"After three years running in search of something I had thought I would never see again, a new place to call home, meet new people to call a family... I arrived here, where I met Beathan Ross, the man that has stolen my heart and got into my head like no other person. And then, well, you know the rest," I whispered, tucking Arran into bed, Isla already asleep beside him, "Night night, my little angels,".

"Mama?"

"Yes?" I asked, getting up from my crouching position, trying to find my way through the dark.

"I love you,"

Smiling, I held back my tears, and whispered back with the small voice I had left, "I love you too."

My name was no longer Everett Glass. I was now Blossom Ross, the daughter of a horse rider who had died in the Napoleonic war back in 1813, when I was four. My mother had died giving birth to me, and so I had ended up living with my grandparents, both great at horse riding, since they had their own farm.

There, I had spent most of my life, learning how to race, even though women weren't allowed to, and, to earn some money, I worked down at the butchers in the village.

When my grandparents died, I decided I wanted to go and tour the country, so I sold all their belongings except my horse, a sword from my ancestors, and a few sentimental objects. Then, once I had all my money, I was off.

I had travelled all over England, from Cambridge to Nottingham, to London and Bristol. Nothing made me feel like home, until I crossed the border, and entered Scotland, the land of whisky, kilts and bagpipes, and had found my one and only other half, the man I have spent the past ten years with.

"Moma! I'm going over to Lachlan's house!" My eight year old son, Arran, shouted, slamming the door as he ran outside, laughing.

My life had changed drastically since I had ran away from Cambridge. I now had three children, Arran, who had been born a few months after my marriage with Beathan Ross, a tall man with a bright red beard, his hair colour evident in all of our offsprings. Then, a few years later, Isla was born, her bright green eyes reminding me of my mother, her face exactly the same as the photo I had of her when I was still young. Then there was Iona, born on the isle of Gigha a year and a half ago, when we were visiting a family friend that had moved there because of its great variety of fish.

We had a happy life, the people in Campbelltown were all very friendly and acted like one giant family, helping each other in times of need.

"Moma... Why can't I go outside?" My six year old asked, sniffing and using the her jumper as a tissue.

"Because, dear Isla, you have the flu. Not only that, but you need a long, warm bath. You stink!" I exclaimed, pulling her giggling body towards the bathtub I had been preparing and letting her climb into the steaming hole in the floor.

A cry was heard from the living room, where I had left my youngest daughter sleeping.

"I'll be right back," I said, walking towards the crying baby.

Iona was now sitting up on the floor, waving her hands towards me as I went over to her and picked her up, "There, there... Mama's here now," I whispered, stroking her short red hair.

"Mama! Can I have my pirate sword?" Arran barged in, looking around frantically.

"It's next to Isla's one, in the basket behind the door!" I shouted, not even bothering to help him out since this was something that happened almost every day.

"Thanks Mama!"

Shaking my head, I got to the bath, the water all over the floor as Isla jumped around in the hole me and her father had dug up around nine years ago so that we didn't have to go over to the water well a few minutes away. It was a natural source of water we had found, and decided to make use of it.

"Mama, why don't you give me Iona and you can go and finish dinner?" Isla asked, sitting down in the water and stretching her arms like she usually did when she wanted to spend some time with her sister.

"Okay, fine... But be-"

"Careful. Got it."

Undressing the youngest sibling, I gave her to Isla, who smiled happily as the baby giggled.

"By the way, I'm going to be going riding tomorrow, so you're going to be in charge." I shouted from the kitchen.

Ever since I had left Cambridge, or maybe even before that, I had fallen in love with riding, it gave me a sense of peacefulness that I only felt when on a saddle, galloping through the sharp winds.

It was a real shame women couldn't participate in the yearly Grand National, since I knew, either me or my fellow friends could probably beat the men there due to our lightness, making the horse's job easier.

Soon, I thought, the new queen is going to do it soon.

The kingdom had changed a lot since I had ran away from Cambridge, fleeing the burning sensation of losing a loved one.

My friend, the girl that had taught me how to read and write, was now a really good friend of queen Victoria who had succeeded the throne after king William IV had died from a heart attack a couple of years back, even thought I knew for a fact that Adelaine had something to do with it. Another death that should have affected the real Adelaine was that her mother ad died from unknown causes when she was coming over to England from Germany to visit her daughter. This also had the ex-queen's fingerprints all over it.

Obviously, thought, I wouldn't tell anyone about it, because although her way of getting the throne hadn't been the best, she had been a very loved and adored women throughout the country, and it would be heartbreaking to tell someone the truth. Not only that, as an ex-member to the cause, I had sworn not to tell a soul, and a true human never backs down on their word.

It's officially over! I hope you liked this short story! If you did, make sure to give it a like and check out my other books! And if you didn't well... Comment what you dislike and I'll see what I can do ;)

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