When the record player was unboxed and plugged in, Maggie placed the record over the spindle and turned it on before carefully lowering the stylus into the groove.
“On you come, lass,” Rob beckoned. “We can’t dance, but at least I can hold you close.”
***
Angus sat on the sofa, fiddling with his bunnet, embarrassed to be intruding on such a personal moment, but fascinated by the sound of the first orchestra he’d ever heard. When Vera Lynn’s clear, sweet voice began singing, he closed his eyes and laid his head back. What a grand sound.
***
Rob buried his face in Maggie’s hair, the poignant words washing over him. Aye, he and Maggie would meet again, and like the song, he didn’t know where it would be, or when, but somehow they would make it happen.
She looked up at him, tears slipping down her cheeks, the love in the depths of her violet-blue eyes so pure that his own eyes teared.
He raised her chin, kissing her tenderly.
***
Angus got up quietly and tiptoed out, the lyrics of the second song bringing a strange welling in his heart as he crossed the stone-flagged entry. He’d never seen a blue bird or the white cliffs of Dover, but that was a never-mind. Innisbraw’s own laverlock and plunging fells would do. The thought of a world without war—of never-ending peace—brought a longing to his soul. He climbed onto the cart bench, wiped his eyes on his kerchief, and blew his nose vigorously before releasing the brake.
***
They listened to the record several times that evening, Maggie nestled in Rob’s arms on the couch. His warm embrace, his tender kisses, his words of love, brought to life each song’s heartfelt words, strengthening her hope that the war would soon be over and they would spend all of their tomorrows together.
***
The next morning, Rob awakened early to find a napkin wrapped around a plump scone lying on his bedside table. He looked at his watch. Only 0550. Why was Maggie up and baking so early?
Maggie meant for him to wait until he finished his breakfast of sausage and eggs, but he was starving so he ate half of it in one bite.
What a strange taste and unpleasant smell.
He drained the water in his glass and lay down, waiting for her to appear in the doorway. He wrapped the remainder in the napkin.
Mebbe later with a cup of coffee …
CHAPTER 39
Face burning. Pressure inside skull. Brains growing? Blood pounding. Feel it. Hear it. Instant fear.
He sat up, throwing back the covers. Brilliant flashes of light pierced the edges of his vision.
Instant peace. Well being. He lay down, fascinated by the flashing lights.
“Guid mornin,” Maggie called from the doorway. “You’re already awake.”
Voice hollow. Echoing.
So close.
Her eyes. Delicate petals of violet blooming in depths of azure-blue.
Her hair. Each individual strand of raven curls tumbling, tumbling over shoulders.
“Why ... you ... staring ... like. . . that. . .”
Her voice. Echoing, echoing.
Tongue thick. Mouth dry. Can’t talk.
***
Maggie reached for Rob’s hand. Something was wrong. His cheeks flushed deep red, the pupils of his eyes dilated. “Rob, speak to me. Rob!”
No answer.
Her fingers went to the base of his thumb.
His pulse pounded.
She grabbed the stethoscope from a drawer in his bedside table and pulled up his pyjama top. Listening intently, she moved the diaphragm over his chest.
His heart galloped. Lungs sounded clear. Though his chest rose and fell rapidly, no gasping or fighting for breath.
She tossed the stethoscope onto his bedside table, knocking aside a napkin lying there. Something fell to the floor.
She started to kick it aside but stopped, looking closely. Why was a scone on his table? She bent over and studied it. He’d eaten half but she could see the rest and it was the wrong shape. This scone had been dropped from a large spoon before baking. She always rolled hers out and cut them into wedges. She grasped his shoulders and shook him. “Rob, where did you get the scone?”
He opened his eyes. Pupils so large his eyes looked black.
She shook him again. “I have to know where you got the scone. Answer me, Rob!”
“No’ ... verra ... sweet,” he mumbled, “but ...” His eyes closed again.
A sudden thought made her legs weak. Och, they no longer put the bar across the door. Had someone left a poisoned scone on his table that night?
Una! It had to be.
