It took longer than expected for us to reach Leoch. I'm sure I was a dreadful sight to behold, but it wasn't as if I had proper access to materials for much personal hygiene. I was however better smelling than the men. Lack of hygiene was going to be a change now that I was living in the 18th century. Although, I was certain that there were some modern things I could manage to get away with, like brushing my teeth regularly. I ran my tongue against my teeth, quite in need of some sort of toothbrush. If I could disinfect two men's wounds thus far without raising suspicion, surely I could manage to implement a bit more cleanliness. At least for myself.

By the time we reached Leoch, my grip on Jamie had slightly loosened; but his grip on me remained firm. While my muscles ached and I still did not enjoy being atop a horse, I found it rather nice pressed against Jamie for warmth and his arm wrapped tightly around my waist. I blushed at how much I was enjoying it. I could practically hear Lottie's voice in my head teasing me about the handsome rugged Highlander holding onto me. I wouldn't have minded her teasing. I felt myself beginning to choke up at the thought of Lottie, but I didn't want to look weak in front of all these men. That was the last thing I needed. So, I held it all in knowing that at some point the dam would eventually break.

It was strange to see Leoch in its glory. While I still easily recognized it, it severely contrasted with the Leoch I remembered. The Leoch I would one day visit, two hundred years from now. It was strange that my memories were in the past for me, but still very much in the future. An odd situation to be sure. And yet, I wouldn't change it. Despite missing my dearest friend, there was nothing left for me in my time. This was the opportunity I had long been longing for. It was an answer to my prayers. A strange answer to be sure, but an answer nonetheless.

I could be whoever I wanted here. I didn't need to be the orphaned widow in a foreign land with nothing to her name that people only pitied. Sure, I was still technically that exact same thing here, but this was a new adventure. One I eagerly awaited despite any heartache that remained undealt with. That is if I could manage to survive. I was going to need that history book if I was to somehow manage it. Meaning I would have to somehow find my way back to Mistress Campbell's place. But I had a feeling these men would not be too keen to let me go. Women were treated as property in this time period and some used as a sort of currency or a bargaining chip. As a foreigner, that is probably what I would become, a bargaining chip. Or some man's property. Just a small hurtle toward freedom. At least, I hoped it would be a small one.

We passed under the lintel inside Leoch. The place was very much alive in comparison to my last memory of it...or was it my future memory? I probably ought not to think about it otherwise I would likely drive myself mad.

"This is Leoch, Mistress Tallmadge," Jamie told me. "Home to the..."

"MacKenzies," I whispered the same time as him, remembering that from my trip with Lottie. I didn't mean for Jamie to hear me, but he must have because I could feel him tense behind me.

"How'd ye know that?" he asked me. His tone sounded much sterner than it had previously. He was likely suspicious of me, to begin with, and then I did that.

I mentally kicked myself for such a careless mistake. It was mistakes like that, which could cost me dearly. Thankfully, I could work calmly under pressure. My years in the medical field had taught me well. I took a breath and looked back at him over my shoulder. "Because you told me so nearly fifteen miles ago. Don't you remember?" I scoffed as if the answer were obvious. I then reached toward his head with one of my hands. "Maybe you hit your head harder than I originally thought..."

Jamie jerked his head and made some sort of noise I wasn't familiar with that seemed to dismiss my notion. "My head is fine," he responded.

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Very well then. Suit yourself. If you find yourself missing any other memories be sure to find me, so someone can keep a careful eye on you."

He grunted.

Thankfully, that also seemed to dismiss any concern he had about me. I carefully turned to face the front again and slouched against him. Turning around to reach for his head had greatly sapped my courage atop this horse. While I knew it was certainly going to be harder to blend in with more people around, I was glad to get off this damn horse. I had always hated the creatures. Since before I could even remember. My father had never let me near one.

We came to a stop and I breathed a loud sigh of relief that our journey was over. That made Jamie chuckle. "Was it truly that bad?" he asked me.

I looked over my shoulder at him. The glint in his eyes told me that he was teasing me. "Even worse," I said seriously, before offering him a teasing smile in return.

Jamie smiled and shook his head at my snark.

