Fairwell the Highlands, Chapter 1
June 1774, Scotland
“Murray, watch what you're doin’, mate. You’re gonna hurt someone.” Duncan MacKay clung to the post near the edge of the dock after a barrel rolled across his foot, brushing against his leg. He shook his head. The carelessness of some of the younger workers astounded him.
He took a deep breath and pushed himself away from his precarious situation. This time had been much too close. Just another few inches would have knocked him off balance, landing him in the cold water below. Ah, he was getting too old for this type of work. And he missed being home working on the farm, with sheep and his family as companions.
Or maybe he just simply missed his family. He had been away from them for most of the year, only visiting once during the winter and once in spring, and he was anxious to return to them for good. Recently, he had been thinking about some ideas to better their life that he preferred not to share with his wife through a letter. Perhaps now was a good time to just go home. After all, Henry was too young to carry the burden of running the farm almost on his own. He should be there helping, guiding.
Had Lizzie been able to set much of his earnings aside or would he have to keep working these docks for several more months? He knew she was trying to save money for the farming equipment they needed to replace, as well as for new lambs - if they could find some for sale. But if she hadn’t spent much of it yet, maybe they could find a way to make this new plan work.
As he took a step away from the dock, pain shot through his foot and up his leg, causing him to crumple to the ground, almost falling from the dock. Scrambling to get away from the edge, he wondered what would happen if an injury kept him from doing his job. He hoped the boss didn’t see him fall. Things moved pretty fast on the docks, and if he couldn’t keep up, he’d get sacked.
“MacKay! Boss wants to see ya.” Robertson was coming toward him from the shipping office, carrying a crate. He was the closest thing to a friend that Duncan had found while working here. They were close to the same age, and their reasons for being here were similar. Robertson came from an estate east of Inverness, twenty or more miles from Duncan’s home, but because of the damage done across the region by the British armies, they both found themselves needing alternative ways to provide for their families.
“Any idea what he wants?”
Robertson looked at him with compassion. “He saw ya fall, mate. You alright? What happened?”
Duncan murmured under his breath before responding quietly. “Murray, careless as always, about ran me off the dock with a barrel. Ran over my foot and knocked into my leg. I expected it to be sore, but when I took a step, pain shot all the way up my leg and I dropped before I could steady myself.”
“Sorry, mate. I heard he’s looking for ways to let people go. Hope that doesn't give him a reason to do it. Here, let me give you a hand up.”
Great. Just what he needed right now. He thanked Robertson and slowly made his way to the office. He braced himself for each step so his leg didn’t crumple again, but it was painful, and he knew he would not be able to keep up with his work at this rate.
Duncan pulled himself to his full height and tried not to grimace as he approached the boss.
“You wanted to see me?”
Colin Reid, the overseer of the dock workers, was not a man known around the docks for his kindness. Fortunately, Duncan hadn’t had any encounters with the man, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. Reid grunted his greeting, such as it was, and motioned for Duncan to close the door. This couldn’t be good.
The middle-aged man stood tall, his silver streaked hair neatly combed, hands clasped behind his back, watching the activity outside through the window. “What happened out there?”
“Um, I guess I’m just clumsy. Didn’t get out of the way of a barrel fast enough.”
He turned slowly, watching Duncan’s face. “Come on, now. I saw you. What happened? Tell me everything.”
Duncan prided himself on his integrity, and that included not being the cause for someone else getting into trouble, so he was hesitant to tattle on another man, even a careless one.
“Well, the barrel ran over my foot, knocking into my leg. I nearly went off the dock. Would have if that post hadn't been right there.”
“From where I stood, he had plenty of room. Didn’t need to crowd you. Was that Murray?”
“Yes sir. He gets a little… distracted sometimes.”
“That’s a kind way of saying he’s worthless, don’t ya think?”
Duncan shrugged, still unwilling to speak ill of someone else, even if the man’s carelessness could have gotten him badly injured.
Reid regarded him thoughtfully as he sat down in a chair behind the desk. “You've been here, what, about nine months now?”
“Yes sir, that’s about right.”
