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Caitlin rose early the next morning, her task was to wash the laundry. She collected wood from the woodpile and lit a fire under the Copper, a very large basin made of copper held in place over the solid fuel fire. When the water was hot enough, she used a pole to agitate the clothes to wash them. Then she emptied the Copper and repeated with fresh water to rinse. Today, to save time, she rinsed the clothes in cold water. She would not be doing that in winter. Way too chilly on the hands! Caitlin hung the clothes on the line as Scott emerged.
Caitlin had spent most of the night thinking. They needed to talk, but where would she start? Did she really want to? Scott stood shirtless in the back doorway, dishevelled and drinking his first cup of tea for the day. He walked toward her. Caitlin’s eyes flicked from Scott to her washing and back again. She tried not to focus on his chest. Scott’s sutured wound still looked fresh. She opened her mouth to speak, but Scott, staring at the ground as he approached, began the conversation before her.
“Caitlin, I’ve been thinking after reading those newspapers last evening. Soon crude oil refining will almost cease, and petrol and other fuels will become scarce. So, I will go and buy horses and a goat.”
“Where?” Caitlin double blinked. Not the topic she imagined they’d be discussing. She wouldn’t bring up the subject of the embarrassing moment of last evening, even if he didn’t.
“Probably back to Crieff or near Perth even. It will take me a couple o’ days. I’m going tae take the car we hid and sell it. Then I’ll stock up on what I can carry on the horses.”
What? Wait a minute, he was leaving her? After those guys yesterday? A tightness clenched the back of her throat.
“What if somebody comes?”
“There’s nae avoiding it.” Scott bit his lower lip. “We need transport when there is nae any fuel. Which will soon be the case. If both of us go, then I’ll no’ be able to carry as many supplies back on the horses.” He stood close in front of her now, empty cup in hand. He smelled of man, and his body heat radiated from him; reluctance also, but the journey was a necessity. “Keep all the doors locked,” he continued. “When you’re out of the house, keep the nearest door to you open, carry a gun and a knife. Don’t be out when it’s dark. Keep the wee mutt nearby ye. He’ll let you know when someone’s coming.” They both smiled.
Caitlin did a double take, as his previous order sunk in.
“A gun? But you’ve never let me touch a gun.” She looked him directly in the eye. He still always had the key to the ammunition cupboard on his person.
“Well, I ken ye know guns.”
“You trust me now?” She stood taller, challenging him.
“Things are changed between us now, Caitlin. Ye trust me, and so I can trust you.” Scott took the key from his trouser pocket and placed it firmly in her palm, closing his warm large hand around hers as he spoke. Caitlin looked at his hand engulfing hers. She was uncomfortable again, memories of last night in her head and she didn’t know how to even begin to talk about that.
“But what if somebody comes?” She hardened her voice.
Scott faced her full on, his eyes narrowed a little and the muscles in his cheeks tightened as he clenched his jaw.
“Shoot to kill.” He nodded slightly with a firmness to his voice to which she was unfamiliar. Scott sounded like a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
She gulped. “But what if they’re friendly?”
“Caitlin, you’re nae fool. Ye ken how to read people. Trust your instincts...shoot to kill.” That slight nod again. He turned away.
“Why a goat?”
“For milk and cheese. You love goat’s cheese.” He half turned back.
“I do?”
“Well, ye do in the future. You love feta.” The knowing smile, always present when Scott announced something previously unknown to her about herself, showed up on his face once more.
Before Scott’s journey, he barred both the windows. “Just in case someone tries to break one to get in to ye.” He showed her the loading and use of a handgun as she was familiar with a shotgun.
***
THREE DAYS PASSED. Before Scott left, Caitlin had asked him to try to stock up on medicines such as antibiotics and lignocaine. “Because you keep cutting yourself,” she’d teased. It was an attempt at light-heartedness. Her concern grew. First, for the fact he was leaving her, second that he was leaving her on her own and third, because he may not come back. She turned over her anxieties in her mind. Scott would never do this out of choice, but there was a strong possibility something sinister or fatal could happen to him and she would never see him again.
