Sneaks

by B Button

  “Over that direction is where ye came from.” He pointed. “We’re going this way today. I hope to find some of the horses that got away yesterday, so keep yer eyes open.”

  I doubted I could tell one horse from another but I said, “Okay.”

  “And there,” he pointed, “is the market.”

  It wasn’t far away but we’d have to travel down the other side of the hill we’d climbed.

  “Are we going to stop?” I wanted off the horse, even for a minute or two.

  “Aye.” Mac steered the horse down the hill and stopped right outside the market. He helped me down and I tried not to look too ridiculous as tried to get the feeling back to my lower body parts.

  There were lots of people walking around the small village that looked to be straight out of an old storybook. There were straw huts and a number of carts in two lines, keeping a wide aisle in between. From these, people sold food, clothing or herbs.

  “Is this where Una gets the vegetables?” I asked.

  “Some. Many things are delivered to the castle. But I know she insists on coming here for eggs. The castle has never been able to produce good hens.”

  Mac picked up two pears and handed one to me. He pulled coins out from a pouch on his kilt and handed them to the man tending the fruit cart. The man, though his teeth were horrible, had a happy face and very blonde, curly hair.

  “Thank ye, my lord,” he said to Mac.

  Everyone smiled at us as we walked by and looked at their items.

  I didn’t know if they really liked Mac and his family or if they felt like they had to be friendly. Did being a member of the laird’s family make him intimidating?

  “Mac, do you know where and how I found you?” I asked as we looked at a cart full of feathers.

  “Aye. I had been taken from my mother’s death bed and left in the woods.”

  “Why would someone have done that?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno, lass. Used to drive Da crazy. He wanted his due vengeance.”

  “But he never got it?”

  “No. He still doesn’t ken who took me.”

  The market was small, filled with the necessities of the day, but the final table went beyond needs, to wants. The vendor sold jewelry, most of it made of rope and twine strung through some sort of metal piece. There were bracelets and necklaces, really pretty stuff even though it was primitive.

  The vendor was an old woman with long gray hair that fell down over small shoulders and to her lower back. Every inch of her face was wrinkled.

  I glanced at the table of items. Back home, I wouldn’t have been allowed to own any of the jewelry. I’d spent the last year hiding the globe pendant from everyone, but even in the black market there wouldn’t be a table with jewelry for sale. Why sell it if wearers had to hide it? I’d been angry before about life in my time - all the restrictions, the laws, no real choices. Seeing the table full of jewelry made me angry again. I suddenly hated the thought of restrictions. Women might not have equality in 18th century Scotland, but at least they could wear whatever jewelry they wanted to wear.

  Pulling me from my thoughts, the old woman gasped and put her fingers to her neck.

  “What is it?” Mac asked.

  “Yer pendant. It is beautiful.” She pointed at my neck.

  “Thanks.”

  “I ne’r seen one like it,” she said. “Trade ye something for it?”

  “No. It means . . . I want to keep it.”

  “Are ye certain? I would trade ye many things.”

  “No.” I put my hand over the pendant.

  “Aye, I supposed ye wouldna. Lad, ye ought to buy something for the lass.” she said.

  “No. No, I’m good,” I said.

  The old woman didn’t say anything, just wagged her finger and then pointed at one of her bracelets as she smiled at Mac.

  “I dinna think she’s quite ready for that, but I’ll be back,” he said to the vendor as he avoided my eyes.

  “Verra weel. Come back when she’s ready.” The old woman turned and hunch-walked into her small hut.

  I wanted the awkward moment to pass. I looked at him, smiled and shrugged.

  He smiled too, but didn’t seem uncomfortable.

  “Master MacCauley, is that ye?” another vendor called.

  “Aye, it is,” he said, but he kept his eyes on mine.

  The vendor was the man Una bought her eggs from. He and Mac conducted their conversation mostly in Gaelic so I took the time to look around. This 18th century Scotland was so different than my own time that I wasn’t even sure how I would live if I chose to stay for awhile. The laird probably wouldn’t kick me out of the castle, but maybe he would. Maybe, if I was here, I’d want to live on my own anyway. Have my own . . . what? Apartment? I didn’t think apartments existed in this time and place.

  “Are ye ready to go?” Mac asked me when he and the egg vendor were done.

  “Uh, sure,” I said. I didn’t want to get back on the horse, but we’d gone up and down the market aisle and there wasn’t anything else to look at.

  Mac helped me up on the horse again. I leaned into him a bit more this time, finding just the right spot for the back of my shoulder to fit in his chest. I was doing it for my comfort, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “How do ye feel, Kally?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Mac laughed. “Ye really dinna ride much do ye?”

  “No, but this isn’t so bad.”

  “How was the pear?” he asked.

  “Good.”

  “Una packed us some bread and milk. Tell me when ye’re hungry for lunch.”

  I nodded and said, “So, tell me about Ian and Maisie. When did they get married?”

  “Let’s see. I guess they’ve been married for about ten years. They have two bairns, one, a girl named Bethia, is three and the other a boy named Donnan, is two.”

  “I’d like to meet them. I didn’t know they had kids.” And for some reason, it didn’t bother me. In fact, the whole idea of him married with kids suddenly didn’t bother me at all.