I then glanced down at the ground and then back at him. "As it seems you're usually in the habit of throwing me or tripping me or something that could generally cause harm when I get off this horse. Am I to expect that now as well?"

I think he knew I was teasing him. But he just said, "Murtagh will help ye down."

A man wearing a bonnet with long brown hair, that smelled as if he hadn't bathed in weeks, came beside me and reached up. I accepted his assistance. He easily swung me down until I was safely on my feet.

"Thank God," I muttered, closing my eyes revelling in the sensation of being on solid ground once again.

"Ye sure are a wee thing," Murtagh said to me.

"I am not wee," I muttered to myself. My hands balled into fists and I straightened my stance, rising to my full height and slowly exhaling a breath.

But that only made Murtagh laugh. As well as Jamie behind him, who was now down from atop his horse. In my time, I was often belittled for my height. As if how tall I was mattered a great deal to being able to complete simple tasks. If my height did prove an issue, I usually found a way to solve that problem. Usually a stool.

"I wouldna rile her up," Jamie teased. "For such a wee thing she has a wicked sharp tongue."

I looked at him incredulously, with my eyes wide. I folded my arms across my chest. "I do not," I retorted. That made them both laugh again. "And I'm not wee. I'm...I'm...I'm simply of a shorter stature." That only made them laugh harder.

Murtagh looked at me appraisingly before looking at Jamie. He then said something to Jamie in what I assumed was Gaelic. Jamie laughed and gave Murtagh a playful shove with his good arm. Murtagh winked at me and walked away to care for his horse.

"Can I ask what he said?"

"Ye can ask, but I willna tell ye," Jamie chuckled as he began to work with his horse.

"Men," I muttered, placing my hands on my hips. It was funny, for all the advancements the next 200 years would bring, it appeared that some things about men didn't really change. For years I had put up living in a man's world as a woman with a medical degree, a doctor. Oddly, I suppose that had helped me prepare for whatever I was to endure here. There were times when I could push for advancement and times when I had to sit back and keep my mouth shut, usually the latter, time would only tell.

I stayed close to Jamie and his horse because this Leoch was foreign to me. He was probably the only one I felt safe around. But that didn't make the women's glares any easier. I had a feeling that Jamie was quite popular among the womenfolk here and they didn't like that I was anywhere near him. Jamie seemed oblivious to the attention. He continued to care for his horse.

"Do they bite?" I asked.

His head shot up quickly when he heard me speaking. "What was that?" he asked.

I turned my back on a gaggle of young women, some probably still considered young girls in my time, and looked at Jamie. "I asked if they bite." I motioned my head backwards. He peered over my shoulder and shrugged.

"I wouldna know. I've never had opportunity to let them that close," he responded before looking at his horse again. "But from what I gather about ye, ye probably bite harder." He laughed at his own joke.

I rolled my eyes. But truthfully, I was amused by his response. Not that I would tell him that I was amused, however. It would likely go to his head. Although, his response did remind of something my father might have once spoken. While Dr Tallmadge was a reliable physician, he also was notorious for his sense of humour. He claimed it was all part of his bedside manner. The thought of my father made me smile.

Suddenly, we had a swarm of children surrounding us. Although it was clear where most of their interest was directed. They pointed at me and asked each other questions about me, but never directed any questions my way. Who is she? Where did she come from? But their questions were cut short when a stout woman shooed them away. The woman cried out with glee as she greeted each of the men, but she seemed to stop in her tracks when she caught sight of me.

The woman scrutinized me from head to toe. I was thankful that I was wearing the period-appropriate clothing Mistress Campbell had given me. I offered her a smile and hoped I didn't look too dreadfully out of place. The woman placed her hands on her hips and looked at Jamie. "And what do we have here?" she asked.

The question wasn't directed at me. It was directed at Jamie, who stood beside me caring for his horse. Jamie looked over his shoulder at me. I offered him a smile to make the introduction. He nodded his head. "Ruth Tallmadge," he said with a tilt of his head toward me. "And Mistress FitzGibbons," he added with a tilt toward the other woman.

I smiled again. Was it appropriate to shake hands? Did they shake hands in this time period? I had never studied the subject. So, I offered her a friendly wave instead.