The first two days Caitlin had browsed the books on medicinal herbs and inspected the wild plants in the garden. She found Feverfew, which she had read soothed headaches. Also, Chamomile, which she knew was an herbal tea used for a calming effect. There was even a plant which might be Echinacea, but she wasn’t sure, as the climate would be too cold for it. She researched herbs, as she assumed medicine production may cease as well.
At night, she sat by the Aga and read—history books, mainly. Scotland’s history fascinated her. As a people, the Scots had been either subjugated or not ruling independently, for most of the last seven hundred years of their history. This absolutely baffled her. Her Scottish ancestors were so fierce, even the might of the Roman Empire could not subdue them. How had the British managed?
Caitlin looked at the Gaelic language book. Scott had called her ‘gra mo chroi’. She found out it means ‘my heart’s love’ or ‘love of my heart’. She spoke little of the Gaelic herself, mostly road signs, as many in Scotland were bilingual. Having lived in Edinburgh most of her life, she had not heard the Gaelic spoken often. She loved its sound when Scott spoke it. She hoped to say something to him in the Gaelic when he came back. Something like ‘I love you’. Scott would probably laugh at her. Figuring out how to speak the Gaelic, when she had read the road signs, was difficult. There were so many letters in the words that were not pronounced.
Caitlin’s thoughts often wandered back to Scott—his strong presence, his knowledge, his protection. She was alone and vulnerable without him. She slept with the loaded handgun by her bed and throwing knives under her pillow, and practiced with the knives during the day, becoming accurate with them. Caitlin considered shooting practice, there were plenty of guns around, and now she had the key to the ammunition store, but the noise would attract unwanted attention. That’s if there was anyone’s unwanted attention to attract. The dog, which she had aptly named Scruffy, had indicated no one else’s presence. She hoped he would bark and bite, and not just lick any intruders to death. By the third night, she allowed Scruffy in the cottage.
By the fourth night, Scruffy slept on the end of her bed. Caitlin tried to imagine how to continue without Scott. Not only how to manage without his wisdom, experience at surviving and his companionship, but how to live without him. She did love Scott, just for being him. Before Caitlin’s mother died, they’d had the ‘finding the right man’ conversation. Her mother concluded with her final words of advice on the matter. “When you find the right man for you, you just know. You know?” At the time, Caitlin believed it was a little simplistic. But now she knew Scott, she understood. Her breath caught in her throat. Her father had died so young and her mother had never married again. When Scott returned, she would let him know she was willing to marry him and live as husband and wife in the fullest sense.
The fifth day since Scott left came and went. That night Caitlin’s heart ached, convinced he would never return or was captured, or killed, or lying in a ditch somewhere. She wiped her eyes and decided she would to find him. Maybe she would. If not, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d lost someone significant in her life. In many ways, the loss of her mother was still raw, especially when she felt alone, like now. But if Scott was dead, she’d grieve, get over it and move on. He’d said she would found a Community ‘up north’. She should start packing for the journey. She wouldn’t stay here—everything reminded her of him. She’d that Community, as he said she would. Perhaps she would search for Aunt May, Uncle Kieran and Martin, as Scott had said they would survive this mess.
Late in the afternoon of the next day, Scruffy started barking. Caitlin ran inside the house and locked and barred the doors. She checked the loaded gun and turned off the safety. She sat by the front window, as Scruffy focussed his barking at that side of the cottage. Caitlin strained to hear what disturbed the dog as she tried to quieten him, but he barked even more. Then his barking changed. It was no longer a warning bark, but a welcoming one. He began scratching frantically at the door, trying to get out. Caitlin unbarred and opened it a crack to let him go.
“Well, then lad. Do I only get ye for a greeting? After all this time?” Scott’s deep gravelly voice rang out informing Caitlin the ‘intruder’ was himself. “Where’s the woman of the house, then?” He sounded cheery but tired. The front lawn muted the clip-clop of horses’ hooves. She fully unbarred the front door and ran out to see Scott on a horse, carrying a goat over the saddle and leading a heavily laden horse behind him. On seeing Caitlin emerge, he swung his leg over and jumped off, then set the exhausted nanny goat on the ground.
When Caitlin reached him, she threw her arms around his neck. He returned her embrace with a firm kiss, which lingered on her mouth.