“I’ve been watching you. You’re a good worker, MacKay. I would hate to lose you but I know your heart is somewhere else. Tell me, why did you come here for work?” He leaned back in his chair, as though truly interested in the conversation.
“Well, after the invasion in the highlands last year, there was tremendous damage to my farm. We didn’t have much to harvest, and most of our sheep were slaughtered. Many people around us depend on what we produce, so I’m here to earn the money we need for more lambs to raise and the things we need for planting crops. I send most of my wages back to my wife.”
“They pretty much destroyed everything you were doing, didn’t they.” Reid’s voice was soft and kind. Completely different from what Duncan had heard about the man. He was about fifteen years older than Duncan, so maybe that had something to do with the fatherly tone of this conversation now.
Emotions threatened to close off his voice, whether the tone caused him to miss his own father who had been dead for many years now, or from the stress of having lost most of what he had worked his whole life for, he wasn’t sure. “Aye, they did. My wife had a spinning wheel. She made yarn in the most beautiful colors.” There was a reverence that caught Reid’s attention. “Merchants came from all over, particularly Spain, to buy her yarn. She was teaching my young daughter to spin, but all that was destroyed. They burned the shed where she worked, slashed the yarn to bits. They burned our farming equipment, slaughtered most of our sheep, leaving us with next to nothing.” His words were soft and he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “And now I’ve heard rumors that many of the landlords are wanting to fill our land with what they think will be more efficient ways to make money for themselves. Makes me wonder if it’s worthwhile to even start over, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Reid stood and rounded the desk and paced in front of the window. Duncan hung his head, suddenly ashamed that he had poured his heart out to a man he hardly knew.
“I know a lot of people who've fallen into similar straits.” Reid’s words were spoken low and filled with compassion. “Let me ask you this. Would you consider starting over somewhere else?”
Duncan frowned. Surely he could not start over somewhere else. What could Reid possibly mean?
Reid chuckled. “I can see you’re confused. Let me explain. My sister’s husband is a ship builder. A number of his ships have been traveling to America, taking highlanders by the dozens. People who are despairing and feeling as though they’re being driven out.” He paused and perched on the edge of the desk, facing Duncan. “There is a lot of land available in America, cheap. You could start over for less than it would take to repair and rebuild here.”
Never in his wildest dreams had he considered uprooting his family and taking them to another country. Across the ocean. America? It was unfathomable.
And yet, a bit of hope began to settle over him as he considered the idea, as preposterous as it sounded. Suddenly, the thoughts and ideas he’d been mulling around, things he had wanted to discuss with his wife, seemed less enticing.
What would Elizabeth think of the idea? Would she be opposed to it? How would George finish his schooling at University? Henry had his heart set on taking on his own farm some day. This was certainly not something he could discuss with Lizzie in letters.
“Take a while to think about it. It might be just the thing for your family. Lots of opportunities. You’re welcome to ask me any questions, and I’ll try to get the answers for you if I don’t know them.”
“I’ll need to discuss the idea with my family.”
“Aye, yeah, of course. Go home for a few days. Let your foot heal up. If you decide to do this, you’ll get a good deal on passage since I’m recommendin’ you.” Reid smiled.
Duncan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was this truly the answer to his prayers? The way to get his family back together and be able to start again?
He had a few questions about the cost of everything, from the travel to the price of land, what sort of things they should take and what they could buy once they arrived. He asked about university studies for George, and schools for Bella. When he couldn’t think of any further questions, he gratefully accepted the offer for days away from the docks, and made arrangements for his transportation to Inverness.
His heart lifted. He was going home!
***
Elizabeth MacKay wiped tears from her cheeks. Again. It seemed she could not keep her emotions in check. It was all so overwhelming. Her woolery had been a good source of income for them, but now that it was destroyed, she didn’t know what she could do to help her family, at least until they were able to rebuild.
And she missed Duncan. Desperately. Her dear, sweet husband had been gone several months now, working at the docks of Aberdeen, leaving her and the children here to try to keep their family together.
She was grateful for the help of her strong, strapping sons. George, at age nineteen, was a student at the University in Edinburgh. It had become necessary for him to leave that behind to come home and help, but in some ways it would be better if she had fewer mouths to feed.