  “I can’t believe ye havena. They’re true wee monsters,” he said with a smile to his voice. “They make lots of noise. Wee Bethia was ill when she was first born, we thought we’d lose her, but an old woman named Berna came and fixed her with some terrible smelling concoction.”

  “Really?” I sat up. The top of my head hit Mac’s chin. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Aye,” Mac said as he rubbed his chin.

  “Mac, I know Berna.”

  “Aye, of course ye do. That’s where Corc found ye the first time. I should have remembered.”

  “Found us,” I said.

  “Aye.”

  “She cured Bethia?”

  “Yes.”

  “I saw Berna recently, Mac. She might need someone to check in on her.”

  “Why?”

  “She didn’t seem well.”

  “I’ll have someone ride to her place today or tomorrow.”

  “Good plan. I wish I would have told you sooner.”

  Suddenly, I smelled something different.

  “Mac, what smells so good?”

  Mac sniffed. “I dinna ken. Or, maybe it’s the ocean breeze. Maybe.

  “Do we have time to see it? I’ve never seen an ocean.”

  “How is that possible, Kally?”

  I shrugged.

  “My father’s land ends not far from here. We’ll have to look from a distance.”

  “Why, does someone own the ocean?”

  “No, but someone owns the land next to it. The laird of that land wilna welcome us for a visit.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged me. “He and Da dinna get along.”

  “A feud?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What happened?”

  “Land, it’s always about land. That or a pretty girl. Right now, this one is about land. For a while Da didna care and practically gave the land away, but Ian kept up the fight.
Ian probably saved many things and many of us.”

  “And what do you know of pretty girls?” I asked.

  “I ken everything there is to ken about pretty girls,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “What of it? What do ye ken about boys?”

  “Not one thing.”

  Mac laughed. “I doubt that.”

  I was silent. I didn’t want to tell him that in less than a year I would chose a husband, someone I wouldn’t meet until right before I had to make the choice. Before we got married, I would spend less time with him than I already had with Mac. That was all I knew about boys, except that in my time no girl who wasn’t married sat as close to one as I was to him.

  When I didn’t say anything more, he said, “How do ye feel about younger men?”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks.

  Mac cleared his throat. “Ye ken that last time ye were here, Ian wanted to court ye?”

  “We were friends.”

  “How did ye feel about . . . all that?”

  “I was very glad we were friends. I missed him—I missed you all—when I left.”

  “I hope ye and I become …” I held my breath as I waited for his next words. “Verra good friends.”

  I tried to keep my lungs quiet as they released the air. “I do too.”

  “But we havna known each other verra long, have we? If ye dinna count all the years in between.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe sometimes it doesna take all that long.”

  After a long, heavy pause, I said, “No, sometimes it doesn’t.”

  As the horse took us up and over another hill, I saw another castle. It was smaller than the Duncan castle. There was a small drawbridge over a moat. The front courtyard was large and filled with vegetables and flowers planted in even rows. And the castle was as close to the ocean as you could get and not be floating on it. The blue from the sky and the ocean and a salty ocean breeze made it seem like we’d stepped into yet another world.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Aye,” Mac said, hesitantly.

  “I meant the ocean. The castle isn’t as wonderful as yours. But the ocean is . . . I’ve never seen anything like it.” It seemed to go on forever. It made me feel small and big at the same time.

  “Perhaps.” He’d probably seen it a million times. “We’ll walk along the side of the cliff, but we wilna get too close to the castle.”

  The closer we got to the edge, the better I could hear the water crash up against the rocks and cliffs below us. The sound was powerful but not scary. I wanted to listen to it all day.

  “Are ye hungry?” Mac asked.

  “Sure.” I wasn’t but I didn’t want to leave the ocean yet. Eating would give us an excuse to sit – off the horse.

  Mac parked the horse and unfolded the quilt. We were right on the edge of the cliff and the view was both amazing and horrifying. My stomach dropped every time I looked down, but I couldn’t stop doing it.

  We could only see part the other castle, but Mac kept looking toward it as we set up lunch.

  He handed me bread, meat and water with the manners of someone much older than sixteen. I thought to myself that sixteen for him wasn’t the same as it was for me. It suddenly occurred to me that he probably had dated.

  I stopped chewing on the bread and stuffed it in my cheek.

  “Mac?”

  “Aye?”

  “What about you? Do you have a girl . . . a girlfriend?”

  The smug look that flashed across his face was slightly irritating. “I wondered if ye were going to ask.”

  “Do you?”

  He shook his head. “No, Kally, I havna got a girlfriend. Not now.”

  “But you did?”

  “Not really.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was supposed to have a … a girlfriend. Actually, I was supposed to be married to her the summer next.”

  “Oh?” The ocean was suddenly not so pretty and the bread not so tasty.

  “Aye. It was arranged.” He looked toward the castle. “There’s a young lass over there. Ian thought it would help mend the ways between my father and Lennox.”

  I should have choked on the large lump of bread I swallowed whole.

  “Lennox?” I asked, my heartbeat speeding up.

  “Aye. Do ye ken them?”

