Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Afew hours later, the light faded into purple gloam as the orange sun set in the west. Even though it was a last-minute invitation, folks turned up, and we stood just inside the forest, where the singed edges of the field touched the undergrowth.
Our head gardener, Reggie, stepped over to me.
“Miss, the chief said a wee bit about why ye wanted us all out here again today. I want tae tell ye that even if all this is for naught, if the field doesn’t reawaken, I’ve begun rehabilitating a meadow on the other side of the castle, planting the ones you’ve said are native to the land here.
” He turned and pointed to the opposite side of the castle’s main entry.
The conversations were buzzing around us, and I was greeting those still arriving, so it took me a beat to register what Reggie had said.
I finally turned. “What now?” It was barely visible from where we were standing, but I knew of the place he mentioned—a tender new meadow adjacent to the entry and before the other forest started.
“It’s still a wee meadow yet, but it has the potential to have that increased diversity ye’ve mentioned.”
His taking my words to heart about the importance of native species and then taking action made my heart swell with affection. Tears stung my eyes with joy. It didn’t hurt that it’d been a rough few weeks, and this was an act of pure thoughtfulness and beauty.
“Reggie. That’s amazing. And even if we bring back this field, this knoll, your efforts over there will matter. A duplication of the plants would ensure—no, it already has ensured—that the native species survive.”
I threw my arms around the gruff older man.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as I hugged him; his fresh cedar and clean, crushed-green-foliage smells enveloped me.
“Och, come now, lass. Yer welcome.” He gave my back a pat then gently extricated himself before dabbing his eyes.
“Ye know you’ve been a godsend since you’ve arrived, aye?
The laird is well again, the land has taken on new meaning, and the castle will stay standing and in MacLaoch hands because you’ve come.
You’ve touched all of us. Brought with ye a new wind and new life that these old stones and tragic history needed.
It is bonny right tha’ you’re ours come home tae roost, and a wee ray of sunshine.
” He sighed like a proud father and wiped a tear off my cheek with a calloused thumb.
“And with the magic in your blessed hands, you’ll whisper to the soil and bring it back tae life.
I know it.” He tapped his fist over his heart. “Right here.”
Rowan’s warm hand was on my back and skated up to my shoulder, where he squeezed. “He’s right. I’ve told ye what you mean to me. Now you know what you mean to us.”
Hoo-boy, I thought and choked on the happy, humble, and shy feelings that welled up in me.
I found that life had a way of forcing our foot to the accelerator and asking us to never let up, but in this moment, time was standing still.
What had been accomplished over the last year was monumental.
It was to be savored, relived, retold, believed, and given thanks for.
How far we had come. And the people—the lives we touched along the way, the impact of little conversations built brick upon brick to form the spiritual castle that housed us as a community.
Five thousand miles from home, and yet, here I was, home.
I looked out into the sea of faces here now: Clive, in his tweed.
Deloris, her glasses on her chain as if she’d just left the library desk.
Marion and Flora, still in their own tweed, in skirt form, but with their wellies on instead of their sensible heels.
Eli towered in the back, his wife, Elise, next to him.
The MacDonagh brothers smiled softly at the moment, their eyes resting kindly on me.
Bernie and Angus had done something similar to this last year.
It was they, however, who did the magicking within the storm of putting Lady MacLaoch’s curse to rest. Tonight I was hoping for just magic and no ethereal storm.
We were all there except…
“Hold up!” Tee was jogging up the hill with Holly and her father and the Whisky Boys behind them. Out at the Circle Garden, Mickey stood next to Charmaine, keeping their distance as if what we were about to do was catching.
In the forest to my right, up into the oak and pine, I could feel Ethel’s presence. And someone stood next to her. I smiled when I realized it was Peabody’s silhouette.
Holly was panting as she and Tee caught up to us on the charcoal-colored hill. “Did I miss it? Are you going Viking?”
There was a collective inhale, and Tee said, “Too soon, I gather?”
“Aye, right.” She looked around. “And what do you expect? You got tae fight by her side while some of us missed it all.”
Rowan soothed the crowd. “No Vikings tonight.”
I heard Double-A mutter of his daughter, “Such a high-spirited lass, dunno where she gets it from.” Then a collective snicker from the Whisky Boys. They knew exactly whom she’d inherited her pizzaz from.
