It has been over two weeks now. Jamie and Murtagh are getting stronger. Healing. Jamie's leg had received the more severe wound out of the two of them but it had responded well to treatment and is healing cleanly and quickly. It is partly due to the fact that I threatened to withhold child visitations if my husband did not follow 'his healers' instructions verbatim. Murtagh wounds are not nearly as critical as Jamie's leg but Murtagh does have several of them, all fairly equal in severity. Plus the bullet wound to his shoulder just will not heal properly. It needs constant attention. Daily. I am cleaning it every morning and every night and yet it is always weeping puss.

Jamie finally asks to see the bullet. He looks it over, turning it in his fingers then stops and utters an "Ah". Both Ian and Murtagh come over to look and the results are two more "Ah's".

"What?" I ask. "Why the 'Ah's?"

"See the scoring across the top, Sassenach? The 'X'?" He asks me. Jenny and Fergus walk over to take a look also.

"Yes," I say. "What of it?"

"That 'X' usually indicates a dirty bullet. Someone has marked it," Jamie says.

Jenny must have looked confused because Ian adds, "A dirty bullet is exactly what it sounds like it is. Someone scored the bullet on purpose then rubbed manure into the groves. That way, when the bullet enters the body, so does the excrement and you will die from the fever you will get from the wound. Even a graze from a bullet wound becomes deadly with a dirty bullet. When Jamie and I served as Mercenaries in France, this kind of thing was pretty common."

I had heard a story of this sort of thing from a doctor I served with during the war. He was always very careful to look at the bullets after the surgery was over. He would step up the antibiotics regiment if he found a modified bullet. I had thought he was just being a bit paranoid. I guess not. Some things never change. War truly is 'dirty'.

We needed to get the kids to bed so the adults could talk about the latest news. Word was that the British Soldiers had been seen in Inverness. They were getting closer. We were working on a plan but we could not all agree and now we would need to step up our agenda. We needed to be away from Lallybroch, all signs of us erased, before the British came calling.

Early on Jamie said we really only needed to find somewhere for Murtagh and himself, but one look at my face told him that was not going to happen; where you go, I go I told him once and for all. A decision had to be made tonight. If the original "Laird of Broch Tuarach" was found alive and living at Lallybroch, that would not bode well for Estate. The Deed of Sasine would be ignored. The British would have no qualms taking the land, everything and possibly everyone on it. Not to mention that "Red Jamie's" capture would be a celebrated event and I was not about to lose my husband to a hangman's noose.

Most of the ports were closed by the British Army now. The few that were still open were carefully watched. People coming in and and going out were scrutinized. Papers were closely examined, refused and people were being arrested and placed in prison without trials; Lairds and known Jacobite's, like Jamie, were going straight to the gallows all so the British Army could confiscate the land. There was no way to flee to Paris and cousin Jared. Thinking of Prince Charles made my blood boil; word was he was safely back in Italy. He had gotten out, fleeing like the coward he was leaving brave Scotsmen dead, imprisoned or in hiding. He had absolutely no honor.

One idea we had thought about was to try to travel into England and find a cottage or an Estate that might be looking for someone good with horses. To hide amongst the enemy, so to speak. Even with a wife of English birth, the risks for Jamie were too great. Jenny would not hear of it. She had lost her mother, father and two brothers, she was not going to loose Jamie as well. No, he needed to stay near, so that if he needed help, she could be there for him.

There was talk of a plan to take a cottage by the sea. If the soldiers came, Jamie and Murtagh could simply slip into a small fishing boat and row out to sea until the coast was clear. A lantern could be lit to signal the all clear. Jenny had never sailed with Jamie or she never would have suggested it.

I had told Jamie about during my war, how the Jews had been singled out and hunted by the Nazi's. If they were found, they were put in large prisons, where most of them were killed. There were kind people, willing to risk their lives to try and protect them. They would hide entire families in secret rooms in their homes behind secret panel doors. Some lived that way for years before being discovered. Lallybroch had no such secret rooms. The priest's hole was only large enough for two people.

