Snow Swept Moors: A Highland Winter Collection Page 3

  “So if I did this I would be in some other time for two months, but when I returned it would be one minute after I left?”

  “That’s essentially right. So ye’d be able to help the Carrs, and still be here for Christmas. But, ye don’t have to stay the entire time. In fact, ye must choose to say yer return word sometime within the sixty days, or ye won’t be able to return home ever. And when ye do say it, yer soul will return to yer own body instantly.”

  Anita could scarcely believe what she was hearing. But deep in her soul she knew Gertrude was telling her the truth. “Okay, let’s just say I believe this works. What happens when I return? Agnes will be back in their failing body and also have lost up to sixty days. I think that would be terrible.”

  Gertrude nodded. “And it would be if that happened, but it won’t. Setting Agnes’s specific case aside, normally the person into whose body the time traveler goes will have done something to set events in motion that will result in their death and the time traveler does something immediately that prevents it. Therefore, as the other person’s life was over, when the time traveler returns to their own time, the other person’s body dies and their soul moves on. If, by chance, the time traveler chooses not to return, their body dies here and the other soul moves on.”

  “But this time is different?”

  “It is very different. As I said before, in this case, Agnes will have a stroke on Christmas Eve. If nothing changes, she will die at that moment. If ye accept the watch and enter her body, ye’ll have the strength and will to live on for a while even in a very frail, weak body.”

  “You’re sure this will help? Even if I keep her alive until after Christmas what good will it do? I might be in Agnes’s body, but I’m not really her. I’m a stranger. I won’t know anything about her family, which I’m sure would be distressing to everyone. And in the end Agnes will die the moment I choose to come back.”

  “All valid concerns. But first, let me ask ye something. Do ye remember the last Christmas before yer grandfather died?”

  Anita smiled and nodded. “I was just a little girl. He had lung cancer and was on oxygen. He couldn’t talk much, but he was there, smiling, watching as we unwrapped presents and played games.”

  “So it was simply the warmth of his presence which made that Christmas special?”

  “Yes, I suppose it was.”

  “It will be the same in this case. Her great-grandchildren will forever hold dear the memories of cuddling on her lap, telling her stories and singing songs to her. That is a truly precious gift to give them. But as I’ve said before, this time everything is a little different. While it is true you’ll have your own mind and soul, you will be in her body with her brain and in this case, she will be aware of her family’s love, just not her failing body.”

  “But how do I explain not knowing anything?”

  Gertrude smiled. “You won’t have to explain. Remember, Agnes will have just had a stroke. She’ll be very weak and unable to speak well. Time travelers are generally able to understand and speak the language of their host and ye’ll be able to understand what is said to ye—it’ll feel no different than English does. But ye’ll not be able to speak her language, at least not much because, as a result of the stroke, she won’t be able to.”

  “Will she—that is to say, I—be in pain?”

  “Aye. She is elderly and has the aches and pains that come with her age. And she will be left seriously weakened by the stroke.”

  “And I’ll feel all of that?”

  Gertrude nodded solemnly. “Aye. Every gift has its price and this one will not be easy to pay. But I promise, ye’ll never regret it.”

  Anita’s head was spinning. She was being offered a chance to give an invaluable gift to this family and although it wouldn’t be easy, in the long run it would literally take less than a minute of her time. Finally, her resolve set, she nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  Gertrude smiled and a warmth and peace, unlike any she had ever known, washed over Anita. “I knew I could count on ye. Now ye’ve accepted, I can tell ye a bit more. As I said, ye’ll enter the body of a very dear old soul by the name of Agnes. Lady Agnes Carr, that is.”

  “Lady? A noblewoman?”

  “Aye. She lived in the Scottish Highlands a very long time ago—in the thirteenth century—and she is the grandmother of Logan Carr, Laird of Clan Carr.”