To me, Holly smiled. “You ready for this?”
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I’ve maybe just come to the realization: I think I am.”
There on the cairn knoll, we linked hands—Tee held my right as Rowan held my left.
Clanspeople grasped hands and listened as I explained that we would walk down over the field and then walk back.
A rope of people sweeping over the land.
My hope was that my bottled surplus Ormr energy would unite us, and in our footsteps, we would return what had been taken from the field.
And settle the thing, the place and time, that had gotten broken.
I took a deep breath, and with my husband and my brother beside me, different families, different continents, all home, I took the first step.
Then another. I thought of the soil and the life it held, as Ethel had taught me. When it didn’t seem to be working, I paused. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and quieted my mind.
In the quiet, in the deep recesses of my brain, a tiny sparkling raindrop of calm light wavered, a beacon for me. I took another deep breath, holding curiosity in my hands, and mentally reached for that calmness. When I touched it, a melodic wind blew through me.
Falling into the breeze, I said to Rowan, Guide me.
Aye, I have you, mo ghràdh.
I took a step, and Tee followed, anchoring my other side.
The quiet, melodious breeze continued to pull me into a place I saw in my mind’s eye: It was warm and sunny.
The haze of that summer moment sent motes of fluffy dandelion seeds into the air over the lush green meadow.
Tiny dots of insects danced and fluttered in the cornflower-blue skies.
I could feel that calm breeze move through my chest and swirl around my heart, and like grief’s tears, it bled off my overburdened soul and into my hands.
In the distance, I heard the intake of astonished breath. The breeze moved off and out into the distance. I understood somewhere in my consciousness that the clanspeople and I—through our linked hands—were putting my experience and their experience of that cairn knoll back into the soil.
I floated in the melody for some time, my feet moving as if of their own accord as my mind danced on the summer breeze. Eventually, the night air cooled my skin, and foliage softened the crunch of charcoal under my boots until my boots swished through meadow plants, clover, grass, and yarrow.
Finally, I opened my eyes. The music had faded into the distance, and now I was left with the peaceful aftermath. Standing at the top of the meadow looking down over the cairns and out to the darkened sea beyond, I stopped.
There was the chirp of crickets and other night bugs then the chatter of the forest birds before they bedded down for a long night’s sleep.
I could feel Rowan’s gaze on the side of my face, and turning to him, I saw there was a blue glow that hummed off him and, as I looked around, all the MacLaoch blood who’d fought on the cairn knoll shimmered in blue while my own skin was golden, and threads of it wove around my arms and over Tee.
Eli in the distance, touched by Ethel’s power in battle, glowed along with us.
Ormr’s gift was shared and returned to the soil.
Well done, child came Ethel’s voice. What has been done has been undone.
As night bloomed, white trailing vines glowed in the half-moon light. The field was returned. As we unlinked, voices murmured, and we all took in the foliage and new smells. We’d performed a miracle.
Rowan turned to me and putting a warm hand to my cheek said, “Bonny well, lass. Mo chridhe, look at what you’ve accomplished.” His eyes stayed on mine, and their depths held admiration and awe. “Bonny well,” he reiterated before sealing it with a kiss.
My heart felt light. I hugged him and squeezed with the fervor of joy and delight at accomplishing something so incredible, so unbelievable, that I could practically hear Peabody take his spectacles off and whisper, Incredible.
In Rowan’s arms, I rested my cheek on his chest and admired the field, the laughter from our clanspeople at the miracle they’d helped perform, the magic that swam through our veins and restored the soil. A season’s worth of growth happened as though in a timelapse video, in an instant.
Tears streamed down Reggie’s cheeks as he came over. “Ye’ve done it, lass.”
“We did. I couldn’t have done this without you.
Without any of you.” I slipped from Rowan’s embrace to give Reggie a hug.
Like a magnet to iron, my brother came in behind and added his hug to us.
Then Holly and Rowan were at my side, and soon there were arms and gentle squeezes as we all celebrated, giddy like season ticket holders to an underdog team that made it to the Super Bowl and won.
Rowan cleared his throat and said, “Let us mark this day. To the quiet goodbye of the MacLaoch curse and the resurrection of our native miracle.”