"And what is she doing here?" Mistress FitzGibbons asked, once again directing her question at Jamie.

This led me to conclude that a woman didn't very often come back with a group of men. I could only think of two period-appropriate reasons. One, the woman was rescued. Two, the woman was a whore and I was certainly not the latter. Most definitely the former.

"Rescued her from a certain garrison commander," Jamie said. Mistress FitzGibbons' mouth opened wide as she quickly rushed to me. "Dougal said we were to bring her wi' us," Jamie added.

"Of course he did," Mistress FitzGibbons responded as she began to fuss over me. She placed her hands on my cheeks and moved my head from side to side, looking for marks. "We know all about him," she said in a whisper to me. "Ye poor lass. Are ye all right?" She picked up my arms and let them fall at my sides.

"Yes, quite all right, Mistress FitzGibbons," I said, tugging my hair behind my ears "Quite thankful that Mister..." I paused. I didn't know his last name.."Thankful he appeared when he did." I glanced over at Jamie, who was watching us. I blushed and hoped neither Jamie nor Mistress FitzGibbons saw my reaction.

"Ye poor lass." Mistress FitzGibbons rubbed my arms tenderly. "That accent. I've never heard such a thing."

"I-I'm from the colonies," I stammered hoping that was enough of an explanation. But, of course, it wasn't. I really shouldn't have expected it to be enough.

"And what is it yer doin' here?"

"I-I came with my husband and his sister. And I was separated..." My breath hitched as I thought about the truth of the ordeal. I could feel my chest tighten thinking about everything I had just been through. I had yet to process everything. I instead pushed it down, like I often did.

Thankfully that much of my story seemed enough for Mistress FitzGibbons because she interrupted me. "Oh, ye poor poor lass. To go through that and then come across Randall as well? Ye poor thing. Welcome to ye. Let's get ye inside and see that yer well taken care of, Ruth."

My mouth quivered into a smile as I offered her my thanks, my head still thinking about what I had just been through. I pushed those thoughts down as far as I could, but I knew they weren't very far down. Mistress FitzGibbons reached for my arm to lead me inside the castle. I was about to follow when I hesitated.

"What about..." Again, it would hardly be proper for me, as a strange woman without her husband, in this time for me to refer to him as Jamie. Damn this century and their customs I wasn't completely familiar with. Instead, I pointed at him with my finger at Jamie. "Him."

I bit my bottom lip as she turned to look at Jamie with a look of utter confusion on her face. "What about 'im?" she tutted. "Why Jamie can fend for himself. He knows where to get food and I'm sure someone will find him a bed."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply he wouldn't be looked after," I apologized. "It's just that on our journey here he was shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the stomach. I bandaged it the best I could, but as I'm sure you're aware, he's also painfully stubborn."

I could have sworn I saw Jamie attempt to hide a smile. Mistress FitzGibbons in contrast looked worried.

"He'll be fine," I assured her. "He'd be finer sooner if he weren't so stubborn," I added because I was sure Jamie was listening as he brushed down his horse. "I'd just like to properly clean and care for his wounds lest they come infected." I didn't regularly use the word lest in my vocabulary, but the word felt appropriate given the time we were in.

Mistress FitzGIbbons brow furrowed. 'Infected?" she asked.

I mentally kicked myself. They didn't call it infected yet. I pursed my lips as I mentally flipped through the pages of my medical books. Thank the Lord I was born with somewhat of a photographic memory. Inflamed. That was it. "Er-inflamed, " I clarified. "You know, with pus, swelling, and fever?"

The older woman then nodded her head and I breathed a sigh of relief. I'd have to be more careful. In my haste to add the word lest to my everyday vocabulary, I had unintentionally slipped a term they weren't yet familiar with. Thankfully, I could easily brush that off by claiming the truth.

"Oh, aye, I know what ye mean. But do ye mean to say as ye know what to do for that? Are ye a charmer then? A Beaton?"

I smiled softly. I couldn't carry on about my medical degree here. Not in this time. Nor was I entirely sure what a Beaton or a charmer were. But I could still tell the truth. Part of it anyway. "My father was a doctor and I worked by his side for many years since I was a little girl. I've cared for wounds like this many times."