  Anita was stunned. “The thirteenth century? Medieval Scotland? I had no idea you meant—good heavens that’s…that’s…”

  Gertrude nodded. “Over seven hundred years ago. Aye. Lady Agnes has lived a long and full life. She is greatly loved by her family and clan and as I’ve already said, nothing will actually keep her from dying. Her time on Earth is done. Indeed, Lady Agnes herself is ready to go home to the Creator. She is eighty-two years old and—”

  “Eighty-two? In the thirteenth century? I thought the average life expectancy was forty or so.”

  “That’s true. However, that number includes the exceedingly high death rate among infants and children, which brings the average down. People who lived to adulthood, especially those in the upper classes who didn’t experience as much hardship, generally lived longer. That said, ye are right, eighty-two is quite an advanced age to reach for someone living in that era and it is the exception rather than the rule. But as I’ve said, Lady Agnes is eight-two years old. She is tired and in pain. If yer soul enters her body, she will not die on Christmas Eve. Her family and clan will not be thrown into mourning and forever remember that their beloved matriarch died on Christmas Eve. While they will be fully aware that it is their last one, they will have one more Christmas season with her. At the same time, Agnes herself will rest peacefully in yer body, feeling her family’s abundant love and be spared suffering from the stroke which inevitably will end her life.”

  “Suffering. That’s the part that scares me.”

  “I can understand that. But in addition to knowing ye’ve given this great woman and her family an amazing gift, ye’ll also experience Christmas as a thirteenth century noblewoman, amid a large and loving clan. Ye’ve always been fond of history.”

  She had been. She’d taught sixth grade for years but her favorite subject was history. This was an incredible opportunity to see it firsthand. But the rest was daunting. Even in today’s world, with all its technology, dealing with the sequelae of a profound stroke is hard. And the aches and pains that come with her age were nothing to look forward to either. At fifty-eight, Anita had days when her joints were stiff and ached, but she could just go to the medicine cabinet and take an analgesic. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Agnes. She was on the verge of backing out, when she remembered how she’d felt after Katy’s call. Mixed in with everything was fear and regret. The fear that Christmas Eve would never be the same and the regret that she hadn’t savored it more last year. Could she do this? Give this gift to another family and a venerable old woman?

  “Can ye do it?” asked Gertrude, echoing Anita’s thoughts.

  Anita nodded. “Yes. I can.” After all, it was only a couple of days.

  Gertrude beamed. “I knew ye would. Now there are a few other details ye need to know. As I said, because of the stroke, ye’ll not be able to speak Gaelic clearly. Ye’ll be able to communicate a little, but yer words will be slurred. It will be difficult.”

  “But if I can’t speak clearly, how will I say the return word when the time comes?”

  “The stroke will only have affected Agnes’s ability to speak Gaelic because of the damage to that part of her brain. Because the stroke will not have affected yer mind, ye will be able to speak English without difficulty and yer return word will be in English.”

  “Okay.” Anita gave a sigh of relief.

  “So, back to business,” Gertrude said as she handed Anita the pocket watch. “I must be sure ye know exactly what to do.”

  “Tonight when I go to bed, I tell the watch a return word, put it around my neck and go to sleep. I will
wake in Agnes’s body. The watch will advance one second for every day I am in the past. I must put the watch around my neck and say the return word within sixty days to return to the present. My goal is to stay through Christmas.”

  “That sums it up, except you don’t have to have it around yer neck to say the word. As long as it is in the same time as you are, it will work from wherever it is. That’s one of the miracles of the pocket watch.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Now, regarding yer return word, it must be something ye won’t say accidentally.” Gertrude looked at her for a moment. Her eyes stopped on Anita’s Christmas tee-shirt and she smiled.

  Anita glanced down at it and smiled too. It was from Beall’s, her favorite department store, and, worked in rhinestones on it, was a flamingo wearing a Santa hat. “We do things a little differently here in subtropical Florida.”

  Gertrude grinned. “I like it. And it gives me an idea for yer word. Might I suggest ‘flamingo’?”

  “That’s perfect. I love flamingos.”

  Gertrude winked. “I thought ye might.” She stood up. “Now, it’s been a pleasure but I must be on my way and ye need to finish yer shopping.”