She raced down the hall to the pharmacy and rummaged through shelves until she found the syrup of ipecac and a dosing spoon.
Rob lay so still.
She poured a glass of water before cranking up the head of the bed. “Rob, open your mouth,” she cried, patting his cheeks. “Open your mouth.”
When his lips parted, she emptied the spoon on the back of his tongue and watched him swallow.
“Mouth ... dry.” He gulped down the water she offered.
Her mind raced. Flushed cheeks, rapid heartbeat, enlarged pupils, dry mouth. Something niggled at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t grasp it. She had to know more.
“What do you feel? Is your stomach hurting? Do you have a headache?”
“Lights ... bright ... lights.”
Bright lights with his eyes closed. She wrapped a pressure cuff around his arm and took his blood pressure. So high!
But what if it wasn’t poison? She pressed her fingertips to her temples.
Think.
It had to be Una. What did she put in that scone?
She picked up the scone with the napkin and broke a piece off, spreading the crumbs across the table. Small flecks of something dark brown. She smelled the crumbled dough. Unpleasant, almost fetid odor.
Think.
Herbs. It had to be herbs of some sort. But what dangerous herbs grew on Innisbraw?
Jacob’s Ladder? She hadn’t seen any on the island in years and it wouldn’t have the same symptoms.
Think.
“Och, Faither in Heaven, help me,” she groaned. Flushed cheeks, raised pulse, flashing lights, dry mouth, dilated pupils.
Henbane!
Of course. That explained the odor. “Heavenly Faither, is there an antidote for henbane? Help me, please help me.”
Rob retched.
She placed a blanket over his lap and lifted his shoulders. “That’s right, get it all up.”
When he finished vomiting, she wiped his lips and took his pulse again. Still so high. She wadded up the soiled blanket and tossed it on the floor. “Are you still seeing bright lights?”
***
Lost in an unearthly world, he whirled and undulated through brilliant colors in his weightless, unfettered body, a breath-taking landscape unfolding below him. He floated over a tumbling burn, water so clear, the iridescent scales on the small fish darting about glistened and winked in the sunlight. He soared over a copse of rowans and firs. Each leaf and needle dancing, quivering, every color of green he had ever seen or imagined standing out in brilliant relief. So beautiful. Such detail. He hoped this enchantment lasted forever.
***
Maggie dashed to the bathroom to wash her hands and jumped, letting out a startled shriek when she turned and bumped into Flora in the doorway.
“Och, you skeered me,” Flora said. “What’s the matter, lass, you’re pale as a ghost.”
Maggie grasped her shoulders. “Thank God you’re here early. It’s Rob. He’s eaten henbane. Do you know the antidote?”
“Henbane? Why would he eat that foul plant? I thought it had all been dug up and burned long ago—’tis deadly.”
“I don’t have time to explain. Think, Flora. How can I get it out of his system?”
“I don’t know. Mither wouldn’t let us near it.”
“Run down to Elspeth’s and ask her. She’ll
surely know. I have to get back to Rob. I can’t wake him.”
Flora whirled. “I’m on my way. You see to that lad,” she called over her shoulder.
Rob still slept when Maggie returned. Not a good sign. First sleep, then coma, then . . .
She poured some water onto a towel and wiped his face.
He didn’t stir.
She took his blood pressure again. Still terribly high. She clasped his limp hand. “Please, Lord, please help me. I’m so frightened and don’t know what to do.” She pulled up a chair and sat beside him, laying her cheek on his chest, listening to the rapid thrumming of his heart. Loud, it was, like storm-driven waves ravaging the shore.
It seemed like an eternity before voices neared. Angus ran into the room. “Milk! Elspeth says as much milk as you can force down his throat. Flora’s in the kitchen getting it now.”
“Milk? You’ll have to help me wake him.”
It took them over ten minutes to get Rob awake enough to swallow, and another ten before the milk dribbled from the corners of his lips. “That’s all he can take,” Angus said, “but we got most of a litre down him.”