Both statements were true. I had worked by my father, the doctor's side for many years and I did treat wounds during the war. My statements just weren't true as far as the 18th century was concerned. I offered Mistress FitzGibbons another smile. "I can help. It's the least I could do after all he's done for me."

Mistress FitzGibbons nodded her head and called for Jamie who looked about to dart off in the opposite direction. Men. Such stubborn creatures they could be. But nonetheless, Mistress FitzGibbons took him with one hand and me with the other and towed us both into the castle.

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself at the sight of Jamie's face. If he would have spoken, I'm sure it would have been something along the lines of now what have you done. It was for his own good though. Truly, keeping him safe from infection was the least I could do after he saved me from a terrible encounter with Randall. A fate from which I felt like I would forever be indebted to him for.

After a long trip through the cold and narrow corridors, dimly lit by slitted windows, we came stopped at a room with a bed, a couple of stools, a table, and most importantly a fireplace. This room would certainly be suitable for the task I was about to undertake. I certainly would have preferred more light, but seeing as electricity wasn't an option, this would do.

I warmed my hands by the fire. I was always dreadfully cold and having been out in the drizzling rain hadn't helped matters. I needed to warm my hands. Not only so I could do my job better, but I'm sure my patient would prefer warmed hands to icy chilled ones. Mistress FitzGibbons seemed immune to the cold as she set Jamie on a stool. I was afraid that I would never get used to Scotland's weather. It wasn't like this was my first foray into the woods, so to speak. I had lived in the same elements in my time and still, I was always cold. Although, I supposed that was my own damn fault staying there instead of relocating to somewhere more tropical.

Mistress FitzGibbons removed what was left of Jamie's tattered shirt and covered him with a warm quilt from the bed. She clucked at him. I wasn't sure if it was because of the bruised and swollen shoulder or my makeshift dressing that looked quite clumsy for someone medically trained. Although, I was fairly certain some of the clumsiness was his own stubborn doing.

"Those will need to be soaked off," I said, stepping toward them with my arms folded across my chest. "We don't want to injure him further. Although, I'm sure he's done quite enough added injury himself." I gave him a pointed look to which he responded with a wry smile.

Mistress FitzGibbons chuckled.

"The wound will then need to be cleaned to prevent any fevers."

"What will ye be needin'?" Mistress FitzGibbons asked. She would have made a fine nurse in my time.

I exhaled slowly as I thought about what exactly I did need for this. In my time, I would have known exactly what to call for. Not that I couldn't do this. I just needed to think. Thankfully, Lottie had a knack for using natural remedies and had taught her ways since medical school. I was also thankful I had written her remedies down in a journal. While it would have been much more handy had I had the journal with me, I didn't. I would have to rely on my memory of what I had written on those pages and what Lottie had told me. Not to mention what could be found in a primitive Scottish castle at this time of day.

I pursed my lips as I mentally flipped through my journal. "If you have it, I'll need some garlic and witch hazel, several clean rags, and something, preferably a kettle, for boiling water. And a fresh apron if you have one." I had borrowed this dress after all. I would owe Mistress Campbell some petticoats should I ever see her again.

"Aye, well, I think we can manage that," Mistress FitzGibbons responded.

"Thank you."

Mistress FtizGibbons took another look at Jamie. "Perhaps some comfrey as well. What about a bit o' boneset tea or chamomile? T'lad looks as though it's been a long night."

I glanced at Jamie. She was right. He did look tired as he swayed with weariness and was much too tired to protest us speaking of him like an inanimate object. I tried to hide a smile. Maybe he wasn't completely stubborn. Still, quite stubborn though.

"I think that would do nicely," I told Mistress FitzGibbons before she left to fetch me what I needed.

We were alone. I knew this was highly inappropriate given the times. Things weren't much better in my time. However, I already trusted Jamie. He had saved me after all.

I rubbed my arms with my hands. I was still cold. My wet clothes clung tight to my body. Jamie saw me shiver. He went to remove the quilt from around himself.

"Don't even think about it," I warned him as I smoothed the quilt back over him. "You're the injured one. You need it more than I do at the moment. I'll just stand over by the fire while we wait."

