A Laird for All Time (29 page)

Five days later, Emmy leaned against the rail of the
Caledonian MacBrayne
, the ferry from Oban to Craignure.  The December wind was biting, but Emmy was snuggled in the depths of her warmest winter coat, scarf and gloves.  It had taken a few days to prepare herself to try again, no, succeed, in her return to Duart.  Laying it all on the line, she had even updated her will, leaving everything she had to Johns Hopkins and St Jude’s. 

By her side, her largest tote was stuffed tightly.  Emmy considered the bag.  It had taken her a long time to figure out what she wanted to bring with her, assuming that what she carried would go with her as it had before.  Should she bring twenty new bras and pairs of underwear?  As much toilet paper as she could carry?  A lifetime supply of tampons?  She smiled.  All those things she would just have to do without, but getting what she did want had delayed her a bit since it wasn’t something she could just carry on the plane and get through customs without questions.  She’d had to wait in Oban for two days waiting for the package she had sent herself to arrive.

Her focus shifted to the coastline of Mull as Duart came into view.  There it was, waiting.  The wind was crisp and cold against her cheeks yet she hardly noticed.  All her thoughts, her consciousness were focused on one man, lost to the past. Simply yearning.  A quiver of uncertainty flashed through her.  What if she failed?  She was at the whim of a crazy old man who, it seemed, could only be found when he wanted to be.  What if she could never find him again?

So lost in thought was she that she did not notice the pair of eyes which had been focused on her for so long.  She could have been mugged and not even noticed or cared for that matter.  Nothing mattered any longer.  She had no will, no direction, and no desire beyond what lay before her.  Soft footsteps approached from behind.  If she’d been paying attention, Emmy would have noticed they were slow and shuffling.

“Lassie?”  The low, gruff voice had to repeat the word several times before it penetrated her consciousness.  When it finally did, she jumped as though burned. Emmy turned to see an elderly gentleman at her side.  Though he must have been in his late 70s or early 80s, he was not bent with age but stood straight.  He was broad across the shoulders and a bit heavyset.  His hair was gray and he wore a neatly trimmed beard.  From the looks of his clothing and the heavy cane he held in one hand, he seemed to do quite well for himself.

“Excuse me?” she questioned a bit warily, for, despite his genteel appearance, he was still a stranger approaching her on a public ferry.

The old man chuckled deeply at her obvious wariness.  “Dinnae be afraid, please.  I mean you no harm.”

“I didn’t think you did,” she replied tartly.

He laughed again at the obvious lie.  He moved to stand at the rail, a few feet away, and looked out over the sound as well.  His long heavy overcoat flapped in the wind.  “I remember riding the ferries that came before this with great fondness.  They were smaller, of course, not so crowded and no cars.”

“Yes, I remember,” she said without thinking.

“Do you?” he asked gently.

Emmy started, realizing her mistake.  “What I meant was I can certainly imagine . . .”

He waved her into silence.  “It’s all right.  I know what you meant.”

For some reason, part of her warmed to the man.  “You do?”

“Aye,” he smiled with a nod, staring out over the waters beyond.  “And you will see it again.  Everything.”

He seemed so calm and reasonable that Emmy was sure he must be mad.  How could he possibly know what she meant?  Did he know?  Could he help her?  She tried to joke lightly, “Are you a fortune-teller?  Can you see my future?”

He did not laugh but merely regarded her seriously for a moment before he changed the subject.  “You know, my grandmother used to bring me on the ferry often for trips into Oban to get ice cream.  She said it was our special time.”

“She did?”

“She did.”  He chuckled again.  “She was quite fond of ice cream.”

“Really, this is very interesting,.”  She turned away from him, frustrated by his cryptic conversation.  “What else did your grandmother say?”

“She said to always be a gentleman.”  He turned to face her.  “Please allow me to introduce myself.  Connor James Lachlan MacLean the Fourth, Earl of Strathclyde.”