Still, she was grateful he was home. However, he seemed more interested in a lass nearby than in helping with their own work. His mind was certainly not on what needed done, which further unsettled the household.
Seventeen year old Henry, her second son, loved this place, and was dedicated to the farm. The fields had always thrived with crops, thanks to Henry’s expert skills. They sold the extra grains and vegetables to nearby neighbors and in the markets of the villages to the south near Inverness. And because they rented one of the largest parcels of land, the sheep herd once numbered around a hundred. But it was all destroyed now. The fields were littered with sheep carcasses and broken and burned tools. With so much damage done by the British last year, she wasn’t sure they would ever be able to recover.
More tears fell as she prayed for word from Duncan. He sent letters nearly every week along with the pay he had earned, at least as much as he could spare. He was sharing living quarters with a few other men, but the conditions were less than ideal. She wondered how he was getting by, knowing he sent almost every penny home to her.
But now she was worried. She hadn’t heard from him for nearly two weeks. Again, she lifted her heart to the Lord, praying that he was well, that he had not been injured. If something happened to him, would anyone know to notify her? Had he told any of the men he worked with where he lived and who his family was?
“Ma! Someone is coming!”
She wiped her tears with her apron, hoping her eyes weren’t ringed with red. It wouldn’t do to face a visitor with the evidence of her emotions so obvious on her face. Brushing her hair back into place and smoothing the wrinkles out of her skirt, she turned from the charred remains of the shed where her woolery shop had once been and went to greet her guest.
The man coming up the path to the house was limping, but there was something familiar about him. He seemed thin, but his height, the set of his shoulders, the confident aura in the swing of his arms, and the tilt of his chin told her exactly who this was.
Suddenly, they were running toward one another. A sob left her as she finally landed in the comforting arms of this man, the love of her life.
“Oh, Duncan! How I have missed you!”
“Aye, my darlin’ lassie. And I you. I’m sorry to be gone so long. We have much to talk about, aye?”
“Aye, we do. Are you hungry? Come, let me fix you something to eat. You’re too thin.”
Duncan chuckled and hugged her again, then kissed her temple.
“I can always count on you to fill my belly, my Lizzie.”
Smiling, she wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked toward the house.
Before they arrived, however, Bella intercepted them and demanded her father’s attention.
“Pa! You’re home! Are you here to stay? Please say you won’t leave us anymore. You can’t leave again! I’ve missed you so!” She was getting too big for him to carry, despite her petite size. She was almost twelve years old already. Elizabeth tried to convince her she was on the cusp of being a young lady, and she should act like it.
“Hello, my sweet lassie. I’ve missed you too. I will answer all your questions after I have a chance to discuss things with your Ma. Now, what are you supposed to be doing?”
“But I want to be with you.”
Chuckling, Duncan pulled her snug against his other side as they all continued toward the house.
Elizabeth quickly ladled a generous serving of a thin but aromatic stew that had been simmering in the pot above the fire. Then she tore off a chunk of bread and set it on the table. It seemed like such a meager meal for her husband. She would much prefer to provide a stew thick with lots of vegetables and bits of meat like she had for all the years they had been together, but in recent months, and with the anticipation of probable trouble from the British, she had tried to conserve so that there would be food for them all in case their crops were destroyed. And it was a good thing she had. Last year when the soldiers came through, destroying all the crops and leaving them with nothing to harvest, she was glad for the stores she had saved in the cellars. Unfortunately, many of the neighbors who depended on their abundance for their own stores, had been begging for just a small amount of the vegetables she had saved back. Her supply was dwindling fast. She prayed they would be able to replace the equipment needed to plant the crops this year.
She was grateful for the few goats they had acquired. At least there was enough milk to make butter and cheese. She served those things sparingly, needing to make them stretch. Now, however, was not a time to be conservative. Smiling, she cut off a generous chunk of cheese and brought it and the crock of butter to Duncan.
“I wish I had more to give you, husband.” Her brows drew together in remorse.
“No, lass, this is a feast fit for a king!” His smile and wink sent her heart soaring. With him by her side, everything would somehow be alright.