The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [60]
She leaned against the lamppost, hands behind her, and met his eyes directly. “I think I love you, too.”
He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until he let it out.
“Ah. You do.” The water had condensed in his hair, and icy trickles were running down his neck. “Mmphm. Aye, and is the operative word there ’think,’ then, or is it ’love’?”
She relaxed, just a little, and swallowed. “Both.”
She held up a hand as he started to speak.
“I do—I think. But—but I can’t help thinking what happened to my mother. I don’t want that to happen to me.”
“Your mother?” Simple astonishment was succeeded by a fresh burst of outrage. “What? You’re thinking of bloody Jamie Fraser? Ye think ye cannot be satisfied with a boring historian—ye must have a—a— great passion, as she did for him, and you think I’ll maybe not measure up?”
“No! I’m not thinking of Jamie Fraser!
I’m thinking of my father!“ She shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket, and swallowed hard. She’d stopped crying, but there were tears on her lashes, clotting them in spikes.
“She meant it when she married him—I could see it, in those pictures you gave me. She said ’better or worse, richer, poorer’— and she meant it. And then … and then she met Jamie Fraser, and she didn’t mean it anymore.”
Her mouth worked silently for a moment, looking for words.
“I—I don’t blame her, not really, not after I thought about it. She couldn’t help it, and I—when she talked about him, I could see how much she loved him—but don’t you see, Roger? She loved my father, too—but then something happened. She didn’t expect it and it wasn’t her fault—but it made her break her word. I won’t do that, not for anything.”
IF SHE TAKES A VOW, Brianna says stubbornly, she’ll keep it—no matter what. But she will not take that vow until she’s positive she can keep it. She loves him, she wants him; she’ll sleep with him, if he likes—but she won’t marry him; not yet. Seeing that there is no moving her, Roger reluctantly accepts her decision—though with his own warning. He will have her all, he says … or not at all.
And so matters rest between them, symbolized by Roger’s Christmas gift— a plain silver bracelet, engraved in French:
“JE T’AIME …“ it says. “Un peu, beau-coup, passionement, pas du tout.” I love
you. A little, a lot, passionately… not at all.
HAVING FOUND a place he feels his own, Jamie asks Claire to stay and begin their life on the mountain at once; not even returning to Cross Creek, where Jocasta spreads her tempting nets of obligation. The cost of labor and hardship seems small, measured against the prospect of freedom.
Ian stays with them to help in the building of their first simple shelter, Myers returning to Cross Creek to deliver Jamie’s letter of acceptance to the Governor, apprise Jocasta of her nephew’s decision— and bring back with him such supplies as may be needed to build a cabin and plant a small crop in the spring.
In the course of exploring, Claire and Jamie have met some of the Indians whose hunting territory lies nearby; the Tuscarora chief, Nacognaweto, and two of his sons, who were most impressed by Jamie’s prowess in killing a bear with his dirk. As the Frasers work on their new habitation, Nacognaweto returns, bringing with him his womenfolk—his wife, his stepdaughter, and his grandmother, Nayawenne, who is a singer and a healer—bearing gifts of food.
Nayawenne recognizes Claire as a kindred spirit, and shows her many of the useful plants that grow nearby. The old woman seems to know her, and eventually tells her that they have met before, in a dream; a dream in which Claire appeared as a white raven—rather a sinister omen. In parting, the old woman makes a cryptic prophecy, telling Claire not to worry: “Sickness comes from the gods. It won’t be your fault.”
IT IS A FRAGILE and tenuous foothold that they have upon the mountain as winter sets in—but a foothold, for all that. As the snows come down, the Frasers turn inward, to each other, taking pleasure in their close companionship and the warmth