A Heartbeat Back to the Highlands

by Deborah R Stigall

  Looking up into the sky, Harley studied the moon as she lay back on the bank just above the water’s edge. “Maybe I could build a raft and float out to sea never to be seen again…off to a far away land where the love of my life awaits.”

  Speaking aloud she waited for the crickets to comment on her plan to improve her current state of affairs.

  “Yeah…I know…I’m dreaming again. But I’ve been this way all my life.” Dragging herself to her feet with a sigh, Harley walked to the water’s edge. Squatting, she picked up a piece of driftwood and drew in the sand just to watch as the water filled in the holes faster then she could dig them.

  Standing, she sadly stared at the driftwood in her hand; the strange knots and whirls making patterns with no beginnings and no ends. “I just wish there were some hope of this loneliness ending. I just wish there was someone out there for me.”

  Throwing the piece of wood as far out into the water as she could, she swallowed hard as she turned and climbed up the riverbank to her lonely bed.

  *******

  “Harley? What kinda name is that for a girl?” The newest resident to join the community room complained in a loud rude voice.

  “You leave Harley alone Jenkins or I’ll unhook the call light for your bed pan!”

  Bald-headed old Mr. Thomas shook his fist at the shriveled old man Harley was pushing along in the wheel chair. The newest resident to the senior citizens home, she was hoping he’d find a little company in the sunny dayroom.

  “Now Mr. Thomas, let’s be nice. Mr. Jenkins doesn’t know the story behind my name and I don’t mind telling it.” Harley positioned Mr. Jenkins in a spot beside the bay windows overlooking the pond where the geese were currently swimming with this year’s goslings. After locking down his wheels, she tucked the blanket around his frail knees to ensure he didn’t catch a chill.

  Pulling up a chair beside him, she straddled it with her long legs, propping her chin on its back as she prepared to tell her tale. “You see, Mr. Jenkins. My parents were married for many many years before I was born. As a matter of fact, they had just about decided that they were never going to be able to have children.”

  As Harley continued telling her tale, her deep golden eyes grew soft as she remembered the devotion her parents always had for each other. “In fact, they had so much decided they weren’t going to be able to have children that they bought a couple of Harley Davidson motorcycles and hit the open road. But apparently, the open road was exactly what they needed. Because after their first big run, my mother found out she was pregnant with me. Hence, my name…Harley.”

  Mr. Jenkins peered at Harley thru glasses so thick that his eyes were distorted by the lenses. “Well, that’s the damnedest thing I believe I’ve ever heard.”

  Winking one golden eye at him as she solemnly nodded, Harley slowly crossed her heart. “I swear. It’s the truth.”

  “Well just where are these parents now?” Mr. Jenkins wasn’t about to be out done and was determined that Harley realized just how miserable her life was…simply because of her inappropriate name.

  “The last phone call I got from them was from South Dakota. I’m not sure where they’re headed next. Once I grew up and moved out, they got the bikes out of storage and hit the open road again.” Smiling at Mr. Jenkins, Harley felt sorry for the old man…so miserable in his own existence that he was determined everyone else should be miserable as well.

  “So they’ve deserted you! I know how that feels. You can’t count on anyone but yourself!” The frail man sunk lower in the wheelchair, staring down at his hands lying helpless in his lap.

  Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Harley felt her heart pull as she watched the old man battle with the cruel reality of growing old and being tossed aside. Scooting her chair closer, she gently scooped one of his hands up into her own.

  “What did you used to do for a living, Mr. Jenkins? Why don’t you tell me about your life before you came to live here?”

  His eyes narrowing as he slowly looked up from his lap, Mr. Jenkin’s raised his chin defiantly. “Don’t placate me, girl….don’t you have something else you have to do?”

  Patting his hand, she leaned closer until her nose almost touched his. Meeting his glare with one of her own, Harley replied, “Mr. Jenkins, all I have to do is live until I die. Now start talking.”