“Connor Jam . . .”

He reached out and took her suddenly limp hand, shaking it with his large rough one.  “I know.   Grandmother always said you shouldn’t number your descendants.”

Emmy met his eyes for the first time and could only stare in shock.  Dark brown eyes warmed with gentleness and caring.  “You know!” she whispered.

“Of course I do.”

“H-h-how?”

“You know, I have not gone about this well at all.  Not as all as I had planned to.”  Connor the Fourth shook his head and tsked himself.  “It was the surprise, you see.  Of seeing you here.  I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“You know,” she stated more clearly, staring at him with owl-like eyes.  She laid her hand firmly on his arm and forced him to look at her.  His eyes were unnerving.  “Please, do not play with me here.  How do you know?  Connor MacLean was your grandfather?”

He returned her gaze in all seriousness.  “I do not mean to toy with you.  My apologies.  Aye, he was my grandfather.”

“So, who was your grandmother then?”

“Why, you, of course,” he said evenly..  “That does sound a bit strange, doesn’t it?  My grandmother!  Ha!  Strange, but true.”

Emmy’s head spun. “But how can that be?”

“As I said, you will see it all again.”  He patted her hand in comfort.  “You will return to Duart, bring your children and grandchildren here to the ferry . . .”

“Are you sure?” she interrupted, suddenly frantic, clutching at his sleeve.  “I’ve been so worried about it!  I tried before!  It didn’t work!”  Tears started to her eyes and she dashed them away, angry at her weakness.

He put an arm around her and led her to a nearby bench.  “There now, don’t cry.  Of course, it will work.  If not, I wouldn’t be here today.  You told me stories in my youth of this day and I came to find you just as you said I must.  To assure you that all would be well.”

Emmy looked up at his handsomely weathered face thinking that perhaps this was what Connor might look like at that age.  Hope blossomed in her.  Hoping and praying that he wasn’t just some mad, loony
…well, psychic, or something.  “I told you that?”

“Aye, of course it’s not something one would bandy about outside the family.”  The warm chuckle was back as this new Connor patted her hand.  “The shrinks would have had a field day with us, you know.”

“But, I did try to return before,” she whispered hoarsely.  “I couldn’t find Donell…”

“But you weren’t certain yet, were you?  You didn’t know yet.”

Emmy stared at him in confusion.  “I told you that?  I felt like I was certain.”

“You were given a chance,” he told her.  “A chance for yourself and a second chance for others.  Now you have a second chance for you if you truly want it.  With every fiber of your being.  Nothing held back.  No doubts.  No reservations.”

“But I wanted to return right away more than anything.  Why wasn’t Donell there then?”

“It was your doubts that caused your return, you said.  You missed the things you had and the first thing you did when you got back was order a Coke.”  He stared off for a moment.  “One moment of doubt was all it took for it all to end.  If you decide that Duart is what you really want, if you clear away all those doubts and return with no reservations then you will be there forever.”

A feeling of calm descended on her.  To be with Connor forever.  Nothing here in this century mattered any longer, simply Connor and her life with them.  “Then I will be,” she whispered at last.

“I know,” he said.  “As I said, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.  May I also add, a more beautiful grandmother one could never hope to find?”

Emmy smiled for the first time.  “Nor a finer grandson.”  She patted his hand.  “The family…you…are doing well?”

“Of course.”  His handsome MacLean eyes twinkled.  “Grandmother ran our family investments until her death and then made us remember two highly useful words on her deathbed.”

“Oh?  What were they?”

“Microsoft and Google.”

They both laughed out loud until Connor the Fourth stood, using his cane as leverage.  “The ferry will be docking soon.  May I give you a ride home?”

Emmy rose to stand beside him.  “I would like that very much.”  She bent to pick up her heavy bag and hooked the strap on her shoulder.  Connor laughed aloud.  “What?” Emmy said.

“That bag!” he said with a chuckle.  “My whole life, I was fascinated by it and everything it held.”