There had been the idea of moving into one of the tenants cottages and posing as one of Lallybroch's 60 odd tenant farmers. But Jamie thought Lallybroch would be a prime target for the British and that the British soldiers might visit frequently in an attempt to gain control over the Estate, at least in the beginning. Jenny and Jamie shared enough physical similarities that if they were ever caught together, even under the guise of Landlord and tenant, the British Army would know who Jamie was, plain and simple. As much as we wanted to believe it, none of us could suppose the British Army was dim witted enough not to recognize "Red Jamie". Plus the tenants all knew Jamie; they knew and loved him as a lad and as their Laird. Their children had grown up knowing him as well. There was a chance that one of them would slip up somehow and expose Jamie, unwittingly. And if the soldiers caught Jamie on Fraser land, then Lallybroch would be taken and the Murray's homeless and/or in prison. So Option A was definitely not an option.

We had thought we might try the same thing, a tenants cottage somewhere else, perhaps closer to Broch Mordha. As a healer it might give me the possibility to earn a small supplemental income. I had reminded Jamie of his comment of leading a life of leisure after I had helped the cotter we'd met while on the road years ago. Living close to a town might provide the kind of traffic that would allow for that. It did, however, expose Jamie, and Murtagh, unnecessarily to untrustworthy types that might recognize them and turn them in for the reward money we knew was being offered for Jamie's capture. Also the closer to town, the increase in British soldier sightings and possible visits. So living in or near Broch Mordha, Option B, was out of the question.

All those had been ideas suggested, discussed and quickly ruled out. There were several other options still not ruled out. They were similar but deciding which was the best was tonight's vote. Basically Jamie, Murtagh, I and the children if possible, needed to be off Fraser land, and soon.

Ian had suggested a cave, not far from here. Jamie and Murtagh could stay there, at least until the British Visitation Schedule was learned. I did not like that idea at all. Fall would be here before we knew it and Winter would not be far behind. I would not have my husband sleeping anywhere without me, and I let it be known that I had no intention of sleeping this winter in a cold, dark cave, thank you very much. Especially with a small child and in the advanced stages of pregnancy or even after the birth, with a small infant. Jamie had just laughed at how emphatic I was about ruling out the cave. I actually think he thought it might have been a good plan. Men. Option C most definitely out.

Once the children were nestled all snug in their beds, stories told, kisses passed out, fires banked and candles put out, the adults all rendezvoused in the Laird's study. Drams were poured all around and Jamie told us his latest scheme.

Angus McLeod, the blacksmith that had been responsible for Jamie and Murtagh's passage back to Lallybroch after Culloden, lives in Broch Mordha. His blacksmith shop is set up on the edge of town and he lives there with his wife and bairn. His folks had passed away several years ago and he has kept the small place located close to Lallybroch land, in the foothills. Jamie knew Angus traveled back to the farm every once and awhile to keep gypsies or beggars from settling there or someone or something from stealing his livestock. He was sure Angus would be agreeable to letting us stay there; to keep an eye on things for him. He would just need to speak to the him to make arrangements. I wanted to see it first before making any decisions.

We sent Fergus the next morning on Blue to deliver a message to Angus McLeod. He sent back a note to met him the next morning at the gate to the farm.

It was decided that it would be more discreet and attract less attention if it was just Jamie and I rather than our entire extended family that came to meet Angus. It was almost three miles from Lallybroch and just under six from Broch Mordha. Jamie wanted to walk rather than ride, to work at strengthening his leg. It was healing well, but this would be the farthest he had walked since his return from Culloden and I did not want him to overextend himself. I had Fergus saddle Blue and we lead him along with us. If Jamie tired we could just ride the rest of the way. Jamie's wound was also being rubbed by the breeks he now had to wear instead of his kilt. He still had all twenty stitches that the pants rubbed. I was not going to let my hard headed husband break open that leg wound again. Healers orders I told Jamie or Blue and I would go alone.