  As Gertrude started to walk away, Anita called, “Wait. How do I get the watch back to you?”

  Gertrude waved a hand. “Ye needn’t worry about it. The watch will find me when ye return.”

  As Gertrude walked away, a group of teenage girls, laden with bags and chattering happily, walked by. When they had passed, Anita couldn’t see Gertrude anywhere.

  Anita laughed. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

  Chapter 3

  Later that evening

  Jim wasn’t home that evening until after eight and he fell asleep watching the ten o’clock news. Anita had trouble waking him, but eventually she got him up and into bed. By the time she had washed her face and brushed her teeth, he was sound asleep and snoring.

  Before getting into bed, she retrieved the pocket watch from her purse. When she’d been with Gertrude, everything seemed logical and made sense. Now, with the strength of Gertrude’s presence gone, it all seemed ridiculous. She very nearly put the watch back into her purse, until a little voice inside her said, But what if…

  Anita’s resolve strengthened. It might not work, but if it didn’t, the worst thing that would happen was she’d wake in the morning with the watch around her neck feeling a little silly.

  “Okay, here we go.” She opened the pocket watch, but just as she said, “My return word is ‘flamingo’,” Jim rolled over, giving a snore that was so loud it nearly rattled the windows. Nothing happened. She frowned. Better to be safe. “Just in case you didn’t hear me, my return word is flamingo.” She wasn’t sure what she expected, but still nothing happened. She shrugged, closed the pocket watch, put the chain around her neck and curled up in bed.

  She laid there for a while, wide awake. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand—it was ten forty-five.

  She rolled over, trying to get comfortable, but still couldn’t manage to sleep. She glanced at the clock again—eleven o’clock.

  Truthfully, this wasn’t unusual. Normally it took her at least forty-five minutes to fall asleep and that was when she read for a while first.

  At eleven fifteen, she opened a book and flicked on the tiny reading light. Even so, it was after midnight before she felt relaxed enough to sleep and put the book away.

  ~ * ~

  It felt as if she’d only been asleep for a moment when her eyes popped open. She was sitting at a wooden table in what appeared to be the great hall of…a castle. She wanted to look around, but the pain in her head was blinding. She felt herself slump forward. This is it. Agnes is having the stroke.

  “Grandmother? Grandmother, what’s the matter?” said a sweet feminine voice.

  “Good heavens! Agnes, is something wrong?” the voice belonged to an older woman.

  Anita tried to raise her head but couldn’t. She tried to put her hands on the table and push herself up. Only the right hand did her bidding and she managed to raise up a little.

  By this time the younger woman was at her side, cradling Anita’s head in her small hands. “Grandmother? Oh, no. Grandmother.” She wrapped her arms around Anita. “Mother, we need to get her to her bed. I fear she’s had a stroke of apoplexy.” She looked across the room. “Broc, send someone for Logan and I need someone to carry Lady Agnes upstairs.”

  A boy who looked to be about nine or ten years old appeared at her left side. “Mama, is there anything I can do?”

  He looked frightened and Anita wanted to reach out to him, comfort him, but her left arm hung useless at her side.

  Almost instantly, several other children appeared behind him. “Mama, what’s wrong with Great Granny?” asked a little girl who appeared to be six or seven.

  “Granny is ill. Evan, we aren’t going to have lessons today. I need ye to take Malina and the twins to the nursery and tell Nanny Peggy what’s happened. She’ll mind all of ye till I’ve taken care of Granny.”

  There was a flurry of activity as the young woman called more orders. Before Anita knew what was happening, a strong young man lifted her in his arms and carried her up a winding stone staircase. He took her into a room containing an ornately carved bed, which stood under a canopy hanging from the ceiling, and laid her gently in the bed.

  Both women who’d been with her downstairs were right behind him.

  The pain Anita felt in her head was excruciating. The bright morning sun flooding the room only made it worse. She closed her eyes.

