Chapter 22
America was a verra large country. During their road trip, they had visited five states along with Washington, DC, but the words on the tablet told Callan that there were fifty states to see.
Daisy told him there was much to see in each state, so much that they could take a year and not see everything.
When they stopped to see something, he made sure to find time to slip away and buy a charm to commemorate the trip with Daisy. He’d purchased a bracelet in Boston along with the first charm, a pretty porcelain blue and white teacup.
The van and campsite were too small to give Daisy privacy while she talked to her parents, so he gathered up the laundry in a basket, and took it to the campground facilities, making sure he had a handful of quarters in his pocket.
Many loads of laundry later, Callan no longer turned white clothes pink or red, nor did he put too much soap in the machine.
When he told Daisy he found it soothing to listen to the machines as they washed and dried clothes, she’d laughed, saying she would download the sounds to help him sleep.
Aye, he knew laundry was women’s work in his own time, but in this time, it did not matter. His manly pride was strong enough to withstand any odd looks.
The lass would take a while to talk to her parents and then brood afterwards, which would give him plenty of time for his journey.
In exchange for a ride across the bridge to a shop he had spotted when they first drove into Holden Beach, Callan showed two of the local police officers how to handle a dagger. He now had several thanks to the merchants at the Faire.
One of the men purchased food to bring back for his comrades, while the other followed Callan into the shop, saying he wanted to purchase a birthday gift for his wife.
The store owner, an elderly man with kind eyes and a warm smile, approached them. “Good afternoon. How can I assist you today?”
Callan let Alan go first, content to look over the wares before making a decision.
“What do you think of these?” The police officer held up a pair of gold and garnet earrings.
“Yer wife will be most pleased.”
Alan nodded and had the man wrap the gift. When he finished paying, he turned to Callan.
“I’m going to pick up my lunch order. We’ll meet you at the car when you’re ready. It’s quiet today, so take your time.”
“I willna be long.” He nodded to the shopkeeper, then laid the bracelet with the charms he had procured thus far on the counter.
“I am in need of a charm to add to my lady’s bracelet. To remind her of our road trip.”
The man picked up the bracelet, looking at each charm. “Very thoughtful. You have some lovely selections.”
He bent down, bringing out a flat black tray laden with gold, silver, and enamel charms. There were miniature lighthouses, seashells, animals, and flowers. But ’twas the sand dollar, the man called it, that caught his eye.
The star reminded him of the stars in the night sky and all the nights they had spent together getting to know each other, falling in love though he had not yet said the words. Until he knew if he could go back or stay in this time, he did not want to make promises to Daisy that he could not keep.
“That one,” he said, pointing to the sand dollar. “’Tis verra pretty.”
The merchant nodded. “A fine choice. The sand dollar is a symbol of good fortune, and it’s often found on our beautiful beaches here in North Carolina.”
Callan turned the gold charm over in his hand, appreciating the craftsmanship. “We will look for these sand dollars while we are here.”
“If they are a brownish color and covered with what feels like spiky fur, that means the animal is alive, so don’t take them from the beach.”
“Fur?” Callan blinked.
“Yes. That’s how the sand dollars move across the sea beds where they live.
If they are white, they are dead and you can take one to remember our lovely beaches.
” The man paused, thinking. “Look for them at low tide, especially after a storm. They are fragile. Make sure you rinse them in water and then soak them in a bleach water solution for around fifteen minutes.”
The man attached the charm to the bracelet while he talked. Daisy was going to be so surprised when he gave her the gift.
Outside, the two police officers who had given him a ride were parked by the curb, eating hamburgers. Officer Jenkins, a burly man with a thick mustache, lifted a bag.
“We grabbed you lunch.”
“I thank ye.” The fries were still warm as he shoved a handful in his mouth.
When they were finished, the men gave him a ride back across the bridge.
As they pulled up to the campground’s laundry facilities, Callan thanked the officers again. “Thank ye for driving me.”
“No problem,” Alan replied. “Enjoy your vacation.”
Callan waved as they drove off, then turned to the laundry facilities to gather up the clothes.
A young lass had offered to finish washing, drying, and folding all the clothing for ten dollars.
He agreed ’twas a fair price if she swore not to tell Daisy that he had gone to pick up her present.