We stopped at the gate of a field that holds a small herd of Highland cattle; those beautiful red shaggy beasts with such sweet faces and great long horns. There was also a flock of Blackface sheep and a handful of goats, all grazing amongst each other. They cautiously watched us. There are two dogs that look similar to a modern border collie, only they are red like the cattle.

There is a sudden, shrill whistle. We turn and see Angus approaching on a very large draft horse and the dogs immediately come to meet him at the gate. I think Jamie can barely look over the back of this beautiful bay horse and could not help but admire the animal and his feathered hooves. It had to be at least 18 hands high. A beast, if ever there was one. Even Angus had to use the fence to dismount.

"Meet "Miss Molly and Theo" Angus introduces us to the dogs as they sit at Angus' feet. He opens a brown sack and takes out two large joint bones and hands one to each of the dogs. They grab them and take off running. My eyes follow them. They run to what looks to be the remains of a cottage that has been burnt to the ground.

"That was my parent's house, the one my sister, two brothers and I grew up in," Angus says. "There was a fire two years after my parents passed away. Probably gypsies passing through. Since my family and I live in Broch Mordha, I never bothered to rebuild it and I have the dogs to keep the beggars away and protect the herd. Now the goats climb the walls and sheep use it for shelter when the wind blows," he says completing his thought.

I turn a full circle and see no signs of another cottage and turn and give my husband a questioning look.

"Your husband spoke to me about the use of my Grandfather's home, Mistress Fraser," Angus answering my unasked question.

I look again. There is a small lean-to shelter and a covered trough feeder off to one side. I scan the field once more and see nothing else, except one rather large apple tree, certainly no other cottage. At the far end of the property, if you follow the fence line as it disappears into a line of trees at the base of a small ridge running east-west. We walk toward the back of the field toward the ridge. About 10 yards from the line of scrub trees, Angus and Jamie stop walking. Jamie stands with his hand folded across his chest watching me to see what I do. Games is it? I am a master at solving puzzles. I smile at him in answer to his challenge.

I hand him Blue's lead and Jamie bends down, hobbles and releases him to graze with Angus' beast.

"Do I hear running water?" I ask looking at Angus.

He smiles and turns to Jamie and says, "A smart lass, aye. She can listen. Can ya smell the water too?"

I sniff. "Yes, I can smell a wetness, rotting wood and moss maybe? I also feel the dampness. I never really thought about those senses being involved before. Very interesting." I turn and smile at Jamie. He gives me one of his 'owl' winks. "Does the stream run all the way to the west to the ocean, I wonder?" I ask myself out loud. "Where there is water, there is a house…is that what you are telling me?" I ask turning back to Angus.

"You tell me," he says and moves to stand next to Jamie.

"Alright, no hints then, I shall find it myself. It must be here, near the water…" I state as I walk toward the tree line, placing my hand on a rather large rock. I know we must be close or we would not have stopped here. I turn and walk east some two hundred yards and see nothing that resembles a trail of any kind. I turn walk back, allowing my hand to drag lightly over the rock as I pass it, and continue west all the way to the fence line, about one hundred yards. Nothing that resembles a trail that way either. I walk back and stand next to Jamie and look up and down the treeline. What am I missing? Eureka! There it is, a marker, or at least what I think is a trail marker. The rather large rock, which is over seven feet tall and almost as wide right at the start of the tree line; it is the proverbial 'X' that marks the spot, I'm sure of it. The rock is rather inconspicuous for such a large object; its natural colors meld into the landscape and you don't really notice it at all. Your eye skips right over it as you pan the tree line; it is hidden in plain sight. I walk to it, placing my hand on the stone and circle back around the north side of it and behind it is what I am certain is a very discreetly marked path. Smaller rocks of various shapes and sizes are scattered every five to six yards and I follow them. I must be correct for I hear Jamie laughing and someone slapping someone on the back.

