Bruar's Rest

tinkers’ crack. The ease his visits brought to Annie, her mother, in those last agonising days of life. His parting left a hole unfilled, and in that moment she saw and yearned for the Angus Glens.
    ‘I think I’ll take my man back to Kirriemor, Father,’ she told him. ‘Dr Mackenzie’s house isn’t big, but it holds memories, good ones. Tell me what the second letter says?’
    ‘I forgot about it,’ he said, opening the small, whitish envelope.
    ‘Dear Megan,
    It has been a long time since Rachel, her son Nicholas and I set sail for America.
    We settled in the great city of New York. We spent a wonderful time there and loved our Manhattan apartment. Nicholas is almost ready for school. He is a handsome child and resembles his father, his mother informed me.
    The reason I am forced to write, is sadly to inform you that recently Rachel took ill, and after three weeks of pneumonia lost her brave battle for life.
    I have sent this letter to an address she said would in time reach your attention. I do hope it does.
    She said on her deathbed that you must not be sad, because at last she and Jimmy will be together.
    I now hope to relieve you of any concern for Nicholas. I have already adopted him, and shall do my utmost to see he wants for nothing,
    Kindest regards
    Lady Arabella Cortonach.’
    ‘ Rachel, my dearest sister, you got your rich life, but what a pity you didn’t live to enjoy it! Still, I know your last breath would be given to see Nicholas well cared for. Bless you, my sister, sleep peacefully. I shall visit mother’s grave for you when I get there.’
    In spite of her husband’s miraculous rescue and her new-found property, many memories picked up the threads of times past; she ached deeply, and wanted to be alone. The last of her family apart from young Nicholas were lost. ‘Why do we come into this world,’ she asked the priest, ‘if all we do is hurt, then die?’
    Clouds were forming in the late afternoon sky. ‘Rain’s not far off,’ he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘When it’s windy and bright, a woman washes clothes, but not if there’s sign of wet weather. Life’s a bit like that. We should live with the good and bad, but only remember the best days. You know, my dear, no matter how cloudy life gets, I promise you sunny days are just round the corner.’
    Father Flynn said his farewells as she hugged and thanked him. Taking Bruar’s hand, she guided him onto the cart. It would take three days to reach Thurso, where she’d sell her horse and cart to whoever gave her a good price. Then, for the final time, they would take the train south to Perth, and from there it was a short journey to the home that her old friend had gifted her.

     
    Soon she was slipping the key of Doctor Mackenzie’s house into its lock. For the several weeks that followed, she revelled in cleaning it, inside and out. He’d left a small sum of money, and this allowed a fairly easy winter. The kind folks welcomed them home, and where once doors had been closed to them, the opposite was now the case. Megan and her lost man were greeted with open arms. The ploughmen had no quarrel with her or Bruar. In time they settled into their new life.
    Bruar continued to make slow progress, and one night while a wild wind rattled the windows in their frames, he spoke!
    It happened without warning. It was the constant battering of wind on the old house that did it. Neither could sleep, such was the intensity of the wind. He was disturbed, and it seemed to agitate him. She pulled bedcovers around them both and sang a soft song. He quietened, then to her utter amazement ran a hand over her head and whispered, as a sliver of moonlight rested on her head, ‘Megan has grey hair.’
    She threw back the covers and grabbed him by the shoulders; he was smiling from ear to ear.
    ‘That’s what you were trying to say at Durness!’ She leapt from the bed and dashed across to the dressing table, fumbling with a small oil lamp. She stared into the oval mirror, and there was indeed a very prominent grey-white hair visible among the black.
    ‘Bruar, talk to me—say something, anything!’ She lifted a shoe from the floor, held it above her head and asked, ‘What’s this?’ her eyes staring like eggs.
    ‘Put down the shoe, Megan.’
    ‘Oh my dear sweet man, at long last! Mother Earth has heard and answered my prayers.’ She dived from the room, threw open the front door, ran into the garden, and danced around