Finding Fraser(52)

We stepped off the edge of the causeway just as the cab came roaring up to the end of the road. It screeched to a stop and I waved my flashlight at it weakly.

Alec leapt out, talking before he’d even made it out of the car. “Ach, I am right sorry, Miss. My car had a flat and I had to travel back half way to Fort William …” he began, and then stopped short at the sight of Jack.

“I am SO happy to see you,” I said, teeth chattering.

He hurried over. “Are ye injured, Miss?”

“Not me—my friend has hurt his foot,” I said. “Can you take us to the hospital?”

“Nae problem—ah can have ye back there quick as a wink. Here, let me…“ He came around and transferred Jack’s weight onto his own shoulder, and half-dragged, half carried him to the back of the cab. He got Jack tucked inside, and then opened the front passenger door for me.

“Looks like ye found yerself a wee ghostie, aye?” he said, with a nod to the back seat. “No’ so wee, but lookin’ damn pale for all that, aye?”

“No kidding,” I muttered, and slid into the delicious embrace of the warm cab.





“You thought I was a ghost?” Jack said, as the cab jounced down the road to Mallaig. “I feel we live in such a cynical age, no one believes in ghosts anymore.”

I shrugged, still shivering even in the overheated taxi.

“I was alone on the wall of a fourteenth century castle,” I said. “And if you had said something sensible, like maybe ‘Help me!’ or ‘Over here!’ instead of moaning, I would have been less likely to assume the worst.”

“I don’t remember moaning,” he said, reflectively. His foot was propped on the seat, but he winced every time the cab hit a bump. “I’m sure it was probably just in your imagination.”

He leaned his head back into the corner and closed his eyes. I watched the pale reflection of his profile against the window glass. It was a fine profile, but I looked away. We’d met twice, and this ‘Rebecca’ had come up both times.

“You didn’t say why you were there, Emma,” he muttered, interrupting my roiled thoughts. His voice was laced with pain and tiredness. “Searching for your Fraser, were you?”

I felt my face flame in the darkness. Susan was the only other person I’d discussed my quest with face-to-face, and that had gone nowhere good. And I did not feel open to sharing with a writer I’d only met once before on a continent three thousand miles away.

“I—I was just having a look around.”

“She’s trying to find a wee ghostie for a friend,” Alec the cabbie added, helpfully. He careened around a corner and the very hospital I had been visiting earlier in the day sailed into view. I looked over my shoulder and found Jack had opened his eyes again. He was smiling, but strangely enough, did not mock me.

“Seems to me we’re even,” he said quietly. “I believe I helped you out of a rough spot in Philadelphia.”

“That you did,” I said.

“And you most definitely did the same for me tonight. Much more, in fact.”

Alec swung wide and brought us up to the emergency room doors.

“Isn’t this reserved for the ambulance?” I said, nervously.

“Ach, it’s A&E—and this is both,” said Alec, recklessly. “I won’ pull in or nothin’. They’ll gi’ us a hand here, is all.”

I climbed out of the car, my legs still stiff from the cold, and just as the cabbie had said, a couple of nurses came out, wheeling a chair. In no time, Jack was whisked away, calling out that he’d be in touch.

I dug in my pack for my wallet, but Alec would have nothing of it.

“I practically abandoned ye out there in that godforsaken ruin,” he said. “Auld Alan would slay me if I took a pence off yeh. Now ge’ back in and I’ll take you to yer B&B.”

So that is what I did.





Following Figments…

Noon, March 19

Fort William, Inverness-shire, Scotland



Those of you who have followed my journey from the beginning will know I had a pretty clear route planned. I was going to walk in the footsteps of Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser, as traced upon the map to be found inside the cover of my copy of OUTLANDER.

There have been a few bumps in that plan, and for all who have posted worried comments, please know I am okay. I’ve solved the worst of my financial issues for the time being, and I am back on track.

This week, on the advice of a friend (hi Gerald!) I traveled from Fort William to a ruined old castle in the West Highlands. The friend assured me the castle was haunted. And indeed it was.