I stood in front of the fire with my back to it. I chuckled slightly and Jamie looked at me curiously. "I bet you're regretting not taking the cow instead right about now."

Jamie smiled. "The thought has crossed my mind a time or two," he said

I offered a rare snort. I winced after it came out. I hated snorting in front of people. It was embarrassing. Stephen hated it when I did it, but Jamie seemed rather amused by it. My cheeks flushed because the action still embarrassed me.

Thankfully, Mistress FitzGibbons returned just then with an apron full of garlic bulbs, gauze bags of dried herbs, torn strips of old linen, and another apron. A small black iron kettle hung from one of her arms and she held a large demijohn of water as though it were nothing more than goose down. I knew I likely would have fallen carrying all that she had.

"Thank you," I said as I rushed to her, carefully avoiding my patient to save myself from my last embarrassment. I took the demijohn of water and the iron kettle from her. I also grabbed the apron and quickly tied it on.

"Now then, m'dear, what would ye have me do?" she asked cheerfully. Yes, she certainly would have made a good nurse. I set her to get the water boiling and peeling the cloves of garlic while I inspected the herb packets.

I set the packets on one of the stools and knelt down. The witch hazel I had asked for was there. As was the boneset and comfrey Mistress FitzGibbons had recommended. There was also something I identified as cherry bark.

Painkiller. I mentally kicked myself. I had been so focused on getting that wound clean, I hadn't thought of his pain threshold. I glanced at him. No doubt he could hold his own as far as the pain was concerned, but that didn't mean he should have to.

For a moment, images of men coming from the battlefield flashed through my mind. I felt myself pale. For many of them, we couldn't offer anything for the pain. We had nothing to relieve their pain. I drew a ragged breath and pushed those memories down. They wouldn't help me now. Nor would they help my patient. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, hoping neither of them had noticed my momentary distraction. I then opened my eyes to find that Jamie had noticed. I attempted to offer him a feeble smile before I stood upright one more.

I was thankful he didn't say anything. But perhaps he hadn't witnessed the whole thing. I hoped he hadn't. I tossed several cloves of garlic into the boiling water with some witch hazel. A few minutes later I added the strips of cloth. Mistress FitzGibbons had seen to the boneset, comfrey, and cherry bark mixture in a small pan of hot water by the fire.

Both Mistress FitzGibbons and I stood near the fire, while Jamie waited quietly on the stool. "I appreciate your help, Mistress FitzGibbons, but I don't want to keep you from your other duties. If you have other things that need to be tended to, I can manage here."

"Ah, lass! Thank ye. There aye be things for me to do! I'll send a bit o' broth up for ye. Do ye call oot if ye need anything else."

Mistress FitzGibbons waddled to the door with surprising speed. She was nearly out the door before I got the chance to thank her once more. "Thank you, Mistress FitzGibbons."

From the threshold, she stopped and turned toward me. "Everybody calls me Mrs Fitz. Ye may also."

I smiled and nodded my head. Mrs Fitz then turned to look at Jamie over her shoulder. "And ye, quit bein' so stubborn for the lass and do as she says. Ye hear?"

"Yes, Mrs Fitz," Jamie responded rather sheepishly.

He looked like a little child who had just been given a thorough tongue lashing by their mother. Mrs Fitz nodded before she left to do her rounds. Jamie and I both burst into laughter when we were sure she was far enough away.

"If I wasn't injured, I'm sure she woulda taken me over her knee and lashed me right here and now," Jamie said, still chuckling, but wincing in pain. "Might do it later though."

"Serves you right for being so stubborn," I retorted, smiling at him as I walked over to the fire to put some of the tea in a cup for him to drink from.

Jamie stopped chuckling and offered a gentle smile. "I come by it naturally, I swear it."

"You're also in pain, so I'll forgive you. But just this once." I walked back over to him and handed him a cup of the tea Mrs Fitz had brewed for him. He was going to need it. This experience wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Just this once," he repeated before he winked at me with his lips over the cup.

I simply smiled. I was going to give the tea a little bit to begin to work before I started to work on my patient once more. Although, this time I had a feeling he wasn't going to be quite as stubborn.