  *******

  The wind barely kissed at the face of the water, kicking up white froth to lie like lace upon the deep blue surface. Glancing up at the sails in full swell, Dagun heaved a sigh of relief at the clear skies covering the horizon. Ronan might laugh at being tossed about like a child’s plaything. But Dagun could remember too many times when the sea had refused to give back the kinsmen it had claimed.

  Squinting his eyes against the angle of the sun, Dagun cocked his head as he studied his young captain. Something had been bothering Ronan of late, Dagun would bet his eye teeth on it. But no matter how many times he tried to find out what was going on behind those somber green eyes, Ronan always managed to turn Dagun’s attention elsewhere. Snorting to himself, Dagun rubbed the dark stubble of his chin as he thought maybe Ronan’s parents should’ve named him after the fox of the woods….rather than his youngest brother, Latharn.

  Sidling up beside Ronan as he stared across his beloved sea, Dagun leaned both arms against the wood railing. “Why do ye think your mother has summoned ye? Of all who know ye, she understands better then anyone that you are at your safest when you’re in the arms of your faithful sea.”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Ronan’s lips thinned into a grim line as his eyes scanned the horizon. “Who knows? She’s probably had a vision of some sort. With Mother, it’s difficult to tell.”

  Lightly tapping his thumbs together, Dagun stared down at the wide beam of wood fashioned to form the secure railing around the sides of the ship. Rubbing his hand lightly along the grain smoothed first by craftsmen and then by the forces of nature, he pursed his lips as he finally decided to force Ronan into confessing his soul.

  “Perhaps she’s seen whatever it is that seems to be troubling ye and she’s going to offer her help.”

  Mouth quirking to one side as he swiveled his gaze to stare down at his loyal friend, Ronan shook his head. “Ye can’t stand it can ye? It’s driving ye mad that ye can’t figure out what’s wrong. Ye’re as bad as ye were that time we made port in Dela Ruga and ye were trying to figure out if I’d bedded the Governor’s daughter.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Dagun turned to lean his back against the side of the ship. “Well, forgive me for being fool enough to care about my mate. The one man who’s life I just happened to save when he wandered into the wrong pub at the wrong time. The one man bound to the sea but who didn’t know his arse from a hole in the ground when it came to surviving in the ports. Far be it from me to force m’self on anyone. From now on, I’ll mind me own business and ye can do as ye will.”

  Ducking his head to hide his smile, Ronan stared down into the briny deep. “Do ye ever feel as though someone is calling out to ye? That ye’re supposed to be finding someone? Someone, who needs your help?”

  “Mother of God! I thought ye were safe from the MacKay curse since ye were the second of the three sons to come out o’ your mother’s womb?” Dagun’s eyes widened in horror as his arms fell to his sides.

  Shaking his head, Ronan stared into Dagun’s face, searching for the words to explain. How could he explain this nagging pull to Dagun when he didn’t even understand it himself?

  “No. I don’t think it’s the MacKay curse. It’s not a dream about a woman destined to be my mate. At least I don’t think it’s the curse. It’s nothing like Father went thru when he first found out that Mother was meant to be his wife.”

  Heaving a sigh of relief, Dagun’s dark brows rose clear to his hairline as he shook his finger in Ronan’s face. “Ye’d best be thankful for that small favor. I hear the clan still talks of how miserable your father was during that time.” />
  “Knowing Father, if he was miserable…so was everyone else. Anyway, it’s nothing like dreaming of a beautiful lass that I’m about to bed and canna touch. I feel a pulling toward somewhere unknown. It’s like a great sadness reaching out to me. But I don’t know where it’s from or who I’m meant to help.” Ronan worried with the bronze medallions hanging around his neck.

