Chapter 20: Isle of Dreams

Disclaimer: Diana Gabaldon owns all rights to Outlander

Things fell into a comfortable routine at the castle, until one day, Dougal came by while Jamie and I were lunching in the stable. With his brows knit together, the bumptious man spat, "Eat op, Lad. Colum wishes to have a word wi' ye." What now?

Standing, Jamie brushed away the bits of straw clinging to his kilt. "Weel, what does he want wi' me?"

Our impatient messenger frowned, and huffed, "If I kent what my brother wanted, then why would I need to send ye to talk to the man, aye?" Dougal turned and strode out of the stable, grumbling under his breath.

Maybe the matter had to do with something rather trivial, or just nothing at all, but it still made my heart beat faster.

Jamie grabbed the last of his food off the blanket that was laid out, then leaned toward me. "It's all right, Sassenach. If it was somethin' I did as was wrong, he'd no send Dougal to be tellin' me, but havin' me dragged to his study under guard, I expect.

# # # # #

In spite o' what I said to Claire, I was shakin' in my verra boots when I rapped my knuckles opon my Laird's door. What could he possibly wanta talk to me 'bout?

Colum's voice came from inside the room, "Ye needna stand on ceremony, Lad. Come in; I was expectin' ye."

My uncle, gestured to me, and bade me sit down. "Ye dinna be worrit, Jamie. I'm no here to chastise ye, on the contrary, I'm in need o' yer help."

"Help, ye say?"

"Aye. Ye've heard me speak o' Letitia's brother, Robert. Weel … he's in a bad way wi' the dropsy. I'd count it a blessin' if ye and the missus would go on op to the Isle o' Lewis and stay in the summer cottage there, as a favor to me. It's just a bit down the road from Robert, ye ken.

"What wi' Mistress Fraser bein' a healer, perchance she could ease his sufferin' somewhat. And I'd be most appreciative if ye could manage his place for him, as he canna do for himself."

I nodded, relieved that Colum put his trust in me. "I'll speak to Claire and see if she's willin' or no."

"Whether she's willin'? God, man, yer wife has no say in this. It is my pleasure as ye both go."

I stiffened at his harsh tone. "I suppose we'll be goin' then."

His eyes bored into mine, wi'out so much as a blink. "Aye, ye will."

"Why of course, I'll go. Why wouldn't I? It sounds as if Robert is suffering from congestive heart failure, and I have just the thing to assist him. The man certainly needs help, and if I can be of service then so be it."

Pacin' 'bout her surgery, I asked, "But what o' yer work here?"

Claire broke off some dried digitalis leaves from a bunch hangin' from the rafters, and began grindin' them to verra fine particles wi' a mortal and pestle. "You've seen Elspeth and Kate. I've been training them off and on since our return. They can both read, and I've scribbled notes in a ledger for reference. If they get into trouble, they can always send for Geillis. I hear she's very much alive. The rumor is that Dougal snatched her from off the scaffold. Heaven knows what that was all about, but I do have some theories."

Surprised I was, as she would let that name fall from her lips. Geillis! I sputtered, "Dinna mention that woman's name in my presence."

She ne'er looked op at me, but continued crushin' the leaves o' the foxglove in the mortar. "Oh, Jamie ... let bygones be bygones. It wasn't her fault that we were both accused of witchcraft. I was in the wrong place at the right time for her enemies to nab me. If anyone is to blame it's that bloody Father Bain. He hates me for besting him in healing that poor child. It was my word against his. He felt the miracle was of the devil—superstitious old fool."

Claire placed the pestle on the work table, and pointed across to the far wall. "Can you please hand me the small tin in front of that cabinet?"

"Aye."

I crossed the room, and pickin' op the wee container, returned to Claire, puttin' it into her outstretched hand. She smiled at me, and poured the contents o' the mortar into the tin, then brushed the remainin' powder from her fingertips. After washin' the poison off her hands in a thorough manner, she turned to me, and said, "I'm all done here. Shall we go see what Fitz has drummed up for dinner?"

# # # # #

I hoped I had enough digitalis to administer to Leticia's brother, along with a compound tincture of mugwort and horsetail. At any rate, there was bound to be an apothecary shop nearby in the event that my stores became depleted. In the meantime, I had three days to impart my knowledge to my apt pupils, as we were due to leave on Saturday.

Murtagh and Rupert helped us load a wagon with provisions, and our belongings the night prior to our departure. Bright and early on the appointed date, we were off to the Isle of Lewis with our two faithful guards tagging along as added insurance against unforeseen attacks from the watch, or any redcoats scouting the area.

Our gaggle of Highlanders traveled unmolested, taking a roundabout means through forest trails until we came to the coast. When we boarded the boat we chartered to ferry us to our destination, Murtagh and Rupert hugged us and that's where we parted company. They waved from atop their steeds, and curbed their horses, this time following the road back to Leoch.

Trom Laighe was skittish below deck. The poor beast had never been on an undulating surface before. Brimstone, though, seemed to be content enough, or at least wasn't as restless as her counterpart. I wondered, do horses get seasick? As for Jamie, he did indeed. When he wasn't vomiting over the side, he was retching with dry heaves. His face was a mask of a greenish hue, and despite the cool temperature, glistened with a sheen of perspiration across his brow. Thank goodness, the trip would last only eighteen hours or so.