“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Caitlin’s pulse raced as she spoke. Scott continued to hold her close to himself.
“Did you think I’d left you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I thought something bad had happened to you. You’ve been gone nearly a week!”
“Aye, lass. Sorry about that. It took me longer to find decent Highland Mountain horses than I anticipated. Ended up at the market outside of Perth. Got the goat there too. Just as well, as there was a woman selling black market medicines and such out of the back of a van. I’ve got you a great deal of supplies.” His smile was tired. “The saddles I had to buy separately. Some people are guessing what we already ken about fuel, and horses were nae cheap. But people were nae going for stock strong animals, like these dun garrons.” He patted the rump of the medium sized horse he had dismounted. It gave a quiet snort in response. “People are still looking at horses, like fancy ones, ye ken? Not solid workhorses, like these two which I got for a fair price. Also, they’ll no require a farrier as this breed rarely need shoeing.”
He showed Caitlin the money belt full of cash; it was not much depleted.
“Got a decent price for the car then?” Caitlin asked.
He nodded in reply. Dark circles lined under his eyes and he was unwashed and grubby.
“Apart from the horses, I bought everything quickly. Coming home took the time. The horses are heavy laden, and I’ve forgotten how far it is to walk. We’re only three or so hours frae Perth by car but walking...sorry,” he shrugged in apology.
The horses’ heads drooped. Caitlin helped Scott unload and unsaddle them. He ambled stiffly as he carried the goods inside. After taking in the last of the supplies, he went straight to his room and laid on his bed. After a minute, he sat bolt upright. “Och! I need to secure the horses.”
“No, don’t worry about that. Part of the legacy of my ‘privileged upbringing’ means I know horses and how to look after them. You rest. Leave it to me.”
Scott laid back down on the bed still fully clothed. Caitlin went outside to the horses and led them around to the back of the cottage. She took out the two halters from the tack Scott had bought and put them on the horses after removing their bridles and saddles then attached long ropes to them. She secured them to star pickets which she’d belted into the lawn at the back. The goat followed. Satisfied the animals were secure, she returned to the cottage. The goat stood in her vegetable patch making a meal of some wilting self-sown marigolds.
“Oh, no you don’t!” She removed the nanny from the vegetable garden and tied her up near the horses, much to the nanny’s protestations.
“Animals!”
Caitlin entered Scott’s bedroom. Scruffy had ensconced himself on the bed.
“Out!” Her whisper was harsh. The dog got off the bed next to the sleeping Scott and trotted to the mat on the floor in front of the Aga, where he curled up and slept. Caitlin turned back to Scott. He was unkempt from roughing it for a week; his clothes were shabby, and he looked like a hobo. The smell of unwashed human and lived-in clothes wafted out from his bedroom. She pulled the door ajar and began unpacking the supplies he’d brought home. She silently prayed. She hadn’t prayed for a while, but it seemed proper to express to someone her thanks and relief that Scott was home. Her mother brought her up to believe God would always listen.
Caitlin unpacked the medicines Scott had bought. There were paracetamol, oral morphine, antibiotics, lorazepam, antihistamines, and some anti-hypertensives. Injectable medicines including morphine, antibiotics, antifungals. Also, anti-emetics, anti-diarrhoeal, and aperients. Intra-venous fluids and heavy-duty vasopressors. She’d better not ever need to resuscitate someone with those! And, adrenaline, hydrocortisone, and promethazine for allergic reactions.
“Syntocinon and vitamin K!” Caitlin’s eyes widened as these were used in childbirth. “What else did this black market pharmacist sell him?”
Caitlin stoked up the Aga and ensured the boiler was full. They’d need plenty of hot water for Scott’s bath and to wash his clothes. He was still sound asleep three hours later. The onion soup, which she’d made to tide him over until she cooked a proper meal, was well and truly ready. But he still didn’t stir. She peered into the bedroom. Scott remained sprawled on his back in the exact position she had left him. And breathing. She took his shoes off and covered him. His beard was thick, and his hair, which had grown long in the past couple of months, curled around his face. Caitlin’s vision blurred with tears. Scott’s almost forty years were showing tonight. Must have been quite a journey. She pulled the door to and started eating without him. No sound came from his bedroom that night.