  “Well then, mayhap your mother can be of a help to ye. This sounds like something she could use her gifts to guide ye along your way.” Dagun’s brows knotted over his clear blue eyes. He’d only met Ronan’s mother one time. He’d been struck by her beauty but he’d not missed how the entire clan had treated her as though she were a powerful being they didn’t care to cross. Tales of her kindness and her ability to heal and ease pain had grown to the point of once again separating her from everyone.

  Ronan had told Dagun how the clan hadn’t exactly accepted a strange woman from the future with open arms. Especially, when this woman appeared in their century with the ability to do magic. They’d made her feel so unwelcome that Rachel had actually left to another realm for awhile, right before the birth of Ronan and his two brothers. She’d returned from her stay with the Goddess Brid barely in time to bless Caelan with triplet sons and promise never to leave him again.

  Since that time, the clan had learned what a kind and caring person Rachel MacKay could be….as long as none of her loved ones were ever threatened. If any threatened Caelan, her sons, or her daughter Aveline, they somehow just ceased to exist and no one had the nerve to ask what had become of them.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to tell her…or even if I’ll tell her anything at all.” Turning from the sea, Ronan glared fiercely at Dagun. “If she gets wind of this, there’ll be no peace for as long as we’re at dock. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Dagun?”

  Throwing his hands into the air, Dagun quickly nodded his head. “I’ll not be the one to tell the Mistress a word about her son’s melancholy. But if I had a sack full of coins to wager, I’d bet the Lady will know something is amiss as soon as she sets eyes upon your face.”

  “Aye…well, that’s why we’re taking the long way back to Scotland. I figure I can stall her for about another three weeks. But after that she’d best be seeing our sails upon the horizon.” Ronan wearily scrubbed the stubble on his face as he turned to retire to the Captain’s quarters.

  “By the way…..” Dagun followed closely behind, glancing around to see if anyone was within earshot. “Did ye bed the Governor’s daughter?”

  *******

  “He’s a new one and refuses to leave his room. I can hardly get him out of his bed to change his linens.” Rosa shook her head in worried irritation as she motioned toward the room at the end of the hall.

  “What’s his name?” Harley arched a brow in interest. She’d always loved a challenge.

  “Mr. MacCallen. He showed up here with a suitcase full of books about the sea and the clothes on his back.” Rosa pulled her tote from her shoulder and handed it to Harley. “I picked him up a change of clothes and some toiletries today with money from the general fund. It’s odd that he have enough money to secure a private room in this place but has only the one set of clothes with him.”

  “What about his family?” Harley pawed thru the tote bag, inspecting Rosa’s choices for the mysterious new resident.

  “As far as I can tell, he doesn’t have any. He won’t answer questions about friends or family, just stares out the window until you finally give up and leave him alone.” Patting Harley on the back, Rosa’s lips thinned into a grim line of determination. “You know as well as I do that if we don’t snap him out of it. He won’t be around for long.”

  Shaking her head grimly, Harley started toward the room. “I know. I hate it when they give up and decide to die.”

  Gently rapping on the door, Harley barely waited a polite few seconds before entering the room. “Good Morning Mr. MacCallen. My name’s Harley. I’m here to help you settle in.”

  The stone-faced old man lay curled to one side, staring blindly out the window. He’d once been a huge man, his bent and aging frame taking up the entire bed. His hair was shoulder length and that pure sparkling white that only a lucky few end up inheriting rather than the more common yellowish gray of advancing years. The beard on his face was also snowy white, making Harley think that Mr. MacCallen would’ve made a great Santa Claus if he’d but had the round belly to go with the rest of the traditional features.

  Rounding the bed so she could look him full in the face, Harley began pulling his purchases out of the bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a book with the most vivid pictures of the ocean lying open on the table beside the bed.

  Setting aside the bag and reverently picking up the book, Harley poured over the pages with open-mouthed interest.

  “This book is great. These photos of the sea are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

  “Do ye like the sea?”