  She must have lost consciousness because when next she opened her eyes, slanting shadows suggested that it was late afternoon.

  “Grandmother, ye’ve joined us again.” The young woman from earlier sat beside her, holding her right hand.

  Anita tried to answer, I was asleep, but all that came out was “Ahhhhwaaaeep.” She frowned and tried again. “Ahhhh waaaaas ssssleeeep.”

  “Ye were asleep?”

  Anita squeezed her hand.

  “Yes, ye were.” The voice came from a handsome man standing near the hearth, who appeared to be in his late thirties.

  The young woman caressed Anita’s cheek. “Grandmother, I think ye’ve suffered an apoplexy. That’s why it’s hard to talk and ye have no strength on yer left side.”

  Even though Anita had known this would happen, it was still very frightening to be in a body that didn’t follow her commands and among people she didn’t know and with whom she couldn’t communicate easily.

  She pushed at the bed with her right elbow. She was uncomfortable and wanted to readjust her position, but got nowhere. She also realized her bladder was full and aching. She needed help. I need to get up became: “Ahhheeeeeuhhhhhhhhp.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandmother, I can’t understand you.”

  A tear slipped down Anita’s cheek. Maybe she’d been out of it for days. Maybe Christmas was over and she could say the word. She needed to find out. She drew on everything in her. “Whaaaaaaa daaaay?”

  “What day is it? It’s Christmas Eve,” answered the man.

  Damn. She had to stay. And she had to pee. She tried again. “Uhhhp. Peeeeee.”

  “She needs to use the chamber pot,” said the older woman who had been in the great hall. Anita hadn’t noticed her sitting on the other side of the bed until that moment. “Logan, bring it to the side of the bed and we’ll help her up.”

  The younger woman was already trying to help her into a sitting position. But before they could get her up, she felt warm moisture spread out beneath her. She’d wet herself. Embarrassed, she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.

  The young woman stroked Anita’s hair. “It’s all right, Grandmother. We’ll take care of it. Let’s get you onto the chamber pot just in case you still need it. Logan, go and fetch some serving women to help change the linens. Your mother and I can handle this.”

  With the girl on one side and the older woman on the
other, they managed to help Anita stand on her right leg. They lifted her skirts and helped her pivot onto the chamber pot.

  “Maggie, it’s probably best to get her wet clothes off while she’s up. I’ll find a night-rail to put on her.” The older woman opened a chest and after a moment’s searching pulled out a long, white nightgown that looked like it might have been made from wool.

  Maggie began unlacing the clothing Anita wore. She pulled off the outer dress then untied ribbons at Anita’s neck that held on a voluminous white garment. It wasn’t until then that Anita realized the watch was around her neck.

  A moment later, Maggie gasped as she pulled the white undergarment over Anita’s head.

  Anita searched her brain frantically. Had watches been invented yet? How would she explain this? The fact was, she couldn’t explain it. She was physically unable to.

  Maggie lifted the watch from around her neck and turned it over in her hands before opening it. Then she captured Anita’s gaze. “You’re a time traveler.”

  Anita gaped at her. “You know?” Anita felt as shocked as Maggie looked. The words came out clear and smooth—in English.

  “And you speak English.” Maggie’s voice changed and Anita knew she’d spoken to her in English as well.

  The older woman on the other side of the room stood wide-eyed, watching them. “What is it?”

  Maggie held up the watch for her to see. “She’s a time traveler.” This time the words must have been Gaelic.

  The other woman’s eyes went wide. “Hide that before the other women get here.”

  Maggie nodded, slipping it around her own neck, under her clothes. “I’m sure this is all overwhelming. My name is Maggie Carr and I used the watch years ago but the only people who know are my mother by marriage, Lady Davina Carr,” Maggie gestured to the other woman, “and my husband, Logan, who is the laird of this clan. Ye’re Lady Agnes Carr, Logan’s grandmother and Davina’s mother by marriage. We’ll just get you sorted here and after the serving women leave we can talk. The only ones who know about me are Logan and Davina.”