“Really?”

“Aye, did I not mention that I am a doctor?”

Emmy smiled brightly.  “Are you really?”

“Retired, of course, but I still deliver a baby every now and then.”  He smiled as well and held out an arm for her.

Emmy took it as the gangplank was lowered and the crowd of passengers went ashore.  The pair moved with the flow through the terminus and out the other side.  A limousine waited there and Connor gestured toward it.  The driver remained in the car but Connor held the door open for her.

The ride was short but by the time they arrived, Emmy had grown anxious again.  “Are you sure?”

The old man laughed aloud heartily.  “I don’t remember you being so jumpy.”

“I’m not jumpy…just anxious.”  She watched as Duart came into view.  “Do we have a good life?”  She didn’t expect an answer.  In every TV show she had ever seen where a man from the future came to someone, they were never allowed to tell.  Or said that it wasn’t good to know how your future turned out.

“Your marriage was one of the best I’ve ever seen.  You fought like cats and dogs sometimes but your love was always evident,” he told her.  “And before you ask, obviously you will have children.”

“More than one?”

“Aye, more than one.”

“And,” she swallowed apprehensively, afraid of the answer in the face of nineteenth century medicine.  “Do we have a long life together?  I know I shouldn’t ask but…”

“Trying to make sure it will be worth it?” he said, humor in those warm brown eyes, so like his grandfather’s.

“It would be worth it for just one minute more,” she replied firmly.

“You will get more time than you imagined,” he assured her.

Emmy sighed happily and giggled.  “God, we’re going to be a couple of old farts knocking around the castle someday, aren’t we?”

“Not you, you were always ahead of your time.”  The car rolled to a halt in front of the castle and he patted her hand.  “We are here.”

“Duart Castle,” she whispered, staring up at the old castle.

“And still open from May until October just as you always insisted it be,” he teased.

“Well, good thing it was!”

“Indeed.  Well, I guess it is time for you to go.”

“Thank you so much.”

“You helped yourself.  I was only the messenger.”

“Still, I thank you.  I will live a long happy life knowing what a fine future is in store for me.  Especially that I shall have a grandson such as you.”

“Thank you
…grandmother.” He winked.

Emmy laughed with a wince.  “Not quite yet, thank you.”  She hugged him quickly.  “Take care of yourself.  I guess I’ll see you in a few years.”

With a shared nod, for no more words were necessary, Emmy got out of the limo as the chauffeur held the door.   She pulled her bag up onto her shoulder.  Duart loomed before her and she closed her eyes.

“Are ye sure ye know now, lassie?”

Emmy opened her eyes to find Donell in the chauffeur’s uniform standing next to her.  “Where have you been?  I looked all over for you!” she hissed.

“The time wisnae right,” he said simply.  “Are ye ready now?”

“I am and if you give me one moment of mystical destiny crap about it, I swear I will beat you senseless where you stand,” she threatened, getting nose to nose with him.

“Not even a wee bit?” he questioned with a straight face though his eyes twinkled merrily.  “I told ye I’d be around when ye were ready for me.”

“Don’t make me hurt you, Donell,” she whispered through narrowed eyes.  “I will take you out, I kid you not.”

“Ye’re verra fierce, lassie.”

“I am not giving up my chance this time, old man.  This is it.”  Her voice was solid and assured.  “You said to come back when I was ready.  Well, here I am.”

“No doubts?  No reservations?”

“Just anticipation.”  Her eyes turned back to the castle.  Anticipation and joy filled her at the thought of the life that awaited her.  She could feel the pull already.  Her eyes closed as she turned her face to the wind and called to him with all her heart and soul.  I’m coming, Connor, my love.  I am coming.

“I’m waiting, Donell,” she said in an annoyed tone.

She heard a chuckle.  It seemed to come from a long way away.  The wind changed, blowing strongly from behind her now.  There was a loud rush.  Then nothing.  Silence.