At the end of the winding, secret path you meet with a dead end in the form of the rock face of the ridge. Nothing again. There are trees and what looks like wild raspberry bushes. After walking left and right I find what I am looking for. There is another sizable rock, about four feet in height. It looks like it came loose and rolled down the side of the rock face. I turn and walk passed it and no more than six yards and because there is another rock right there, I find a ledge that leads up. I would have completely missed it if it were not for the rock and that I was looking for them. With an uphill climb that includes two switchbacks, the cottage is suddenly right in front of you; built right into the side of the hill. 'Ledaig' or Safe Haven is the name Angus' grandmother had named it, Angus said. I turn around, putting my back to the cottage and look straight into tree tops. I can barely see the field. I have to bend and move my head to find a view through the branches. We are at least another one hundred yards behind the 'X' rock and completely hidden from view. I look down the face of the ridge and I will take a guess and say we are at least eighteen feet up. I am in awe. How in the world did anyone ever find this place, let alone build it?

The front is very similar to a rock wall; it is set back inside something like a cave opening so there is a small protective ledge over the doorway. The face is made of various shapes and sizes of stacked and mortared rocks with a small window on either side of the door. There is a "rock bench", under one window. The door is really quite clever; it's round, well not really round, more like an upside down horseshoe and made of weathered wood with the same colors as the rocks. Oak maybe? And it does not attract your eye because it is not the strong, right angles of a regular front door; it does not fight nature but rather works with it. The windows are unusual as well and mimic the rocks colors. The windows use what looks like the bottoms of glass bottles, in assorted colors, in an octagonally shaped pattern, only with rounded, softer edges because of the roundness of the glass bottles. I am standing there admiring the workmanship when I hear the men approach and I feel Jamie's arms surround me and he rests his chin on my shoulder. I pat his arm with one hand and my other reaches up and finds his cheek and rests there. He moves his face and places a light kiss on my palm then turns back to face the house. His hand drops down an inch from my waist and spreads across my slightly pooching belly. Our little secret still because it's too soon for me to be showing enough that anyone would notice. Not yet four months by Jamie's count; the baby should come in November.

"Smart and beautiful. James Fraser, you are a lucky man," Angus says with a laugh in his voice.

Jamie moves my hair from the side of my neck and kisses me there as well. "Aye" he says in agreement. "That she is. I think I shall keep her," and he quickly releases me, skirts around my hand that tries to slap him as he lands a pat on my ass, runs to and opens the door, bowing and exclaiming, "ladies first." I pat his cheek as I enter.

The house is not as small as it appears from the outside. The main room is a decent size. Jamie's is 6' 3" tall so he has the arm span of approximately the same length. The room is four Jamie's by five Jamie's when I ask him to stand in the middle of the room with his arms out. My husband has lived with me long enough to know when not to even ask the question, just do what I ask, and he does – with a smile, I will add. With that measurement methodology in mind, the room must be a little over 24' x 30'. The Jamie method of measurement puts the ceiling at approximately eight feet high. The floor is wooden and there is cut timber along the length of the room on both sides of the wall. It has a large stone fireplace on one wall, that looks like is part of the natural rock, again mortared together. There is a large table that must have been used for cooking and/or for meals, further toward the back. It blocks the path to a back door. The other wall has a three shelf bookcase, with a few books, toward the front. Almost opposite the fireplace is an arched opening and I poke my head in. It's a bedroom; it has one large double bed and a corner cabinet that looks like a wardrobe. In the back there is a large corner cabinet that still has dishes and bowls in place, although all are covered in dust. Both windows are in this room with shutters on the inside, and they are, in fact, bottles that make up the glass…but the necks have been cut off. Not broken but cut and with precision. They almost all exactly the same length and are flush with the wall so the shutters will close with a bar that drops in place to latch them. I run a finger around the glass end. It is smooth, like it has been sanded. They all are. There is a small console table with a shelf underneath on the same wall as the fireplace only close to the window. And as I mentioned, there is a door at the back of the room.

