refrained from criticising him about Seonaid Fraser. One of the older women sent across a generous jar of whisky ‘for the minister', and there was enough to be passed around among the four of them.

After the meal was over, Tibbie wearily announced that hard work, a meat supper
and
a prayer meeting were all too much for her to take in one day and she was going to bed. She had been gone only a few minutes when Donnie picked up his flintlock musket and said he would check the herd-boys. There had been a fox on the prowl for a few nights.

‘Has he really gone to check on the herd-boys?' Wyatt asked the question of Mairi when Donnie had gone.

‘He'll check every one,' confirmed Mairi, adding what Wyatt already knew: ‘Donnie's incapable of telling a lie. It doesn't mean he'll come straight back here, mind you….'

‘You're not as set against Seonaid as Tibbie is?'

‘Seonaid's no better and no worse than a girl with her background ought to be.'

‘You mean, because her mother committed suicide and she has a blind father to cope with?'

‘There's few up here in the mountains who believe Seonaid's mother committed suicide. Hamish Fraser could see well enough at that time to have followed his wife when she went off on one of her “visits” – or so I've heard said. But I'm only repeating gossip. As for Seonaid … I don't believe all I've heard, but I wouldn't care to see her marry Donnie. He deserves better.'

‘Does Donnie know of John Garrett's interest in the girl?'

Mairi's surprise was too great to keep hidden. ‘
You
know about that? You
have
worked hard on getting to know what's happening here, Minister Jamieson. No, I don't think Donnie's heard the rumours about Seonaid and the factor. If he has, he's dismissed them, just as he has all the other rumours about her. As far as Donnie's concerned, Seonaid can do no wrong.'

‘I've known far worse girls than Seonaid Fraser who've made very good wives….' Wyatt hesitated. ‘And I'd like you to call me Wyatt. I feel we know each other well enough for that.'

Wyatt's words gave Mairi a warm glow inside, but instead of allowing her feelings to show she said: ‘You must know a great many people “well”,
Minister Jamieson
. I seem to recall that you and Miss Garrett are on first-name terms.'

‘You have a wonderfully selective memory,
Mairi Ross
, but we were talking about your brother and Seonaid. No doubt the situation will resolve itself by next year when Donnie goes off with his brothers … for the sheep.'

‘What do you know of the sheep? Who told you?'

Mairi's questions came back too quickly, confirming the suspicion Wyatt already held. The sons of Eneas Ross had gone to the lowlands not to
buy
sheep but to
steal
them.

‘Your father told me only that your brothers had gone to bring back some sheep. The inference was they would be buying them, but I suspected the truth. When I was in Glasgow I heard talk about Highlanders reverting to the old ways. Raiding sheep-farms in the lowlands and bringing the animals back here with them.'

‘I'm not saying that is what the boys are doing but, if they are, who has the right to say they're doing wrong? The sheepmen come here to graze their sheep on the mountains, offering the landowners more money than they've ever seen before – on condition the crofters and cottars are cleared. They're stealing our lands, our homes, our whole way of life. Are we wrong to fight back?'

‘What your brothers are doing is not “fighting back”, Mairi. It's
stealing
, and stealing is wrong.'

‘So you side with the landowners? I should have expected it, I suppose. At first I thought … I
believed
you were different.'

‘I'm pointing out that stealing is wrong. It's against God's law and it's contrary to the laws of the land. The good Lord may be prevailed
upon to forgive sinners, but the law isn't so understanding, and it's the law I'm particularly concerned about right now. I told you I heard talk in Glasgow about sheep-stealing. It was said the government had agreed to use the militia to guard the flocks. What happens if your brothers come up against militiamen instead of unarmed shepherds?'

‘Do you really think they might?' Mairi's eyes were deep dark shadows in the firelight.

‘I think it's highly likely. Is it possible to go after them and bring them back?'

Mairi shook her head. ‘They've been gone too long. They're due back any day now.'

‘Then, I trust for everyone's sake they haven't been caught. A sheep-stealing raid originating on Kilmalie land would give Garrett all the excuse he needs to clear every tenant from these mountains.'

‘Ian's with them. He won't let them do anything stupid.' Mairi's words expressed more confidence than she felt. Ian, Tibbie's husband, liked to think things through before doing anything, but he would not be expecting militiamen to be guarding the lowland sheep.

‘I'll go home and have a word with Pa tomorrow. He'll know what can be done. Now I must take these dishes to the burn and clean them ready for the morning.' Mairi wanted something to take her mind off her concern for her brothers.

‘I'll carry them down to the burn for you.'

Mairi looked at Wyatt quizzically. ‘I hardly need help to carry four plates.'

‘All the same, I'll carry them.'

It was a moonless night, but the sky was liberally sprinkled with stars. These, coupled with the many cooking-fires dotted about the shielings, made progress to the stream easy. Along the way they passed a number of women returning, and Wyatt wondered whether it was his imagination that put a depth of meaning in their polite ‘Good night to you, Mairi. Good night, Minister'.

He knew it had not been imagination when Mairi said: ‘Your reputation will be in tatters after this … Wyatt.'