Delighted to be in on a secret, the girl nodded.
As he walked back to the camper van, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Daisy, a commotion by the road in front of the campground caught his attention.
A car sped off, leaving behind a small dog, trembling and disoriented in the middle of the road.
Callan’s heart clenched at the sight. Without a second thought, he dashed into the street, waving his arms to stop the oncoming traffic.
He scooped up the frightened animal before one of the metal beasts ran over the dog. Just then, a man on a motorcycle pulled up beside him, shouting over the engine’s roar, “I got the license plate. I’m going to turn them in, the jerks.”
Callan nodded his thanks, grateful for the stranger’s help. Looking down at the wee dog in his arms, he knew he couldn’t just leave it there.
“Dinna fash, lad,” he reassured the pup, heading towards the camper. But before he’d taken a few steps, the dog let out a yelp, holding up its front paw.
A lady walking by stopped, so angry she was shaking. “I saw that man toss him out of the window of his car like the poor thing was garbage.” She patted the dog on the head.
“He looks hurt. There’s a vet across the bridge. We had to take our dog last summer when he ate a package of yarn. Do you want me to take him?”
The dog looked up at him, and Callan let out a sigh. “I think he’s mine now, but I would appreciate a ride so I dinna have to move from our camping spot.”
“Of course. Always happy to help a good samaritan.”
He followed her to her campsite, where there was an enormous RV along with a big SUV.
“Let me grab my keys and we’ll go. I need to pick up hamburger for dinner so I’ll drop you at the vet before I go to the store. If we call on the way, you’ll probably be done by the time I’m finished with my grocery shopping.”
People in this North Carolina were verra kind. “Most appreciated, mistress.”
He left the basket of clean laundry on a table in the woman’s campsite. She assured him it would be fine as her husband and kids were at the pool and knew better than to rummage in a basket of clean laundry.
“I’ll text them and let them know where we’re going. I don’t want my boys to see the dog or they’ll pester me all week to adopt him.”
The visit took longer than expected as there had been an emergency that had come in before him, so he had to wait.
Before he knew it, hours had passed. The kind woman waited with him, content to flip through the magazines on the table, telling Callan not to worry.
It was the first time she’d had any time to herself today, so she was glad for the break.
When he finally saw the doctor, he told him the dog was quite lucky as ’twas a sprain and not a break. He gave Callan medicine for the wee dog, along with a brace for his paw.
By the time the kind woman, Elaine, pulled into the campground, the sun was setting. He gathered up the laundry, the basket under one arm, and the wee dog tucked under his other arm.
He thanked Elaine and made his way to the van. Daisy would be worried that he’d been gone so long.
“Och, ye numpty,” he chided himself, quickening his pace, deciding he should give in to the lassie’s nagging and get one of the damnable cellphones. Then he could have done the text with her so she would not worry overmuch.
The scene that greeted him was one of panic. Daisy paced back and forth outside the camper van, Frankie sitting quietly nearby, her eyes red from weeping. Relief, confusion, and fear played across her face as she saw him.
“Where on earth have you been? It’s been hours. I thought you’d left.”
He put the laundry in the van, then carried the dog back to the chair with him, sitting and hoping it would calm her.
“Daisy, mo chridhe, I have told ye many times. I would never leave ye. I saw a wee dog in trouble and had to help.”
He patted the beast, explaining what had happened and why it had taken so long.
She slumped in the chair next to him. “I overreacted. Again. I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“I hope ye dinna mind, but I could not leave the wee beast.”
She blew her nose. “I’ve been wanting another dog, so Frankie would have a friend,” she said, sniffing.
Frankie came over, and the two dogs sniffed noses as Daisy held her breath. She’d noticed that for the first time Callan didn’t tell her not to worry, nor did he comfort her.
The little dog was a mix of border collie and beagle, with a black and white coat.
“We should come up with a name for this wee lad,” Callan said. “He’s not to run about until his paw heals.”
Daisy was quiet, her palms clammy as the tension rose around them. “You found him, so how about something Scottish?”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What about Brodie? It’s a good Scottish name.”
She tilted her head, considering. “Brodie... I like it.”
Brodie, upon hearing his new name, thumped his tail as he laid down next to Callan’s chair.