  The deep rumbling voice startled Harley, nearly causing her to drop the book. Glancing up from the pages, she found herself staring into the darkest pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen in the face of an older man. With a slight smile, she nodded as she turned another page….going carefully so as not to send the old man retreating back into his silence.

  “Someday….I’m going to the ocean. Maybe even sail around for a few weeks just to enjoy the sea. I’ve always been drawn to the sound of the waves and if the rivers and lakes give me chills....I can only imagine what the sea will do.”

  “Be careful about waiting for someday, Lass. Before ye know it….all the someday’s of your life will be gone.”

  Slowly pushing himself up to the edge of the bed, Mr. MacCallen pulled another book out of the drawer. “This book shows the mighty ships that once rode upon the waves.” Watching Harley closely from beneath his snowy white brows, the elderly man’s eyes narrowed into calculating slits.

  “These look like the pirate ships that are always in the movies. I wonder what it would be like to be on a ship like that? Do you think you could actually spend your life on a ship that size?” Harley perched on the edge of the chair, lightly tapping her finger on the picture of a tall masted ship.

  “Aye…ye could spend a lifetime on the open waves if ye had a ship such as this.” Stretching to slowly turn the page, MacCallen tapped the photo with a shaking finger.

  “Here’s where the captain’s quarters would be on this ship. See what a fine balcony was built so the Captain would always have a view of the horizon?”

  Leaning closer to study the picture, Harley almost swore she could hear the sound of gulls crying out in the salty breeze. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes as she imagined the wind on her face, the warm sun overhead and the sound of waves lapping against the creaking boards of the ship.

  “Ye must go to the sea. I can tell by the look on your face that you’re one of us.”

  Opening her eyes, Harley frowned in confusion. “One of us?”

  Pressing his lips tightly together as though he wished he could take back his words, MacCallen shook his head as he lay back on the bed. “Never mind...ignore the rumblings of a tired old man.”

  Cocking her head to one side, Harley gently closed the book as she studied the weary face of the aged man lying before her. “Did you spend your life on the sea? Tell me about yourself, Mr. MacCallen. Tell me about before you came here to Pleasant Oaks.”

  “Maybe some other time, Lass. I’m tired.” Turning his back to Harley, MacCallen covered his eyes as he curled over onto his side.

  Chewing her lower lip, Harley carefully pulled a light blanket up over the weary man’s shoulders. There was something more to Mr. MacCallen then met the eye. She could feel it. It was almost as though there were some sort of energy pulsating around him. As though he were an enigma sent for her to solve.

  “Well….take a nap for now. But I’ll be in later this afternoon and we’re going to get you out of that bed and wander around the
place a bit. It’s not good for you to lay curled up in this room all the time.”

  MacCallen ignored Harley’s words, lying silent with his hand resting over his eyes. She could tell by the rise and fall of his chest that he’d heard her and wasn’t asleep. She’d been working in the senior facility long enough to recognize that she was politely being dismissed.

  Glancing back to the still form lying beneath the covers, Harley shook her head as she quietly closed the door. Nodding in determination, she silently came to the conclusion that Mr. MacCallen would prove to be her greatest challenge yet.

  *******

  As soon as he heard the click of the closing door, MacCallen slowly turned to make sure he was in fact alone. Sitting up, he propped the pillow behind his back as he reached into his shirt pocket. Opening his fist as he drew it forth, he smiled as he gently caressed the glowing stone in the center of an ornate locket.

  “Finally. I’ve finally found her.”

  Carefully prying open the golden locket, MacCallen gently blew across the mercury-like interior. “She’s the one. Did ye see how she reacted to the books we chose?”

  The locket seemed to glow and shimmer emitting a faint blue light as he held it open in his hands. An airy voice, as light as a feather and as musical as a wind chime rose from the swirling surface of the locket’s interior.

  “She loves the sea even though she’s ne’er been touched by the waves. I saw the longing in her golden eyes. But is she the one who’s been calling? Is she the one who’s loneliness we’ve been hearing?”