"It has two more bedrooms," Angus says.

I turn in a circle. I see no other doors. I walk to the back and open the door and it is a pantry of sorts, full of dusty shelves and cooking and cleaning bowls and pots. "Look for a hidden door, Fraser," I say to myself out loud and smile. I start knocking on the walls of the pantry, especially hard on the ones below the bottom shelves; they make the most sense to be hidden doors. Nothing. No hollow sound. I stand back up, brush off my skirts and walk back to the large table and sit on it. Both men are standing there, by the door watching me. Jamie has a grin on his face. The man does challenge me, I must say. I hold up my hand, palm out to him to tell him I am not done looking yet. I walk to the wall with the arch and start knocking, listening and pushing very carefully. Nothing. Ooh, this is good. I turn and face the fireplace. And eye the little table, with a worn rug underneath. I look at the other side of the fireplace where there is nothing. I pick the table side. As I approach the wall, I see Angus' smile widen just a little out of the corner of my eye. I am looking on the correct wall and the correct side of the fireplace; a hidden door. I am warm and getting warmer. The table must be the key, the 'X'. As I approach the small table I notice a decorative needlepoint bell pull on the wall beside it. I give it a gentle pull and 'Pop' a piece of the wall slightly opens next to the firewood stacked in the firebox. I am red hot. I grab the edge and swing it open.

I turn to Jamie with a big smile on my face. Jamie is beaming ear to ear. My heart pulls with happiness. I do love this man so.

"You are in the wrong trade, Madame Healer," Angus says to me and throws his hands up in the air. "My grandfather, who built this, is smiling down on you." He turns and claps Jamie on the shoulder.

The cottage is amazing. Unlike anything I have ever seen before. I am seeing Angus' Grandfather in a totally new light. No wonder my husband trusts Angus McLeod. Jamie said Angus and Willie were great friends, just as Brian, Jamie and Willie's father had been friends with Malcolm, Angus's dad. When Willie died, Angus took Jamie under his wing and it seems they have looked out for each other ever since. Angus's Grandfather/Malcolm's father was a Stephen Taylor a British Soldier who was fighting against the Jacobite's. At some point, Officer Taylor became disenchanted with the British army, deserted and defected. He ended up on Fraser land, had learned to speak Gaelic like a native, fell in love and married a local widow named Margaret McLeod and took her last name to dodge the British Army's Defectors list. Margaret's first husband had been killed in one of the Jacobite skirmishes and had left her with three sons, two still living with her. Malcolm was the oldest of them and already married with two kids of his own. He built the now burnt cottage the goats used as a jungle gym. Seems Grandpa Taylor became a bit of a smuggler in order to provide for the family and found he had quite a knack for it. He had both British and Scottish contacts. He could smuggle in British contraband and smuggle out the Scottish. That explains a great deal as I look at Angus' grandfather's home.

The first hidden bedroom is maybe two Jamie's by two Jamie's or 12' x 12'. It has the same flooring, wall timber as the main room as well as a timber ceiling. There are three bolting bars for this door. It is prepared to keep out what is on the other side. You can see the rocks from the back of the chimney. That must be heating system for the bedroom. It's hard to get a real feel for it, it is so stuffed full of furniture. There are chairs, two more tables, two over sized stuffed chairs, rolled up rugs, candle holders, an oil lamp, a large kettle, chest of drawers, I think it's another double bed, four sleeping pallets lean against a wall and who knows what else. Behind the pallets must be another door. It's the only wall space clear enough.

"Let's see what is behind door number four, shall we?" I say as I turn to Jamie and Angus with my hand on the first pallet. They laugh as they move them.

This second hidden bedroom is almost equal in size to the first and has three single beds; one for each Malcolm and his two siblings I would guess. It is full of furniture as well tools and sealed barrels and a very small boat. It has the same ceiling, flooring, wall timber as the other hidden bedroom and the other half of the chimney for heat. Very clever.