Flora patted Maggie’s shoulder. “’Tis a guid thing I had a Women’s Aid meeting the afternoon and came early.”
Angus leaned over the scone. “Och, ’tis henbane, for certain. Rare reekie, it is.”
“Where did he get the scone?” Flora asked. “And why would he eat such a foul thing?”
“I’m thinking Una put it there sometime during the night,” Maggie replied. “He probably thought I left it for him. He only ate half of it, thank the Lord.”
“If Una did something like that, she should be in jile. Are you sure it was her?”
“Who else would want to hurt Rob? Spitting on him and cutting his head wasn’t enough. She’s wanted him off the island since he arrived.”
“Then I’m thinking the Island Council should arrest her and hold her for the constables from Oban,” Angus said. “I’ll use your radio and see if I can raise Alec before she tries owt—”
Both MacDonalds, Hugh, and Elspeth crowded through the doorway. Elspeth dropped her walking stick and gathered Maggie into her arms. “I see from the empty jug you got some milk down him. If he didn’t eat much of the henbane, it should save him but we have to pray now, and pray hard.”
“I made him vomit, too,” Maggie said. “I hope some of it came up before he absorbed the poison.” She spent several minutes explaining what had happened.
Though reluctant to leave, Alec and Morag agreed that the sooner they contacted the other members of the Island Council, the quicker they could take Una into custody.
“If she has any henbane,” Alec said, “we’ll find it.”
“I’m going to radio Arthur and Lachlan and have them ring the kirk bell for prayer,” Hugh said. “I’ll be back in a tick.”
***
By early afternoon, only Elspeth and Maggie sat at Rob’s side. Flora and Angus had taken Hugh to the kirk to lead the folk in prayer and Alec and Morag were meeting with the Island Council. Maggie checked his vitals often.
Unchanged. He lay so still, only the rapid rise and fall of his chest brought hope.
Shame burned her cheeks. For weeks, she had been consumed with the thought of having to leave Innisbraw forever and now ... she couldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. Without Rob she would have nothing—no joy, no hope, no future. He had to live. He had to!
Alec and Morag tiptoed into Rob’s room as the sun settled behind Ben Innis. “How is he?” Alec asked.
“No better,” Maggie said. “I’ve pinched the inside of his thigh where the flesh is tender over and over, but I can’t wake him.”
“Och, what a muddle,” Alec said, tossing his bunnet on the clothes press. “You’ll no’ believe what’s happened the day.” He pressed Maggie into her chair. “First, when we got to Una’s cottage, we found a note on her door saying she had gone off to Portree on the Isle of Skye to live with her auntie and wouldn’t be back.”
“So she got away?”
“Hear me oot, lass.” He paced the room, running his hands through his hair. “You can’t imagine the midden we found in that cottage. She broke and carved up the furniture, tore all the linens, and smashed everything else. Though we searched through everything, we found no henbane.”
“But how could she get to Skye?”
“That had us in a rare fankle. Mark Ferguson, who was taking a day to mend his nets, got the idea to radio all the trawlers that were out. I took him to my cottage so he could use the radio, and sure enough, she was on Tormad’s boat. He said she paid him a wee bit of silver to take her to Skye and he thought ’twas a guid idea to get her off Innisbraw after how she treated Rob.”
“Then she’s going to get away with it?”
Alec grunted. “I told Tormad to contact the constable at Portree before he docked and have him check her bags for henbane. She was in the wheelhouse and heard what Tormad was saying. We could hear her screaming about finally killing Edmond for abandoning her and their bairnie.”
“Edmond? There’s never been anyone on the island with that name,” Elspeth said.
“Did he contact the constable?” Maggie asked.
“He did that. Tormad radioed just before we came up here. One constable and twa home-guardsmen were waiting for his boat. They found a wee sack of henbane tucked into one of her bags. ’Tis going to take some straightening oot, but right now Una Hunter’s in the Portree jile. Where she belongs.”
Maggie looked down at Rob. “Och, luve, I wish you could know this.” She brushed her lips across his forehead.
“The constable did say to save that piece of scone,” Alec added, “and the napkin.”