I got him to sip on some hot water in which I mixed with a bit of ginger root that evening and the subsequent day. He was feeling less nauseated by the time we reached the port at the Isle of Lewis, and had no trouble unloading the vessel.

# # # # #

The cap'n directed us to a cartwright, where I paid for a wagon wi' the money Colum had given me to finance the trip. Claire stayed behind at the dock to watch o'er our possessions. I didna fancy havin' my belongin's snatched away from the likes o' some light-fingered thief. Anaways, it didna take me verra long, and so, I had the animals yoked and pullin' the cart in no time atall.

The proprietor o' the cartwright shop drew me a map so I could find Colum's summer cottage, and the Cameron estate as weel. We found both easily enough. Our new home was bigger than the one we lived in near Inverness, wi' land in the rear, a weel, a barn and a smoke house.

It took a fair bit o' doin' to unload the wagon, and so, after Claire and I finished puttin' op the lot o' it, I tended to the horses, then my Sassenach and I went to an inn where we supped. On our return, the moon was already high op in the dark sky, and we tumbled into bed, slippin' into a dream-state easy as ye please.

The next morn, I walked wi' Claire to the Camerons' home, to introduce my Uncle Robert to my wife. My aunt welcomed us into the house, and gestured to a stuffed chair where sat my uncle, lookin' a tad frail and sickly. He tried to stand, but I waved him off, and said, "No need to bother. I can see as ye're too weak to get op."

Wi' my arm about Claire's waist, I made the introductions, "This is my wife, Claire. Claire, this is my Uncle Robert Cameron, my Aunt Letitia's brother, and by his side is my Aunt Eithne.

"Colum sent me to help ye with the animals and such. And Claire is a verra accomplished healer. I expect she'll see to what ails ye."

I turned to Claire, and told her, "I'll leave ye to yer work then. I'll be in the barn, feedin' the pigs and cows."

# # # # #

Just as I suspected, Jamie's uncle exhibited symptoms of cardiac failure. The poor man was in such respiratory distress that he could not complete a single sentence without huffing and puffing. His countenance was a shocking ashen color, his thin brown hair hung limply about his face, and the light blue eyes had lost their sheen, now dull with exhaustion. Robert's feet and legs were grossly swollen, so much so that he could not put on his work boots, or walk for any length of time, with or without shoes for that matter.

I listened to the man's chest with a stethoscope that I commissioned a blacksmith to make for me months ago. What I wouldn't give for a more state of the art model—but unfortunately, I was forced to use what was available in this time period. Actually, his chest was so congested that it wasn't necessary to even implement the device. I could hear the gurgling rattle without it. He was literally drowning in his own pleural fluid.

It was with a great deal of regret that I was not proficient enough to tap his lungs, and thereby relieve the accumulation of the mounting fluid. As it was, I could only advise him and his wife to restrict the intake of salt in their diet, keep his legs and feet elevated and dose regularly with the digitalis leaf and diuretic tincture. Hopefully, the combination of this entire regime would remove the excess water his body was retaining.

Venturing to the place at intervals during the day, I administered the digitalis, thereby accomplishing a loading dose of the drug. By the end of that afternoon, Robert's lungs had improved dramatically, and some of the swelling in his feet had decreased as well. I felt a surge of satisfaction when he smiled, and thanked me for my care. Eithne stood by the chair, too overcome with emotion to speak.

When we returned to our own little cottage, Jamie, astounded by the dramatic recovery of his uncle, sputtered, "I do believe as ye might be a witch after all, but I love ye still."

We ate our dinner by candlelight, and then Jamie asked, "Will ye come wi' me for a wee bit? I'd like to look out o'er the cliffs, and share the view wi' ye."

The glow of the moon shone down on the softly waving swells of the ocean. As we gazed at the panoramic scene before us, Jamie took my hands. "Dance with me, Sassenach."

"There's no music, silly."

"Aye, true enough." He began to hum Moonlight Serenade. And there, in our own piece of heaven on earth, we danced to the music of our hearts.

The years slipped on by, and being on the Isle of Lewis, we were safe from the battle that raged in Scotland. We raised a family of our own little bairns … and love abounded forever after in the Fraser home.

The End

"We learn the dance steps wi' our minds, ye ken, but we hear the music wi' our hearts. The dance steps o' love are the things we do; the music o' love is the joyful spiritual feelin' as comes 'bout from bein' t'gether."

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser

Moonlight Serenade

I stand at your gate and the song that I sing is of moonlight
I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night
The roses are sighing a Moonlight Serenade

The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming
My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?
I bring you and I sing you a moonlight serenade

Let us stray till break of day in love's valley of dreams
Just you and I, a summer sky, a heavenly breeze kissin' the trees

So don't let me wait, come to me tenderly in the June night
I stand at your gate and I sing you a song in the moonlight
A love song, my darling, a moonlight serenade

SONGWRITERS
MILLER, GLENN / PARISH, MITCHELL