“Aye, I’d toast tae that.” The crowd murmured their agreement.
The MacDonaghs chimed in. “It’s good we brought some mead we’ve been abrewin’, then, ain’t it?”
Rowan smiled. “It’s as if ye knew this would happen.”
Angus answered, “Who, us?”
“While we crack the MacDonagh mead that will surely blind us all—”
Bernie called back, “Aye, but you’ll be happy before it does!”
“—I’ll add to the moment with the first of Glentree Gold. Double-A, you’ve brought some, aye?”
“Aye, and it’s a good one.”
“Hear, hear!” came from the crowd.
With many hands to help, cups and the food meant for tea the next day were brought out and tartans were spread on the new meadow ready and sturdy to receive us and our evening festivities.
Ethel with Peabody ambled down and shared in the frivolity. Ethel settled in by my side as Eli and Tee stayed close too.
Her gentle hand rested on my shoulder as her warm milk chocolate gaze settled onto mine.
“Granddaughter,” she said, and then her gaze touched Eli and Tee.
“My grandchildren.” She indulged in a long, comforting look before her gaze returned to me.
“You have his powers, his ability to wield magic—you are a woman born into it. Unlike him, you have the kindness and wonder a woman of science has for the world around her. Your life here will be full and meaningful, satisfying and complete.”
For the first time, I gathered Ethel up into a hug. Her shawl was buttery soft, and her body’s cuddliness reminded me of my late grandmother. As her arms returned the embrace, I felt it again: I was home.
A song broke out at the edge of the group. A fiddle and skin drum had been found, and they struck a lively tempo. I released Ethel. “Thank you.”
Ethel patted my arm. “It is what we do. Mothers follow their instincts. You are my child reborn. I cannot do anything but love you and help when you are in need.”
Tee tucked in on the other side and slung his arm over my shoulder. “Feels like home, right?”
So he could feel it too. “Yeah” was all I could manage as I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Like we’ve been out cruising the world not knowing this was right here waiting.”
Holly, carrying a multitude of sloshing glasses, said, “Here,” and started passing them out. “Some’s Da’s whisky, some’s mead, ye get what ye get.”
I inhaled the perfume off my cup and knew I held Glentree Gold. I smiled at Rowan.
“Uncle’s whisky that the Whisky Boys saved.”
Holly stepped aside, and behind her were visible the faces of the clanspeople again. The song died out in anticipation of me saying a few words in a toast.
I stood with Ethel and Tee. “Thank you, all, for coming out tonight.” I smiled at each face, letting my gaze touch them with the gratitude I felt.
“What we accomplished here, I think I’ll only start to understand twenty years from now, if ever.
Some things, I suppose”—I looked at Rowan—“are just magic.”
He gave me a knowing smile at my use of the word magic. I finally could say it out loud. I finally believed it.
“Destiny took my hand and brought me here. It knew this was where my future lay. I’ve returned to the place that once held so much meaning and purpose for my ancestor.
I’m glad I’ve come, I’m glad you’re here, and I’m especially glad to now call you kin, of blood and spirit.
” I didn’t know what possessed me, but I held my hand up and rubbed my fingers together as if dusting glitter from the tips, and out from them, fueled by spirit and love, flowed glowing sparks.
The fluttering golden light floated up and settled over the clan like bioluminescent fireflies.
“Whoa” came from Tee, looking at the lights.
I raised my cup, and the rest followed.
“Slàinte mhath!” came from the back, and it rippled through the crowd.
“Silante,” I whispered before tossing back the Glentree Gold. The whisky heat stung then puffed into warm vanilla tones with smoke and sea spray.
“Mm,” I said.
Tee agreed. “That’s some damn good whisky.”
Rowan, next to me, hissed, “Oye, fuck me.” He looked at his cup. “I’ve got Mac Mead.” He coughed. “That is going to make me go blind.” Then hollered to the MacDonagh brothers, “Oye! Mac!” He lifted his cup. “Good fucking shite!”
Bernie lifted the earthen jug high with a glowing smile. “Aye, it’s good for two things: degreasing engines and making everyone around ye pretty.”
Angus guffawed, looking hard at his brother. “Not everyone.”
Rowan grinned. “I’ll take another.”