"No door?" I turn to Angus and ask. "Wouldn't you want to be able to escape from this room if you needed to?"

"Mistress Fraser, do not disappoint me now," and Angus raises an eyebrow in challenge.

I scan the room again. All the wall space has beds or dressers against the walls except one corner where two beds are at right angles and against the wall so there is a square with nothing in it but a chair. A funny place for a chair. I walk over and remove the chair. Jamie comes over and lifts me by the waist and helps me over the bed and sets me down on the floor on the other side. Find the latch release I tell myself. There is a candle holder mounted to the wall. I don't recall seeing one anywhere else. There is a partially used candle in it. Clockwise or counterclockwise I ask myself. "Righty Tighty, Lefty Loosey," I say out loud to myself. I turn it to the left. Another 'pop' and the edge next to the bed opens an inch. I turn and step out of the way to swing the door open and walk in. I pop my head back out and there is Malcolm with a lit candle for me.

"There should be a torch on the wall just beside the door opening," he said. "just light it and lift it out of the holder." I do as he instructs. I turn so my back is to the door. No left or straight, you can only go right, so that is the direction I go. It is narrow and musty smelling. But there are other smells. I sniff.

"Rum?" I ask.

"Aye," Angus replies.

"And spices. Pepper, Thyme and is it Allspice?" I ask

"Ya've got a good nose on ya woman. Bet you are better than a truffle pig," Angus says with a laugh.

There are small barrels lining the wall of the narrow passageway. Straight ends and nowhere else to turn. I stop and hand the torch to Angus. Angus hands Jamie the torch and rolls a barrel out of the way. He lifts the floor up underneath it. It is an access door down. Angus sit, dangles his legs down then slips through the opening. Jamie is right behind him. He stops in front of me, places his hands on my waist, lowers his head and kisses me. How does he know when I need him like that? He stops the kiss too soon. I want it longer, deeper, harder. He knows. That's why he stopped. He kisses my forehead and whispers "later." He tells me to sit just like Angus did and grabs my arms and lowers me down through the opening. I find that I am standing on another barrel. The next thing I know, Jamie is standing beside me. He reaches up and set the door cover back in place and hops down off the barrel. He reaches up and places his hands on my waist. I place my hands on his shoulders and he lifts me down off the barrel. We can go left underneath the way we came, but Angus is straight ahead so that is the way we go.

Angus has opened the door and Jamie and I walk out. There is the stream I have heard and smelled. It does look fairly deep and it does have a bit of a current but there is a rocky shore between the door and the water. There is a wider path that leads down to the water. We don't seem as high up either, maybe only eight or nine feet. The water is shallow at first Angus says but then there is a drop to deeper water and there is a current to the water so to be warry. He also reminds Jamie of the fishing hole that is a little further up, that they use to catch fish when they were lads.

"Do you still have the fishing poles and basket we used when the three of us would come down here to fish we were lads?" Jamie asked if Angus.

"Aye, I remember. Willie loved to come fishing. He always caught the biggest ones too. I don't ken how he did it, either," Angus replied.

I turn and look at my husband and say, "You've been here before?"

"Aye," Jamie said. "My dad would bring me. Maybe a handful of times. Mostly after Willie and my mom died. My dad and Mr. Taylor would sit and talk for hours, and putter about the place. Angus would take me fishing. It was never the same without Willie. Mr. Taylor taught me how to catch fish with my bare hands, remember that Angus?"

I turned to look at Angus. He looked to be a million miles away.

It was settled then. Angus was happy to let us use the place. None of the locals knew of its existence. Every once and a while Angus would have a "delivery come in or go out" but he would come and take care of that business and keep Jamie and Murtagh out of site. Smugglers would do almost anything for money. Kind of like The Watch.

Two days later, with Murtagh, Faith and Fergus, we were moved and settling in.