  “I . . . uh . . .”

  “Kally?”

  “Oh. Uh, no, I don’t know them.”

  “What just happened with ye? Ye looked as though yer very spirit was being spun about in a circle.”

  “So, the girl – you’re not going to marry her?”

  “No, I said I wouldna. She’s a fair lass, to be sure, but I just …”

  “Her father, he’s the Mr. Lennox?” I thought back to the dance and remembered the man holding a baby.”

  “Mr.? I’m dinna understand, but Isla is Ivar Lennox’s daughter.”

  I stood and turned toward the sea and away from Mac’s increasingly curious glance. Mac was supposed to marry the daughter of the man who looked like my father. Something even weirder than traveling through time was happening, but I didn’t understand what it was.

  “Kally?” He said gently as he stood behind me. “Are ye all right?”

  “Why didn’t you want to marry her?”

  “I dinna ken how to explain it, Kally. I just couldna. It wasna my choice, it was arranged.”

  Mac and I had both supposed to marry someone we didn’t want to marry. He’d gotten out of his. I wished it was that easy for me.

  “Why does this bother ye?”

  I turned “It doesn’t. I just think you should never marry someone you don’t love.”

  “To be sure.” Mac reached up and thumbed away a tear from my cheek. I didn’t know any had fallen. “Why are ye crying, lass?”

  “I’m not. It’s just the ocean. Making my eyes water.”

  For a second I thought about telling him about my upcoming marriage, about what happened in my time. I wanted to tell him so badly that I could feel the words in my mouth, but I was distracted

  “Mac, someone’s coming.” Two people were approaching from behind him.

  He turned and mumbled something in Gaelic as the men rode toward us.

  “Should we go?”

  “No, I’ll no run from them, Kally. They willna hurt ye. If something happens to me, take the horse back to the castle and let Ian ken.”

  “Something happens to you? What could happen?”

  “Just stay behind me.”

  The two men were actually a man and a young boy, maybe ten years old or so. The boy handled his horse just as well as the man. They were a large and small version of each other, both of them with dark hair and eyes, and tanned skin. They were dressed in yellow and black kilts and loose-fitting shirts that were similar to what Mac currently wore. They rode to us and stopped only a few feet away from Mac.

  “Duncan, what are ye doing on the land?” the man asked. The boy scrunched his face to match the adult’s scorn.

  “Eating.”

  “Do ye not think ye should have asked first?”

  Mac looked around and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I think this land is available for anyone to have a meal upon. We’re not trespassing on any private property.”

  “Do ye not think we’ve gone over this enough times, Duncan?”

  “In fact, I think we’ve gone over it too many times.”

  The man looked at Mac and then back at me. Mac stepped sideways to keep me better covered. I peeked around him. The memories I had of the pictures of my father might have been fuzzy and old, but I was certain this man and the boy, looked like him.

  “Who’s yer friend?”

  Mac puffed out his chest and crossed his arms more tightly if front of it. He was not going to introduce me and I wanted to meet them. I nudged Mac’s back, hoping he’d get the hint.

  He looked at me and then said, “May I present Mistress Bright. Mistress,
this is Ivar Lennox and his son Kirk.”

  “Hello,” I said as I stepped around Mac. I held my hand out for Ivar Lennox to shake.

  “Aye?” He seemed perplexed. “What did he say yer name was?”

  “Kally. Kally Bright.”

  His eyes widened as he looked at me and then at Mac and back to me again.

  “Kally Bright?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “Mac?”

  Mac shrugged, but kept both his glance and stance firm.

  “Ye are Kally Bright?” he asked me.

  “Yes.”

  He looked at me a moment, looked at Mac, looked at the boy and then finally back at me. And then he laughed. “I dinna believe ye, Mac, my lad, but ye surely got my attention.”

  Mac remained statue-like.

  “Finish yer food and off with ye then. If ye are indeed Kally Bright, I’ll not want to be crossing ye anytime soon. Ye are welcome on my land any time.”

  “Uh, thank you,” I said. “But why?”

  “Come along, Kirk, let’s be off then. We’ll have a fine story to tell yer sister.” The man and the boy turned and rode away. I could hear his laugher for some time.

  “What was that, Mac? How does he know me, or know my name?”

  “Everyone kens Kally Bright. I wish I’d thought of that sooner. I’d have told him ye were going to bewitch him if he didna leave us alone.” Mac smiled.

  “What?”

  “No, not really. It would’ve been fun to see though. The story of how ye saved me is a popular story. I suppose . . . och, no. Come on. We need not be concerned. Come finish eating.”

  I stared at the man and the boy as they rode away. Lennox had been intrigued by my name, but not because he was my father. Why was I supposed to meet him? I wished Berna had had her wits about her.

  “He’s angry because you wouldn’t marry his daughter?” I asked.

  “Aye, he’s none too happy with me for a number of reasons. His daughter is just one of them.”

  I was torn between running after them, breaking the chain on the necklace, running back to Berna, and staying right where I was.

  “What is it, lass?”

  “Nothing.” I chose staying where I was.

  *****

  “Did we go in a circle?” I asked as we came upon the castle.