***
Morag spent the nights with Maggie, Elspeth the days. Though Rob’s vitals gradually improved, he remained in a deep sleep forty-eight hours later.
Angus had just taken Elspeth home when Rob looked up at Maggie. He smiled, tried to take her into his arms, and frowned at the IV in his forearm. “What’s this for?” he croaked.
“You’re awake!” She leaned over and hugged him, tears burning her sleep-deprived eyes. “How do you feel?”
“I need water.”
She filled the glass and held it while he gulped the water down. He motioned for another and emptied that glass, too, then lay back with a satisfied sigh and cleared his throat. “I feel grand. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve some fantastic dreams to tell you about. I’ve been flying, Maggie, and without an airieplane.”
She pressed her cheek to his. “I thought I was going to lose you. You came so close to dying.” Tears long spent, dry sobs shook her body.
“Don’t cry, lass.” He rubbed her shoulders and back. “What happened? What do you mean, dying? Haven’t I just been asleep? And why the IV?”
She pulled a chair as close as possible to the bed. “’Tis a long story, and a troubling one, but I want you to hear it all and then you can tell me about your dreams.”
Rob didn’t interrupt until she told him how long he had been unconscious. “You mean I’ve been asleep over three days?”
“Aye. You talked a wee bit at first, but your words were slurred and then they ... they just stopped.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m awake now, luve, and I feel fine, but I still have some questions.”
“Of course you do.”
“That henbane? That’s why my vision was so clear? Och, I’ve always had guid eyesight but the detail I saw from a distance was unbelievable. One time, I hovered over a flock of sheep and I could see each curly hair on their backs, and each blade of girse they were eating.”
“I don’t know anything about henbane improving your eyesight, only that it promotes visions and enhances colors—if it doesn’t kill you.”
“So when I thought I was flying over the countryside I was hallucinating?”
“Aye. That’s one of the reasons the ancient Celts used to drink a potion made with a few seeds of
henbane. It had something to do with their pagan worship. Some scholars think that is what started all the blether about witches being able to fly.”
“But why do I feel so guid, so relaxed? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this guid no matter how much sleep I had.”
“Elspeth told me you’d feel that way ... when you woke up.”
“You mean, if I woke up.” Rob shook his head.
“Just think, that awful Una’s gone forever—and all the hate and bitterness always trailing after her like reekie smoke from a smoldering midden.”
“Without her around, I don’t have any excuse for not making up my mind about returning to Innisbraw.”
Maggie’s breath froze in her throat. She only wanted to know what lay in store—a life in America or returning to the island of her birth? Och, Faither, help me be patient. I don’t want him deciding before he’s ready.
***
Time to make a decision. Had the Lord finally answered his prayers? Or perhaps they were answered long ago and he was too thickheaded to realize it. Una was gone and even if she didn’t receive any time in jile for trying to kill him, she’d never be welcome back on Innisbraw.
He’d met only a fraction of the island’s folk, but he was no longer that lonely orphan trying to fit in. No matter where they settled after the war, whether here or someplace in the States, there were bound to be folks who didn’t take to him for some reason or other.
Why had it taken him so long to realize that? After what Maggie had been through, it was time to stop acting like a selfish lad.
He cupped her chin in his palm and looked into her eyes, anxious to banish the anxiety turning them dark blue. “I’m glad I got all that silver from the bank,” he said, voice husky with emotion. “We’ll need some of it to pay Malcolm for our trip back to Innisbraw when the war’s over.”
She melted into his arms with a sob.
CHAPTER 40
The only after-effects Rob suffered from his narrow escape were a raging thirst and an appetite to match.
He and Maggie sat on the entry, sharing a handful of shortbreads. “I thought I’d get tired of the wind blowing most of the time, but it keeps away the midges.” Rob swigged his third mug of coffee.
“It won’t be long ’til they’re gone for another year.” Maggie brushed crumbs from her fingers and reached for his hand. “What will you do for a living when the war’s over? And where will we live? I was so kittled up, I could hardly sleep.”