Main's use of his Christian name for the first time gave Wyatt a ridiculous sense of pleasure. ‘If that's true, you'll need to make an honest man of me and stop their tongues wagging.'

He regretted the weak joke as soon as he had made it. Mairi made
no reply and did not speak again until they were both kneeling in the darkness at the edge of the stream.

‘Is this what camp life was like when you were a soldier?' Mairi's soft-voiced question broke her long silence.

‘On the good nights, perhaps, although the company often left much to be desired.'

‘What of the women Ma has told me about?'

‘She remembers the Peninsular campaigns. My active service was spent in Africa. The few women who accompanied us there were left in a township on the coast.'

‘Has there never been a woman in your life?'

‘No one in particular. There
was
one, a distant cousin. I expected to see more of her when I returned from Africa, but she married and moved to America while I was away.'

‘Were you very upset?'

‘Not that I can recall. A little disappointed, perhaps, but by then I had my mind set on the Church.'

‘You're an unusual minister, Wyatt. Very different from Preacher Gunn. You can shoot, you take the side of the Highlanders – and you're not eager to condemn.'

‘We all have our own way of doing things. I've seen too much of life and men's weaknesses and strengths to think I know everything. I don't doubt that many of those who live in Eskaig wish they had a minister more like their last one.'

‘I like your way of doing things much better. You make God sound like someone
real
. Someone who
cares
. Preacher Gunn made Him sound like someone who was watching just so He could catch us out when we did anything wrong.'

Wyatt stood up and placed the plates on the grass while he wiped his hands on the kerchief he carried. ‘I learned about God from my father. He never doubted for one minute of his life that God cares deeply for each and every one of us. He was right, although it sometimes wasn't easy to believe when I watched men dying in agony on a battlefield.'

Mairi rose to her feet, too, and as she did so put a hand on Wyatt's arm. Whether it was an expression of sympathy, or because she felt herself slipping on the soft wet earth, was uncertain, but slip she certainly did. If Wyatt had not caught her, she would have fallen into the stream.

Regaining her balance, she laughed. When Wyatt made no move to release her she fell silent. When he drew her close she did not pull away. Then he was kissing her as he had never before kissed anyone, and she responded with an ardour that equalled his own. For a few minutes the lust of the flesh became a reality to the man of God.

Wyatt pulled back from her, his thoughts in a turmoil. ‘Mairi … I'm sorry.'

He was still holding her, and she said: ‘If you really feel you need to say sorry, then I'm sorry, too.'

‘I shouldn't have done that…. It wasn't right….'

Mairi pulled herself free of his grasp. ‘You needn't worry yourself. I won't tell anyone. Your reputation may be dented by what the other women are thinking, but that's all. Anyway, it was only a kiss….'

‘I don't care what anyone says or thinks about
me
. Right now I'd happily shout it from the pulpit that I've kissed you.'

Despite the darkness, Wyatt knew Mairi was smiling again.

‘I think that's the way I feel, too, so what is there to be sorry about?'

‘I didn't want it to
end
there, Mairi. I had thoughts I've never had before. Thoughts I stand in my kirk and preach against….'

Suddenly Mairi kissed him again, but she stepped back quickly before he could take hold of her. ‘I'm glad, Minister Wyatt Jamieson. It means you're human, the same as anyone else. I'd hate to grow overfond of a man who planned to become a saint.'

Before the import of her words had fully registered, they both heard a sound from nearby and fell silent instinctively. A minute or so later two people passed by at some distance, talking quietly. It was too dark to see any more than that the couple were very close to each other, but their low voices gave them away.

‘It's Donnie,' hissed Mairi.

‘And Seonaid,' agreed Wyatt.

‘I knew it! I knew they'd be up to no good if I didn't keep watch on them every minute of the day and night.'

‘Where are you going?' Wyatt caught Mairi's arm before she could hurry after the young couple who had now passed from hearing.

‘To find out what she's been up to with Donnie….'

‘Will you tell them what we were doing here when we heard them?'

‘Had they been doing no more, I wouldn't be concerned, but they've done more than kiss, or her name's not Seonaid Fraser.'

‘You don't know that, Mairi. Folk who saw us here might say the same about us.'

‘Oh, no! Donnie isn't a minister of the Church, and Seonaid Fraser isn't a Ross – nor will she be if I have anything to say about the matter. Come on, I've things to say to that young brother of mine.'

 

Mairi's questioning did not take place that night. Wyatt and Mairi were no more than halfway back to the cooking-fire when a shout went up from farther down the glen. It brought the occupants of the shielings running from their makeshift shelters. A fox, or probably two, had eluded the herd-boys and attacked a calf born only that evening. Before the boys drove off the attackers the calf's throat had been torn open, and the unfortunate animal lay gasping out its brief life on the turf.

The rumpus so frightened the other cattle that a number of them stampeded along the glen. They met the Highland women running towards the scene and split up, running in half a hundred different directions.

It was close to dawn before the last animal was returned to the shielings, and the moment of reckoning for Donnie Ross had been put off until another time.